(Tell me a story, she said. Or rather, her words appeared upon his screen.

What kind of story ? He typed in reply.

Anything. She paused. Tell me a love story.

He nodded, though of course she could not see, and he began;

Once upon a time, in a land far far away…)

Someone was born.

I never really had a chance you see.

Like everything He does, Father cheated with me. An honest fair chance, why is that too much to ask ?

I imagine Him as He crafted me from dust. When He was done, my inanimate earthen shell lying before Him, He would look upon my body, and He would see that it was good.

I imagine him leaning forward, close to my stone face. He would wave the crux ansata before me, then lean in even closer, and let out one long breath into me, almost a sigh. His breath would move, like misty tendrils, curling into my nostrils, into my ears and eyes, into my mouth, becoming my first breath.

I imagine dust turn to flesh, mist into blood.

I remember when I opened my eyes, and saw for the first time. He was looking at me. And how bright He looked, and how proud of His creation.

Let’s call this newborn baby boy, Adam.

He never knew his mother, and he travelled with his father, who was away on business. He grew up to be a little child, in awe of his father, like children always are. He thought his father knew everything, to be all-powerful.

One day Dad brought the little boy home, at last. Adam was very excited, to see his brothers and sisters, and he was a little afraid, since they were all bigger than he was. He reach out and held his Dad’s hand, finding reassurance there, as he knew he would. And Dad said to his siblings, “This is Adam, your new brother, and he is my favourite son. I want each of you to give him your favourite toy, because you love him as I do.”

Next thing I knew, He had summoned all the angels, in conclave before the throne. He was One, back then, long before He had split Himself into Three. On the vast emptiness before the Throne, the tall spires of the Silver City surrounding us in place of a horizon, every angel gathered, rank upon rank of the Heavenly Host.

I had been sprung full swing into existence, with no memories what-SO-ever, and now here I was, presented before every damn’d (okay, not yet damn’d, but soon enough) angel. My so-called siblings were reflecting His glow like so many spotlights shining straight at my face.

Now, how’s that for a first memory ?

The children all walked forward, and put their toys before their father. Like Adam, they believed their father could speak no wrong, and if he said they loved their new brother as he did, well, then surely they did. Adam himself was sucking a thumb, holding on to Dad’s firm hand.

Of course, some of them were unhappy. And the older ones most of all, having that teenage rebelliousness I’m sure you know so well. And the eldest, who was the last to step forward, said, “Dad, I’m not going to give him anything. Look at him, he’s just a little kid. What’s he going to do with my pitchfork ?”

(Pitchfork ? She interrupted him.

Pitchfork.

Who the hell has a pitchfork for a favourite toy ?

Exactly. Do you want to listen to the story, or don’t you ?

*pout* Don’t stop.)

It wasn’t as if Our Father didn’t know that Sammael would not bow before me. I’m sure the Old Goat even knew why, we’ve been debating it ever since, whether it was Sam’s pride or love or respect for the Old Man. Maybe she just didn’t like being replaced as favourite child.

Sam didn’t say a word, just spread her wings and flew off, a Seraph in all her glory. No one did a thing, except for Michael. Michael actually looked up, a Military man through and through, you could see he wanted to act. He wouldn’t do anything without Father’s word, of course, and Father wasn’t looking at Mike.

The place was silence, the endless singing stopped, just like that.

An eternity passed, almost three seconds.

Together, dozens of angels broke rank, spread their wings, and took flight. None of them looked once at Father. Most of them reserved their last, lingering, looks, for me.

A moment before impossible, now the silence became deeper. As if just now was merely the absence of sound, and this was what silence really didn’t sound like. The warmth of His Light turned chill, like the unheating sun of a winter’s day. But He didn’t say a thing, He didn’t strike Sam down, didn’t order Mike to bring the traitors back. He just watched.

The eldest child stomped off, and some of the other children followed her.

Their father didn’t shout at them, just watched as they left. The kids lost some of their faith then, as if Dad wasn’t all-powerful, as if sometimes, just maybe sometimes, Dad couldn’t do a thing.

Adam knew something was wrong, he was too young to know what, though. But the laughter had stopped, and he held on tighter to Dad’s hand. He was picked up, and he hugged his father as tight as he could, and they left.

He was brought to a boarding school. A good school, respectable, with a good reputation for bringing up men from boys, giving them honour and whatnot. Even though it was mid-term, his father knew how to rub people the right way, and Adam was accepted.

Of course, Adam cried and cried, and clung on to his father’s leg, not letting go. He screamed and wailed. But his father left anyway.

And though Adam didn’t know it, their home had changed with his coming, the kids were more rebellious, and the eldest had continued running the household, even though Dad had returned. She totally ignored him when he was around, and, worse, some of the other kids were following her example.

