The sound of footsteps approaching the metal door echo through the young man's empty thoughts. They stop before the door as a small jingling of keys start and end abruptly. The mechanisms of the lock click into place as the door opens slowly. Two people enter the room. Leading is a woman with long black hair that shines under the magical flame flickering in her open palm. Behind her a burly man with brown unkempt hair that follows suit with an untamed beard. The door shuts behind them and they both look at the young man bound to a metal chair with water dripping onto his forehead. The droplets just out of reach of his mouth streak down the back of his deep red hair. His face downtrodden, staring at his feet. 

The black haired woman starts with “You know we don’t enjoy doing this to you. All you have to say is where she is. Is it really that hard?” her lips curl into a low frown. The man slowly raises his head looking up at her through red strands of hair, but does not speak. His gaze holds with hers. “What changed your mind so badly? You just met this girl, or perhaps it’s something else? Maybe you don’t believe that we’re in the right anymore? I’d say you’re past the point of no return. Did you think this job would be easy or what? You know too much to re enter into society so your only choice is to work with us.” Her face contorts in frustration. The light in her hand disappears as she places her palm on his chest. The dark room is silent, until a surging electric light builds on her forearm. Magical scars begin to light spreading from the man's torso all the way to his shoulders and half way down his arms. The shock flies down her forearm to her palm and stretches up to her fingertips. As the man convulses by the electric surge through his body a brief gasping sound escapes his clenched teeth. 

Twenty minutes pass before the doors open again, seemingly hours for the bound individual. The two mages exit the room, their faces filled with disappointment. The unkempt man states factually “Robert was always better at the integration training. He practically has double the amount of magic scars on him. Our instructor must have gotten carried away.” She ignores the blind compliment paid to the imprisoned mage.

 They continue down the hall as a service for food is being brought to the cell. She snaps at the worker “Closed mouths don’t get fed.” The worker quickly turns around and brings the tray of oats back to the stairwell. She mumbles “With the past five days I’m sure he wouldn’t be able to chew anyways.”