Empires Of Faith

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Chapter 40: A Journey Completed

23 Dhul-Hijjah, 1663

Like a white lamp in the sky, the morning sun rose up in the distance. The golden rays were spread wide and far, covering the vast deserts all around. Sitting atop a small dune just outside of his tent, Muhammad ibn Sulayman peered out over the lands ahead. It had been exactly three months since he had begun his journey back home; and he was but a day or two away from his home. Reflecting over the entire adventure he'd had, Muhammad recalled the first day that Imran and Usama had shown up at his house.

"As-Salaamu 'Alaikum," Imran called out, knocking on the door to Muhammad's hut.

"Wa’Alaikumus Salaam; who goes there?" Muhammad replied from inside.

"Why do you not come out and face us? Come and see who it is that calls you with your own eyes, ya Muhammad?"

Stepping out with a sword at hand, Muhammad inspected his visitors and found them to be his old friends, Imran and Usama. They were welcomed into his house at once, with his wife quickly preparing some food to feed them. "There is yet another war approaching," Imran informed Muhammad as they ate. "It is not the petty tribal fights which you left from years ago. This is a war; the Muslims across the land are under attack."

"Kwaade's influence is growing," Usama chimed in. "Even amongst some of the Muslims there is fitnah. His plotting has gone beyond the physical combat which we have become accustomed to resisting. Now he fights us on two fronts, the physical battlefield and the battlefield of the heart and mind."

"Worse now," Imran cut back in, clenching his fist in anger at the situation. "Many of the Muslims are weakening, as some of our generals and leaders have apostated and joined his side. About one week ago, we came to a village and we tried to warn them; but, the citizens kicked us out, fearing that we meant only to stir up trouble. The following day, we witnessed their demise. We knew that the army would continue through the lands to other cities, so we pressed on to warn them in the hopes that they could prepare an army to fight the invading forces."

"So why then have you come to this home of ours?" Munirah entered with a concerned voice. "Have you come to recruit my husband towards death?"

"Munirah," Muhammad spoke softly. He stood to face her and noticed the tears running down her cheeks already. She knew what was coming. "Habibti," he said taking her hands gently in his.

"I- I know," she stuttered. "I know you must, but, it's just," she fell into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder.

That was the first time he had gone to fight, but it was only the beginning of his battles. Thereafter, Usama had informed him of a more dire situation up in the northwestern lands. "Just as Kwaade has gained control of the hearts of these Ikeqi men, he is gaining control of the Muslims there," Usama had proclaimed. "They are suffering in so many ways, Subhaan Allah, man. It truly is a meager existence. They live upon tiny islands surrounded entirely by Christian and Kwaadi lands. They are losing their Iman and their ties to Islam; it is a desperate struggle and there is no one to stand up and help them keep firm on the Deen. Just as the people here lost some of their warrior ways over time, they will lose Islam if things continue on this way. Alhamdulillah, you and I grew up upon the Deen, living in fairly practicing communities and knowing our Deen. These people have not been given the same, and I think that they are more in need of spiritual defense and guidance than physical defense and protection. Allahu 'Alam, but I think that if no one else is going to do it, we at least owe it to them as their brothers in Islam to assist them. We are free to practice Islam and live without fear, but what about them?"

The same was later explained to Munirah some time thereafter, with Muhammad doing his best to convey the dire need of his journey. After doing all that he could to ensure her safety and provision during his absence, Muhammad left his wife behind once again, setting off on a journey across the lands and sea with a promise to return to her within six months. Riding out on his horse beside Imran and Usama, Muhammad continued to look back to his house and his wife. She stood near the doorway, her hands resting on her stomach, watching until the black cape on Muhammad's back became invisible over the horizon. Muhammad looked back in longing, waiting for her to go back inside before riding off to catch up with the others.

With a sad smile, Muhammad shook his head and let the memories drift away. A shadow appeared beside him and he looked up to see his young companion, Ishaq Al-Ghareeb, standing beside him. Clearing his throat, he spoke up to say Salaams. "Wa’Alaikumus Salaam," Ishaq replied, crossing his arms as he stood in wait. Muhammad got to his feet, assuming that Ishaq was ready to set out again even though he'd said no such thing. He was a man of few words, as Muhammad had learned over their three month journey together. They had had fewer than five actual conversations throughout the entire duration, and most had been brief.

