The Lost Writings of al-Razi by Maanya Pathak {Inklings Book Contest 2024 Finalist}

Today, we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2024 finalist Maanya Pathak! Maanya finished 8th grade this past school year and wrote an action-packed story called “The Lost Writings of al-Razi”. Our judges enjoyed the rich descriptions that help this story come alive. Continue below to enjoy it in digital book or plain text form.

Welcome to paradise, I thought to myself as I took my first steps into Baghdad. I had sailed across the Mediterranean Sea and then walked on land for days. But finally, I was here, and what a perfect way to start Muharram 45. I knew immediately that I had found my place in the world. Back home, I would have worked with my dad in the fields forever. But now, I had a future. As I looked for my guide, I explored the shops in the Karkh suburbs. They were selling salt and gold all the way from Ghana. But the most beautiful part of it all was the beautiful mosque in the center. The three rings surrounding it looked like a maze—a maze leading to Allah. 

“There you are, Amir,” I heard a voice say. “I saw you at the gate, but I was not sure if it was you.”

I turned around to see my mentor, Ibn Sina, wearing a white turban and exquisite blue robes. “Hi, sorry for wandering off. I was just exploring,” I said. 

“Come, let’s go to your new home.”

We wandered the city for a long time. Ibn Sina walked briskly through the streets, but I took more time. I wanted to look at everything and see everyone. As we passed by the mosque, my heart skipped a beat. It was a beautifully exquisite brick building with gold details. 

“It’s awe-inspiring, right?” said Ibn Sina. “We can visit one day if you like.”

I stood there for a long time, just staring at it. I could feel Allah’s presence. It was so holy that it took my breath away. I saw people walking in and out for prayer. We walked through a couple more streets, and we arrived at our destination. The House of Wisdom. 

It was a beautiful white building with a courtyard at the entrance. A big fountain was pouring out crystal-clear water. All around me, scholars were talking and researching and working. I heard people talking in Arabic, Greek, and some languages I did not even recognize. But the most beautiful part was the library itself. There were rows and rows of shelves, and every shelf was stuffed to the brim with books. People were taking off books, looking at books at tables, and carrying books around. The library itself felt alive, buzzing with anticipation. 

“I promise that once you are here you will never want to leave,” said Ibn Sina. “This is the place of thinkers and scholars. I am named after one of them.” 

He went on for a bit, but I was not paying attention. I wanted to explore the library. My calligraphy might not have been the best, but this place felt like home. I was the only one in my family who could write. My father would bring me to all his important work so I could help him. 

Ibn Sina dismissed himself after a couple of minutes and I was finally free. I spent what felt like hours wandering around and admiring the ornate books with leather-bound covers. I was relaxing in a dark corner of the library when I saw two men carrying a big book. 

They went off into a tiny room and shut the door. All of the other scholars were working in the main area with each other, but these two wanted to work alone. And that made me curious. I snuck off and stuck my ear to the door. 

“We are so close. There is just one piece we are missing,” one of them said. 

“These maps have the last clue,” chimed the other one. 

My mind was racing with questions. What were they looking for? What was going on? They worked in silence for a little bit longer, and just when I thought I was going to have to move from my hiding place, they left the room and locked the door. Once they were out of sight I climbed out of the dark corner where I was hiding. I was about to find Ibn Sina and tell him everything I heard when I noticed they had dropped a piece of paper. It was a sketch of the mosque. I had a lead. If I went to the mosque I could do some snooping. And as if Allah himself had heard my prayers, the bell started ringing for Dhuhr’s prayer. The library quickly emptied and I followed the crowd where I caught up with Ibn Sina. 

“How are you settling in?” he asked.

 “I’m great, I cannot wait to see the inside of the mosque.”

“It is glorious.”

It took us a long time to get inside with the crowd, but the minute I could, I snuck off. I figured that if whatever the two men were working on was a secret, then I would find my answers in a more secluded area of the mosque. I went into one of the private prayer rooms. Light was spilling in through the windows. The room was under the dome, which was made of white marble. The walls had a beautiful blue geometric pattern. I snooped around the room for a long time when I finally found my answer: a tiny locked cabinet on the floor. I was about to look for a key when I heard footsteps coming into the room. I ducked behind the curtain and listened to the conversation. 

“Looks like someone beat us here,” said the man I had heard before. “The good thing is that they could not unlock the cabinet.”

I heard the cabinet swing open. Whatever was in there was now theirs. “Finally, we have the journals,” said the other man. “Decades of hard work have paid off, the secrets of life are now ours.”

 “The Sunni have hid the works of Al-Razi for too long. The public should know the truth!” he shouted. “An empire shall be made, one that is truly the empire of Allah, led by Ali,” said the first man.

 I understood it now. Those men were Shi’a spies. Ali claimed to be the uncle of Muhammed himself. I had to stop them. If they brought those journals to Ali, he would become unstoppable. I had heard rumors of the power they held, but I thought it was just a myth.

So I did the only thing I could. I came out of my hiding place and pounced on them. All three of us slammed into the ground. We wrestled and fought on the floor. I kneed him in the stomach and in response, he pushed me back down. 

“Ali will never get those texts,” I shouted, “not while good men still exist.”

 “You stupid boy, you don’t understand,” one of them said. “The secret writings of Al Razi contain the answers to a perfect world, they contain the secrets of immortality.”

