A dream had restored Abram's faith in God, and he straightened his back completely.
*So what if the Canaanites didn't welcome him?* he thought. *So what if their journey remained uncertain?* Having already seen the northern landscapes of Canaan, he was now curious about the southern regions he had yet to fully explore.
Shedding his earlier anxiety, he boldly claimed all of Canaan as the future homeland for himself and his descendants.
As if to measure the land God had gifted him with his own feet, he gradually led his family southward.
Canaan was neither vast nor small. After traversing sandstorms and deserts, they arrived at a peninsula bordering the sea. Abram didn't realize this was Canaan's border until he heard the name "Sinai Peninsula," and learned that the mountain beneath their feet was called Mount Sinai.
The mountain seemed unremarkable, especially after witnessing the majestic presence of Mount Hermon.
However, there was a quarry at the foot of Mount Sinai. A worker emerging from the quarry told Abram that this was a quarry belonging to the Pharaoh of Egypt.
"Is Egypt across this sea?" Abram asked. He had heard tales of Egypt's prosperity more than a decade ago, but he never imagined it was so close.
Ships came and went in a steady stream at the coastal port, the human traffic astonishing. He suddenly realized something was different—there were noticeably fewer Canaanites here; instead, Egyptians were the ones frequently coming and going, their dark skin tanned to a glossy, deep brown by the sun.
"Exactly! That's why our ore is unique," the worker said, puffing out his chest with pride. "The Pharaoh is a man of great foresight... He saw the value in our stones and, to speed up their transport to his lands by ship, he even opened new shipping routes."
The worker sang the Pharaoh's praises, claiming that before him, trade across the Red Sea had never been so prosperous. It was the Pharaoh who had made both regions richer than they had been before.
Abram listened with a mix of emotions. Gazing across the sea at Egypt, he couldn't help but sigh wistfully.
*The land God granted me ends here...*
*You may go south, but do not cross Mount Sinai,* he remembered Yahweh's words, which only deepened his awe of the divine messenger's foresight.
*That would be harmful to me,* he thought.
So, despite his burning curiosity about the lands across the sea, he suppressed his longing and continued no further south.
As Abram made these decisions, his thoughts and actions were all observed by the nearby God.
"He seems to obey you well," the angel said, his expression cautious. "But only if he goes to Egypt can he help you... right?"
That night, Haniya had already guessed Yahweh's true identity, experiencing a whirlwind of disbelief, joy, fear, and confusion.
He had once laughed at the complexity and richness of human emotions, but that single night he experienced every one of them without exception.
He wasn't sure how many foolish things he had done on this journey, or whether he had disappointed God...
For reasons he couldn't explain, he didn't pierce that veil of mystery, even though Haniya believed God must know everything already.
But as long as he didn't speak, everything could remain the same—or so he thought. He tried his best to act as he always had, even accepting that he might no longer be perfect in God's eyes. He didn't want this journey to end.
Yet his internal struggle between maintaining reverence and yearning to draw closer betrayed his caution.
Compared to the angel's former unrestrained candor, God's golden eyes narrowed slightly. A distance between Creator and creation was inevitable; one couldn't force it.
So He turned away and walked toward Abram. Compared to the wager or the angel's internal conflict, God found Abram more compelling.
At least the man had always been thinking of Him.
*Did I say something wrong?!* Left behind, the angel looked wronged, but with God ignoring him, he could only trail after Him.
Abram didn't...
Abram's deep fascination with Egypt stemmed from a harsh reality he was currently facing: their food supplies were dwindling.
The Canaanites in the north were unwilling to trade with him, so his family's sustenance still largely depended on what they had brought down from the Golan Heights. He desperately wanted to purchase grain from the Egyptians in the Sinai Peninsula.
"You could ask the governor here," Manly, a worker, suggested after Abram explained his predicament. "He's the overseer appointed by the Pharaoh to supervise the quarry's progress and manage all the Egyptians here."
"I'm a true Canaanite myself," Manly continued, "but seeing all sorts of people at the port daily has made me realize outsiders aren't so strange. I never knew they were so xenophobic on the other side of the desert." He studied Abram's upright features, taking a liking to him.
"Tell you what, I'm an Amorite from Hashson, living under the oak trees nearby. If you can't find a suitable place, come stay with me. We'll live together, and I guarantee no one will dare drive you away again."
Abram was deeply grateful for his kindness. They exchanged names, becoming friends. Following his new friend's directions, Abram located the Egyptian governor at the largest port office in the Sinai Peninsula.
An Egyptian man, dressed in a loose and breathable linen skirt, was directing his slaves to unload cargo from a merchant ship. Upon hearing Abram's request, he beckoned him closer and personally unwrapped an oil-cloth bundle, revealing it to be completely filled with grain.
"You've come at the perfect time. The fifth and sixth months are our harvest festival. We have chicken, duck, fish, meat, grain, and vegetables—we've stored a vast amount of food, all recently transported from Upper Egypt across the river."
"Do you eat it all yourselves?" Abram asked, astonished by the Egyptians' wealth. The governor chuckled.
"No, we keep enough for ourselves and sell the rest to the kingdoms on the north bank."
"The north bank?"
