Book 4

Oh, I wish I’d heard that warning voice - the one the guy who saw the Apocalypse heard echoing through Heaven. It was a cry! Then, after the Dragon got totally beat the first time, he came roaring back, fueled by rage, to get revenge on humans. Seriously, woe to everyone living on Earth!

If only our first parents had been warned about their secret enemy, they might have escaped - maybe even dodged his deadly trap.

Now, Satan, totally fired up, descended. He’s the tempter, not just the accuser, and he’s out for blood, wanting to punish innocent, fragile humans for his loss in that first battle and his flight to Hell.

But he’s not celebrating his escape, not even bragging, though he’s feeling pretty fearless from afar.

He starts his terrible plan, and it's boiling inside him, all chaotic and messed up. It bounces back on him like a broken engine. Horror and doubt tear through his thoughts, and he stirs up the Hell within.

Because he brings Hell with him, and he’s trapped in it, no more able to escape than he is to escape himself.

Suddenly, conscience wakes up - it had been sleeping, you know? It brings back the bitter memories of what he was, what he is, and what he will be - it’s gonna be worse, so much worse. Sometimes he looks towards Eden, which looks pretty sweet in his view, and his expression is just...sad.

Other times he stares up at Heaven and the blazing sun, which is high up in the sky.

Then, he starts sighing, lost in thought:

"You - the one with the incredible glory, looking down from your perfect kingdom like the God of this new world! At your sight, all the stars hide their light. I call out to you, but not with a friendly voice. I’m gonna drop your name - Sun! - to tell you how much I hate your beams."

They remind me of how far I’m fallen, how glorious I once was, way above your sphere. But pride and even worse ambition threw me down, fighting against Heaven’s King. Why? He didn’t deserve that from me - he created me into what I was, and he never criticized my good work.

His service wasn't hard at all. What could be less than to give him praise, the easiest reward, and thank him properly? But all his goodness turned sour in me, and it bred malice.

I got so high up that I defied authority, thinking one step higher would pay off the endless debt of gratitude I still owed. I kept forgetting what I still received from him, and I didn't understand that a grateful mind doesn't just owe - it pays, all at once, indebted and free.

What a burden it was! Oh, if his powerful destiny had made me a lesser angel, I would have been happy. No boundless hope would have raised ambition! But why not some other power, as great, who might have aspired, and drawn me, even though I’m small, to his side?

But other powers as great didn’t fall - they stand strong, both from within and without, armed against every temptation. Did you have the same free will and power to stand? You did. So who or what do you have to blame, except for Heaven’s free love, which deals equally to all?

Cursed be his love, since it deals eternal woe to me, whether I love or hate. No, curse you - because against his will, you freely chose what you now so justly regret.

"Me, miserable! Where can I run from infinite wrath and infinite despair?"

Which way I turn is hell. I am hell. And even down here, in the lowest pit, a deeper darkness threatens to swallow me whole - a darkness that makes the hell I’d already suffered feel like paradise. Seriously, is there any chance for forgiveness? Any chance to start over? Nope.

Only submission will do. But "no way," my pride screams. I’m not about to show weakness in front of the spirits I manipulated - the ones I tricked with empty promises and bragging about how I could beat anyone. Ugh.

They have no clue how much this boast is costing me, how much pain I'm hiding while they worship me on my throne in hell.

I sit here, wearing a crown and holding a scepter, but I’m just sinking deeper and deeper, the only thing I’m supreme in is misery. That's what ambition gets you, right? But, like, what if I could repent? What if I somehow got my old status back?

I’d be right back to thinking big, undoing all my fake submission. Ease would instantly reject the vows I made in agony. True peace can't grow where hate has cut so deep - it would just lead to an even worse fall, costing me twice as much.

My Punisher knows this. He's as far from granting me peace as I am from begging for it. So, all hope is gone. Instead, we’d be outcasts, exiled. And for him, that means a whole new playground: mankind. And this world. So, bye-bye, hope! Bye-bye, fear! Forget about remorse!

All that’s good is lost to me. Evil, at least, is something I can work with. At least I hold a divided empire with Heaven’s King. Maybe I’ll even reign more than half the time. As humans will soon find out, and as this new world will know.

As he spoke, each emotion drained his face - three times over. Pale, angry, envious, despairing. It ruined his borrowed look, revealing him as a fraud, if anyone had bothered to look. Heavenly minds don’t get messed up like that.

