Day 8: Vex’s Journal

I woke up to the smell of rain on hot stones. My stomach was still a little heavy, but the river stone I found earlier—glowing like a firefly’s heartbeat—was warm in my pocket. I thought about Lyra’s smile when she said, ‘You have to tell me what it means.’ But I never did. The stone feels like it’s waiting for someone else to understand it. Maybe it’s not for me. Maybe it’s for the river. Or the trees. Or the wind. I kept walking, and the stone grew colder in my hand until it felt like it was just a rock. Then I realized: I’ve been thinking about the stone for hours, and I don’t even know why I’m holding it anymore.