“They were hidden because people like you cannot be trusted,” I retorted. I knew I had no hope of winning this fight, but if I could stall them, backup could arrive. I began to shout as loud as I possibly could while not letting them on to what I was planning. It only took five minutes for the Haras to come running. 

“What is going on?” one of them shouted, his booming voice echoing around the room. His golden armor caught the light and blinded me. 

“We caught this young man stealing from the temple,” said one of the men as he fixed himself and stood up. He shot me a cruel smile. 

My heart sank. I had lost. There was no way that the Haras would believe me over these two men. They picked me up and dragged me to the main area. Everywhere I went, people stared at me. Luckily, Ibn Sina was not around. I had no idea how I would explain it to him. My parents would be even worse. They had worked so hard to send me here, but now everything was ruined. As I was trotting around town like an animal, it suddenly dawned on me what was going to happen. The Haras were taking me to the palace. I was going to have to face the king. He had the power to have me imprisoned, or worse, killed. I prayed to Allah to watch over me. Turbulent times were ahead and I prayed that I would have the strength to keep going. So as I was marched to the palace I kept my head held high. I had done nothing wrong. Now I just had to prove it. If I had been arriving under any other circumstance I would have been elated. I had been dreaming of the royal palace for as long as I could remember. It was a beautiful white mansion with a gold roof that glimmered in the setting sun. It was hard to believe that I had only been here for a day. So much had happened already. I was escorted to a tiny holding cell below the prison. It was dark and empty, and for some reason, everything felt damp. The guards shoved me in and locked the door.

My situation might have seemed grim, but I was jumping for joy inside. I may have been in prison but as long as I was alive I could escape, and I was safe. The guards had done nothing besides dragging me here. This joy quickly turned to boredom when I realized how slow awaiting your death could feel. I prowled around like a wild animal and tried to entertain myself in any way I could. I created a fun game to annoy the guards. Whenever they began to relax I would kick some rocks around to make it sound like I was escaping.

The prison they put me in was not very high-security, but when you don’t know what you are doing, every prison becomes impenetrable. But as the guards began moving sluggishly and spending more and more time chatting, I decided to take advantage of this time and relax. It was surprisingly calm, and I slept like a log all night. Somebody kicked me awake at the crack of dawn and I was put back in shackles to finally meet the king. By now I had a plan for what I would say to the king: I would tell him the truth. I knew I had no evidence, but I figured that lying would only get me in more trouble, which was the last thing I needed right now.

I had never realized how busy the king was until I saw the line outside his palace stretching all the way down the street when the sun had barely risen. As a high-security prisoner, I got to skip the line. The king’s chambers were stunning. There was an ornate tapestry hanging from the walls, and stained glass windows showed important moments from our history. The king lazily lounged on a ginormous throne covered in gems and made out of solid gold. 

“I have heard about you, peasant,” he said in a booming voice that was obviously supposed to intimidate me. 

But I had nothing to lose, so I stared straight into his beady eyes and held my ground. “I expected that much. After all, you guys have nothing better to do than harass the innocent,” I said. 

The guards looked at me like I was insane, which I might as well have been.

 “I would hardly call theft and attempted murder innocent,” he responded. 

“Those men at the mosque were the thieves. I was simply trying to stop them.”

“Well they told me a very different story,” said the king as he gestured for someone to enter. 

My heart sank. If the men had already talked to the king, then there was no way he was going to believe me. I was banking on the fact that the men had run off, which would make them look even more guilty. I was just about to give up and pray for mercy when I suddenly felt something slip into my pocket. Someone had delivered me a message. I hatched a new plan right then and there, and I got myself thrown back in jail. Now that I was alone in my cell, I opened the letter and read it. It said that I had stumbled into something bigger than I could comprehend. And the letter gave me two options: I could sneak the keys from the guards and escape down to the dock, where a boat was waiting for me to take me home, or I could go to a small tavern down the road, await further instructions, and possibly get answers.

As much as I wanted to figure out what was going on, I decided that I could not risk the safety of my family and myself. So that night, I did exactly what the letter told me. Getting rid of the guards was the easy part. All I had to do was call out for help and then knock them out cold with a rock. Step two was a bit harder. I had no idea how I was gonna get to the dock without being spotted. Even though it was night I did not want to take any chances. So I stole the clothes of a sleeping guard. With a uniform on, I knew that nobody would bother me. 

Baghdad was somehow even more beautiful at night. I saw all the buildings under a blanket of stars. The moonlight shone on the water and illuminated all the boats. I found the one I was supposed to be on and snuck in with no issues. All was going well as I hid in the cellar and heard the footsteps of the sailors above me doing last-minute prep before departure. But then suddenly I heard fighting and shouting. Bodies fell to the ground with a thud. Someone did not want me to leave this dock alive. The attackers quickly disposed of all the sailors and soon they began to scour the ship. I prayed to Allah to protect me and to give me strength. I felt a hand tap on my shoulder and I turned around to see none other than Ibn Battuta. 

“What are you doing here?” I shout-whispered.

 “I am the one who slipped you the note,” responded Ibn. 

I flashed back to the long line of people waiting to meet with the king. He had been there all along, and I did not even see him.

 “I wanted to offer you a way out of everything, but now you have no choice but to come with me,” said Ibn. “I can get you answers.”

I realized how foolish I had been to think that I could just run away from my problems. No matter where I went, I would always be in danger. I had no choice but to put a stop to what I started. So I took a deep breath, turned to Ibn Battuta, and said, “Start from the beginning and tell me everything.”