Volunteering at the Village ❅ Secondary Magic Training

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With the change of seasons came Tess' change of heart. Every year, akin to a clockwork, the violet eyed slayer did her time. Her charity. Her punishment for her suns—a full day of volunteering at any local community center—intended to bring her soul back to the light. Most likely, she had fallen too far from grace for redemption, but the white and blue striped head shook side to side at that consideration. With no room for doubt in her heart or soul, Tess would continue to strive for perfection. Failing that, excellence was in sight.

On the anniversary of her mentor's passing, the pale headed mage inevitably visited her grave. Though the head stone was uselessly marking a spot where her bones certainly did not lay, interred, it meant the world to the maiden all the same.

Five years ago, on that fateful day, the slender girl was greeted by a jarring sight. Across the kitchen table, streaks of blood marred the beautiful wooden surface. The finish was gouged away, ribbons of wood scratched off and piled in heaps at the edges of the slab. Horrifyingly, the red liquid slugged all around the room was still wet. Dripping quietly down the walls of the room, Tess had stood for a minute, unable to comprehend the situation.

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Lingering on this series of thoughts was unpleasant, and the white haired slayer no longer cared to mull over the memory. Instead, she turned her attention to the bird sitting docilely on her shoulder. "Fox, are you hungry? Would you like to eat breakfast?" The bird made no reply, and as a consequence Tess returned her gaze to the path in front of her. The violet eyed mage had come to celebrate her mother's memory. Strangely enough, despite the woman's abuse, she still loved her as a daughter. Tess could only assume it was from years of time spent together and slowly becoming accustomed to the other's presence that it was hard to bear the absence of it.

Up above their heads, birds sang their songs of love and mating. While the sounds in themselves did not attract the white and blue haired girl's ire, Tess' heart still pricked with an unreasonable emotion at the noise. 'So carefree, and unknowing of their fate,' she mused. 'Do animals know when they are going to die? When they are in pain, and about to leave this world, do they have thoughts of where they may go?' Truly, it was a stretch to say that beasts argued in their mind in the same way humans could. Unlike people, creatures could have memories and learn but in a much shallower sense. However, Tess felt certain about some special aspects of fauna. First of all, they were born with an ingrained affinity for one demeanor over another. Regardless, akin to humans, they had the capacity for change—only, it was better called 'training' among most.

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