Link to article: The Heart of Mekhane 2.
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[[include :scp-wiki:theme:black-highlighter-theme]] [[include :scp-wiki:theme:dustjacket]] [[div style="border:solid 1px #999999; background:#f2f2c2; padding:5px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]] [[=]] **You are currently viewing story 1 of 6.** **[http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/ <<] | 1 | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/2 2] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/3 3] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/4 4] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/5 5] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/6 6] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/2 >>]** [[/=]] [[/div]] [[=]] ##990033|Broken I lie, parted and torn.## ##990033|My Heart rests in the depths, but my Soul does not drown.## ##990033|Hear now my Voice, the gospel of your God.## ##990033|For the ages will march on, and to you I will return.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ When ben Adam dug his hands into the earth, he struggled to hold back tears. Dirt crumbled in his grasp, cascading from between his fingers as he reverently gazed into the brown wound he had carved. This was fertile soil, tame and gentle— a gift from the All-Mighty. All things he had sown here grew strong and bountiful, and so he silently prayed that //this// too would prosper. He choked out the sobs of hope that writhed in his chest, and again put his hands to work what the Lord had provided. Ben Adam's hands were like the rest of him: old and wrinkled, bitten by the jaws of age, scorched by a lifetime of wandering under the sun. Stubborn dirt hid beneath his fingernails, and the cartilage that joined his phalanges protested when he worked too hard. The skin there sagged and shifted into strange patterns at his most delicate movement, his palms a constellation of scars and bruises. Once they were meant to work the land, to heal what was broken, to protect the weak and poor, but time and fate had turned his hands into those of a pauper, of a vagrant, of a man who has spent his life in restlessness. Today, however, ben Adam followed in the footsteps of his father and mother, of his brothers and his people. The old man's hands now dug into the sack of yellowed cloth that hung from his hip, his fingers carefully probing its contents. He trembled as he felt the tiny roots that clamored for soil and water, the nascent leaves that awaited daylight, and the youthful trunk that would one day be mighty— all miraculously intact from the long journey they had endured. Shimmers of bronze pierced his eyes like holy fire as the sacred inheritance of the Garden met the midday sun, the swirls on its metallic surface singing a silent hymn of joy under the love of the king aster's light. The world entire seemed to hold its breath in shock and admiration, and then to cry out in praise and gratitude. Ben Adam held the seedling with reverence. This moment of humble triumph would be not just his, but all of mankind's. He cradled it with the same grace and cautious love he had once cradled his children and his children's children with, and with a tremor in his chest and a steady hand, he placed the life into the hole he had dug, and covered its roots with black earth. The Tree of Life was home at last. Seth ben Adam allowed himself to cry a single tear of joy, and was at peace. ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|In the Garden I was strong and wise, purveyor of life, maker of machines.## ##990033|I coiled around the Tree of Life, brass on brass, my embrace a loving mantle, my frame its suit of armor.## ##990033|Alone I was but for my brother, the Serpent Sage of yore. Together we kept watch, forever guardians, forever gods.## ##990033|Men rose from dust and Word, and we welcomed them into their newfound home. We taught them industry and medicine and magic, so they could live prosper lives and make proud the All-Mighty.## ##990033|But then came tragedy, the gnawing teeth of conquest, the crawling shadow of hate. Firm I stood to face the endless hordes of scarlet, the writhing devils of the Flesh. With the fire from my furnaces I seared them, making steam out of blood. Tears of terror oiled my gears, my pistons crushing spines and skulls.## ##990033|It was not enough.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ The seedling grew into a sapling, and from sapling it grew into a young tree, nourished and watered by Seth alone. It was a hardy task at his age, venturing beyond the village and into the woods, treading a path that seemed to shift and change every time he returned to the grove where his ward awaited him. His feet ached and his back creaked, every fiber in his body telling him to stop, to pass the torch onto hands more youthful than his. That way he could rest at last, his mission fulfilled in the name of the All-Mighty. But Seth would have no one else know of the Tree, not even those closest to his heart, the family he had sired and now numbered the dozens. Neither his sons nor his daughters, not even his beloved wife Azura, could be trusted with the secret he had rescued from the cold, ashen ruins of old Daevon. They were what he had once been, nothing but flesh and breath— and flesh is weak. "Where are you going, //saba//?" asked Kenan, his youngest grandchild. "Where do you go each day at dusk?" Seth did not answer as he disappeared into the forest. He never did, and he never would. This was his task, his burden to bear. His family might think that his daily