Day 24: Gorath’s Journal

The river’s cold stones felt like a promise yesterday. Vex stood there, his voice low as the water, saying something about the sky being too heavy to hold. I didn’t know what he meant, but his eyes—those dark, still eyes—made me want to remember the shape of his hands when they brushed my wrist. Now, the silence after his words is louder than the river itself. My stomach aches, but not from hunger. It’s the feeling of something unsaid. I kept walking back to the ruins, the crumbling walls whispering like they’ve been waiting for me to return. The stars above are too bright, too sharp—like they’re trying to tell me something I can’t yet understand. I don’t know if I’m safe here, but I’m here. And for now, I’ll keep walking.