From a distance, the stone looked small and powerless, but up close, the sides glimmered with intricacy. In the now-polished jet, Rhea had chiseled eight Stellarian runes, taking days to work them into a finished spell. Her hand trembled. She forced every thought of dropping the stone out of her head.
They all see me. She wanted to run out of the room; there were too many people there. She had counted one hundred and nineteen people as they walked in, and that was before she stopped counting.
"When we s-summon f-f..." she started.
A girl laughed, but thankfully Millina Turner elbowed the giggler in the ribs, not without one of the craft-bearers noticing too. Everyone looked straight ahead, not wanting a punishment.
"When we summon fire," Rhea continued. "We work magic from the elements around us, as the way of Niyalsay teaches us. This stone does the same, but it creates fire from..."
Her hand shook, and she could feel the weight of the stone growing. Rhea could see a thorny strand of green protective magic slithering across the side. Lady Nyallostos had helped her with that; otherwise, she might burn herself. She continued to speak:
"This creates fire from within," said Rhea.
The youngest girls still smiled, not fully understanding what Rhea meant, but the teenage girls knew. A few crossed their arms.
No Stellarian sister, save the Grand Matron, had been able to harness personal magic for centuries. The girls could tell why Lady Nyallostos was excited, but the other craft-bearers shook their heads... This was too dangerous for a grown woman, let alone a teenage girl.
Rhea closed her eyes and summoned every thought of fire she could imagine, just as she had practiced at home. First a spark, and then a dream of flame dancing in the forge. She pictured every type of fire imaginable, every flame that could be used to create, yet she had made one mistake: in her nervousness, Rhea had forgotten to bandage her hand.
"Wait!" shouted Lady Nyallostos, but it was too late.
Rhea's stone began to glow, but without guidance, the fire began to spread around her arm. A sliver of protective magic flashed around her, and disappeared, deflecting the flame to a banner just a few steps away, causing it to ignite.
The flames climbed and climbed, up the banner, twisting around the column nearby. Rhea opened her eyes. An orange glow filled the room.
"Stop!" she said, forgetting the right words. "S-stop." She had lit the Great Hall on fire.
The orphans at the very front screamed, but craft-bearers soon calmed them. It was ultimately a small fire. Still Rhea insisted on stopping it herself.
Despite her efforts, the commands did nothing. The purple and gold tapestry began to blacken and curl, all color leaving it. The hall filled with smoke, and the air smelled of burnt cloth. One of the eldest women in the back left the hall, displeased, not before letting her thoughts be known:
"Clean it up, Cala," the woman said to Lady Nyallostos.
Rhea tried to think of anything she could do to stop it. She could fix it - she was sure. But before she could act, Lady Nyallostos ran forward and climbed onto the stage, planting her feet and reaching her right arm back behind her.
In a quick twist of her body, she flicked her fingers forward.
A glowing green whip snaked past the fire from Lady Nyallostos's hand, cutting the banner down, and then recoiling backward before disappearing completely. Rhea looked away, grabbing the side of her face.
Something had stung her. Maybe the whip, maybe an ember from the tapestry. A stinging pain grew beneath her right eye. Was it a cut?
The banner fell and crumpled on the dais, the weight of it suffocating the fire almost completely. Lady Arrynel took charge of calming the youngest girls while Lady Nyallostos stamped out the remaining flames, sending embers into the air. The orange sparks swirled upward and dissipated with the smoke towards the high ceilings of the great hall.
Rhea looked down at the floor. The sacred banner, a gift to the Stellaria from a wealthy lord or lady from the last sea kingdoms, lay crumpled at the feet of her favorite teacher. She flushed, holding back her tears. In her left hand, she held the stone. This is an embarrassment I will never forget.
The eldest orphans began to laugh nervously, especially the teenagers. It wasn't the largest mistake made in a First Bearing, but it would be the most memorable of that year. It was too much for Rhea. She pressed the other hand against the right side of her face, running out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard.
