The Descent of the Gods

Enemy

All was chaos in Nod.

With the streets emptied and the attention of the populace occupied at the arena, Caleb's band of warriors and slaves met little resistance as they plowed through the winding alleys, skirting around the arena and citadel, and making for the first drawbridge.

There ensued a fight as the soldiers guarding the bridge were set upon from behind. No one, even the angels had thought to make the bridges defensible from the rear. Even so, the attack on the first drawbridge took precious minutes.

During the attack, Caleb dispatched slaves to block the streets that led to the drawbridge. He did not know how long it would take for Cainite reinforcements to appear. He was confident they could escape successfully with the mob if they were able to keep moving forward. Blocked in from both sides, they might still forge their way across the bridge and to the safety of the forest, but at great cost.

The slaves went about their task with gusto, flipping wagons and piling construction materials at the street outlets between buildings - anything that would slow the imminent tide of Cainite soldiers flanking them.

As the first tower fell, and the bridge was lowered to the second guard-tower standing upon a massive boulder in the middle of the river, Caleb posted a rear-guard of slaves with one of his own men.

"Drive back any pursuers!" He challenged them. 

His own men, he sent on another mission. They scrambled over the sides of the bridge, clinging to the huge wooden girders. There they placed bundles of sticks mixed in pitch. And they lit them with torches.

The bridge had to burn if they were to truly get away from the long arm of Nod's military might. Small wisps of smoke began to rise from a score of points along the bridge. It would take some time, but it should be enough. Caleb hoped.

Alone, he crossed the bridge, ignoring the arrows zipping his direction from the second guard-tower. He intended to vanquish it.

Moments later, his men returning to the top of the bridge, they saw the second drawbridge lowering. They let out a shout. Caleb had succeeded, fighting back the entire garrison of the guard house. 

The Edenites charged across the first bridge, hundreds of slaves following behind them. 

Enoch arrived on the scene, having to clamber over a hastily constructed barricade to do so. He was not greeted by the rear-guard that Caleb had left. Instead, they were cowering back in fear of another warrior. 

Azrael stood between Enoch and the bridge. He ignored the slaves pouring across. He had eyes only for Enoch. He was holding a long and wicked-looking sword, and Enoch knew that the time had come that he would use it. 

"You have heard the word of the Lord, Azrael," Enoch said, walking forward without a sign of fear or hesitation. He knew that the Spirit of God that had allowed him such power previously would not always reside within him. The Spirit was not a power Enoch could control, turning off and on at will. Somehow he knew it was a gift that may never be given him again. The anointing of the Spirit's power was God's prerogative - not Enoch's. 

Regardless, he advanced. He had been chosen for a reason. He had work to do, and his work was far from complete. Azrael would not be allowed to touch him.

"I will not stand to see angels judged by men! After all we have done for you?" Azrael said bitterly.

"What you did, you did for yourselves. And when you discovered this truth, you did not repent, rather you deliberately went further into rebellion. That is why you have no blessing." Enoch replied.