In a dilap­i­dat­ed shepherd’s hut by the Riv­er Tigris, Arthur lies dying, his sens­es strug­gling to com­pre­hend his sur­round­ings filled with pover­ty. Sur­round­ed by rags and cold tea, he dis­cov­ers his jour­nal on the floor. Breath­ing labored, he man­ages to write, reflect­ing on life’s incli­na­tions that shape our des­tinies. Arthur rec­og­nizes that his own life has revolved around an ardent love for poet­ry and words, ded­i­cat­ing years to col­lect­ing, inter­pret­ing, and trans­lat­ing lit­er­ary works, par­tic­u­lar­ly an ancient epic that pro­vides him with immense joy.

Through­out his life, oth­ers per­ceived his talent—his moth­er unques­tion­ing­ly cel­e­brat­ed it, his father acknowl­edged it at times, and his col­leagues agreed, though his wife’s belief remains uncer­tain. He grap­ples with the idea that tal­ent may be out­shone by pas­sion, which embod­ies a rest­less heart seek­ing to push bound­aries. Echoes of Gil­gamesh and Ashur­ba­n­i­pal fill his mind, both kings who endured tribu­la­tions and loss­es, leav­ing Arthur reflect­ing on his own iden­ti­ty as “King of the Sew­ers and Slums,” far removed from his ori­gin.

As tears fill his eyes, Arthur laments missed oppor­tu­ni­ties as a father and hus­band. He feels lone­li­ness where inti­ma­cy should thrive, har­bor­ing unvoiced desires and unshared secrets. Unlike the schol­ar­ly pur­suit of ancient texts that brought him solace, he rec­og­nizes love as a com­plex puz­zle he has yet to deci­pher. He acknowl­edges the col­lec­tive own­er­ship of epic nar­ra­tives, con­tem­plat­ing their sig­nif­i­cance to his­to­ry and cul­ture while hold­ing tight­ly to a blue tablet from his explorations—a gift to Leila, embody­ing both con­nec­tion and dis­con­nec­tion.

Arthur dreams of the Epic of Gil­gamesh tran­scend­ing time and bor­ders, enchant­i­ng admir­ers of ancient poet­ry with its com­plex­i­ty and flawed beau­ty, mir­ror­ing an imper­fect world. He believes art serves as a tes­ta­ment to human emo­tion, a lega­cy for future gen­er­a­tions to rec­og­nize their ances­tors’ human­i­ty and fragili­ty. In his final moments, he embraces mor­tal­i­ty, find­ing peace as he recalls teach­ings about death as a new begin­ning.

As King Arthur takes his last breath on August 1876, he embod­ies a mul­ti­fac­eted identity—a son of the Thames, a schol­ar, an explor­er, and a man entan­gled in love and secrets. Mah­moud arrives, bear­ing news of his demise, and Leila, now marked by Arthur’s mem­o­ries, awaits, embody­ing the pro­found con­nec­tion they shared. Arthur is to be buried at the Cas­tle of the Rock, for­ev­er remem­bered as King Arthur of the Sew­ers and Slums, an endur­ing reflec­tion of both his tri­umphs and strug­gles.