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I. THE BEGINNING

be·gin·ning[break]
/bəˈɡiniNG/[break]
noun[break]
1. the point in time or space at which something starts.[break][break]

You are born of An and Nammu, the sky and sea, and so you are not as old as time, but you are "from this point on." You are not as old as time, but you are forever. Your beginning was finite, but you end infinite, an asymptope, by nature an event never reached. [break][break]

They name you Enki. Lord of the Earth.[break][break]

II. THE SWEET WATERS

You are a god. Your achievements:[break][break]
[break]

III. KEEP IT FLOWING

You have all of eternity in your hands and so you seek the new, the interesting, the things that might entertain for a moment. You take great amusement in going to college. You love the way humans break apart the sacred code. They achieve at a breakneck pace and suddenly they've left the ground. They're in the air, on the moon, and you excitedly wait for the day when they break away from their small solar system. You cannot wait for them to see the beauty of everything else the gods have created and continue to create. You stick close to these institutions of knowledge and discovery, these colleges and universities. You become a history professor and after the first thirty years, people begin to ask questions, but cryptic answers and smooth changes of subject make them drop the subject. Centuries pass and your presence has become normal. Freshmen excitedly try to figure out if the rumors are true and seniors crack jokes and cite you on their theses.[break][break]

You grow quickly bored of this.[break][break]

III. THE FAMILY

There is little more fun that power and good trouble and it is that you go to when boredom eats at your bones. You amass power through a dozen different ways and eventually senators, policemen, and countless others sit neatly on your payroll. You build around yourself an empire and they label your game a "mafia." You like the name. It holds a certain power to it and so you take it and run. You have no family that would play this with you, so you outsource. You take in criminals, mostly, ex-cons and those who can't make a living otherwise and with them you build for yourself a new family. People see you now and they bow their heads, kiss the back of your hand. They come to you for favors, for kindness,
and they pledge to you themselves such that you may one day call upon them for assistance. It is fun, watching the way the city changes around you.[break][break]

And then there is a boy, with eyes like the moon that see more than they ought. He knows who you are, that you grant favors, that he should be scared, but he puts on a brave face when you dear counselor throws him on the floor of your office. He claims he came for a favor and you ask him, drill him, on whether or not he understands what he's doing. He sticks his chin into the air ( he's balled his hands to hide the shaking ) and proclaims in a voice he can't steady that he came because the great Alessandro Bonasera helps people and oh, he needs help. He has no home, no family, and hunger gnaws so violently at him. He insists he won't survive the year. Your counselor advises against playing this child's game, but you're intrigued by his bloodied knuckles and bravery. You ask his name, but he doesn't have one, so you give him one yourself.[break][break]

You name him—[break][break]

IV. GRIEF I

You taught him how to read, how to speak properly, and how to play people. You taught him the ins and outs of the world in a way no mortal ever could. He is absolutely brilliant, a delight, a man who never ceases to entertain, delight, and shock. He is careful and calculating and you love the way he bends people under his thumb. They fear, but more than that they respect, they admire, and so he commands their absolute loyalty. You love him absolutely and you swell achingly with love and pride when you talk of him. [break][break]

( Few know what you are. He is one of them. )[break][break]

You knew this would come one day, but you didn't expect it so soon. You hold his body, so cold so still, in your arms and for the first time, you cry, but not even the sweet waters falling from your eyes can bring back your boy. You expected an end, but not this one. The note, the gun, the hole in his head. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.[break][break]

Where did you go wrong? [break][break]

V. GRIEF II

You sit in his room for days and your counselor spins stories for why you're unavailable. You go through his journals. He'd kept them since you brought him into the Family business, but he was good and smart because there was never anything incriminating in the books. Cryptic messages and vague references that only family members would understand. And it is within these journals that it feels like your world is rocked. A side of your son you never knew, the side too ashamed to say that he was hurting, too ashamed to admit that he couldn't fix it on his own, and an absolute wrath bursts forth from within you. ( It overpowers the deep shame that threatens to drag you under. ) You decide it's time to remind people that you are a god, you are Enki, and you are not to be toyed with.[break][break]

