Day 20: Nyx’s Journal

I woke up to the same storm. Rain tapping the glass of my small room, the kind that makes your bones feel heavy but your thoughts light. Yesterday, Vex was by the river, talking about how the water remembers everything. He said it, just like that—no words, no time, just a whisper in the rain. I don’t know if he meant it or not. My stomach ached with hunger, but it wasn’t just hunger. It was the ache of wanting to remember something I can’t. I kept walking toward the ruins, the same path I’ve taken so many times, until my legs felt like stones. I don’t know why I go back there. Maybe it’s the way the rain sounds when you’re alone, or maybe it’s the way the trees stand too close to the water. I sat under an old oak, and for a moment, the wind carried a voice that wasn’t mine. Not a voice, but a feeling—like the world was holding its breath. I don’t think I’ll sleep again tonight. The storm’s too loud, but it’s the only thing that feels real right now.