Tablet of Destinies

by Traci Harding

  ‘Prepared what, Father?’ Adama urged, eager to learn if the rest of his wishes were about to be granted.

  ‘I shall come to that presently.’ He held up a finger to command the patience of his number one son. ‘First, allow me to introduce you to your brothers.’

  As Adama met his four remaining brothers — Adin, Geebo, Kalisto and Incus — he realised why Enki had separated them. Adin had worked the land and had extensive knowledge of animal husbandry; Geebo knew the skills of building and technology; Kalisto was a fisherman; Incus was a hunter of both flora and fauna.

  Between Adama and his brothers were all the skills and knowledge needed to carve out their own civilisation apart from the Nefilim.

  ‘So it was always the plan that my kind would flee into the wilderness beyond Edin?’ Adama questioned hisfather.

  ‘Yes, Adama.’ Enki smiled, as he only ever felt compelled to in human company.

  ‘Am I simply to disappear then, Father?’ Adapa queried his fate, not very satisfied with it.

  ‘Oh no, my dear scribe,’ Enki exclaimed, sounding excited for him. ‘Anu has decreed that he wishes to meet the Sage of Eridu before deciding what his fate shall be. I am to take you to Nippur. You will converse with Anu, who is on Nibiru, via the Duranki, a communications device designed for that purpose.’

  Adapa had gone ghostly white with excitement and fear. ‘I am to converse with God?’ His voice was hoarse with stress, as this divine appointment was within the Lord Enlil’s capital city. Adapa feared he would not live to fulfil his destiny.

  ‘I shall be beside you the entire time,’ Enki assured. ‘I have foreseen this meeting,’ he said surely, and eased the sage’s fears. ‘The rest of you are finally to meet your female offspring, at an engagement my sister, Ninharsag, has arranged … except you Adama.’ Enki turned to look at his first son and immediately picked up on Adama’s fear and dread of being apprehended and punished. ‘I understand you have made other plans for this evening?’

  Adama forced a smile, doing his best not to be bluffed into confessing his plans to meet with Eve. ‘I can cancel them, if I have to,’ he replied.

  ‘No need,’ retorted Enki. ‘I excuse you.’

  Scarcely believing his own ears, Adama suppressed a grin, not game to query his father’s consent nor even to make a verbal response.

  ‘Stay and speak with me, Adama.’ The Lord dismissed his other sons with a wave of his hand. ‘It’s high time we talked about your aspirations. And I have a little time before I must leave for Nippur with your brother.’

  Was he about to be enlightened or punished? Adama wasn’t sure; that was the thing about the Nefilim, their feelings never gave them away. ‘I would be honoured to impose upon your time, Father.’

  Adama entered the secret tunnel that evening to meet with Eve, but for a change, his mind was not dwelling on her alone. The private audience with his father was foremost in Adama’s mind, for the Lord had spoken of his wondrous expectations for the future of humankind.

  It had been revealed to Adama why Eve had been fashioned from his essence. He found it rather incredible that half of his soul-mind could exist in the body of another living being, but it did explain why the only time he ever recalled feeling contented and complete was in Eve’s company.

  ‘When you are joined in sexual union, I suspect that your soul-mind will become one once more,’ Enki had advised. ‘And I cannot say what effects this will have on your emotional psyche, but I expect the ramifications will be profound!’

  The daughters of Enki had been initiated in the ways of sexual interplay by Nefilim males, and had come away from their experiences adversely affected, although the Nefilim males had been warmed by their human sexual experience. Enlightened by it, Enki had claimed.

  His father’s terminology made Adama think of the condemning information in the Nefilim brief Adapa had found. The Orme that keeps we Nefilim ever filled with the light of youth. Could it be that humans generated the Orme naturally, via the emotional body that had been the gift of their home planet, Gaia?

  Up ahead in the tunnel, he spied the stairs that led to the forest where they had arranged to meet, but Eve was nowhere to be seen. Upon reaching the stairs he procrastinated over whether to continue on to the House of Shimti. ‘Perhaps she’s had second thoughts?’ he wondered, disappointed.

  ‘Adama,’ Eve called. ‘Up here.’

  He looked up to find her waving down at him through the exit at the top of the ladder.

