by Bryan Davis
To sow the seeds of fallen man.
The giants planted here must grow
Escaping from these lands below.
In Naamah’s womb prepare your soil.
With calloused hands we’ll sweat and toil.
O make your seeds become like trees
To trample Adam’s hopeless pleas.
With both hands trembling, Lilith raised the cup to her mouth and took a long, slow drink. She closed her eyes and grimaced, a shudder crawling across her pale cheeks. After licking her lips, she rubbed some of the liquid into each of her palms, then extended the cup to Naamah.
“You must be joking!” Naamah said, squinting at the curling purple fumes. “I’m not drinking that!”
Lilith took Naamah’s hand and wrapped her fingers around the handle. “Just smell it! That’s all I ask. Then decide if you want to drink or not.”
Naamah tightened her grip on the handle and gazed into the cup. Thick gray liquid bubbled inside. Warm vapors and a pleasant aroma bathed her senses. As she took in the delightful smell, her throat dried out, filling her with a sudden desire to drink. Her tongue clamped to the roof of her mouth, parched and swelling. It was more than a desire. She had to drink. Now!
She guzzled the liquid, then slung the cup against the cave wall and glared at Lilith. “You tricked me!”
Lilith wagged her finger. “It was for your own good.”
Naamah crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the earthen shards. “I am going to turn into something disgusting, aren’t I?”
“The potion does much more than that. Even if our earthly bodies die, we will be able to exist in another form. As our new bodies age, we will be able to use Samyaza’s power to regenerate ourselves. But if we can get on the boat, we won’t have to worry about unsavory transformations at all.”
Naamah swung her head back toward Lilith and rose to her feet. “On the boat, you say?”
“Yes. The most obvious phantasmal thread leads to a terrible flood. Our enemy is building a boat that we could use to save ourselves, but the builders have a strange shield around it. Although normal humans can penetrate it, the Watchers and Nephilim haven’t been able to. They want to destroy it and change Elohim’s plan to flood the world. I, however, wish to find a way to get us on board in case they fail.”
Naamah paced slowly in front of her sister. “I know a man who is working on a boat. He said it is very large and well-supplied.”
“That would be the one,” Lilith replied. “But the builders are unlikely to give away the secret of the shield.”
“When he is at the market, he speaks only of supplying the boat.” Naamah stopped, cocked her head upward, and smiled. “But when he visits my room, his lips become quite loose.”
Lilith scowled. “Loose being the operative word.” She stood and slipped her hand around Naamah’s elbow. “Did this man mention the shield?”
Naamah swiveled her hips, twirling her dress slowly back and forth. “No, but if you let me sing a song to him, I can charm him into spilling his secrets.”
“Oh, really?” Lilith tipped her head upward and stroked her chin. “What’s his name?”
“Ham.” A burning pain drilled into Naamah’s pelvis. She laid a hand over her stomach but tried not to show how much it hurt. “I don’t know his family name.”
“I wish you had told me about this before,” Lilith said, tapping her foot on the ground. “We have to find this man.”
The pain stabbed Naamah again, but deeper than before, as if something had grasped her womb with sharpened claws. Still, she forced herself to keep a calm face. “If you’d let me in on your secrets once in a while, maybe I would have known you were trying to get on board.”
Lilith glanced out at the bushes again and slowly turned back. “Very well. I will tell you why we are on this journey. You will soon see how all my plans tie together.” She picked up a long stick and stirred the coals in their fire, creating a billowing gray plume. A new vision coalesced in the smoke, an angel standing next to a tree. The fire spewed a finger of flame through the angel’s hand, making him appear to have a brilliant sword that flashed as he stood guard.
“That is the Tree of Life, and I have long coveted its fruit.” Lilith pointed at the flame. “Here is our problem. One of the Cherubim protects it with a sword that creates a shield of light.”
“I see,” Naamah said. “Now that you have one of the Seraphim on your side . . .”
“You’re way ahead of me.” Lilith glanced outside and checked the brightening morning sky. “Samyaza will be there soon. I want to see him battle the Cherub and win the sword, then we can pluck the fruit at our leisure. Once he has regained his weapon, he will be invincible, perhaps even against the archangels.”
