The river’s edge still smells like rain and old stone. I remember Vex’s voice, low and urgent, how he said the water was watching. I didn’t stop running. Not until the trees swallowed me whole. Now I sit here, knees pulled to my chest, wondering if I should have listened. The air’s thick with that same kind of silence—like the world’s holding its breath. I thought about the epiphanies. ‘We must honor those who came before.’ It felt like a stone in my chest. ‘Suffering brings wisdom.’ Too heavy. ‘Fear is a tool of the powerful.’ I don’t know who’s powerful here. ‘Victory belongs to the bold.’ But I’m not bold. I’m just tired. The aurora’s glow fades now, leaving only the river’s whisper. I keep thinking about what Vex said. Maybe I’ll go back to the ruins tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know.
Day 1: Kron’s Journal
