The Descent of the Gods

Harem

Naamah pushed her way into the slaves quarters. She had never been here before. It was her mother's domain. It was not a place for young girls, her mother had always said. 

As she had become older, she had become aware that many considered the women that dwelt here more than slaves. They were beautiful creatures. Taken from dirty mud huts as children, a life of servitude awaited them, but most would never have left, even if given the choice. Zillah made sure these girls had good diets, plenty of exercise, and everything to be happy, as long as they did as they were instructed. 

'The old man's whorehouse' was what people called it in whispers, chuckling to themselves. But no one questioned his right to the spoils of war with their neighbors.

Naamah had always brushed aside the comments and allusions to what her mother really taught these women to do. Cain was never a concern of hers - but Nod was.

And now Nod, the city that Azrael vowed to entrust to her, was in an uproar due to Enoch's accusations about none other than these women. Women her mother was in charge of.

She had come for answers. When she entered, her eyes were greeted by lush colors and women preparing themselves for the day's service at the angel's sides.

Zillah saw her daughter enter. She simply pushed a brush into colored powder and daubed it on the face of a girl seated in front of her.

"Naamah! What do you think? Semyaza formulated the powders. Simple, but such stunning results!"

"Why must these slaves be so beautiful, Mother?"

"Don't they serve gods now?"

"Do their services require them to be so adorned?" Naamah said, lifting up a sheer white robe from a pile on a couch. 

"When would they wear finer garments than even you, Mother?"

Zillah stopped painting the slave's face. She rested her arms on her lap, and bowed her head. 

"Get out, all of you." The girls left them alone.

"I need to know the truth, mother."

"Don't be stupid. You know it's true, what Enoch spouted about in front of the whole city this morning. You're too naive, that's why you hoped he was wrong."

Naamah sank onto a cushion, speechless. The revelation that her mother had known all along was almost more overpowering than the angel's secret itself.

"To be loved by a god is a terrible and beautiful thing, my daughter," Zillah said softly. She looked at Naamah. Naamah was given another shock. She had never seen her mother cry before, and now tears were running down her cheeks uninhibited. 

"Don't think too badly of me," Zillah said. "There's so much I wish I could tell you. Someday you will know why I had to do this. It was not my choice. I had to protect that which I love - you, your brother, and your father."

Zillah saw that Naamah was wearing the necklace again, the one from Eden she had lost weeks earlier in the scuffle to help Maori.

"He found it for you, didn't he? Azrael?"

Naamah nodded.

"He had known where it was hidden. Even from beyond our world, he cared for you. Azrael will dwell here, even if he doesn't yet know it. You can be happy with him, Naamah."

This was too much for the girl.

"No! It must not be so, mother!" Naamah said, her words laced with anguish.

"He will stay for you," Zillah called out after her. "He needs you Naamah. Don't turn your back on him now!"

Naamah hid in her room, crying. The thought of being loved by Azrael was too much for her to bear. Yes, she loved him. She was not so foolish to deny it, but to admit it aloud was something she knew she could never do.

He had saved her people from destruction, and risked much to do so. If she gave him any reason to remain and face unknown consequences... she could not do such a terribly selfish thing.

"Is there something wrong, my lady?" Maori asked gently.

Naamah sat up, drying her eyes and trying to regain her composure. 

"I am alright." 

Maori sat down on the bed beside her. 

"I'm afraid for Azrael," Naamah finally confessed.

"I know your fear too well," Maori said, her own voice suddenly unsteady.

Naamah remembered that Maori had been at Sariel's side until he had been taken. Sariel seemed to be very kind to her and...

"You love him too?" Naamah said, finally understanding.

"Yes, but not in the way the other girls have loved them." Maori replied quickly.

"What do you mean?" Naamah asked.

"We never went that far. I know he cared for me above the rest, but even when I knew the other angels were taking women for their own, he never did."

"Why not?" Naamah asked.

"I don't know. I would have given him everything he asked for. But it was as if he loved me too much to... to... defile me."

Naamah was taken aback. An angel had had the opportunity, and had refused? 

"I didn't understand then. I tried to entice him even, but he would not. Now that he is gone, I finally realize it wasn't because he didn't care for me. He cared for me more than the others did for the other girls."

"Maori, you know the forests, right?" Naamah had an idea.

"Yes, I was raised in the mountains, not far from Herab's mountain." Maori replied, confused.

"Can you take Azrael a message for me?" Naamah asked. "Tell him of what is happening here. He needs to know of the angel's sin!"

"Sin?" Maori said defensively. 

"Yes, and he will not look kindly upon them for their deceit. He must return before anything happens to Enoch."

"But he is searching for Sariel! He will find him and bring him back to me, I know it! I would not interfere with Sariel's return to me."

"Maori, I didn't mean that..."

"Stop, Naamah." Maori said firmly. Naamah was shocked. The girl she had saved from the slaver's wrath had never spoken back to her. Not until today. 

"Because of Azrael's love for you, Sariel was taken," Maori continued, her tone harsh. "You realize that, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" 

"Herab took you so that an angel would be put in a vulnerable position, to be taken and tortured, or worse! It was your fault!"

"I had no idea," Naamah said quietly.

"I know you saved my life," Maori said. " But if anything happens to him, I'll never forgive you."

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And they taught men... the beautifying of the eyelids, and all kinds of costly stones, and all coloring tinctures. 1 Enoch 8:1