Chapter 3: Yala Meets Heavenly Lord
The men discussed until midnight.
As the atmosphere grew heated, they began to plan their future as if they were bragging.
They spoke of wild and impractical fantasies.
They said they would turn the village into a castle so their daughters could become princesses. They said they would build a garden of terrifying size on the plains, so the people of Argos would eat only their grapes. Some even boasted that they would build a great ship, carry a boatload of soldiers, and sail down the river straight to Argos...
They squeezed grape juice to serve as wine. Lacking cups, they gathered around a battered barrel full of grape juice, using their hands as vessels to scoop it up and gulp it down.
This was the happiest night for everyone since the disaster struck...
The banquet finally came to an end in the latter half of the night.
As they were about to leave.
The old man called out to Yala, rolled up the map, and handed it to him.
Yala was very surprised. Just as he was about to ask a question, the old man interrupted him.
"You seemed quite interested in this map just now?"
Yala nodded.
The old man also nodded and continued, "This map was given to me by your father long ago, and it helped me a lot... Then the disaster came. Your father died, and my children all died too..."
At this, both the old man and Yala's expressions grew a bit somber.
"Now, I am returning it to its original owner. Of course, there's no need to thank me; it should have been yours anyway... You will be the village chief in the future, and you should have a good map by your side. It will help you a lot."
Yala thanked him and accepted the map.
The old man smiled and bid Yala farewell. He watched Yala's figure disappear into the night before slowly returning to his own empty tent alone.
...
Yala carefully tucked the scroll with the map into his robe. The scroll trembled slightly against his chest, still continuously emitting a gentle glow.
He felt like a walking torch, yet the people around him never noticed anything unusual.
When he returned to the tent he shared with his wife, the bonfire outside had already died out. From inside the tent came the steady and light sound of snoring; his wife was already asleep.
Yala first opened the scroll and studied it outside for a while. Only he could perceive the dazzling golden light, and only he could discover the golden text hidden beneath the map.
"Ya... Hua... Ye... Wan."
After studying it for a long time, Yala still couldn't figure out what it was and could only temporarily give up.
Late at night.
Yala tossed and turned, thinking about everything that had happened today. First, the inexplicable bad luck, then the strange glowing map, and those two words he had blurted out—'Canaan'. He didn't even know how to write the word 'Canaan'.
Yala leaned against a bundle. Unable to sleep, he intended to go out for some fresh air.
While he was at it, he took out that strange scroll.
He found a spot to relieve himself.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit him. He hurriedly opened the scroll and returned to the vicinity of the tent.
He looked at the glowing letters in his hand—
[YHVH]
"Ye-wei..."
"Ya-wei..."
"Ya-wei..."
"Yahweh!"
The next moment—
The scroll in his hand suddenly burst with incomparable light. An eye seemed to open in the vault of heaven, and a pillar of golden light descended from the pitch-black night sky, shining upon the scroll and illuminating that sacred name—
[Yahweh]
Yala was startled, illuminated by that piercing holy light.
He involuntarily closed his eyes.
And when he opened them again.
What he saw was a scene he would never, ever forget in his entire life. Even after his death, as long as the sun remained and the moon endured, this memory would be passed down through bloodline and faith to an eternal future that even time could not reach.
He saw—
Dreamlike clouds and mist surrendering beneath His feet.
A twisted, night-raven-like dark mist evil god, acting like a plaything in His hands.
A sacred and great phantom that Yala simply could not see clearly with his mortaleyes, as if He did not exist in this world. Yet, an inviolable, oracle-like intuition warned him—
He must be omnipresent.
Yala had heard some legends about the "gods": the King of Gods who ruled thunder and the sky, the Sun God who drove a divine steed, the Sea God who ruled storms and the ocean, and so on...
But intuition told him that these so-called "gods," in the presence of the being before him, could probably only consider themselves "mortals"...
His greatness was like a divine decree.
All that exists shall know; all who know shall worship.
Yala knelt on the ground in the crudest, most devout posture.
The worship and shock in his heart were deeply engraved in the depths of his soul, more devout than worshipping hurricanes and thunder, more sincere than worshipping the sun and the earth.
"I... I... How should I address You?"
Yala trembled with excitement.
For a long time, that great existence made no movement.
Yala turned pale with fear, not daring to move.
He thought his rudeness had angered this being.
But in the next moment.
A sacred voice sounded, seeming to come from the horizon yet also appearing to be right next to his ear.
That voice was as loud as the roar of ten thousand thunders, the beat of ten thousand drums, yet also like a gentle breeze blowing past, the soft hum of an insect, the call of an old man, or the laughter of a child. This voice contained the sounds of all things, or rather, the sounds of all things originated from Him—
[Yahweh.]
After this voice came another, ancient and hoarse, yet carrying a hint of a put-on tone—
[You must call Him The Lord, or Heavenly Lord; do not speak His True Name lightly.]
"Heavenly... Heavenly Lord."
Yala prostrated himself in fear and trepidation, worshipping once more.
...
And when Yala opened his eyes again.
Everything before him had vanished.
In its place was the brightening sky and his wife's earnest, worried calls.
"Yala!"
"Yala, what's wrong with you!"
Yala gradually woke up. His mind was a bit messy and groggy. After taking a sip of cold water with a hint of grape juice flavor from the wooden bucket his wife handed him, Yala finally came to his senses.
"What happened to you? Last night I heard you suddenly collapse by the door; it gave me quite a scare."
Yala wiped his face and swallowed hard before saying with delayed realization,
"You might not believe it if I told you..."
"Last night, I met the True God."
?
His wife showed a confused expression.
"Yes, maybe it was a dream... but I feel like it must be real."
Yala then took out the scroll with the map, only to find that there was no so-called golden light on it at all, which made Yala hesitate again.
"Could it really have been a dream?"
Yala was somewhat undecided.
Seeing her husband's unusual state, his wife was worried and said, "You must be too tired lately. Even if Zeus were to summon you, you still need to rest well."
Yala nodded. Even if "Yahweh" or "The Lord" had truly summoned him.
He still had to rebuild his home properly first.
However, Yala still kept that scroll with him.
He felt that this scroll was very important.
...