Thread: From Rebel to Mentor ((Kikora and I))

Teyha wasn't sure how it came to this. She stood before the council of elders once again, clad in old black robes, a black hood her head. Next to the ornate robes and garb the elders wore, she looked small and raggedy, hardly worth noticing, much less defending. 'One spell.' She thought frantically. 'I didn't think it would cause all this!' She couldn't even see the aggressors as they surrounded her, speaking to themselves softly about her fate. She had been in the room nearly twenty minutes already, but she wasn't allowed to say a word in her defense, the guards next to her effectively silencing any attempts she made at speech. Without warning, their was a crash, and the muttering voices silenced. Teyha had no idea what made the sound, and held her breath, waiting anxiously for the male voice to fill her ears. He sounded annoyed.... More than annoyed, actually. His voice grew stronger, and she could only assume he was walking towards her, but more importantly... He was speaking for her! For a moment Teyha thought her heart would burst from her chest, a sudden lump in her throat when a kindling of hope ignited in her. Someone was on her side, even simply one council member, it was so very much more than she had before. The guards tightened their grip on her as the man continued, speaking passionately about law and justice, his voice echoing in Teyha's ears. 'Have I finally gone mad?' She questioned herself as he spoke, his words too good to be true. The next few moments passed as if a glorious dream following a grim nightmare. The councilman who was pushing hardest for her disposal was now speaking with the faceless man who pushed for her freedom. They passed a few brief words before Teyha's fate was decided, and she wanted to cry in joy. The hood was yanked away, the light assaulting Teyha's eyes, and forcing her to blink a few tomes before she was able to see the face of the man who rescued her. He helped her slowly to her feet, and she quivered slightly, eyes wide and still full of fear as the head wizard issued his warning. 'But that isn't fair to him!' She thought about protesting, before her wiser mind cut the words short, knowing better than to object now. She had no intention of delving into darker magic and becoming a warlock... Her hand was forced in one desperate, and stupid move. All this that followed... It was simply ridiculous. So she kept silent, her eyes slightly downcast. One thing was certain, she didn't look like a warlock. Her fingers pulled idly on her robes, twisting the cloth around her fingers while she shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. She was short, perhaps five foot five, with a narrow form that hinted that she had not yet reached full maturity. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet those of her rescuer, wanting to see if there was an edge of fear on his face at this last condition. In truth, she was a sight. Her normally messy black hair had been further disturbed by the hood, wisps of the dark curls falling to obstruct her red-rimmed grey. It was obvious she had been crying at one point, and her face was slightly reddened, a dampness in her cheeks. More disturbing, there were obvious bruises along her jawline and neck, four deep purple marks on one side, and a larger splotch on the other. Courtesy of her assaults. Thank you. She mouthed, not daring speak in the room full of elders.