"When I returned from the watchtower, my mentor told me,
'Granddaughter, I understand the emptiness and restlessness you've felt all your life.
'I know why, growing up in Egypt, you learned to belly dance and cook, and all the things that would make you a good wife, but then fled to America rather than become a good wife.
'I know why, when you had no marketable skills but your beauty, you danced and turned tricks. I know where you found the strength to stay away from the drugs, and why you trusted the instincts not to marry the men who promised to take care of you and take you away. I know why, even when you felt demeaned, you continued to walk the hard road, cling to your independence, and dream, not of freedom, but of calling to serve a higher master.
'You saved 'til you had enough to enroll in college, but didn't have a legal visa, so you had to disapear again. Then you tried studying at the libraries, and you got a computer, trying to improve yourself.
'One night, five men who couldn't afford you, strung out on drugs, tried to take from you what they could neither afford nor seduce, and there was only one bouncer walking you to your car. You grabbed sticks and joined the fight, and I came to fight as well as they beat you down. You traveled to the watchtowers, and awakened, and when you returned I was here, with the Kopesh made for women of your order, for the Golden Janisaries, concubines and protectors of the true heirs of Mohamed, not his corporeal heirs, but the spiritual leaders of those who truly touch the supernal world and bring back guidance. Remember, Golden Janisary, foe of darkness, I am but your teacher, your guide into what is called in these parts the Adamantine Arrow. It is you who must choose the bringer of wisdom you will protect and serve.'"