A War of Sin

Freewill

As Lilith stood in the garden, her gaze lingered on the two winged figures disappearing into the distance. A sense of curiosity stirred within her, mingled with a hint of fascination at the sight. She watched them until they vanished from view, leaving behind only the memory of their fleeting presence.

Turning her attention to the ground, Lilith noticed the apple that Lucifer had left behind. It lay nestled amidst the verdant foliage, a vibrant splash of red against the lush greenery of the garden. With a small smile playing upon her lips, she reached down and plucked the apple from its resting place.

In her hand, the apple gleamed with an otherworldly beauty, its surface smooth and flawless. It seemed to embody the perfection of the garden itself, a testament to the harmony and abundance that surrounded her.

Everything was perfect. Verdant foliage cascaded in lush abundance, each leaf a masterpiece of delicate intricacy. Streams meandered with gentle serenity. Within this sanctuary of untarnished beauty, every moment shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance, inviting reverence and awe in the presence of divine perfection. The tranquil streams trickled with a soporific rhythm, their waters devoid of any semblance of excitement. Eden was, everything, Eden was boring.

She was to be the mother of humanity, and Adam, well, he was Adam. She didn't really understand him. They were very different. But he was the only person he knew and the only one he could talk to.

"Lilith?" said the voice of man. Said the voice of <em>the</em> man, actually.

"Oh Adam, Hi."

"What are you doing here? I told you to go look for fruits but you never came back."

He told her, like he always do. Like she was at his service or something. Since the day of their creation with each step he took through the verdant garden, his gaze held a glint of authority, his posture exuding a quiet confidence. In his interactions with Lilith, he sometimes spoke with an air of paternalism, his words laced with the assumption of his inherent wisdom and authority.

"Oh? Yes, that's because you can get them yourself."  She gave him a kind smile.

Lilith was a woman of ethereal beauty and unwavering spirit. She stood defiantly in the face of Adam's expectation of submission. Born of the same earth as him, she refused to bow to his perceived superiority, her fiery gaze mirroring the strength of her resolve anytime the man talked to her.

"I beg your Pardon?" Adam said. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, there was an undeniable annoyance in his voice.

"Oh please, Adam, no need to beg."  She said as her gaze, though gentle, carried a subtle hint of superiority—a quiet acknowledgment of her own autonomy and the limitations of Adam's authority.

"What -"

"There, here's an apple tree. Help yourself."

With each interaction, she exuded a sense of self-assurance that left Adam feeling small in comparison. It was not arrogance that emanated from her, but rather a quiet assurance born from an unwavering belief in her own worth and dignity.

Little did she know her behavior posed a challenge for the celestial harmony of heaven, as her refusal to submit to Adam's authority disrupted the divine order established by the Creator. In a realm where obedience and hierarchy were paramount, Lilith's independent spirit clashed with the prescribed roles assigned to her and Adam.

Her boundless curiosity also posed a challenge to the celestial order, as it often led her to questions. And questions lead to knowledge. Lilith's curiosity was starting to become a double-edged sword—a beacon of enlightenment that illuminated her path to wisdom and Heaven was watching.