Bala Hatun stood outside the doors waiting for Osman Bey to come back out. She fiddled with a few plates, when the door opened, showing Osman Bey. He came up from the small doorway so she made her way to him. He stared into her eyes, reflecting love. Bala cringed, but waited for him to speak, however, the shop door opened, and in walked a few ahis.

'Friends.' 'Selam Aleykum.' Osman replied. 'Aleykum Selam.' Bala looked at the rugs that the ahis had brought. She frowned at a few, and nodded at some. 'Separate the ones that have two fold abb, and single bend weft carefully. Weavings that have mesk and kufi motifs are stronger. We can't sell them at the market like this.' 'As you command, Bala Hatun.' Bala looked through the leathers.

'Hides of the mesh and Morocco leather are not suitable for us. Make boots from them, and hand them out to the poor.' 'As you command, Bala Hatun.' The Ahis took away the works, and Bala turned towards Osman, who had an impressed look on his face.

'You've got skills, not only in swinging the sword, but also in trade, Bala Hatun.' 'We protect our lives with swords, but with trade, we protect the future of the Turks and our morals, Osman Bey.' 'My grandmother, Hayme, used to say that the morals of Turkish are on the hands of its women. Thanks to you, I know now that she was right.' Bala smiled lightly, when Gonca rushed in.

'Bala Hatun. Your horse, Alaca.' 'What happened to Alaca?' 'She isn't well. She is at the stable.' Bala paled, worrying. She ran out, and towards the stables, where Alaca was frothing at the mouth. She walked around the pole, and calmed Alaca, crying. Osman Bey walked up beside her.

'My faithful friend. The wings of Bala Hatun, Alaca'm. How can I bear to see you like this?' She leaned against the horse. 'Alaca came into my life from the epic of manas, Osman Bey.' She explained. 'For me, it was Kanikey's race horse. Just like the moon on the sky, my Alaca was my light in the dark.' Bala saw the froth, and stroked the horse.

'Let me check, Bala Hatun.' Bala looked up to see Osman Bey offering to help. 'You can't be offended by the moon when the cloud covers it.' He ducked under the pole, taking Alaca's reigns. He calmed the horse. Looking into her eyes, he checked over her horse shoes. He looked at Bala. 'I can see from your wounds that you have fought so many battles with Bala Hatun.' He looked at Bala again.

'You're such a brave horse, just like your owner. You won't give up or surrender.' He looked properly at Bala. 'Obviously, you're taking good care of your horse, Bala Hatun. You love her like your friend, but ride her like your enemy. And she endured in silence and didn't make a noise, despite the inflammation in its blood.' Bala nodded, patting Alaca's mane. 'Just for you.' Bala looked up, looking at his eyes. She blushed, then looked back down.

'If you have trust in me, just like you saved me from the mud, let me cure Alaca.' 'I trust you. That's why I brought you to my father, Osman Bey. Take good care of my horse.' Osman smiled, taking out oats, and putting it towards Alaca's mouth. 'Eat it, it will clean your blood. Now, I say, let's take you to the tribe. I'll treat you there. So, I don't have to see tears in the beautiful eyes of your owner, Bala Hatun.' Bala looked up, but didn't blush like before. He was flirting, and he was definitely not her type. She looked down, before Alaca whinnied.

'May Allah reward you, Osman Bey.' 'My only wish is to take you to the new market tomorrow, if you let me.' Bala thought. She didn't feel anything towards Osman, and didn't know if he felt anything for her. However, she did want to give her father a good name. She nodded. 'From now on, my faithful friend is entrusted to you. You can come as you wish.' He leaned in. 'I'll bring Alaca, no matter what.' He said it in a husky voice, but Bala didn't let it get to her.

Osman untied the reigns, and took Alaca. Bala smiled at Alaca, and watched as he rode off with her friend. Gonca nudged her from behind. 'So, you gave Alaca to Osman Bey. You seem to trust him a lot.' 'Gonca, Osman Bey is a trustworthy man. Although I see his intentions, I know he will look after Alaca well.' 'Ok, as you say, Bala, as you say.' 'Anyways, I need to see our Sheik about the treasure.' 'See you later.'

Bala left, and made her way towards the secret room. She knocked on the door. She heard the permission.

She bowed, with her hands crossing her chest. 'Thanks to you. Remaining Hadhrat Khoca Ahmet Yessevi, this wooden sword, finally stays with us.' 'With your grace and prayer, if Allah wills, father.' 'The most acceptable grace is the efforts of the person, and the most acceptable prayer, is the actions of the person, my daughter. You've succeeded a difficult task.' He took the hilt of the sword. 'This wooden sword is not like regular sword. This sword will show up in the most depressed times, and will reach the new Khan of the Turks. With the kindness of Allah, when it garnishes the waist of the new Khan of the Turks, it'll destroy the darkness, and bring light to the hearts. And with its spiritual light, it'll terrorise the cruel! And give hope to the oppressed!'