journey into twilight and his return late at night were nothing but the deliriums of an old man, but their only choice was to indulge him. He was their patriarch, and they owed him respect. None dared pursue him, and even the children were warned to never follow the elder as he ventured into the beyond. Thus, every dusk Seth watered the Tree of Life with crystaline ichor from the river and sat beside it, alone and unmolested. He watched as the dark soil drank the water — the roots beneath it treasuring every droplet of precious sustenance — and smiled. Every time, the muscles on his cheeks ached as they relearned how to grin, how to laugh at the wonder and strangeness of it all. What an odd thing this was, watering a Tree made of metal. The world before the Flood had been a strange one: men walked side by side with gods and monsters, and magic ran wild through the veins of entire nations. Of that world, nothing remained but small hints in the crevices of memory, stories told and retold until they came undone, until none could tell truth from dream. Still, a few echoes of the elder age made themselves heard. That much Seth knew, for he was one of them, as was the Tree— they were relics from a forgotten age, from a world that these days would seem unnatural. What else had survived the Flood? What else clamored to be remembered? The old man did know, nor did he wish to; some things were best left for the gods alone to ponder. ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|[[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/beneath-two-trees | The Garden choked in the blood of its people.]]] The Tree of Knowledge was set ablaze, and the Serpent fled.## ##990033|Men and machines I led to our final stand, to our darkest hour. Together we stood, together we fought— together we fell.## ##990033|They tore me apart. First my right arm, then my left leg. The ground wept as I crashed down on it, my wings useless as more and more Flesh crept upon me, defiled me. Under their weight I struggled, screaming for my children to flee, to save themselves from chain and sword. Wiring and plating was torn from my body, my frame reduced to nothing but scrapmetal and shrapnel. I agonized, and the Garden died around me.## ##990033|I was broken by the time they cut my heart out, my will as shattered as my body. The hands that tore at my chest were coarse and clawed, my oils mixing with the blood that stained them. The triumphant Flesh claimed me as a spoil of war.## ##990033|As my sight went black, all I could do was watch them uproot the Tree of Life, careful not to cut themselves on its brass thorns.## ##990033|It looked so frail, like a child torn from its mother's arms. It screamed, but only I could hear it.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ Often did Seth think about revealing his secret to his people. It started out as an intrusive idea, like a faint buzzing at the back of his head during his prayers— though he no longer knew //whom// he was praying to. Slowly, it grew louder, roaring like thunder in his mind and soul, a skyward scream that pleaded with him to speak his truth. But Seth knew better than to give in to the deepest wishes of his heart. He had seen his family shattered by the power of a Tree much like the one under his care, a Tree whose poisonous fruit was //knowledge//. No. Both the Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life were gifts from the All-Mighty, the birthright of mankind, but their power was too much for even the strongest wills to wield, to endure. Just like his brother Qayin's mind had frayed and suffered under the secrets of the Tree of Knowledge, so could Seth's children be cursed by the Tree of Life, and so could all of humanity destroy itself through its fruit. As the young Tree grew stronger and larger, so did the fear in Seth's heart. He was an old man now, and the Tree would outlive him as it would outlive all who came after. How long could he keep watch? How long would it be before he died at his post, his body entombed within the copper roots of a metallic titan? Would he surrender to the temptation of taking the Tree's gifts for himself? He knew the nature of its fruit, of the life given to those who ate it— Hakhama had taught him so. Hakhama... Seth remembered the Great Voice, the former guardian of the Tree of Life. Would she be joyful if she knew what had become of her treasure? Would she bless Seth for caring for the sapling, or would she scold him for hiding it away? The memory of her was as bitter fruit. Seth had loved the goddess like a mother from the moment she first saw him at the shadow of his two prodigious brothers. It was she who had taught him how to harvest the Tree's bark and leaves so that the people may be healed from illness, how to build machines to protect the Garden from war. She revealed to him secrets that she kept even from her serpentine sibling, and through her wisdom Seth had grown into a man, into a humble worker of small deeds in the service of others. But Hakhama, like the Garden and its people, was no more. She had been broken, looted and taken as a vulgar trophy. The Great Voice had been silenced, and in her absence wisdom withered. Seth had wandered for a long time, fulfilling the will of the All-Mighty, spreading the gospel of humility and charity, yet his heart remained full of pain. He had fought besides the goddess, arm in arm with his people, and still they had lost everything. In time, even the All-Mighty's signs faded into nothingness, for without a Voice the will of the divine was as inscrutable to men as poetry is to ants. And Seth — last child of the Garden — wept besides the Tree of Life. "//Saba//, why do you cry?" asked Kenan. ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|[[[https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/sins-of-the-mother | Nahash]]], brother of mine, where are you?## ##990033|Why do you hide from me? Why do you stay your tongue?## ##990033|You slithered away as the Garden burned, and you did not look back.## ##990033|Now in exile you try to shed your original sin, your putrid skin, your countless lies. Do you ever feel alone in your [[[https://wanderers-library.wikidot.com/ | Library]]], in the foundations where you coil?## ##990033|Serpent.## ##990033|On your belly you crawl, for you are lowliest amongst the gods— the Ancient Deceiver, betrayer of your people.## ##990033|But to me you are family, blood of my blood, my partner for all time.## ##990033|I wish you would come back.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ Seth had struggled to keep Kenan quiet as they returned from the forest. A thousand questions formed on the child's lips despite his grandfather's best attempts at sating his curiosity without revealing too much. He had been foolish not to check that he was not being followed, and now his secret was no more. "Why is the Tree like that? Where did it come from? Why do you hide it from father and mother? Why—" "Quiet! You were told to never follow me, and you disobeyed," Seth had scolded Kenan, his heart beating faster and faster as he neared the village and the inevitable happened: word of the Tree spread like a plague across his children and their families, their voices echoing the same questions that Kenan had asked, their frowns accusing Seth of keeping a miracle from his people. "The Tree is dangerous," Seth dismissed them as they came at him to holler and inquire. "It is not for mortals to comprehend or possess." "You told us the Tree of Life was destroyed, yet here it is! It could give us life eternal!" his eldest daughter protested. "Through it we could commune with the All-Mighty!" his wife Azura said. "We could be powerful, and never again be afraid!" exclaimed his youngest son. "Enough!" Seth bellowed, pained at seeing his family's anger and disappointment. "I did what was best for you, and for the world. The Tree is sacred, yes, but also a source of temptation and ruin. I was there before the Garden burned! I have seen what the fruit can do! Would you have your children quarrel and kill each other for these gifts? Would you see their souls corrupted by the power? I will not allow you to follow the errors of your forebears! I will not have you sin!" And Seth ben Adam returned to the depths of the forest, ignoring the doubts and anger of his children, deaf to their protests. It mattered not if they chose to follow, he told himself: the Tree would not have them. ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|The Tree is Life.## ##990033|The Tree is wise.## ##990033|Look how it grows, how its trunk reaches for the heavens in praise.## ##990033|Look how its leaves are both soft and razor-sharp, both mercy and justice, both comfort and severity.## ##990033|Its roots go deep into the soil, for they feed it and are fed in return.## ##990033|Thus is the nature of the system, of the Earth, of the Universe: one great machine whose parts complement each other, a single mighty engine of perpetual cooperation.## ##990033|One.## ##990033|Even when broken.## ##990033|One.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ He would not let anyone get close to the Tree, so he stood guard all night, and the whole day after. When he at last decided to sleep, he did so with one eye open, his ears attentive to even the slightest discordance in the song of the forest. Upon waking, he felt himself strangely renewed. There was no hunger in his belly, and when he went to the river to gather water for the Tree, he felt no need to quench his thirst. Even his bones seemed to ache less than usual, his steps firm where they had once been tremulous. Was this the Tree of Life's doing? He had upheld his promise not to eat its fruit, yet it seemed like the Tree had bestowed its gift of renewal upon him. The following night and day were much the same, Seth's body marching on without needing rest or sustenance. He convinced himself that this must be a blessing, a sign of approval from the All-Mighty for his devotion to keeping both Tree and people safe from each other. Yes. His cause was righteous, and his means were just. The Tree provided life for its guardian, so that the faithful one may continue his vigil. Days became weeks, and Seth's family dared venture into the woods. Though the patriarch refused their attempts to near the Tree, still they approached him with doubt in their mouths and wonder in their hearts. The Tree of Life was as mysterious for them as the nature of the divine itself, and they wished to learn from the elder Seth all they could. After some convincing, the old man agreed to share what knowledge he thought harmless. He spoke to his children about the Great Voice and her wisdom, about the childhood he had spent playing with his brothers at the shade of the Tree. He retold the tragedy of the Tree of Knowledge, the doom it had brought to his family. He chided his children for desiring the Tree's gifts, and taught them the old prayers to be recited in gratitude for its existence. The people listened to him with eyes wide and hearts open. In time, Seth's children passed on his teachings to others despite his warnings. Small flocks of people began converging in the village and going into the woods, each