Memories of Myan-myan

On the day that he was born, the first words he heard were not "It's a boy!" shouted joyously.1

On the day that he was born, the first words Myan-myan the dark elf infant heard were, "Oh, it's just a male," sneered contemptuously.2

Myan-myan never met his mother, in fact, for the longest time, he believed what the Mistresses of the House told him he'd popped up out of some cow dung one day, and they couldn't make him leave.  After awhile, he learned how babies were made by watching the cows.  And sighed.3

It was becoming obvious someone didn't like him.4

He persevered though, and became what the ladies called "an outstanding slave."  The boy was once given the honor of sweeping out the outer Chapel of the Lady of Shadows' church.  Even then, as the ceremony concluded for the commoners, a male soldier beat Myan-myan for even being in the outer chapel, slave-scum that he was.  5

All the slaves hated him.  But Myan-myan could only be described as meek, so when they would beat him, he only fell down and took his beating dumbly.6

Then he met Nym, who was fond of him the instant she laid eyes on him.  She purchased him from the local slave auction house, and from that moment, in more than just body, Nym owned Myan-myan.7

She always tried to convince him to do her will voluntarily, as if that would somehow magically make the task better.  One day, he had had to discuss that with her.8

"Nym?" he asked.  Long ago she had given him permission to address her by her real name.9

"Yes, Myan-myan?"10

"Why do you only say to do somethin', but only if I wanna?"11

"Because you are a person, of course.  Only slaves are ordered." she replied promptly.12

"Nym, I was born a slave, an' have always been a slave, an' always will be a slave, an' will die a slave.  You canna change that."13

"But I bought you!" she protested.14

"Exactly right.  The word I'm lookin/ at here is 'bought', Nym.  Do ya buy people?"15

"Wellll.....no." she admitted.16

"An' do ya order ya friends aroun' an' make 'em do stuff they don't wanna do?"17

"I...oh.  Myan-myan, sometimes you're so dull you're brilliant."18

"I'm not brilliant, just a slave."19

"I love you, you know."20

"I know."21

"That makes you a person." she said defiantly.22

Myan-myan sighed.  Nym had a very round-a-bout way of saying she was right.  He tried, as a rule, to not argue with his beloved mistress, seeing as she was his Goddess here, when all there was was the Lady of Spiders.  Only it was unavoidable this time.23

"Do not.  It makes me somethin', bein' as you can love a table or a pillow, OR a person.  Jus' 'cause there's love don't make me real like you.  But since you love me, I gotta be somethin', 'cause you can't love nothin', but I probably ain't a person.  A slave is more like a towel, ya can use it as long as it's new an' dry, but when it's old and wet, even if ya love it it'll go out to the garbage, jus' the same.  Even if it's ya favorite towel."24

They walked along in silence.25

Later that day, after the Games, Nym buried the body of Myan-myan in the dark earth, crying.26

"He was real, he was!" she shouted into the echoing darkness.27

"He was a person, he was!"28

But the sun shines on, whether or not you think its real, and the people you don't know live, even if you, or they, can't see it.29