"Muhammad spread the message by sending out reciters, not texts.."

-Kristina Nelson[The Art Of Reciting The Qur'an]

AsSalaamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh. Alhamdulillah, we're here in the Arkaan series again!

Do well to read the previous chapter before you read this one. In shaa Allah, it would make this even more understandable:)

•••

"Father, no. Don't leave!!"Arkaan woke up with a start, his heart beating wildly.

He couldn't stop the rush of fear and deep laboured breathing that came and went as if he had just ran a life-or-death marathon.

When he held his face in an attempt to clear the cloudiness from it, he realized the tears, ..streaming down his cheeks.

How would he classify that dream?

A foreboding or pure nightmare?

For a moment, he sat there in the room as his breathing slowed down, gradually, till he could feel the calmness around him once more.

The dream was still vivid in his mind.

A vast desert, burning under a scorching sun.

For miles it stretched, with no one in sight.

He wiped his face with the sleeves of his white thobe, obviously the dress they wore for the South district halaqah.

Looking ahead in the dazed heat, he swallowed. But only felt the dryness in his throat.

Water.. He needed water.

If he didn't get some soon enough, this desert could very well become his graveyard, he realized.

However, notwithstanding, he looked ahead with a determined look.

He was searching for something, ..or someone.

Whatever or whoever that was, he knew the reason why he came to that endless desert was important.

Yet for miles, he saw no one.

Sweat drenched him, draining down his clothes as he walked on, with no destination in mind particularly.

His mind had began failing him already for some time now, and confusion seemed to dominate him so he wouldn't think clearly.

Yet, in his Qalb was a yearn.

Something that kept him going.

Till he found it, he wouldn't turn back. No matter what.

It wasn't long till he saw the footsteps, carved into the burning sand.

The footprints were larger than his, when seen from afar.
When he placed his feet within, they were his exact form. They closed in to fit him perfectly.

For some reason, joy filled his heart looking at them.

He felt whatever he was looking for, he was close.

Whatever thing or person he was searching for, - was nearby, or at the very least, he now had a path he could follow to reach his goal.

It didn't take long for the broad back of a grown man to appear before him, a few miles apart.

"Dad?"

But the person didn't turn back. Rather, he continued walking forward.

Seeing that the man wouldn't stop for him or even turn back, Arkaan took up the pace, chasing after him.

Only one thing was certain, he must not lose sight of that man!

He feared the man might suddenly disappear. But he couldn't allow that man to disappear.

Compared to Arkaan's leaps and bounds, the man was walking in composed slow steps.

It was as if the whole world was waiting for him, and no matter what, time would not be stolen from him.

Thus it was no surprise when Arkaan appeared directly behind him and, - tugged violently at the man's large sleeves.

The man stopped.

"Daddy?"

By this time tears were flowing excessively from Arkaan's cheeks. And he didn't know why?

The man wouldn't turn.

"We made a promise, remember?!"Arkaan shouted.

But only the deep vast silence of the desert, answered him.

"We waited for you!"

He fell down on his knees behind the man, and cried out, as if that would empty his heart, of all its sorrow.

"We still wait for you.. You left us all alone.

You and mummy left me, all alone.."The sorrow in his voice was palpable, enveloping the desert for miles, and even the sun seemed to hide behind the rare sparse clouds which suddenly appeared, as though to hide from witnessing the scene that was unfolding.

"Know this Arkaan, from now on, many things would not make sense to you.."

Arkaan looked up in shock, as though he hadn't expected an answer from the man whom he had just asked the very question.

The voice was strangely familiar, and yet, ..not familiar.

Perhaps it was because he couldn't truly remember his father's voice.

But the voice sounded so much like Inaayat..
He still could remember the soothing voice from eight years ago, in that glade of the Honey Fields' Landmass.

The man continued, without once turning back to face him. Perhaps there was a reason why. Arkaan thought in his mind.

"Sometimes you'd be alone, facing these many storms. But know that, you're not always alone. You've friends with you, who know the Qur'an and Sunnah.

Things you've only heard of in tales and hearsays, would suddenly become your reality.

