"On this soil lie our fathers. Here the Most High divided the nations and gave Shem his inheritance. We shall not abandon this ground. We shall seek peace with the son of Cush. This is our decision."
Salah listened with attentive respect; yet when the speech ended, he rose in silent reflection before answering:
"This solution to which you have come is not wise. Is it truly possible for the sons of Shem to seek alliance with the impious and tyrannical seed of Ham? Have you forgotten the abominable deeds of this sacrilegious emperor? Have you not heard how Nimrod, in his wrath, pursues the sacred lineage of Shem, nor the brutality with which he exterminates the worshippers of El?"
His voice deepened, as though the very air had grown heavier.
"Why, then, do you seek covenant with death? Do you believe that the wicked will spare anyone? He seeks not gold nor cattle, but blood. The nobles among us he will behead in the public square. Our women and daughters will be violated before our eyes. The boys and girls will be taken as spoil to the altars of Semiramis. Our houses shall be consumed by fire, and our herds shall perish with us."
He paused briefly, then continued with even darker gravity:
"He will profane our sacred places, and not even the altars of God will be spared. With his impiety he will defile the land, and afterward render it barren with salt, so that it shall never bloom again. And if any among us are fortunate, they will be taken as slaves, to build through whip and anguish an empire of injustice, until we are consumed."
The silence that followed was profound, almost tangible.
The elders exchanged glances but found no voice. What had been spoken seemed to suspend all possibility of immediate reply.
At last, the one who had spoken before asked:
"Brother… what then do you believe must be done?"
All eyes turned to Salah. And he answered without hesitation:
"After weighing all possibilities, I see no other path than this: either we depart from Akkad immediately, or we remain and resist the advance of Nimrod."
One of the elders rose.
"To resist would be to perish. Yet to abandon this land also seems impossible to us. Here lie our fathers. If we must die upon this soil, so be it."
Another added, moved by both fear and hope:
"It is not lawful for us to abandon Akkad. Yet if we resist the Rephaim alone, we shall be destroyed. It would be better to send messengers to Assur, Calneh, Shinar, and Erech. Perhaps a confederation may grant us survival."
A third objected:
"But time is not in our favor. This decision may already have come too late."
Another, more resigned, concluded:
"Let us remain, then. And may God preserve among us the flame of Shem."
Salah spoke again, more softly:
"If only some might depart, there would perhaps be hope. But now we know also this: Nimrod would pursue them like a deer upon the plain…"
At that moment, a messenger entered the assembly in haste:
"Canaan, father of the Phoenicians, stands at the gate and requests audience before this council."
The silence that followed was not surprise, but quiet refusal. Yet Salah raised his hand:
"This man has served faithfully the house of Shem. By the authority granted to me, I permit his entry."
The messenger withdrew and soon returned, accompanied by an elder whose beard was white as snow and whose face bore the mark of the sun.
Canaan bowed before Salah and spoke:
"For many years I served faithfully the house of Shem. I was freed by him in honor and justice. Because of my loyalty to the God of Shem, I was persecuted by Nimrod, captured in Egypt, and subjected to great torments. I fled with the aid of righteous men. Now I seek refuge in Akkad."
Salah replied with calmness:
"We know your righteousness. We would gladly receive you. Yet this is not a time of shelter, but of war. The armies of Nimrod already draw near. Go in peace, and may the Most High grant you a safe path."
Canaan bowed in silence and departed.
Salah then rose with determination:
"Summon the strong men. Sound the trumpet throughout the city. Akkad… to arms!"
Before the tent of Shem stood the altar of the Most High God.
Salah emerged from the tabernacle holding a burning torch and set fire to the sacrificial wood. The flames rose as though recognizing an ancient vow.
Then he fell face to the ground and wept—not as a man, but as one beholding the end of an age.
When he finally recovered, he perceived a presence.
Heber approached.
"You called for me, my father?"
Salah rose and embraced him tightly. For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he only sighed:
"Oh… Heber, my son…"
He took him by the hand and led him into the tent.
Inside, the air seemed older.
"This tent belonged to Shem, our father. Here he worshipped the Lord after descending from the mountain where rested the ark of salvation."
Heber stood in reverent silence.
Above them, a stone capital supported a copper basin filled with living coals.
Salah pointed:
"You have heard how Cain and Abel offered their sacrifices to the Lord. Abel offered the best of the flock, and the fire of heaven consumed his offering. Cain, however, was not accepted."
His voice grew more solemn, almost sacred:
"From this fire came that which our father Adam preserved. And from these coals, ever since, the holy sacrifices are kindled. Noah carried them in the ark during the flood, and with them he raised an altar in the new world."
He paused.
"The Lord does not accept strange fire. Therefore, we use only these sanctified coals."
Salah drew a deep breath.
"I am the successor of Shem. And you, Heber, shall be mine."
Then he bent and opened the ground beneath his feet. Under the soil, a marble slab was revealed.
"Here lies Adam, our father."
Heber remained motionless.
Salah removed a sheepskin from his satchel.
"Remove your garment."
The boy obeyed.
The skin was placed upon his chest.
"Never abandon it. It is an ancient sign, entrusted from the beginning."
Then he drew out two small, pale stones.
"These are Urim and Thummim."
He raised them before his son.
"After the Fall, Adam no longer heard the direct voice of God. But the Lord, in His mercy, granted these signs for guidance. Through them, the divine still speaks to those who fear Him."
Salah carefully returned the stones to their place.