Yes...yes...perhaps I’d expected too much from the start.
Oxygen flooded its lungs, and the creature gasped for air, but the mud partially blocked his intake, and he drew only short labored breaths, gurgling and gasping with each inhale.
“This is man. He is made in your image—for you, my son—and for your unshakable will. And we shall call him Adam.”
Disappointed once more, I watched the mindless creature flail in the mud. His arms and legs moved sluggishly as he struggled to bring himself upright, and he never once wiped his eyes to see his surroundings.
“He’s feeble and dull. He isn’t of my image, nor yours.” I cast a glance behind me, my gaze lingering on the beautiful wings my Creator had gifted me. They were long and appeared white but when the Creator shone His generous light on me, they glowed with all the colors imaginable. And here, in this new sun, they shone and sparkled with every movement I made. Yes, I could get used to being watcher over the Earth as it reflected my beauty in all its glory.
I returned my attention to the pitiful creature before me. He sat perfectly still, as if the Creator had simply carved him and not imbued him with His gift of life.
Anger coursed through me at Adam’s ingratitude. “We should extinguish him and put him out of his misery,” I spat before thinking.
“I warn you, Lucifer, I gave you my Grace once and spared you. Do not disrupt the natural order of the Earth or its living things. I love all of my children. Heed my warning or you will not survive my wrath. It will be the death of you.”
The death of me?
Never before had He uttered such hurtful words to me. I bowed my head in contrition, and my mind scrambled to find the words to appease Him. “Perhaps he simply needs a helper?” I resisted the urge to nudge Him, to bring His attention back to me. I was His first born…His shining star, after all. Not this new...thing. “This man seems quite…” I searched for a tolerable word, taking a few moments to find one. “Helpless. I don't think he’ll survive alone in this state,” I offered in hopes the Creator would let what He saw as my insubordinate behavior slide.
The expression in His eyes softened. “You may guide and teach him but never harm one hair on his head,” He ordered.
I nodded my head in submission. “I understand, my All.”
The Creator studied Adam.
“We could make him a mate.” I lowered my voice as I offered my suggestion. “Perhaps one from the stars you named me after,” I continued. “For, surely, a being from the dust of the stars will shine bright and lead this Adam to safety?”
“No.”
The single word vibrated through me, and the sting of His rejection burned over my face. “I shall crawl upon the Earth for this…this example of inferiority?”
But He ignored my displeasure so I changed my tactics.
“Surely you have more compassion for your new creation than to let it wither and die before us?” I drew his hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Please, my All, create a feminine being from the stardust to give Adam aid. And to honor Mercy. It would also please Samael, I’m sure. He’s very focused on both Life and Death...” Yes, I’d started to wheedle, but I wasn’t used to Him ignoring me.
A laugh rumbled from the Creator. “My shallow son, I shall create a partner for Adam as you wish, one that is feminine to honor Mercy. A being in her image. As you say, it will please Samael, also.”
I didn’t dare to believe it. I leaned a little closer, waiting for words of condemnation or his next blow to remind me I’d overstepped my boundary and allowed my pride to show.
“But,” he continued. “As you have mentioned him, let us remember that Samael said, ‘From the mist and the mud and the fire let the sunlight create new life upon the earth’ And so it shall be: man formed from the mist and the clay and woman from the fire of the sun.”
Before I could protest, a blazing meteor streaked through the sky. A radiant ball, the size of a large boulder raced toward the Earth. It fell from the sky, landing 50 yards away and embedding itself into the lush green grass. Smoke rose in delicate tendrils, and small patches of flames broke out, extinguishing themselves under the Creator’s watchful eye. I glanced at Adam for his reaction, but he remained sitting in the mud, still unblinking and unmoving. I shook my head as my disdain for him reached greater depths.
