Bearing the Light was harder than it looked. All anyone could see was a glowing nimbus of pale light, one that grew brighter as its surroundings became darker. No one could ever know how unbelievably heavy it was until they held it in their hands themselves—an impossibility unless you were a Bearer.

I know I didn’t believe it when Shawn cautioned me to use both hands and bend at the knees. I laughed, not at him but at myself, to join him and let him know that I knew I was the butt of a joke. He didn’t laugh though, just gave a tiny shake of his head and dropped the Light onto my waiting palm. It wasn’t immediately dense, for which I am very thankful. If it had had the weight back then that I carry now, I would have thrown out my back and been pinned screaming to the ground by my shattered hand. Instead it passed through my skin which began to radiate a weak light.

Shawn breathed a sigh that sounded very much like relief.

“How come it’s so dim?” I asked.

“It’ll grow brighter the longer you carry it.”