Father then picked me up in one hand, and with the other he planted a garden, in the east, upon the earth where I was made.

He placed me in this garden, and told me; “Of every tree of the Garden thou mayest freely eat, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.”

And then He left.

It was dark, very very dark. The moon and stars were in their place, hung like lamps across the sky. It was bright enough to see that the Garden was beautiful, each tree within in bloom and bearing fruit. Yet it was dark, the light seemed harsh and cold. I had never before known Night, and it frightened me.

How I longed for the Light of Heaven, longed for the Light of Our Father.

It was very very dark. And very very cold.

Adam was lonely, and he made no friends. Maybe he was afraid that they would reject him as his siblings did. None of the teachers could pass for Dad, however hard they tried to reach out to him.

For the first time, Adam was alone.

He was afraid, but he survived. His heart turned cold, but he survived.

And he grew up, and outgrew the school.

And on the day he graduated, Dad came to pick him up.

For a while it became like it was before, and he followed his father upon his travels. When it was time to go to a new school, Dad said to him; “Adam, it is not good that you should be alone.”

Adam nodded in understanding. His father was going to leave him again, he knew that with cold certainty. In spite of that, he decided to change, no more shall anyone complain about him to his father.

I remember the first dawn I saw in Eden.

The sun’s rays crept brilliantly across the leaves, lighting the clouds in more colours than I have ever seen before. The rays of that first dawn crept slowly across the earth, turning dew into sparkling jewels, changing the sombre empty silence of the night before into peaceful solitude. In seeing the dawn, I knew what beauty was.

Oh ? The Silver City is beautiful, of course. But what do you really expect of Heaven ? The Eternal City is unchanging, streets upon streets of silver, gold and white, all you hear are the ceaseless hymns to Our Father’s glory.

I ate of the fruit, as I was told to do, and shied away from the Tree of Knowledge. I swam in the river, felt the rough bark of the trees beneath my touch. I felt the earth between my fingers, that this is the dust from which I was made. I watched as a cloud left my palm when I blew upon it. How marvellous! I thought.

Then Father returned.

I was filled with joy at seeing Him again. But the joy was tainted now, because I knew He would leave, and I think He sensed that, my fear of loneliness.

And out of the earth came forth all manner of birds and beasts. And God told me to name them, and so I did. Most of them I have really ridiculous names, so its fortunate none of my names are still in use. But in spite of the company these animals were meant to be, I still knew he would leave, and I still knew I would be alone. Surrounded by beauty, but still alone.

Adam did well in the new school. He still didn’t have any real friends, always listening to others, he never talked about himself, that same fear of rejection always kept him in check.

He chaired this society and headed that club, excelled at sports, aced his schoolwork.

He was the centre of life, a leader of men.

And he was still alone.

Then God created Lilith.

That’s a story all to itself, and one I don’t really care to talk about.

But I will tell you about the Serpent.

The Serpent was the innocent one, of course, typical of Father to kill the messenger. From the most exalted and beautiful to the most abhorred and ugliest, God loves His creations indeed.

And the Serpent was beautiful, truly a sight to behold. It would fly through the air upon wings the colours of the rainbow, though we didn’t have rainbows then. It would twirl in the air, swimming and spinning, its sinuous body the perfection of grace.

And its voice, melodious and enchanting, wise with understanding.

Sam couldn’t have chosen a better host.

Enter Lee.

They got together, of course. The perfect couple.

Adam fell in love like one never before; and made all the mistakes thereof.

And so she left him.

“If you had told me this before it would have destroyed me.”

“Think of my words, sweet sister, you know I cannot lie to you. When at last you are free, you know where to find me; the road is paved with good intentions.”

(And so she left him ? That’s your idea of a Love Story ?

Can’t you listen without interrupting ? Do *you* want to tell the story ?

*small voice* I’m sorry.

When Lee left him…)

Adam learned something about the nature of relationships. He realised that he had been himself, throughout, he thought about her, and missed her, and loved her, true, but he never lost himself inside her. He realised that a relationship is not two people being together, it is two people being one.

He realised how difficult that was, and how dangerous it could be. And he learned to be cautious with his heart.

And he learned also, that he had become a better person for having known her, that she had shaped his life by letting him see himself through her eyes. That gave their time together meaning, and that was all that he had left.

Some relationships are parasitic, with one, even both, taking and taking and never giving back. Others are symbiotic, with each taking and giving, in a balanced sort of way. A rare few are synergistic, with both taking and giving, and yet with more to give then they ever need to take. It is all in what each of them want, and what they are willing to give. Sometimes more is received than is given. Sometimes a giving will cost so much, that it can never be appreciated enough.

If you choose to look in this particular way, Lilith and I had a parasitic relationship; we each gave, and we each took, but what we gave never managed to replace what we took, until we were both empty.

