Forgotten No More

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the room was the stench.

It smelled like someone did not take a bath in weeks. It definitely stunk like only a female could as well. I tried my best to keep a straight face and not puke as I adjusted to the light of the room.

It was a dark room, completely reinforced with cold stone. No light shone in anywhere except for the metal door behind me, slightly swung open. The air in here was warm and stale. This did not help with the odor. Nonetheless, I adjusted my glasses and looked to the center of said room. There were two wooden chairs, facing each other, on a side of a small table. One of these seats were already occupied. My patient.

Of course, some rather called them prisoners. These were people on the wrong side of the law, after all. Yet, to me, they were my patients. Misunderstood, lost, did not know better... My poor patients, needing proper guidance in life. The woman at the table was my patient.

My first, in fact.

She had recently been housed in the inhospitable Terrinore. She had been positive she deserved it as well. Yet, after the volcanic eruption that decimated Lornius, I sought permission to rehouse those misunderstood ones in my own program. In Alerar. This was the system I hoped would benefit the world as well as the patients. I hoped to guide these people to a better lifestyle.

She was looking away from me, at the wall. Her eyes were narrowed in thoughts unknown. Thoughts I hoped to crack the code to. She appeared thin. Nothing but skin and bones, she seemed to carry no self respect. She wore a stained, plain shirt and grubby pants. Her hair was down, untouched by a comb for a long while. Her skin was greasy, covered by acne. She had a healed over scar running down her neck, to her chest.

I stepped forward, placing a cup of water down on the table. I slid it towards her as I pulled my chair out to sit down. "Greetings."

She did not respond. Not in the slightest. Did she know I was here?

I sat down, scooting the chair closer. The chair squealed in retaliation to being moved, which finally caused her eyes alone to look at me, emotions clouded.

Her eyes each carried a different color. One was blue, the other burgundy. Her button nose would make her look cute if were not for... well...

I sighed, sitting straight while she bent over. I cleared my throat. "Greetings."

She blinked, slowly turning her head to my direction.

I raised an eyebrow. She was slow to respond. She seemed uninterested in conversation, or human interaction at all. Isolation. This worried me.

I placed my hands on the table, firm yet gentle. "Let us get this out of the way first, Miss Icebreaker."

I narrowed my eyes with meaning, "You will respond when I talk to you. Understand?"

She opened her lips to respond, but only a rasp came out. I watched as her throat throbbed. Then, finally, words. Her voice was cracked from a lack of use, but it was words none the less. "Yes, sir."

I leaned forward and pushed the water closer to her. She obviously needed it. My patient! I would cure her of her ailments.

"Now, Miss Icebreaker," I spoke in a dignified manner, "The first thing we should talk about is your hygiene."

My lips are tied up in silence
Inside lives a conscience divided
I thought I was in control
Thought I was invincible
I got to lock up the dark in my soul
Cuff the criminal... ~ Disciple.




Forgotten No More.

