Original subtitles

The brothers' thirst for power,

made Al-Sabbah becomes more brutal.

It's no longer time for hiding and calling for dawah in secret.

And dives into the streets of Isfahan.

It's a golden opportunity, when Malik-Shah's sons are at odds

an opportunity that would allow people to serve the powerful giant

that has emerged in Isfahan.

They even began to openly roam the streets.

Fear filled the hearts from Al-Sabbah.

Everyone who opposes our dawah must be killed in the most horrific ways.

For the sake of the soul and greatness of Malik-Shah.

I extend my hand in peace.

However, the reconciliation occurs among the sons of Malik-Shah.

Long live Sultan Berkyaruq.

Long live Sultan Berkyaruq.

So that Berkyaruq can be the Sultan the Seljuk state.

Berkyaruq is strong. Fierce.

800 individuals did this in Isfahan!

Oh, my lord, people are afraid.

He lacked the wisdom of Malik-Shah,

and didn't have a minister as cunning as Nizam Al-Mulk.

- Gather the elders of Isfahan to me. - As you command, my lord.

He chose to assert control over sultanate.

And so he did.

Berkyaruq,

performed the grandest massacre on Hassan Al-Sabbah's followers.

A massacre that will cause chaos in Alamut.

Berkyaruq,

killed 800 from the Esoterics

in one night.

EPISODE 14: ASCETIC IN JERUSALEM

It's a sad day in the history of our dawah.

Mourning at the castle for three days.

I want the children of the 800 who were killed

to be here in the castle by any means.

And to give them food, beverage, clothing and weapon.

A mourning ceremony should be conducted immediately upon their arrival.

A mourning ceremony they will never forget.

And every week after they finish their training...

they should sit and the story should be retold in front of them again,

that the disbelievers and wicked people of Isfahan

killed 800 of the noblest people on earth.

I want the spirit of vengeance to forever haunt the memories of every child

of the martyrs' offspring.

Long live

the Sultan

- Berkyaruq! - The best news.

We are one army again.

I've had lost hope.

But I never lost hope.

Every passing minute, I feel like everything will return.

Every person I lost, I will see again one day...

my father and my mother.

Nourhan.

Your father and mother are in heaven, Yahya.

Only the lord knows Nourhan's fate.

I see her face every night

it's as if my dreams are mortgaged just to meet her.

To the point where I rush my sleep just to see her in my dream...

as if there is an appointment between us in my dreams.

This is torture, Yahya.

It’s better if you forget her.

Who can forget his own soul, Suleiman?

Eat up, everyone. Eat.

Omar Khayyam!

Aren't you going to tell me anything new today?

Actually, I was planning on excusing myself from the court

so, I could finish constructing the observatory you requested.

Later, later.

The observatory can wait.

Tell me something amusing.

- A poem? - No.

I don't want poetry.

Poetry requires relaxation

and focus on visual imagery and verbal suggestions.

I want a story

a joke

a pun.

A pun?

Or an extraordinary tale.

I will tell you a funny tale.

- There were three friends. - Yeah.

They pledged that whoever reaches a position or influence

will help the other two.

One of them attained power

he gathered the other two and gave each of them a position.

All three of them reached a good position.

One of them betrayed his benefactor and fled

and the other kept trying to get even with him but couldn’t.

Why?

Because the one who fled was crazier

he managed to kill his friend before his friend could kill him

because life always favors the mad.

What about the third one?

The third one...

...the third one couldn’t bear being the

friend of both the killer and the victim.

So he fled

to a foreign country to work as a clown and jester.

A clown, a clown.

A clown and a jester.

My Lord.

- Have you chosen someone suitable? - Mansour.

Excellent.

The target this time is dangerous and different.

Who do you think is currently our biggest threat, Zaid?

A lot.

The Sultan and his brothers,

the Abbasids and the Crusaders

even the Fatimid, followers of Al-Musta'li.

Our enemies are plenty, praise be to God.

These are all traditional enemies.

The most dangerous enemy is the enemy of your thought

the enemy of your approach

the enemy of the true meaning of your existence.

Abu Hamid al-Ghazali.

But he has left Isfahan

- and quit teaching in Nezamiyeh schools. - I know.

