Kenan, son of Enosh

1301 BF (before the flood)

 

 

“How is this possible?” I asked no one in particular as I approached a wall that stretched left and right at the edge of the forest. I couldn’t see where it ended either way due to the tree growth surrounding me. Gray stone at the bottom gradually faded into mud bricks that rose to at least twice my height.

 

My first instinct was to jump to attempt to reach the top. When that didn’t work initially, I backed up and ran at the wall, thinking I may be able to push up from the rock at the bottom to get more height. The actual result was my foot slipping on the rock and my face smacking into the brick. I slid down and lay on my back in the grass. As I stared up at blue sky through green leaves, I heard a voice.

 

“What did you do that for?”

 

It sounded like a boy with the crackling that usually came with transition to manhood. I wanted to look around to find the source, but my head ached and staying still sounded better.

 

“Do what?” I asked the sky.

 

“You ran into the wall. I’ve never seen anyone do that on purpose.”

 

“I didn’t run into the wall on purpose,” I responded while rubbing my head. “I was trying to get over the wall.”

 

“Well, that’s dumb,” the voice said. “You can’t climb over this wall. My dad says even giants wouldn’t be able to climb this wall.”

 

In frustration, I propped myself up on my elbows and searched around for my newest critic. I swiveled my head left and right before finally looking up. At the top of the wall was a raven-haired boy, watching my every move. He waved when he realized that I had seen him.

 

“A giant could definitely climb that wall,” I said. 

 

The boy shook his head. “No way. The Nephilim helped us build this wall. They know everything.”

 

“What’s a Nephilim?” I asked, finally hoisting myself from the ground.

 

“Oh, they’re the coolest,” the boy said excitedly. “Nephilim taught us everything, like how to build stuff and how to win a fight. Do you want to meet one? They have their own city, but a couple like to stay here to help out.”

 

“Sure,” I responded, “but how am I going to get over the wall?”

 

“How do you think anyone gets in and out of town?” He asked. “Go around to the front gate.”

 

“What’s a gate?”

 

He pointed to the left. “Just follow the wall that way. I’ll meet you at the opening.”

 

I headed in the direction the boy had sent me. The trees and wall eventually opened up to a field where cows and horses were grazing. I turned the corner and found my way to a gap in the wall large enough for a herd to pass through. The boy was waiting for me there. He was quite thin but tall enough that he was nearly eye-to-eye with me. Fine black hairs had popped out from random places on his face and neck, not yet forming anything resembling a beard.

 

“Irad.” He waved a long-fingered hand.

 

“What? No,” I responded. “I’m not a fugitive.”

 

“It’s my name,” he told me. “My father found it funny. He says I was always running around, getting into trouble.”

 

“Oh. My name is Kenan.”

 

Irad indicated for me to follow him as he entered the city hidden behind the wall. “So, if you’re not a fugitive, Kenan, why are you wandering through the woods by yourself?”

 

“I left my village because I wanted to see new things,” I told him. “Great Grandfather Adam is an excellent leader and we were all prospering, but there’s only so much to see and do if never leave home.”

 

“Adam?” Irad stopped walking. “You come from the first village?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Irad’s feet did a little skip. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Did you see the Garden?”

 

I shrugged. “Of course, from the outside. The guardian cherubim are not nice at all. Sure, there’s the flaming sword, but besides that all we can see is a bunch of trees and bushes.”

 

Irad raised his fists in the air. “I bet I could get past those cherubim and that flaming sword,” he said. “I’m really fast. Not as quick as a Nephilim, but I’m faster than most of the boys around here.”

 

“So, who are these Nephilim?” I asked.

 

“There’s one over there.” Irad pointed ahead of us. I followed his finger to the sight of a tall, muscular man who had stripped down to his loincloth. He had a wooden spear hefted over his head. The man took two steps forward and launched the spear into the air. It soared upward an amazing distance before impaling a duck that had been flying in V formation with its flock. Both duck and spear landed somewhere outside the wall. A young boy who had been spectating ran out to retrieve the spear.

 

“That was incredible,” I exclaimed. “Are all Nephilim that strong?”

 

“Stronger,” Irad told me. “Harkoles is only half Nephilim. His father, Azazel, was the first Nephilim to visit us. He married a woman from our village. Their children are all capable of amazing things, but being half human means they’ll never be as good as a full Nephilim.”

 

“But still,” I said, “even a half-Nephilim must make the average person seem subpar.”

 

Irad nodded. “That’s why Harkoles is going to lead our men in the war.”

 

“What’s a war?” I asked.

 

“Around a hundred years ago, our tribe split again and many people left to start their own village,” Irad began. “No one heard from them for decades, but not long ago some of our cows and sheep disappeared. Azazel and Harkoles tracked them down and found that they had been stolen by men from the other village. Azazel confronted them and demanded they give back the animals, but they refused and said they hadn’t stolen anything.”

 

“That’s horrible,” I said, “but I still don’t understand what a war is.”

 

“We’re going to attack them and take our cows and sheep back,” Irad told me. “Harkoles said he would lead the charge and kill anyone who gets in his way.”

 

I watched the boy run back with the spear, holding it over his head like a trophy. “I can’t imagine killing someone,” I said. “Has he ever done that before?”

 

Irad shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen. I watched him wrestle a few times. Some arms and legs were broken, but all those guys lived.” He started walking and waved for me to follow. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you.”

 

“Wait,” I started to say, but it was too late. Irad had already run up to the behemoth of a man and was pointing at me while he was talking. He waved again frantically for me to join them while Harkoles stared at me. With seemingly no other option, I meandered over trying to look confident and not at all nervous to meet someone so inhuman by any standard that I knew.

 

“Hi,” I said. Then Harkoles grabbed my arm and proceeded to twist it behind my back. He wrapped his other arm around my neck so that his massive bicep squeezed my throat. I immediately grabbed with my free hand and started trying to pull him away, to no avail. 

 

“Are you here to spy on us?” He exclaimed. “Did you think we would not discover you? You will not stop our attack!”

 

I would have been happy to explain to Harkoles that I was a friend and would never try to spy on him, but that was the day that I learned that I can’t talk if I can’t breathe. Luckily, Irad still had his voice.

 

“Whoa, Harkoles!” Irad exclaimed while holding his hands up. “He’s friendly.”

 

“How do you know?” Harkoles asked. “You said he just came into town today. Do you not find that convenient?”

 

Irad started to speak, then stopped himself. “Okay, that’s actually a good point,” he said.

 

My eyes bulged and my face was turning red. “Irad!” A hoarse whisper was all I could manage.

 

“Well, he can’t answer you if you won’t let him breathe.” Irad pointed out.

 

Harkoles thought for a moment, then he loosened his stranglehold on my neck. “What’s your purpose here, Spy?”

 

“Not a spy,” I managed to whisper.

 

“Prove it!”

 

Every man nearby was staring at us now. The faces I could see seemed excited, as if they were hoping the half-Nephilim man would pop my head off my body and throw it at the next flock of ducks to pass by.

 

“How?” 

 

“He was trying to climb the wall from the outside,” Irad mused.

 

“Not helping,” I croaked.

 

Harkoles seemed unsure how much pressure to put on my throat, so he would randomly squeeze and release, leaving me with varying degrees of oxygen.

 

Irad pointed one finger into the air. “What if he joined our army and helped us invade the other village? Would that prove he’s not a spy?”

 

Harkoles removed his arm from my neck and spun me around. A hopeful look gleamed from his eyes. “Would you do that?”

 

I coughed and heaved trying to take in air faster than my body would allow. “Is that really the only way to prove I’m not a spy?”

 

Harkoles grimaced.