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Updated: June 18, 2025
His tall figure had vanished as utterly as any of the phantom shapes in Al-Kyris, only that, far from being spectre- like, he had seemed more actually a living personality than any of the people in the streets who were hurrying to and fro on their various errands of business or pleasure.
This was Khosrul, the Prophet of a creed that was to revolutionize the world, the fanatic for a faith as yet unrevealed to men, the dauntless foreteller of the downfall of Al-Kyris and its King!
Hush! ... What was that? ... What did it mean? ... Halting abruptly, he gave a wild glance round him, up to the sky, where the flaring flames spread in tangled lengths and webs of light, . . then, straight before him to the City of Al-Kyris, now a wondrous vision of redly luminous columns and cupolas, with the wet gleam of the river enfolding its blazing streets and towers: . . and while he yet beheld it, lo!
Answer me, thou stranger to the city of Al-Kyris! ... Has God taught THEE the way to Everlasting Life?"
"Nay, I have only served thee as a crowned Laureate should ever serve a lesser minstrel," he said, with that indescribably delicious air of self-flattery which was so whimsical, and yet so winning, "And I tell thee in all good faith that, for a newly arrived visitor in Al-Kyris, thy first venture was a reckless one!
Thy name was on all men's mouths, ... thou wert honored by kings, ... thou wert the chief glory of a great people, ... great though misled by their own false opinions, ... and the City of Al-Kyris, of which thou wert the enshrined jewel, was mightier far than any now built upon the earth!
Theos at once joined him, and the two friends, holding each other fast by the arm, gazed down on the silent, mighty multitude around them, a huge concourse of the citizens of Al-Kyris, who, strange as this part of their behavior seemed, still paid no heed to the presence of their Laureate, but with pale, rapt faces and anxious, frightened eyes, riveted their attention entirely on the sombre, black- garmented Prophet whose thin ghostly arms, outstretched above them, appeared to mutely invoke in their behalf some special miracle of mercy.
Woe unto Al-Kyris, for she hath suffered herself to be led astray by her rulers! ... she hath drunken deep of the innocent blood and hath followed after idols, . . her abominations are manifold and the hearts of her young men and maidens are full of evil!
For, concerning the matter of attire, are not the fashions of Al-Kyris copied more or less badly in every quarter of the habitable globe? even as our language and literature form the chief study and delight of all scholars and educated gentlemen? A truce to your discussions!
This was a problem which Theos longed to investigate and yet recoiled from, instinctively he felt that upon its answer hung the fate of Al-Kyris, and also, what just then seemed more precious than anything else, the life of Sah-luma. He could not decide with himself WHY this was so, he simply accepted his own inward assurance that so it was.
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