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Chapter 7 by nlautneg nlautneg

Examine the clothes, or curl up to sleep without touching them?

Examine them.

Though the oppressive quiet of the corridor was gone, the weight of the jagged markings still pressed against her thoughts, and the sudden silence of the voice in her head was as unnerving as anything it had said.

She approached the pile cautiously, her fingers brushing against the fabrics. The garments’ cleanliness was a stark contrast to the old, worn surroundings of the monastery.

For a moment, she considered ignoring them entirely—curling up on the straw mattress and forcing herself to sleep without touching the unsettling pile. But habit won out. Do as I would at home, she told herself, her hands hesitating briefly before picking up the first item.

The fabric was soft, smooth as silk, but heavier, as though woven with something more dense. She began to fold each piece carefully. A hooded robe with long sleeves. A tunic with a high, stiff collar that bent at a sharp angle. Then odd things: unattached sleeves with corded ties, a thick belt stitched with intricate patterns; a plain, ordinary loop of fabric, and a netlike cloth in the shape of a hood.

The pile seemed endless, the garments growing more bizarre the deeper she went. She found a pair of gloves with no fingers, and a dress so small it must have been meant for a child.

When she finally finished folding them, her hands hovered over the pile. She selected something plain and comfortable-looking—a simple robe with a soft, loose fit—and slipped it on, breathing in the faint, earthy scent of the fabric. It was soothing, enough to quiet her racing thoughts.

She moved to extinguish the candle but paused, her eyes drifting back to the pile. Something was missing.

The rock.

Her heart skipped. When she’d first approached the pile, a small, dark stone had sat atop the garments, it. But now, it was gone.

She searched the floor, but the stone was nowhere to be found. She looked over to the stones on the table. Had she put it with the others without thinking? A strange feeling prickled the back of her neck.

But the room remained silent, undisturbed.

Search for the rock, or try to sleep?

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