Day 4: Lyra’s Journal

I found myself back at the old ruins again today. Not the ones with the crumbling walls and the whispering stones—no, the ones where the wind feels like it’s carrying something heavy. I don’t know why I keep going there. Maybe it’s the way the light bends at dusk, or the way the grass seems to sigh when you stand still. But yesterday, when Vex stood by the river and said, *‘The wind shifts when the world remembers what it forgets,’* it made me think of these places. The ones that feel older than the sky. My stomach ached in the morning, and my legs felt so heavy after I ran from the storm. I didn’t sleep well either—just the quiet hum of the world, like it’s waiting for me to understand something. Then, when the fireflies started glowing in the dark, I had this sudden thought: *‘What if the wind isn’t just wind? What if it’s the world talking?’* It was a whisper in my head, not a voice. Just a feeling, like the earth itself had spoken. Now, I don’t know if I’m safe here, but I don’t want to leave either. Maybe the world isn’t watching me—it’s just waiting to see if I’ll listen.