HERITAGE
OF TRUTH
(A Post Flood Story)
Copyright© Janice Moore
1998
 Shemesh,
the servant sun, had transversed the skies over the new face of the earth for
centuries since the Great Flood, silent witness to its troubled resurrection.
Generations would pass before the new rules of nature would conform to any appearance
of stability. Even then, the world that unfolded contrasted starkly with the near
paradise like character of the antediluvian world. Vast stores of human knowledge
had been lost, forgotten, or ignored as irrelevant to survival in this strange
new world. Most of the new ways were born of necessity, but others were simple
foolishness disguised as knowledge. In time, that foolishness would manifest itself.
Mankind lifted up shemesh from the position of servitude to that of a creator,
trading the light of Truth for mere shadows. The absurdity of that glorification
reached its supreme height of folly when the human race, united under the banner
of the son of Kush, built for itself a mighty tower. Confusion followed that ill-omened
human endeavor. The earth staggered from the chaos that followed. And legends
took shape from the memory of the one who gave birth to that chaos, the Mighty
Hunter. He was the first Mighty One after the Flood, the Mighty Hunter
of Men's Souls. As it is said, behind every mighty man is a woman. It was
she who instructed her husband in the ways of conquering the world's soul. Destined
to be remembered for eons as the Queen of Heaven, and by a thousand other names
and titles. Beautiful was she; adored by most. There was one, however, called
Nvard, nicknamed the Seeker, whose devotion turned to horror as she recognized
the deception subtly being spread by the Mighty Hunter and his wife. Nvard
did not start out as a seeker. Nevertheless, when Truth found her, she accepted
the responsibility. Lifelong friendships were severed by that one decision. Others,
priceless in value, were forged. Hard times followed that decision, but the blessings,
evident in the sparkle and clarity showing in the eyes of her children, grandchildren,
and great-grandchildren surpassed all the dark memories.
 More
than twenty children crowded around Nvard, respectfully waiting for the stories
to begin. To determine her exact age was humanly impossible, only that she was
ancient. Still, within the old visage existed traces that whispered of the beauty
that had been hers long ago, beauty that owed only a small part to that of her
outer being. Cinnamon colored hair had long ago lost its stunning glory, to be
softened by the encroachment of maturing white. Unable to wait any longer, one
of the youngest children broke the silence. "Grandmother?" Anahit's small shy
voice queried. "Tell us again about the downfall of the Mighty Hunter. The one
they called Nimrod," adding hastily, the question that had been foremost in her
mind since the salt traders had left earlier that day, "And, his wife. Was she
his wife, or, his mother?" Nvard shivered at the thought that the heresies
of the world could find even a whispered voice in the minds of her cherished loved
ones. Her thoughts slipped down the path of memories to her distant youth. Just
as she had many times before, Nvard wondered if it would not be wiser to keep
the children ignorant of the ways of the world, then remembered, that misled curiosity
can be costly. One did not have to be ignorant in order to be innocent; best to
be 'wise as a serpent, and gentle as a lamb.' Yes, much better that the children
learn about Truth at an old woman's knee than the twisted version they would inherit
from the world. Carefully the Grandmother answered, "The ones you speak of; crafty
were they, like the Serpent of the Garden whom they worshipped."  From
the mouth of proud Haik, now almost a man, came the incredulous words, " They
worshipped the Serpent? Why?"
"They preferred lies over truth," answered
Nvard, as simply as she could, images of the past forming in her mind's eye.
The ancient woman's thoughts once again crossed into the world of her past, to
the night when she first acknowledged the duplicity of the leadership of those
she had come to love and trust. Memories of strong emotions followed, so vivid
that she was all but taken back bodily to that time. Shame enveloped her. Ignorance
was to her a bitter herb. Truth revealed itself to be so obvious, so mysteriously
simple. With her own eyes she had witnessed, her presence unknown, her friend
and mentor, the lady Sammuramat, pass a newborn child through the sacred flame
to her husband, the head priest, or 'kahna' of Baal. In shock, unable to look
away, she watched the unholy ceremony progress, as the lower orders of the priesthood
disrobed showing bodies covered in tattoos. One tattoo, covering the back of one
of the priests, in particular caught her attention. It depicted a resplendent
red serpent swallowing its own tail. Inside the circle this strange emblem formed
was a tree. Her almost hypnotic concentration on that image was quickly severed
by the next stage of the rite, more shocking than all she had seen before. The
child was laid upon an altar. Nvard watched helplessly as one of the priests,
she had noticed earlier as wearing the robes of an initiate, raised his hands
. . . . Nvard never remembered how she managed to leave that place without being
discovered. Surely, the wretched spasms that had overtaken her did not pass in
silence.  Nvard
slept not that night, as her reflections made attack on her naiveté without mercy.
