"Huzzah." He muttered under his breath as the glass changed colour.<br/><br/>He wanted to do it again, but the lesson had moved on. The glowing particles of mana disappeared, then, one by one, so did the light from the candles and window. Standing in the semi-dark, he tried to think about what Jachym was trying to tell him to do. To see heat. What would it look like? Red... heat was red. The colour of flame, burns, blushes and blood. Cold would be blue - cold lips, fingers and deep dark lakes. That made sense.<br/><br/>Staring into the room he tried to fix the idea of seeing these colours in his mind. There's be red around the flask, as well as the recently doused flames. The floor stonework would be colder, bluer. Holding that in his mind, he tried to fit everything he could half-see or remember into that pattern. He would be red (though he pictured his old body unconsciously), as would Jachym. Finally, when he had enough of a picture to try it, Arran pulled on the mana inside him - which was harder than it had been before, like getting the last seeds out of a sack.<br/><br/>Then, the room exploded into a spectrum of of hot reds and yellows, and cold blues and purples.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>One success. No mana.