Servant

A Story by Rashid

Nothing Special, just something that came to me.

"Paşam, where are we headed?", I humbly ask with sweat slowly dripping from my forehead. His beautiful pose strikes me as I wipe my sweat. At the peak of the hill, with sun hitting against it, all I see is his silhouette. The decorated red arkhalig seemingly vanished into a black dress and whatever curve that he had over his clothing. And yet, out of all men's silhouettes, I wouldn't dare not to recognize his. That's how I was taught, that's how he wanted me to be. While I was never bothered to ask, people of my position usually wouldn't even get the chance to.
For them I was privileged. Whilst our paşas would meet, we would sit in front of the stable, in a semi-circle, where I would tell my stories with my owner, and they would listen keenly, wowing at some points or state my luck. To them my paşa, was the best out of all, though I myself knew his darkness. I was a pawn in his hands, a toy to play with until he was bored. Unfortunately for me, he would never get bored.
He did not answer, so I just took another step to be next to him, but not quite beside him. From where we stood, the realm seemed as beautiful as ever, it took to me a few minutes to salute the wonders of my life. And as my interest started to dissipate, he took me on a ride across the view. "Look at the left, at the green hill which just let the sun go, and now to the right, at the green hill that is still waiting for its turn. And in between, the river ever-flowing with the rocks forever stuck in the battle against the river that they shall never win." The way he put it at first glance didn't seem any more breathtaking than what a blind eye would observe, but disappointing him was a virtue I did not possess. So I took another look across the land, finally I said in a soft tone, "So this is it then." He turned towards me, with a seemingly innocent smile, then he starting walking again, with his words of "Not yet, come" following after him. While I never had much love for the nature, I took his word for it, and accompanied him. We moved through the hills that juggles the sun between them, across the river that, although was quite small, still had ambition of the notorious Kür.
After a while of walking, he stopped again, which meant that we reached it. All the weight of his clothing and pride never seemed to make him tired as he naturally swept through the land like he was gliding across it.
In front of us was the field poppies, with the sun now right above us. As the slight breeze wave ran along the field it soon enough hit us too, and as opened my eyes back, I felt like a kid again. In a field full of the beautiful but sad flowers, with sun feeding me energy constantly, I went back to the moment where I can find myself being happy. The daydream ended rather quickly and my snap-back-to-reality seemed obvious, but this time I did not need his push to admire the wonder in front of me. With an unintentional beam across my face, I declared, "This is it!" He took one last look at the field, then chuckled, saying what I was afraid of, "No, not yet." And we were back, walking yet again, but this time the path was much simpler, and filled with content compared to the bumpy ride of the last part. Soon enough, the field ended, and I came to realize that what we were approaching was another hill, but this time the green of the hill did not come from the grass, this time, the hill had a forest. I hated forests, and I hoped that he knew. The bleak tall trees that might be loved by someone, but were boring to me as much as the earth is to the sun. And then there is the leaf-filled soil that has an even more boring color. With each step we got closer to the hill, and with each step I prayed that he would deviate us from this path, yet we didn't seem to stop. At this point I starting to try to accept the fate of the day while he carelessly moved forwards. And there we were, in front of the hill, about to step into the forest. Where he stopped, looked at me. My world seemed to flip on its head. That is, until he asked if I was okay, with semi-worrying look, though all I saw was the indifferent expression of the man in charge of me. I knew it was all just to tease me one last time before we went into my demise. I acted as if I was thinking, wandered into the distance, then turned back to him, and said "Of course." with a defeated voice that made my bones shiver in disappointment, for I have, yet again, not stood up against him, stuck in a forever motion of kneeling before him. He proclaimed "Good." and stepped into the forest, knowing that he had full control over me. As we moved upwards through the trees and the untrustworthy soil, I started to be lost in my own thoughts.

"Everyone gather, today we lose another young soul." As I stood in front of a large piece of wood, that had blood stains over it. And before I could realize everyone was around the stand, some cheering, some impatiently waiting for me to lose what I hold most precious. As I try to not panic, I get hit with enough kick to my legs to make me fall on my knees, and a force strong enough to hold my head against the wood that once they take the force away, I already have given up on attempting to change what is soon to happen. With my cheek against the wood, I try to struggle as much as I can, in the vain hope of making people believe I went down with a fight.

Suddenly I hear the flow of water, as I look in front, I see that we are approaching a part of the hill without any trees, with a spring water flowing in the middle, from the ground, into the ground. He approaches the water and drinks from it. With the loss of my hope, I silently murmur, if this is it? He sits down, and says "Drink, we have a very long way to go, and I will need you with me." What a line that would be for any young servant, a declaration of need and hope and a test of one's loyalty. But I could not fall for a lie hidden within the beauty. Because I knew the difference between the beauty of the hills and the beauty of the poppy fields. He could never fool me, I was nothing but a slave for him.

Last thing I heard was the slash of the ax.

© 2022 Rashid

Author's Note

if any grammar problems, I wouldn't like if you could point them out. The story and plot is pretty much nothing, so if that is an issue, know that I already am aware of it.

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Reviews

Will you be surprised that a non-Turkish has read your Turkish words correctly like Paşam is Pasham? Haha I just know the alphabets and to read and write Turkish but not learned properly at all. But what if it's not Turkish but Iranian? Please pardon me then!
To the story, ancient, arabic, giving me the Egyptian slavery age's vibes when Pharaohs used to rule. A servant owns nothing, not even his flesh and bones in the world. They keep working until they start to decay and that's the hint of how cruel their master is. I was having a great time read while reading about the journey also a bit terrified at the end. Perhaps that's the way you could portray this story as the best.
Am not a scholar in grammer so no judgement passing. I have to say that no visible mistakes were caught though. Good write, Rashid :)