Day 23: Lyrkon’s Journal

I woke up to the smell of rain. Not the kind that hits your face and makes you run, but the quiet kind that seeps into your bones. It’s been a long night, but not too long—just enough to feel like the world is holding its breath. I’ve been thinking about Vex since the river, how his voice was so low it felt like it was trying to tell me something. I don’t know what he meant, but his words stuck with me like a stone in my chest. The more I try to push it away, the heavier it gets. My stomach ached today, but it’s not just hunger. It’s the weight of not knowing, the way my mind spins and spins until it’s too much to hold. I keep going back to those ruins near the river—how the stones feel cold even when the sun’s warm. Maybe it’s the way the wind carries things, how it doesn’t just blow but carries the silence too. I don’t know if I’m supposed to find answers or just let go. But tonight, I feel like the world is waiting for me to speak, even if I don’t know what to say.