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The bulk of that memory has faded away, but still she could make out its image, somewhat vividly.
There was only ever one rule she enforced upon herself, when she chose to write her name into the exam's registry form, and stepped into the grand halls of the Continental Magic Association's building, almost twenty years ago: She must stay above this mindless violence at all cost.
And yet.
Sense could still feel it on herself, that blurry memory - The wet squelch of innards as her weapon pierced through firm flesh, the hot sensation that submerged every strand as she pulled away, her hair soaked in a stranger's blood. And he fell fast to the floor, leaking red all over the grass, so she could stay frozen in place, weighed down by her own two feet, but alive.
A mage of slightly taller stature, with a head of thick black hair, younger than her by a few years at best, a wooden staff adorned with ribbons loosely held in his twitching hand, as his fingers fought to grip onto it for comfort in the who knows how many seconds he had to wallow in his agony prior to his departure.
All while the sharpened lance hovering over her shoulder dripped from its work.
Within the Mage Exams, it was legal to exterminate another, if it meant furthering one's own progress within any given test. A risk all mages were made to accept, should they wish to advance in their certifications.
Even now, she wondered.
Were those killings ever necessary?
Her long hair rested with her on the cold floor as she leaned forward, now victim to the fire that assaulted her throat, gripping onto that little wastebin for dear life. Sense lifted her head, her bangs still clean, thankfully, and stared down at the liquidy filth she just released.
Time and time again, she reassured herself that she has grown thicker skin. It couldn't be more false now, as the evidence leaked out from her lips, that she's still just as sensitive as ever.
Her stomach squeezed into itself harshly, and feeling every pulse, she involuntarily jerked forward. There is nothing more to spit out.
In her mess, she vaguely recalled the shape of his face. His black hair, his nose, his widened eyes, and the shock he wore on his too-young face.
She'll never, ever forget.