The Descent of the Gods

Messenger

Enoch could feel absolute power coursing through him. His body was the conduit through which God would speak today to his wayward sons. 

Enoch would make sure they couldn't mistake the message for anything else.

He leaped down from the altar into the sand and advanced upon the dragon. It saw him coming, and desperately tried to escape. Seizing a hold on the bottom row of seating that rimmed the arena, it tried to haul its great bulk out of Enoch's path. People scattered in terror as blocks of stone gave way, collapsing down into the arena. The dragon tumbled backwards into the sand.

It cowered at his feet, trembling.

"Evil spirit, I speak the words of God,"  Enoch spoke and each syllable hit the dragon's body with a shock. It wailed and thrashed, creating a massive cloud of dust. 

"By His power I command you to depart this body! Be separated from its flesh, and return to him never more. Ever flee until the day of judgment upon angels and men!"

A final raise of Enoch's hand and the dragon's screams evaporated into one withering shriek. 

The dust settled, and the dragon lay still. Moloch had been forcibly hurled back to an oblivion he would likely never find his way out of.

Enoch's trembling form relaxed. The Spirit left him. Just the man remained. 

The crowd thundered. They had just witnessed a power much greater than that of the angels. And it had been wielded by a man. 

"My God, why have you forsaken me?" Azrael's soul cried out. The implications what what he had just seen were too much for him to bear. The watchers present were pale.

"Fear of your own shame exceeded your fear of God," Enoch's voice responded. Azrael looked at him. Enoch's mouth was not moving. But his eyes spoke as his thoughts resounded in Azrael's mind.

"It's time to choose Azrael. There can still be redemption for you." 

"And my brothers?"

"Their sins are great. They will answer for them." Enoch replied.

Azrael collapsed back in his seat. He was negotiating with a mortal man for himself, for his brethren? To what additional shame would he have to submit them all to in order to appease heaven's wrath?

Azrael's heart grew hard as the new reality sank in. 

"The Power has left him," Azrael said to Lamech. "He is defenseless. Take him!"

Lamech signaled desperately to the guards. They poured into the arena, surrounding Enoch with a array of spears. He ignored them as they closed in.

A roar halted their advance as the dragon rose and stood - stood shielding Enoch from them. The soldiers fled. As they did, Enoch addressed the people.

"Today, the age of silence between heaven and earth is broken! God speaks to mankind again, not by the word of angels, but from a man as unworthy as yourselves. Hear now the Word of the Lord!"

"For the Holy Great One will come forth from His dwelling, and the eternal God will tread upon the earth, and appear in the strength of His might from the heaven of heavens. And all shall be smitten with fear."

"And the watchers shall quake, and great fear and trembling shall seize them unto the ends of the earth."

"But with the righteous He will make peace. So choose this day who you will serve - Cain and the false gods who have succeeded him, or the Lord?"

"As for me, I am leaving Nod this day."

Enoch turned to the dragon, who had retained its defensive stance for his speech.

"Mighty Leviathan, you are free of the power that bound you. Go in peace!"

As if loosed from a leash, the dragon leaped upon the fallen stones that it had previously torn down, and clambered out of the arena. People scattered. Enoch followed in its wake.

A breathless solider ran up to Lamech and Azrael.

"The slaves are escaping! There are warriors with them!" The solider said.

"Herabites? Impossible!" Lamech replied. 

"Not Herabites my lord. I know not from where they come. They are skilled, and wear armor I've never seen before. They are leading the slaves to the river, I believe they intend to cross!"

"Guards! To the river!" Lamech shouted, and the guards streamed out of the arena.

"Edenites," Semyaza said, as if cursing.

Azrael stood, his face blank. 

Semyaza pulled forth the sword that Tubal had forged for Azrael weeks earlier. It was easily twice the length of Tubal's own blade - a magnificent weapon. A weapon for a god.

"Claim what is yours Azrael!" Semyaza said, offering him the sword. "Destroy that which stands against us!"

Azrael looked at him, his face overcome with regret.

"This is not what I hoped for us."

"I know," Semyaza replied. "But now we defend what we have gained, or lose all."

Azrael took the sword. He stared at his own reflection in the pounded metal. 

It was too much for Naamah. She seized his cloak.

"Don't do this!" She begged. He did not look down at her, rather continued staring at the sword.

"If the Almighty thinks he can exalt a man above his own sons," Azrael replied, his voice hard. "And that we will endure it, He's very wrong."

Azrael sprang away, jetting through the rapidly emptying arena faster than any mortal could have even dreamed of running. He cut across the city maze, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. He had only one target.

Semyaza watched him go.

"He has joined us, master," He whispered  with satisfaction.

Naamah was overcome. The angel that had come to save her had fallen. A new messenger had been chosen. But his life was now in grave danger.

She shoved through the crowds towards the exit, and ran towards the river.