The Freedom to Come - An Open Letter to Anjyarr




The gathered masses within Al-Khadir discussing and reading the letter supposedly from Esebius.
In the high rise of the morning, letters would be nailed into respective walls throughout Al-Khadir and Al-Jabrid. The people would be gathered and discussing the words before them. Some arguing that its contents must be a ruse, while others claimed that the script was authentic in its make. Not but weeks past did folks recount Esebius' very capture. Though others stated rather openly that they saw him leave Al-Khadir walking into the desert. With great arguments, it was only the signature that offered hope to the masses, as it aligned with the ink and strokes of the other letters offered by the Azari'lunn scholar. But one thing is for certain, a letter penned with the same rhetoric that the scholar had used was penned and offered to the masses. Its contents would read as follows:
To the people of Anjyarr,

I write to you now. Beaten and battered. Tortured and held. Mutilated. But alive nonetheless. Carried by a will greater than my own. Carried by the masses that hold me still. I breathe, my kin, my friends, for you all. I write. And I write to you all so that you know my plight is not mine alone. It is our plight, as a people forgotten. But no longer shall our will remain unspoken.

It was nearly three weeks ago that I was imprisoned by three figures: Rayyan, Iiyama, and Eol. Though Eol knew not the cause he worked for. The other two carried great pleasure in my imprisonment. Iiyama was a mere voyeur in form, while Rayyan forcefully dragged me along until this old 'lunn was bloodied. I could offer no true resistance. Cornered, I submitted to the powers that deny us, as these tyrants prefer to act outside the eyes of the masses. I screamed to you and offered my love, some of my last words.

The torment of the cells spoke, but I held myself solely through the resolve of the fight outside my confinement. I knew that I was not alone. Even if death were to come, I felt complete in my form that the masses would be roused by meager reflections from an old 'lunn. It only needed to be spoken to. For the people would realize in due course. This was what myself and my peers long felt through the centuries. But in the face of open terror, continued injustice, and unmitigated exceptions afforded to the Nobara Dynasty, the struggle only kept me here.

But even then, dear friends, they took from me something dear. They took my means of communicating through words. They denied me my right to speak any further. To express my love that I screamed in the streets during my capture. A love for a people. But my final words were to you, as the first words of this movement were: “The people shall speak, and their will shall be heard. Prepare yourself, they rise.”

Foreboding words, yet I know them to be true. For what it is to come has been cast centuries prior and shall be bore in the moments to come. A new narrative born from suffering, from denial, from tyranny. Just as the ancestors of the Azari’lunn pushed from their rightful home of the glade faced this struggle then. We too find it here. And like these ancestors, those that dare rise shall see a new way to live formulate. A new way to be.

I survived, friends. With no food beyond crumbs and droplets of water. But I survived so that these words would not be lost to time. For I hold still that the will of despots not continue to govern. And that tomorrow can bear forth something different. My lack of tongue. My many wounds. The blood I have bore. All is nothing compared to the struggle that we have faced with these tyrants. And due to that, I shall continue this fight with all the friends we have collected along the way. A new Anjyarr is to come. A new way for the Azari’lunn. A new way for the deserts. A new way for Eden. A new narrative.

I tire now, the wounds healing still. But even in this false respite, I know the struggle is only beginning. For no true respite will arrive until Anjyarr is freed from tyrants, from oppressive narratives, and from the false wills that instantiate great offensives against the people. I assure you that in the time to come that a more formalized plan will be penned by me on the matters to come. Though my mind is caught, dear people, by the pains that I have survived. The body must rest. I pray for you all. And know this, though the past is mottled by violence and seeming certainties. What truths seem to arrive without thought in tow are fictions born to sate the few. Our aims now move beyond that, towards many, many more people.

Until next, dear people, know that I live, breathe, and write still,