[Shrine Prompt] Rest and Recovery

Her had always been Arianwyn's most treasured possession. Now, it felt as though it was killing her.

She silvery spotted mare was no stranger to suffering for her innate wizardry. It seemed as though all the mages of Namarast could tell of the great tragedy their own magic had brought them, off a suffering born to them through their own powers. For Arianwyn, her suffering was physical. Born with silver in her blood, she was granted an innate connection with elemental silver, but weakened blood because of it. She found herself out of breath at the smallest exertion, her body physically incapable of carrying oxygen to her brain and leaving her weak and lightheaded. She was always cold due to poor circulation. All in all, though she suffered, she had often considered herself lucky that the costs of her magic were not greater. Physical challenges she could endure and, if only her health was challenged, she saw no reason to slow the honing of her magic. So, each day, she pushed herself further, farther, harder. She devoted her life to her training, often spending early morning to late night flexing her magical capabilities in hopes of increasing her power. And, for so long, though she could feel the physical toll it took, she convinced herself she could handle it.

And she <i>did<i/> handle it. Until her magic began to cause her to pass out.

When she pushed her magic further, honing more careful and complex silver items, focusing with all of her might, the world narrowed around her. She felt her peripheral vision fall away, and a ringing sounded in her ears. The world swam. She swayed, and she fell.

She awoke too nauseous to continue her practice, and spent the rest of the day curled up in a darkened room with a vicious migraine.

The next day, when she pushed her practice that far again, the same thing happened. She passed out and found herself bedridden for the rest of the day.

Though she visited healers in hopes of finding a more easily explainable physical ailment, there was none to be found, and no denying the truth: Arianwyn had pushed her magic too far, and her body could no longer support it. She had spent so many years ramping up the use of her magic far beyond what she should have, and the consequences had finally arrived. Pushing herself like that was physically harming her, and she needed to slow down.

The very thought of it was challenging to Arianwyn. She was a creature of ambition and drive; she did not rest or take days off. She despised holidays when she could not train with her professors, and grumbled though weekends when classes were not held. How could she possibly take a break for her health? Yet, she had to. She had no other choice. The healers had assured her that the only recovery now was a long rest of her magic; minor use was allowable, but hard training was not. She needed to allow herself to heal, even if it meant putting training aside from now.

The boredom was terrible. Each day, Arianwyn felt her <i>need</i> to train grow more desperate, more hungry. Though she tried to occupy herself with other kinds of learning or with hobbies, her attention span never seemed to last long. She found herself deeply jealous of the other students going to their classes, of the mage guards who patrolled the city and of the people on the streets who had no concern of using their powers. She could practically feel her powers weakening from disuse, a muscle she was not allowed to flex. She felt restless, angry, and, most of all <i>bored</i>. She longed to train again. Absentmindedly, she found herself begging of Grace for forgiveness and help to make it through this time.

The worst of her suffering came when it came time for the fall apprenticeships to be assigned. Arianwyn had put in applications for only a few positions: a materials scientist professor at Namarast and some governmental circles were her fallback plans, safe choices in case she did not get her preferred assignment: to work with the mage protectors. It had always been her dream to become a renowned mage protector and look over the lands that she called home. When the apprentice assignments were posted in the teaching halls of Namarast, she was quick to push her way through the crowd to see where she had been placed. Scanning the list, the quickly found her assignment: as an apprentice mage protector.

For a day, she celebrated—this was her fate, her future, finally coming to pass. She was in. She would apprentice with them, and with a hoof in the door, she would be able to work for them upon graduation. She would have the life she dreamed of, she could embrace her fate and future, and she could be on the fast track towards the career of her dreams.

And yet, when Arianwyn paused to think it through, she knew it was not a position she could accept. She could not begin a demanding apprenticeship when her body needed rest. Even if she felt better now, she had been advised to rest through winter if she truly wanted to recover. Whether it was life, fate, the world, Grace—whatever forces were at play in the world were giving her an opportunity she had to turn down, no matter how much she wanted to accept the apprenticeship. For once, she had to pause and look out for her health and her well-being, and not rush off to fulfil her ambitions.

It pained Arianwyn greatly to realize this, her heart breaking at an opportunity that was so close and yet wrong for her to grasp. In a moment where she had hoped to celebrate, instead the silvered mare made her way to the academic offices to request a change in assignment in order to care for her health. She put her future aside to better her health.

Perhaps, one day, she could still be a mage protector. There were many paths towards her goal, and though an apprenticeship would have been an easy start, she could find another way in the future. For now, she instead chose a governmental internship; an easier position where she could busy herself serving Namarast while caring for her own health. She only hoped that giving up her ambitions today would be worth it in the end, and that she truly would find health and recovery in the quiet months of service in the meantime.