The Flood of Azarah

Thunder roared, a lightning bolt connected the sky and the earth sending a chill up Humbaba’s spine. Dark, ominous clouds covered the sun– casting the world in darkness.

“Storm’s coming,” Zimu said walking up to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders to get his attention.

“Yes.” Humbaba turned with a tragic smile on his face. He looked at Zimu’s brown eyes and could see his sadness being reflected in them.

“Let’s get into the ark.” Zimu urged him. He looked behind her and saw the great ark he had built. Collect the seeds of living animals, the Gods had instructed him, Build a ship and save them all. Sorrow filled his heart as he walked up the ramp to the deck, This is wrong, he thought, stopping midway.

“What is it, Humbaba?” Zimu asked in a soft, soothing voice. She placed her small hands on his chest and looked at him with earnest eyes. No, this is petty! he concluded.

“I need to do something.”

“The Storm’s coming, Humbaba.”

“Yes, Zimu, the storm’s coming!” Humbaba descended the ramp and dashed across the field into the grove, I have to stop them, he thought. He stopped short in front of a curved intertwined stem of bristlecone pine and began digging. “I’ve to stop them Methuselah,” he talked to the great pine tree, “Even if it means death.”

From the hole, he pulled a skin bag and dusted it off with his bleeding fingers. “If I die, Methuselah,” he talked to the great pine tree, “Zimu will take care of you.”

Humbaba breathed out and folded his hands together. He chanted a little prayer under his breath and a portal opened up. Steeling, he jumped through the portal and landed on his knees on the other side, “Humbaba,” an angry voice greeted him, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“Oh great Isimud, the messenger of Azarah,” Humbaba said bowing his head in honor, “I’ve come to meet the Almighty, King of Gods Azarah.”

“Didn’t he tell you to be in the boat!” Isimud rolled his eyes and let him through. Humbaba dashed through the twisting corridors and found himself staring at a massive, golden door with diamonds and sapphire doorknobs. Humbaba heard angry, indistinguishable voices from the other side, I’ve to do this, he steeled himself and pushed the doors open.

The voices stopped talking and he was greeted by cold stares of angry gods, “Humbaba!” Azar the Prime Minister to the King of Gods spoke. His voice reflected Azarah’s anger and scared Humbaba to his bones.

“Oh mighty Azarah,” Humbaba began, “The King of Gods. The God of Storm and Floods. The creator of Mankind.”

“Out with it,” Azar said. Humbaba looked at him from the corner of his eyes and cursed him silently.

“Please, Oh Mighty Azarah, I ask you to forgive mankind. I beg you to give us another chance. Despite all the evil, we have good in our hearts and I ask you to guide us. Hold our hands and steady us. Oh Mighty Azarah, please forgive us.” Humbaba bowed low, the skin bag pricked against his thighs.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Azarah said in a thunderous voice, “Mankind needs to start fresh.”

“Yes,” Humbaba agreed, “Mankind needs to start fresh, but we don’t need to die. Please Oh Might Azarah, give us a chance to right our wrong, to start fresh.”

“Mankind must die,” Azarah said.

“I cannot let that happen, Oh Mighty Azarah,” Humbaba said solemnly.

“You dare defy me?” Azarah got up from his throne and walked up to Humbaba, “Rise, so that I can look the fear in your eyes when I kill you.”

Humbaba rose to his feet and held Azarah’s icy stare with steely nerve, “I cannot let mankind die, I know we have light in our hearts.”

Azarah grabbed Humbaba by the throat and lifted him. Humbaba struggled to breathe, darkness began to grow in his eyes. He fumbled to his pocket and found the skin bag, “What is this?” Azarah said.

Humbaba pulled a small, black dagger with silver hilt and a diamond pummel and stabbed it in Azarah’s eyes. He screamed in pain and dropped Humbaba to his knees, “This is Dagger of Death.” Humbaba flashed it. He got to his feet and ran towards Azarah, stabbing him in the heart, “If God cannot forgive us, then who can? We need another chance.”