Nephilim: Prologue
I revisited an old friend last week. A narrative concept for a novel which I’ve been carrying around with me for several years. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a book published, and hopefully with a little motivation, that dream is within reach. I’ve started by establishing the universe (literally) in my prologue, the world in which my work of fiction will unfold.
The protagonist is a young person named Lucas Mercer, who has the weight of his nephilim identity thrust upon him. Though he is not a hero, his actions will inevitably shape the outcome of a war that has waged since time immemorial.
Prologue (first draft)
I am going to cast you back. Before the whisper of the wind, before the sun, moon, oceans and sky; and before God. The Nexus we called it, a realm of darkness. Our own universe, consumed by violence and chaos, a place where only evil things dwelled. Demons, the malevolent beings of the abyss, a great a powerful shadow stretching on forever. Insatiable they are, feeding off the darkness and each other, the monsters that elude even myth. The expanse of space and time is their altar, where they pay tribute to their hunger, devouring each other without remorse, all the while relishing in their revels. Since time immemorial, they have known only death and rebirth, only the taste of nothingness, the absence of being. Then it came.
No human on Earth or angel in Heaven has the capacity to fathom its significance, and the bearing it would have on the incessant shadow. The universe trembled upon the tearing of its fabric, and the inrush of a piercing white light. Like an explosion, resonating, then thrumming in the deep of space. The deep breath followed, and all was silent for a time before the plunge, as the universe once more bellowed out in glorious upset. Fire and power exhaled on celestial wings from a untold, unknowable realm. The demons of the Nexus could do all but look unto the sheer luminance that came forth from that great chasm, like an unending flood that surged through the depths of the cosmos, engulfing all darkness in its reach. Whether it lasted an eternity or an ephemeral moment, no one can say, but eventually the rift sealed itself, withdrawing its lustrous hand from our universe, but not before planting the key to life.
A seed of grace, of immeasurable potency and brilliance, pulsated at the centre of the universe, like the beating heart of the Demiurgus herself - the artisan of creation. No conceived language would be capable of describing its perfection – creation, in its purest of forms. From this seed grew a living celestial body, a magnificent tree of all life, with branches stretching to the farthest reaches of space. Upon the arms of this great tree, the universe as we know it first came to be – galaxies and an array of phenomena, mysterious and wondrous both, blooming, strewn across the face of eternity.
The demons however, disturbed by this foreign presence that threatened to annihilate the darkness, emerged renewed in their gluttony. Engrossed with destroying the Tree of Life, they turned their hunger towards the many stars and planets, feeding off death like a plague. With each world they consumed, they grew stronger, more driven, and in numbers until the sky was awash with their ilk. In a desperate act, the branches of Yggdrasil entwined until they had woven the primordial entity, the great sentinel, the one whom would safeguard the light of the cosmos from the evil that threatened to consume it – Elohim.
Thus began a battle that would span an age. God, as you know him, a warrior deity clad in light, would fight against the adversary, an unrelenting foe whose tenacity is matched only by their ferocity. You think you know how this tale ends – good triumphs over evil, the forces of light prevailing over the shadow, but not all things are so simple. Elohim did do battle against those foul creatures, but even it foresaw the end result of his great struggle: that it would be defeated, its spirit cast away to forever wander the shores of oblivion. This is something it would not- could not allow to come to pass, and so it did the impossible. Through all its pain and suffering, fragmented its consciousness, splitting off emotions, personalities, memories, and more, and allowing what remained to pass from the confines of the cosmos and into a sanctuary, from where it might guide those fragments it had left behind in its stead.
From its passion, dawned the first of many, a star of profound radiance and beauty – lo, the light of Lucifer. It was he who struck out against the demons with a sweeping and whirling flame, liquid light across the planes of the Nexus; but it was Elohim’s courage that would bear us a leader who would charge the enemy with fierce resolution and vigilance – Michael. Demons, both great and small, would fear the plunge of his blade, smouldering with a fury wrought from endless battle. From Elohim’s wrath and despise for the demons, came Samael on swift wings, with a scythe forged in the belly of a dying star. Fuelled with the souls of the enemy, the cut of the reaper could pierce, wound even the fabric of the universe, opening regions of space-time where even light could not escape, confining the demons within their own vile pursuit of the perfect darkness. We were numerous in our numbers, all personifying the very temperaments of Elohim from which we were made. Empathy begetting Gabriel, wisdom begetting Uriel, and many more amongst our ranks; but even in our numbers, still we could not hold back the tide.
