The Israelite contemplated within himself, what did I witness?
As I emerged, did I behold beauty, or have I encountered darkness?
I heard Kalumtum extol the proverb, and I now concur that a man without destiny will plead for sustenance.
What is this sensation within me? Grief... pain... or sorrow? No, it is something else; I am uncertain of myself, and an instinct compels me to discover what my destiny might be.
As he pondered these questions, he was returned to his cell, when suddenly the tattoos adorning his body began to glow, lifting him from the ground.
A woman's voice reverberated within him, "You must remember your destiny."
It was disconcerting; his nightmares resurfaced, and he began to scream.
Yet the woman's voice remained gentle and soothing, and the last words he heard were, "My son." Then, everything abruptly ceased.
But the woman in the adjacent cell understood that his memories were embedded in his tattoos, though he remained oblivious.
He languished there for six months, as though he had caught a fever; (the strange woman knew that his sleep will take away the words he had heard from his nightmare)
The prison guards were indifferent, seizing the opportunity to provide him with bread.
After six months, he awoke in terror, casting a glance toward the woman's cell, where she was consuming bread.
His stomach would not permit contemplation, and he requested a morsel. She graciously offered it to him, and he confessed, "I recently heard a woman's voice within me calling me... well I can not remember what she said anymore.
Kalumtum's oration has not left my mind in great war."
They regarded him with surprise,
"You have been in slumber for six months."
In disbelief, he expressed his shock and raced to locate the prison guards, only to find none present.
Pacing anxiously, he questioned how such a thing could transpire.
"But I arrived only after Kalumtum's speech!" The woman replied, "It was shortly after that you ascended into the air, screaming and disturbing my rest.
You fell and did not awaken until now.
We in this prison do not trouble them; I wonder how they remember to feed us bread."
The Israelite remained anxious and apprehensive, prompting her to advise, "Calm yourself, Young Boy; allow me to help you recover from the loss of these past six months."
"""
After the oration delivered by Kalumtum the Chaldean, the hearts of men were shattered; many acted with folly, attempting to usurp the king.
Some asserted that he was aged and feeble. This turmoil persisted for three months until a significant faction rose against the king and his soldiers.
It was war.
I could only scoff—what do you fight for? The liberation of Babylon from the Akkadians? Amusing; these men fail to comprehend the gravity of their actions, risking their lives for a cause long since extinguished.
The war concluded two months ago; their adrenaline has dissipated.
She glanced at the ISRAELITE, who remained unresponsive, his expression devoid of mirth.
Concerned, she inquired, "What troubles you, young lad?" He remained silent, prompting her to add, "I shared my bread with you, and now you deny me a conversation?
There are many things I wish to convey, knowledge you missed while ensnared in slumber."
Yet, he continued to withhold his voice, turning away to rest, weighed down by worry.
She smiled softly and succumbed to sleep as well.
This pattern endured for countless days; he obstinately refrained from speaking, adopting a demeanor of cold contemplation.
The ISRAELITE lay quietly, pondering his thoughts—why do people behave as they do?
According to Kalumtum, what is the nature of the throne? What throne governs me, or anyone else, for that matter? I believe that each individual harbors a throne within, inspiring us all.
Yet, I possess no recollection of myself—what was my throne? "The Israelite sighed greatly" I am engulfed in terror; what is my destiny? Is it to lead, as Kalumtum does?
As dawn broke, he was roused by the prison guard.
"Do you desire bread, young lad?"
The ISRAELITE responded, "I know you harbor no goodwill towards me, yet I am engulfed in confusion.
Pray tell, what do you mean by that proverb? What is destiny? For days, I have sought an answer, yet my mind remains unyielding.
What is life, truly?" With palpable distress and sorrow, he posed these questions.
The prison guard replied, "Do you presume we shall be friends because you ask such inquiries? Do not harbor delusions; let me impart the harsh realities of existence.
I have witnessed war and peace, and I can assert one undeniable truth: war is birthed from darkness.
Regardless of your virtue or the deity you worship, to take another life, one must embrace darkness.
As a soldier, I can only define life as war, instigated by the affluent, while we are mere pawns, manipulated in their games.
In the presence of the divine, life is simply... nothing. I have no gods with me, Israelite; I have yet to encounter a deity that truly cares.
Yes, there are many goddesses present, even the king has his own priestess—such a witch."
He cast a glance at the woman in the adjacent cell before turning away, discarding the bread upon the floor.
"Wait, reveal your name to me; at the very least, I should earn your title," the ISRAELITE implored.
"Ur-Nammu, son of Nammu," the prison guard replied.
Instantly, the ISRAELITE was stirred; the specter of his nightmare resurfaced, and now he could hear the voice of that very woman recounting tales of a warrior in Babylon named Nammu.
He looked at the guard and exclaimed,
"I remember you; you are the slayer of 30,000 men, commander of the Chaldean armies, known as the Babel soldiers.
How did you come to be a mere prison guard?"
Nammu, who had begun to depart, glanced back and continued his retreat.
"Tell me," the ISRAELITE called out, "what is destiny, and what is life?
I realize now that you are entangled with them; what have they whispered to you?"
Nammu remained silent, walking away.
The ISRAELITE mused to himself, "I recall something now; I possess knowledge from my past.
So, this is what it feels like to know." He fixed his gaze upon the woman's cell, where she lay in slumber.