Wyrdsister666

She was far too young to remember the migration as anything but a blur of chaotic, whirling anxiety and uncertain voices whispering in the night, firelight playing shapes across the cloth of the tent. When she grew older, however, she grew aware that the older children often had fathers.

Only her mother and sister survived, it seems. Fatima was of the Ihram, an obscure and isolated tribe, even by Qalasheen standards, and the journey to Arcas was harsh and fraught with heartache and misfortune. She grew up knowing only her family as a home, and seems to carry a sort of nervous restlessness if staying in one place for too long – as a girl her only friends were books and a single sibling, her older sister Sayyida, with whom she frequently expressed their deep bond by tormenting each other and fighting at every opportunity. When they weren’t fighting, they were scheming – plotting pranks and heists, explorations and adventures. Her mother had her hands full.

Faith was always in her blood, it seemed – a general wonder at the world, a gratefulness for life. She remains a deeply religious woman – though with her own mystical, esoteric flair. Her mother taught her faith, and books taught her about the world. Precious and few, her mother would surprise her with a new one on special occasions, and Fatima knew just how much they cost in a life of itinerate drifting and little coin. They were peddlers, at times worthy of being called merchants. At other times they were pilgrims – her mother loathed the term ‘beggar’ and would not except handouts, only alms – or simply wanderers, willing to do whatever work put food in their stomachs and gave them somewhere safe to rest.

Then the wars came, distant citadels with distant nobles vying for power, and wrecking havoc across the land in the wake of their ambitions. In times of unrest and uncertainty, it is often easier to find someone else to blame, someone present and visible. It helps if they are an outsider, who you don’t understand. Fatima’s mother was murdered by a band of butchers, and she and her sister Sayyida fled into the wilderness for a time, staying alive by stealing. Sayyida changed. She took on something of her mother’s strength, and did things... Fatima isn’t sure how to feel about. All she knew is that her sister did them to protect her. They survived – and as things got easier, they grew older, into women, and in time parted.

Sayyida had found a good man, and wished to settle down and join his tribe, leaving her past behind her. Fatima wasn’t... ready for a new family. She said her goodbyes with her beloved sister, and promised to keep in touch – and then was left alone and uncertain. For the first time in her life she had no responsibilities, but no direction. A talented, bright and experienced young woman, she has never held a stable employment or known anyone outside of her own people. Eventually, tired of ruminating and worrying, she did what she knew best.

She put her feet on the road and began to wander, letting the Creator guide her path.