He mourned his wild friend as he strove into the wilds in search of life, muttering to himself:
“My only achievement is for the lion of the sands, who slithers down to the Underworld to relate my deeds for infernal inscription. This is unbearable, to know I shall descend to dust. I must find the means to surpass Death.
“I must find The Distant One, He Who Found the Life of Long Days. May I find him so that I might discover from him how to overcome Death?”
So Gilgamesh roamed, his heart heavy with sorrow, wandering, ever eastward, in search of The Distant One, whom the gods had honored with their everlasting secret.
He arrived, after much wandering, at The Pillars of Heaven, their roots sunk in the Underworld, their peaks cloud-mantled in Heaven, the world sentinels which keep watch over the ascent and descent of The Sun.
Yawning between the bases of these sacred mountains was the Night Cleft, into which The Sun sinks when it sets, moving through the earth, to emerge blazing with each dawn. At the entrance stood a pair of scorpion folk, their auras radiating across the mountains, inspiring such dread as to kill a common man of fright. Their appearance caused un-manning fear to gnaw at His heart, but he gathered his courage and strode toward them.
The scorpion man called to his wife, “This one must be a god—see how he conquers fear.”
The scorpion woman called back to him, “He is two-thirds divine and one-third mortal.”
The scorpion man addressed Him, “Who are you? How dare you violate this place with your presence? Why travel so far, over steep mountains and treacherous sea, through empty wastes and baking desert, which no mortal has crossed? I wish to know the object of your quest.”
I am Gilgamesh, King of great-girded Uruk, come to seek my forefather The Distant One, who became as one of the gods and was granted eternal life. I would ask him how he overcame Death.”
The scorpion man said, “No one can cross the Pillars of Heaven, nor has anyone descended into the Night Cleft. Within the cleft is darkness complete, light-eating and deep.”
The scorpion woman spoke, “This man of courage, hounded by sorrow, chilled to the bone, exhausted and burned dark by the desert Sun, do guide his mind to The Distant One, so that his body might follow.”
The scorpion man advised, “Down, ever down the dark way leads, into tarry blackness, deep darkness before and behind and to either side.
“You must run faster than the wind, through the Night Cleft. Twelve hours will you have to outpace The Sun. If you fail to emerge from the Night Cleft before The Sun sinks into its depths nothing may save you from its lethal fire.
Go, man, plunge into the deep dark among the mountain roots. May the Pillars of Heaven guide you whole to your goal, may they see you safely to the World’s Edge. The mouth of the Night Cleft yawns before you. Go now in peace, return also in peace.”
