Just Thinking

Ciaran scanned his immediate surroundings, but it was fairly obvious that Brenna lived more sparsely than the village beggar. He stared at the pile of kindling helplessly. In the background, Brenna was muttering to herself, searching.

Just light, Ciaran thought. He reached out and poked the kindling.

Sparks flew, and heat blazed up his arm. He cried out and wrenched his hand back, terrified.

“That was well done,” Brenna said, coming to stand beside him. She held out a sword. “Here. It’s lighter than mine.”

Ciaran stared at the merrily-crackling fire. He’d lit it just by thinking about it.