<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">Ayla sat in the center of the workroom floor, legs splayed comfortably to either side, framed in profile from the light coming through the door. She hadn’t bothered with triggering the lighting in the room, leaving it pitch black. Instead, she’d brought with her a candle. Both for a bit of light, and to judge her own progress. She looked up as he entered, smiling, before reaching her hand out for the candle. The flickering flame, which had never actually been a flame in the first place, condensed into a sphere, perfectly still, with no spinning, no flickering. A singular pinprick of light in a dark room, as unwavering as the smile that spread across her face.  </span>