Broken
Zillah Arvid fumed as the door slammed in her face. She resisted the urge to pound her fists against its metal surface and turned away, letting out a scream of anguish and frustration. Rage built up inside her, Void energy turning the world into a purple haze and demanding to be let out to destroy it. Grabbing a guardrail, she closed her eyes tight and tried to force herself to calm down. The urge to lash out at everything around her passed, and Zillah opened her eyes. Casting one last spiteful look at the large metal door, the Warlock stalked down the metal walkway and headed in the direction of her ship.
How? How could they refuse to even see her? She had heard the call. True, it had been faint. An echo of a whisper lost in a crashing sea, but she had heard. She heard the voice of the Queen calling the Awoken to return. The same way she had felt drawn to the Tower and the Last City, though that had been louder, a desperate cry drowning out every other noise. Maybe it had covered too many other voices. Perhaps she had answered the call too late, had already been disregarded before she had a chance to answer.
No other Guardian had ever spoken of a call. No other Guardian had ever mentioned feeling compelled to seek the Awoken. Now, however, it was the only call she heard. The other voices had grown silent, she felt no connection to them any longer. Had she alone heard, or did they simply ignore that call, treat it as white noise? It would explain the disdain on every face here. Explain why the Queen of the Awoken seemed to look on Awoken Guardians as lesser things, because she believed they had chosen another voice to heed.
Regardless of that, she was here. She had come when no other had done so, and they still spurned her? Fury threatened to boil over again, and she bit back another scream. She had decided to show them her worth, prove her value. Then they would accept her. So she had.
Zillah had set upon the trail of traitorous Wolves with great zeal, killing or capturing Silent Fang, Barons and Baronesses, and decimating their ranks. She had fought in the Prison of Elders, pushing herself to outperform every other Guardian who set foot in the Reef. She had met every challenge set forth by Variks, by Petra, and cut through them with ruthless efficiency. None of it seemed to matter. They still rejected her.
By now the fury and rage were near constant companions, life preservers she clung to so that she would not be overwhelmed by the helplessness, the feeling of having no solid ground to stand on. She felt alone in the universe, brought back to life to serve a god she no longer believed in, desperate to serve a queen who had no interest in her services, and part of a race that refused to count her as one of their own. Even her abilities were beginning to fail her, her connection to the Light damaged by this internal schism. Her Ghost, Feivel, did what he could to help her, but what was one small voice against all the voices of the universe?
...
Very short, but a brief glimpse into Zillah and her mindset pre-TTK.
Order and Chaos - Qui Iudicant - I like keeping it intentionally vague. Could be Guardians and a Ghost, could be students and a teacher, could be some people in the city.
MaybeALittleBroken - So now I'm responsible for keeping you alive? Don't put that kind of pressure on me, please.