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She is so cold.


That’s not entirely true. The Light within her is scorching hot, molten lava pooling in her core and slowly dripping down her spine, but her skin is icy to the touch, sweat soaking through the fabric of her robes. The dissonance between heat and chill makes her lightheaded, and she can barely see through the haze of light that clouds her vision.


The corruption of the Light spreads with each passing day, a slow poison that trickles through her veins. Her body feels like it’s ripping itself apart on the worst days, the Light tearing at the very seams of her existence, too large for her feeble mortal body to contain. It leaves her gasping for breath, cold sweat dripping from her forehead as she hears, feels her soul creaking and straining and cracking against the flood of Light.


Her hand scrabbles for the jade charm lying flat against her neck, the stone still slightly warm against her touch. Her fingers trace over the worn ridges of the stone, a slow exploration of familiar grooves and etchings. The motion is soothing and her breaths come a little easier than before.


In, out.


In, out.


In, out.


Her shaking slowly calms into a tremble that is easier to disguise and the crashing waves of nausea recede into something easier to swallow. Her vision is still dotted with specks of bright white but she forces herself to stand up and painstakingly limp her way to the bathtub. The effort takes far too long for her taste but she eventually reaches her destination, crawling into the clean tub and peeling off each layer of clothes one by one.


A hot bath to clear her mind, then food and hopefully a night of dreamless sleep.