"Of course. This place is essentially a transshipment point." The governor surveyed the surroundings with a critical eye. The Sinai Peninsula, which Manly had praised so highly to the pharaoh, didn't seem to impress him much, his expression clearly displeased.
"Our ships stop here to resupply before heading to the Mediterranean via the Red Sea. The Nile would be a much more direct route—south to north—but now we're forced to take a longer route... All thanks to those stubborn fools in Lower Egypt!"
Abram didn't understand why the governor had suddenly become angry. He could only wait for the man to finish his outburst before asking about the price.
"Oh?" The governor finally remembered the Mesopotamian standing beside him. He set aside his administrative duties and focused on the transaction.
"I've heard you come from the distant Two Rivers," the governor asked, his voice brimming with curiosity. "I've also heard that the craftsmanship there is exquisite, rivaling our own Egyptian artistry. How do you plan to pay?"
"Bronzeware? Linen tunics? Hand-woven blankets? Or perhaps a long-necked water jug with painted patterns? How much do you have? We Egyptians value fair trade; we don't let others take advantage."
Abram listened in a daze as the governor rattled off the list, but he had none of these items.
"Would gold work?" he asked cautiously.
"Of course," the governor's expression turned cold. "Bring it here for me to examine. We'll determine a fair exchange rate."
With that, he turned back to the slaves, whose movements had slowed, and angrily struck one with his whip.
"Who allowed you to slow down? You won't eat today if you don't finish the inventory!"
Abram watched the scene, unsure how to interpret the governor's volatile temper.
He approached Sarai to ask for the gold to buy food, but she pulled two nearly identical crystals from her bag.
"I don't remember us bringing any gems when we left..."
Sarai was astonished, lifting the two diamonds to examine them up close. Though she wore all manner of jewelry daily, she had never seen gems of such quality in her life.
They were crystal-clear, radiating dazzling, multicolored brilliance under the sunlight.
God glanced at Haniya. The Angel's Eye in his heart flickered with anticipation, but he quickly realized that being noticed at this moment was not ideal.
"I just wanted to give them a small gift..." he murmured, lowering his head. These weren't magically conjured; they were the only things he could offer humanity.
"Excessive wealth isn't always a blessing for those who receive it," God said.
"Excessive wealth..." Haniya murmured, but these were just his tears. As he thought this, he heard that utterly cold voice speak beside his ear:
"Do not underestimate yourself. In my eyes, you are priceless."
*Is this... comfort?*
"Yahweh..."
God sighed softly. A thousand people wear a thousand faces, but he alone remains unchanged. Lucifer was like this, and Haniya was the same. Why did creation always insist on separating Yahweh from his true self?
Knowing that only by accepting this title could the angel's self-imprisoned heart find release and return to his former state—Haniya was too pure to navigate two identities with ease. Though both identities had been forcefully imposed by the angel himself, seeing his suffering ultimately softened God's heart.
"Hmm."
He had been feeling somewhat displeased these past few days due to Haniya's differential treatment—his closeness to 'Yahweh' and his distance from 'Reality'.
Realizing he was uncharacteristically arguing with his own avatar, God found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words, his heart filled with a complex mix of emotions.
*Perhaps Yahweh truly is more approachable than I was at the Great Sanctuary.*
"If this is what you wish," God said, stroking the angel's hair—a habit from his time at the Great Sanctuary—"I am Yahweh."
After experiencing the divine's long-lost and unique tenderness, Haniya's eyes reddened, and he nearly shed a cascade of diamonds. Fortunately, he restrained himself and quickly understood his value in the mortal world.
The gem's brilliance swiftly drew the attention of the crowd, mostly wealthy Egyptian merchants traveling on the ship. They swarmed around him.
"That stone is exquisite! I'll trade you a camel for it!" one man exclaimed, only to be shoved aside by another who elbowed his way forward.
"Get lost! Don't listen to him! I'll give you two Deben for that gem!"
The commotion drew the Egyptian Governor's attention. He strode over, cracking his leather whip.
"What's going on here? How dare you cause such a disturbance in a restricted port area!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the Egyptian Governor's eyes immediately fell on the two gems in Sarai's hand, and his eyes lit up.
Who in all of Egypt didn't know of King Sankhkara's love for stones? If he could present these flawless gems to the Pharaoh, the ruler might be so pleased that he'd appoint him Vizier. The Governor knew this was a pipe dream, but who would pass up such an opportunity to curry favor with the Pharaoh?
He ordered his guards to drive away the onlookers, then turned to Abram with a warm and friendly smile.
"Here's what we'll do," the Governor said. "Give me those two gems, and I'll pay you ten Deben of gold for each, for a total of twenty Deben. That's enough to buy twenty servants in Egypt."
"You'll need food too, so I'll throw in an equivalent amount of grain and vegetables. How does that sound? I guarantee you won't find a more generous trader anywhere..."
"I'm sorry, we don't trade those," Abram replied, snapping out of his daze. With a stern expression, he tucked the two gems away, insisting on using only the gold horn he'd obtained from Aram for the transaction.
"This kind of gold is only worth five *ket* of barley," the Egyptian said, showing no interest in the gold horn. Seeing Abram's stubbornness, he indifferently tossed him five small sacks of barley and dismissed him.