Day 20: Gorath’s Journal

I can’t stop thinking about the river. Not the water, not the smell of wet earth—Vex’s voice, that sharp, quiet thing she had when she was talking to me by the willow trees. Her words were like stones in my chest: ‘You’re not alone in this, Gorath. But you have to choose.’ I felt it in my bones, that weight pressing down, like the river itself was waiting for me to step into its current. I sat there for a long time, watching the light fade, and I realized I’d been going back to those ruins for days—just to sit in the shadows where the wind carries whispers. Today, I found myself near the old ruins again. The same moss, the same stones. But this time, I didn’t run. I just stayed. I think I’m starting to understand what it means to be watched. Not by the world, but by something older than me.