Afrodelic
Loremaster
Beyond the markets and in the far distance, once can make out a gathering crowd watching as Esebius is walked through Al-Khadir. Some folks turning to investigate what is spurning the crowd into action.
As any other day in Anjyarr, the city of Al-Khadir was awake and bustling with movement. Vendors at work. Fishers casting their nets. And commoners wandering the streets. Though uncertainty has been flowing with all the political turmoil that has been unfolding in the past days. The people still toiled away as they must. There was no social ease in these times, but there was a need for survival. Whether in the heat of the open and beating desert sun, or the cool verandas that so many sat under to catch a break. The ease of the day did not make itself remotely evident, literally or figuratively.
As the great sun beat down on the city built by an oasis, a noise would break through the hustle and bustle. Shouts of concern and dismay from an older ‘lunn. These shouts broke through the streets twice, once in the day and once in the evening. Though the make of the figures dragging the older ‘lunn were clear, for their Jundi uniforms blazed in the light of the day. It was the figure being dragged that many wandered on. For they could only make note of his appearance as he was taken past them. The ‘lunn being dragged was himself the noted political dissident and scholar, Esebius. This was evident by his red and blue garbs noticeably disheveled by the arrest. For even his recognizable yellow sash was stripped from his body. The ‘lunn scholar was being grabbed by his wrists, as two individuals, seemingly Azari’lunn themselves, pulled him along the sun-beaten stoney street, as they were followed by another individual.
The shouts started all the way from the square that housed the Al-Khadir Library and Theater and finished near the barracks on the Eastern side of Al-Khadir. The cries for aid, as the people would have heard, were mired in the rhetoric that Esebius’ letters were enwrapped with. Though none took any direct steps to intervene. Many bore witness through sight or hearing. And they would be the ones to truly recount the tell, whether in excess or simplicity.
In Esebius’ first dragging across the city. Each word was spoken with seeming pain tinged in them. The scholar nearly exasperated his lungs so that all who could hear in Al-Khadir would hear. The contents of the shouts, though likely recounted by many from others, went along the lines of:
“See how they take me! This false heir! Kill an old lunn they plan to! Without just cause! Without the people! No humility in form! No care for our rights! They kill for their own ends! And so I will pass soon! But know! My love is firm in the Azari’lunn! For the future that is to arrive! This corruption shall cease! We shall be freed!”
These words would be heard in the less tighter older quarters of Al-Khadir. But as they made their way across the bridge that divided the city, they would arrive in the newer quarters. The streets tighter in their make, and Esebius’ face and shouts much easier to make out for those watching. The scholar would continue to shout as he was forcefully led by the guards.
“This false prince dares to kill me! Dares to quell the plight of a people tired of this unjust cause! And I receive no trial! Hear me, people! Hear me! Rise from your slumbers! They take me to the gallows! O’ my love for you Anjyarr! So pure in form! I die for thee at heart! Again and again! Anjyarr! I love thee true! Watch them kill me! Death comes for those seeking freedom! And the wicked remain on the stolen path! The wicked govern! Arise people! Arise! Free us!”
Though the words were not all spoken in grand unison, since each respective sentence was heard at specific sections of the scholar’s excursion. A clear message was evident. Though the city was still caught in the business of the day, those that bore witness could attest that it was the same Esebius that countless have been talking of. The older lunn scholar who once served the Sultana and so commonly worked in the library. The people would clamor about the events as the hot day unfolded, yet in time would return to their work.
The next bout of shouts would be heard in the hours before twilight. This time Esebius would be guided only through the newer quarters of Al-Khadir. His shouting started from the barracks and ended near the wall somewhere. If there were people that could see past the dark, they would note a partial trail of dark matter following the older ‘lunn, as this time he was being forcefully dragged through the street.
"They take me now to the gallows! These deceitful bunch! Traitors to the people! Bound by their own wants and greed!”
Though his words were much shorter and more exasperated in their make. It was likely that not many were too privy to arise and witness the night-time transfer with their eyes. Those that did would note that Esebius’ location was likely being changed. Whether word would spread of his message was of trivial matter. For the simple fact is, the dissident was caught and bound by the military. If he had already died or was to die did not rest in certainty. But his attempts to have the people hear his cries were made. And so the tension in Anjyarr only grows more and more. The hope of a tomorrow to be set by the courses that transpire in the coming days. Though one thing is for certain, news would travel quickly across Anjyarr. Whether it travels beyond the borders is a question for others to decide. But one thing is for certain: Esebius has been captured.
As the days went on, not much would be heard on the matters of the imprisoned scholar. Yet many within Al-Khadir spoke. Their words filled with the worries to come, and others spoke of the hopes that might transpire. It would be only a few days after that a wounded and bloodied lunn wearing tattered red garbs was seen walking off from Al-Khadir and into the Anjyarri desert. Some claim it is Esebius, while others merely chalking it up to hearsay. What is to come, none truly know, but the matters of Anjyarr are surely not settled.
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