Tanken om Tanken

As dark as before. He looked straight in the djungle, looking through the dark woods, passing the miscoloured trees. Beside one of them there's a big rock, shimmering in the moonlight. The light of the moon reached his eyes. The rock, there! There's the spot! He knows it. There's where he's supposed to be. Right there. He followed this insipid feeling, not knowing why, or how he found it in the first place. But he did know, there's where he's suppose to stand. There, at the only spot moonlight reached between some treetops in the otherwise dark wood. 
  And there he stood. The moonlight flashed his eyes. He'd never seen the moon glow that much before, never seen a light pierce a dark place as this light right now did before his eyes. It was beautiful, yet frightening. Suddenly he knew what to do. It came to him as thunder striking down. He looked at his hand, and then he did it. What he'd always known how, but never done. Or had he?
 From his pawn a flaming light was sipping out, hovering, taking the form as a sphere. Shimmering, brighful light toke its place in his hand. A globe, an orb, a ball... of fire. Fire.
  He looked at it and didn't feel surprised, not amazed, not shocked. He could only feel the flaming sphere in his hand. There wasn't anything else. The world toke the form of a bright globe of fire. He had the power of life in his hand, the power of death, the power of warmth and the power of destruction. He controlled it, every little piece, every little component. It could take it's form of anything and he played with it, threw it in the air and catched it without beeing burned, made it hover over the trees, flying around, circulating around his body, up and down, left and right. He did everything, everything he could figure out. He made it smaller, made it bigger. He made it flow, flying past all the trees, as a brightful bird it flew, lighted the dark djungle.
  Suddenly it flew up straight up in the sky until you couldn't see it anymore, and he made it shatter. Small, small components of fire was swirling, slowly with the wind until everything was covered with them. He made them glow, yet not burn. There it was, a djungle, that had been in total darkness, in total light. And in a second, all pieces had formed the bright sphere in his hand again. He hold it, made it hover over his palm. With a single movement with his fingers, it was gone. No smoke, no smell did it leave. All it had left behind was the lack of its warmth.

And with that movement, with that moment,  he woke up, knowing that it was real.