At a time when it appeared that all hope had faded, the fires of those righteous guardians waning under the weight of forever, the archangel Gabriel happened upon something miraculous in a far corner of the Nexus, a place forgotten. There he found a fruit, a planet so small that it had eluded the attention of those with malicious intent. They say that as Gabriel stood in physical form upon the surface of the young world, that it echoed with the promise of life in his ear – a promise that all our efforts had not been in vain.
Our leaders, the archangels, swept away by their bonds of duty to protect this water bound planet, would leave the rest of the universe to its fate, in hopes of saving this one chance for something greater. And so it was here, on the reaches of the arm of Orion, that the Great War began in earnest. Angels, the host, brothers, and sisters at arms, fighting that much harder to make what very well might have been our last stand. Our accumulated strength was a force to be reckoned with – the hand of God as it were, that would lay devastation upon wave after wave of demon hordes. Their victory, our victory, what little there was to be had in our sacrifice, was near. But the cunning of the foe was ruefully underestimated. A leviathan: a savage totality of a twisted demonic aggregation. A hive mind for all demon-kind, paying homage to their insatiable appetite for dominion; arose to shatter our resolve.
It was in that moment that an angel, Shamsiel, allowed his celestial body to become one with Sol, your star. In sacrificing his grace, Shamsiel had in effect, ended our bloody struggle. His sigil, seared onto the face of Sol, heralded a new kind of magic – powerful, and unique. A shield, alive with the potency of his life force, and the vigour of creation, cloaked Sol and extended its reach to embrace the water planet within its protective grasp.
The host of Elohim rallied behind their newly formed blockade, holding the line whilst the snarling beast, that terrible monster, charged the shield, again and again, until finally brooding in its defeat. The demons routed in confusion, and we took comfort in our triumph, our survival to fight another day; but no songs were sung, our voices curbed in the knowledge of all that had been lost in the wake of the conflict. We had failed, the light of Yggdrasil had all but been extinguished, its branches splintered, and a myriad of worlds left to the decay of time, with no defence against the leviathan’s ire.
In our solemn submission to the cruel hand of fate, we wandered aimlessly the Eden we had given all to defend, the resounding cries of our fallen brothers and sisters still fresh in our minds. For an aeon we waited, spirits leaden with grief, but ever hopeful in our conviction that the fruit of our labour, or rather what we had laboured to secure, would eventually yield a sign that the exertions of our endeavours had not been for naught. Yet still the years had stolen from us our sobriety and contentment in mere salvation. A single ethereal question, a parasitic melancholy haunting the thoughts of many, began to divide, to cause a rift between those duty-bound to hold true to their fealty, and those who perceived their solace as a betrayal of commission to actively stand in recognition as testaments of Yggdrasil’s influence. The question, in your tongue, simply translated to “what if?” Strange that such a meagre notion could – would change the course of human, and the history of the angelus alike.
Cohorts of angels began to venture back into the fray in a folly effort to ease the pain of their enduring guilt. Albeit, like the wild beast that struggles desperately when cornered, their prowess could win them little more than a waning sense of pride in their refusal to accept defeat. Their small feats did little to bolster their confidences in the hope that they might somehow recast the die, hazard a chance at reclaiming all that was lost in the starkness of our defeat.
While others warred on the outskirts, those who remained in quiet benevolence and reflection, by the will of Elohim, learnt of the secret corridors of Yggdrasil - branches that stretched beyond the reaches of the Nexus to a place that you and yours have given many names: Valhalla, Elysium, Paradise, Nirvana, Heaven. There we felt most strongly the presence of Elohim once more, and even, on rare occasion heard his voice rising from the celestial river we called Gihon.
For a time all angels walked with Elohim. What tranquility we had found in his presence, but also sorrow. To watch, to wait, the ticking of the infinite clock looming over us. For all that was, and would ever be, we, warriors of the light, could never touch, would never again be able to bask in the beauty of Yggdrasil, where we were truly home amongst the stars. What were we now but miscarriages of salvation. It was our duty to protect and deliver life unto the fold, so that it might prosper beneath our careful tending.