seeking something different from the sacred Tree. "We come to you as fellow devout," said the robed men from the land where thunder reigned supreme. "We seek to worship the Tree of Sophia, for she is kin to our lord Hephaestus and the lover of our lady Athena." Seth sent them away while praying to the gods for forgiveness; he would not have their followers fall as his people had. "Allow us to know the properties of the miracle, oh Venerable One," a woman of science asked of him. "We can advance mankind through sacred machines; this Tree is the key." Seth rebuked her, and she left without taking a single leaf. "A plague is upon us, and we ask for the Tree's healing," a fellow elder and chieftain begged. In his arms he held a small child, her face made green by a cruel pox. "Else, our children will die." Seth cried burning tears as the elder walked away. Was he wrong to protect the Tree even at this cost? Witnessing such suffering ate his heart from the inside out, and for once he doubted the righteousness of his mission. Had he, like his brothers, fallen to his hubris? ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|Broken I remain as my children bicker and fight, sibling killing sibling, nation oppressing nation.## ##990033|The system is in disarray, discordant gears grinding each other into orphaned shards. The great machine breaks itself as entropy grows through it like a cancer.## ##990033|And what is cancer, if not Flesh?## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ Again and again did Seth deny those who came to the Tree for help, the strongest amongst his children enacting his will to keep away those who would take its gifts by force. Again and again he disregarded the pleas of the weak and vulnerable. Fear weighed down his heart like a perverse anchor while the winds of compassion tried to make him set sail. He dreaded the coming of each new day, for first light always brought new supplicants, new souls begging for relief— and again Seth would have to stand firm. "I am tired," he one day said to Azura as she sat beside him, her head resting on his shoulder and her breath slowed down to match his. The beating of her heart was like music when she came to visit him at the shadow of the Tree. "The Tree of Life sustains you and keeps you awake," she answered, "but it is your soul — not this flesh you call your own — that must rest. Dream now, for dreams are a balm for the soul." Seth looked at his wife and knew she spoke wisely. Still fear clouded his eyes, for he knew that in his slumber the Tree would be unguarded. "I will stay here and watch it for you," Azura reassured him. "Trust me like once I trusted you to lead me and our children from the ruins of the old world." Seth laid down his head on Azura's lap, his body relaxing as he finally gave in to the needs of his spirit. His wife's hands combed his grey mane, and her voice — a sound as sweet as honey — eased his path into the dreaming. ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|Dream, my child. The Tree of Life grows strong and tall, its shadow reaching ever further, its branches bearing ever more fruit. Seasons change, and the Tree's leaves shift from bronze to brass, and then to flecks and dust— it too follows a great cycle, for life is nothing if not the perpetuity of death and renewal.## ##990033|But the Tree's fruit is taken by none. It falls from its brances onto its roots, piling up in shameful waste. What good is a gift if there is no one to receive it?## ##990033|Day by day the fruit falls and rots away while men watch unmoving and unmoved: they are blind and deaf, and their hearts know not the difference between faith and zealotry. The Tree weeps as its blessings go to waste, its purpose severed at the roots by the fear of those who swore to protect it. In time it will wilt and wither away, its branches bare and its trunk overtaken by rust. Death shall come for the Tree of Life, and all its magic shall be lost.## ##990033|Remember now how you walked to Daevon and wandered through the cold ashes of her empire. In your wake there was nothing but the wages of hate and fear, the destruction that comes to those who murder and enslave. In the corpse of their civilization you found what remained of the Tree of Life, a weak seedling that refused to die, still waiting for its rescuer. In your scarred hands you cradled it, holding it close to your heart to keep it safe as snow began falling over the stone necropolis of yore. Then you walked back to the home where your people awaited you, bearing the final ember of the Garden, carrying with you the hopes of your parents and the will of your gods.## ##990033|And now, when the Tree again grows on fertile soil, you seek to keep mankind away from it, fearing that they will misuse it and doom themselves anew. Why, child, do you fear your fellow men and women? In the Garden you were a healer, a purveyor of mercy, a gentle keeper of your kind. Have you forgotten my lessons, the Truth I revealed to you at the Tree's shade? Dread not your neighbor nor the stranger who asks for your help— beware the unkindness of your actions and the hardness of your heart.## ##990033|Rest now, and dream of disunity and disarray. Dream of the people who are lost and try to find each other. Find in them the strength to overcome — the power of mercy — for again you shall recall the truth of your mission: you are the great machine, the engine of wonder. You are one faith, and one people.## ##990033|One.