It was called the Ebon Stone, a regular ole black rock by all accounts and observations, yet as Vanessa channeled all of the energy she could muster, it gleamed with a brilliant violet that washed throughout the whole of the Great Hall. The others looked on from the their respective places within the Circle, their hands up and spread wide, chanting and channeling their own magics, forming a protective barrier around Vanessa. Just in case.
Though the violet played beautifully across the flowing, silken robes of the Practitioners and the intricately carved columns that towered above them and the pearlescent marble of the floor and the pristine frescos on the ceiling, it’s gleam wasn’t nearly bright enough.
Sweat shone purple as it trickled across Vanessa’s head, her eyes clenched shut, brows trembling. Her hands shook, as did the Ebon Stone levitating above them. Her effort was audible, somewhere between a groan and a growl. And it only grew louder.
Yet and still, the Ebon Stone gave off a dim glow, at best.
With a loud grunt, Vanessa’s knees gave way under her. Candles flickered back to life as the violet glow receded; The Ebon Stone returned to its regular state of ordinariness and succumbed to gravity. Fortunately, Vanessa caught it before collapsing to her knees , and then falling to the floor.
“Not again,” said a gruff voice wearily.
Another broke away from the Circle, brushing back her hood as she rushed to Vanessa’s side. Nivea slipped a hand under Vanessa’s head and put her other to the girl’s nose to check her breathing. It was shallow, but existent. Nivea looked back up at the other Practitioners. “Are you all just going to stand there?”
There was a collective sigh from the remnants of the Circle. “Here, here,” said someone, “I’ll take her legs.”
* * *
Vanessa awoke lying flat on her back. She tried to sit up, but there was a weight on her chest that might have made a mountain like unto a feather.
“Ah, you’re awake,” said Nivea with a smile. The woman picked up a small crystal from Vanessa’s chest which caused Vanessa to jolt upright and burst into a fit of coughing. The tremendous weight had been removed, but so did it seem had her ability to breath. “Calm yourself, girl,” said Nivea, retrieving a bottle from the edge of the table on which Vanessa lay, as well as a handkerchief from another pocked of her robe. She doused the handkerchief with the contents of the bottle then pushed the cloth onto Vanessa’s face.
The girl inhaled desperately before breaking into a coughing fit once again. Vanessa took the cloth into her own hand and kept it over her nose and mouth while trying to take more controlled breaths.
Nivea took the bottle to a shelf a few steps away. They were in a small room which contained little more than that shelf, the table Vanessa was on, and a chair pushed up against the wall near the door. “Is it getting better?” she said.
“Yes,” said Vanessa, lower the handkerchief. “No, no, it’s getting worse. This time, I could feel the tightness in my chest before I had barely started.”
“The Magi warned you child, this is the burden of your sickness.”
“Yes,” said Vanessa sharply, “I know all too well the burden of my sickness. And I bear it without complaint. I have persisted through all these years of training with the vice grip of my affliction threatening to crumble me into dust. I have worked tediously, and tirelessly, and I have gotten to where I am because I am good. I am really good. I could be great, even. And I know the chants. I can weave the magic like thread. I know I can activate the Ebon Stone. But right when I feel the magic pulsing within in me, when I am so close to succeeding, this stupid, vile, toxic affliction of mine decides knocks me down.”
Vanessa was off the table and on her feet now, pacing the floor. “It’s not… I have worked harder than anyone here. I’ve passed every examination and received top reviews on all of my coursework. My research is leagues ahead of anything this Temple has ever seen, even from the Magi himself! Yet, that worthless, insignificant, little black rock continues to foil me again and again! It’s not fair!”
Nivea only looked at Vanessa, the sympathy in the woman’s eyes only making Vanessa feel that much more pitiful. The girl sat back on the table, her head hung and her arms crossed. “It’s not fair.”
Nivea stood and stepped over to Vanessa. She took the girls hands into her own. “No,” she said, “it’s not fair.”
Vanessa sighed, “But that is the burden of my sickness.”
Nivea brushed loose hair from the girl’s face and stroked her cheek before stepping away. Nivea opened the door and peeked outside before closing it back. She turned to Vanessa, her face now hard and serious. “What would you say, Vanessa, if I told you it didn’t have to be?”
Short Story Salad 