Sunlight trickled down through a cluster of clouds that scattered the brilliant blue skies over Byblos. The morning dew was lifting off the crops and Uriah could smell the moisture in the air. He tried to move, but his beaten body would barely reply, and even if it could, the restraints would not have allowed it. It had been twenty-nine hours since the soldiers lashed him to the pole on the boundaries of his wheat field. The road into the village would have been only a few steps away if he were free to walk. Soon the farmers and traders would be making their way by him on their way to market. Uriah feared the looks in their eyes and the thoughts of what vial deeds he must have committed to be treated as such. However in truth, it mattered little what he did to deserve this, recently the King and his Army had been quick to enact such punishment for even the most minor of indiscretions. Over the next hour, a few farmers had passed by, and most pretended not to notice him. He wondered how much longer his body could endure the immense pain, the endless thirst in his mouth and the empty gnawing of his stomach. A few moments later Uriah heard a bull drawn cart trotting toward him.
He turned his eyes up from the dirt and saw a cart full of various items. The cart was that of a trader from Sidon and she had traveled many days to reach Byblos. Her cart was filled with products from all across the lands of Euraki. Among many other items, she had vases from the west, textiles from the east, furs from the north and fine salt from the south. The bull grunted in the rising heat having been walking for many miles already this morning. The trader grabbed a pail from the cart and paused the bull. Placing the pail on the ground, the bull eagerly lapped up the water. Having noticed the cart’s motion had halted a young boy asleep amongst the textiles stirred. He sat up blinking in the sun and noticed first the endless rows of wheat in either direction. The sound of the bull quenching his thirst turned his attention forward.
His mother was not near the pail keeping a watchful eye to monitor the precious commodity. He leapt from the rear of the cart moving toward the edge of the road. Uriah’s arms were limp with exhaustion as she cut the blood soaked ropes holding him confined. She shifted his body from the pole and gently laid him down on the dry ground. As she turned to return to the cart to fetch some water and fruit, the boy startled her. He smiled and held out a ladle of water and two pomegranates. The woman took them and told him to return to the road and wait for her there.
Abaddon recalled the memories of that distant day as he stood on the road almost twenty years later. He had been walking for the past three days and was looking forward to gazing upon the lush fields of wheat, but to his despair he saw nothing but waste in either direction. The last two decades had been pummeled by a vicious drought that had led to a famine and thousands dead.
The King of the Euraki had been on his deathbed for nearly eight years, but no one dared to take his throne. Rumors that the King had magical powers kept anyone from crossing him except for the King’s only son, Elohim. He had been biding his time for years waiting for his father to grow weak and die. He was growing quite tired of the waiting game and concluded he must slay his father. At the very moment, Abaddon was remembering the kindness and grace of his mother, over a thousand miles away Elohim brutally murdered his father as he slept.
Elohim crowed himself king of Euraki and was reclined on his father’s throne by dawn’s light. Word of the change of power swept through Euraki like a virus in a weak child, spreading uncertainty and unrest. By the end of his second day in power the new King had all of this father’s former advisors put to death for fear they might not transfer their loyalty fully. He filled the vacant posts with his friends who quickly let the power seep into and rot their already feeble brains.
A few months after Abaddon’s mother had saved Uriah from death she lost to it and died of a common disease; leaving Abaddon alone in a bitter and unjust world. Faced with having to fend for himself Abaddon could have easily disregarded his mother’s teaching and turned to villainy. However, he stuck by the many lessons taught by his mother and managed to skimp by. Abaddon saw the world through the eyes of his mother and did not fully understand the bleakness of existence for most of the population.
He had been in Byblos for almost a week before he felt the full vigor of how twisted fate could be. As night fell on Abaddon’s sixth day in Byblos, he made his way to the market to try to broker some last minute deals before his early morning departure. Upon finishing a transaction with a local spice dealer, the calm of the market was disturbed when a group of soldiers seized a middle-aged man in the center of the courtyard.
The man lurched backwards on the ground retreating from spear point. Although time had been harsh on the man’s features Abaddon recognized the man. The event of his mother that day on the road was vivid in his memory and the man cowering on the dirt was Uriah. Abaddon made his way to the front of the gathering crowd and caught the man’s attention. Uriah did not see the boy from the road, but an unfamiliar face new to town.
By new decree of the King, all crimes, no matter the severity, would be punished by execution. Uriah could not allow the soldiers to drag him off to his death. A particularly large soldier grabbed his shoulder as Uriah yelled, “Wait!”
Uriah pleaded with them, “It was not me who stole the parcels, I promise you.”
The large soldier leaned down and boomed, “If it was not you, then who?”
Uriah searched his mind for an answer, but could not find one. He again noticed the foreign face in the crowd and figured he was of no consequence. Without a word, Uriah moved his filthy finger up from the dirt and firmly pointed at Abaddon. Immediately another soldier plucked Abaddon from the crowd. He tried to resist, but it was of no use. He fruitlessly beseeched the soldiers as they drug him out away from the market.


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