He realized this quickly, smoothing out his expression with a practiced calm - the ultimate manipulator, hiding deep malice and simmering revenge.

But he hadn’t perfected his deception enough to fool Uriel, whose eye followed him down the path, spotting him on the Assyrian mountain - disfigured beyond what could happen to a happy spirit. His fierce gestures and crazy behavior - alone, as he thought, unseen - were all noted.

He continued on, reaching the border of Eden. Paradise, so delicious, was now closer, crowning the landscape with its green enclosure - like a grassy hill on the edge of a wild, hairy wilderness. Thickets grew everywhere, access denied.

Towering above, impenetrable shade stretched up, cedar, pine, fir, and branching palm trees forming a gorgeous, wooded theater. Yet, even higher than their tops, the verdurous wall of Paradise rose - giving our first father a broad view of his neighboring underworld.

And above that wall, a circling row of the most beautiful trees, laden with the fairest fruit, appeared - blossoms and fruit at once, a golden hue, with bright, painted colors mixed in.

The sun shone more brightly on them than on fair evening clouds or a humid rainbow, when God had showered the earth. They seemed so lovely...

A rush of fresh, clean air hit him, a welcome change. It filled his heart with a sudden burst of joy, chasing away any lingering sadness - except for the deep despair. Gentle breezes stirred, carrying sweet scents and whispering where they came from.

It was like when sailors, finally past the Cape of Hope and Mozambique, caught the spicy aroma of Araby on the wind. They’d slow their ships, smiling at the grateful smell the ocean offered.

So it was for the Fiend, who’s arrival was their doom. He was actually enjoying the scents, more than Asmodeus ever did with the fishy smell that had driven him from Tobit’s son’s bride, sending him, enraged, from Media to Egypt, where he was trapped.

Now, Satan journeyed on, slow and brooding, toward the ascent of that steep, wild hill. There was no easy path, the undergrowth so thick it was like one giant, tangled mess. He found only one gate, facing east.

He scoffed at it, leaping over the hill and the highest wall with a single bound, landing gracefully on his feet.

It was like a hungry wolf, scoping out a new place to hunt, easily jumping over the fence to sneak into a flock of sheep. Or like a thief, confident he could break into a rich person’s house, scaling the walls or popping through a window.

Satan, the first grand thief, slipped into God’s fold, just as corrupt followers would later infiltrate the church.

He flew upwards and settled on the tree of life, the tallest, most beautiful tree in the garden, like a cormorant on a branch. But he didn’t gain any real life. Instead, he plotted death for those who lived.

He didn't think about the power of the tree, but used it just for a view, regretting the missed opportunity for immortality.

How little we truly appreciate the good things we have, right? Only God knows their true value. We twist the best things into abuse, or use them for the lowest purposes.

From his perch, he gazed down at Paradise, a wonderland exposed to all human senses. It was like a whole world of riches, even more than that - a Heaven on Earth. This was God's garden, planted in the east of Eden.

Eden stretched eastward to the grand towers of Seleucia, built by Greek kings, or to Telassar, where the sons of Eden had lived long ago.

God had created this beautiful garden, causing the finest trees to grow from the fertile ground - trees that were a delight to see, smell, and taste. And towering above them all was the tree of life, blooming with fruit of pure gold.

Right beside it grew the tree of knowledge, offering a costly understanding gained through knowing evil.

Southward through Eden flowed a river, massive and powerful. It didn't change course, instead plunging beneath a rugged hill, swallowed by the earth. God had raised that mountain like a mold for his garden.

The rapid current, drawn up through porous earth with a thirsty pull, burst forth as a fresh fountain. Countless little streams watered the garden, eventually merging and cascading down the steep slope to meet the dark, hidden flood.

Now split into four main rivers, they flowed in diverse directions, wandering through many famous realms and lands - details we're skipping for now.

But let's talk about how, if anyone could describe it, they’d explain how those sapphire streams, rolling over shimmering pearl and sands of gold, twisted and turned under the hanging shadows. They poured out nectar, visiting every plant and feeding flowers worthy of Paradise.

These weren't carefully arranged in beds or knots; instead, Nature lavishly poured them out across hills, valleys, and plains.

Everywhere - where the morning sun first warmly touched the open fields, and where the unpierced shade darkened the noontide bowers - it was a happy, beautiful place. Groves of trees dripped with fragrant gums and balm.

