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Against the cold 1

I opened my eyes to near-darkness. Panic and confusion set upon me as I quickly stood up, my eyes frantically searching where the glowstones of my bedroom should be softly shining. While dark, the room had just enough light for me to dimly make out my surroundings, and I realized with a start that I was not in my bedroom.

This should have been obvious to me at first, since I awoke in a chair which was – although very well padded and comfortable – certainly not the bed I had fallen asleep in. I could see the outlines of other chairs and a small table, and could just barely make out where the nearest wall was. This was not my sitting room. This was not my home.

My racing thoughts were interrupted by a soft blue-white light from another room, illuminating an empty doorway. The tension in my chest eased and my fists unclenched as the darkness abated some.

“Hello? Who is there?”

“Hello again, Lanon Candle,” I recognized the voice as Grace entered the room. She was the source of the soft light. Ghosts do that.

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