[Solo.]

~~~

"Your turn."

The sound of tiny, glass tapping sounded from across the room. At a wooden table, two more "patients" played chess. From a cushioned seat close to the door, she watched.

The young woman, wearing the standard grey clothes everyone here wore, watched them play the game.

He wouldn't suck at this game so far if he didn't sacrifice so many pawns.

She could probably win if she tried her hand at it, but she really was not that interested. She simply looked back down at the notebook in her hand. She continued to draw a rose. Complicated, with swirls and curved lines. She was almost done shading the first petal.

It had been suggested by her doctor that she pick up hobbies. Nothing quite seemed to interest her at first, but she eventually started to enjoy the arts enough to try her hand at drawing and music.

In this light, blue walled room, she worked at it. Her pale skin showed that she had not seen sunlight in a long time. She was stuck in this building with its tight schedules and forced therapy sessions... Still, it was better than the last prison she had been to.

This was the recreational hour. Dedicated to social interaction and practicing any hobbies or activities one enjoyed. On the floor, a young man was building small models of houses with wood. Admittedly, it made the room smell good today. It smelled like the forest.

As she shaded another petal, she sighed. She honestly wished she could step outside again. She was promised a chance to make up for her past mistakes. She was promised missions, jobs... why had she not seen them? She bit her lip. She knew she could never make up for her past mistakes, but she wanted to at least feel like she was doing something right for once...

Her neck itched. Reaching up, she scratched as much of her neck as she could. With the metal collar tight around her neck, it was hard to manage at times.

The door opened.

She took no notice. It was probably a guard checking for something. She heard mumbling amongst some guards up ahead, then jumped when she heard her name.

"Ashla Icebreaker?"

The entire room grew silent. Even with her eyes still boaring into her notebook, she felt all eyes on her. She was quite well known in this prison. To many of these convicts, she was the criminal who slew criminals. She was Ayleth, the Executioner of the Wicked.

Ashla finally looked up two guards towered over her. Within this moment, her mind flew through her last twenty four hours. Had she done something wrong?

One of the guards tapped her baton and nodded her head towards the door. "The Head wants to see you."

The Head psychologist, the leader of this program, her personal therapist.

Ashla lowered her pad. Obviously, she was wanted now. "Can I bring my book?"

The guards exchanged glances. The woman shrugged. The man looked to Ashla and nodded, "Sure. Don't see any harm that could do."

"But that be Ayleth you taking!"

The guards turned to see one of the chess players, a redheaded dwarf, scowling. Still holding a knight piece in his hand, he pointed at her. "She can't be trusted!"

The male guard sighed. "I'm too tired for your garbage today, Wori."

The other chess player butted in, "Yeah! Just because she's been on good behavior doesn't mean she can be trusted with anything!"

The dwarf turned back to the board and slammed the horse piece down. The entire board rattled. "Indeed!"

The man rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Ashla slouched and put the book aside. Some of these prisoners knew some of people Ashla had killed in the name of justice. She was an outcast amongst the people who were trying to obtain redemption alongside her. Often times, she was picked out by the ones who had a bone to pick with her. Ashla could not blame them. She deserved it...

She stood up and let the guards handcuff her. Then, they led her out.

The hallways were all the same. At this floor of the prison, there were nice rugs laid out and fancy furniture. Led up stairs and a through corridors, Ashla eventually was standing in front of a wooden door. One guard knocked.

"Come in!" a familiar voice called immediately. He sounded cheerful for someone who ran a prison.

The door was swung open by the guard. Inside, there was an office with green carpeting and a curved wooden table. The air smelled of flowers, as several long vaces of them stood in the corners. Ashla was pushed in by one of the guards, causing her heart to jump for a second.

"Undo the cuffs and leave us." In a long, cushioned chair at the head of the desk, a dark elf sat. Purple skin and white hair. He was neither handsome or ordinary. His features were sharp, yet he showed no signs of physical exercise. Laid back, yet still firm, he had his head raised in dignity. He motioned the guards with a flick of his hand. "Hurry."

A guard undid her handcuffs slowly. Ashla looked to where another figure leaned against the white paneled wall. She was quite similar in appearance to the glasses wearing head director. Yet, she was younger and better fit. She wore a short, purple dress and held a fan in her hand. She watched as the cold metal cuffs fell off Ashla's hands. As Ashla rubbed her wrists, the guards slid from the room and shut the door.