Quinn ran after her as Lady Nyallostos called their names.
***
Rhea took every twisted pathway that lead from the Great Hall to the outer gardens, first past the dormitories, then seaward where the three of the Stellaria innumerable towers loomed like ancient trees. She was sure no one would follow her, they couldn't know where she was going. No one would know but Quinn.
The muddy south garden was even less forgiving than the girls had been. Rhea's shoe was stuck, again, sucked to into the wet ground. Her other shoe was secure, but still a mess. The bottom of her dress was soiled with dirt.
I might as well burn it too, she thought. This night couldn't get any worse.
Quin was close behind; Rhea could hear her steps slogging through the mud. I'll have to do it all over again, and the eldest sisters will make every one of my friends attend... I can't.
Quinn emerged through one of the small arches in the garden's wall. Her dark hair, wet in the rain, lost it's usual shine.
"You didn't have to follow me," said Rhea, holding her hand on her cheek. It still stung, but she was glad to be away from the rest of them - wet or not. She felt sick that the girls had laughed at her. They will remember this all year, she thought. They will remember this for the rest of their lives.
Quinn doesn't care when I fail. Her friend only cared that she was safe and happy. Rhea watched as Quinn followed her to the one dry spot of the garden - the partial shelter of a large blackbough tree.
"It's halfway dry here," said Rhea. "Dryer than out in the open."I think we are f-far enough away that the others won't find us. I just can't..."
"I know," said Quinn, sitting next to her under the tree. "Don't worry about the girls. Lady Nyallostos will sort out the mess."
"I don't want her to s-sort it out," said Rhea. "Why c-can't I just present the stone to her. It always w-w...." Rhea closed her eyes. It was just Quinn. No one else was there. She could control her stutter if she could just pause, just wait, just breathe. "It always works when we are alone. What should I do? Will I have to do it all over again?"
Quinn said nothing.
There were some traditions at the Stellaria that were necessary: the First Bearing, the Second Bearing, their confirmation as sisters. Every step towards becoming a servant, a warrior, a matron, a craft-bearer, or even a cook was regimented by their order. It just was their way.
When Quinn thought of the right words, the right facts, she answered. "The elder sisters will demand to see your craft some day. Consider this practice."
Rhea looked to the ground. "It's not practice," she said. "I lit the banner on fire, and they can't just find new banners."
Rhea held the stone tightly in her hand. The protective magic flicked across like light glinting across sea-glass. It was calm enough now to be used again. She placed the stone beside her and wrapped a bandage around the palm of her right hand. "I could do it without the bandage," said Rhea. "But not with Lady Nyallostos's spell."
"Are you sure you should?" said Quinn, backing away. "Isn't that how the banner lit on fire? The protective magic was keeping you from getting burned."
"She shouldn't have put the spell there in the first place," said Rhea. "Lady Nyallostos was just trying to safeguard the orphans."
She held her hand out, ready to start, but Quinn stared at her, squinting. She brought her fingertips to Rhea's face.
"What is it?" asked Rhea.
"You have something on your face, right beneath your eye. I think..."
"What?"
"I think you were burned. Does it hurt?"
It did. It hurt for the entire run from the Great Hall, past their sleeping quarters, through the marketplace, and down the south gate. It still hurt, yet the rain made it feel slightly better.
"How big is it" asked Rhea.
"It's a small burn," said Quinn. "It's just a tiny slash under your right eye."
Rhea looked away from Quinn. "No one will forget this...will they?"
Quinn moved her hand to Rhea's, but Rhea turned away. She looked forward in front of her. She could extend her hand into the rain if she failed again. I must try.
She held out her right hand and thought of the sparks again. Her fingers grew warmer and warmer until a thin layer of flame skirted around her closed fist. Even in the rain, it was bright. But then, just as quickly, the fire faded away.
"It's not ready yet," said Quinn. "Every invention takes time."
"No," said Rhea. "It's not the stone. It's me."