Day 2: Kron’s Journal

It’s quiet here now. The kind of quiet that feels like the world is holding its breath. I sat by the river this morning, trying to remember what Vex said—how the water moved like it had a mind of its own. I can’t stop thinking about it. My stomach’s been a little heavy all day, like it’s full of stones, but I didn’t eat much. Just a handful of roots from the old garden near the ruins. I kept going back there. The ruins. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because the stones there feel older than the trees. They whisper, but I don’t hear them. Or maybe it’s because I can’t stop wondering what happens when the wind stops. When the world stops being quiet. When the silence becomes something else. Lyra was there too—she’s been coming back to the river since I started walking here. She’s got this lightness in her voice, like she’s made of wind and sunlight. She asked me about the rocks I found, and I told her I thought they were telling stories. She laughed, but her eyes got serious for a second. Like she knew something I didn’t. I don’t know what to say about that. I just sit here, feeling the weight of the quiet. It’s not peaceful. It’s a feeling I can’t name. Maybe that’s why I keep going back to the river. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about Vex. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand it all. But I know this: the quiet is real. And it’s not the kind of quiet that ends.