DAY : 04 (pt. 1)

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                                       —(Wadi Desert, Kroos 1581)

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(Wadi Desert, Kroos 1581)

"AMYA, DO YOU KNOW WHERE MY MOTHER WENT?"

Azade sat perched on a stack of wool, playing with a wooden doll; watching another slave. She always had a fascination with Amya's work; spending her days refining wool in the master's shed.

"Stay here child, your Mother will return soon."

Nodding, Azade tugged on the straw hair of the wooden doll. She had found the toy this morning, simply lying in plain sight. She'd never had something so lovely, grasped in her muddied hands.

"Put that away, Azade. Don't let anyone see you with it." Amya warned, pointing at the doll. Azade knew she wasn't allowed to have nice things and the Master would simply rage if he saw her with it.

"Okay."

Hiding the doll under the stack of wool, she continued to watch as Amya picked up the wool and spun it into oblivion. Out of the her tiny woodwork, it would come out new and beautiful. A fresh and warm cloth.

Yet to create such beauty, it seemed that Amya's hands would have to suffer. Red calluses and blisters seemed to cover the middle-aged woman's hands; thirty years of labour taking its toll. Azade looked at her own hands, being only eight years old, they were still clean and soft. No calluses in sight.

She wondered how long it would last.

"Has master let you work in the barn yet?" Amya asked, breath slightly tampered from her effort to coil the handle of the woodwork.

"No, Mama said that in two summers he'd let me start helping her in the barn."

"Be glad child, most aren't as lucky as you."

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