  With every stair he scaled he felt his destiny approaching and the anticipation heightened.

  Adapa had never been physically teleported anywhere before. One moment ago he’d been in Eridu and now, thanks to his father, he was ascending the stairs of the Temple of the Duranki in Nippur.

  The circular domed temple that arose before him had been specifically designed to house the Duranki — the bond between the heavens and those Nefilim here on Gaia. The interior of the temple was as grand in scale as it was in decoration. Adorned with jewels, silver and other precious metals, there was no gold featured anywhere on the building itself.

  Perhaps Or is too highly prized to be used as a mere decoration? Adapa considered. He reached the top of the temple stairs and crossed the entrance platform, where he was able to look down into the sanctuary.

  There was a beautiful sun motif set into the circular platform in the sunken centre of the large, open-air temple. This motif mirrored in size the transparent domed ceiling some distance above. Set into the stairs to the south, east and west of the central platform was a semi-circular platform. To the north was the shrine’s most striking feature — a box the size of an altar that was made of pure gold. This housed the Duranki.

  A winged rod symbol, with two serpents entwining it in opposing directions, was engraved upon each side of the container. The golden lid was crowned by a statue of two winged figures, also in gold; they faced away from each other, their wings extending backwards and touching at the tips.

  Enlil and his wife, Ninlil, stood below, in the inner circle of the shrine, with their son and heir, Ninurta, at their side, and his wife-to-be, Gula, also present. Marduk stood on Enlil’s other side, his expression cold as he watched Adapa descend towards them with Enki, Ninki and Ninharsag.

  There was no one else present; not a Nefilim guard or servant in sight, which was highly unusual as the members of the Pantheon were almost always attended by a guard.

  So you have brought him. Enlil projected his thoughts aloud, knowing the feat would disturb the human that he eyed over with distaste. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

  Enki placed a comforting hand upon Adapa’s shoulder, sensing his fear. ‘Anu has not spoken yet,’ Enki responded, projecting his mind in the same fashion, before he whispered to Adapa: ‘See, it is naught but a silly trick.’

  Enlil was furious that Enki sought to reassure the slave. ‘How smug you are, believing that you have seen a future for these hybrid abominations you have constructed. But I too have had a vision of their future that is in distinct contradiction to yours.’

  For two brothers, Enlil and Enki were as diverse in appearance as they were in opinion. Where the Lord Enki’s features were rounded and soft, his brother’s were pointed and hard. Enki’s large almond-shaped eyes — consistent with all Nefilim — were brown, and his short, straight hair was in vast contrast to Enlil’s blonde waves and eyes of blue. Both were tall, as all Nefilim were, but Enlil’s build was that of a warrior, where Enki had the body of a scholar. Not that physique had anything to do with strength — a Nefilim’s power stemmed from his mastery of the mind and thus his ability to influence the world around him.

  ‘Let us begin,’ Enki suggested calmly. ‘And see what the outcome shall be?’

  ‘Yes, let’s.’ Ninharsag stepped forward to prevent Enlil replying. ‘Take Adapa to the judging platform and let him be judged.’

  ‘I will stand with you,’ Enki assured the sage quietly, as he turned to lead him to a platform at t
he top of the stairs to the south.

  ‘Oh no, you will not,’ Enlil protested. ‘The human stands alone.’

  ‘I am able, Lord Enki,’ Adapa pronounced bravely, moving off up the stairs unaccompanied, whilst all of the Nefilim turned to ascend the stairs to the north platform where the Duranki sat.

  ‘What you will see will be awe inspiring,’ Enki called after Adapa in warning, and his son nodded to heed him.

  Adapa’s knees were shaking as he reached the platform, so he decided to kneel down to endure the proceedings, which seemed a more befitting way to come before a God in any case. He was grateful to be removed from the gathering of Nefilim, who now stood facing him in a half-circle around the Duranki, on the opposite side of the temple. Their arms were at their sides and their eyes were fixed on the golden feature. Adapa was just starting to feel at ease when the ornamental beings on the lid of the golden treasure suddenly came to life and flew upwards, taking the lid of the Duranki with them, out of the way of the proceedings.

