Twilight went right towards the light side of the room, towards the brazier that held a shimmering orb of yellow light. She knew it was light magic, and her horn told her it was, but something about the way it was kept here told her the inhabitants of the city had regarded it as something more. The same went for the dark, sputtering flame at the other end of the altar that burned with blacks, greens, and purples, although it seemed less tumultuous and painful to the eye than the dark magic Twilight knew and recognised.