It was over.
The King could no longer deny or resist that fact.
He tried to rage against it, just within his heart; to hold on to the pain of defeat, if nothing elseùone silent declaration of rebellion, but he could not hide such a thing from Enlil, king of the Gods.
ôItÆs okay.ö Enlil said. ôBe at peace; to serve me is an honor the likes of which you have never seen.ö
At his words, the hate and the pain almost died. The rebellion almost withered away.
Almost.
A miracle sweeps across him like a storm, and he falls to his knees. For a moment, he can see nothing else; apprehend nothing else; think of nothing else. He can only feel the winds of change wash through his soul.
He didnÆt understandùcouldnÆt understand what had just happened to him or what sort of mark it had left upon him.
But in the wake of that moment, the details didnÆt matter to him.
If heÆd been deaf before, now he could hear.
And what he heard was a simple thingùand yet, glorious in its simplicity.
It was a song.
From the skies rained down the song of Heaven.
The angels sang a song of beauty, justice, and respect.
Their song has no answer to a Mad God, but it desired none.
æYou must be strong enough to overcome this and find your own path,Æ It said. æFor if you cannot find an answer to evil, what worth have you, OÆ King of Heroes?ö
ôYou cannot resist my power, King of Uruk. No one can.ö Said Enlil, who heard nothing.
And before, Gilgamesh would have believed him.
But a thought came to him, in that moment, and for an instant, he almost mistook it for his own.
Lies. It told him, in the voice of one King speaking to another.
And that, Gilgamesh thought, rang with truth.
GilgameshÆs eyes hardened along with his regained resolve.
The voice continued speaking.
The power of an enemy has no bearing on whether he can be resisted.
ôI can make you anything I want you to be.ö
No; he can force you to do what he wants, but he canÆt make you want to do it. Not anymore.
Enlil let go off his head, apparently satisfied that his work was complete.
ôKneel, King of Uruk.ö
Stand, King of Heroes.
The King lifted his eyes and met the GodÆs again.
ôYou are a hero, arenÆt you? Thenàyour God has a mission for you. In this land, there is a foul, evil woman, who wishes to overthrow God. Go then, Gilgamesh; drag her children before her and slay them one by one! Let her see the fate of those who wish to harm God!ö
This time, the voice had nothing to say.
It had no need to.
A righteous fury filled the heart of the King.
He placed a hand on the ground to lift himself up, but it came down upon something smooth and cold and not at all like the stone of the throne roomÆs floor.
There was a length of chain as wide as a grown manÆs arm beneath his hand.
ôLet Enkidu die, but spare Gilgamesh his life.ö Said Enlil.
His fingers slowly curled around all that was left of his friends.
It still hurt. It would always hurt. The way Enkidu had died.
But, he could not help but think as he rose to his feet, that perhaps, it had not been so very long at all, this time they had been apart.
ôW-what are you doing!?ö Enlil demanded.
Gilgamesh looked at him and didnÆt say a word.
The chain in his hands began to writhe, like a snake, growing longer and longer. The sound of metal hitting stone filled the room as dozens, hundreds, and then even thousands of chain links hit and slithered along the ground.
ôStop!ö Enlil ordered, with all the authority of the owner of the Tablet of Destinies.
Gilgamesh ignored him.