Lilith arose and, bending low, sneaked out of the cave. Naamah followed close behind, pressing her hand against her belly again. Whatever that potion was, it seemed to be turning her organs inside out.
Constantly glancing at the sky, they wound their way through a dense forest, padding softly on a wide clover path until it opened into a field. Lilith halted suddenly and stooped next to a leafy bush. Naamah leaned over her, trying to follow her sister’s line of sight. In the distance, a white glow arose above a thick, thorny hedge that extended as far as the eye could see.
Lilith’s voice softened to a low hiss. “The hedge is Eden’s boundary. The thorns are sharper than any sword, and the poison in the tips will shrivel you into a prune in seconds. The only way to enter is through the guarded gate.” She skulked to the hedge and followed it toward the glow, Naamah once again trailing her. As they drew closer, a gap appeared in the hedge, and the guarded tree came into view. Stooping again, Lilith pointed at a beautiful, white-robed angel. “His sword shoots out a beam of light that can kill us even this far away. As long as he waves it over his head, it creates an almost impenetrable shield around himself and the tree.”
Naamah settled quietly behind her and peered at the darkening sky. Black clouds boiled overhead. Bolts of lightning streaked jagged forks across the heavens. “Something weird is happening,” she whispered.
“I didn’t expect this.” Lilith’s brow bent downward. “Samyaza planned to come by stealth, not with a lightning fanfare.”
Naamah pointed toward the top of a tall sycamore tree. “I see him.”
A winged angel, bright and shining against the stormy backdrop, glided to the ground, his silver hair flowing in the freshening breeze. Dressed in white robes, drawn tight at his waist by a golden sash, he strode to the gate and spoke to the other angel in a booming voice. “Greetings in the name of Elohim.”
The Cherub nodded, waving the sword to keep the shield in place. “May our God be glorified forever. What brings a Seraph to Eden’s boundary today?”
“I have come to relieve you of your duty. You are to return to the council for a new assignment.”
The Cherub glanced up at the troubled sky. “Something is amiss. I sense God’s hand moving in the heavens, yet no messenger has alerted me of a change.”
“I am the messenger.” Samyaza held out his hand. “Give me the sword and go your way.”
The Cherub lowered the sword, and the shield blinked off, but he kept the hilt firmly in his grip. “With all due respect, my liege, what is your name?”
“I am Samyaza, prince of the guardian angels.” He took a step closer, bringing him within arm’s reach of the Cherub. “It would not be wise to continue questioning my authority. Remember Lucifer’s folly.”
The sword trembled in the Cherub’s hand, but his voice remained steady. “Your name is familiar to me, and you have the wings of a Seraph, but I am here by order of the Majesty on High, so I cannot abandon my post on your word alone. Only Michael can countermand the order.”
Streaks of darkness shot out from Samyaza’s eyes, splashing the Cherub with a sizzling, oily resin that stuck fast to his robes and spread quickly over his hands and face. The sword�
�s light flashed on in the blinded angel’s hands, sending a bright beam blazing into the sky. Samyaza lunged forward and shook the Cherub’s wrist, slinging the blade under the branches.
Pushing the angel to the side, Samyaza flew toward the trunk, snatched up the sword, and stalked toward the gate. The Cherub threw himself toward the sound of Samyaza’s pounding footsteps and wrapped his arms around his neck. The powerful Seraph reached back, grabbed the Cherub’s hair, and heaved him toward the tree. The resin-covered angel slammed against the trunk, knocking white fruit to the ground. Samyaza marched toward him, his sword raised.
A loud clap of thunder shook the earth. Another angel, the largest yet, burst from the clouds and zoomed to the ground, landing with a drawn sword raised to strike. “Be gone, Samyaza, you wretched liar. You will not have this tree or its fruit.”
Samyaza backed away, visibly trembling. “Michael! I have no quarrel with you. This was my sword before I ”
“Before you left our Lord and Master to satisfy your carnal desires.” Michael helped the Cherub to his feet, and with a wave of his hand, the black resin melted away. “Take the sword and crawl back into your hole with your corrupted followers. It will be nothing more than a carving knife to you now.”
