ثُمَّ أَوْرَثْنَا الْكِتَابَ الَّذِينَ اصْطَفَيْنَا مِنْ عِبَادِنَا ۖ فَمِنْهُمْ ظَالِمٌ لِنَفْسِهِ وَمِنْهُمْ مُقْتَصِدٌ وَمِنْهُمْ سَابِقٌ بِالْخَيْرَاتِ بِإِذْنِ اللَّهِ ۚ ذَٰلِكَ هُوَ الْفَضْلُ الْكَبِير

جَنَّاتُ عَدْنٍ يَدْخُلُونَهَا يُحَلَّوْنَ فِيهَا مِنْ أَسَاوِرَ مِنْ ذَهَبٍ وَلُؤْلُؤًا ۖ وَلِبَاسُهُمْ فِيهَا حَرِيرٌ

وَقَالُوا الْحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ الَّذِي أَذْهَبَ عَنَّا الْحَزَنَ ۖ إِنَّ رَبَّنَا لَغَفُورٌ شَكُورٌ

الَّذِي أَحَلَّنَا دَارَ الْمُقَامَةِ مِنْ فَضْلِهِ لَا يَمَسُّنَا فِيهَا نَصَبٌ وَلَا يَمَسُّنَا فِيهَا لُغُوبٌ

Then we caused to inherit the Book those We have chosen of Our servants; and among them is he who wrongs himself, and among them is he who is moderate, and among them is he who is foremost in good deeds by permission of Allah. That [inheritance] is what is the great bounty.

[For them are] gardens of perpetual residence which they will enter. They will be adorned therein with bracelets of gold and pearls, and their garments therein will be silk.

And they will say, "Praise to Allah, who has removed from us [all] sorrow. Indeed, our Lord is Forgiving and Appreciative -

He who has settled us in the home of duration out of His bounty. There touches us not in it any fatigue, and there touches us not in it weariness [of mind]."

[Al Fâtir 35: 32-35]

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Mt. Shirah Landmass Of The South District
Masjidur-Rahmân

Opening the green wooden framed tinted casements of the window, a soft breeze whistles pass him, now exposed to the cool atmosphere outside.

Large white clouds had covered the sky to as far as the horizon, leaving patches of blue here and there. It made the sky look and radiate a peaceful heavenly serenity.

The sun was completely blotted out, so you could only see the circular disc of white radiance, hidden behind the fluffy white. Its warmth and heat had also been quelled into cold winds and occasional breezes.

It was a sudden change from the intense heat the afternoon presented with. He stood there for a while, soaking in the peace and calm, wishing he could stay there forever.

The whole scene went to accentuate the holy aura in the masjid, making it feel like a sacred temple, where holy monks and ascetics would lodge and busy themselves in prayer and fasting, toiling for the fruits of the spirit, completely unenamoured of the mundane world.

As he stood there, he watched as the few remaining people who came to pray their 'Asr prayer flock out of the masjid.

It dawned on him that, although South district was heavily populated with many Muslims, very few of them actually came to the masjid to pray. He sighed.

He probably could count them on all twenty digits, yet still the masjid was big enough to accommodate the thousands who populated Tâ Hâ's South district.

He turned towards Ukashah who was seated by the mihrâb, his face slightly lowered towards the opened Qur'an in front of him. He was busily humming the sacred passages of the holy Book.

Zak was talking to some of the few Muslims who had come to the masjid for the prayer, at the entrance. He had this perpetual affable smile on his face as he conversed with the group. He could make out some slight words, they seemed to be discussing, - the revival of the South district's halaqah.

Apart from these two, two other boys were present in the masjid. One was a chubby bodied dark guy with short dreadlocks, and a beaming face with glasses. He was busily taking cursory glances through the masjid, his eyes sparkling with nervous excitement. He decided not to disturb his excited survey.

That must be Rafik - the apprentice of the physician, Mr. Dawûd.

Then the other guy.

He had already thought about who to sit with first and acquiesce himself. Arkaan turned to look at the guy who had caught his attention right when he first entered the masjid, the other of the two.

This was because, the guy was in a very peculiar position. Arkaan put a placid expression on his face to neutralize laughter.

He had been earlier introduced as Arafat; a youth with a Spaniard looking countenance, and a slim physique, and - he was tied to a pillar of the masjid.

Was he really tied like thus throughout the 'Asr prayer? Arkaan would never know. It was like he was a circus show on display in the masjid.

Although Arafat had an unsightly scowl on his face, it didn't detract from his natural good looks, which somehow spoke of mischief.

