“Yes, that is why I wish to speak with you. None of the other animals speak. I am lonely,” he said slithering closer to her.
“Well yes, let us speak,” she said smiling. “What would you like to speak about?”
“Oh, I do not really know. I only learned how a short time ago. What should we speak about? What do things that speak talk about?” asked the serpent as he raised himself to her eye level.
“Whatever you would like. Oh, I know. How did you learn to speak?” she asked him.
“I do not really know. The last thing I remember was eating an apple from the large tree on the other side of the garden,” he said swaying gently from side to side.
“You ate from the Tree of Knowledge?” she asked with a gasp.
“Yes, are we not supposed to?” he asked her.
“No. It is the only tree God commanded us not to eat from,” she answered, a grave look upon her face.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the serpent. “What is going to happen to me?”
“I do not know,” she answered.
“He did not tell you what would happen?”
“No. He did not,” she said.
“I wonder why He did not tell you what would happen. I should think if He really did not want you to eat from it, He would have told you what would happen if you did,” said the serpent as he inched closer to her.
“He is God. I am sure He has his reasons,” she answered.
“I am sure He does. But look at me. I ate from the tree and nothing bad happened to me. In fact, I became more like you. I learned to speak and think. Who knows what else I will learn or become?” he said.
“Yes, you do seem to have learned much in a very short amount of time,” she replied.
“Indeed, I have,” said the serpent smiling, obviously proud of itself. “That is it!” it suddenly exclaimed.
“What is it?” asked Eve.
“What if eating from, what did you call it again?”
“The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil,”
“Yes! That was it. What if eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil will make you more like Him?”
“What do you mean?” she asked leaning forward in interest.
“Well, I ate from the tree and I became more like you. What if you eat from it and become more like God?” asked the serpent again.
“No, I could not!” she exclaimed. They had obviously crossed into a topic of conversation she was not comfortable with.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it is not right. We were told not to eat from it,” she answered.
“Yes, but what if He told you that to see just how far you would go to show your love for Him?” asked the serpent as it coiled into a spiraling position of comfort. “Do you not think it is lonely being God?”
“Lonely? Why would He be lonely?” she asked.
“Because He has no one to talk to,” answered the serpent as it rested its head on its coiled body.
“That is just silly. He has us to speak with,” she answered.
“But does He really? I mean no offense, but only to say that neither you nor Adam can possibly understand everything that He understands and you cannot possibly speak with Him as we are speaking now, as equals,” he said, pausing just briefly enough for the potential to take seed. “I can tell you from experience, once I learned to speak, I was very lonely; until I met you, of course.” He saw the consideration of his words begin to resonate inside the chamber of her mortal logic. So small was it, so trivial and so subjectively swayable needing only the slightest nudge to change their course completely. “Think on this. How lonely would you feel if the only one you had to speak with were the animals who could not speak in return? I am only suggesting this because I know how happy I am being able to speak with you and I know He would be just as happy.”
He could see that his seed of doubt along with the seed of a solution to that doubt had been planted. But he would not press her any more. To do so would be to steer her in the opposing direction. Rather, he would sit and watch, innocently inserting himself into her path to speak to her about inconsequential subjects illustrating how pleasant it would be to speak with God in the same manner as they spoke. It was not long before she introduced him to Adam allowing the three of them to sit under the Tree of Life speaking about all matters and potentials of mortality. And then one day, Eve suggested they sit under the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil to better view the sunset. The serpent, Satan, declined saying that he had grown hungry and needed to search for something to eat, but Adam agreed.
He knew it would not be long before she ate the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, influencing Adam to do the same. Neither would it be long before their disobedience would render God’s Grace void from their lives, and indeed, that of the entirety of creation itself. For once disobedience has occurred, their dominion would shift from a divine condition of Grace to a mortal condition of subjugation. And by disobeying God, they would have subjected themselves to that which they obeyed, him. And, unlike God, he would hand nothing over to them preferring instead to keep the dominion that was rightfully his.
In his youth, if he could be considered to have been young once, his rage blinded him from the truth of his vengeance. You see, Satan thought gaining dominion over heaven would bring God to submission thereby allowing him to usurp His reign. So, he launched two direct wars against its gates only to find them impervious and unbreachable to his demonic assaults. Try as he might, he would never penetrate into the realm of his creator and never usurp His rulership of the immortal. It was not until he considered man that he understood the true path for his treasonous manifestations, that just because he could never hope to gain a foothold in one of the dimensions, it did not mean he could not gain a foothold, and more, in the other. And on the day he finally realized the key of man’s choice, granted by the very nature of God, that of perfect and all abounding love, had been turned to unlock the once unlockable tumblers set tightly around his rage, he felt the closest thing to joy he had ever felt since The Five removed God’s Grace.