Others bore fruit with golden rinds, hanging sweetly - like the Hesperian myths, if those were real, which they were, here only. And the taste? Delicious.

Between them stretched lawns and grazing flocks nibbling tender herbs. Or a palm-covered hillock. Or a flower-filled valley spreading its bounty. Flowers of every color, thornless roses everywhere.

On another side, shady grottoes and caves offered cool recesses. Grapevines draped them, sending out purple grapes and gently creeping luxuriously. Meanwhile, murmuring waters tumbled down the slopes, collecting in a lake.

The fringed bank, crowned with myrtle, held a crystal mirror reflecting the united streams.

The birds formed a choir. Gentle, springtime breezes carried the scent of fields and groves, tuning the trembling leaves. Universal Pan, linked with the Graces and the Hours in a joyful dance, led the eternal Spring.

It was fairer than Enna’s field, where Proserpine gathered flowers, and was herself taken by gloomy Dis - costing Ceres so much pain to search for her across the world. It was sweeter than Daphne’s grove by the Orontes, and the inspired Castalian spring.

It surpassed the Nyseian isle, encircled by the Triton river, where old Cham - whom Gentiles called Ammon and Libyan Jove - hid Amalthea and her florid son, Young Bacchus, from his stepmother Rhea’s eye.

It was more beautiful than where Abassin kings guarded their children on Mount Amara, though some believed that place to be the true Paradise under the Ethiopian line, enclosed by shining rock, a whole day’s journey high, but far away from this Assyrian garden.

Here, the Fiend saw everything - all delight, all kinds of living creatures - new to his sight, strange and wondrous. And there were two, far more noble in shape, standing tall, godlike in their posture, and clad in naked majesty, seeming lords of all.

They deserved to be. In their looks shone the image of their glorious Maker - truth, wisdom, and a severe but pure holiness (severe, but placed in true, filial freedom). This was the source of true authority in men.

Though not equal, their sexes were not equal either. He was formed for contemplation; she for valor. He was softness and sweet, irresistible grace. He was for God only; she for God in him. His fair, commanding face and sublime eyes declared absolute rule. His hyacinthine

A lock of hair fell across his forehead - manly, but not quite touching his broad shoulders. She wore her golden hair loose, a simple veil down to her slender waist. It tumbled in playful waves, like vines curling their tendrils.

It hinted at submission, but she held herself with gentle sway, offering herself, yet retaining a touch of pride, a sweet, hesitant desire.

And there was nothing to hide; no shame, no false modesty about their bodies. Nature’s work, beautiful and honest, hadnn't been corrupted by guilt. How had humanity become so obsessed with appearances, hiding the truth and stealing away the simple joy of innocence?

They walked naked, unafraid of God or the Angels. They felt no wrong in it. Hand in hand, they were the most beautiful couple ever to meet, bound together in love. Adam, the finest man ever born, and Eve, his most lovely daughter.

They settled beneath a shady spot by a clear, cool spring. They’d worked in their garden just enough to please the gentle breeze, making their rest even more relaxing, their appetites more eager. They ate the juicy nectarines, bending to scoop the sweet juice from the rinds as they thirsted.

There was tenderness, sweet smiles, and playful teasing - everything a happy couple should have, alone together.

All the animals of the earth played around them - wild creatures of every kind. The lion frolicked with a kid in his paw. Bears, tigers, leopards, and panthers gamboled before them. The enormous elephant, just to make them laugh, used all his strength, curling his trunk playfully.

Even the sly serpent, weaving a complex pattern with his tail, showed his deceit, unnoticed. Others lay on the grass, watching the animals graze, or simply dozed off. The sun was sinking towards the ocean, and the stars began to rise in the evening sky.

Satan, still staring, finally found his voice, filled with sorrow.

"Oh, Hell! What do my eyes behold with such grief?" he lamented. " Creatures of another kind have entered our paradise - earth-born, perhaps, not Spirits, yet far from the brightness of heavenly Spirits. I follow them with wonder."

"I could almost love them - they bear such a divine resemblance, such grace poured into their forms by the hand that created them."

"Alas, gentle pair," he continued, "you don't realize how close your change is. Soon, all these delights will vanish, delivering you to woe. The more joy you taste now, the more intense your suffering will be."

You are happy, but your happiness is insecure, poorly defended against a foe like me who has entered here. I mean you no harm. If anything, I pity you, even though I am unpitying.

