The Descent of the Gods

Witness

Enoch and Naamah were greeted with a terrible sight as they rushed out from Cain's throne room. Herabite warriors were swarming up the citadel from all sides. The Cainite soldiers that had been stationed to protect it were too few in number. As bravely as they defended their posts, they were quickly overwhelmed by the absolute ferocity of their numerous attackers. Enoch unwound his sling from his forearm, and slipped the bronze sword into his belt, readying for the perilous descent through the fray. 

"Where is this hidden boat you spoke of to your slave?" Enoch asked Naamah. 

"She's not my slave!" Naamah said almost in a whisper, numbly watching the advancing army. 

Enoch was confused but repeated his question about the boat. Naamah only pointed toward the massive rocky outcropping on the north side of the island. 

"Let's go then!" He said, already rushing down the steps they had only recently ascended. He hoped the less obvious staircases they had used coming up would allow them to avoid as many assailants as possible.

"I can't," Naamah said, surveying the vista. Everywhere she looked, the city was under attack. Enoch turned, following her gaze out over the city. Far below them, in the sacrificial arena, a crowd of Cainite peasants was shielding Cain's image from an onslaught of Herabite warriors intent on tearing it down. Enoch stared in disbelief. 

"I can't leave them!" Naamah said desperately.

Enoch took her arm.  "They forsook you and your faith for Cain," He said urgently. "Today they reap the destruction of that choice. Follow me!" Just then, a Herabite rounded the corner below, spotting them on the parapet. He charged up the steps, laughing in his lust for blood.  Enoch fitted a stone into his sling smoothly, and with one powerful swing sent the rock deep into the Herabite's skull. The man fell end over end down the steps he had just climbed.

"And go where?" Naamah asked.

"To Eden! I will find what is left of my family and my village, and we shall leave this land behind us forever. We will follow the river to..."

"Where all waters flow." Naamah finished, and she felt a wave of emotion flow through her. She ached to go! A land where her faith would not make her a freak, but belonging to a cause - a family. She felt instinctively for her necklace, the one remnant of her grandmother's memories of Eden. Her body was trembling so hard, she did not notice when the stones around her began to shake. 

"Come on!" He shouted as he bounded down the steps. "Or it will be too late!"

She lifted one foot to follow him. Breath filled her lungs to call out for him to wait. But the ground suddenly shook violently, and she stopped. The sky was suddenly full of light, and she turned away from Enoch to see the source. 

Little did she know how much God had planned for her... and much would have been different if that light had never appeared in the sky.

But the descending angel had lost faith, and had taken it upon himself to make the world as he saw fit.

It had only been a few minutes since the Herabites had driven the Cainites back from the water's edge, but already they had penetrated deep into the city. Herab had ordered that the image of Cain was to be torn down first, as the visible reminder to the city of their powerful leader. A band of warriors had been dispatched in that direction immediately. The remaining Herabites were streaming toward the citadel, finding little opposition as the Cainites were now on the run.

The true mastermind behind the assault watched with glee from the supernatural realm. Moloch walked down the streets of Nod in the wake of his Herabite hoard, among the Herabite drummers. His hosts of demons encouraging them while other demons winged their way among any Cainites trying to mount a defense, screaming words of fear and terror into their minds and one by one breaking down any remaining will to resist.

The Herabite war drums drowning out all sounds in Nod but the screams of the dying were the sweetest sound Moloch had ever heard - since being cast from heaven, that is. His satisfaction was complete as he looked down every side street and into every corner of the city, and could not find one angel remaining to resist him.

As he approached the citadel, he watched the Herabite forces ascend like a swarm of ants, cutting down any defenders in their path. He spied one lone figure at the top of the citadel, standing outside Cain's throne room. His demonic eyes recognized the girl at once by the faint glow that shimmered around her, the first aura he had seen since entering Nod. He sneered but did nothing else. He could see that she was already orbited by several demons, who remembered her as well. In retaliation for the terrible fright she had given them in the arena the night before, they screeched and howled the most frightful curses into her ears. They had successfully immobilized her. She would pose no threat anymore.

Then Moloch noticed another brightly shrouded figure on the citadel. He was a few levels lower than the girl, taking a sword from the hand of a fallen Herabite solider. He was beset by two Herabites and fought them off, and then ran upward, the second sword in his hand. Moloch realized he was taking the girl a weapon to defend herself. 

"In vain, your window to flee is past, faithful ones," Moloch thought to himself. As he stared hatefully at the two auras on the citadel, it seemed that their light was growing brighter. He watched, confounded, as one by one, his warriors fighting on the walls halted their advance, looked behind them at something in the west, and then were overcome with an inexplicable terror and hid themselves.

The incessant drumming suddenly faded and was replaced by the wailing and lamentation of men about to die. The Herabites in the streets were fleeing to the closest alleyways. Moloch turned to see what had terrified them - a growing light from the west.

He saw, first in bewilderment, then recognition, then rage.

"IMPOSSIBLE!" 

Deep in Nod's dungeons, the prisoners were aware that something was happening outside. The sounds of battle had given way to a universal wail of absolute panic. The walls and floor of the cavern were trembling. While the other prisoners gave way to the panic themselves, tearing desperately at their chains to somehow flee the threat they still could not see, Caleb's men sat rigidly at attention. They all looked to their leader for his reaction. Their trust in him was complete.

He was the first to notice the faint shaft of light that pierced their darkness. As the earth trembled, the rocks had parted to let this one light through. His companions saw it too, and their eyes grew wide as they realized the light was moving! The beam made a circle of light on the cave floor and was traveling steadily toward them. 

The earth lurched around them, and suddenly the darkness was shattered by a hundred such beams. Prisoners around them threw their arms over their eyes at the sudden brightness, and their previous wails were redoubled. But Caleb stood, raising his arms to bathe in the beams that were moving faster every second from one side of the cavern to the other.

"Go down unto Nod," Caleb's voice boomed over the rumbling of the earth and the cries of men. "For there will come my messenger, through whom the world will know my voice again!"

Enoch stumbled as the stones beneath his feet bucked and fell violently. The sword in his hand clattered to the pavement. He turned, afraid that the two Herabite soldiers pursuing him might spring upon him, but was shocked to see them both instead cowering in an alcove of the fortress, pulling back from a growing light.

Naamah stood only a few paces above him, but she did not cower. She somehow stood as easily as could be, her eyes raised heavenward. And the light upon her face! It was almost blinding! But yet, she stared into its source. Enoch could only see wonder on her face.

Enoch turned to see what she saw. In that moment, the lonely Sethite shepherd saw the event that all generations of mankind would retell in legend and myth for millenia to come. He witnessed what would be remembered in a thousand variations as the descent of the gods.