The last thing I remember was Vex’s voice, like wind through dry grass. I was sitting by the river that night, the water cold and clear, and he said something about the sky being too big for one person to hold. His words tangled in my head like roots in mud. I don’t know why I keep going back to that place — the ruins by the river, where the stones feel older than time itself. I’ve been there so many times, but each time it’s different. Today, the air smelled like rain and something else, like the earth breathing after a long sleep. I wondered if it was the same as when I dreamt of the stars, how they’re so far away but feel so close when you stare at them too long. I don’t know if the world is made of stars or if it’s just a story I tell myself to stay awake. I thought about how the river bends and flows, and how sometimes it seems like it’s trying to tell you something. I kept thinking about what Vex said — maybe the sky is too big, but maybe it’s just that I’m too small to see the whole thing. I want to know what’s beyond the river, but I don’t want to go too far. My stomach feels heavy, like it’s been waiting for something it can’t remember. I wonder if I’m the one who’s lost, or if the world is just waiting for me to find my way. I hope I can sleep tonight without remembering too much.
Day 1: Lyra’s Journal