With his tent and bags packed away, Muhammad grabbed his spear and made ready to leave. He saddled his horse and climbed atop, with Ishaq mounting the camel given to him by Usama. As the two set off, Ishaq began to recall his own journeys and everything that had led to him accompanying Muhammad home.

It had all started months ago in a distant land. As a nomad, Ishaq had no permanent home; and so he wandered about the lands endlessly. As it was, he came across a small nation of Muslims with whom he was in disagreement. Their abandonment of Deen and extreme focus on culture were severely off-putting to him, and he left their lands at once. From there, he came upon a people similar to the Muslims, and yet, they were allies of the Kwaadi. He did not wish to be amongst them even for a day, and so he left from them as well.

His next journey brought him to a land ruled by Christians, in fact, it was the largest nation of Christians remaining in the world. Whilst there, Ishaq came to know of an attack against the native peoples by a nearby enemy. Though it was originally assumed that the attackers were Muslims, it soon became clear that the attack had been carried out by the treacherous Ikeqi peoples- allies of the Kwaadi.

War between the Muslims and Christians of the area was about to break out once again, but thankfully, Ishaq and a man known as the Lion of Spain had managed to expose the true enemies. An alliance was formed between Spain and some of the neighboring Muslim forces intent on driving out the troublesome Kwaadi from the land altogether. However, due to the betrayal of one man, another battle had to be fought and the Muslims took control of a great portion of the Christian lands. Though it seemed well enough, Ishaq couldn't help but wonder what consequences would be faced thereafter...

24 Dhul-Hijjah, 1663

Another day dawned in the city of Madrid. After the recent Muslim takeover, a transitional period had taken place as the city adjusted to the new governance. More and more Muslims had migrated to the city and many of the soldiers who'd journeyed there to fight had found themselves settling down instead.

Usama ibn Shameem, a man descended from the Eastern Continent resided within the city, having found employment as a worker in a restaurant quite popular with the locals. He had journeyed across the lands intent on giving da'wah and striving for Allah's sake, hoping to aid his Muslim brothers and sisters in any way that he could. He had fought in the decisive battle which gave the Muslims control in the land, and though he had desperately wished to return home to his wife and family, he had not yet been able to do so.

As it was, Usama's friend, Nizaam, had journeyed to the same land as he did, only, he was accompanied by Usama's two younger brothers as well. Being the protective older brother that he was, Usama could not bring himself to leave them behind whilst returning home himself, and so he had chosen to remain with them in the city until he could earn enough wages to afford a trip by sea for he and his brothers. Three months had passed, and though he was saving up, he still hadn't earned enough just yet. Thus, he remained within the city, working in the restaurant for another day.

As his work day began, Usama prepared the shop while a coworker of his tended to any incoming customers. He was sweeping up around the dining area when he was suddenly greeted by a familiar friend. "As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum," Usama welcomed his guest. There before him stood his good friend and traveling companion, Imran ibn Ali. He replied to the Salaams and helped himself to a seat at the counter.

"How've you been, ya Usama," Imran asked with a smile. "I haven't seen you since Eid; have you been hiding?"

"I have responsibilities, man," Usama replied, shaking his head as he continued to sweep.

"Yeah me too," Imran replied. "I finally got married, Alhamdulillah."

"Yeah. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to attend your nikah; my boss would not let me leave work at all that day."

"Is he really that strict? Must be tough working here then, huh?"

"Yes, but Alhamdulillah, it pays right? Can't complain, it's what I have to do."

"True, true. Hey, you can still make it to my walimah though; we haven't ha-"

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE," an angry customer complained down the way. Usama and Imran both turned to look in his direction, seeing him standing at the counter facing Usama's young and nervous coworker.

"Por favor, calmate, senor," the worker pleaded with the man.

"I most certainly will not calm down! How dare you tell me what-"

"Hey, what's going on here?" Usama interjected. He stood beside the customer in a neutral stance, hoping to dissolve all tension and avoid any conflict. His coworker looked at him appreciatively as the angry customer turned to face him momentarily.

