It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you, touching the handprint burned onto Vax's back, casts Daylight as a light to guide him back from the darkness. Grog steps up, slaps Vax's body hard across the face, and tells him,  I told you before.
DM: Okay. The minute the words, what say you, leave your lips, one third of the glyph (charging noise) vibrates to life. Where the golden light of Sarenrae's power that the glyph initially emanates, the light, as it brightens, becomes a purplish-blue hue. So. Who wishes to be the next offering?
Player: I'll go. I go up to him, and I prop up his back and set him up against my chest and whisper into his ear and say, I know you can hear me. I know you're still in there, and I'm sure she can hear me too, but your sister is right. You've held up to your promise, to her, and you've made a promise to me. We have to settle down and live happily together, remember? You promised me. Vesrah. So I want to give you a little bit of light to follow in the darkness. And I find the scar on his back of my handprint. And I find it and I cast Daylight into his back, into the hand print and say, and besides... You know I'm in love with you, right? (quietly) That's it.
DM: Roll a d20 and add your wisdom.
Player: God damn it (sniffles) Which dice? Okay. 20 total.
DM: 20 total.
Player: Yeah. (whispering) Come on, come on, come on.
DM: As the Daylight spell brightens, your instinct is to close your eyes, but you push against it, and you know this will temporarily burn to your retinas but you still, holding that still--
Player: I don't care.
DM: --whispering into him. You can feel, not just the tears of your emotion but the instinctual pain of the blinding light piercing the inside of your eyes, but you hold strong as you whisper to him and as the final word leaves your lips, the second portion of the glyph grows alight and then transitions to that same purple-blue color. At which point, the Daylight spell diminishes in a way that you weren't expecting. As opposed to being this bright, glowing, blasting beacon, it shrinks down to a small condensed gentle glow, and you're afraid to move your hand.
Player: And I don't.
DM: Okay. There's the last offering.
