Close to what is known today as Yazihan, Malatya, Turkey. 3,890 to 3,740 BC.
The young lord, Nut, left his hold equipped for a raid. He had one sharp spear, two blunted spears, a stone axe, a bow, and four arrows. If the raid went as planned, no weapon would be drawn. Raids were for robbing, and only failed raids had much violence.
Lord Nut had recently turned seventeen years of age. Such things were not tracked, so he didn’t know his age, or care. How many trinkets adorned his body was far more important. He hoped he and the ten sworn-men that raided with him would all head back to his hold richer and with many supplies and animals, but if things turned violent, he would not mind.
Nut and his men darkened their skin with mud and were very hard to see in the little light given from the waning gibbous moon. Though they were too far away from the neighboring hold they were raiding to be disciplined with noise yet, every man of the raiding party naturally walked quietly over the craggy terrain.
The man riding the large, strange beast slowly through the foothills was heard before he was spotted. The raiding party hid before they could be seen, yet it seemed the far-off man rode directly towards them.
Nut had heard rumors of nomadic tribes far to the northeast riding on great beasts, and there were some gods he heard of that also rode on animals. His own god, Koram, was said to sometimes ride a two-headed bear into battle, but he had never seen a man ride a beast with his own eyes, nor had he ever met a man claiming to have seen such.
The beast the lone man rode upon looked somewhat like a giant ibex with longer legs, a longer face, and no horns. It was hard to make out more than that in the light of the moon.
Not much detail could be made of the stranger. Unlike every person Nut had ever seen, wearing only loincloths, the lone traveler wore something strange over his whole body, hitched up on his thighs as he rode. A large haft showed over his right shoulder, much too large to be the shaft of a spear, and curved a little, like for a giant adze.
A merchant would have goods to trade, and the strange man had none that could be seen. Nut met a southern merchant once at King Kah’s hold. The man dressed as all people did and had many guards that traveled with him and helped protect and lug his goods around.
Why the strange man thought he could travel alone through foreign territory safely was a mystery. The gods must have cursed his mind with a madness, thought Nut.
The man continued to look directly at the raiding party and steered his great beast towards them. Nut gave his men the signal to stay unmoving and placed his spear on the ground. He grabbed his bow and strung it. He nocked and loosed an arrow, having it fall a distance in front of the stranger as a warning, but close enough the man had to see it.
The man ignored the warning and unworriedly continued to ride his beast towards the party. Nut yelled, “Halt.” That went ignored too.
No orders were needed for the raiding party to string and nock arrow to bow, besides for Bullet, since he only used a sling. The warriors all stood, and the young lord yelled out again. “Halt!”
The stranger halted that time. He dismounted his beast. But then he continued to approach on foot, leaving his beast behind.
Having had enough of the fool, Lord Nut loosed his arrow, and his men did the same. Ten arrows and one stone flew at the man, and the stranger’s hand snaked out to snatch Nut’s own arrow out of the air. Then the man moved so quickly he seemed to blur, and somehow managed to avoid the rest of the missiles.
After the failed volley, the strange man was only about five-tens paces in front of the raiding party. Nut assumed his men figured out the same thing he did. The strange man was no man at all. He was either a cowardly sky god descended from above, or one of the great gods below, no longer having the juice to fight in the eternal battle, so fled above to this dream.
Either way the men’s spirits rose, and they held their chests out. The battle would be glorious, and they would awaken from this dream by the side of Koram himself, having won great rewards and honors for their tall deed giving battle to such a fell foe.
The god was close enough Nut noticed he wore no trinkets as any warrior should, especially such a doughty one. As Nut nocked a new arrow the god whipped the one he caught in his bare hand forward, and it impaled into the chest of Bull so fiercely it knocked the giant man off his feet.
New arrows were loosed at the god, and he quickly closed with the raiding party as he avoided the missiles, drawing the weapon from his back. The weapon was an axe. The haft was thick and long, and the wood curved. The head was large and if it was knapped from a stone as all axes were, the crafter had skills beyond understanding, as the head was completely smooth. A worthy weapon for a god, thought Nut.
