[A letter to Alejandro Benjazar.]

[Erudiche]

Alejandro,

I am sorry we were not able to speak today. Emergent matters stole my attention away. Forgive me, if you would, and I hope this copy of Bori Shad's Power and Politics in the Emergent Qadiran State will interest you.

Domhnall

[The letter is accompanied by a small, thin book. Falling from between its pages is a simple note.]

[Don Nadie]

[Alejandro peruses the treatise with a little smile. After mumbling something about no accounting for taste, he pens his own reply.]

Domhnall,

Worry not. Hearing some of the results of the night in the Bellows, I suspect you may have already an inkling of some of the topics I wished to discuss. We'll speak whenever there's a chance.

Yours,

Alejandro

[Don Nadie]

[The book finds his way back to the Pyramid.]

Domhnall,

I swear I tried... But the calculations of grain imports, port-taxation, and percentages to criminals, pirates and the rest was too much for me. I am, as I believe I have stated repeatedly, way too pretty for mathematics.

Yours,

Alejandro

[A little paper has been folded within the book]

[Don Nadie]

Domhnall,

If you find yourself with time in your schedule, call for me. I have a few ideas to discuss.

Yours,

Alejandro

[Don Nadie]

[A little letter arrives at the Pyramid]

Domhnall,

In the middle of so many dark tidings, you may enjoy Salamiz al'Euri's "Ten Satyrical Poems", said to have been composed during the reign of Feydsiyyar I. They are funny, mostly. Except in the fact that the same things he critized centuries ago are still as present and enduring as ever.

Yours,

Alejandro

[A little booklet accompanies the letter. And within it, a little note.]

[Erudiche]

Alejandro,

To my sorrow and perhaps mingled pleasure, an opening has been made for you. We will find each other soon to discuss it.

As for the poetry, they were a rousing read. In some ways it is heartening to know our struggles are not singular and unheard of, and in other ways distressing to see that we struggle against a titanic condition of mankind, which predates us and the very ideas of us by centuries.

Domhnall

[Don Nadie]

Domhnall,

I am sorry to hear. I hope it is no great tragedy that created this opening, but some less onerous turn of the Wheel. Bashir also told me you wished to speak, last evening, on some other matters. I suppose we can make an evening out of it, no? It has been ages since we had some falafel on the rooftops of the Well.

This reminds me I should tell you of the serious conversation Caddy had with me. You will, I suspect, find it extremely amusing.

Regarding the poetry, you are of course right: it speaks of how difficult transformation is, the structures that enable injustice so thoroughly ossified that they seem eternal. However, there's another aspect to it: the ever-burning flame of rebellion. While his "Ten Satirical Poems" were compossed during the reign of Feydsiyyar I, famous for being the one caliph who knew how to party, Salamiz al'Euri was an old man who had lived also through the reign of the stern, book-burning and oppresive even by monarchical standards Feyd I. Scholars presume (and I am inclined to agree) that al'Euri's earlier publications were only a fragment of his real production... And that he was the anonymous author behind some of the most bitting (and censored) songs of the time, such as "The Caliphs Bookshelf" and the tragically lost epic "A Meditation Upon the Sublime Monarch's Fat Arse".

Thus, while the foibles of human nature remain, there is also something to be said for the constant nature of our rebellioness, the clarity with which we see oppresion and idiocy and cackle, defiantly. That thrones have lasted centuries, but never quite managed to douse that flame... It speaks, to me, of hope. And the possibility of changing, into something better.

But apologies, I realize I am making this letter overlong. I suppose it just speaks of how I look forward to speak, in person. It is rare the day I wouldn't wish to share a word, or two, or a hundred. So let us find some time, soon, and a quiet place.

Yours,

Alejandro