Perhaps, life would become even more difficult than death itself.."The voice came as a whisper, and yet, so gentle with a calming effect. One that only mothers can create in their lullabies for their young.

It immediately stood in stark contrast to the very words he spoke.

So, though they were frightful words being spoken, his heart couldn't help but be at peace.

It created a storm, and then made him exist within the eye, of which there was calmness.

"..And even though our world is unimaginably beautiful and full of love and perfection from Al Khâliq Himself, it is also full of the dread and ugliness we human and jinn, have created.

You'll find many times when you'll realize that, giving up, would be easier, than holding on.

Remember.. magic, whispers, omens and divinations, - all these are illusions.

Do not trust them.

Not even the Jinn which are Muslim.
For when Allah Ta'aala said;

Wa Annahu kaana rijaalum-minal-insi ya'Uudhūna biRijâlim-minal-Jinni fazaadūhum Rahaqaa

(And there were men from mankind who sought refuge in men from the jinn, so they [only] increased them in burden.)
[Sura Al-Jinn, Ayah 6]

You would realize that the mere association with them, is enough to alter your spirit and your personality..

When you find that you cannot rely on your strength alone, to fend off against all these darknesses, then enlightenment of realization would dawn upon you.

In this world one cannot rely on his or her strength alone.

In this world we all rely on something, or someone, to survive.

Even the soil, relies on the dead which once walked its surface, and on the rains, to be reborn anew.

You'll find that, the One who will never disappoint you, who has the greatest strength that you can rely on, who'll always keep you in remembrance, as long as you remember Him.. By Allah, even when we do not remember Him, He remembers us!

That Being.. You know his name already."The tranquil voice smiled in Arkaan's ears.

For some reason, Arkaan lowered his head in thought. He felt the man then turned to face him at that moment. However, as he sat on the sand in Tashāhud form, he realized he was unable to raise his head, to look at the man.

He so desperately wanted to look up, but he couldn't.

The man stretched a hand and tousled his hair.

Arkaan was stuck in a daze even as he looked down. Father..

"You're an intelligent boy after all."

By the time he realized the voice fading into the distance with the dream, it was already too late. The man and he were now worlds apart.

'Dad!'

He had called out to the man, even though he knew very well that he might as well could have been anyone else, and not his father.

Either way, he still called him 'Dad'.

Arkaan went to the annex bathroom to wash his face.

When he came out, he heard the faint recitation that was going on in the balcony outside.
One that, he had not realized before, due to the heavy emotions that had come with the dream.

He was sure Ukashah had also not heard him before, when he awoke with the startle.

After all, Zak had said to him before that, once Ukashah picks up his Qur'an to recite, he becomes oblivious of all his surroundings.

It was early dawn. Just before Fajr.

Arkaan stood by the opened window to listen to the tranquil recitation as it released him, from the sorrow of separation and the fear present in the dream.

It had a calming effect, Ukashah's recitation..

Even as Arkaan listened, a crumpled paper came rushing past his ear, right through the opened window.

It came with such precision and stealth that it fell right where he could notice it, with almost no sound accompanying it, as though carried by the wind itself!

Arkaan quickly looked from where it came from, so as not to lose sight of the culprit. However, he found no one, in the dark colours of deep dawn.

But something else caught his eye.

Right across from where the paper had come from, adjacent to his opened window as he looked out, his eyes locked with gray ones upon a pale face.

Dull gray like rainclouds, seemingly without any emotions. Pale like ash, seemingly without any blood, - a sickly hue you might call it.

It was their 'inexistent' neighbour whom Arkaan had invited for the Welcome Ceremony two days prior. Arkaan was already beyond a hundred percent sure that someone was living in that house, and it was not a jinn.

Another foreign-looking person, like himself. However unlike him, this person was truly a foreigner, and he was from the West.

Even though he had just dropped those many coloured papers into their compound, it was the same as extending an invitation, right?

So you finally decided to show yourself! Arkaan laughed.

He then did the sign of 'I've seen you.' to the pale faced boy.

