Fallen from the arch

Preface

They all knelt around the Arch, shoulders touching and wings spread straight up behind them. They did not pray, nor did they worship anything, they just knelt in silence, staring into the glistening surface of the Arch, and mourning the greatest loss they would ever have.

Long before time was put into being, there was the Creator, who sculpted the cosmos and forged the heavens. The heavens, is where the angels trained and worked while the Creator made the planets, the stars, and then, the Arch. The arch was what would give the gods their powers, and keep them all alive. The gods called upon the angels, asking the angels to serve them, and the angels sent thirty-six of the oldest and strongest to guard the arch, and they were crowned as the Archangels.

The Highest among them guarded the thrones of all the gods, that ever were, and ever would be. He was the Archangel of perfection, the son of dawn, the Morning Star. His name was Lucifer. He was the first angel to be birthed into existence, and he was given all the wisdoms that the gods would have. The second born, was the angel of death. Azrael had two things to his name, death, and war. He was undisputedly the strongest warrior, and had proven it time and time again when the Archangels had a dispute that needed settled.

After the Creator was finished with eternity, they turned around to look at their work. They saw gods of all types, and rulers of many domains. The Creator made a special planet for them. One not too far away from a star, but not too close either. The angels watched and knew little of what the creator was doing, but they had trust in their decision.

For the first time since their creation, the Creator addressed the gods, it's voice indescribable to mortal man. It spoke "With time, the stone which I hath lain will team with life. Fret not for its fates, nor worry of it's content. Thou shalt do as thy doth wish toward thine being, and thy brothers. Further, thine lives may now be dampened and should thy quarrel, may be not more. Take care of thineselves, and bring many beings to thy shared stone."

A gentle wind blew through the heavens as the presence of the Creator faded into the Arch. The gods looked toward the planet, mumbling amongst themselves and debating what fate it would have. The angels looked at the gods in disgust at their immediate disobedience. Soon, the gods started throwing themselves into frenzies of creation. Making beasts of fur that walked on the land and hunted other creations, peaceful beings that ate the vegetation that a selective few gods had thought to create. Some of the gods simply sat and watched, awaiting a job of a sort, whilst others made mountains and islands.

There was a pause, and the gods stepped back. They looked over their creations and felt satisfied, every god had made at least one thing on the planet they were given, except for the youngest amongst them. He had no name, and refused to take one as well. Lucifer ushered him to the view of all the older gods and nudged him onward. The young god knelt down and took up a handful of clay. His youthful eyes shifted from Lucifer back to the clay as he sculpted, working slowly and calmly shaping it to look like him. A well muscled body, two legs, two arms, and a well placed head, high on the center. He handed it to the son of Dawn and smiled. Lucifer inspected it quietly with a curious eye.

"What are you trying to make little god? What is this?"

The small god softly grasped his creation and breathed life into it, and set it on the grass of a great garden, and giggled. The gods watched as the newly created man stood and took his first breaths of new life.