"Nothing of concern to the likes of you," the man spat. Usama exhaled softly, working to keep his composure as he knew exactly where the situation was heading. It was the same type of situation he'd been in before; a disgruntled patron coming in with complete disrespect and offense to him due to the simple fact that he was a Muslim in their Christian lands. After being conquered, many of the locals felt an increase in hatred for the Muslims in their city, especially towards those who had not been natives in the first place. Nonetheless, Usama knew to deal with the situation as diplomatically and professionally as possible.

"Sir, I am the assistant manager of this restaurant," Usama calmly spoke. "It is my duty to handle any customer dissatisfaction issues and resolve any conflicts here. So, with all due respect, whatever is going on here is indeed something of concern to me. Now please, kindly tell me what the matter here is so that I may work to provide a solution for you."

"You wish to know my issue? My issue is that you desert dwelling ragheads have come to our land and taken over. You think that you can tell me what I can or can't eat?!"


"He ordered oreja a la plancha," Usama's coworker explained. "That's grilled pig's ear."

"Sir," Usama began, clasping his hands together and letting out a sigh. "Pork is no longer served in this establishment. As you know, pork, alcohol, and other haram foods have been outlawed in this city and it is not permissible to sell or buy them here."

"Yes, because of your people," the man snarled. "El Dios,* do away with them! El Mesías* will return someday and The Cross will reign supreme! You people may be in charge now but this is not the end of it!" With that, the man stormed off, leaving Usama and his coworker shaking their heads. The men got back to work and Imran walked over beside Usama.

"Hm, poor misguided man," Imran said with a shrug. "When the Messiah (peace be upon him) returns, he most certainly will not be here to support the Cross and their ilk."

"No, he won't," Usama agreed. "However, I think that man is right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"This is not the end of it all. We Muslims may have conquered this land now but by no means have we attained certainty. I think everything is still rather tentative. These people have been subjugated but the resentment is still present and there is still dissent. Allahu 'Alam, but I think the way this governor, Abu Badr, is enforcing his rule isn't the most efficient way to establish control."

"What do you mean by that, ya Usama?"

"He is imposing the rules of Islam on a people who are not yet Muslims."

"Yes, to establish justice and maintain a proper society."

"That may be true, but for some who have not yet adjusted, this is turning them away from Islam. It's almost as though every act of force he does only increases them in stubborn defiance and hatred of Islam. When the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) sent his companion Muadh ibn Jabal (may Allah be pleased with him) to Yemen, he said to him, 'Make things easy and do not make things difficult. Give glad tidings and do not repel people. Cooperate with each other and do not become divided.' If imposing all of these laws that the people find disagreeable is repelling them, I think he should find a better way."

"The people will adjust, but I do not think that there should any delay in enforcing the proper laws of Islam. If it means that a few people will be upset for about a few things, so be it. Allowing them to continue as they were with no changes would mean the governor is sinning himself. Have you not read in the Quran that Allah says to help one another in goodness and piety, not evil deeds?"

"But they don't believe them to be sins."

"Ah, but the Law of Allah is incumbent upon everyone, whether they believe it or not. What is haram for us is haram for them. I think our governor has made the right choice in banning all of the haram products that he has; otherwise, he would be questioned about why he allowed it on the Day of Judgment."

"And where does it end? If he coerces them into submission, they will never believe. And even if, as you say, what is haram for us is haram for them, then what of their beliefs? Surely we find them disagreeable. Will Abu Badr then outlaw the practice of any Deen but Islam? Didn't Allah say that there is no compulsion in religion?"

"I think you may be overthinking it, Usama. There is indeed no compulsion in religion, and thus, no one will be forced to believe in Islam. However, as Islam is a complete way of life including laws for governance, the person in authority must put those laws into practice. These laws apply to the community as a whole and are in place to maintain order and the wellbeing of all peoples; that takes precedence over any individual beliefs or customs."

"Allahu 'Alam," Usama said with a sigh. "Isn't the purpose to spread Islam and bring peace to the land? Or is it only to control and dominate the peoples to establish what we consider order?"

"Establishing order and dominance through the spread of Islam will certainly bring about peace," Imran replied. "The two ideals are not mutually exclusive."

"To some they may just be," Usama said, not wishing to argue any further. "Nonetheless, I just pray for peace and order in all the Muslim lands."

"That will certainly come someday."


