And so it was. I looked at your faces and all I found was contempt. Fear too. You feared what I would do to you. Understandable. I could turn you into something not human. You sensed this and I knew it.

All those years of fighting, I am now more afraid than ever. Many I loved have died and I cannot even look upon their faces as their bodies sleep while their soul´s take the journey to the very borders of the North, to guard forever the home of our masters. An honor I will not have if I die here, if I stay here.

You see me and wonder what I am. I see you and wonder what I will become. Your own have not told you yet, but you sense it somehow. You fear them as well, but you fear to loose them forever more than what they may do to you. The trust I had hoped to gain at the beginning was spoiled before I begun. I look to my right and you have bound her. That is what you call her, you call me that as well. I do not trust you with my name, I fear what may become of it in your care. Her name I trust to no one either.

The others understand. They have changed. They fight for me. It is a battle already lost. I have proven myself to you many times. I have done your "tests", endured your examining of my head, my mind and my body. I have shed more blood in containers than in any war I have fought. The others keep secrets from you. They hide. They lie. They are silent as well.

You have tried to turn them against me. Have tried to turn me against them. You have even threatened me. Empty. You know not the stubborness of my people, but I know the lack of patience of yours. I am only here because I do not wish to do you any wrong and because of them...they cannot go back with me, but they want to.

My life. My people´s life seems free to them. They do not know what it is like to forget your past, to not be allowed to know yourself. We are denied that pleasure since we are taken from our families. I do not even know my real name, the one my mother whispered to me. I do not even know if I have a mother.

There are rules too. You must stand when your master eats. You must obey his every wish and command. My master was kind to me. He made me stand in the rain for three days with nothing but a light cloak on. I almost died. My master was kind, he never made me stand in the snow, or in the sun. I have had to bury many of my people, and not all of them because they were killed in battle. This they did not see. They did not see the harshness of our lives. They have not seen the scars on all our bodies, they have not smelt our blood on their clothes for weeks at a time because you cannot afford to wash it off, because you are being hunted.

All is not tragedy. However much we suffer, we also celebrate Life. That they saw. They were seduced by it. After being in your humble care I understand them better. You watch them too. You have taken their freedom. They pace in their rooms, they have broken the beds and the walls. They refuse to talk, and you have reached the end of your patience.

I wish to trust you. The others trust you, no matter how harshly you treat them. In their hearts they know this to be true, even if they deny it. I find it hard to do what I wish. Always surrounded by people. More humans. Some of them I know I cannot trust. You insist on the man who insists on me looking at stains on paper. He believes he knows me. He believes I am "a primitive". You do not believe him but know not what else to do. There is the other one. The woman. The healer. I respect her. She cares nothing for me. I believe it to be pride. To her I am a child, I look like one. I have lived more than anyone near me. I would be dying were I human and looked my true age. You call me "child", "girl"...I am neither.

Today. I count seven of my days since I arrived. I can no longer sleep. I have been awake for four of my days. I pace constantly. You do not feed any of us enough and do not allow us to move. Our people need to feed, and we need to move. Otherwise we die. Another discomfort of being Padeos. As a result, I do not sleep. The others do the same. We are never together but can comunicate in a way you cannot guess. When we talk deep into your nights, all your equipment fails. Our minds are strong. Mine above them all, but the others are learning to control themselves. Already they can move faster, they can see farther, they can use their minds for things they never dreamed possible. But we do not sleep. We cannot. I tell you it will not kill us, but help us. You wish to believe me. You still doubt.

Today. The others have said nothing. You have guessed well enough.

My master calls. He is restless as well.

You look at me once again.

My master wishes for no more negotiations. I do not wish to offer what I can. I am afraid. I have been betrayed before.

You know I have something to say.

I will not speak. Not without the others. Not with anyone I do not trust in the room.

If I may not speak to you frankly, I will do it in another fashion.

Tomorrow. You will dream. You will be tired, you will feel sick. You will understand me and the others.

I should not show you all. I am not their keeper! They must tell you the truth. I tell you this. I show you this.

Tomorrow is now Today. You look pale. Worried. You doubt your dreams. I look at you.

I send them to you. I wish to trust you. Please listen.

You close your mind. I cannot break my oaths. I cannot see your mind. When you sleep you are not in control, so I am not completely breaking my oaths. They may still be mended.

Another Tomorrow, another Today. I have reached the healer as well.

You may dislike me but you care about them. You will kill them if you do not set them free. They will not flee, they will do as they must.

She turns her eyes away, but does not close her mind. I have reached her. The next morning I see the corridor again. It has not changed. It does not improve my mood.

I wish to trust you. Please...

The others tell you I am right. They know what I am doing. They insist they will never tell you what happened, but have agreed to help you trust me. They speak more openly to you. Your heart no longer doubts, but the soldier cannot, unless it is very clear.

The path between the warrior and the heart should not be so hidden, nor so difficult to tread.

Part of you heeds me. I wait. Three more of my days. On the fourth, you open the door. You. The healer. You close the door.

"All right...I´m listening", you say.