This guy is Old man Abdul Sattâr's nephew then.

From what Arkaan had heard, he wasn't really endeared to matters of the Dîn. He was the typical 'enjoy life as it comes' youth, caring nothing about the matters of the hereafter.

Thus, his current circumstance must have been because he didn't want to be there in the first place. Arkaan analyzed.

"O Yâ Sattâr",He called Allah's name after which the old man had been named. I'd never known the sorrow-faced old man had this eerie side to himself too;-)

Ukashah had given Arkaan a brief background the night before about the two boys.

Among them, Arafat grew up in a typical nonreligious environment where one parent was a revert, and the other, a not so strong Muslim.

Arkaan noted his family was somewhat similar so this interested him.

Although he couldn't say his father was that strong in the Dîn, at least he knew his father held to the principles of the faith strongly. So he was raised in an average Muslim home where they prayed five times everyday, in the very least.

For Arafat though, he had heard the parent who was born Muslim was intended to marry another in order to augment her weakness in the religion. Only for what happened to happen afterwards when she met and fell for the Spaniard.

Well, once the guy agreed to revert, that's that then.

Ukashah wasn't really one to spend his time talking too much about others, so he resisted Arkaan's attempts to dig up more information.

To Arkaan, he was interested in this guy's case because - somehow, they were very much alike.

Arafat looked at him as if he had just been reading his thoughts, making Arkaan to cringe slightly.

A creepy feeling filled him but he ignored it and smiled, making his way over whilst waving towards the guy.

"Salaamu Alaykum! Hope you're doing well, Yaa Akhii."Arkaan said, a little too jovially.

Immediately, a look of chagrin appeared on Arafat's face as he glowered at Arkaan in apparent displeasure. Arkaan could literally imagine the guy's reply to be "Do. I. look. Like. I'm doing well!"

Seems he wasn't ready to make friends..Arkaan sighs, only to suddenly hear a surprise response from the guy.

"Oh yhh. I'm cool."

He raised his gaze to see an unmistakably smile on the guy's face except, - this smile was completely filled with ridicule.

"Actually been doing very well. What 'bout you? Supongo que eso es lo que quieres que diga, ¿verdad Estúpido?(Guess that is what you want me to say, right Stupid?)" His voice carried a Hispanic accent to it, and he spoke his words coolly, like it was an everyday thing to say. If not for the derision on his face, Arkaan might have been misled.

Hey, did I just hear some 'stupid' among his words? Or I'm just mistaken..

"I guess, since we're done with the pleasantries, we can go on to the part where you untied me from these ropes. You see, I'm dreadfully tired being imprisoned here just so some guys can make up the number for their revival something." He raised his head skywards,"¡Dios! Me pregunto si voy a tener piedad, o si lo están.(God! I wonder whether I'm to be pitied, or they are.)" Lowering his gaze, he looked at Arkaan dead-on, nothing from his previous demeaning behaviour lessened..

"Now Why don't we get to the more civil manner of doing things?"Arafat said as his face morphed with a sarcastic smile as well. In actuality, you could tell he already had a low opinion of Arkaan."Hurry up now..Hurry..Hurry"He gestured Arkaan, like one would do a dog.

Arkaan really didn't get that last part, but his instincts were telling him he was just insulted. Especially when Arafat clearly wasn't hiding his resentment with his fake smile. He was stuck in a daze for a while.

Like, what do he do to this guy to receive such a treatment? Have they ever met somewhere before, and this guy wants to reap some karma?

Clearing his mind, Arkaan smiled again, trying to ease out the tension. As long as the guy didn't openly insult him, he'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm Arkaan. I've heard about you. Arafat, right?"

"Look, I don't know just how stupid you're bro,"

Ouch!

This time it sure came out explicitly.

"And I really don't want to know",he said that last part out as if he wanted to cry,"but as you can see my hands are tied here." He demonstrates by waving his hands which have been tied at the wrists to the pillar.

"I don't know about you, and that Fatty over there and what circumstances brought you both here, but I'm sure as hell that I didn't come here on my own free will!"

Arkaan looked back to see Rafik still busily scanning the masjid. His mind wasn't even on them. He was like a child who got his favourite playtoy, and thus, immediately forgets everything else.

"Say,"Arkaan began,"If you really didn't come here on your own free will, and you'd rather be anywhere else, how come you're dressed in the same white attire like all of us? You do know that's the signature wear and colour of South district's Saint Emperors' halaqah - 'Inabah, right?

Someone didn't really force you to wear it, did they?"