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White magics swirled and dodged in and out of the apple in front of the mage girl. Her brow was soaked with sweat and creased with frustration. Her eyes were tinted red and puffy as tears hung loose on her lower lashes. With every surge of raw magical energy brought daggers to her blood. All in hopes to heal the sliver removed.
The apple bore the same cut as the others, it pulsed with every jolt of energy, but still retained itself. A little candle shined over the countless other crushed fruit. Some chunks stuck to the wall and bruised her skin with impacted. Her desk she practiced on was sticky with a thick layer of apple juice.
Bethany last push put the apple in the state of the others. It skin exploded with a fresh crisp sound as its body caught in every crevasse available. Her mana was drained, so much effort gone to waste, and all that time.
Trembling her tears clashed with on the desk mixing with the apple matter. they ran hot and fast down her face, she tried to stop but more flooded her face. The heavy sobbing caught in her throat, as grieving pain tore at her heart.
A force mage should hope for nothing other than force magics. Her father taught her beyond her years. But no matter how many years she trained, or how many tips given or potions given could have saved her brother that day. She knew that but greif fuled her, pushed her, punished her. She fought through her lessons so that another person didn't die because she was incompetent and unable to help.