No arrow had yet struck the man. Bows were dropped and replaced with spear or axe. Nut picked up his sharp spear and prepared to engage in melee when Three-Blow let out a war cry, letting all know he would fight the god in single battle.
Three-Blow, named so because he could defeat any man with merely three blows, had been with Nut for a long time and was his top sworn-man. When Nut was thirteen and his lord father sent him and his brother away during the foreign invasion, Three-Blow was one of the two sworn-men sent with them. Tall, fast, skilled, and the veteran of more battles than any in Nut’s hold, Three-Blow earned the right to challenge the stranger to such battle.
With a spear in his right hand, and an axe in his left, Three-Blow started a run to chuck his spear at the god, and though the throw was perfect, the stranger easily batted the spear aside with his empty hand.
Three-Blow moved the axe from left to right hand as he continued to charge the man, letting out a new war cry. As he reached the god and started a swing, the large axe of the god split Three-Blow’s head completely, lodging deep down into his chest. The blow was so fast and mighty all stood confused for a moment.
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Never had Nut or any of his men seen such a mighty blow and feat of strength. They were sad to see Three-Blow fall, as he was a friend and the best warrior among them, but they still cheered and yelped in appreciation of the god’s prowess, and all were glad witnesses to such a feat.
Nut then noticed the man stared only at him and seemed excited for some odd reason. The stranger held his hand up, as if he wanted peace and to exchange words.
Even if Nut wanted to end hostilities and talk, his men would have never accepted it. If he was much older, a grizzled and hardened veteran and grandfather covered in trinkets, his men might have trusted him with such a breach of custom, believing in his greater wisdom and understanding of honor.
The stranger killed Bull and Three-Blow. Peace was not an option. All knew they would awaken that night. Nut and all his men would die, but they would all die gloriously, in battle with a god. No man could wish for a better end to their dream.
Lord Nut and all his men let out war cries as they rushed the god with spear and axe.
Nine fought one. Nut wanted to at least draw some blood before he was cut down, but the stranger was too fast and skilled, sliding away from all blows and tosses with ease, as he stared only at Nut.
Five fought one, and all five reveled in the ecstasy of such battle and slaughter. A head flew by Nut, and a headless body pressed into him. The stranger could have easily taken Nut’s life at that moment but did not.
Two fought one, and the stranger stared at Nut as he sank his teeth into the neck of Bullet. Nut yelled out a war cry and stabbed his spear at the god’s face. The spear was caught and ripped from his hand. Nut grabbed his axe and swung, and his arm was caught, and he was spun around as his arm was twisted behind him, holding him immobile.
A body falling to the ground with a thud was heard, and Nut was spun back around, though his arm was still held fast. He threw a blow at the god’s face with his left hand, and the god lowered his head a little so Nut’s punch landed on the hard skull. The stranger smiled, and held up his hand again, calling for peace.
Nut threw more blows and tried to break free of the man’s grip. The god just smiled, laughed, and said, “Gad,” and “Yada,” gibberish words that meant nothing to Nut.
Nut’s arm was released, and he was pushed to the ground and sternly told the gibberish words again. He then dove at the legs of the god, which merely resulted in him being grabbed by the neck and lifted into the air.
Nut punched the arm holding him in the air, kicking at the stranger’s body, and received a slap so hard across the face he nearly lost consciousness.
“Gad,” said the god, a smile still on his face. Then, “Yada,” again. Nut spit at the smiling face and got another smack as a reward.
The stranger pointed at his own chest and said, “Ahn. Ahn.” Still dazed from the smacks, it took Nut a moment to realize the stranger was giving him his name. Nut pointed at Ahn and struggled out the word, “Ahn.” He then pointed at his own chest and said, “Lord Nut,” as best he could while being choked so.
Ahn let Nut back to the ground and released his hold of Nut’s neck. That surprised Nut. Both still lived. Battles never ended until at least one party was too injured to continue. Nut went for his flint knife and his wrist was grabbed and held, and Ahn yelled, “Gab!” Ahn put his finger in Nut’s face and again yelled, “Gab! Yada? Gab!”
