In a secluded room of the ancient monastary, the thin frame of a young girl of perhaps eight years sat motionless on the cold stone floor. Her legs crossed and her back straight in the lotus position, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, you'd almost take her for a statue if it weren't for the slow raising and falling of her chest as she breathed the frigid air. A small candle sat in its dish on the floor in front of her, the small flame casting a flickering light on the walls of the chamber, the tiny column of warm air rising from its spark of heat barely holding back the midwinter cold.
After a time, perhaps a few moments or pehaps a few millennia, the candle rose slowly from the floor. The small flame came to float in midair at the girl's eye level. Then, just as slowly it sank back down and came to rest on the floor again.
She grinned from ear to ear and looked up at the hooded figure of the monk observing her. "I did it master! I even set it do