by Willan Ellis
The room was pitch black, and only a small hint of light from the two moons shone through the small window, but not enough to light the dreary room. She was curled up against the wall. She was cold and the dampness from the walls was turning the room into a cool room. She almost screamed out loud as she wished she could at least have a flame to light the candle. A slight scent of singed hair filled her nostrils, she moved back and rubbed her arm, the feeling of burnt hair startled her. She looked down at her wrist, the glow was there but not enough to cast any light, and she sighed as she rolled onto her back. She slowly adjusted the journal under her head that she now used as a pillow.
Stretching her hand toward the ceiling looking at the glow in her wrist with admiration, she playfully flicked her wrist toward the ceiling. A sudden thin line of fire shot from her wrist and hit the ceiling extinguishing on contact. She sat up quickly and looked down once again at her wrist. Concentrating, she called the power.
A small flame ignited at the end of her finger; she gasped as she watched it dance about. Slowly turning to the candle she placed the flame to the wick.
Teanne smiled triumphantly.
Luia - Morning