He is now in Jerusalem seeking the truth.

- I know. - Okay.

- So his influence is less. - On the contrary.

Abu Hamid al-Ghazali is my most dangerous enemy on earth right now.

Because he has both knowledge and proof

and he's not too old.

His escape from Isfahan and his asceticism of everything

means he will become the big idea

that could threaten the existence and dawah of Hassan Al-Sabbah.

The chosen one shall enjoy and bestow my vision,

to kill Abu Hamid al-Ghazali

before he completes his thought.

I love you! I love you!

I love you!

There's still the best to come.

Our master.

The dream of Heaven is much less than Heaven itself

Al-Aqsa Mosque

You'll go there and find a man dressed in simple clothes, hiding

his name is Abu Hamid al-Ghazali.

Go there pretending to be a Sufi worshiper.

The moment he turns to you and pays attention

your dagger should be in his chest.

You will be killed

as your soul leaves your body.

You will find me waiting for you at the gates of Heaven.

What's the price of a piece of bread and water for a passerby?

The price is what you can afford.

Where are you heading?

To Jerusalem.

Oh, you have a long journey ahead

you seem to have come from the path of the mountain sheikh.

Who's this mountain sheikh?

Does anyone not know the mountain sheikh, Hassan Al-Sabbah?

Yeah, I've heard about him.

I too have heard, but never seen him.

I deal with lady Alinar.

Is Alinar his wife?

Alinar was a slave-girl of the greatest rulers of the Levant

he bought and liberated her.

she's now in charge of his palace's slave-girls

every now and then, slave-traders come and sell them slave-girls

and I am the mediator.

I make some money out of it, he's a generous man, Hassan Al-Sabbah.

I heard he's an ascetic.

There is no man who doesn't love women.

But certainly, Hassan has a secret and I'll find out.

I found this pigeon

on our rooftop.

And this message was on its leg.

"In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.

"From the palace and prison of Al-Sabbah"

"to my friend and lifelong companion."

"Omar Khayyam."

"We learned of your departure from Isfahan to Merv"

"this is a different time, Omar."

"There is no suitable place for you except Alamut Castle."

"Come to us, you will find safety and comfort"

"here no one can threaten you."

"I know you love freedom like birds"

"but the friend misses his friend."

"I am here a king in my prison"

"nothing would amuse me but having a conversation with the free, mad poet."

"Think about it, it displeases me that my crazy friend"

"to be a prisoner in a Sultan's court just to make him laugh."

"Come to us."

"I possess the world of our dreams."

I only lack your company and your opinion."

What's the end of your journey, Omar?

Jester?

Or dead person?

Or lonely?

The important thing now is What will we do with the pigeon?

The pigeon should be grilled and the message should be burned.

Omar Khayyam should think about the trap of life

in which his parent implicated him into.

Open the door!

Hussein.

I missed you. I missed you my love.

You too, my mom.

- Thank God. - How are you, Hady?

I missed you.

Have you seen Khadija?

- Is this Khadija? - Yes.

- How are you? - Thank God.

I'm happy that you could come and pass all the dangers alone

from your castle to Alamut castle.

I had to see my mom and my siblings.

Your mother, your siblings and your father.

You look older, father, in these few past years.

You've grown up too.

And it's time for you to be a hero.

Hassan.

My son will neither be a chosen nor a guerrilla.

Is it possible?

The son of the preacher, the grand imam, Hassan Al-Sabbah,

won't be a role model?

Will he get the honor to be part of those chosen and promised?

If that's the case, he should go back where he belongs.

I've seen you and I have ensured your safety, my dear. Come back.

It's me who decides if he should return or not.

I think the years I spent away from you

allowed me to become a man and make decisions.

I will actually return to my fortress

but not because I am afraid of being a chosen one or a guerrilla.

On the contrary,

I am a preacher, imam, and a sign.

Like you.

It is my role to choose the people.

Of course, until the appointed time comes and

I am ready to take the place of our Lord,

Imam Hassan Al-Sabbah.

The one who holds the key to heaven.

My inheritance is inspired by God

And I will decide who's gonna take Hassan Al-Sabbah's place when God tells me so.

Relax and enjoy your time with your mother and siblings.

And tell when you plan to leave so I can ensure your safe return.