Adam went on to a great career, rising like a star, until he became the youngest man to become President of the Free World.

He never got married, and he never fell in love again. Until he met Eve.

God must have sent her, Adam thought. Look at her as she moves, wearing a black dress. She radiates, shining as bright as a new day. She is sophistication and style. Sensuality, sexuality and the confidence to do it right. She is grace, and watch how eyes follow her, how they wish that they knew her, and how they want her, how I want her. She is the princess of the modern night; elegant and careless. She must be an angel.

When he found out her name, he thought wryly how the media will scream, Adam and Eve indeed! But then, maybe God did send her, maybe she was meant for him.

When they got married; the headlines echoed the words in the heart of every citizen; “A Marriage Made in Heaven.”

And that it was.

I could hear my heart pounding in my chest as I reached out to pluck the fruit.

Eve was standing next to me, nervous. Her eyes were fixed on me, maybe she wanted me to bail out. I could tell she was unsure, however certain she was before now. She was also aroused as hell, the scent of her reached me, and I half wanted to call it off, just so we could screw.

My hand connected and I remember how smooth it felt, firm, much like an apple. It came free without protest.

It weighed heavy in my hand, it’s golden surface shining in the predawn light. The sweat from my palms did not mar its surface. I looked at Eve, her eyes were pleading.

I brought it up to my open mouth, and I bit into it.

The world blanked out before me, images flooded my mind. In a daze I looked up and saw the sky painted red, I saw angels falling like a meteor shower, crashing through the quaking earth. I remember reeling, a hand brushing against the Tree, hitting the ground hard. I saw Heaven at War, angels tearing at each other, with flaming swords, with their bare hands, digging at eyes, mutilating feathered wings.

And I Knew. I knew I had caused all this, I knew this to be Sammael’s revenge, and the revenge of every angel cast out in exile. And I knew that my love for Eve was impure; heard my sin ringing in my ears, high pitched and throbbing. My love was impure because I loved her more than I loved God. I knew that my lust was wrong, that our nakedness was indecency.

“Enough.” Father said, and everything subsided, leaving me drained and tired, my head hurting with the mother of all hangovers. My mouth was dry, I swallowed, and I could feel the piece of the fruit lodged in my throat. The sun seemed too bright in the sky, hours had passed.

I could feel Father’s anger in His cold Light. I was still in shock as He meted out His punishments, lay His curses, and cast us out of Eden forever.

They were talking about rewriting the law to allow Adam to remain in office pass his tenure when the Scandal happened.

No one knew what the exact details of the Scandal was, of course, the new privacy laws protected even the President, especially the President. They whispered that he had pushed those laws through to protect himself, knowing that the Scandal would have happened sooner or later.

He resigned gracefully, and left public life with his wife to live in a different country.

The Vice-President, Moor N. Starr, went on to a long and wonderful career, holding the office till he died in bed at a ripe old age. President Starr led the Free World to new heights of technology and patriotism, starting by declaring War, of course. The citizens longed for the peaceful and loving days of Adam’s reign, but times have never been better, and is it not natural to long for the past ?

She would never tell me what Sam said to her, and choose to blame herself for everything that happened.

I never blamed her, though. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sacrificed everything for her. I know that she never did mean to hurt me, and I feel so sorry for hurting her after. She was simply herself, foolish and young and sweet, given too easily to her passions. Strong-willed and too firm in her self-righteousness.

She even blamed herself for what Cain did. Even our beloved daughters could not talk her out of her guilt. Where mothers find joy in their children, Eve found only sorrow in ours. We named our eldest daughter Luluwa, beautiful, because Eve thought her child was more beautiful than she was. I never thought so.

If only she loved me as I loved her, maybe then, losing everything would have been worth it.

But I don’t blame her. I just wish I had a chance.

(And that’s it ? They moved away and lived happily ever after ?

They *didn’t* live happily ever after.

Then what’s the point ? What’s the moral of the story ?

I promised you a story, not a parable. The point is there is no point. That sometimes, things beyond our control will just come out and fuck us up, in the most ironical way possible. Call it God or Circumstance. Bad things just happen to good people. Fatalism.

You’re so depressing. I’ve got to go sleep, it’s already two.

I prefer the term cynical. Goodnight Sweet Princess, may flights of angels guard thy rest.

You too, Storyteller. GoodBye.)

He knew the way back, he had always known, nine hundred and thirty years could not diminish his most precious memory; Home.

He did not look twice at the figure that stood by the side of the path, his eyes were fixed, always, at the far end of the road. The figure, a she, stepped into place behind him, matching his pace, always a step behind.

He was obviously old, very much so. He took his steps with the aid of a walking stick, a gnarled staff slightly taller than him. He was dressed in robes, and his feet were bare. Hunching slightly, he took step after relentless step. He was going home for the last time.

