This is the Land(DISCONTINUED)

Part 2

~*~SPOILER~*~

It is on this day that the blood defeated the sword; when the ideologically oppressed stood up to defend their right to believe, to practice truth, and to live free of suppression and propaganda. It is on this day that an entire family was sacrificed for standing up to tyranny; when a group of 72 was killed after three days of thirst and hunger; when a six month old child was hit with a three pronged arrow, merely for being the son of a Deg fender of Justice, when the bodies of men were trampled and left on the plains of Karbala; when falsehood never reeked so obviously and truth never seemed more beautiful. It is on this day that the blood defeated the sword and truth came alive with death.

                                                                                    ~~Sumiya Baqri~~

~*~SPOILER END~*~

~~Hussain’s POV~~

I walked back to his house and looked for the letter. It was lying open on my desk, just where I left it.

Master,

I have arrived in Kufa safely by the grace of God and was welcomed very graciously. The excitement of the people upon hearing of your arrival is unspeakable. I met many of the men who had written in hopes of your coming. They cannot wait to lay their eyes upon your horse coming through the gate of the city of your father. More than 22 000 men have given allegiance to you on my hand. We are all anxiously awaiting you. Make haste towards Kufa.

Your Servent and brother,

Muslim s/o Aqeel

The good news brought by the letter was almost ironic. How was Muslim so happy by the faith of the Kufans when he was aware of how frail their allegiance was? I laughed bitterly when I read the letter again. The city of my father indeed…

It was the city where my father was murdered in his prayer. It was the city, where my beloved brother, Hassan, was abandoned by its dwellers. It was the city of men who changed their hearts and their minds with petty fears and grand rewards. I feared for Muslim’s safety at that moment.

I sighed and stood up. Focus! There was too much work to be done to worry.

 “Abbas!”

Abbas was there, as if he had never left at all. Which was probably true. I looked with pride at my younger brother. My brother. Even though he was more than two decades younger than me, I could never remember a time when he hadn’t stood by my side. He was always there, in all the battles with my father, the time father had died, the time Hassan’s funeral procession had been ambushed, the time --- came to try to get my allegiance.

**Flashback**

“Hussain s/o Ali, will you or will you not give allegiance to Yazid s/o Muwaviya?”

“I am Hussain s/o Ali, I am the descendant of the founder of Islam, the last prophet, I am the son of Fatima, the lady of Light, I am the son of the Ali, the true caliph, the brother of the prophet, the lion of God, the Commander of the Faithful, the talking Quran. I am the true owner of the robe of Caliphate. I am the one the prophet used to carry on his shoulders. It is me and my brother of whom the Prophet said, ‘Hassan and Hussain are the leaders of the youth of Paradise.’ I am the Defender of truth and Justice. I am the Imam of the time. One like me can never give allegiance to one like him”

“If you will not give your allegiance willingly, we will take it by force!”

“Abbas!”

Abbas came running from the room next door with his sword drawn, his brothers on his sides. He pointed his sword at ---- and simply said,