The Descent of the Gods

Clash

SMACK!

An arrow missed the center of the practice target by a good margin. Naamah lowered the bow, disappointed. Inspired by the progress of the men training under the angels, she had taken up archery practice in a corner of the arena, and had practiced consistently for several days. But her aim had not improved much since her very first attempts. 

"I told you. It's a waste of time," Tubal chuckled, his long new iron sword in hand. Tubal had spent the last weeks recovering his strength from his wounds. He had not re-entered the arena with his new sword as of yet. Naamah knew he yearned to try out his new blade.

She ignored him and turned her attention to Enoch, and watched him defeat yet another training opponent with his staff. He was advancing rapidly through the angel's training exercises, and was quickly becoming one of their top contenders for mastery over the others. 

Naamah could see how Tubal watched Enoch take down opponent after opponent. Whatever truce the two men had made, Naamah feared it was only temporary. 

"Have you lost a match yet today?" She asked Enoch as he approached the side of the arena to quench his thirst, happy for an excuse to divert Tubal's attention from her unimpressive attempts with the bow. Enoch wipes the sweat from his brow, smiling. She had noticed his victories.

"The day is young yet. How is your practice coming along?" He nodded to her bow.

"Not as well as yours," She said with a small laugh to disguise her disappointment. 

"Perhaps you need a more suitable weapon, as I did," Enoch said.

"The bow is comfortable. I just don't know why I can't hit the target," She replied.

"Perhaps the problem is not the weapon, but rather the target itself," He said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"The target is fake. However, you may find that when the target is one that threatens all you love, you cannot miss."

She thought about that a moment.

"Is that why you're doing so well? Each opponent is a Cainite?" She said slyly. Enoch smiled, tapping his staff against the ground.

"My staff does have an affinity for seeing the backs of your countrymen on the ground, I'll give you that."

"If you love seeing us defeated, why do you train to fight with us?" Tubal spoke, his voice bitter. "I think I speak for all my countrymen - we don't need a Sethite in our ranks."

"Then you need not worry, I have no intention of fighting with you," Enoch replied, casting his eyes across the river to the forested mountain beyond it. "I will defend those I couldn't before."

"Training for a rematch, then?" Tubal interjected. "You really don't have a home left to defend."

"Tubal!" Naamah hissed at him. 

"You won't come against us again," Enoch spoke quietly, his voice strained.

"But we - the Cainites - have been chosen to take the angel's holy war through the earth. All will bow before us. Not much has changed, really."

"Tubal, stop!" Naamah tried. Tubal simply ignored her.

"Seth will bow readily enough. But the crippled old man - your father, if I remember correctly - we might have to help him bend those stiff knees."

When Enoch spoke, his voice was low, but his tone was final.

"They didn't come to save you. They came to preserve the faith that you were so close to extinguishing forever! Every child can understand what a Cainite pig cannot!

Tubal attacked, but Enoch was ready. Enoch's training had made him faster, and he was anticipating Tubal's initial wild swings. Even if Tubal was still recovering his full strength,  Enoch knew that Tubal was still the better fighter. He knew his victory would need to be swift - achieved in the first few strokes of combat - for if he waited too long, he would probably be left lying in pieces on the ground, and no one would return home to find and care for his father and grandfather when the time came.

Enoch drew Tubal's first blows in, letting Tubal's attack approach him so that Tubal could not resist the temptation of a last stroke to finish Enoch forever. But Enoch was waiting for that moment. As Tubal's sword entered the final swing, with so much rage placed behind it to prevent him recovering the blade from its descent, Enoch darted out from under its path, bringing up the blunt end of his staff from the side and smashing it against Tubal's swordarm with all his might. Tubal's sword went flying.

Then from that position, Enoch's staff shot straight and true forward, landing in Tubal's nose and knocking him down flat. Blinded by the blood spurting from his face, Tubal immediately tried to rise. 

Enoch's staff collapsed Tubal's writhing body into the dust, pinning him there. Unable to move, he could only listen as blood stained the ground around his head.

Enoch turned to the crowd that had gathered. Several warriors had their swords ready to attack Enoch, but Enoch made no further aggressive moves against them or Tubal. Rather, he spoke.

"I did not come here to make enemies. I was taken by force by you while my home burned, my grandfather bled, and my father watched as I was struck down and dragged off to some unknown fate. You brought me here, but the angels did not suffer your evil ways to continue. They have offered you a new path, something to fight for, something to die for. But I will have no part in your path."

"The message the angels have brought, the knowledge they have taught us, I will teach to my people too, and we will not suffer by your hands again. I promise you that."

Enoch lifted his staff from Tubal's chest, and Naamah rushed in, helping Tubal sit up.

Azrael and Semyaza had watched the entire confrontation and short-lived battle unfold. 

"Didn't I tell you we would find worthy ones?" Azrael said, beaming.

Semyaza didn't look so certain.