I have attached to this account the Story of Abudimus, taken from the Book of Universal Cosmography, which does indeed exist. Among the treasures I recovered from the cannibals in Myz, it is my most prized possession. I have placed this excerpt here to help ease my tortured memory so I can set further events to page.
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There once was a man named Abudimus who dwelt in the lands west of what was formerly Al-Lisān. While he was tilling his field, the word of the Potentate came unto him
“Go to the great city of Sarnath and rebuke them, for their wickedness has come up before me. They have fallen before an idol.”
But Abudimus was greatly troubled, for he knew the cruelty of the men of Sarnath. Reasoning that they would torture and kill him, he instead chose to flee by the empty sea that connects all things. He boarded a ship bound for the land of Oriab, a place on the border between day and night. Along the journey, the Potentate blew a great wind, and a violent storm beset the vessel. The sailors saw a man walking amidst the tumultuous light, and a voice sounded from the heavens.
“Deliver my servant to me!”
Unsure of these words, the captain consulted Abudimus, who told him that the sea was troubled on his account. The men tried to make for land, but the storm grew ever more violent. Fearing for their lives, the sailors took hold of Abudimus, and they proclaimed loudly to the Potentate.
“Forgive us for taking this man’s life! Do not hold us accountable, for You have done as you pleased.”
They flung him to the hatch, and the sea plucked him overboard. He tumbled through the darkness, and a beast of deep song took him to the land of Atropos. There, the wide and grassy meadows grow the color of ghosts, and white asphodels spring up from the soil of freshly tilled graves. Abudimus wandered this barren land for three days and three nights, eating and drinking nothing, for Atropos is a land where food cannot grow, and water flees from touch. Those who dwell there do so by consuming the blood of living, which is the only thing that can sustain them.
Abudimus suffered greatly in his travel, yet his fear was such that he remained adamant that he would not go to Sarnath. On the third day, he came upon a man named Marius, who was a gravedigger by profession and a most honorable man. He was drawing water from a stone well and pouring it out onto the ground.
“For what purpose are you doing this?” Abudimus asked, puzzled by the behavior of this man.
“I am searching for my wife,” Marius replied. “Evil men seized her from me and threw her in a well, though I do not know which one. I must search every well until I find her again. Then we shall depart from this land to Arcadia.”
“What a terrible fate! I have come to this land because I refused to preach to the people of Sarnath. Even now, the Potentate curses and humbles me. For what sin were you punished?”
“I committed no sin.”
Abudimus was greatly confused. “It is people who breed trouble for themselves. The Potentate raises the mighty and turns out the downcast. On his right he places his blessed and on his left the accursed. The former he bestows a great bounty and the latter He drives into the desert, where there is a great gnashing of teeth. If you are so loved, why did he not reach out his hand to protect a favored son?”
“I do not know.”
“Then you claim injustice against the Potentate? That he punishes the righteous and rewards the wicked?”
“I do not. I sing the praises of the Most High. If it be his wish, may he crush me in the palm of his hand! From his hand, he molded me in the womb, and by his hand, I shall one day enter his embrace. I am but dust before Him.”
“You are a fool for saying so!” Abudimus was frustrated, for he believed his actions just. “What sort of Master demands such loyalty from a servant? I tell you, the Potentate is fickle and commands the impossible. He sends his soldiers ungirded into their enemy. He tells his workers to reap from fields He has not sown. He delivers his faithful sons to be scourged by torturers. And now I am stranded in this desolate land because I committed the grave crime of fearing my death!”
A spirit of the Potentate was greatly distressed upon hearing Abudimus’ blasphemy, for he was charged with his protection. Fearing for the man’s soul, he raced beyond Okeanos to the celestial palace where the Potentate reigns. Falling on his knees, he entreated the Potentate.
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“Master! Despair has gotten the better of your son, who you commanded me to protect for all his days. I beg you! Despise him not to fall to Perdition! Amend his ways and see him come back to faith.”
The Potentate was moved to pity, for the spirit had raced the great distance to Him ten thousand times before, and as the man’s end drew near, the spirit had run all the more hurriedly.
“I shall go to him.” The Potentate assured the worried spirit.
Appearing before the two of them, He first turned to Marius, who had unswervingly sought his wife for forty years. “You have indeed not sinned against me. And for your faith, go and draw your wife from the well. I shall lead you both to Arcadia where you may be happy for the rest of your days.”
At once, the woman surfaced from the waters and cried out from the well. Marius quickly drew her out and embraced her, kissing her many times in joy. They both fell prostrate before the Potentate, praising His name.
