In the potter's village: Chapter - 6

In front of them, and the innocently watching Karim, was a scene playing itself out in truly unaffected glory. It was not entirely human, and not entirely mortal, the meaning of what their eyes read to them at that instant.

The little hut, with no furnishing whatsoever, had Rahman kneeling at its centre, gently bowing to a light that seemed to unfurl out of itself, in a continuous, unrelenting song of power, grace and majesty. It was a sight that instilled an overwhelming sense of fear and awe into its onlookers. For minutes, both Karim and the priests stood frozen at their positions, unable to make sense of what it was they were witnessing. Finally, Rahman broke the deafening silence, asking the light what he was to do, in a tone that was in contrast to his usually elevated self. His voice bore the signs of a continuous and unconditional surrender, albeit without the flavour of resignation that one may have expected to find.
This question was followed by a long and pregnant silence, which would be breached by a voice that would send shivers down the spines of all the assembled bystanders. It was a loud, bellowing voice, which emanated from the very centre of that regenerating mass of light. It said, "It is not yet time for you to leave. There are eyes and ears to these walls, which shall guide you to your destiny."

Both Karim and the priests jumped back at the allusion made to them. They stuttered backwards, and then fled back to the village along the respective paths that they had taken.

While Karim was intrigued by what he saw, convinced that the incident was key to the question that had been haunting his very existence for over 3 years now, the priests felt they finally had one key accusation to make against the seemingly flawless potter; A convenient mix of idol worship, blasphemy and bigotry. It was armed with this weapon, that they headed to work the next morning.

Said next day passed off just as planned by the priests. After a closed doors meeting with the king and his court, a decree was issued against the potter, denouncing him as an outlaw who had offended the holy word of the Lord, and indulged in practices earning him the title of infidel. A prize of 100 gold coins was placed on his head, and within hours he was presented at the royal palace with a line of claimants on the reward money. The priests smiled at their partial victory, for it had been a long and arduous task till now, which seemed on the verge of delivering the results they had set out to accomplish.