The dawn of a new age was upon me. I, Tarek, a hunter-gatherer from the Zagros Mountains, had taken my first steps on a journey that would change my life forever. For months, my tribe had watched the world around us shift in ways we couldn’t ignore. Where we once roamed the highlands freely, hunting game and gathering wild fruits, the landscape had begun to fill with the presence of farmers. Field after field was cultivated, and the lands where we found our food were being claimed by their crops.
Rumors had reached us for some time. To the west, beyond the great Mesopotamian plains, lay a city unlike any other—Babylon. It was said that water from the rivers was funneled into enormous canals to nourish the land. People built houses from stone and clay, and metals gleamed in the sun. The stories spoke of grand markets where traders from far-off lands sold their wares, a place where life no longer revolved around mere survival but overflowed with wealth and abundance.
A deep thirst for change had begun to grow within me. The hunt still provided food, but it was becoming harder. The herds moved farther away, and the prime hunting grounds were being overtaken by people who had begun to cling to the land. We had always lived in harmony with nature, but I started to realize that the world was changing, and we would need to change with it if we were to survive.
I made my decision. I would leave my homeland, abandon the mountains, and seek a new future in Babylon. Perhaps I wouldn’t be a hunter there, but I would find a way to adapt, to survive in this new world.
Traveling through the Zagros Mountains was no easy task. I carried little with me—just my spear, a flint knife, and a leather cloak to protect me from the cold. The paths were steep and treacherous, but my feet were familiar with the rocky terrain of my homeland. After several days of trekking, the landscape began to change. The towering peaks gave way to rolling hills, the air grew warmer, and the scent of grass and water filled the breeze.
One day, I came across a river and stopped to rest. That’s when I saw them—farmers. They were working in the fields along the riverbank, while their women fetched water. They looked up as I approached, but soon turned back to their work. Their clothing was different from mine—simpler and more suited for laboring in the fields. Their hands were rough from working the soil, but I could see the strength in their eyes—the strength of those who had mastered the land.
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I sensed unease in their gaze. As I raised my hand in a gesture of peace, one of the men shouted something in a language I barely understood. He stormed toward me, gripping a pickaxe, his face twisted in anger. It was clear he didn’t want me near his land. I stood tall, my spear firmly in hand, ready to defend myself if needed. But I didn’t want bloodshed. I understood their fear—I was a stranger, a man of the mountains, someone who might see their fields as prey.
“I am not your enemy,” I said slowly, hoping he would understand. “I am traveling, seeking Babylon.”
His eyes narrowed, but he seemed to recognize my words. He signaled to his companions, and they returned to their work. The confrontation ended, though the tension lingered in the air. This was no longer the land of nomads; it was now the land of farmers, of people who had tied themselves to the earth and built their lives upon it.
Weeks later, after many days of travel, I finally saw the towering walls of Babylon rising on the horizon. The city was even larger than I had imagined. Tall walls surrounded it, and high above stood a ziggurat, a temple that seemed to touch the sky. The Euphrates River flowed through the city, its waters glittering under the late afternoon sun.
As I walked through the gates, I felt small, insignificant. The streets were crowded with people—merchants calling out their wares, artisans crafting their goods, and priests making offerings to the gods. The sound of hammers striking metal filled the air, mixed with the murmur of the crowds and the smell of fresh bread and spices.
I knew I had to build a new life here. Hunting had little value in this place; the land around Babylon had long been tamed by the farmers. But I had other skills. My experience as a hunter had made me adept at working with leather, crafting clothing and tools. I found a leatherworker and offered my services. He looked at my crude leather garments with skepticism, but after a few days, he allowed me to help him craft sandals, bags, and shields.
Gradually, I began to find my place in Babylon. My hands learned the art of leatherworking, and though I hung my spear and knife on the wall, I remained the same man. The hunter from the mountains had changed, but the spirit of survival still lived within me. Babylon offered me a home and a future, one I could never have found in the mountains.
The world was changing, and I was changing with it.