Unlike before, the boy didn't let the curtain drop. However, his eyes moved past Arkaan as they focused on Ukashah reciting the Qur'an.

So he comes to listen to Ukashah too. Perhaps, this is his routine every night.

However, considering his closed window and the trajectory of the paper, it probably was not him who threw it..

Arkaan looked down once again, to the compound of the boy, adjacent theirs.

No one was there.

He turned back to the crumpled paper. Walking up to it, he took it up.

He gaped in surprise. There was no stone, or anything to aid it defy gravity as it pummelled into their room from below.

How then did it reach here from below their annexed compound?

He opened it.

Words were written. A poem.

The handwriting was like a child just learning how to write.

In China, late one moonless night,
The Simurgh first appeared to mortal sight.

He let a feather float down through the air,

And rumours of its fame spread everywhere;

Arkaan stared at the paper in shock. His eyes narrowed. Somehow he felt irritated by the writer, though he didn't know who or what wrote those words.

What kind of a joke is this? Irritated at the paper and the writer, he went back to his bed and covered himself with his blankets. He knew there was no way he'd find the culprit. So he'd leave it at that.

Down in the bushes, a black-hood appeared, hazel eyes gleamed in mischief.

•••

Later that Friday morning, the sun had risen high in the clear blue sky.

Pools of water on the earth reflected its bright radiance, like large mirrors of light.

The earth was sedated, by the rain that had fallen the previous day. A bright multicoloured rainbow arced in the western sky, and all could see it. All seven iridescent colours flashed gracefully on the navy-blue sky.

Grey clouds patched parts of the sky, and the sun was fresh out of the oven of the firmament.

A boy lay lying on the lush green meadow in an open field.

He held his right hand above him under the tree which shaded the upper half of his body, leaving his torso and legs in the warming white morning sun.

His mind thought back to the events of the previous day.

He hadn't meant to do it, but his hands acted out of their own accord.

"Sorry.."He whispered,"Maryam.."

But what was this sweet and tender feeling mixed in with the guilt. Surely he shouldn't feel any good about it. Thinking about the girl, a faint smile crept up his fair face.

Then he remembered the action of the emerald eyed girl. Surely she seemed frightened at Maryam about something she couldn't say. But Maryam seemed oblivious to it all..

It was a good thing she didn't throw them back out in the rain, considering how horrified the girl seemed. She sat there the whole time at a distance from him and Maryam.

She said nothing throughout, and nobody seemed present in that house. Maryam tried talking to her, but the girl just stared at her in abject terror, her eyes seemingly mirroring an event past they couldn't look into.

Tawhîd stood nearby, in case Maryam needed some sort of protection..

He had always looked at her from afar and only felt acquainted to her through their family's marriage. But for some reason, when he held her hand the day before, during the rain, he felt there was something more in his heart for the girl, but he never had the courage to pursue it.

Thus he had always dismissed it.

•••

"Ahh~ Another bright fresh day to live and strive",Arkaan exclaimed as he fully stretched out.

The day before, Ukashah had told them there was not going to be any halaqah sessions that Friday morning, until after the Jum'ah salah.

Which meant, he had the whole morn to himself!

However, his joy was shortlived when Mother Ashyaa appeared, knocking loudly on their door from the hall.

"We're using this morn till Jum'ah to prepare for the evening's Welcome Party!"

"Aww Noo.."Arkaan groaned, laying his head back into the comfort of his pillow, and pulling the covers back up.

"Just five more minutes.."Arkaan smiled with his eyes gently closed, coiling smugly into the recesses of his bed. Only to have it fiercely wrung away from him, the curtains opening simultaneously, letting blinding white light assailing into the room.

"Get up, You lazy boy! Man Jadda Wa Jadda!(Whoever strives, shall succeed!)"

The rest of the day went by very quickly.

Soon, it was time for Jum'ah. Even though he was exhausted as a worked-up slave, Ukashah wouldn't let him rest even small, as they worked out in the room and the compound outside.

He looked up at the emotionless boy with a feeling of wrongness.

They both did the work together but Ukashah seemed to not be as exhausted as he was, even with the sweat running down his face and within his armpits.

