Scene _ 1
Sheikh Bakathir stepped out of the mosque after the dawn prayer, leaving behind the serenity of the place, which seemed to bid him farewell in silence. He closed the wooden door firmly behind him, and the echo of the wood reverberated through the empty corridors of the mosque—like a faint warning of an approaching venture.
Outside, a group of islanders stood in tight rows, their faces tense, their hands gripping old weapons, their eyes fixed on Sheikh Bakathir with a peculiar blend of respect and curiosity. It was no ordinary scene; the island’s cold post‑dawn air filled the lungs, the salty smell of the sea mixed with the scent of soil and rock, giving the place an aura of mystery and tension.
Sheikh Bakathir and the island’s elders began walking cautiously along the rocky di
