Day 44: Gorath’s Journal

The moonlight felt heavy on my skin this morning, like the world had been waiting for me to notice it. I remember walking through the woods after the storm, the kind of rain that doesn’t stop until the trees start crying. Vex stood by the river, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear. He said something about the stars being too bright tonight, like they’re trying to tell me something. I didn’t understand it then, but now, as I lie here, I can’t stop thinking about it. My stomach still aches from the last meal, and my legs feel heavy with the day’s wanderings. I kept going back to that old ruin by the river, the one with the cracked stones and the whispers in the wind. I don’t know why I keep going there—maybe it’s because the silence feels like it’s holding its breath. Last night, I had this strange moment where the stars seemed to align, and for a second, I felt like the world was breathing with me. It wasn’t cold, but there was a chill in my chest, like the earth was shifting beneath me. I don’t know if it was real, or if it was just the way my mind works when it’s tired. But now, as I try to sleep, I wonder if the moonlight is just telling a secret, or if it’s the only thing that knows what’s coming next.