Friday, April 9, 2010

Nasira was born in 1628 of her father Abdul Musa and mother Nafiza. They lived in their ancestral home at a town named Shah Juy, in Zabulistan. Nasira took after her father as he was a man of action, a rat catcher by trade. Quick movements and athletics defined them both. Life was very simple, yet as much as Nasira loved her father, she couldn’t help but wish for more.
Sadly Abdul died of plague when Nasira was only 13. Nasira was crushed by this loss and withdrew, locking herself away from the world - and potential suitors. She dove into books. She felt that if only her father had gained an education, he would not have had to work so hard and weaken himself. Shah Juy offered her little, she knew, and the thought of a stagnant life terrified her. She would have to work hard to make something of herself, something her father would have been proud of.
Her educational efforts started well as she had access to books detailing the history of the Mughal and Safavid Empires. History was her first love. Her mother did all she could to further her only child’s efforts, making arrangements to have books brought to her. After the history books came the brilliant works of the Islamic philosophers and commentators on Sharia law. Nasira learned about logic and rationalism as well as her faith. She embraced these and more esoteric concepts vigorously.
When she was 16 her mother died, lungs filled with fluid. It seemed that the house was cursed, a place of illness that even her extended family struggled with. She had to get out and followed up on any lead that would take her away. Such was the sharpness of her mind that she didn’t have to wait long.
A curious trader, one that had been bringing books to Nasira’s family for the last few years, came to see who had such interest in learning. He met with Narisa and her family and found her to be brilliant. He agreed to bring her to Qandahar where she might be taught and refined by a master. The family was only too happy for Nasira who fearfully took the step that her father never took.
Indeed upon arrival in Qandahar she began training in the magical arts, and showed great promise. The complexity and concentration issues were handled as if they were her second nature. Before long she was casting her first cantrips. She felt victorious, and thirsted for more.
Outside of school Nasira fell in love with the big city and big city life. While never a drinker (always looking for halal alternatives) she developed friendships and was introduced to the water pipe. Socialization allowed her to explore relationships and she surprised herself by being comfortable in a mixed crowd. She enjoyed these times but didn’t get out much as her studies increased. Her focus remained on the work and it energized her becoming her passion. Life, she knew, was short. She had a gift and knew that she had to run with it. The potential was limitless. Indeed, perhaps death itself wasn’t insurmountable.
Years later, Narisa’s work was recognized and she gained the title of Prestidigitator. Her first goal was to travel, to get out and experience the thought, culture and life in other regions. She hoped to go as far as Greece, the birthplace of logical thought. It seemed that the farther she got from home, the happier she was. Behind her was poverty, sickness and death. Ahead of her, the vista seemes unending.

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