#Codex Zumar

[moonlitminaret]

🫖The ink has just settled on Chapter Two, and I couldn’t be happier! Slowly but surely, this world is unfurling beneath my fingertips. Every sentence feels like another stone laid in the streets of Zumar. But more specifically, within the walls of the little tea shop at the end of a certain street called Saffron Dreams.

Here’s a little peek at what’s brewing:

‘You’re still awake,’ she observed, her voice soft but brisk as she crossed to him. Her fingers moved with the quiet competence of someone who’d done this before—unwinding the dressing at his side, checking the wound, reapplying the salve with gentle, practised strokes.

Ka'ele could have spoken. He could have baited her, called her little flame again, just to watch the irritation spark in her eyes. But there was something about the way she worked now—silent, careful, as though handling a story more fragile than glass—that stilled his tongue.

‘You’ll live,’ she murmured, stepping back, her hands finally falling away from him. ‘Rest. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Here’s to the slow and steady build. Here’s to falling in love with our own stories, one heartbeat at a time. ✨

[foggynightdonut]

Order of Revelation after surah Az Zumar is the same with Uthmanic Codex

[moonlitminaret]

🕯️ A candle flickers in the minaret’s window

🗝️ Codex Zumar | Entry 001

It is said that Zumar remembers. Stones hold grudges, doors mutter secrets, and the tea never forgets who brewed it last.

When you walk its streets, you do not simply pass through—you are marked, folded into the city’s story whether you consent or not.

A Local Saying: “Careful where you step—Zumar has long memories and sharp corners.”

Some say the cobblestones shift when no one is looking. Some know that it’s true.

☾ Archived under: Codex Zumar | Observations of the City

More to come when the bell rings again. 🔔

[moonlitminaret]

🕯️ A candle flickers in the minaret’s window

🌙✨ Snippet Sunday | Chapter One Complete ✨🌙

The first chapter of LSiS is finished, and the tea leaves are steeping just right. Below, a small glimpse from within the walls of Zumar’s sentient tea house—where warnings linger like incense, and every word might be a warding spell.

🫖

When it came to words, however, some stuck to Leila’s ribs like honeyed tea leaves. Words her grandmother had carved into the tea house’s very bones: ‘Beware the man who drinks his tea too slowly—his patience is either poison or prophecy.’

Zumar watches. The tea listens. And Leila is about to learn that not all wisdom is meant to soothe.

📖 Follow along for more tales from the Moonlit Minaret. The world is only just beginning to unfurl.

☾ From the archives of LSiS. More shall unfold when the bell next rings. (Codex of Zumar updates coming soon.)