Adam recognized the manifestation taking place within Eve as it had done in himself. He pondered the commonality of the simultaneous revelations and could find no other source than the fruit itself. In a hushed, almost secretive tone, he asked, “Where did you get that fruit?”
Trembling with fear, Eve rigidly raised an arm and pointed to the Two Trees on the other side of the stream.
Adam gazed at the trees and let out a deep sigh. “Take me to the exact spot.”
Eve led Adam around the headwater and stopped directly beneath the branch where she found the fruit. She pointed to a bare spot on the lowest limb. “There,” Eve said penitently.
Adam traced the branch through the thicket of the interwoven canopy of the Two Trees until he reached the trunk of the Tree of Knowledge. He closed his eyes and used his inner strength to quell his anger. “Fruit from this tree was forbidden by the Creator.”
“I know,” Eve sobbed, “but the serpent said—”
“What serpent?” Adam interrupted, scanning the area. “I don’t see anything.”
Eve placed her hand on the branch the snake had rested on. “It was here a moment ago,” she said, searching frantically around the wellspring. “It couldn’t have gone far.” Eve sat down on the large roots that protruded from the base of the trees and cried. “I’m sorry.”
It was difficult for Adam to find the words to articulate the ramifications of Eve’s actions. This was by far the biggest breach in the commandments laid down by the Almighty that he could remember. To make matters worse, he had eaten from the fruit as well.
Before they could speak further about their actions, a strong wind penetrated the undergrowth of the Garden. It was brisk and driven with purpose. The wind flowed around the thick branches and wispy grasses as if the air itself had become an unseen liquid. It seethed in density and pressure as it poured its way to the two humans.
Dread engulfed Adam. “The Creator’s here.”
Eve wiped away her tears and peered through the vegetation. “I don’t see him.”
“He is here.”
Eve realized that it was her decision to eat the fruit that had loosed the Creator upon them. For the first time in her life, she experienced the hand of guilt weighing on her soul. Her breathing quickened and she gasped for every swallow of air. She fought to control her emotions, but fear closed in and surrounded her. Eve wanted to run far away, but knew the gesture would be futile. She held the half-eaten fruit in front of her and, wanting to hide the evidence of her disobedience, dropped it quietly between the tall-standing roots at the base of the Two Trees.
Adam looked to Eve and then back to himself. He understood for the first time they were both naked. He took her by the hand and moved closer to the trees. “Quickly, we must cover ourselves.”
“Why?”
“He cannot see us like this,” Adam replied, pulling the lower branches of the Tree of Life closer to their bodies to conceal their nudity.
A deep, thunderous voice emanated from the thick air surrounding the Two Trees. “Adam?” the voice asked into the stillness of the Garden.
Frightened, Adam and Eve retreated further into the undergrowth.
With a hint of dismay and a noticeable rise in anger, the voice demanded, “Where are you?”
Ashamed, Adam could no longer keep up the ruse of his absence from his god and, fraught with fear, stepped forward. “I am here, my Creator.”
The tendrils of dense atmosphere quickly pulled away from the paths and open corridors of the understory. It formed a large pillar of air that floated above the wellspring. The air churned as it gathered itself and became more opaque with each passing moment. As the Almighty spoke, flashes of light danced to each syllable along the column of tumultuous atmosphere. “Why do you conceal yourselves from me?”
“We are naked and feel ashamed.”
“Naked?” A black streak like a thunderstorm coursed through the pillar of air. “You have eaten fruit from the forbidden tree!” the Almighty roared. The column of roiling clouds pulsed with streaks of red-hot lightning.
Eve stepped forward, her panic-stricken voice stuttering out, “It—it was my fault, O Creator; it was I who gave Adam the fruit.”
“Why did you do such a thing?”
Eve shrunk back from the blistering question.
“I have endowed you with the greatest of all powers—to choose between right and wrong,” the Creator fumed. “And yet, you squander your gift!”