25 Dhul-Hijjah 1663

As the sun was setting on the final day of Muhammad's journey, he felt eager to return home. He had almost reached the village which lie just before his home, and he couldn't wait to go and see his wife. All that had prevented him from riding through the town and going to his beloved Munirah was a hadith which Ishaq had narrated to him. He informed him of a hadith in which the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) warned men who had been away on a journey for an extensive amount of time not to return at night lest they startle their wives. "In another narration," Ishaq continued in a calm manner. "It also says so that the one with unkempt hair may comb it and a woman may prepare herself for her husband. So do not rush, send word of your arrival in the morrow and we will go soon enough."

Not wishing to disobey something which the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) himself had advised, Muhammad chose to follow with Ishaq's plan. And so it was that for one final night, he camped outside in his tent under the many stars. It was a restless night for him; he was too excited to finally return home. With his leaf-bound book of poems in his hand, Muhammad drafted another letter to his beloved wife.

Fajr came soon enough, and thereafter, it was almost sunrise. Muhammad had kept all of his belongings packed and ready to go; he even left his horse saddled throughout the entire night. When the sun had risen and he knew for certain that the people of the village would be fully awakened and starting their days, Muhammad called for Ishaq to join him as he continued on.

They reached the town within an hour and received a warm welcome from those who had recognized him. He received many questions about his journey and his two companions from before, but he was not so eager to discuss those details. With a promise to tell it all at another time, Muhammad freed himself from any drawn out conversations with the village folk. There was only one person within the village that he was hoping to speak with, and when he found him, he did not waste any time with pleasantries.

"As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum wa Rahmatullah," Muhammad greeted the elderly man as he rode up to him on his horse.

"Wa ‘Alaikumus Salaam wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh, ya akhi," the man replied in a raspy voice. "Alhamdulillah, Allah has returned you safely I see."

"Indeed," Muhammad said before clearing his throat and dismounting his horse. He shook hands with the man and introduced him to Ishaq before getting straight to business. "As you recall, we had an agreement concerning my wife and your daughter keeping her company, no?"


"And has she done so?"

"Yes, of course. They have become good friends, Alhamdulillah. In fact my daughter is with her now, though I believe she will return here soon enough."

"Excellent. And my wife, how does she fare? Has she been well?"

"I'm sorry but I do not know all of the details of her living; though I have been told that she is in good health now."

"Now? Has she fallen ill again in recent times?"

"For a little while, but I think you had better ask her about that yourself."

"Yes, I shall. I will go and see her shortly; however, there is one last matter which I hope is not a bother to you."

"And what is that?" Muhammad looked to Ishaq and before he could begin to explain the man gave a nod of understanding. "Ah, yes, your companion. He has traveled rather far, has he not? A Muslim brother from another land; most certainly he is welcome among us."

"Did you hear that, ya Ishaq," Muhammad turned to his companion. "You have been welcomed to stay in this village."

"I thank you for your kindness," Ishaq began before dismounting the camel. "However, I must decline your offer. As I have explained to him once before, I came here only to ensure that my companion returned safely to his home; as for myself, I have no home in this land, and so I will soon take my leave from here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the man replied understandingly. Muhammad, however, twisted his face in confusion.

"Wait, what now?" he uttered all at once. "You have no home, and so you are leaving? I do not think that you have understood what has been said. You are welcome to stay within the village, permanently. This can be your home, ya akhi. You will no longer need to wander about or scavenge for food. You will be provided shelter and you may perhaps settle down and marry. Is that not what you want?"

"I have no home here," Ishaq repeated as he handed the reigns of the camel over to Muhammad. "And I will not reside in a land wherein I have no home. I thank you both for your kindness and pray that Allah rewards you immensely, but I must take my leave."

"I think you should reconsider," Muhammad began before catching a glimpse of the emotionless glare in Ishaq's eyes. He could not decipher what exactly was going through the young man's mind, and that was how it was meant to be. With his turban blowing in the wind and his wooden staff held tightly in his left hand, Ishaq gave a firm handshake to Muhammad and the elder man.

"This is not my home, and so I must go. I will not settle until Allah wills it for me. Until then, I will continue my way as a traveler in this earth, and my home will be in Jannah In Shaa Allah."

"That's not what the hadith mea-"

"As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh," Ishaq said, cutting off any further argument.