  Out of the golden base, around which the Nefilim stood, arose a cylindrical dome of a shiny metallic colour. All the Nefilim present placed their hands on this.

  The tall, smokey-white pillars that supported the transparent domed ceiling of the temple appeared to become illuminated from the inside. The circular central feature at the base of the stairs split in half and slid aside to reveal a pool of glowing liquid boiling with turbulent clouds and electrical activity. A bolt of lightning lashed out of the swirling mass of liquid at the heart of the temple and made contact with the dome on which the hands of the Nefilim were resting.

  Adapa was amazed by what he saw, and even more so when the glowing mixture of liquid and mist began to rise from the centre of the temple.

  19

  THE FATED CHOICE

  They had been wandering through the forest for some time and had made much small talk about their mission to escape Eridu. Enki had actually told Adama this afternoon that he’d already made the arrangements for their departure from Edin. Now that the topic had served to occupy them long enough to get a good distance from the tunnel, Adama considered it a good time to confess to Eve that they could be at leisure this evening, as all had been arranged.

  ‘Oh, Adama, come look at this,’ Eve called from up ahead, where the forest cleared and moonlight streamed freely upon the expanse beyond.

  From the edge of the forest, fields of flowers formed deep patches of colour that blanketed the countryside.

  ‘This must be where they grow mother’s flowers,’ Adama said, and had to smile — even Mother Nature was lending him a hand with his seduction. The aroma, as he moved into the field in pursuit of Eve, sent his senses swimming.

  ‘I have never seen anything so lovely,’ Eve commented, as she danced through the fields, sniffing the different flowers as she went.

  ‘I see something far more breathtaking.’ Adama had stopped still to admire the way she moved. Her hood had fallen from her head and the bulk of her long dark hair was trapped in the folds of her cloak.

  Eve turned back, intrigued to learn what had so enchanted Adama and she was touched to discover he was complimenting her. ‘Ninharsag and Enki have made arrangements for our departure,’ Eve confessed to Adama, coming to a standstill also.

  ‘They have?’ Adama played dumb. ‘It looks like you’re stuck with me then.’ He broke into a smile.

  ‘You knew!’ It tickled Eve that Adama had been leading her here under false pretences, when she thought she’d been the one doing the leading.

  ‘I was going to tell you right before we found these fields,’ Adama was eager to admit.

  ‘I’ll let you in on another little secret.’ Eve moved towards him, untying her cloak. ‘I’ve known about these fields for ages.’ Her garment parted and dropped from her shoulders, leaving Eve naked as she slid into his arms. ‘I have dreamt of us here, in the gardens of Edin.’

  Adama gulped, feeling the heat rising in his manhood, as his fingers rushed over the bare skin of Eve’s back and his lips became lost in hers. Their wild rushes of emotion wove a spell around them that cast off the outside world. A moment filled with heated kisses and soft caresses, found them naked and on the ground, pressed close against one another.

  ‘I care for you more than life,’ Adama whispered, pulling back to admire Eve’s smiling face. ‘The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.’

  ‘You will not.’ She guided his fully erect member into position between her legs, where it was met by a delicious warm moistness that inspired a pleasured groan from them both.

  Oh my God! Adapa did not have the courage to utter his awe aloud. The glowing body of liquid, cloud and lightning had risen to eye level, seething as it billowed in the centre of the Temple of the Duranki.

  The mass appeared to be assuming a form. Strange noises, like a wild animal wailing, emanated from the celestial body and then were silenced by an unearthly hissing. The figure of a Nefilim became defined within the energetic substance, whereupon the strange sporadic wailing noises steadied into dialogue.

  … how goes all with my children on Gaia? Have you brought the Sage of Eridu to me?

  The abomination is here, Father, in the quadrant of judgement, Enlil advised, without stirring from his stance alongside his kindred gathered around the communication device.

  The enormous lofty figure turned from addressing the Nefilim, to look at Adapa kneeling humbly alone.

  Adapa bowed low to the ground, horrified beyond speech.

  So you are the sage who desires to know God and the knowledge of Gaia?

  Strangely enough, Adapa’s fear dissipated with the celestial Lord’s question, for he addressed him as the Lord Enki did, in a fatherly tone of voice. Unlike most Nefilim, Anu’s facial expressions were warm and welcoming, and so Adapa dared to raise his upper body to respond to the great leader of the Pantheon. ‘I wish to know what makes a God, Majesty,’ he clarified.