'How are we going to fine that Khan in these dark times, father? Is there a wisdom, a secret of this?' 'We will find out, my daughter. We will find that unblinking sparkle, in contrast with the dead of winter.' He nodded, and Bala hopefully nodded. 'Because, when we let that sparkle wear this wooden sword, that sparkle, by turning into a volcano, will burn out the curtain of abasement and captivity that settle down on the oppressed.' 'Who will be this Khan, father?' 'The one who isn't afraid to fight abasing darkness, and takes action, not only with his heart, but also with his mind, and the one who leans against the oppressed. Son of a brave man!'

A few hours passed, and Bala was in her room, drawing on a plate. She picked up the green acrylic, and applied it to the leaf drawing. The door opened, revealing Gonca Hatun. 'Welcome, Gonca Hatun.' The girl nodded. Bala continued the drawing.

'Rest a little, Bala Hatun. We've been through a lot.' Bala looked up from her drawing. 'You have no idea how much I've missed working like this, Gonca Hatun.' 'Who are these, Bala Hatun?' Bala sat back up, looking at the two people she had drawn. She twisted her plate around, so that it was the right way around. 'Two lovers. Asli and Kerem.' 'Why are they not together, if they are in love?' Bala chuckled, turning towards Gonca. 'I've heard their stories from a itinerant in Aleppo. Before they can come together, Kerem turns into ash because of his longing for Asli. Asli makes a broom out of her hair, and sweeps these ashes. So, their reunion is postponed until the after life, and their story remains for us.' She placed the plate down.

'What can I say, Bala? May Allah predestine for love, if reunion is possible.' 'Ameen.' They smiled at each other.

The night passed, and the next day, Bala Hatun waited for Osman Bey to come with Alaca. She piled a few plates, smiling at customers. She picked a pot, and brought it round to Gonca. There were shouts from around the market. She didn't pay any attention, and placed her Asli and Kerem plate on the table. From out of nowhere, Osman Bey jumped onto another table in front of their shop. She gasped, pulling the plate back. Osman Bey beat the man against the table, and Bala looked at him wide eyed. The man was slapped, and Osman Bey drew his sword, holding it at the mans neck.

'My Bey, please spare my life.' The man showed his hand, with a money purse in it. Bala shook her head. Thieves were prominent these days. 'My Bey, please spare my life.' Bala stepped forwards to see what Osman would do. 'Please..' Another man was thrown in front of her. She gasped, stepping back, but regained her silence.

'Nizamettin Bey!' Everyone looked towards the short man. 'I've decided on these two's punishment. Let them know, that they will die if I see them ever again.' 'Thank you, Osman Bey, they deserved it.' 'Do your duty rightfully from now on, Nizamettin Bey.' Bala looked at Nizamettin, then back at Osman. 'Remember the oath you've taken, saying there would be no injustice here! If there is an incidence similar to this again, I'll make you pay for it.' He swung his sword, and cut the thief's hand off.

The man's screams filled the market, and Bala nodded, accepting this punishment. 'He who has a long tongue, loses his tongue, and he who has a long hand, loses his hand. He got what he deserved, Osman Bey.' 'Take these thieves away.' The men were taken away, and Osman's alp followed after them. An old woman stumbled forwards. Osman Bey took ahold of the money purse.

'Are you looking for your sack?' The woman nodded, taking it back. 'Thank you, May God protect you.' Bala smiled at the woman. 'Aren't you Osman Bey? Ertugrul Bey's son?' Osman nodded, a smile on his face. 'You are brave like your father.' She looked at Bala. 'May God let you have who you love.' Bala stopped smiling. She nodded politely at Osman. 'And may God led us be under Beys as just as you are. Thank you so much.' Bala awkwardly stood, playing with her fingers. 'May God protect you.' 'Thank you.' The old woman left, holding her purse.

Osman stepped in front of Bala. He eyes the plate. Seeing where his eyes were, Bala passed the plate towards him. 'Asli and Kerem.' Bala nodded. 'I worked very hard on it, and it is finally over.' 'You've done a good job. It is beautiful. It isn't just the art work that is over. Your horse's treatment has ended too.' Bala looked up, and laughed. An old man walked towards them.

'You are a valiant hero, son.' They looked towards him. 'May your sword that spreads justice, last.' 'Thank you, dervish father. Where do you come from? Where are you going?' 'We come from here to there, son. We love with our hearts, and travel with our feet.' Bala smiled at old man. 'May your travel be blessed, dervish father.' 'Thank you.' He looked towards the plate, taking it in his hands.

'I have been travelling for so long, but I had yet to see such a thing.' The dervish traced the patterns with his finger. 'No sacks of gold would do this justice , but how much is it worth, my daughter?' 'Astaghfirullah. Gold comes from men, but blessings come from Allah. It is my gift to you, dervish father.' 'Thank you. May you be happy in both worlds.' Bala nodded.