The column of roiling clouds shuddered and a powerful blast of air rocked the Garden. Adam and Eve struggled to stay upright and withdrew from the display.
“In your arrogance you would seek to become equals with your Creator?” the Almighty thundered, turning the thickening mass of clouds black with a sickly sheen. Lightning shot out and coursed through the column with blinding effect. “Now and henceforth I forbid you from eating from the Tree of Life!” The mass of clouds and turmoil within grew larger with the Creator’s every statement. “I banish you from the Garden of Eden, and cursed be the ground because of you! In toil shall you eat its yield for all the days of your life! Thorns and thistles shall it bring forth, and by the sweat of your brow shall you get bread to eat—” a slight pang of despair crept into the Almighty’s rapturous tone, “until you return to the ground from which you were taken.”
Dark clouds enveloped Adam and Eve and the soil of the Garden beneath them disappeared. Their vision obscured, the pair felt as if they were flying at great speed through the sky. The journey lasted only a moment and, as the clouds dispersed, Adam and Eve found themselves in a desolate valley flanked by two rivers. They felt the presence of the Almighty diminish and then leave. They were all alone.
Adam and Eve dropped to their knees and surveyed their surroundings. The color of the sky was the same, but the terrain and vegetation adorning the area was sparse. The Almighty had seen fit to deposit Adam and Eve onto the same world, but to an area that was bereft of the wonderment and plenty of the Garden of Eden. Because of their transgressions, they would have to fend for themselves in this strange new place.
Watching from a secluded perch, Lucifer sensed the enormous power emanating from the Garden. It flowed with great force from the Creator’s column of black air, sending animals fleeing from its path. As the energy reached the outermost boundaries of Eden, it began to peel the ground away from its bedrock and throw it high into the atmosphere along the Garden’s perimeter. The scale of power intensified as the Creator surgically removed the entire area from its native earth and lifted it above the surrounding landscape. The amount of material was massive and equaled many millions-of-tons of soil, plants, and rock. The Garden of Eden hovered several hundred feet over its former position like an earthen island in a sea of blue sky.
Lucifer watched the display in awe. On occasion, he had been lucky enough to bear witness to the Almighty’s immense power, but in those few opportunities, Lucifer had never seen anything such as the spectacle he now experienced. It was a symphony of power and balance stained by the feeling of despair and solitude.
Of particular interest to Lucifer was the way in which the Creator was destroying the Garden of Eden. Certainly, the Almighty had the power to obliterate the former human habitat in one swift stroke, but throughout his show of force, he had not attempted to destroy or harm either of the Two Trees or the Garden’s immense variety of plant life. The entire area was the most influential factor in the humans’ current predicament, yet the Creator chose to spare it from an exacting and absolute destruction. Not only was the Garden and its contents to be spared, but it seemed as if the Almighty meant to secret it away to some other place entirely.
Why would the Creator want to go through the tedious work of relocating the Garden of Eden and the Two Trees instead of simply destroying them? Lucifer did not need to ruminate on the problem as the show of force before him added credence to his theories. The Garden of Eden and the Two Trees must be special to the needs of the humans.
The words of the Creator further aided Lucifer in piecing the puzzle together. One particular phrase rose to the top: …until you return to the ground from which you were taken. This statement by the Almighty was strange and out of place for his generally stoic demeanor. The Creator seldom spoke and when he did, his words were significant. Lucifer knew that to cast the Almighty’s words as superfluous or unintentional was an exercise in extreme ignorance. Slowly, Lucifer realized what was missing from the puzzle of humanity.
Adam and Eve were nephesh. They not only existed as flesh and blood, but also in spirit. They were imbued with a soul that would allow them to live forever—beyond their earthly and mortal demise. Had the two stayed within the decree of the Creator and ate only from the Tree of Life, their earthly bodies would have been spared the fear of death. As their new predicament came to light, the humans and their progeny would forevermore be in perilous danger—stalked by death, until humanity itself was no more.