He sure needed that Jum'ah bath very well..

Probably because Ukashah always did some morning exercise and sword training, he didn't tire easily. Arkaan concluded.

However, he wondered for what purpose all that was for?

•••

Meanwhile, that same morn in the Al Maghribi compound, Maryam sat watching Zak and Abdullah practice on their Murajah, doing revision of their Hifz in turns.

Her younger sisters, Aasiyah and Khadijah, didn't want to be left out, and so sat nearby, looking at Zak with pleading baby eyes.

Zak laughed, as he invited them over. They sitting in a circle of four, read the Holy Qur'an from memory. Much to Abdullah's disapproval.

Maryam chuckled. This younger brother always wanted his elder brother's and other's attention all for himself, as far back as she could remember.

Yet it was all so beautiful, once she realized they were back to the times before. It felt like the days of the Halaqah had already returned.

She thought back to about a week ago when Arkaan had been washed upon the Island.

Who would have known he'd be that pillar, who'd raise the halaqah, back to its foundation.

A pillar?

No, probably many pillars..

He had that charisma about him..

However, the thought of Arkaan brought back memories of the previous night's dream to her, as much as she did not want to remember it.

Melancholy and a headache. Confusion because she could not remember. That was what it did to her.

For in the same way she had dreamlike memories of Arkaan, but was sure they had never met before, the girl in her dream seemed strangely familiar to her too, in a similar fashion. But she had no memories of her also.

Maryam wandered back to the East wing, a bowl of crumbs and grains in hand, lost in her own thoughts.

She sat down upon the stairs of the East wing compound, watching the little fowls and ducks scramble to take bites, nibbling at the bread and grains she fed them.

An unusual quietness encompassed her as she watched the little creatures. Something was bothering her mind since last night's dream.

"Somer.."

Her voice came as a whisper.

Hayaa who was standing right behind her, about to scare the living daylights out of her absentminded younger sister, was rather held back in flabbergast.

"What did you say?!"

Maryam turned back. Even though caught unawares, the depth of her thoughts were such as left her sober.

Since she had that dream, she had been sad the whole morning.

"Somer.. Eldest sister, have you heard that name before.."Maryam called out quietly, looking into the wind.

Hayaa's eyes betrayed recognition. She said nothing.

Maryam read through her sister's silence.

She knew something.

"Hayaa, please.."Do not lie to me.. Tell me what you know..

Maryam's sad eyes stared into her sylph-like sister's own.

Hayaa sighed. Her voice came out light, tired..

"We always knew that we couldn't hide it from you forever..

We knew that, somehow someday, you'd ask this question..

..This question has its answer from years ago.. when you were still a child, on your becoming five years of age.."Hayaa began.

Even as she said this, she stretched her dainty hand, glistening light sweat like silver, to touch the left foot of her younger sister, exposing a metallic anklet on her. A beautiful charm in the form of a key, was attached to it.

Even though Maryam was grown, Hayaa still saw her as the fragile little girl from twelve years ago, when she was only five, bedridden from a disease no physician could diagnose.

"Mother gave you this anklet, and with it, ..a locket and key."

Hayaa's eyes narrowed, as if looking far back into the past, at the little Maryam, receiving a gift from her beloved mother, on her fifth year.

It was a lovely copper anklet.

The unfurled wings of a black butterfly, were engraved on it.

Midnight black, depicting freedom.. Yet, clasped around her foot like a chain of burdens.

"Have you ever wondered why mother and I try to persuade you, to start wearing the face veil..?"Hayaa's voice came out sad, like a whisper.

Maryam could only stare at her, lost for words.

She could give no response. Whatever reason they had;

Whatever reason they were so protective of her since her childhood;

Whoever that girl in her dream was;

All the answers lay in her fifth year.

And Hayaa was going to tell her the truth behind it all.

"Jinns plagued this Island, before. And almost turned the South district mad, rife with their violence.

But all because of one Jinni.."

"Junnah.."Maryam whispered.

Hayaa faced her with a sad smile,"But you always called her Somer.."

•••