Cheregh told me today that there is nothing more he can teach me. He says my grasp of the language is enough that his lessons would prove fruitless. I think this is the first compliment I have ever received from him. Verbally at least. I can see it in his face sometimes, that he is proud of my writing accomplishments, but I think it just isn’t in him to say anything aloud.
Perhaps I will be a teacher when I am older. If it can calm one like Cheregh, surely I could get some joy out of it. He has seemed less cruel since I expressed an interest in his tutelage. The beatings are less frequent, and he almost seems to avoid my hands, so as not to impair them from practice. Whenever I am not working he has me at the paper, practicing, so my script will be more fluent, he says. I wonder at his true motives for this, and may he never find this journal, but perhaps he actually favors to set me free some day.
I am told that we are nearing Quan, the evil Kang Empire which has enslaved my people. Gunter tells me awful stories of what they will do to me when I am sold there. His tales cause me great anxiety. I am no stranger to slavery, but compared to what I have endured, this land sounds like a nightmare for me. The only comfort I can take in arriving at our destination comes from my tutor. He says there will be much for me to learn from my ancestors.