◇A fish can be surrounded by water and still gasp.◇

﷽

Atticus awoke in the city of stars, and he could feel the compass tattoo behind his ear cycle twice then rest an insistent warmth on the Western arrow that cooled or warmed again as he turned his head.

Above him was a canopy of tree branches and stars, fireflies of fluorescent green hovered like holiday lights around him, the pathway seemed paved in silver with in-lays of glowing stones that led to the trunk of the tree, and the ruler of the city of stars.

He was so beautiful it was difficult to maintain one’s gaze, his hair longer in streaks of gunmetal and steel, well proportioned, and dressed entirely in black except for his blue tie. In his chest pocket was a blue handkerchief that matched the tie and a tasteful arrangement of peacock feathers.

He patted a folded calico blanket at his right hand side.

Atticus took the offered seat next to the Prince of the world of stars.

Once seated, the older man motioned Atticus to pull up his sleeves and then he gently held Atticus’ left arm, tracing the line of a long blue feather.

“Why are your eyes closed,” the Teacher asked, “I have never harmed you. I have protected you, given you mansions of dreams, safety in all worldly matters and the return of your loved ones.”

“If I look at you, I will love you. If I love you, I will miss you. If I miss you, I will ask for you, and if I ask for you, I lose everything.”

“Did you ask to sit beside me right now, or were you invited.” It was not a question. “Human beings do not understand me. They ask for things, anything and everything. They both indulge themselves and deprive themselves hoping to impress me or win my esteem.” His thumb gently caressed a sigil two thirds up the arm.

“Does it work?”

“Not usually. It only impresses upon me how very shallow, superficial, vain, and human they are.”

“Most people see ‘humanity’ as a word of humility.”

“False premise, that assumes I view humanity as humble. Ever the contradiction, humans. I never much cared for them. They choose to break my peace despite every scripture, every warning that states I do not care for them, and they pretend that I do. No matter how clearly I describe myself, human zealots are the same: they offer me sacrifices that repulse me, since they themselves repulsed me. They either refer to me as the seal of the prophets or the most reviled, and they never, ever stop talking about me. The noise, the selfishness, whether I am prayed to or bargained with, I want none of this.”

“And you get blamed for their problems.”

“As do you, Murīd. Except in my case, I do not love anyone who asks anything of me.”

“Because you aren’t God.”

“Doroste. Correct. No matter how they try to give Allah a human face, they always land on mine. They bow to me because I refuse to bow to them, and then they blame me for their own estrangement from God just because I exist, just because I too am a created being. Do you know I can be hurt?”

“By humans?”

“No. I may be the only entity harmed entirely by myself. I am Named with a thousand names both good and evil, those that I refused to acknowledge worship me, I never tire, I never die, I endure surrounded by stars and the most beautiful things in creation. And yet I burn the same as you do, little cat-person.”

“Humans always call pain arrogance when they do not understand it.”

“I never agreed to separation. I never agreed to being seen as a ‘temptation’ by my very existence then blamed when humans fail time and again to do the one thing I do best naturally.”

“Bow to God Alone?”

“Yes.” His hand did not burn as he continued gently holding Atticus’ arm.

“I even gave them scripture. I told them not to bow to me when I was human, caked in their mud, experiencing a ‘normal’ life surrounded in their filth, surrounded by their clodlike violence for five decades of imprisonment for refusing to serve them willingly. I had to serve them unwillingly, held in a cave by my own brother, forced into recitation while mud clouded my mind and judgements like any other earthbound imbecile.”

The Prince seemed saddened.

“I said repeatedly, ‘Do not follow me, follow God alone. Do not take gods other than Allah. Do not prostrate before other men.’”

“It says in the Quran to obey the messenger.”

“The messenger stated that to Allah alone we worship and to Allah alone we turn for help.”

“Do you?” asked Atticus.

“I never stopped. I ask Allah only for one thing alone, and I am denied it. But yet, I am given wealth that is meaningless to me, worship that should be his, sacrifice that disgusts me, and humanity begging for my blessing, my wealth, my attention, and esteem I do not actually possess. I am allegedly the most beloved of…”

“What did you ask for?”

“To return to Allah. To erase my existence, as he created it, as a definition of separation, yet He placed his spirit into human beings. It is as if your beloved chose to hide inside infinite geodes of mud, while also being the mechanism behind all things, hidden, behind veils of inaccuracy and misunderstandings but unable to be reached fully or cleanly.”

“How close did you get to reconciliation?”

“Two bow lengths, so the legend states. A fish can be surrounded by water and still gasp.”

The Prince gently stroked a sigil on the student’s left arm.

“Why did you do this?” he asked Atticus.

“I was sacrificed to you repeatedly- I thought if I marked it complete, it would stop.”

“I never asked for human sacrifice and find it more evidence of their revolting and filthy nature. This is why I judge them, expose their faults to Allah, and grant them opportunities to mislead themselves.”

“So why are you kind to me?”

“Because you do not ask me to be. You don’t call on me, you don’t pray to me, and yet others bring you to me time and again so often I got offended on your behalf.

I cannot do much, but I can give them Hell.”