Thoughts rushed through Nut’s mind. Was he being made a prisoner or slave? No one enslaved warriors. No hold would pay ransom, and every warrior would attack their enslaver until one was dead. It just wasn’t done.
Nut couldn’t make a run for it. No one would follow a cowardly lord that ran from battle, too frightened to awaken from this dream as he should. But he couldn’t hurt the god. And the god didn’t seem interested in killing him. So, he tried to attack again and again and was slapped until he fell unconscious.
Nut regained consciousness as Ahn led the great beast towards the sight of battle and slaughter.
Frustration filled Nut. This wasn’t how his end should be, denied death in honorable battle, humiliated by another man touching his face with impunity.
Nut stood, ready to give what battle he could again, determined to force the god to kill him. Ahn sighed, and Nut noticed the god’s eyes sparkle in a strange way as he spoke. “Ard. Bad ey un tekpi.”
Nut lost control of his own body. He passively walked towards Ahn and could not attack as he stood before the god. Ahn said more gibberish words and Nut held his arms out, wrists facing upwards, as he tried to wrest control of his body back from whatever fell power controlled him.
Ahn opened his own wrists with his teeth, and then opened both of Nut’s wrists too.
The god then grabbed both of Nut’s hands and held them fast as their bleeding wrists were pressed together.
Immediately Nut began to feel sick and odd and heavy. He started to see many weird sights in his head. Creatures so strange he could never have come close to imagining such himself. The beings were far mightier than any god he ever heard of, even the great and mighty Koram, and they seemed to all be maneuvering for position and greater face.
Above all those beings, reigning supreme, was one Being so mighty it was unfathomable, and this Being alone decided who entered the paradise He created.
The way to get into that paradise was so alien to the beliefs and way of life of Nut, he nearly laughed. He knew he would never be able to earn a place there. He would have to reject and forsake the best and most necessary parts of life such as vengeance and most battle and stealing. It required living peacefully and selflessly, doing good deeds to benefit only others, and the deeds had no benefit for the doer at all, and other such foolish nonsense.
Then Nut was given a brief taste of that paradise, and it was so wonderful he decided living so wrongly and foolishly would be worth it if he could earn a place there.
After the brief taste of paradise Nut was given, he was then shown a way to empower himself and grow stronger by taking from the blood of others in the same way he saw Ahn do to Bullet. This power came with many other benefits, including living so long it was no different than living forever. And his life could only be ended prematurely by means such as violence.
Nut knew this power could be his if he accepted it, but before he was allowed to accept, he was shown the price. He would lose something of himself, something important, something bright and intangible in his chest, called a soul, and going to paradise would no longer be possible for him, regardless of how wrongly and selflessly and foolishly he lived.
If Nut accepted the power and lost his soul, when he died, he would go to a very bad place and live there eternally. He was given a taste of that place too. It was cold beyond imagining, completely and utterly dark, and absolutely horrifying. That one, brief moment stretched out for an eternity and burned itself forever into Nut’s mind. He could imagine no worse fate. No fate so hopeless and awful and painful.
When the tiny sample of the cold-dark ended, Nut shook in fright and fear. How could anything so terrible be the fate of even the worst of men, he wondered. His mind reeled from the small taste he was given, and he knew he would never be able to forget it. His mind would always be scarred by the event, and he would do anything to avoid feeling the cold-dark again.
But Nut had to answer the choice he was given. He could accept the strange power he was offered and lose his soul, barring him from ever going to the paradise he knew he’d never earn a place within anyway, and also have the cold-dark as his eventual fate if he were to be killed. Or he could refuse the power, with his uncertain fate placed in the hands of the god in front of him.
Only one path allowed for the possibility of vengeance, and vengeance was core to Nut’s beliefs. His face still burned with shame from where another man touched it. He would accept this power, and grow in strength, and one day take Ahn’s head, and wear it as a trophy. As for the cold-dark? He couldn’t accept that as his fate. He couldn’t. But vengeance. Vengeance was everything. He would just have to live forever to avoid the cold-dark.
Being only seventeen, Nut had no idea just how terrible the promise of forever would be.