In a violent rapture of unbound satisfaction, he sang the silent song of unsung plans with a vocalization of everything his twisted intent had become. But his was not the only powerful song that was sung that day. Casting a shadow of sadness and sorrow stretching from the beginning of all things to the ending of them was the voice of God resonating so profoundly that the Pillars of Heaven, The Five, felt small. But as sorrowful as it was, it was not the sound of defeat; rather, it blared a trumpeting call to action. For in the moment of its ending, when God had fully sated his sadness, a Light was born to show the way through the darkness that had descended upon the earth. This birth was the hope, the truth, and the life He had promised for His children but had been stolen by the deceptive entity that was Satan. And at just the right and perfect time, His Light would walk upon the earth once again. For God was not done with His creation. It was not in the nature of Love to forsake what it loved. Nor was its nature fleeting like an autumnal, dying leaf to be blown wherever the winds of hate dictate. Love endures. And through this endurance, the day would come when it would reign again. The day would come when the Son would be born.
But that day was not today. Satan had more than enough time to subvert the condition of life’s initial intent through his twisted influence. Things like, murder, rape, deception, lies, war, disease, and all other manifestations of evil entered the world through Satan’s gateway of rulership. So thorough was he with his insidious nature that God flooded the world to cleanse it, saving only what would be required to propagate life again. And while all of Satan’s previous implementations had perished leaving only one pious couple to begin again, it would not be long before their failures would be exposed and the process of his treacherous insurgence would begin again. Emerging from this unblemished, new beginning were false gods and their worship, disobedience to God and family, murder, adultery, theft, lies, and coveting. In an attempt
to show the path and realign what was wrong, God bore, in stone, the heart of Himself in ten simple commandments meant to illustrate that even in their simplicity, the law could not be followed apart from Him. But such was the foothold Satan had gained on the hearts and souls of men that even the simplest of commandments were reasoned away, preferring to believe their own mortal justifications for emotional feelings. And so, men failed again. And he would do so again, and again, and again until, at the preordained time, The Son was born.
In that moment, all of Heaven rejoiced, and none more than The Five. Born through a virgin woman was the very physical, mortal representation of God. Seeing no way for man to redeem himself, God did what man could not. He redeemed his soul. But Satan was not willing to relinquish his hold over mortality without a battle, so he fought. He employed every tactic he could and called upon every subversive hold instilled in the educated, religious community to corrupt what should have been a worldwide welcoming of The Christ, to twist it into a perversion ending in His death through crucifixion. So thorough had been his actions, and so horribly had humanity behaved that even The Five retreated into a completely immortal existence forsaking their physical presence completely. Though the souls of man were saved by The Christ suffering him the defeat of all defeats, he was not without his consolation prize – a prize that may well prove to be mortality’s undoing.
You see, while God’s Holy presence was protecting Heaven from a direct assault from anything not of God, so too had The Five protected all of mortality. And when they retreated to the astral plane, the plane of ethereal existence, he believed their protection to be lifted leaving the world to suffer the advance of his demonic legions. So, he advanced, and so he was wrong. Much like they did in Heaven, his legions crashed upon the shield of protection. And though it was strong enough to deny he and his minions entry, it was not the same. It had been weakened. However, its integrity remained largely intact allowing for only very small gateways to be opened, and opened only for fleeting seconds. As it was, Satan’s grand plan for unleashing his hordes of wickedness upon the earth were shattered from a dream of grandiose battles, into a thousand shards of evil, each acting on the individual behalf of their master.
Had it not been for Michael, the first Archangel, Lucifer’s younger brother (if angels could be brothers) his slow infiltration of God’s creation might have been successful. On all but two occasions, before his numbers grew beyond the point of individual fights, when he could have mustered an attack against the kingdoms of men, Michael summoned his beasts to hunt down Satan’s demons. And on the two occasions when Satan actually had advanced his numbers, though hiding, deception, and patience, far enough to form two great armies, Michael’s summoned beasts still prevailed. Through defeat after defeat, Satan learned that while weakened enough to allow for a greater physical influence, the protective barrier of The Five was intact enough to support those who would stand against him. There was only one way this was possible, for there was only one thing in mortality that bore the strength to carry that which is immortal – man’s immortal soul.
So, for the second time, he searched the souls of men to find the key. But this time he had no difficulty locating them. Confirming his suspicions more brightly than a lighthouse confirming the location of land to a wayward sailor, five souls of mortals erupted into his meditative search, each supporting a pillar of God’s Great Canvas. If he could control the mortal bodies of these souls, then perhaps he could control the that which stood against him. Perhaps he could control an aspect of The Five. Even the smallest amount of their awesome power could sway the conflict giving him what he would need to finally reap the glorious vengeance he so desperately sought. Yet these souls would not manifest into God’s mortal expression for years to come, so he would have to wait, and watch, and plan.
And plan he did. He would weave into their lives and minds the mechanics necessary to subvert any realization that these infinitely unworthy mortals would ever manifest the totality of the gifts they had been given. He would play upon their weaknesses like the greatest of musicians and twist into them that which he needed to ensure their impotence. Systematically, he would insert himself into their lives at just the right moments to ensure his vengeance by rendering any attempts they may be lucky enough to muster against he and his as nothing more than ripples in his ocean of vengeful desires. And when he had beaten them, when he had reduced them to a shattered vision of God’s creation, when the souls of the very Dragons they had been entrusted with had been so thoroughly forgotten, he would unleash the fullness of his wickedness. He would unleash it, and Creation would suffer his wrath.