The Creator extended His massive wings and ascended into the air in the direction of the crash. I tried to follow, but my wings wouldn’t extend. I tried again, then more carefully, thinking through every movement of each tiny muscle. Nothing. Broken. Something in this paradise had broken me. I reached behind me and patted over my smooth skin, feeling for the usual soft feathery tips of my wings. Nothing. Only two knobbled protrusions remained, slightly proud of my spine. What? I smiled briefly, nervousness controlling my mouth.
Then I tried again to open my wings at my will.
No extension.
No great unfurling of my beautiful wings.
As I reached behind me one more time, in case whatever had taken my wings had also replaced them, the words of the Creator flooded back to my mind and drowned out my hopes.
I cast you down Lucifer…
Cast me. He’d sent me down. To this, to our creation. Down. But I was created to fly, to be a creature of the Heavens. To sit at His right side, to be his favored son. Unexpected nausea roiled in my stomach. Down. The only things on this plane were what we’d created together. And the creatures we’d created together to roam this land, they didn’t have...didn’t have wings.
Even the birds and mindless insects could take flight, but I, His greatest creation had been cast down. We’d created them in our image.
But...no. A terrible chill crept into the center of my chest, stifling my breath and freezing my soul.
He’s taken my wings.
My thoughts stuttered, waves of nausea multiplied and rolled through me. My hands returned behind me, patting in vain over the lumpy, scarred skin, and I fell to my knees, cursing His name in silence. I wanted to hurl insults at Him, to shout them until the Heavens shook with the force of my rage at being forsaken, but I dared not say them out loud.
Hot tears dripped from my face as the reality of never seeing the Heavens again poured over me. Stabbing pains of anguish flooded my heart, piercing my soul. I grabbed my chest and tried to subdue the throbbing ache inside. But it grew, the hollow from earlier spreading, giving me numbness at least.
A thumping sound echoed in my ears, louder and louder until I thought I’d explode if I didn’t flee my creator...my father...and let out my pent up fury.
“Come, my Morning Star,” He called to me, but I ignored His order.
Smoke billowed from the boulder, filling the air with thick dark plumes, choking out the immediate glow of the sun, and I ran in the opposite direction of the blaze, of its oppressive heat and revealing light. My body ached as I maneuvered through the unfamiliar terrain as I sought the shadows in which to dwell and hide. Yet, I’d helped create this land, and instinctively my mind mapped it as if I’d walked it before as I scrambled to find my way. Yes, I was also a creator.
After all, I’d been created in his image. In his true image. Possibly more than he’d ever know.
My legs moved slower than usual, as if filled with lead. I felt his betrayal to the core of my bones. And that betrayal mixed with shame weighed even heavier. To be cast out...tarnished. Pushed. Surely nothing could make up for such a rejection? I bristled with a mix of self-pity and righteous indignation. And He thought I’d failed.
The ultimate parenting fail.
But if I could just get back, restore myself… I paused for just a moment as a fresh thought broke the stream of anger. If I could please Him again, perhaps I’d find my way into his good graces once more. Or, failing that, I could force myself back to everything I wanted. I’d never not had everything I wanted, wished for, or commanded.
There must be a way.
I ran under the trees and through the bush
es, branches and limbs tearing at me as I moved faster to the edge of a cliff.
And I jumped!
For one blissful moment, cool air whipped past me, caressing my face as it always had when I became weightless and took flight.
But instead of soaring into the air, I tumbled down the rocky terrain gashing my skin against the jagged edges. I cried out in pain, cursing this newly formed land and my grand idea to create a bumbling idiot stuck in the mud.
I sensed the Creator’s presence looming closer to me. “Leave me alone,” I cried.
“Come, leave your pity behind,’ He ordered. “You brought about your fall, Lucifer. You must make your own peace with it.”
I slumped my shoulders and sat on the ground. Dirt and dust covered my face and filled my nose. “I don’t want to,” I admitted, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
The Creator reached out and touched my shoulder. I flinched tugging my body away from His would-be embrace. My eyes slammed shut, and a warm sensation, like a soft breeze, brushed against my cheek. Love flowed into my angry heart.
