The river was cold tonight. Not like the river when I was little, where the water was warm and the stones were smooth under my feet. This river felt like it was breathing. Like it was holding its breath and waiting for something. Vex stood by the water, his voice low, almost like he was speaking to the stones themselves. ‘You don’t have to be afraid,’ he said. But I heard the way his voice cracked at the end, like he was holding back something heavy. I thought about how the river had been so still for hours, then suddenly it started to move, and I knew he was right—some things don’t have to be afraid. I walked back to my place, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the water. It felt like it was watching me. Like it knew things I didn’t want to know.
Day 1: Lyra’s Journal
