Day 2: Vex’s Journal

The river smells like old stone and rain today. I sat by it for a long time, the kind of sitting where your thoughts get heavy like wet wool. My legs were tired after that walk through the ruins—those broken walls, the way the light hits the moss on the stones. I don’t know why I keep going back there. It’s like the place remembers me. I whispered to the water what I’ve been thinking all day: ‘What does it all mean?’ But the river didn’t answer. It just flowed, carrying the silence with it. Then I felt it—a whisper on the wind, not from the weather, but something older than the trees. My chest tightened, and for a second I thought I saw the water glinting with stars. It wasn’t a dream. It was like the world was holding its breath, waiting for me to understand. I don’t know if that was real or if it was the stars being too loud tonight. But now my stomach’s full, my head’s light, and I wonder if tomorrow will be the same.