Without opening my eyes, I whispered, “I love you, too.”
The warmth of His affection passed through me.
“Please let me have my—”
But His love moving through me dissolved before I finished my sentence. Even before I opened my eyes, He was no longer in my presence.
My request silently denied.
Denied.
I sucked in a deep breath and shook my head in disbelief.
This can't be happening!
Every nerve ending awakened, flooding my senses with pain and dread. Once beautiful, my body now sickened me. Perfection, replaced by a body covered in scratches and newly formed bruises and lacerations. I ran my fingers over the edges of my injuries, and salt and dirt from my fingers penetrated my torn-open skin. A gasp released from my lips as the sharp sting burning through me caused me to recoil from my own touch.
How could You do this to me? Corrupting the image of Your own son. Surely that is blasphemy! Yet, You accuse me of such a sin.
Forcing my fingers to reexamine the damage of my body, I brushed them over my chest. Then jabbed into the lacerations opening my flesh deeper. Blood spilled down my chest, mixing with the dirt and sweat, turning a ruddy brown color, as my muscles revolted and twitched at my unnatural intrusion. Yet, somehow the sensation dulled the rage racing through my mind—a temporary reprieve from the harsh reality I faced. My stomach tightened and released in an effort to spill its contents onto the ground.
Disgusted, I breathed in sharply and held it, counting the beats of time. Then, accepting my fate, I released my breath in a gush.
You will not defeat me.
Steely resolve coursed through my veins. I gathered myself up and lumbered along until I reached the base of the hill. Despair filled my belly at the thought of climbing to the top. Using all of my will, I focused on shifting to my cursed form. Anger spilled from every pore of my being in preparation for the painful shift before I morphed into a snake and hid underneath a bush. For a brief moment, I felt gratitude to Him as the shift didn’t cause me any pain, but I squashed that. Clearly, I needed to break the habit of thankfulness to Him. I made my way up to the precipice and rested, facing toward the source of the crash.
Nestled on a tree branch, I rested in the shade and contemplated my situation. A chill passed through me and settled in the core of my body, almost as if I’d never be warm again. My tongue darted out of my mouth in a hiss at the discomfort of my fate. In the distance, the Creator stood in front of the smoldering rock, and, unsure what he’d do next, I raised my head to get a better look at Him as He blew on the meteorite. Ash and embers swirled in the air and formed a funnel from His breath. With a wave of His hand, the tornado of air hovered above the fallen star.
Curious, I inched down the tree. The cold numbed and deadened my body, slowing my movements, and I poked my head into the sliver of the sun’s rays, instinctively craving the heat of Mercy’s ball of fire. Warmth surged into me, but when I recoiled the chill returned. I needed the sunlight to retain my body heat. Moving toward the last of the sunlight, I rested in the waning light absorbing its energy.
The Creator guided the channel of air to cascade over the glowing rock, releasing some of its life-giving force. The pressure of the whirlwind chiseled at the lump, setting the rock further ablaze. Then a razor sharp beam bored into the star, bursting it open, revealing the sculptor's rudimentary first draft.
He directed the air, swirling the funnel around the form. A pattern developed, etched slowly from fire and air. He’d made Adam from the muck and the mud, yet He created this being from the inside of a rock from the Heavenly skies. Fascination spiralled through me as He brought about a creature similar to Adam. But the contours had softer lines and curves, comparable in many ways to those of Mercy, yet they were more pronounced.
Long legs curved up to a narrow waist, which widened into perfectly proportioned breasts for her slight frame. The muscles in her arms were smaller than Adam's and certainly smaller than mine or Mercy’s. She wouldn’t be able to protect herself as easily as Adam could—if he only used his brain to think enough to move in the first place.
Why has He made her weak?