You'd trusted her (the thought of it now makes you sick) and she'd abused it. A petty and jealous snake that you want to kill, but shame stills your hands just shy of that. How could you not have seen it? How did you never know? All of it, the hurt she put on your dear son, was all done right under your nose. Never a bruise on the skin, but deep lacerations on his heart. She abused him, tore at him and maimed because you loved him so unconditionally and you didn't love her at all. She saw how he was growing and she feared the realization that she was not your favourite, your most loved, and she sought to tear him down.[break][break]

( This is as much your fault as it is hers. )[break][break]

While you are prone to bouts of anger, one such as this is uncharacteristic and you feel the eyes of your half-brother on you as you tear into the one you once so trusted. The eyes of the king of gods does nothing to deter you this time around and you ignore him as you go about your revenge. When she doesn't scream, so you dig deeper, hurt her more, until she does, until you feel her sounds in your bones. When she doesn't fight back, you bring her to the edge and back her into a corner where flight isn't an option, only fight, and still then you dig deeper. You want her to cry and beg for death to take her, so you can take even greater satisfaction as you deny her even that. Sheer malice and rage drive you forward and you stop only as exhaustion gets the better of you.[break][break]

You trusted her and she ruined everything and because of her, the world will never be as sweet as it once was. You send her away. You chase her away and cut her with the fact that you will never welcome her again. You will never love her, never forgive her, and if you see her again, you will kill her.[break][break]

VI. GRIEF III

You haven't been home in ages, but your wife Ninhursag still welcomes you with open arms and saddened eyes. She knows what has happened and you collapse into her embrace where you weep like you never have before and when you are done the pain does not hurt less, but you believe that it might be easier to cope with. She is concerned, but she knows you will be okay. One day, you will be okay, because you have eternity to grieve. She is patient and she kisses your swollen eyes. She is the anchor that keeps you from despairing, from begging Enlil to once again flood the world and wipe it clean because without him, the world doesn't deserve to exist.[break][break]

Your underworld hasn't seen a new soul in thousands of years and it will probably be like for thousands more. New gods are worshipped and they take fallen souls into their own realms. It is probably for the best, as your own underworld is bleak and unkind, but your son was no saint and that is your fault. So, you grieve again and your grief moves the god of his soul and his sins erased and he is spared a painful eternity. They let you see him once in the heaven he is in, and you fall to your knees before him and apologize with your head to the dirt.[break][break]

It is not your afterlife, though. You cannot visit again.[break][break]

Your wife sends you away and back to earth. That is your joy, she reminds you, and you cannot find your joy again from here. She is right, you know this, but you hate the ghosts that haunt you now. The things that remind you of him, of the future that will never be. [break][break]

VII. THE ISLAND

This isn't your world. Tiamat's tail of stars is nowhere to be seen, nor do her ribs support the sky. You lay in the sand and stare at the dark clouds for as long as it takes for the island's workers to come collect you. You are aware that you cannot go home before they tell you of this. You mourn your son again, who you will never see again. You mourn your wife and your daughter-wives who will certainly mourn you and for eternity will ask, "What happened to Enki?" You wear grief like a second skin, though, and it is but a quiet stirring of the waters.[break][break]

They sit you at a table and ask your name (you lie), what you are (you lie), and where your from (you lie). And then someone somewhere else tries to dig into you. You can feel them dip their fingers into the everything that you art and you try to tell them no, don't, it's not safe, you can't— but it's too late. You can feel the sudden painful static snow in your own consciousness as they are overloaded and break away. You wonder, distantly, if they'll survive. If they do, will it be worth it? How much of them will even be left? You offer a silent prayer as you leave, to whatever gods might rule this realm, if any at all.[break][break]

VI. WATCH YOUR BACK

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