“Prince Rendunial, it is a pleasure to see you,” she said as she rounded the corner. “I only just saw Prince Eriboth not more than a moment ago.” The elder prince was everything Eriboth was not which is to say he was every bit the formal, dapper and refined Elvish Prince that Eriboth would never be.
“Lady Zamorinthia, the pleasure is mine wholly and completely,” he said as he reached for her hand. Instinctively, she allowed him to grasp her, ever so gently, by her fingers and complete his greeting with a gentle kiss. She giggled in response.
“The Prince is too kind,” she replied, letting her fingers linger within his tender grip.
“The Prince only reflects what he feels in the presence of the beautiful Lady of House Endinudon. Will you be attending the ceremony and celebration tonight?” he asked her.
“Would The Prince like me to be there?” she asked him.
“Indeed I would. I will make sure to save you a dance, and maybe more,” he said as he winked, offered a slight bow, and dismissed himself.
They were young in their studies, but both excelled beyond what was anticipated of them as first year Initiates in The University of Knowledge. Often times, to promote the healthy competitive nature between the students necessary for excellence, the wizards often held contests between the differing levels of Initiates. Regardless of the contests, the results for their year were always the same. Bengrako would always score first and Intellos would always be a close second. Though not forgotten, third place alternated between any number of students who displayed excellence in their desired area of interest and talent, but none did as well as the other two across the board of skills. This pattern held true until the final contest of the year, the contest that would see Bengrako’s already self-determined “Wizard of the Year” trophy stripped from him and granted to Intellos.
The contest was simple enough. The wizards were charged with building a singularly difficult construction out of wood. Naturally, this produced a fever within the student body to study and learn as much as they could about the nature of wood. Such was the determination of the first year Initiates that several fist fights broke out over the duration the books remained in the possession of the individual students. At one point the scrum became so heated one of the Acolytes magically intervened in order to prevent permanent injury.
Because of his young age, Intellos stayed away from any and all forms of physical conflict preferring to wait and watch. To him, there were two distinct necessities for completing the task. First and most evident, some would even say obvious, was the requirement of gaining knowledge regarding wood. And second, a much more subtle and often overlooked challenge, was the knowledge of building. Just because one knows about wood, he surmised, did not mean that the construction would naturally possess the integrity to withstand the tests the judging wizards undoubtedly had in mind. So, while the other Initiates were studying wood and how to magically manipulate it, he was learning the various building principles that would sustain his creation through the tests. However, so absolved had he become in learning about building, that he completely neglected learning what he would need to about wood in general to allow his talent to manipulate it magically. With the judging only weeks away, and all of the books about wood occupied by the other Initiates, he was left with only one path. He would have to build his structure by hand and hope the judges would
not disqualify him.
The task was to build a bridge out of wood spanning a short distance. It was not a large distance, only three feet, but it was a complicated task nonetheless. Bridge after bridge and student after student were scored. Some holding up to the testing weight quite well, and others bowing quite noticeably. But to a student, all of the structures were smoothly fashioned showing no visible joints, a clear indication magic had been employed in the building process. All, that is, except Intellos’s. Not only was his visibly jointed with nails and other bindings, it arched upward whereas the others either arched downward, or not at all. But that was not the only difference in his construct, it also had a supporting arch with several support bracers spanning between the two individual arches. Not only did it support the test weight without even the slightest of bowing, but it supported three times it with ease. When Intellos was awarded the first place, it was naturally met with opposition from the other Initiates, some even calling for his disqualification. In response, the panel of judges said only this, “Young Intellos violated no rule or requirement of this competition. Sometimes, as Wizards, we focus only on magical solutions, to our detriment. We must be continually reminded that magic is but one tool in the arsenal that makes the Wizard. It is not the only one.” In that moment, when Intellos surpassed Bengrako and was awarded the Initiate of the Year Award, Bengrako felt envy.
It was late and he was tired. Having worked all day in the forge under a less that proficient master, his arms ached from the amount of correcting work he needed to finish. Truth be told, the days the master forger went to the tavern instead of the forge were the best. However, he had recently been hired to produce new weapons and armors for the city guards. And with that added responsibility came added visibility. It was one thing for a noble to hire him to forge a single item, but a different matter altogether when the whole city asks for multiple items. Whereas the noble would be content to avoid further visits until the item was complete, the captain often visited the forge, inspecting items as they were completed. This caused the forgemaster to increase his attendance as well. It was expected that he work diligently and was seen working diligently on the majority of the pieces. It would not due to have his understudy seen making most, if not all of the pieces as he normally did. So, because of the less than competent forgemaster’s increased presence, he had been forced to stay late to correct the imperfections in his mater’s work.
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