“What in me is dark, illumine.” - John Milton
The story opens in a sunbaked desert landscape in the Levant, circa 3800 BC. Eroded rock formations tower over a deep cliff face, at the top of which a bedouin man carries his young son in his arms. The son, whose skin is pockmarked with pustules, asks for a story he’s heard many times before, so the father tells him a tale of many years ago, from long before he was even born. It is the story of his great grandfather, a truly righteous man, who it was believed was rewarded for his many good deeds with blessings from the gods. However, the members of his tribe burned with jealousy, and brought a curse down on their ancestor.
“As I too am cursed?” Asks the son.
”Indeed,” answers the father.
The tribe did not know at the time, as they do now, that the cursed must be banished, so the blight spread among them, leaving only scant survivors. Despite their prayers and sacrifices at the high stone, the gods did not lift the curse, leaving the meagre few to await their fate.
“And that is when they summoned The Olam?” Asks the son.
”You do not summon the Olam,” answers the father, “The Stone Man will appear, or he will not.”
Nearby, inside a cave, The Olam sits on a stone bench carved with a symbol of a bull and an eight pointed star. The high and wide walls of the cave appear naturally rocky, however the stone of the pedestal he sits on is completely smooth, comprising the top of a long series of shallow stairs. On his right sits a bowl, also with a bull carved on it, and an unlit wooden torch, while on his direct left sits a three-tiered object that appears to be made of a series of inter-connected cogs and driveshafts. Further to his left sits a number of large and small stone clay tablets with writing similar to cuneiform on them.
He’s hunched over, working on more clay tablets, which rest on a large platform that extends out in front of him and to the side a good distance. He’s wearing a long, grey hooded cloak that conceals everything but his hands, feet, and the lower portion of his face. He’s working by the light of two clay oil lamps. On top of the platform, many metres wide and tall stands an imposing scale model of a ziggurat, its main stairway extending down toward him, and on either side of that, two scorpions, like small sentinels raise their tails toward him.
Beyond his pedestal, off to the right, the rough walls of the cave appear to wind away to an unseen area. The floor is smooth and flat, as though tiled in rectangular stone. At the base of the stairs, an oil lamp illuminates a smooth part of the cave wall, where a human nervous system and skeleton hang. Markings can be seen beside them, labelling certain parts of the body. On the opposite side of the cave floor, a human body lies face up upon a large square platform made of 4 smaller squares with a thin space between them. The body has been cut open, the organs removed and carefully placed next to it. Blood drips from the body and the organs down through the slits between the square blocks.
In the centre of the floor, completely surrounded by lit candles, sits a raised sarcophagus with similar writing carved into its stone sides. Over the top of it, a plain cloth has been placed, which hangs some of the way down. It is the brightest place in the cave.
The father explains to his son that their people have long known of the Stone Man’s magic, and kept his sanctuary secret. Some in their tribe believe that he too is cursed, never to die, and that he may have at one point lived among their ancestors. Now though, his skin has the appearance of chalk, and his eyes are as black as obsidian.
As the story goes, The Olam did appear to their people all those years ago, and did lift the curse on their tribe, for all but their great grandfather, who sacrificed his body so that their people may live.
Inside the cave, The Olam pauses his work, and looks off to the side as though he’s sensed someone approaching. He takes the torch by his side. On the index finger of his right hand he wears a large stone ring upon which is set a rectangular cut of obsidian. He begins to walk down the shallow steps, holding the now lit torch in front of him, and comes to two large, stone doors. They are marked with engravings featuring cattle and other animals and people performing religious ceremonies.
Metres from the closed doors, he extends a hand out in front of him towards them, and spreads his fingers. With a booming crack, the huge stone begins to move, and the sunlight from outside streams into the cave. He begins the descent down a long flight of stairs out of the cave, concealed in the crevices of an enormous cliff face.
At the base of the stairs, the son asks his father why, if the Olam granted their people salvation, does his father fear him. To which his father replies, “I do not fear the long night. Today’s sun must set for tomorrow’s to rise. I fear what becomes of the snake, whose prey so willingly feed him.”