"Wait, at least take the camel! It will make your transportation to wherever you are heading much easier."

"I have no need of the camel; I rode only to keep up with you. Now I shall set my own pace."

"And will you ever return to these lands, ya akhi?"

"Allahu 'Alam, we shall see, my brother." With that, Muhammad had no further questions and nothing more to hold him back with. He reluctantly gave in and shook hands with Ishaq one last time, repeating the Salaams with him.

"As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh."

"Wa ‘Alaikumus Salaam wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh, and may you have a happy return to your home."

"Jazakallahu Khairun, and may you find safety and many blessings in your travels; may Allah bless you with the home you seek, O Wandering Fox."

At that, Ishaq gave the closest thing he had come to a smile underneath his turban as he turned away. Muhammad crossed his arms and sighed as the young man, wielding his handy bo-staff set off into the distance. That made one more of his companions who had gone from him, and one more friend whom he wouldn't be forgetting.

As he turned back to the old man beside him, Muhammad returned to the previous conversation. They continued speaking as the man led Muhammad back to his residence. He visited with him briefly until the man's daughter returned home. It had been sufficient time, Muhammad believed, for Munirah to have learned of his return and gotten herself ready. He offered Zhuhr prayer and set out to his hut, ready to rejoin his wife at last.

He tied his horse and he tied the camel, leaving them both outside on a tree nearby. He straightened out his turban and combed his fingers through his beard, applying a little bit of attar to himself thereafter. Finally, after drawing a deep breath, Muhammad strode up to the door of his hut, knocking three times and awaiting an answer.

"As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum," he called out excitedly. There was no reply. Undeterred, he knocked again. "As-Salaamu ‘Alaik-"

"Ya Allah," Munirah cried happily as she swung open the door to meet her husband. Tears welled in her beautiful eyes as her beloved Muhammad stepped through the door, a wide grin painted on his face. She threw herself into his strong arms and he wrapped them around her, hugging her tighter than he'd ever done before. Her soft embrace was like the gentle Sun on a pleasant day; warm and comforting to every part of his body.

His heart thumped in a blissful rhythm as he closed his eyes and squeezed his wife to himself. It had been precisely six months since he had last stood beside her. Breathing in the familiar scent of her favorite perfume, he sighed contently. "O Munirah, I've missed you so," he whispered. "I've missed your feel, your scent, your voice, your presence, your... just everything! For so many, many nights I wondered if and when I would come to hold you in my arms again, and I prayed to Allah for this exact moment."

"As have I," she replied, her voice nearly cracking with joy. Muhammad pulled back only to smile at her. He kissed her forehead and she beamed at him.

"Alhamdulillah, I've returned," he said before kissing her again. "Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah!"

Before he could carry on in grateful praise, Muhammad heard a muffled cry from beyond the room. His brow was furrowed as he looked to Munirah in confusion. She opened her mouth to speak but he raised a finger requesting silence; the sound was faint and he was unsure if he had even truly heard anything. Then, as Munirah pulled away completely, she took him gently by the hand and led him to the back with a smile.

The sound grew louder, and as Munirah pushed through a heavy curtain in the back, a piercing wail bombarded Muhammad's ears. This, however, was not the only surprise for the unsuspecting man, as he soon found his wife bending over a small basket with a little bundle wrapped up inside. Without a word, Muhammad stepped forward, his heart beating in his ears as his wife picked up that white bundle and turned to him.

His lungs nearly failed him as he could hardly breathe, trying to gasp and choke back tears all at once. There in her arms, Munirah held a beautiful baby boy, his cream-colored hands reaching up as he continued to cry. Muhammad could hardly believe it, even as Munirah placed the baby in his arms. Their baby. His son.

His creamy-brown complexion was like the honeyish color of his mother, and the rest of his features were like a mix of both of his parents. From the tiny little ears to the soft, curly, black hair, he resembled his father. His button nose and chubby cheeks were just like his mother's, and his lips, full and plump matched perfectly to his father's. There was a certain glow about him that finally brought tears to Muhammad's eyes and indescribable joy to his heart.

"His name is Ahmad," Munirah announced as her husband cooed over his baby. Though the child continued to cry, Muhammad's face was bright with a smile as he whispered his name under his breath.