The Almighty formed the Garden of Eden to house the nephesh and the Two Trees to protect them. With the Creator’s covenant broken, there was no place for humanity’s souls to go after death. To save them, the Almighty needed to create a realm outside the physical world and sequester the Garden within so the nephesh could find their way home after they died. The Garden of Eden and the Two Trees were the key, and without them, humanity’s souls would be lost forever.
The buildup of the Creator’s power vibrated the surrounding atmosphere, and streaks of red and orange lightning lashed out from the column of air as it began to envelop the floating island. Dark clouds poured off the hovering mass like waterfalls cascading through a canyon. With every deafening blast, large clumps of earth rained to the ground below.
Lucifer sensed his time running out. The Almighty would be at his weakest soon after the creation of the new realm to house the Garden. Lucifer and his followers would need to act quickly to catch the Almighty off guard, but the Garden’s purpose could not be overlooked. By disrupting the Creator’s plan and seizing the Garden of Eden, Lucifer may yet add to his position in negotiations over the fate of the unwanted nephesh.
Lucifer called out, “Asmodeus, Sitri.”
The two angels manifested from thin air in front of Lucifer and bowed in reverence.
“It has begun,” Lucifer said. “His hold has been released. Direct the Garden to the world I created—we must disrupt him at all costs.”
Asmodeus and Sitri nodded their acceptance of Lucifer’s charge and flew off to the quaking, power-enveloped Garden of Eden.
Lucifer produced a twisted ram’s horn from his robes and raised it to his lips. He took a deep breath and blew into the gilded mouthpiece. The horn trumpeted a sweet and longing sound that rose into the air and scattered to the riotous winds. He waited for a response, but none came. Lucifer pressed his mouth against the horn and once again, blew with all his might. The horn produced a high-pitched sound that pierced the turbulence swirling about the Garden.
From all points of the compass, angels began to appear in the sky. They gleamed in every shade of white and formed waves so vast they appeared as a tsunami of clouds backlit by the blue sky. The angels turned their attention to the Creator’s storm and flew headlong into it.
The onslaught took the Almighty by surprise. The Creator had no choice but to rush the completion of the Garden’s separation and use his power to hurl it through time and space toward its final destination. As the Garden of Eden left the confines of his influence, the Almighty witnessed the entry of two of Lucifer’s most trusted lieutenants. His intent to move humanity’s last refuge to a realm apart from the corporeal bonds of Creation was in jeopardy. “Uriel,” the Creator uttered into his self-derived maelstrom.
Uriel appeared within moments, his breastplate armor gleaming in the daylight. The angel bowed and took a position slightly above the Creator’s column of air, the soft beat of his wings keeping him stationary. Uriel assessed the impending attack and his muscular frame tightened in ready defense of the Almighty. He pulled a broadsword from its sheath and the weapon ignited into flame.
“Go!” the Almighty bellowed into the direction of the fading Garden of Eden.
Uriel offered a look of confusion to the Creator.
“Uphold your vow and keep the Garden free of treachery!”
Uriel said nothing. He simply nodded the acknowledgement of his given task and powered his wings forward. He dove through the Almighty’s turbulence, chasing after the receding Garden of Eden and vanished with it into the distance.
With the Almighty’s attention focused elsewhere, Lucifer pounced on the opportunity and charged into the fray. His first task was organizing his followers to disrupt the Creator at every level. He barked out orders to the angels, and thousands upon thousands of them converged on the swirling mass of black clouds. They struck at the Creator from every conceivable angle and swarmed him like a hive of angry bees. The angels harried him with powerful attacks that forced the Almighty to single out and expend energy defending against each one individually.
