Aydin was taken away to a different part of the compound that felt never ending now that Aydin was walking inside.
"Aydin, huh? Welcome. We're like family here, all of us, so feel free and treat everybody kindly." The middle aged man said. He had a slim build and despite his age, Aydin could see quite the number of wrinkles on his face.
"That's where you'll wash yourself. I'll prepare some clothes for you and place them on the empty create where you can reach them. Go on." The man said, ushering Aydin towards the bath house.
'They even get to take their baths and have a bath house…' Aydin thought to himself. Somehow, he had reasoned that this wouldn't be the case, but it seemed he was wrong.
Once he was done with his bath, Aydin found a set of clothes placed just outside, exactly as he had been told. It was a simple trouser and long sleeved shirt, both bright ash in colour.
'It's simple, but even I can tell that the quality certainly is different. Is this servant work not the same as the slavery I have experienced?'
Once he was done dressing up, he waited around to see if the man would come back because he didn't want to go walking around a strange environment. Luckily for him, the man did return and brought him to another place that was specified as the general dining room for the servants, which was also close to the kitchen used by the servants.
There, in the midst of many, Aydin was introduced as a new servant. Here, he learnt that he was going to undergo training for a while to understand his duties and such, and he was then introduced especially to the other children.
Looking at the children, everyone could spot the obvious difference. While the other children had a neutral, olive, or warm tone to their skin, Aydin stood out quite distinctively because he was white and pale looking, but even then, he's skin wasn't dry or cracking and still looked healthy.
Even though he was yet to notice it, his black hair was unlike most, as it looked rich but thin at the same time, almost looking silky as it scattered all over his head.
"Is he a ghost?" One of the children asked.
"Don't say that! Come one, everyone, come get your plate of food!" A woman said from behind.
Well, even though Aydin was yet to realise it, his eyes did look kind of tired and he had natural eyeliners beneath his eyes like dark shades from not sleeping enough, but the skin there was not at all saggy.
Once everybody had gotten their food, including Aydin, the adults remained in the dining room and used the dining table and areas around while the children all went outside. Right in the middle of the kitchen, rooms and store, there was a big enough field with hard ground, one that wouldn't raise dust easily. The children didn't stay in the middle of course, they sat on the corridors in cliques and ate. They weren't a lot of them, maybe 15 or so, all within the ages of 10 and 13.
'I really don't know how old I am, but I look quite young, so I'll just go with 10.' Aydin thought to himself as he ate. He also noticed the rather jovial atmosphere around. Whether this was how it always was, he couldn't say for sure.
The following day, Aydin was introduced to his duties. His tasks were grueling for his frail body, which included hauling firewood, scrubbing the stone floors of the main hall, and cleaning the stables. Each task felt like a punishment, his muscles screaming in protest as he dragged heavy loads and endured the overseer's constant barking.
The other servants, weary from years of toil, regarded Aydin with suspicion. They whispered about his soft hands, his pale skin, and his quiet demeanor. He worked in silence, speaking only when addressed, his mind consumed by fragmented memories and the nagging sense that he was meant for something more than servitude.
At night, he lay on the straw mat, his body aching from the day's labor. His dreams were vivid but nonsensical, visions of towering serpents, endless skies, and a voice that whispered to him in a language he couldn't understand. He often woke with the same unanswered question echoing in his mind 'Who am I?'
…
One evening, as Aydin carried a bundle of firewood toward the main hall, he overheard a conversation between two guards.
"They say the shamans in the north can see the spirit animals of men," one guard muttered. "Reckon they'd find a rat in you, hahahahaha."
The other guard laughed, a low, mocking sound. "Better than a worm, hehehe… But what does it matter? Only nobles and warriors care about such things, only them can afford it. Spirit animals don't put food on a servant's table."
Aydin paused, his curiosity piqued. Spirit animals? The term stirred something deep within him, though he couldn't place why. Suddenly, he thought of the dream he had some days ago, but it was not the time. He tucked the thought away, resolving to learn more when the opportunity arose.
…
As the days turned to weeks and eventually months, Aydin's body adjusted to the labor. His wiry frame grew stronger, his grip firmer, though his appearance remained strangely out of place. The other servants whispered about his unnatural endurance, his ability to lift heavy loads without faltering. Yet, they also noticed his silence, his tendency to keep to himself, and the strange intensity in his dark eyes. Not to mention his unnatural strength, his handsome face was unfitting of a slave's.
One evening, as the moon rose over the dim skies, Aydin stood by the servant quarters, gazing at the nearby mountain behind the estate. The weight of his chains was undeniable, but so was the spark of something deeper, a defiant ember that refused to be extinguished.
For the first time since awakening in the caravan, Aydin felt a sliver of resolve. Whatever mysteries surrounded him, whatever fate awaited, he would endure. He would survive. And someday, he would uncover the truth and also free himself from his captivity.