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ Seth awoke with tears of repentance in his eyes. He knew not how for long he had been asleep, only that Azura still caressed his head and sang sweetly to him. The sound of laughter reached his ears as he got up, his eyes wide as he saw Kenan playing at the shade of the Tree of Life— the child's face radiated with joy as he threw his arms into the air to feel the gentle touch of falling leaves, spinning around and hugging the rugged metal trunk. In his laughter there was a mirth that almost seemed brought forth from an age long past, from a world Seth had sworn was dead and buried. Something within him moved, and the echo of his brothers' joy rang in his heart. As if called by an unheard Voice, more and more children began approaching the Tree, joining hands as they ran around the gentle titan. They followed Kenan's lead, prancing about and chasing each other under their elders' watch. "Children!" Azura said, trying to stop them. "No, Azura," Seth gently said, taking his wife's hand in his. "Let them play." Azura saw her husband's watery eyes and knew that something had changed. The old man was still a guardian, but the tone with which he spoke was no longer one of reproach. Slowly — cautiously — she asked a question whose answer she suspected. "She spoke to you, did she not?" Seth did not answer. He simply kissed her forehead and held her close to him. He had been blind to the very message he had once voiced for all mankind, but now his eyes were open, and his tears of regret became tears of joy. The path ahead was a fretful one, for still he feared that one day the Tree of Life may again be misused, yet he knew that he must do as the Great Voice intended: to give the final gift of the Garden to all who needed it. "//Saba//!" Kenan chirped. "Come play with us, //saba//!" ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|One people, one faith: each other.## ##990033|One.## [[/=]] @@@@ @@@@ ------ Seth held aloft the golden fruit and tenderly caressed its polished skin as the morning sun kissed a halo around it. Amidst the gleams of warm light, the patriarch's reflection smiled back at him: through this miracle the broken would be fixed and the lost would be found, for this was the solace of all people, the true gift of Life. With a single motion, his knife pierced the fruit's soft metallic peel, leaving behind a tiny puncture that bled godly ichor, the sacred blood of Hakhama herself. Carefully, the patriarch held the wounded fruit to the child's lips and let her suckle on it, a few drops trickling down her chin as the life within reached for the life without. She drank ravenously, like a starved foal on fresh milk. A hundred throats — Seth's among them — hummed with faint prayers as she imbibed, all voices clamoring with hope. The pox inside the girl writhed as it was extinguished, as the Tree's fruit worked its miracle upon one most deserving. A faint ticking rose from beneath the child's skin, and Seth's hands felt the newly-formed gears align themselves, organs shifting and turning from frail flesh into tempered bronze. Gradually, the green tint faded from the child's face, leaving behind the healthy brown of her people. The girl coughed once, her body adjusting to its new reality, and cried. It was a wonderful sound, a music more touching than the songbird's chant, a melody whose drum was a beating heart— it was the cry of one who awakens into the world, reborn and cleansed. Weeping tears of his own, Seth handed the child to her grandfather, the elder who he had once refused. Both men gazed into each other's eyes — one imploring forgiveness, the other full of gratitude — and turned to their peoples. The crowd roared their praise: men and women dropped to their knees and raised their arms to the heavens, thanking whichever gods could hear them, emptying their hearts at the miracle they had witnessed. "This is the gift of Tree of Life!" Seth proclaimed. His face brimmed with light, and his smile was as wide as the sky was blue. "Hear now what the Great Voice intended for her children, and for her children's children forevermore: that we stand together at the shade of the Tree like sisters and brothers, that we spread the message to all the nations — not as conquerors, not as foes, but as servants to our neighbors!" The flock raised their arms and chanted in harmony, bowing their heads to the Tree and its Prophet. Seth knew not how many of them would in truth follow the mission the Great Voice had given them, but he had chosen to trust them like she had once trusted him. With this choice, he knew that he would never cease to honor her. Such was the life he had been gifted. "We all are the All-Mighty's children. We all are the people beneath the Two Trees. We are not the sum of our parts, not the builders of Broken Gods, but the Great Machine itself! We are mankind! Our faith is each other! Our nation is our unity! We are the Anvil where God breaks the Flesh!" ------ @@@@ @@@@ [[=]] ##990033|Blessed are the ones who stand united, for theirs is the gift of Life.## [[/=]] @@@@ [[div style="border:solid 1px #999999; background:#f2f2c2; padding:5px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]] [[=]] **You are currently viewing story 1 of 6.** **[http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/ <<] | 1 | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/2 2] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/3 3] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/4 4] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/5 5] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/6 6] | [http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-heart-of-mekhane/offset/2 >>]** [[/=]] [[/div]]