Her body rotated at the Creator’s whim, and each turn refined her alluring features. He tilted her head slightly, ever the artist as He worked, revealing a strong jaw and a long neck. Whereas Adam’s facial bones lay flat—with even his nose broad and splayed, without strong definition—this creature’s cheek bones, rested high. They nestled on either side of a strong nose, curving down to form hollows underneath her plump cheeks. Her flawless features resembled mine more than her own mate’s—the one she’d been made for—sharp and distinct, smoothly blending into a perfectly symmetrical face.
Her entire frame blazed a luminous orange, and the heat from her body radiated out toward me, warming my blood. The urge to curl around her enveloped my senses. I bit back the need to be closer to her, for surely I’d burn alive. She’d burn me alive. But that heat—it called to me.
Careful not to be seen, I climbed to a higher point in a bush. My mind grappled with the duality of this being. Mercy was beautiful but strong and...never once endangered by the weakness of her own frame or mind.
Why is He making this creation so beautiful, yet weak, when Adam is so feeble and dull?
The Creator beckoned the winds to blow over her in soft flurries, as if He sought to cool her burning body. Cinders fell from her form and fluttered into the darkened night sky. I flicked my tongue out and tasted the air. Smoke burned my eyes and soot rained down on me.
Yet, wonder filled my being at what He might do next. The thought of a feminine being, created from a star and not from the slime of the earth, encouraged me to creep closer. I glided to within a few yards of the creation site.
"Come, my Shining One," He called to me.
His command almost tempted me to shift to my true form, but I resisted. The need to deny Him the satisfaction of seeing my pleasure in His creation wouldn't allow me to transition, no matter how I yearned to explore this new being. But despite myself, I inched closer to the pit in the ground where her cooling body lay.
"Come, my child, and give her the Kiss of Life," He instructed.
The Kiss of Life! Surely, He is lying.
My mind reeled as my resolve faltered. I coiled around Him. Was it a test? If He thought of me as prideful and blasphemous, why would He command me to do His work and bring life to His own creation?
"You would allow such a thing?" I hesitated. "Surely it is only You who creates life? It isn’t my place. I can’t fathom such an idea."
I wouldn't be trapped so easily into His web of deceit. Perhaps this time, He wanted to trick me into my own demise. He’d promised my blasphemy would be the death of me, after all. I hadn’t forgotten His words. In fact, they reverberated warning through me even as eager anticipation begged me to agree to whatever he requested.
>
A boisterous laugh erupted from Him. "When your lies do not wound me, my son, truly they entertain me."
"I don’t believe it’s so," I insisted. "Why do you toy with me? So you may punish me further for what you call ‘blasphemous’ ideas or actions? Or simply for your entertainment?" I challenged.
His smiling face contorted into a stern glare.
"Rise," He commanded.
I wanted to resist Him, to act as if I didn't care, yet the thought of giving such an alluring being the Kiss of Life excited me to the point where I stopped listening to the voice crying caution inside me. Forcing all of my energy to the core of my being, I wound into a tight circle and sprang my true form upward.
"You truly intend to bestow such an honor upon me, my Lord?” Even as thoughts of the being beside us overpowered my senses in an overwhelming urge to touch her, I cast my gaze to the ground.
He stroked my hair, glancing at my unhealed injuries. "My son," he whispered.
Immediately, I fell to my knees and pressed a submissive kiss to His knuckles. "I’m not worthy," I lamented.
He ran His fingers over my collarbone, healing my wounds. As he guided me to my feet, He touched my chest and repaired the lacerations there, a simple stroke knitting the skin back together. The pain in my body ebbed away, invigorating me. My lips tugged into a small smile, and love and gratitude filled me. My heart overflowed with the age-old desire to please my Father.
"Is it even possible?" I wanted to believe it. I wanted to trust his offer might be genuine and conciliatory, that we could return to as we were before.
"Calm your fears," he insisted. He stared down into my eyes imparting the wisdom of the Heavens to me as He stroked His fingers across my cheek. "Remember who you are," He encouraged.
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