The landscape around them seemed to change without pattern, they walked between mountain passes, through great and silent forests, by rushing rivers and bubbling streams. They were no birds in the sky, nor any beast of the earth. He did not stop to rest, did not drink from the waters. His eyes never strayed from their path.

As they crested the top of a hill, he stopped. Then, dropping his staff, ran forward toward the gate at the end of the path.

An angel blocked the old man’s passage, holding a flaming sword in one hand, point downward, to the earth. He showed no sign of emotion as he said;

“You are forbidden entry.”

The old man’s companion replied for him, in a voice like snow; “Cherub, you will let him pass.”

Their eyes met, but no emotion showed on either of their faces. They stood about the same height, both with pale skin, and faces only described as beautiful. They each had feathered wings, growing from their backs, raising above their heads, reaching almost to the earth. The angel’s wings were white as the sky above, seeming to reflect its light into aurorean rainbows of colour around it. Her wings were black as night.

“You are forbidden entry.” The guardian repeated.

She smiled, “Our Father never takes His word back, but it is His Will we are following, may He have Mercy on your soul.”

The angel nodded once, solemnly, “Yes. For He is Merciful.” He gestured with his free hand at the old man, who stood in front of her upon the verge of collapse, staring forlornly past the gates, “He has been forgiven ?”

She nodded her reply, “If he were not, I would not be here. And you would remain here as you have been ordered, to stand guard forever.”

Even as she spoke, she took hold of him beneath his arms, with her firm hands, moist with blood.

He saw their shadow before him, her wings seemingly his. Then those wings spread, seeming to grow, till they reached a magnificent span.

He felt uncertain.

Her hands tensed painfully tight into his arms, he stumbled as she bent her knees, then she flapped her wings once, and leapt.

He felt his panic raise in an irresistible storm, felt the pit of his stomach knot tightly together, and left that knot behind as they were lifted off the ground. As if it was not his feet that was connected to the earth, but the part of him that hungers. As if he was tied truly to the dust from which he was made.

Her wings flapped again, then closed about them as they rose like a dark comet.

The guardian angel, in his turn, with a hand at his side, the other holding forth his flaming blade, did the same.

High in the air, they started to drop, and he closed his eyes, felt his nails digging into his palms. They fell past the ascending angel, and she spread her wings again, soaring in a wide circle. She released her passenger gently before the gate, then took to the air again.

He did not even look up as he pushed the gate open with one withered hand.

He was home at last.

She found him sitting upon a rock by a dry pond, its dusty bowl gray and discoloured. He turned to look at her as she stopped before him, and held out his staff with both hands. She was covered in blood, little whiteness that could have been feathers clinging to her sticky nakedness.

He looked forward again, at the parched earth, at the cracked stones lying about, at the skeletal shells of old trees long dead. At dust and dry leaves.

He returned his gaze to her, still holding the staff before him. She set it down upon the ground near his feet, but he made no move towards it. She stepped backwards, coming to stand beneath the shadow of a dead tree.

Tears started to form in his eyes. Collecting, pooling, running slowly down his cheeks.

She did not move from whence she stood, red and white in a landscape of gray.

Time passed and he stood up, making his way to stand beneath a great tree, as dead as everything around it. He stopped, bend down to pick something from the barren earth, and lay down before the tree, within the shadow of its twisted branches.

She watched as he breathed his last, a gentle sigh, mist floating out from his parted lips.

With her bloodied hands, she dug him a grave. Soundlessly, carefully, she lay his body down. She looked again at what he had found, then picked it up from where it had fallen from his limp hand. She placed it on his chest, then covered him with the dry earth. His tears were still wet, marking their passage across his cheeks.

She walked away.

At the gate, she turned. And where he lay, buried in the shadow of the great tree, a young sapling stood, fresh and green.

Then she left, closing the gates behind her.

The identity of Sammael as Lucifer is questionable on all accounts.

The bowing scene is from the Quran;

The following lines name Shaitan as the tempter in the Garden, so it is again questionable whether Iblis is Shaitan, or whether they are two seperate entities.

The creation of Lilith and Adam’s second wife is supposedly in the Jewish Talmut, of which I cannot find a copy, hence the lack of detail. The story does appear in an issue of Sandman.

Nothing on what the Serpent looked like before God’s punishment.

One line of modern thought places Eden in Mesopotamia. Descriptions of the Garden can be found in the Bible, Quran and the First Book of Adam and Eve.

The First and Second Book of Adam and Eve, of the Forgotten Books of Eden, detail the happenings after the exile. The etext can be found at Project Gutenburg.

I copied the sensations of flight from a dream of flying I had.

Everything else is either things I know but cannot source, or things I made up.