Shiīnkā

Master

Hi guys! So this is kinda short, but it goes through a lot. I haven't had a lot of time to write lately, but I did want to update something XD. So here you go!

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Shiīnkā was given a new name before he arrived. Edward. He arrived at the man's home. That man was not there to greet him. That man had better things to do. Instead the overseer greeted him. With a sickening grin and a whip in his hands. He saw the boy's tears and that was when Shinka, now Edward, received his first punishment.

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As he got used to the place, the other slaves took him under their wing, one in particular. Ana Jo he called her. He still missed his real Ana, wanted to see her again. But for now Ana Jo was all he had.

He worked hard, trying to make himself worth something. He never thought he could be. The overseer proved that. When he first came to the plantation the overseer saw his tears and backhanded him, telling him:

"No tears." The man told him sternly. When he didn't stop, the man slapped him to the ground. He received his first beating that day. He'd learned not to cry. As he began to work, they set him up spinning cotton into threads to be shipped to be made into uniforms for the soldiers fighting in a civil war out east. He watched studying the movements that the others took, how they spun the cotton, then tried it himself. He knew he wasn't good at it. He spun fast and accurate. Or so he thought. The overseer, whenever inspecting his work, would tear it to shreds and tell him to start over.

The other slaves came to love him. He would finish their jobs as well as his own, he wouldn't leave until it was all done. Sometimes he'd stay awake the whole night working. It was his attempt to be useful... Worth something... That's all he wanted, to be worth something, even if just one cenz. At least that meant he was worth something.

He was fourteen when he was first called to his master's bedroom. He stared at the ground when he arrived making sure he wouldn't look in the man's eyes, that'd be a sign of disrespect. And if he made his master angry, there's no telling what the man would do to him.

"Edward." His master said though it sounded more like a accusation.

"Yes Master..?" He replied softly. He'd learned that here, if you're a slave, speak softly, listen well and you won't be punished.

"Edward.... Come here." Ed moved tentatively toward his master and the bad the man sat on.

"Do you know my name Edward?" he asked.

"Master...?" Edward guessed. The man smiled like he thought it was funny and shook his head.

"My name is Roy, Edward." He told the boy. Edward nodded. He didn't understand, why was he here? What was his master getting at?

That was how they met...

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That was how they met. Now though Edward came to his Master's room every night. Right now he laid next to the man who had his arms wrapped around Ed, nuzzling his neck. He was sixteen now and had grown used to his Master's affections. He stayed quiet, like a good slave, never objecting.

"You're so precious." He whispered one night. Precious? The word for precious in Xerexian was kiīlulaj. It was a synonym for worth. He wasn't worth anything. He wasn't Kiīlulaj... He was shiīnkā... he was worthless.

"Precious, precious, precious..." His master repeated over and over, "Do you realize that? Do you realize how precious you are?" Tears came to Edward's eyes. Was his master mocking him, shooting him down with words? He hated that he could say it sometimes, but he felt that he could, in some sense, trust this man. But he was hurting him with these words. Kiīlulaj? Esō. Eū sāuk Shiīnka. Precious? No. He was worthless... Worthless, worthless, worthless.

He hadn't realized that the tears he'd been trying to hold back had spilled until he felt Roy wipe them away.

"Why are you crying?" He asked. Edward shook his head, he wouldn't bother the man with his troubles, "Edward, tell me." Ed took a shaking breath.

"Egōtk ja Shiīnkā. Nōtk kiīlulaj. Quēt tēus mēus kiīlulaj nōmēt? Quē?!" He spoke in fast Xerexian before realizing he wasn't speaking Amestian. He looked up at Roy who looked down at him with a confused expression.

"What language was that?" He asked.

"Xerexian." Ed answered.

"You haven't spoken like that for a ling time... Could you translate what you said?"

"I am worthless, not precious. Why do you name me precious? Why?" His voice was hoarse from crying, his eyes red, "Why?" He asked softly, "I'm not precious... I'm worthless..."

Egōtk ja Shiīnkā...

Well there you have it! I have to say the most fun thing about writing this story is going to be making up my interpretation of the Xerexian language and their translations!!! I'm trying to make the syllables sound choppy, That's how I would interpret the language. So yeah. Hope you liked it and I'll try to update a longer chapter soon!