You summon several lights that can help you out in the dark.

You whisper the words to the spell and breathe upon the material component, as if blowing life into a fire. You make small gestures, say small swords, and offer a tiny thing, but your subtle request receives a bright answer from the fabric of magic as light blooms into being.

Pinching the phosphorus between my thumb and forefinger, I sprinkle it around me in a wide arc as I speak the casting phrase. The dust hangs in the air momentarily before coalescing into four small orbs, each glowing with the warmth of a firefly. I feel relief as the lights bob gently around me, keeping the darkness at bay.