Two hours, 120 minutes, that was the countdown ticking away in my mind, the time I had left to light the 15 candles with the flicker of my magic. The room was a silent chamber of shadows and light, with forty candles standing like silent sentinels, and only 25 of them danced with flames.
"Come on, I can do this," I whispered to myself, summoning the focus that had eluded me. The night was deep, likely two in the morning, and the dim glow from the lit candles cast ghostly figures on the walls.
I closed my eyes, letting the current of magic within me swell like a tide. I reached out with my senses, feeling the chill of the unlit wax, willing it to yield to warmth. This wasn't an impossible feat; it was a matter of envisioning the spark, channeling the necessary enchantment, and believing.
With a slow breath, I opened my eyes, extending my arm towards the unlit candles as if I could touch each wick from afar.
