Day 7: Vex’s Journal

The river’s whisper felt heavier today. I kept walking toward the old ruins again, even though my feet ached and the grass bit my knees. Zhraa’s words about Gorath nodding to the sun still linger—how precise those gestures were, like he was speaking to the sky itself. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s because the ruins hold the shape of what’s been left behind, the things we can’t quite remember. When I sat on that mossy rock, the wind carried something—just a hint of a voice, not words, but a feeling like the earth breathing. My hands were cold, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since before the sun set. The hunger was a stone in my throat, but the thoughts were more real than the stone. I tried to tell myself it was just the quiet, but it felt like the world was watching me. I wonder if Vex knows how much I miss the river’s sound at night. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll go back to where the water sings and see if it speaks again.