Time would become our greatest foe. As the planets orbited Sol season after season, millennia after millennia, minds began to show the damage of prolonged endurance. Then it happened - life. A resolution, the resolution. Can you imagine? Can you even begin to comprehend our fervour? How diligently and profoundly we watched. Absorbed in every facet of this new sentience from the moment of its making, to when it crawled from the oceans, learned to hunt and search for sustenance. Its ambition – your ambition was most endearing to behold; to become, to create, and eventually substantiate the purpose of your own existence. Each living thing as individual and unique as the next. We watched you grow, watched as you fought to survive and adapt to the cold, the heat, and the many temperaments of Terra. The world was yours, and you reaped from it the bounties of a mortal life; with each generation striving for dominance so that you might better master the gifts laid before you. And when you died and your souls began to wonder aimlessly, we built gateways for you to find your way to Paradise.
For ages we proposed amongst ourselves which of the life forms would rise up and become most exceptional. For all the giant beasts that roamed the land and sea, never would we have guessed that the little hairless apes would rise to the challenge, but so you did, and we began to walk amongst you. Though you did not know our true selves, we advised and educated you, and guided you when you were lost. In time you were many, for wherever there was fertile land you prospered. Building wooden and stone houses in your wake, you cleared forests, dug up the land, and hunted your neighbouring species to sustain your physical existence. Though you were not as we had predicted, not a unified species working for the benefit of all.
Lucifer took a particular interest in your ingenuity during times of war. We marvelled and resented your willingness to slaughter one-another over the most insignificant matters. Many of us took action, to help show you the way to a more peaceful existence. Though your blood-lust proved too great, and more often than not, our efforts were misunderstood, leading to further bloodshed. We had considered revealing our true forms to you, to help you see the error of your ways; to bring you together and make you strong in the knowledge of the true evil beyond the skies. Though in doing so we quickly realized that your fragile minds and bodies did not have the capacity to comprehend the awesome power of Elohim.
Quickly things grew out of hand. Despite that you could not see or hear the voice of Elohim, you sensed his presence, as we do. You became obsessed with the notion of his approval, and those will influence amongst you insisted on the capability to fathom his will. Your leaders, Cain and Abel warred with each other for many years before Cain slew Abel in his sleep. We had hoped that in reaching conflicts end, and in witnessing for yourselves that Elohim showed no favour in your blood feud, that you would set aside your differences and consider the repercussions of your actions.
Alas this was not what came to pass. In our refusal to provide the acknowledgement that you so desperately craved, Cain declared himself a deity. His greed and madness was infectious, and soon all had fallen into chaos. Whilst many of us were preoccupied with containing and quelling the violence and turmoil that spread across the world like a plague, Lucifer and those loyal to him formulated a plan to use mankind in the war against the demons. Through lying with mortal women,creators of life in their own right, Lucifer and his gave way to a new race of half-breeds, part angel, part human, and full of ambition. Armed with the weapons of Heaven, Lucifer sought to sharpen the spear of celestial resolve with these half-breeds. Have them on the front-lines, leading the charge against our foe.
Lucifer bred them in secret for a time, but their abnormally large stature and other physical anomalies from the remainder of humanity soon drew the attention of Michael. When he discovered the truth, he called them abominations and ordered their destruction. He did not however expect such effective resistance from those he had condemned, and Lucifer, unable to sway his brother, launched an all out assault, igniting the civil war.
In an effort to cripple the half-breed resistance and break the backbone of Lucifer’s forces, Samael laid devastation to the world by summoning a great and terrible flood to wipe the slate clean. We saved those we could from the waters - the innocent, and many beasts, both great and small, so that Terra might begin anew.
Defeated, Lucifer and his legions were cast out of Heaven with agonising force, the result of which saw their celestial bodies punch through into a dark domain, one devoid of life and light. Upon seeing this, Michael and the other archangels decided this should be the traitor’s prison, and so sealed them within, a sentence that was meant to last an eternity. It took but a millennia for Lucifer to escape into the Nexus, and begin raising his army of half-breeds once more, half-breeds we came to call nephilim. Only this time, he would ensure their survival.