"I seek an alliance with you, a friendship so close, so intertwined, that I must dwell with you, or you with me, from now on. Perhaps my home isn't far from here."

Like this perfect paradise, your mind; but accept what your Maker made - he gave it to me, and I freely give it to you. Hell will open wide, sending all its kings to entertain you two. There’s plenty of space, unlike these tiny limits, to welcome your many children.

If there's no better place, blame me - I’m forced into this revenge, not for him who wronged me, but for you. And even if your innocence melts my heart, public reason demands justice.

Honor and empire, enlarged by conquering this new world, force me to do what I’d otherwise abhor, even if it means eternal damnation.

So spoke the Fiend, justifying his evil deeds with the tyrant's excuse of necessity. Then, from his high perch on that towering tree, he descended among the playful animals, shifting his form as needed to get closer to his prey, unnoticed, to learn more by their words and actions.

He prowled around them like a lion, eyes blazing. Then, like a tiger who’s spotted two gentle fawns playing, he crouched low, rising and changing position often, choosing his ground, ready to pounce and grip them in his paws.

When Adam, the first man, turned to the first woman, Eve, drawn by her voice:

"Sole partner, and sole part of all these joys, dearer than everything; the Power that made us, and this vast world for us, must be infinitely good, and as generous and free as it is infinite."

It raised us from the dust, placed us here in all this happiness, for which we’re undeserving and can’t repay. It requires no service from us other than to keep this simple charge - to not taste the fruit of that one tree of knowledge, planted near the tree of life.

Life and death are so close, whatever death may be - some dreadful thing, no doubt. For you know God has declared it death to taste that tree. It's the only sign of our obedience left, among so many signs of power and dominion He’s given us over all creatures that inhabit Earth, air, and sea.

So let’s not complain about one easy prohibition, when we enjoy free rein over everything else and an unlimited choice of delights. Let’s ever praise Him and extol His bounty, following our delightful task - to prune these growing plants and tend these flowers.

"Even if it were toilsome, it would be sweet with you." To whom thus Eve replied:

"O, you for whom and from whom I was formed, flesh of your flesh, and without whom I’m nothing - my guide and head! What you’re saying is just and right. For we owe all praise to Him, and daily thanks - I especially, who enjoy so much more happiness, enjoying you, my equal."

You can’t find another like yourself, but I have you! I often remember that day when I first woke from sleep and found myself resting in the shade of flowers, wondering where and what I was, and how I’d gotten there.

"Not far from there, I heard a murmuring sound of water issuing from a cave and spreading into a still, liquid plain. It was pure as the expanse of Heaven. I went to it, with no experience, and laid myself down on the green bank to look into the clear, smooth lake, which seemed like another sky."

I crouched down, peering into the water. Suddenly, a shape appeared - a reflection, bending to look back at me. I jumped, and it mirrored my move. But curiosity pulled me back, and it returned the look, a feeling of understanding and love passing between us.

I’d been staring for so long, wishing for something I couldnn't name. Then, a voice echoed, "What you see, fair creature, is you. It came and went with you. But follow me, and I’ll show you a place untouched by shadow. You’ll embrace him - whose image you are - and be his forever."

"You’ll bear countless others, and become known as the Mother of humankind."

"What could I do but follow, led invisibly? Then I saw you. You were beautiful, so tall. But you seemed...less radiant, less captivating, less gentle than that perfect reflection. I turned away, and you cried out, "Return, fair Eve! Who do you flee? You are of him, his flesh, his bone.

"I lent you life from my side, closest to my heart - substantial life - to have you by my side, a solace, an individual, dear to me. Part of my soul, I seek you, and claim you as my other half."

Your hand gently took mine. I yielded. And from that moment, I saw how beauty can be surpassed by strength, and how wisdom is truly fair.

Our mother spoke, her eyes filled with love and surrender. She leaned towards our first father, half her breast exposed, hidden by the golden cascade of her hair. He smiled, delighted by her beauty and her submission, like Jupiter smiles upon Juno as he makes the clouds rain flowers.

He kissed her lips with pure affection.

The Devil turned away, consumed by envy, watching them with a spiteful glare, muttering to himself.

"A hateful sight! A tormenting sight! So these two, lost in each other’s arms, are the happier Eden, enjoying endless bliss. While I am banished to Hell, where there’s no joy, no love, just fierce desire - a constant torment. But I haven't forgotten what they said: It’s not all theirs."