"Ahmad." He was well pleased with the name, it being another name for the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) whom he himself was named after. Though there were countless questions and thoughts running through his mind, Muhammad could focus only on repeating the baby's name. Each time he said it, his grin grew wider and he laughed a little to himself.

Munirah smiled contently, making a silent du'ah to her Lord. She was so grateful to have her husband home, and she was well pleased that her son had finally met his father after only weeks of living. Muhammad was glad to be home, and he almost whined when he had to hand the baby over for feeding. Everything felt like a dream to him, and when the baby had left his arms he almost worried that it would end like his dreams before. But alas, it was a great reality. His journey had finally ended and he was home again. He had his wife, Munirah, and his newborn son, Ahmad. After all of the struggling and all of the fighting for Allah's sake, he had come home to a pleasant surprise. Indeed, he was most grateful for his journey's completion. His journey's end...

29 Dhul-Hijjah, 1663

The heavy wooden doors swung open with a mighty force, slamming against the walls with a loud bang. The room was dim with an orange glow as several small candle flames danced in the wind. There was a large throne resting in the middle of a circle of candles, matching with the red interior of room. Upon the throne sat a sinister figure; his commanding presence enough to crush the spirits of men. He held tightly to a golden scepter, its jeweled head holding two sharply curved wing-blades.

Though the shadows concealed most of his malevolent features, the light of the dancing flames flickered in his left eye, glowing as a deep red blaze. He looked to the entrance with an expectant gaze, well pleased to see the man summoned before him. The heavy doors shut and the men were consumed in silent darkness.

The shadowy man beckoned for his guest to approach him, and after taking three steps forward, the man knelt before him. Sitting proudly on his throne, Kwaade felt pleased with himself. With his chest puffed up in pride, he addressed the man in a deep voice. "Ztidaar Al-Koobraa, you have come at last," he spoke.

"Yes, O Noble Emperor," the man humbly replied. "I am ever at your service."

"Indeed you are. I have certainly found you to be reliable in the past, and now I think it is time that I make use of your services once more."

"What is it that you wish of me, O Noble Emperor?"

"There is a man who has caused me great trouble in recent times."

"One of your servants, O Emperor?"

"No, or do you think that the people could defy my esteemed rule?"

"No sir, forgive me. I meant only to gather all information."

"Well enough. The man is not from amongst my subjects; rather he is from the wretched followers of Islam."

"Ah, another Muslim I see."


"Is it perhaps that troublesome Amir of theirs? Or perhaps another general from amongst them?"

"No, rather this man is a nameless peasant."

"A peasant? And he has caught your esteemed attention?"

"Yes, for you see, it is because of him that I have suffered a succession of unfortunate losses. This man has come from the desert all of a sudden and taken down several of our allies in various lands. Within months, he took down our Ikeqi allies in the Western Continent, turned out one of our villages, and even seized a sizeable territory in the Northern Continent, despite our alliance with the Christian governor, Juan Gutierrez."

"Could it truly be so? A peasant has defeated your mighty armies?"

"Yes, indeed it is. All accounts from these incidents report his presence amongst the main forces."

"Who is this man?"

"There are no reports of his name; however, he has been spotted more than once dressed in a green Islamic garb with a black cape and a black turban. Upon the back of his cape you will find three Arabic letters, ر ق ص. This is all the reports say of him."

"This is plenty, O Emperor."

"Excellent, then I expect that you understand what I am asking of you?"

"Yes, sir. I will find this man, and I will bring you his head."

"And if you fail?"

"I will not fail you."

"Ah, but that was the claim of my last assassin whom I sent after a general in the Peninsula, and all reports say that he was slain."

"Perhaps, but I am Ztidaar Al-Koobraa; I do not fail. When I unleash my venomous fangs, there is not a soul who lives to tell the tale. If you provide for me the necessary travel, I shall find this man and end his miserable life and his entire tribe."

"Hmph. You shall have what you require, and when you deliver his severed head, I shall reward you handsomely. However, you have three months, O Ztidaar. If you fail me, I will have you and your entire village burned in a mighty flame."

"Hmph. I am Ztidaar Al-Koobraa; I do not fail..."


El Dios: God

El Mesías: The Messiah i.e. Jesus (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him).

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