A story not often told
Chapter 1: A child unwanted
He sat in the corner of the cold room. The door stood across from him. It was much warmer on the other side of the door. He'd already tried to open it. It was locked. He could try to knock it down, but he was too weak to do such. He was beaten a few times before being locked in the room. He stared at it, knowing eventually a familiar face would enter in a poor temper.
The door clicked, the lock being lifted. The youngling pushed himself further into the corner. He didn't want the bot to enter. He was afraid. The door swung open. An angry looking bot stood in the doorway. The youngling closed his optics tight, hoping the other would not see him.
"Get up you unfortunate child!" ordered the bot.
The youngling struggled to get up. He found no point in get up when the other bot knocked him right back over. The youngling hit the ground hard, the other bot hovering over him. The youngling looked up wearily.
"You little runt! You good for nothing youngling!" snapped the bot.
"I'm trying though! I'm trying!" gasped the youngling.
"Shut up! You were supposed to be at school cycles ago!" yelled the bot.
"I was locked in…you're the one who locked the door! I couldn't…"
"You couldn't what? You couldn't do anything? You're useless! Now get to your studies before I finally grow tired of you," huffed the bot.
The youngling slowly got to his feet and moved out of the room. He moved slowly down the halls. They were warm. He enjoyed that. They were bright. He liked that too. He left the building he kept believing was his home. He picked up his pace. He ran to the building down the road. A school building.
"Hello?" the youngling whispered, opening the door to the class room.
"Oh, I thought you wouldn't make it," the femme bot by the board purred.
"I…I was kept," the youngling mumbled.
"Don't tell me he locked you in again…" hummed the femme bot.
"Don't worry. He…he only hates it when I do nothing…" the youngling whispered.
"Come here, we'll start our lesson now," the femme nodded.
"Ms. Redmoon…" mumbled the youngling.
"What?" asked the femme teacher.
"Why do you insist of trying to teach me…little no name," sighed the youngling.
"He hasn't given you a name yet!?" gasped Redmoon.
"It's okay. Will you answer my question?" asked the youngling.
"You're really…bright. You have a great thought processor if you'd use it. You've learned so much. You've learned and could use it if that nasty guardian of yours didn't lock you up…" explained Redmoon.
"To…the lesson now," offered the youngling.
"Not until you have a name," smiled Redmoon.
"Really?" gasped the youngling.
"Sure…now I have a question also. What do you want to be with the knowledge you've gained?" Redmoon asked.
"A scientist of course!" cheered the youngling.
"Hmmm…" hummed the teacher.
"Did you know that the word Preceptor means teacher or rather a medicine specialist sometimes?" questioned the youngling.
"Perceptor…perfect!" nodded Redmoon.
"Huh?" gasped the youngling.
"From here on out, you'll be Perceptor," smiled Redmoon.
"I guess…I mean it sounds perfect for a youngling who wants to become a scientist," nodded the youngling, pondering his new name.
"Now to the lesson…Perceptor," smiled Redmoon.