The Creator’s atmospheric display grew as it lashed out against the rebellious angels. Bright, multicolored lightning and pure spheres of energy pummeled the instigators, causing distortions in the three-dimensional space around them. Angels caught in the surges of power were badly damaged and sought refuge at the rear of their formation. Others used their aerobatic skills to avoid the Creator’s counterattacks and continued to press their advance.
Even with a multitude of angels by his side, Lucifer knew they would surely lose the fight. Their only hope was to force the Almighty closer to the planet Lucifer created. Once there, Lucifer could use its vast influence to disrupt the Creator, allowing negotiations to begin on even terms.
Lucifer took a deep breath and conjured his own power. Brilliant, luminous energy poured forth from his body like a river, filling the sky around him. Lucifer swept his arms through the velvety white aura and wasted little effort in beginning the arduous task of changing the surrounding environment for the dimensional crossing to his world.
Through the clamor, the Almighty sensed an immense force bending the fabric of Creation. He knew right away the only other entity capable of that kind of might was Lucifer. The Almighty searched the skies, but the rabble of angels intensified their attack, blocking his vision. His anger grew exponentially and the Creator’s column of thunderous clouds exploded outward with such force that it sent the rebellious angels reeling. During the brief respite, he turned his attention away from the battle and sought out the location of the disturbance. The persistent and regular buildup of energy was coming from below him, but he could not see Lucifer through the mass of angels regrouping for another assault. The Creator had no time to react as the winged aggressors renewed their offensive, forcing him once again to counter their onslaughts.
Lucifer worked as quickly as he dared. He concentrated his power on an infinitesimally small point in the space directly below the Creator. The point grew, stretching and morphing into a two-dimensional disk whose diameter dwarfed that of the ongoing hostilities. A dense black star field emerged within the flat plain and flashed through a sequence of muddy gray hues that eventually swirled into a stable view of the flaxen-stained surface of Lucifer’s heat-baked world.
From the depths of his being, Lucifer directed all his energy toward the two-dimensional edges of the spatial rift. The force penetrated and surrounded the circular edges of the disc. He strained under the effort as he turned the two-dimensional portal into a three-dimensional sphere. The displacement of Creation encompassed the Almighty and all the angelic combatants. From inside the sphere, Lucifer folded space and time again until the entire group stood on the edge between known Creation and his world. With the trap set, he raised his horn and blew a long, rolling note.
Lucifer joined the angels as they intensified their destructive firepower upon their Creator. They pushed the Almighty’s raging tempest toward the sun-drenched world to a position just shy of the o
uter boundary of Creation.
The Creator’s dark clouds whipped and frothed as he fought back. Lightning, the color of fire, shot out at his attackers, forcing large groups of angels to retreat and regroup. Behind him, the Almighty felt the pull of the strange world. Foreign and maligned to Creation, it drained his power away. His fury rose to dizzying heights, but he refused to let his rage muddle his senses. The Creator knew the source of his betrayal and called out to the leader of the rabble, “You dare challenge me, Lucifer?”
Lucifer held up a hand to quell his followers’ assault and advanced gracefully through the crowd. His platinum-blond hair mussed with each beat of his wings as he emerged from the assemblage and positioned himself in front of his minions. Lucifer bowed deeply, showing a sincere reverence toward his Creator. “I do not seek open conflict; rather, I wish only to discuss the ultimate disposition of the humans.”
As if on cue, the angels spread out, hovering along the boundary line between Creation and Lucifer’s strange world like a wall. They did this to prevent the Almighty from striking an all-powerful final blow.
With a melancholy tone, Lucifer continued, “You gave us life—all of us, to bask in your glory and to wonder at your Creation, and for that we are eternally grateful.” He paused and looked squarely at the Almighty’s whirling tempest, “But to supplant us with this mortal combination of flesh and blood is intolerable.”
“Intolerable?” the Almighty thundered, his column of gases expanding to a greater height than ever before. “I am your maker. I created you and your brethren from the vacuum of nothingness! You defy my will and risk my wrath!”
Garden of Salt and Stone Page 6