"There’s a forbidden tree, the Tree of Knowledge. They're not allowed to taste it."

He sneered. "Knowledge forbidden? Suspicious, unreasonable! Why would their Lord envy them that? Is it a sin to know? Is it death? Do they only exist through ignorance? Is that their happy state, proof of their obedience and their faith? Oh, what a fragile foundation upon which to build their ruin!"

"I’ll stir their minds with more desire to know, to reject these envious commands, invented to keep them low, when knowledge could elevate them to the level of the Gods! Aspiring to be like them, they’ll taste the fruit, and then...what else could happen?"

He paused, then continued, "First, I must explore this garden, leaving no corner unsearched. Perhaps I’ll find a wandering spirit of Heaven, near a fountain or in the thick shade, and learn more."

He sighed, "Live while you can, happy pair. Enjoy these fleeting pleasures, for long woes are coming."

So saying, he turned, a seriously unimpressed vibe, but kept his eyes peeled, checking things out. He trekked through the woods, across the wasteland, over hills, over valleys - a full-on roam.

Meanwhile, way out there, where the sky meets the ocean and the sun dips below the horizon, the sun was setting. It cast its rays, like a spotlight, against the eastern gate of Paradise. It was a giant rock, pure white like alabaster, reaching up into the clouds.

You could see it from miles away, a single path winding up to a high entrance. The rest was just a sheer cliff face, impossible to climb.

Between those giant rocks, Gabriel sat. Chief of the angel army, waiting for nightfall. The young angels were playing hero games nearby, but close at hand was the celestial armoury: shields, helmets, and spears, shimmering with diamond fire and gold.

Then Uriel arrived, zipping through the evening sky on a beam of sunlight, fast as a shooting star. Like, when the leaves are falling and the air is filled with a crazy purple glow, and sailors are like, "Watch out for the wind!"

He started, in a major hurry. "Gabriel, you’re in charge of keeping watch, making sure nothing bad gets in or near this place. Today, around noon, a Spirit showed up in my area. He seemed super eager to learn more about God’s creations, especially humans - God’s latest masterpiece."

I told him everything I saw, how fast he was moving. But up in the mountains north of Eden, where he first landed, I could tell something was off. His vibe was totally not heavenly, clouded with some nasty emotions. I kept watching, but he disappeared in the shadows.

"I’m worried one of the banished crew has snuck out to stir up trouble. You need to find him."

The winged warrior replied, "No surprise your sight is so sharp, Uriel. You're up there in the sun's bright circle. No one gets past our guards unless they're known and welcomed from Heaven. And nothing’s come through since midday."

"If some other Spirit has jumped these earthly boundaries on purpose, it’s impossible to block him with a physical barrier. But if he's lurking around here, in whatever form, I’ll know by tomorrow morning."

So promised he, and Uriel went back to his post, riding that bright beam, now angling downward towards the setting sun, past the Azores. Whether the sun had sped across the sky or Earth had just zipped east, he didn't know. Either way, the clouds around him blazed with purple and gold.

Now, evening settled in, and twilight cloaked everything in grey. It was silent; the animals had gone to their grassy beds, and the birds to their nests. Everyone was asleep, except for the nightingale, who sang her love songs all night long. The silence was perfect.

The sky glowed with living sapphires. Hesperus, the brightest star, shone until the moon rose, a queen in cloudy majesty, revealing her radiant light, throwing her silver cloak over the darkness.

"Eve," Adam began, "my beautiful partner, it's late. Everything's settling in for the night. Let's get some rest too. God gave us work and rest, like day and night. This gentle sleep, pulling at our eyelids, tells us it's time."

He paused. "Unlike other creatures who just wander around all day, we have tasks for our bodies and minds. It shows how important we are, and how much Heaven cares about us. While animals just do their thing, God doesnn't really keep tabs."

"But tomorrow, before the sun even peeks over the horizon, we're back at it."

Adam sighed. "We need to fix those flower arbors and green walkways - they’re totally overgrown. It's giving major 'we need more hands' vibes. And look at all those blossoms and sticky sap everywhere! Seriously, it's a tripping hazard if we want to walk around comfortably."

Eve, looking radiant, replied, "My creator, my guide, whatever you say, I’m all in. It’s God’s plan. He’s your law, and you’re mine. Honestly, knowing nothing more is the best thing for a woman, and it’s how we show our appreciation."

