You are the five-hundredth light.

Four hundred and ninety-nine candles, placed diligently in a perfect circle in the middle of the room. The first one lit from a flame from your hands. Each then lit from the one before it. Ten seconds each candle burns, before you move it to light the next.

No wax drips on the floor. Your hand is steady, your mind is calm. You track no time except for the interval allowed each light before it passes its strength to the next. One light to the next, and the dark room grows brighter and brighter.

Each light is a pinprick in your sight, adapted to a day in the dark. Your sight grows wider, grows deeper as each candle shares its light with you.

Four hundred and ninety-nine. The last candle is lit.

You sit in the middle of this perfect circle, sharing the warmth and the energy from the light you have birthed from yourself. They each whisper to you and say the same thing.

You are the five-hundredth light.