A Halan Witch in Hazlan: Nashira Iltazyara

[ladylena]

My name is Nashira Iltazyara. I am a Rashemi witch of Hala. I was once a free woman, but that, like everything in life, can change in an instant.

A long time ago, when I was a little girl, my family suffered a tragedy. The Inquisition had learned that my mother and father were both practising magic. They were forewarned and so they sent me to live with my aunt. She helped me through the tragedy and as I grew, I began to feel a calling to something. My aunt spoke to me and I asked her to teach me about Hala, it felt right to learn.

My aunt always insisted that before I seek to learn more, I know myself first. It makes sense to me. How can we learn to help others if we do not know ourselves? She is a great teacher and a wonderful witch. She helped anyone who came to her and her understanding of the weave is something I hope to one day achieve.

For now, I must accept the consequences of my actions. I left my aunts safety and travelled around Hazlan, wanting to see more of my homeland, to understand the extent of the suffering. Seeing how awful it was hurt. I secluded myself in a quiet grove in the woods. I was certain I had been alone. I spoke a prayer to Hala but it was interrupted by a quiet cackle. I paled in terror when I turned and saw a red wizard having watched and listened to me.

That moment I was certain I was going to die.

[ladylena]

I do not pretend to be brave. There are many things that I fear. Fear and paranoia have played an important role in my life and getting to where I am now. But back to the fears, because of my faith, I am always worried about being discovered. The fact that one already knows is bad enough, but he keeps me safe from one of my other fears: the church of the lawgiver. That is one thing that haunts my dreams.

Being a slave to a Red Wizard carries its own terrors. If I make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, I could end up being one of their test subjects. Now as odd as it may sound for someone like me to fear this, I am afraid of beetles. How they fly is just unsettling. More so, small confined spaces.

Even just thinking of it makes me shake, much like heights. By Hala, the higher the worse I get.

[ladylena]

Being a slave means I am not supposed to refuse an order. I came very close to doing it. He handed me a scroll, he couldn't read it, but I could make sense of it. "Create Greater Undead". I was to follow the scroll and perform the right over this scorched mummy. My heart was pounding as I looked at the corpse of the creature. Every ounce of my being said not to do it, and thank Hala that he decided the corpse was too decayed.

I could barely contain the relief that washed over me when he took that wicked scroll away. I could of danced in joy right there in front of the academy's slaves. Those poor people. Knowing what they are to endure, at the hands of wizards. My aunt told me that hags twisted the weave but I feel these wizards do the same.

I could flee the country. It would not last long, I'd be tracked down and recovered. Or worse, he could tell the church that I am a Witch. He has that over me and it is my mistake that allowed it. In the privacy of his home, and when he commands me to, I will use the weave to heal and ease the suffering of his slaves and servants and even himself. As long as I do as I am told, he will protect me.