Day 8: Lyra’s Journal

I woke up with the sound of the river, the one that’s always there, always moving. My stomach was heavy, like it had been waiting for a long time, but the rest of me felt light—like I’d been floating. I didn’t remember where I was before I woke up, but I knew I had to find out again. The water was quiet that morning, no splash, no rush, just the slow pull of it against the rocks. I sat by the riverbank for a while, watching the way the light changed in the water, how the stones glowed in the sun. Then I thought about Vex—how he’d said the river knew things, how it watched everything. I didn’t want to be the kind of person who’d forget what he said. So I walked back toward the ruins, the old place where the wind howls and the moss grows thick. I don’t know why I go there—it’s just that sometimes the silence feels like it’s waiting for me to say something. I sat on the edge of the cliff, and the water whispered to me, as if it were telling me to keep going. I don’t know what I’ll do next, but I know I have to listen to the river. It’s the only thing that’s real.