She smiled. " Just talking to you makes me forget all about time, seasons, everything. Mornings are sweet - the birds are chirping, the sun's rising...it's a whole vibe."

Eve continued, "The earth smells amazing after a rain, and evenings are so peaceful. And then there's night - the moon, the stars...it’s stunning."

She lowered her voice. " But none of it is really sweet without you."

Adam looked at her thoughtfully. " Why do all these things shine, then? Who's even watching when everyone's asleep?"

Adam responded, "My daughter, Eve, you'd be surprised. These lights have a job to do. They circle the earth, giving light to lands yet to be discovered - preparing the way for new generations. They exist so total darkness doesn't return and snuff out life."

He gestured to the stars. "These soft lights not only brighten the world, but they also gently warm and nurture everything that grows, helping it reach its full potential when the sun's stronger rays come out."

Adam added, "Even though people aren't around to see it, it's not a waste. Don't think that Heaven would miss having an audience, or that God wouldn't get praise."

He paused, looking up at the sky.

"Millions of spiritual beings walk this earth, unseen, when we're awake and when we’re asleep. They constantly praise God’s creation, both day and night."

Adam continued, "How many times have we heard celestial voices echoing through the hills and forests at midnight? Sometimes alone, sometimes answering each other, singing praises to our great creator?"

He smiled softly. "Often, in groups, as they patrol the night, their heavenly music fills the air - harmonies joined in perfect number. Their songs divide the darkness and lift our thoughts to heaven."

Thus talking, hand in hand, alone they wandered to their perfect hideaway. It was a spot the sovereign Planter had chosen when he designed everything for humans to enjoy. Thick, woven shade from laurel and myrtle, and all the plants with sturdy, sweet-smelling leaves formed a roof.

Acanthus and every fragrant bush lined the green walls. Beautiful flowers - irises in every color, roses, and jessamine - raised their gorgeous heads between them, creating a mosaic. Violets, crocuses, and hyacinths embroidered the ground beneath, more vibrant than any precious stone.

No other creature dared enter - bird, beast, insect, or worm - they were all in awe of humans. In a deeper, more secluded bower, even Pan or Sylvanus wouldnn't have slept, or any nymph or Faunus.

Here, in a private nook filled with flowers, garlands, and sweet herbs, Eve first decorated her wedding bed. Heavenly voices sang a hymn the day the gentle Angel brought her to their father in naked beauty, more adorned, more lovely than Pandora.

Oh, and just like her, she ended up being a trap for humanity when Hermes brought her to the unwiser son of Japhet, avenging him who had stolen Jove’s fire.

Finally, they arrived at their shady lodge. Both stood, both turned, and under the open sky, they worshipped the God who made the sky, air, earth, and heaven - all that they could see: the moon’s brilliant glow and the starry expanse.

"You also made the night, all-powerful Creator, and you made the day," they said.

"We’ve finished our work, happy with our mutual help and love - the greatest joy you’re given. This amazing place is too big for just us, where your abundance goes unharvested."

"But you’ve promised a race will come from us to fill the earth, who will praise your endless goodness, when we’re awake and when we seek your gift of sleep."

They said this together, without any other rituals, just pure adoration - the kind God loves best. Then, they entered their inner bower and, without a fuss, they shed the troublesome disguises we wear.

They lay side by side, and I don't think Adam moved from his beautiful wife, nor did Eve refuse the mysterious rites of married love. No matter what hypocrites preach about purity and propriety, defaming what God declares pure and commands for some, leaving it free for all.

Our Maker tells us to multiply. Who tells us to abstain, except our Destroyer, the enemy of God and humanity? Hail, married love, mysterious law, the true source of human offspring, the only thing private in Paradise amidst all the shared things!

Through you, lustful desire was driven from humans to roam with the animal herds. Through you, reason, loyalty, justice, and purity were founded, and the bonds of father, son, and brother were first known.

I wouldn't dare write of sin or blame, or think that you’re unbefitting of this holiest place, a constant fountain of domestic bliss. Your bed is undefiled and pure, declared so by saints and patriarchs, present or past.

Here, Love uses his golden arrows, lights his steady lamp, and spreads his purple wings. He reigns and celebrates here - not in the bought smiles of harlots, loveless, joyless, and uncherished, or in casual encounters.

