The Descent of the Gods

Arena

Morning came, and soon the city was soon roused as the news spread from house to house - Cain had passed away in the night - peacefully breathing his last as he slept in his bed, the story went. He had been their leader for so many years, even as he grew more and more ancient, few really believed there would come a day when he would cease to live.

That day had come, and the city mourned him loudly. 

But however clamorous their plaintive cries for their dead tyrant, people were quickly seen flocking back to the arena in droves. 

The morning news not only told of Cain's passing, but also that Azrael had returned to the city and had announced that the blasphemer would face an unusual judgement. 

"No one who witnesses it will ever have cause to doubt the authority of the Watchers again," his words were passed from house to house. So naturally, all of Nod emptied to see what Azrael had in store for the young man that they all knew had once been a confidant of his. And as they jostled through the crowded alleyways and winding streets towards the arena, everyone assured his neighbor that they had never trusted the look of that Sethite anyway. 

As the appointed time came, the streets fell silent for the first time in Nod's history. Everyone had assembled to see the Watchers make an example of the Sethite. 

Even the slaves on the mountain had a reprieve from cutting stone - half of their guards had crept away to watch the show. The remaining guards, their captains gone, paid no attention to the slaves and their work. So they all relaxed, and enjoyed the sunshine. The shape being cut out of the mountain was almost complete. Several outcroppings had been shaved down, and crevices filled. It seemed to the slaves and their guards that Semyaza was as intent upon forming the mountain into his monument as he was about using the cut stone to build up Nod's walls.  

As the slaves rested upon the mountain, they could never have guessed that the monument they were completing was the first of its kind. And that thousands upon thousands of replicas of it would be built in the millenniums to come - all pointing back to the original one formed in the city of Nod before the great flood.

They basked in the brisk morning air, oblivious to the significance of their handiwork.

Enoch was solemn. He had not slept during the night. Caleb's words rang in his ears - "Show them how the righteous die." Hadn't Cainites seen enough innocents and good men die at their hands? 

What could Enoch show them but rage? They had killed his mother, crippled his father for life, pillaged his village again and again. They had seduced angels, and instead of comprehending the gravity of Semyaza's deceit, they had instead embraced the angels in their sin without question. 

And now they were gathered - all of them - to entertain themselves with his death. 

He was given a sword, lance, and a shield.

"What are these for? Will I battle my executioner?" He asked. The guards didn't answer. They simply marched him to the edge of the arena. 

Semyaza was there, waiting for him.

"I take no joy in your death, young man. You are brave. Unfortunately for you, your judgement is needed for the work I have to do here."

"Your work? I would like to know more about what you have planned."

Semyaza smiled. 

"Maybe another time. Make it interesting! Everyone's come for the show!"

The guards led Enoch out into the sand of the arena. The crowd jeered the blasphemer. Cain's death had reawakened their tribal pride. Sethites were outsiders, not to be trusted. The Watchers were making their people greater than ever before. Only one consequence could satisfy today's gathering - Enoch must die.