Charbi

While unification swirled the desert sands of Korvassa, the Bedouin tribes could not be quelled. In fact, there is legend of one such tribe of women riders that pushed invading forces back into their cities: the Nojoom tribe, named for their stellar beauty, their ferocity, and their ability to navigate the desert by starlight. None were more breathtaking, fierce, or dedicated to her people than Nisreen bint Nojoom (the daughter of the stars.) She led her sisters in the ebb and flow of seasons, of desert suns, through trading caravans, and raids. Though unusual for a tribe to be matriarchal, the Qalasheen generally tolerated the Nojoom as they made loyal allies, brave warriors, mystic healers, and helped their own women with their knowledge of birth and herbs. That is, until Nisreen noticed a rather handsome Karamanoğullari soldier during a scouting mission. His hair was the golden red of granite rock, his eyes the storm of the sea. His smile, however, it was his smile that stole her breath. They met in secret for many months until one sweltering night, under a blanket of stars and the moon that also seemed so ripe, Nisreen birthed their daughter, took one look at her bright hair that looked so much like her father’s, and named her the Türkin word for the celestial body that watch her enter the world: Aylin--moon halo, belonging to the moon. She was to one day be Aylin, the Moon Halo and Daughter of the Stars. Nisreen’s sisters were worried not because she had taken an Karamanoğullari lover, they often lay with men from other tribes to father their children, but for their safety as the neighboring tribes may not look favourably on Nisreen’s union with an outsider as Mehmet, her lover, was also a Heartlander. For Aylin’s safety, they kept that fact a secret. Years pass and Aylin blossoms. She learns the secrets of astral navigation, of herb collection and their properties, the bond one forms with their horse. She learns the way of shadows, of striking from them, and the intricate dance of the scimitar. Aylin assists in the births of babies of many different species and finds that the healing arts absolutely fascinate her. Sadly, even in moonlight there is shadow. Aylin had apparently caught the eye of a young Hashem of a neighbouring tribe. She didn’t have time for idle fancies as her mother, Nisreen, had kept her quite busy with her studies. This didn’t deter Hashem, however. The more he sought Aylin, the more her cousin, Layla, let the darkness take her over. She seethed with his every attempt at courtship until one day, she cornered him and blurted out: “you know she’s the bastard daughter of an Orenian soldier, right?” Layla didn’t mean for the fires to begin. She didn’t mean for the overwhelming numbers of tribesmen to take up arms against her family, her Nojoom. Tribal law was far too complicated for either of the cousins to fully understand, but truly, seeds of jealousy and opportunity had been planted elsewhere: the tribal leaders were simply waiting for an opportunity for a casus belli. Aylin was it. Aylin was shaken roughly awake by Nisreen, who held a bloodied scimitar in hand, and was told to ride fast to Al-Faiz and ask for Mehmet Deveney, her father. The chieftainess’ daughter was told not to look back and not to stop until she reached her destination. To this day, Aylin will not speak of that night and at times will wake screaming with the stench of smoke and blood memorized in her nostrils. With the Nojoom tribe disbanded, Aylin had no choice but to follow her father to the Sultanate, finding out that he was of mixed blood himself: of Karamanoğullari and Orenian upper merchant class. Unsure of how to raise this wild bedouin child, he sent her to his sister in Providence who immediately made sure the wild gossip circles knew nothing of this child and vice versa. Aylin was a hard worker and an avid learner. She learned Common and High Imperial, even if she did still retain a slight accent, she learned the complex court dances, how to run a household, found she was terrible at the piano, but could carry a tune. By all outward appearances, Aylin was a reformed Heartlander woman and niece of the Mrs. Harriet Deveney, though everything Aylin knew of the outside world was read in books. It wasn’t until Mrs. Deveney promised Aylin to Mr. Tarrant did the veneer of perfect ward crack. Apparently Mr. Tarrant had been smitten with her, like Hashem before him. She wanted nothing to do with this. With the little money she had (and some more she borrowed from her aunt) she put everything she had learned from both her aunt and mother to the test stowed away on a ship bound for the Sutica where she now hopes to explore this vast new world before her, perhaps open a small apothecary or apprentice under a doctor or midwife, learn the all about new animals, herbs, and perhaps look up at her patron celestial body and bring back the spirits of the Nojoom once more.