~~~

"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."