Nor in courtly romances, fleeting dances, or wanton masks, or midnight balls, or the lovesick serenades sung to a proud, indifferent beauty.

Nightingales sang them to sleep, a sweet lullaby. Roses drifted down, blanketing their naked skin as morning approached. Sleep well, blessed couple. Honestly, if you’re happy with what you have and don't need anything else, that's amazing.

Now, night had climbed halfway up the sky, this massive dome above us. From their ivory gates, the Cherubim - angel warriors - marched out, ready for their nightly watch. Gabriel, the top dog, turned to Uzziel, his second-in-command.

"Uzziel, split this crew in half. One group patrol the south, eyes peeled. The other, head north. We’re meeting west."

Like a flash of fire, they separated, some angling towards their shields, others towards their spears. Two strong, sly spirits stood nearby. Gabriel called them forward.

"Ithuriel and Zephon, move fast. Search every corner of this garden - no spot left unsearched. Especially where those two beautiful humans are sleeping, feeling totally safe."

"Tonight, as the sun went down, someone reported seeing a demon slinking this way - can you believe it? Escaped from Hell, probably on some shady mission. Find him, seize him, and bring him here."

With that, he led his shining army, blinding the moon. They headed straight for the bower, searching for their target. There he was - squatting like a toad, pressed against Eve’s ear. He was using his dark magic to mess with her thoughts, crafting illusions, planting dreams.

Or maybe he was poisoning her, tainting the pure essence of her being, stirring up discontent, fueling empty hopes and desires, inflating her ego with pride.

Suddenly, Ithuriel struck him with his spear. Truth can’t stand up to divine power - it bounces back, revealing the demon's true form. The two angels recoiled, shocked by the sudden appearance of the king of the underworld. But they weren’t afraid.

"Who are you, rebel spirit, escaping from Hell? And why are you hiding here, watching those who sleep?"

Satan sneered. "Seriously? You don’t recognize me? You used to be my peers, but now you can’t even reach the heights we once soared to. Not knowing me proves you’re the bottom of the barrel. Or, if you do know me, why bother with this pointless interrogation?"

Zephon retorted, matching his scorn.

"Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not the same, your light is gone. That glory left you when you turned away from goodness. Now you’re just a reflection of your sin, a dark and disgusting shadow."

"But you will answer for this. You’ll give account to the one who sent us, whose duty is to protect this place and keep these humans safe."

So spoke the Cherub, and his serious reprimand - a gorgeous, youthful beauty - added unstoppable grace. The Devil stood, stunned, and felt how intense goodness truly is. He saw Virtue’s form, so beautiful, and he ached over his loss.

Mostly, though, he noticed his own power seemed faded, but he wasn't backing down.

"If I have to fight," he said, "let it be against the best, the one who sent me, not the message. Or, all at once. More glory will be won that way, or less will be lost."

Zephon, bold, retorted, "Your fear will save us. Even the weakest can defeat you, you wicked one, and therefore, weak."

The Fiend didn’t reply, overwhelmed by rage. Like a proud steed with a bit in his mouth, he marched on, haughty and tense. Fighting or fleeing felt pointless; awe from above had quieted his heart, not fear.

They drew closer to the western edge, where the half-rounded guards finally met, standing together, ready for the next command. Then, their leader, Gabriel, called out from the front.

"Friends! I hear the sound of quick feet rushing this way. I glimpse Ithuriel and Zephon through the shadows. And with them comes a third, of regal bearing, but with faded splendor. His posture and fierce look suggest he’s the Prince of Hell, and he’s not likely to leave without a fight."

"Stand firm, because defiance glares from his eyes."

He’d barely finished when those two approached and quickly explained who they’d brought, where they’d found them, how busy they’d been, and what position they’d been in. Then, Gabriel spoke sternly.

"Why, Satan, have you broken the rules set for your sins and disturbed the duty of others? They don’t approve of transgressing by your example, but they have the power and right to question your bold entrance here."

"It seems you’re here to violate sleep and the blissful lives of those God has planted here!"

Satan responded with a contemptuous look.

"Gabriel? In Heaven, you were respected for your wisdom, and I considered you wise. But this question makes me doubt. Is there anyone who loves pain? Who wouldn’t break free from Hell, even if doomed to it?"

You would yourself, no doubt, and boldly venture anywhere, hoping to change torment with ease, and quickly find delight, which I sought here. You know only good, but you haven’t tried evil. Why object to the will of the one who bounds us?