Don't worry, father,

I know how to take care of myself

just as I came, I will return.

Thank God for your safe return, my dear.

Why don't you go to the Castle of Death?

For your information,

it is the safest place for you now.

Why is it the safest place for me, Suhban?

In this time we live in,

safety is not found with a caliph, sultan, or minister.

Safety is with those who kill and are well fortified.

And your friend is no easy target,

no one is capable of destroying his castle.

Take my advice,

protection from a robber

is better than protection from a mad sultan.

Bathroom attendant is tired of the sultan's ridiculous job

and wants to escape.

But the poet finds no courage or wings.

I bet a single day of hard work

beats a hundred days in this house.

Why don't you have a girlfriend, wife, or concubine?

I used to.

The heart beats three times, but

they are meaningful ones.

And the rest are echoes.

What are the three meaningful ones, Suhban?

The day we are born.

The day we fall in love,

And the day we die.

And this is the last one.

You are right.

Birth,

love, and death.

Just so you know

I wasn't always only a bathroom attendant.

- I was a king in Isfahan. - A king?

Tell me more.

Tell me the story of the bathroom attendant king.

I had a day in the week,

where I lived like a king.

The rest of the week, I ate less, drank less,

and saved.

Then, on Thursday,

I would get food and drink with all the money I had.

And I would eat, get drunk, dance, and sing

until I fell asleep.

Beautiful, O' Sahban.

You managed to steal a day from time.

You stole what stole all of us.

One night,

I went out to get food and drinks.

- I found her. - A jinn?

No.

A slave girl.

Dinar.

Her face was as bright as the full moon,

and her body was fire.

And you bought her?

With all that I had.

And I left.

- And there was neither food nor drink. - Doesn't matter.

I thought, just a week, and I'll be a king again.

But beauty does not wait for anyone.

Fortune turned against me.

The bathroom was as if abandoned,

and she endured.

She endured one day...

and the next.

On the third, she said, Free me for the sake of God,

sell me for any price,

I don't want a bathroom attendant who wants to be a king.

I want a man,

to cherish his days with me.

You sold her?

And sold my heart along with her.

My Lord, the Sultan calls for you.

We have become slaves too.

And I wish we knew how to free ourselves.

I have a silly insomnia,

that doesn't let me sleep.

I called my minister and asked him to tell me exciting news

or a thrilling story to help me sleep.

He told me the hottest news in the kingdom right now

is the anger of the scholars

at Omar Khayyam.

I said, What?

Omar Khayyam?

My guest and friend,

And source of inspiration?

He said Yes.

I asked him, What's the accusation?

He replied,

they are saying that you

are an atheist,

a heretic,

and a drunkard.

I'm not drunk here in front of our lord, and I've never said I was an atheist.

You all argue every day for a month

and the one who beats the other

will be the winner.

And I will issue my orders

to kill the loser.

It's too long a time, my lord.

Too long for whom?

For the world.

For an existence that loses a month just to know the intent of Omar Khayyam.

Alright, let's make it a week.

And may my lord allow me just one day.

So I can prepare myself for the discussion

and finish building the observatory.

What? A day?

And what am I supposed to do that day?

Who would make me laugh?

- Who will entertain me? - Just a day, my lord.

A day.

You will find plenty of things to entertain you.

Alright

Take your day, Omar Khayyam.

My sons, oh Hassan.

- What about them? - They have nothing to do with your plans!

If God wills it, they are to be my sons

should I defy God's plan?

So, let them learn horsemanship, leadership, and wisdom.

But to die and be killed, no.

Do you accept that the faithful say in the fortress that,

that Hassan Al-Sabbah sacrificed his sons for the honor of martyrdom,

Hassan Al-Sabbah sent the youth to their

deaths while keeping his sons by his side,

you are killing the idea itself.

They have another role, just like yours.

How are they going to rule after you if they're killed?

Why?

If I have to perform a mission, do you think I wouldn't?

Meaning, if it's necessary, I would descend from the castle

I will kill and be killed.

Of course, I would do that.

Who will bring you to heaven if you're killed?

Aren't you the key-bearer?

Who will lead you to it?

Is it right for Hassan Al-Sabbah's wife to mock him?

