The Descent of the Gods

Bridge

Azrael would slay Enoch, Naamah knew it.

What she did next, she also knew she had to. She had to stop Azrael.

At her feet lay a bow and one arrow. She didn't stop to consider its oddness or convenience. It was there, and she picked it up, fitting the arrow into the twine and pulling it back to her ear.

Her brain screamed at her that it was hopeless. Her limited practice with a bow had not yielded any results of significance.

But Azrael, the one who had descended to save her, was about to commit the gravest crime imaginable. She knew nothing would be able to save him then. 

Yes, he had fallen from grace. But she couldn't bear for him to be branded forever a murderer. She knew what it had turned Cain into. Cain's fate would not be Azrael's - if she could help it.

Now she aimed at his muscular body, as best as she could, to save him in the only way she knew how.

But the strength with which she pulled back the arrow did not only originate from her fear for the angel's fate. She needed Enoch to live. She dared not yet admit to herself why she could not let him die. The world needed him. She needed him too.

The Cainite soldiers piling over the barricades paused in astonishment as they saw the girl, bow aimed at the angel. Hundreds of eyes saw.

If it killed him? Surely her aim was not that good? Tears blinded her, and her aim faltered. She couldn't focus!

Azrael filled his lungs with air, to give his downward strike all the more force.

Half blind, Naamah let the arrow fly. 

The arrow tore through Azrael's cheek, slicing it cleanly in half. His sword smashed onto the stone pavement, and the iron shattered only a hand's width from Enoch's head. The angel grabbed his face, blood spurting from between his clenched fingers, and he crumpled to the ground.

Naamah dropped the bow, trembling. The Cainite soldiers couldn't believe what they had seen.

Enoch stood and approached her. He took her hand. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the wounded angel.

"Come, Naamah," Enoch said. He remembered that he had spoken similar words to her before - when the Herabites were attacking Nod - he had urged her to escape with him across the river. She would have followed him then, if the angel that lay bleeding in the street before them now had not then appeared in flaming glory in the sky.

She followed him without a word. Azrael watched them through bloody fingers.  

Enoch would love her, and she would love him - of that Azrael was now aware. That knowledge alone was not what was creating so much agony within him at this moment.  It was the fact that she was leaving him. She had rejected him. She had chosen another to follow - another to look at in awe.

Azrael's heart burned in a jealous rage as the two disappeared into the smoke rising from the bridge.

Caleb greeted them in the billowing black smoke. 

"Come on!" He shouted. He grabbed Naamah's hand and hauled her through the heat. Enoch followed close behind until they emerged onto the second bridge, where no fires had been lit. Enoch saw that near the end of the bridges, close to the forest, a battle was raging. The slaves were trapped from both ends.

"The Cainites will be upon us from the city side any moment!" Enoch said.

Caleb just stared at him. Enoch waited for him to say something.