There are many ways to counter a spell. A subtle and cunning magician would simply dismantle a spell covering this wide an area. The trick is finding the right component to remove and such things require patience and subtlety—two things with which I was never compatible. Brute force, on the other hand, was second nature to me.
For the second time, I raised Djinn high above my head, holding it as if it were a trophy and I the athlete who had just won it. I poured as much energy as I could into it, making the blade glow intensely. Blue became white and after a few seconds, hot, searing, smiting, supernova light pushed back against the swallowing darkness of the spell, although I had to shut my eyes; the luminosity was too painful. The pressure dropped, and both light and darkness vanished, leaving behind a ringing silence broken only by my panting breath. Natural light hit the walls, revealing a very mediocre paint job.
My hearing picked up things that had been dulled out before: the chirping of birds, the distinct, tense orders from the police officers outside.
And the muffled whimpering of children.