A Dream Amidst the Sand

My Brother,

I hope my letter finds you well.

One would think that words would come easily to one such as myself, but I find my thoughts as clouded as water from a desert spring. I do not expect that these clouds will settle and clear simply because I choose what I believe to be a righteous path. Perhaps if I detail my quandary I will find the words, for truth should not be rushed for brevity.

It had always mystified me that our kin could give away liberty for temporary safety. I understand the seduction of comfort, but not at such a price! We are a people without a past, slave to an unseen master. Within the walls is nothing but a civilised tyranny, without there is nothing but the desert. Outside, one can master death, if one is careful, rather than die the little deaths that the compromise of morality demands.

I choose the night that this note is delivered so that there can be no long goodbye. I am sure that when you received the note, the seal will have been broken, the wards unravelled. This is my gambit for your peace of mind, brother. Know that I am either free, or that the Sha'irs are toying with my withered corpse. I hope you will remember that in the end I chose life with only self-caution as restraint and not the dog's tether.

I must apologise, for again the words seem ephemeral - out of reach.

I am no caveat of the faceless ruin, no martyr. I am a tired old man who labours to breathe in the hot wind and has seen too many sons die for neglect.

Remember me well.
Abdul-Muhsi Faruq Al Hakam Ashraf
Most Honorable Servant of the Reckoner,
Arbitrator Who-Distinguishes-Truth-From-Falsehood