The dervish spoke. 'When a lover is with their lover, they find happiness.' 'We are not lovers.' The look on Osman's face hurt Bala a lot but she didn't want unnecessary rumours spreading. 'Oh. I'm sorry, my daughter. I didn't realise.' Nevertheless, he out the plate into his sack. 'May you stay with Allah. Goodbye.' They nodded and watched as the man walked away.

Bala turned towards Osman to explain her actions, but she saw he was still focused on the leaving dervish. 'What's wrong, Osman Bey?' 'Many wolves wear sheep's pelt and many traitors, seem like dervishes with hair bands and dervish coats. I don't trust that man, one bit.' 'Neither a traitor gives up his nature, nor a tyrant his tyranny. We just have to protect our own nature.' 'Bala Hatun, you said we are not lovers. Why's that?' 'Osman Bey, why would be? We only just met, so don't worry your thoughts about it. Let us go see Alaca.'

Osman Bey gestured for her to go look. They walked towards the stables, and when Bala saw Alaca, she ran towards her. She kissed her face. 'She rode like the wind to get here.' 'How will I pay you back, Osman Bey? What was her cure?' 'Her cure was a few drops of ointment. And her love for you, Bala Hatun. She was impatient to get into dangerous situations with you.' 'You've seen it now, Osman Bey. I'm a poor craftsman on the path of Ahi.' 'When I saw you crying by the horse yesterday, I promised myself.' 'What did you promise yourself?' 'Whoever makes this woman cry a single tear, they are my enemy, I said.' Bala looked down, unable to reply to Osman's words. 'May you take the right path, Osman Bey.'

'Osman Bey!' A short man called towards them. Osman walked to him. 'What do you want?' 'Alişar Bey has sent word to everyone, my Bey. He is looking for you. He has said that he wants to have you as a guest, not as your Sancak Bey, but as your hunt partner.' Bala Hatun looked towards Osman, awaiting his reply. 'Eyvallah, let's go together.' He returned to Bala. 'If you'll excuse me, Bala Hatun. I'll come to see you again.' Bala nodded, now rid of her smile. She watched as Osman Bey left, before turning to her beloved horse.

Bala entered the pot shop. Gonca smiled, looking at her. 'Your eyes are happy, Bala Hatun.' 'My Alaca is here.' 'How is Alaca? Osman Bey cured your horse, as your happiness tells.' 'I don't know if he has a remedy or not, he healed my horse over one night.' 'I don't know if he has a remedy, but as he healed over one night, he has a feeling too.' 'Gonca, what are you saying? Tell me what you are hiding?' 'I asked people from Kayi. Osman Bey doesn't have a Hatun.' Bala scoffed.

'A brave like him must have a lover.' 'I asked thoroughly. He doesn't have a lover either.' Bala turned around rapidly. 'Gonca! Stop! I couldn't care any less of Osman Bey. Yes, he is the hope for our lands, but not my lo- not always to be associated with me! He's trying too hard!' 'Sorry, my Bala. I am wrong to say such things. Forgive me.' 'He threw himself into danger for Aygul Hatun withought any doubts.' 'She's his cousin, what else should he do? Will he let her die? Would it be a thing of a brave man like Osman? Look, Bala. You may not see it, or want to believe it, but Osman Bey holds you deep in his heart. You could find another man, and have a family, and he still wouldn't forget you. I'm with you all the way, but I will feel his pain.'

Bala Hatun picked up two pots and placed it on Gonca's table. 'Put these points on the counter. And check the empty counters.' 'As you say, Bala.' Gonca set off to work, as Bala remembered her past with Osman. Yes, he did give her certain looks, but he was going too fast. She'd only just saved him from the mud. And he only just threatened to kill her in the castle. She stepped outside to help Gonca with the plates, when a man came running up to her.

'Good day, sisters.' 'Good day? Welcome.' 'Thank you, hatun. There's a white horse in the barn. They say it's yours.' Bala stepped forward. 'What happened to Alaca?' 'It got annoyed for no reason. Now it's agonising. You should take a look.' Bala turned to Gonca. 'I'll take a look, Gonca.' Bala and the man made their way over to the stables, closely inspected by Gonca.

However, when they got there, a man jumped in front of the woman, causing Bala to jump back. Men surrounded her, as she pulled her dagger out. She swung it towards them, and they moved back. They laughed maliciously, as each separately attacked her. 'I'm here, sister!' Gonca shouted, as she rushed in to help. Soon, Bala was caught by two arms, but managed to kick someone away. However, a dagger was placed at her neck. She watched Gonca get hit in the leg, and then hit from behind, causing her to pass out.

Bala struggled, as a man emerged from behind the shop. He removed his hat, to reveal a candle marking.

'You're very beautiful. Sorry for your face.' He was about to grab her chin, when Bala spat in his face. He rubbed it off, as Bala seethed. With that hand, he slapped her across her face, so she welcomed darkness.

A/N

Heyoooooo! I have finally decided to get a move on and update this book. I also thought that maybe I'm gonna not skip any episodes so this was ep 3 btw. i want to build up Bala and Osman's friend zone story and increase Osman's love so that he would be jealous of Kongar. um so lygsm