"Miss Icebreaker, yes." Ashla looked back at the psychologist. "Take a seat, friend. We have business to discuss."

Ashla briefly looked over to the woman who leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She narrowed her eyes at the ex-convict as she pulled out a wooden seat and sat down, facing the psychologist.

“Doctor Kalasanwe.”

Kalasanwe folded his hands, a small smile spreading across his face. “I take it you took time to socialize with other convicts before I pulled you out?”

Ashla leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. She looked away as she spoke bitterly. “It’s hard to make friends around here.”

The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Des it mean you should not try, however?”

Ashla’s heterochromic eyes narrowed further. She took a while before responding again. “… When everyone hates me for killing a family member or something, it’s difficult.”

The doctor leaned forward, his chair squeaking he lifted his folded hands to his lips in thought.

From the other side of the room, a strong cough was heard. Ashla’s eyes widened. She looked over to see the female dark elf standing up. “Perhaps we should focus on the reason you called her here, brother.”

Kalasanwe looked over to his sister, eyes widening as he smiled. “Of course, Turawyn.”

Ashla looked back to her doctor, rubbing one of her arms as she slouched a bit. “What’s going on?”

Turawyn rolled her eyes and started walking towards the desk. When she came closer, Ashla could smell heavy perfume on her. It was a bit too strong for her taste. Ashla lifted an eyebrow as the girl just sat on her older siblings desk. She shrugged. “Well, this whole rehabilitation place is going to take a major step in the world.”

A chuckle turned Ashla’s attention to Kalasanwe, who seemed rather excited for such a formal man. “Indeed!” He pulled his chair closer to the desk as he beamed. “We have just reached an agreement with Alerar’s GATE!”

This gave Ashla more questions than answers. “Gate?”

Turawyn spoke again, leaning on her arm. “Oh, you know. The organization working to make the world a bit better since the volcanoes and comets and stuff.”

“Meteor.” Kalasanwe corrected her.

“Whatever.” Turawyn started to play with her nails.

Kalasanwe turned his attention back to Ashla. “Yes, that GATE. Well…”

Kalasanwe leaned forward, hands on the desk in barely contained excitement. “… They allowed us the option to send one convict and a specialized guardian to their city as cadets.” On the emphasis on ‘one,’ the psychologist raised his pointer finger.

Ashla felt her excitement grow. Maybe this was it! Maybe now was the time to finally get out and do something! Then, her thoughts held her back. She realized she was a stranger in Alerar, someone with filthy high elf blood. She shrank as she realized what going to a place like that would do to her. Bad reputation, treated like dirt. That, on top of the fact that she was a prisoner, a criminal. Indeed, Ashla loathed being treated like she was insignificant….

Kalasanwe ignored her display of insecurity – he always noticed, but did not always point it out – and continued to speak. “I thought you would be the perfect candidate, Icebreaker.”

Turawyn looked up from her vanities, “And I’m the guard, by the way.”

Ashla’s face darted from the two dark elves directions. “Do I have any say in this?”

Turawyn shrugged. Kalasanwe slouched a bit, his smile fading. “Beggars cannot be choosers, Icebreaker. If you want redemption, you will take any opportunity thrown at you.”

Ashla sat straighter up, turning red. Of course she wanted redemption! Was this the only way, however? Surrounded by scoffers and oh so superior dark elves? “Do you know what those people would say about me?! Do to me!?”

Turawyn placed a hand on her chin, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Ashla glared at Turawyn with defiance. “I do not need your protection!” Her hands gripped the arms of her seat, “I can defend myself!”

“-Icebreaker-” Kalasanwe tried and failed to cool the girl off.

“You cannot make me go!” Ashla bolted up from her seat. “You cannot make me!”

Kalasanwe’s eyes narrowed again. He sat icily still. “Sit down, Ayleth.”

Icebreaker glared at Kalasanwe with hatred. “You keep me stuck here! Then you decide to send me off to-”

Turawyn was serious now, face tightened in a deep seriousness. She slid off the desk. “Don’t make me use the collar.”

Ayleth turned to her, taking a step forth. Her voice cracked. “Use it! I can take it!”

Turawyn reached into her pocket, but before she could use the device inside - “Turawyn, no.”

Kalasanwe looked at her with a calm expression, relaxed posture. “Ashla will take control of herself again.”

Ayleth looked back at Kalasanwe, fists tightened. “Ashla is weak!”

The doctor rose from his seat, towering above the women in the roof. He stepped to the side of his desk with an elegant stride. “Ashla,” Step by step, he drew closer to the mud elf. “Fight yourself. Win.”