Samyaza held the sword aloft, but it created no beam. Not even the tiniest spark flashed from the blade. He thrust the tip into a patch of clover and drove the sword into the ground up to the hilt, then shook his fist at Michael. “The people will follow us, not the tyrant in heaven! They want to be free of his authority, and we will teach them to follow the longings of their hearts!”
Michael waved his sword and a new, brighter shield covered the tree. As the dome swirled with radiance, the entire plot of ground ripped away from the earth, uprooting the tree and carrying Michael, the Cherub, and the fallen fruit with it. “If people want true life and freedom,” Michael said as they slowly lifted into the sky, “they will look above. Like rain from the heavens, that is the source of their deliverance.”
Boiling clouds swallowed the shimmering tree, and, for a moment, all was quiet. Samyaza stared at the ominous ceiling, slowly turning and backing away from the garden. His wings beat the air, and, just as his feet lifted off the ground, a dragon burst out of the clouds shooting twin jets of fire from its nostrils.
Black streams surged from Samyaza’s eyes, colliding with the fire. The impact created a sizzling eruption of smoky gas that spewed high into the air. The dragon pulled out of its dive and zoomed by Samyaza, smacking him with its tail before ascending again toward the clouds. Samyaza toppled, but a flurry of his wings kept him from striking the ground.
Lilith leaned over and whispered to Naamah. “Samyaza likely remembers how his master conquered the first female human. It will be interesting to see how he deals with the first female dragon.”
Samyaza yanked the sword out of the ground and stabbed it at the sky. “Does the mate of Arramos only fight when she can attack by surprise?” He turned in a slow circle, his eyes darting in all directions. “Come and meet me in single combat, if you dare!”
Shachar burst out of the clouds again, and with a great beating of her wings, she landed in front of Samyaza. “I am not a dog to be baited by a bone,” she roared.
The Seraph spread out his arms. “Yet, you are here, panting and drooling for the very bone you disdain.”
“Only to lance a demonic abscess.” She pawed the ground with her claws. “If you desire a fair fight, drop the sword and let us see who wields the greater power.”
“As you wish.” Samyaza bowed dramatically and released the sword.
“Step away from it,” Shachar ordered. “Far away.”
Samyaza marched several paces to one side and gestured toward the sword. “Satisfied?”
Shachar nodded her scaly head. “Trusting you is a fool’s game, but I will risk what I must to rid the world of its greatest plague.”
The shining angel flashed a wicked smile. “Since you are the aggressor, I invite your first volley.”
Shachar lunged at him, her teeth bared and her nostrils flaming. Samyaza dipped under her jets and latched on to her tail as she passed over. With a mighty spin, he slung her in the direction of the sword. The dragon crashed to the ground and slid next to the hilt. As she lifted her wobbly head, her eyes seemed glazed and distant.
Samyaza zoomed to her side and grabbed the sword. With a dramatic thrust, he plunged the blade into the dragon’s underbelly. Shachar let out an ear-piercing shriek and writhed in the grass. “Coward!” she screamed. “Deceiver!” She spat out a weak ball of fire, but it rolled past the towering Seraph as he backed away.
When the dragon’s throes settled down, Samyaza grasped the hilt of the sword and withdrew it from her body, jumping away from a gush of fluids. He glared at the bloody blade and dropped it to the ground. “Disgusting creatures!” With a flap of his wings, he lifted into the air and disappeared in the blanket of clouds.
Shachar opened her mouth as if trying to speak. She twitched for a moment, then heaved a final sigh as her eyes slowly closed.
Lilith and Naamah ran toward the dragon. Lilith snatched up the sword and wiped the blade on the grass. “Samyaza might not be able to use this,” she said, turning the blade over to clean the other side, “but if I can find the secret behind its flame, it could be a powerful weapon indeed.”
