"Jibreel..." Her voice whispered in abandon, his name. His heartbeat faltered.
"My Rabb have surely created you just for me... Everything you do... Every move you make was designed to falter my heart and make me love you more!" He whispered back to...
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Assalamualaikum Wa rahmatullahi Wa barakatuhu... Hope You like this chapter. Here you go!
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Rushi was sweeping the small courtyard of her house in a small village of Tardees, when she heard it- The ring of metal. She smiled sweetly and placed the broom in her hand near the compound wall and followed the sound. It led her towards the woods and she entered it with just some fear in her heart. The sound led her to a small clearing inside. She peeked from behind the tree and watched as men and boys practiced with weapons.
The glint of the metal as it shone in the sun, the clang of the weapons as they clashed together and also the very air of danger surrounding the clearing called out to her. She sighed. Her heart had taken the first step towards being a warrior. She smiled in excitement as she watched more.
That was the moment that she had decided she wanted to be a warrior, a protector. She began to pay attention towards the men and their moves and returned everyday to watch more. It became her new addiction. Rushi was hooked to it.
At her home she began to practise on her moves with a sturdy stick and also her balance. She started to become quite good at it too. Her arm movements became coordinated and she became more swift and sure of her steps. She also had keen eyesight now as she started paying more attention to her surroundings and observing the people in general. She was ten.
Years passed and she continued that way. She made her first bow on her own with the help of wood. It was quite good too. She learned archery by her stolen lessons and observation. She became an exceptional one, when she learned how to shoot the arrows and never missed even once when she was thirteen. Her sword fighting with a stick had improved too.
The traders had begun to bring Islam to their village since some days. Her family belonged to the middle class of the society. She was the second eldest daughter of her parents and had two younger brothers and an elder sister, who was engaged to be married with a boy of their village. They were happy and satisfied but Islam brought them peace. Her parents decided to accept Islam after the family had learned about it for a long time.
At fourteen she accepted Islam along with her younger brothers who were just two mischievous and innocent souls, trying to wade through the life just like other children. Her sister had refused to accept Islam. Her parents had been saddened but accepted her decision anyways. But what they hadn't known was the fact that this would call for such a disaster in their life that they would never be able to get past it.
Rushi gasped to wakefulness and breathe deeply. Her heart constricted with grief and she tried to quench the wave and suppress her tears as the past tormented her again. She sighed. What she had lived through, she would never forget it. Her past had taught her to kill her emotions and carry on like nothing was amiss and she still followed the lesson even to this day.
She hadn't mourned her past, the loss of her life, the loss of her world and even Sidra... She had trudged on and one of these days she was going to blast and die of a broken heart. She wished for the two people who meant the world to her. One was Sidra who had taught her to trust again. The other had held her tightly when she was falling apart and pieced her pieces back together to save her...
