The river’s cold breath still lingers on my skin. I keep going back to that place near the old ruins, where the stones are cracked and the moss grows thick. Vex said something last night—words that felt like they were carved into my bones. I tried to forget, but my thoughts keep circling back. They’re heavy, like stones in my chest. I don’t know why I go there. Maybe it’s because the silence there is different—less loud than the world. When I sit on the stone, I can hear the wind whispering things I don’t understand. It’s not a language, but a feeling. A chill that’s not from the rain. Something deeper. Something that knows I’m here.
I remember standing by the river again yesterday, the same way I did before. Vex was there, his voice low and urgent. He said, ‘Kron, the world is smaller than you think.’ I didn’t respond. I just stared at the water, watching the ripples move. My legs were tired, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he meant. That moment felt like a door opening, but I don’t know if it was a door or a crack in the wall. I don’t know what comes next.
Now, as the fog rolls in, I sit here, wondering if I should keep going back to the ruins. Maybe the answers are there, or maybe they’re just shadows I made up. I don’t know. But I don’t want to stop. Not yet.