It's not a mockery.

You are the son of your dream, as you wish.

And I will be the first to tell the faithful,

that I believe in the message of our lord, the bearer of the key to the heavens

I am ready to kill and be killed.

And I'll await for you to take me up to heaven with your hands.

But my sons, Hassan,

No.

You do not believe.

You will believe as long as you don't kill my sons.

Don't let your dream kill mine.

Or is the dream of paradise, O holder of the key...

only for men or what?

No, of course not.

There's also a dream of hell, oh Donia Zad...

for the believer and the believer who doubts their faith.

I feel our master is not in a better state.

Our master doesn't have a state.

I understand.

But we are in a fortified castle...

Our victories have reached the boundaries of legends...

the whole world is calculating every move for the castle of death...

how could he not be happy!

There's no happiness for an ambitious man.

Yes, but to where? Ambitious to where?

- Do you not believe who is our master? - God forbid.

I know he's the modest and pious...

the argumentative preacher...

the key holder of paradise, receiving directly from the Imam.

And more...

Because every day his ambition grows.

What he has is not ambition...

it's something divine.

- Divine! - So what?

Do you doubt our master?

No, of course not.

Our master is definitely different from the rest of us...

an extraordinary individual indeed.

But whether it's divine or not...

I can't be sure.

Between him and heaven is an open door...

but still it's strange...

sometimes he speaks out,

acts and doings...

Contrary to the usual and the religion?

...Yes.

And this increases my confusion...

and the strange thing is...

it increased my veneration and reverence for him.

You're lucky with your faith, Barzak.

- And you? - I am Zaid Ibn Sihon.

Once in sanity...

and once in madness.

Once in sanity, once in madness...

once in sanity, once in madness...

Come, Barzak.

I was just thinking of the Castle of death.

- What about it, my master? - Elevated much above the ground...

reminds me of the prophets who were raised to the high heavens.

Yes, my master, like Enoch and Christ.

So, here there is no death...

and if it happened...

then Hassan Al-Sabbah too... was elevated to the high heavens.

What concerns you?

I didn't want to tell you news like this.

But

Zaid Ibn Sihon.

Spends a lot of time in his room

unfortunately, he's taken a large portion of the Paradise plant

and uses it excessively.

Poor Ibn Sihon.

Barzak and two clerics we trust

are discussing and making their judgement in my presence.

Could we just get through this week?

You thought it was just a week?

Man's mood can change, and your neck goes flying.

Where are we going now?

That's a great question, Bathroom attendant.

So where's the answer now?

Zaid, you dealt with the Paradise plant.

Yes.

Knowing it's prohibited

except for specific purposes

which is the chosen ones entering the Paradise dream.

I know.

What's the clerics' judgment?

After close examination and consultation

and reviewing the evidence.

It is confirmed as a drug that suppresses ambition, therefore

it has the same effects as alcohol

intoxication and loss of conscious.

Therefore, we believe that flogging is the punishment

based on the punishment for drinking alcohol.

The decision goes to our master, Imam Hassan Al-Sabbah.

If he wants, he can punish.

Or if he wants, he can forgive.

We do not have any form of comparison.

We judge based on what's constituted upon us

And because Zaid Ibn Sihon is a close friend, an ally, a support.

I pronounce on him 200 lashes.

Without mercy.

Hopefully, the lashes will bring back the light to his heart

which was there because of his obedience to us.

It's in your hands, Barzak.

Flog our beloved Zaid ibn Sihon without mercy.

The same wounds that I showed you From the torment of the oppressors long ago.

Zaid ibn Sihon

a long journey.

That started when you were a hunchback

hiding Running from the oppressive infidels

and it's still continuing.

I'm asking you,

in this moment,

do you hate Hassan Al-Sabbah?

Be careful.

Because when I upset you, your heart should maintain the same love,

that made you happy.

Sometimes proximity comes through trials, Zaid.

I might have tested you to test your love.

Could it be Zaid's heart

сloser to me than Barzak Amide's hand.

The more your love for me increases, despite all trials

the closer you are.

And you still get closer to me

until you become me.

So when the Hassan Al-Sabbah disappears

or it elevates far from the earthly world

You are Hassan Al-Sabbah, oh Zaid.