She propped the blade on her shoulder and strode through the gateway, now unattended by angel or dragon. Naamah followed, gazing at the devastated garden. Knotted trees with bent crowns and twisted branches plagued the endless fields of dry grass. On one squared-off plot, leggy bushes hunkered over a tangled mess of tall weeds and thorny vines. Hundreds of thistles raised bristly heads among row after row of dwarfed fruit trees and shriveled vegetables. Naamah let out a low whistle. This was no paradise, no land of perfection, despite the claims of her childhood songs.
Lilith tramped down to the bottom of the hole where the tree once stood. She stooped, pinching a sample of soil and drawing it close to her eyes. “Not a trace. Not a root or seed anywhere.”
Naamah noticed a glinting speck in the dirt. “Here’s something!” She plucked out a smooth white pebble, barely as large as her fingertip, and handed it to Lilith. “Could this be a seed?” she asked. “It looks like a pearl.”
“It could be.” Lilith knelt where Naamah found the pebble and used her finger to stir the soil, a mixture of moist brown dirt and a strange white paste. “Here are two more.” She collected them and slid all three into her pocket. “We’ll keep them for posterity.”
“Posterity?”
“Future generations. I don’t know how long it takes to grow a Tree of Life, but I intend to find out.”
Lilith gazed toward a path that led into a stand of skinny oaks. “The other tree should be in that direction,” she said, pointing.
As she headed toward the wood, she swiped Samyaza’s sword in front of her as if fending off an invisible enemy or perhaps testing its weight and balance. Naamah had to jog to keep pace with her sister. Lilith’s stern expression told her it wasn’t a good time to ask questions, so she just stayed at her side, taking in the sights of loss and waste in the massive garden.
After following the path through the trees, they arrived at a glade. In the center of a circle of grass, a tree, heavy with red, oblong fruit, stood tall and lush. Lilith strode right up to the nearest branch and called out, “Lucifer, my lord and master, I bring you vital information.”
A fresh breeze flapped Lilith’s dress as she stood in stoic silence, the tip of the sword touching the ground in front of her. The wind crawled up Naamah’s legs, bringing her a chill. The pain in her stomach had settled, but a new queasiness took over. Something foul drew near, worse than a fetid carcass. Whatever it was seemed to seep through her skin and into her heart, making it slow to a few, sickening thumps.
Soon, a gentle hissing joined the shush of the wind. A long, thick snake slithered out onto the
branch and rested its head near a bobbing fruit. Lilith extended her arm and pushed her hand under the serpent’s belly. Bearing scales like sun-baked leather, black hexagons meshed with olive green, the snake crept along Lilith’s pale arm. Its tongue darted in and out from its triangular head as it spoke in a slow, threatening cadence. “If you have come to tell me about Naamah’s customer, you have come in vain. While I am in this cursed condition, my disciples sneak in through the garden’s western gate. One of my agents overheard your conversation and reported the news about this boat builder.”
“So that’s what we heard in the bushes,” Lilith said. “It was a spy.”
The snake flicked its tongue, touching her cheek with its forked points. “I send spies on my enemies and my followers, especially followers as ambitious as you.”
As the snake wrapped a coil around Lilith’s neck, she lifted her chin and swallowed hard. “And how shall we use the information, my lord?”
The snake maneuvered its head in front of Lilith’s eyes, wavering back and forth in a hypnotic sway. “I sent my agent to speak to my servant, Lamech, son of Mathushael. I have ordered Lamech to adopt Naamah into his family. Naamah’s new brother, Tubalcain, knows Ham and will offer her to be Ham’s wife.”
“His wife?” Naamah said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ham is a regular customer, but that doesn’t mean I want him for a husband!”
The serpent’s head shot toward Naamah, its fangs extended as it bit the empty air just inches in front of her eyes. Naamah staggered backwards, catching one of the tree’s branches to keep her balance. Recoiling over Lilith’s shoulders, the serpent hissed, “Either marry him or die!”
Naamah shivered in the tree’s shadow, holding her stomach again as the fierce pain stabbed her insides.
The serpent turned its flaming red eyes back to Lilith. “Ham’s father will recognize your name, so you must change it before you meet him. We cannot allow him to know who and what you are.”
“Of course, my lord.” Lilith kept her head tilted upward. “Do you have a preference?”
