đ Qur'anic Verse:
"Indeed, Allah commands you to render trusts to whom they are due and when you judge between people to judge with justice."
â Surah An-Nisa (4:58)
It was the day of the vote.
But it did not feel like a day of politics.
It felt like judgment.
The skies were overcast.
The wind had a weight to it.
And Nurhal, for the first time in months, was silent.
No drums.
No chants.
No children running in the alleys.
Just waiting.
The Two Visions
In the council hall, they gathered.
Idris, in plain robes.
Nasira, cloaked in white and gold.
The other seven council members, each with their own storm inside.
The proposal was simple in ink.
But monumental in meaning.
"To restructure the Council of Nurhal by electing a Chair of Executive Authority, with powers of immediate decision in matters of security, order, and reform."
A throne in all but name.
And Nasira stood ready to sit.
Before the Vote
As the council prepared, a few words were permitted.
Zaynab stood first.
"I have walked this city for years. I have tended its wounds. And I have seen how powerâno matter how nobleâpulls. It pulls at intention⊠and it pulls at truth. So be cautious what you crown."
Then Bahir:
"We fear disorder, yes. But we must also fear silence. Idris is noble. Nasira is bold. But what we need today⊠is not a leader. We need a guardian."
Finally, Nasira rose.
"I do not ask for power. I ask for responsibility. This city is not a poem. It is a place of people. Of needs. Of dangers. Let us no longer be afraid to act with strength."
She sat.
All eyes turned to Idris.
Idris Does Not Stand
He did not rise.
Did not raise his voice.
He merely spoke from where he sat, hands resting in his lap.
"When Sayyiduna Umar became leader, he weptânot out of pride, but fear.
Because to lead is to answer to Allah for every soul beneath your shadow."
"If Nurhal wishes a chair to command, choose her. She is brave, intelligent, and sincere in what she believes."
"But if you seek someone who will remind you that power must answer to principle, and action to accountability, then I will continue to serve quietly."
Then, he folded his hands.
And the chamber was still.
The Vote
One by one, the council members dropped their stones into the two urns:
White for Nasira.
Clay-red for Idris.
The sound of stone on brass.
Eight times.
Zaynab, last.
She held her stone longer than the rest.
Then let it fall.
The keeper lifted the lids.
Five white.
Three red.
Nasira had won.
After the Tally
There was no applause.
Just a nod.
Nasira stepped forward, bowed to the people, and spoke only three words:
"Let us begin."
Idris stood, walked to her, and said softly:
"May Allah keep you upright under the weight of it."
She looked at himânot with triumph, but with something more complicated.
Gratitude. Regret. Resolve.
Outside the Hall
Word spread fast.
Some celebrated.
Others mourned.
Most simply moved on.
Nurhal had chosen structure. Order. A shield.
And Idris?
He stepped backânot out of spite, but trust.
Trust in Qadr.
Trust in the people.
And trust that the light never belongs to a single hand.
That Night
At the Lantern Tower, Idris lit the city's flame one more time.
Not as ruler.
Not as leader.
Just as a servant of light.
And far below, among the rooftops, a small boy watching him whispered:
"He doesn't need a title."
"He is Nurhal."
End of Chapter 29