Sylvester howled in anger and pain as he plunged his arms into the fire and knocked the scrolls out of the flames

Reb Shabsi knew that, sooner or later, he’d break from Sylvester’s constant pressuring. Daily, Sylvester reminded him of his past sins, causing him to doubt whether he had ever been a decent person. The traumatic incident he had been involved in as a young man, the one that changed his life forever, was constantly brought up.

One night, as a fire roared in a fireplace under the open, star-studded sky, Reb Shabsi looked across the flames at Sylvester.

“I’ll make them.”

“What?” Sylvester was so shocked, he momentarily forgot what Reb Shabsi was referring to.

“The golems. I’ll do it….”

The flames crackled over the firewood, spitting and hissing, as tendrils of smoke drifted into the night sky.

“You will not regret it, my friend.” Sylvester spoke slowly, cautiously. “These golems will restore peace to our world. No longer will wars wage on our planet, with armies constantly fighting one another, causing an untold number of deaths and injuries to millions. The golems will be controlled by one who can keep the peace, wielding the golems’ mighty power to put an end to land disputes, to the greed of kings who wage war for the sake of increasing their own power. The possibilities are endless… And it will be all thanks to you, Rabbi Shabsi.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not…” Shabsi shook his head. “But I am convinced now of everything you have been telling me. I am not a good man. What I did all those years before… The two boys in the wagon in the river… I can still recall the terror of that day. Only a bad person could have caused such things to happen. And if my greatest feat was creating my Pinchas, the golem, then at the very least, let me do the one thing I am good at….”

“Good. Tomorrow, we will begin.”

“No, we begin tonight.”