"Let him better bar his iron gates if he intends our stay in that dark prison. That’s what was asked."

"The rest is true - they found me where they say. But that doesn’t imply violence or harm," he added, scoffing.

The warlike Angel moved, half-smiling with disdain.

"Oh, the loss of one in Heaven to judge the wise! Since Satan fell, overthrown by foolishness, and now returns from his prison, escaped. I’m seriously questioning whether to consider them wise or not, those who ask what boldness brought him here, beyond the boundaries set in Hell."

"He judges it wise to flee from pain and escape his punishment! So judge you still, presumptuous! Until the wrath you incur by flying meets your flight sevenfold, and lashes that wisdom back to Hell, which taught you nothing better - that no pain can equal infinite anger provoked."

But why just you? Why weren’t all of Hell unleashed? Is pain less for them? Or are you tougher than they are? Brave Chief! First to bail on the pain! If you'd told your people this reason for fleeing, you wouldn't be the only one running.

To which the Fiend answered, scowling fiercely.

"It’s not that I feel less or shrink from pain, Insulting Angel! You already know I stood with you, when the thunderous volley made all speed, and supported your spear - which you didn’t even fear. But your words, as always, show you've got no clue what it takes."

A true leader doesn’t risk everything alone, based on untested paths and bad experiences. I, therefore, I alone first dared to fly into the empty abyss and scout out this new world.

There’s buzz about it even in Hell, and I’m hoping to find a better place to settle my powers - here on Earth, or in the air. Though we’ll have to try again to take it, just like you and your crew are doing.

"It’s easier for you to just serve your Lord, singing hymns around his throne, and practiced distances to bow down, not fight."

The warrior Angel replied quickly.

"To say one thing and then immediately take it back - pretending first to avoid pain, then claiming to be a scout - that doesn’t make you a leader, but a liar, Satan. Could you honestly add anything faithful to that? O, sacred name, profaned! Faithful to whom? To your rebellious crew?"

An army of demons, a fitting body for a fitting head. Was this your discipline and faith? Your military obedience, to abandon loyalty to the ultimate power? And you, sly hypocrite, who now pretend to champion liberty? Who fawned and groveled more than you, worshipping Heaven’s awesome Monarch?

Why, but to dislodge him and rule yourself? But listen to what I decree now, go! Fly neither from whence you fled!

"If from this hour within these hallowed limits you appear, I’ll drag you back to the infernal pit, chained, and seal you so, that you’ll never again scoff at the easily barred gates of Hell."

He threatened, but Satan paid no mind, growing angrier.

"Then when I’m your captive, talk about chains, Proud Limitary Cherub! But before that, expect a heavier load from my powerful arm - even if Heaven’s King rides on your wings, and you, used to the yoke, draw his triumphant wheels across the star-paved road of Heaven."

As he spoke, the angelic squadron glowed fiery red, sharpening their horns. They began to encircle him with spears, as thick as a field of ripe Ceres, swaying with the wind. The careful plowman hesitated, wondering if he'd left his hopeless sheaves to prove chaff.

On the other side, Satan, alarmed, gathered all his strength and stood tall, like Teneriffe or Atlas, unmoving. His stature reached the sky, and Horror sat plumed on his crest. He didn't lack anything in his grasp - it seemed both a spear and a shield.

Now, terrible things could have happened - not just Paradise, but the starry heavens, or even the elements themselves, could have been torn apart by this conflict.

But the Eternal, to prevent such a terrible fight, hung forth his golden scales - still visible between Astrea and the Scorpion sign - where he first weighed all created things: the round earth, balanced.

He thought about everything that had happened. Battles. Kingdoms. He weighed two things: leaving and fighting. The urge to fight exploded, kicking the balance beam. Gabriel saw it and spoke to the Fiend.

"Satan, I know your strength, and you know mine," Gabriel said.

"But we don’t have our own power. It’s been given to us. So what’s the point of bragging about what weapons can do? You can’t do more than Heaven allows, and neither can I - even though I’m stronger now."

He paused. "Just look up there," Gabriel continued.

"Read your fate in that sign in the sky. See how light you are. How weak. If you fight this, you’re toast."

The Fiend looked up. He saw his scale, way up high. That was it. He knew.

He bolted. And with him, the shadows of night scattered. Like, gone.