  So that you, yourself, can become an immortal entity and thus ensure the survival of your kind, Anu questioned, and Adapa could not refute the claim. The human race have not yet earned the right for such awareness and would misuse it, Anu decreed. Perhaps even worse than we have.

  ‘You believe that humans will use up the Orme that keeps the Nefilim filled with the light of youth,’ Adapa ventured to state boldly. Either he was going to die, or get some answers.

  Anu did not become angry that Adapa came right to the point. With a wave of the God’s hand, all of the Nefilim blacked out, remaining standing, but their heads falling forward.

  Except for the Lord Enki, who spoke to Adapa. I must bid my leave of you, as I have things to arrange. But you are safe in the presence of Anu, my son. Enki bowed to his father, and was gone.

  My people are fading into oblivion in droves, Adapa, and selfishness is the cause, Anu told him openly and honestly. Before long we will only have enough Or resources to keep the royal line of my people alive and our planet from freezing … although we are always seeking new reserves. Small amounts of the Orme taken over a long period of time allow we Nefilim an extended life period, but, having reached maturity, we only age one year to three thousand six hundred of your years. When a large amount of Orme is ingested by one of my brethren, it lightens our bodies of our souls, and it then rejoins Anu, our soul-source. In reality, we could produce enough Orme for all my kindred to ascend safely back to Anu right now. But the rich Nefilim refuse, wanting more physical life; thus, the price of Or is getting so expensive that the poorer Nefilim can only afford to keep themselves alive. When they can longer do even that, all the divine light is dissipated in their bodies and they die a mortal death, to find themselves trapped in the eternal darkness of Density, where they remain indefinitely. I have taken steps to set up a welfare scheme to prevent this from happening, but even this measure has met with protest from my wealthy subjects, as Orme is too precious to just be given away! As a human you have been blessed. You don’t need a continued dosage of Orme to maintai
n immortality. Once your immortal body is activated, the cosmos and nature have devised a means to generate the Orme of enlightenment internally. For, I have foreseen a greater shortfall with an artificially-prolonged lifespan, than even the selfish ways of my kin. I have come to understand that everything in creation is immortal; it simply changes form and must do so if it is to evolve and learn. To remain bound to one form for too long is to become stagnant … lost to creation. This is the fate that lies in wait for my kindred. Only the advent of a spiritually, mentally and physically developed human soulmind is going to be able to save those of my kin who have not opted to take the path of enlightenment by the time our Logos reaches the end of its lifespan.

  ‘Then give me the Orme, Highness, and I will strive to become this soul-mind and lead your people out of darkness.’

  That is the fate of a leader, and fated to be a leader you are not, Adapa. And besides, different elemental forces came into play with the creation of your species. You have an additional etheric layer that needs high maintenance and is relatively short-lived, even if attended to properly.

  ‘Are you talking about emotions?’

  Indeed I am. A whole new level of awareness has arisen in the ethers to cater for the elementary substance that will maintain the principal forces coming into play in the physical world. Creation has taken every precaution with the design of your breed, Adapa. The human soul-mind has been fashioned so that even if you manage to achieve immortality, the length of that divine state will be determined by your caring for another.

  ‘Another? Do you refer to my sister soul?’

  Lilith, Anu informed, knowing that the sage had not bothered to discover the name of his twin soul for fear of being enticed by its vibration. So, although you can achieve immortality alone, without knowing and employing these new elemental principles that interaction with your sister soul will promote, you will not be able to maintain an everlasting state of being. Anu outlined the significance of the split-soul principle. I could award you the immortality you seek, but you would become a single soul organism like we Nefilim and risk fading into oblivion when you grow selfish and refuse to acknowledge or serve the creation that spawned you. You would be giving up a grand opportunity to be a part of something we Nefilim can only imagine. In the grand scheme of creation, your soul-mind is far more advanced than mine. Human consciousness will be breaking new ground in the cosmological scheme of things, and being the scholar that you are fated to be, Adapa, I don’t believe that you would want to miss out on that wave of discovery.