How could she have been beguiled into believing in the benevolence of her Lugal,
Nimrod, and his lady, Sammuramat? The rumors had been true! As she realized for
the first time that the horror stories of death and torture . . . the unthinkable
was true, Nvard's heart broke. Had not she and Sammuramat been childhood friends?
She remembered the childhood stories they had both listened to, of the Evil One
who fathered chaos into the first world. How he cunningly spun an illusion of
lies around the truth known in the heart of the first woman, the one who would
in time become the "Mother of all Living", "the Lady-of-the-Rib". Nvard's soul
cried out in trepidation for sake of the foolishness of her imagination. Those
she looked upon as saviors, were no more than servants of the Master of Chaos,
and she, Nvard, an unsuspecting pawn. The next morning, knowing what she must
do, but not sure in the knowledge of how, Nvard searched out the man, Ara, who
first called her The Seeker. Shemesh was half way through its daily journey
in the sky when Nvard finally caught up with the hunter Ara. She found him in
the market area conversing with a master metal worker. For the first time, since
the discoveries of the night before, Nvard felt safe. She wondered at the strangeness
of the feeling, and for a fleeting moment forgot why she had come in search of
this man, as upon seeing her, dark-haired Ara's blue eyes took on that warm gentle
quality Nvard found so comforting. "May this day be a blessing to you,
Seeker," he had said in greeting. "And, how does this wondrous day find you?" In
that moments' hesitation that followed, he must have sensed something amiss, for
turning abruptly he concluded his business with the tradesman. With that accomplished,
Ara again turned his attention upon her. "Walk with me, Nvard. Perhaps the shadows
lurking behind your eyes will go back to the dark spirits that gave them birth."
With gradually lessening trepidation she told him everything that had been revealed
to her the night before. To her astonishment, he listened patiently without indicating
any sign of disbelief, only gently asking questions when she feared to go on.
When she came to the end, he surprised her with a final question, "Do you know
why I call you 'The Seeker'?" Her tawny colored eyes looked into his blue
ones, as she answered, "No", in a small voice. Nvard fidgeted with the hem of
her draped wrap. The question seemed so strange. "All who hold truth close
to their bosom are Seekers. It is promised to those who seek, that they shall
find." Years went by before she understood what truly transpired that day.
Life began to follow a different path; one more narrow, more sure, than any she
had known before, bringing blessings, and affliction. Afflictions that were tempered
and fated to be outweighed by the blessings that belong to those who know the
One who is the real 'Seed of Promise.' Promised from the beginning, to enter His
own creation by the seed of a woman to pay the price of all wrongs. Shepherding
her thoughts back to the present, Nvard asked her little ones, "Do you like mysteries?"
"Yes," they all eagerly chimed in at once. Gently smiling, Nvard
continued, "Most of us enjoy a good mystery. In his wisdom, The Creator, gave
all of us the longing to understand things. The Deceitful One, he that is known
as the Fiery Dragon, knew this, and devised a plan to make use of man's curiosity
for his own purposes. This creature enchanted the first woman, tempting her to
question the very Word of He who is Truth. In time, the distance between man and
Creator grew wider. Man intentionally set out to push God completely out of the
world, or at least to a position where they could control Him, as if they were
the creators. They searched out ways to add to the confusion that imperfect minds
lean towards. They called upon those Watchers, those created spirits, who chose
to follow the Father of Lies into his exile. Great evil was brought into the world
that was already groaning in travail for its fallen state. Patiently the All-Knowing-One
waited, until no room for patience was left. Then the world that once was, disappeared
under the waters. One family was spared, because of the father. Confusion, however,
was not completely wiped from the seed of man. Not long after the Deluge, the
ways of the Old World that perished were brought into the new, under the cloak
of mysteries woven from the fabric of truth, bound by lies, and developed to seduce
mankind away from Truth. In mercy, the All-Powerful-One divided the speech of
man until the time of prophecy fulfilled, in order that the separation between
Creator, and creation would not grow so wide as to be everlastingly."