The Potentate turned to Abudimus and rebuked him. “You fool among men to question My judgement! Where were you when I created the heavenly spheres? Tell me their sizes, since you claim to know so much! How did I measure them for the delight of My Bride? How were their foundations poured? Where were you that spectacular morning when the stars gathered in chorus and sang with joy? Do you know the laws of the heavens? Can you set up your dominion over all?”
Abudimus beat his chest and cried out, seeing the glory in but one finger of the Potentate’s hand. “I cannot, Oh Master! I am unworthy—how shall I reply to you? I shall put my hand over my mouth and bow my head, for no answer can justify me. I shall be your whipping slave.” And at that, Abudimus fell to his knees.
Yet even this did not satisfy the Potentate. “I shall reveal to you what shall be lost and revealed again. The Day is coming when I shall wipe every tear from every cheek, and death shall be no more. I have planned much good for you, Abudimus, and not evil. I send you armored with legions of my spirits. My servants reap what I have sown from the beginning and before. I deliver my only Son for your sake, that those scourges do not fall upon your back. Rise Abudimus! Go to Sarnath not with trepidation but with joy; for I will be there to carry your burdens alongside you.”
Abudimus rose, and the beast of deep song took him back to the shores of Al-Lisān. He traveled to the ringed city of Sarnath, built on the banks of the river Ai. On his way, he preached repentance to the people of the land. Word spread, and many converted away from the idol. Becoming a nuisance, the priests had him seized and dragged to the king’s court.
The king’s name was Manessah, and he had stolen a black obelisk as his god and throne. Before his feet was an altar where men, women, and children were offered. Seeing this prophet, the king bade a man be divided on the altar. The flesh was gathered in bowls and the blood was poured into chalices.
Manessah raised a chalice and offered it to Abudimus. “Drink of this blood, and you might still save this man, for his blood will become your own.”
Abudimus refused. “Repent and throw down your idol.”
Manessah raised a bowl and offered it to Abudimus. “Eat of this flesh, and you will live many times beyond your years, for his flesh will become your own.”
Abudimus refused. “Repent and throw down your idol.”
Manessah took a chisel and hammered out a piece of the obelisk. Pouring the blood on the monolith and molding the flesh to the open wound in the rock, he then returned to Abudimus and offered the rock. “Gouge this into your head, and you shall become like the Potentate, for you shall become the obelisk.”
Abudimus refused. “Repent and throw down your idol.”
The king grew furious and ordered the prophet to be struck with a sword. A soldier plunged his blade into Abudimus’ abdomen, and the prophet fell. However, Abudimus rose just as quickly and pulled the sword out unharmed. Manessah ordered the prophet to be fed to lions, but the animals licked at the prophet’s hands. The king ordered Abudimus to be thrown into a cell and starved.
The prophet called out from the cell and his words reached Manessah on his profane throne. “You fool! In my iniquity, I was starved with no food or drink. Now it is my triumph!”
The king brought the prophet out of his cell and ordered him hung on a rope. The prophet remained on the rope for three days and nights, preaching to the people of Sarnath. There, he converted many back from their idolatrous ways. Manessah ordered him cut down and thrown in a pot of boiling oil. Abudimus bathed and washed himself.
Manessah commanded Abudimus to prove he was more powerful than the obelisk. Abudimus replied that he was naught but a man, and the Potentate would strike it. At that moment, a great earthquake shook the city, and a crack split up the obelisk. A great shriek of pain cried out in the chamber, so terrible that the two guards nearest the obelisk dropped dead on the spot. All but Abudimus were forced to cover their ears until the scream stopped.
Growing at his wit’s end, Manessah did not know what to do. The words of Abudimus carried into his throne room always, and his people were defying their sacrifices. At last, the king locked himself in the throne room. With crowds of people surrounding his palace, he finally fed himself to that black obelisk. The people of Sarnath broke down the doors and rushed to the throne room. However, they discovered the throne room was empty of both the king and the obelisk.
They offered a crown to Abudimus, but he refused it, as a foreigner should not rule over another people. Freeing the prisoners of Manessah doomed for sacrifice, they gave the crown to Hezekiah, who was a righteous man that had refused to bow down before the idol. Abudimus remained in Sarnath for seven years, driving out secret worshippers who hid in the city.
On the seventh, he departed from Sarnath to preach to the surrounding lands where he was ambushed by worshippers who had been hiding in the wilderness. They bound him to a pyre and set it ablaze.
Abudimus cried out from the flames. “Accept my life for them! For I know the pain of blasphemy!” And he continued to preach from the pyre for three hours until he finally fell silent.
One of the worshippers who was converted at the blaze took his body. Promising the others he would throw it to the beasts, he instead returned to Sarnath so it could be buried. As accounting for the obelisk, it would appear several more times across the centuries, always with a great crack and a man sat headless on a blackened throne.