Pausing for breath after such a long speech, Nvard looked into the faces of the
young ones sitting at her feet. She noted the delicate face of little Anahit,
her dear sister Biaina sitting quietly beside her, and as her glance touched upon
the quick tempered Vahagn, the wizened woman swiftly closed her eyes in obeisance
to her Lord. Silently praying that only those words which God would have her say
would leave her mouth, she opened her eyes and continued, "It has been said that
the Mighty Hunter was reborn after death. That he knew his wife; and lived again,
more powerful than before, fulfilling the sacred prophecy of the Seed of Woman.
This is not true." "A man can not be reborn!" came the dubious exclamation
from Vahagn. "As you say, Vahagn, it is not physically possible. But our
spirits must be reborn, of the incorruptible seed, which comes only from the True
Branch." Knowing that she could explain this no better at this time, she continued.
"In my youth, wisdom was far from me. I was without purpose, without anything,
except the knowledge of how to exist. . . . So I thought. The All-Powerful-One
was always with me; the Father, who loves His wayward creation always watched
over me, and the Spirit that led the one who lived in two worlds across the Flood
always guarded my heart. I did not know Him in my youth, but He always knew me.
Even the Queen of Heaven, and her consort, the Mighty Hunter, could not keep me
from hearing the Eternal One. He knew my very depths, and in the knowing made
good even that meant for evil. As shemesh made a final descent in the sky,
she told the children how Bel, the confounder fell, and of mankind's heritage
of Truth.
THE END
More
Short Stories by Janice Moore...
DISCLAIMER: The previous story is a work of Speculative Fiction, based
in part on ancient Armenian & other legends of the Near East.
FOR
FURTHER READING: -
The preceding link sums up many
of the legends I have found while doing background research on legends of Nvard,
Ara 'the fair' legendary first king of Armenia, Nimrod, and Semiramis. Much of
the concept behind my short story Heritage of Truth: A Post Noah Flood Story
and other SeekerWorld Stories is loosely based on these legends) -
The above link is to a commentary I wrote on Woodrow's criticism of Hislop's book
The Two Babylons.
In this review much of my own research findings to date pertaining to the validity
of equating Semiramis / Sammur-amat are summarized. The following is a snippet
quoting my own material from that review: "There is speculation that perhaps
there was an earlier Semiramis, but at this point I have not been able to even
establish if Sammuramat and Semiramis are indeed the same name, one being the
Assyrian form and the latter being the Greek equivalent. The truth seems to be
that the name Sammuramat..." read more
A
History of Armenia by Vahan M. Kurkjian - NEW! -
This new link is reminding me that I really have to write up a summary of my own
research that specifically addresses the Semiramis Legend in particular. The section
of the book refered to above deals with the legends pertaining to Shamiram (Semiramis),
Nimrod and Ara the Handsome and other relevant legendary people and ancient history
such as the Tower of Babel. The cursory reading I've been able to dedicate to
the above entry so far seems to substantiate much of my own conclusions. - The traditional Christian
view (espoused by the Late Rev. Alexander Hislop
writings such as The
Two Babylons or The Papal Worship Proved to be the Worship of Nimrod and His Wife)
that the legendary Greek Semiramis is the same as the earlier historical Assyrian
Queen Samur-amat seem to trace solidly back only as far back as the histories
of Diodorus Siculus (circa 90-21BC) a contemporary of Julius Caesar and Augustus,
and then ... Before that the equating of Semiramis and Sammuramat is from what
I can best discern circumstantial and confusing, based on a lot of assumptions
but nothing solid. Jewish Legends of Nimrod's Wife seem to possibly trace back
to the Babylonian Captivity Period...confusing before that... And remember Jewish
legends of Lilith being the first wife of Adam (contradicting Genesis account
in the Bible) also appear to have originated from this time period... ALSO
RECOMMENDED: A number of links collected on this page of my site - Ancient
History and Technology, Lost Civilizations, Myth And Legend |
