by Jasmine Walt
Gabriel’s eye twitched. Rhea teared up. I ignored the God Twins; their comments, if they said any, were likely lewd and sexual.
“Enough of this,” said Michael.
“No,” I said. “Enough of you. You’ve tried to destroy everything that breathes life. It’s not creation that’s the problem. It’s you. You’re the one who can’t change. You can’t evolve.”
“There’s no need.”
For a second, I thought maybe I was wrong. Michael’s lip curled into a snarl. Anger lit his eyes. So, he did feel. It was just burning, ugly feelings.
“We were born perfect,” he said.
“Ego much?”
Michael sniffed. His eyes narrowed on me. His hands clenched into fists and a dark light grew there. He stepped toward me. A crowd gathered at my back, and I knew my friends and family were there.
Before Michael could take that first step, Gabriel put out his hand.
Michael glared at Gabriel. Silent communication passed between the two. Then Gabriel gave us his back and walked backward. Toward us.
My dad crossed an imaginary line in the asphalt of the parking lot. Michael watched him go. It took much longer for the Elohim to comprehend exactly what was happening. By then, it was too late.
Other Elohim followed Gabriel across the divide. Rhea. Followed by Cronus, on his leash. Rhea dropped the leash when Hera flew into her father’s arms, tethering him with her forbidden love.
Others crossed, Elohim I didn’t know. And two I did. The God Twins stood at the back of the line, closest to the human army. Their children just rolled their eyes and mouthed deadbeats.
Our enhanced army faced off against Michael and his smaller number of Elohim. The odds were a bit more even now, and I felt the first true pangs of hope. Until…
Fire lit the sky. Eden streaked across the horizon on a dragon. The odds had swayed out of our favor once more.
22
The dragon’s dark wings stretched behind Eden like a cape. She wasn’t clothed. Flesh covered her bright essence. In the waning moonlight, her light cast a reddish glow, a living fire riding in the night.
Some of the soldiers fell to their knees at the sight. Their heavy boots kicked up rocks as they prostrated themselves. Others, brawny men with visible battle scars, openly wept. Women tilted up their heads and wailed in various languages for their savior.
“Children of the Earth,” said Eden, “hear me.”
She was far away from us, up in the sky, but her words touched my ears. They touched my soul. She spoke not only in every tongue known to man, she also called out telepathically to the flora and fauna that inhabited this womb of a rock.
“I am your Lord God. I know my existence has been doubted by many of you. But I assure you, I am no figment. I am quite alive. I have been here since the dawn of time.”
A monitor in one of the jeeps came to life. I hadn’t noticed before because the screen had been dark. Now it filled with Eden and the dragon, as much as the drone camera could chase after them and keep the two mystical creatures in its viewfinder.
“I am indeed omniscient, with knowledge of every action that has taken place on this rock. I am omnipotent with unlimited power. I am omnipresent as my essence is evident in every blade of grass to every creature that breathes.”
Michael made a grinding sound, his jaw clenched as though he was gnashing his teeth. His features were pinched as his gaze stayed trained on Eden. For a being who never showed emotion, he was clearly not happy to see her.
Up in the sky, the dragon reared up. The claws at the tips of its wings framed its sinewy body. Eden’s bald head formed its crown as she continued her sermon.
“You have spent your time worshipping me when all I asked was for your excellence. But you have not excelled. You have desecrated my house, profaned my name, and destroyed much of my creation. I am not pleased.”
The few humans who had stood stoic under this divine assault now quivered in their boots. The Ishim even looked chastised. Arthur’s head hung low, even though his people had done no such thing. He was likely thrashing himself internally that he hadn’t done enough. The suck-up.
“I have sent warning after warning of my displeasure. I have sent flood waters. I have sent disease and pestilence. But you have not heeded my instruction, and for that I called for the eradication of your kind.”
Pandemonium set in on those words. The humans of the army ran for cover. These were the trained professionals. I could only imagine what everyday civilians across the globe were doing. I looked around for the commander, but I couldn’t find him anywhere in the crowd. So much for sticking up for family and mankind.
“But I realize that I have been mistaken.”
Too late. Her words had incited the worst response in humanity. Then I spotted the commander. He was climbing into the tank.
“I should have used my words. I should have come to the surface and scolded you face to face to make you mind your manners. I’ve been a bad mother.”
Beside me, Bryn made a sound that was partly duh and pfft put together. I couldn’t take the moment to stand in solidarity with my fellow neglected Ishim. I had to get to that tank before the commander did something god-awful.
“Still,” Eden continued, “you have been a bunch of spoiled brats and you do need to be taught to mind. All of you.”
As I moved through the crowd of humans, Eden narrowed her gaze down below. I wished I could see the look on Michael’s face as he was finally called to the carpet.
What had made Eden finally see the errors of her ways? The rebellion of her own children? Maybe the sight of the Elohim staring at each other from across a divide. None of it would matter if I didn’t get to the tank.
I leapt over a few soldiers crowding the tank. As I ran, a gun cocked. A bullet would have slowed me down in my past life. With my skin so thin, it might just send me back to the core, and then who would stand up for these humans?
But the trigger never clicked. The bullet never flew. An ancient curse was spoken, a thud, and then the clink of metal on metal, like a sword meeting a gun.
Behind me, my friends, the family I had chosen, had my back. Like always. They’d taken down whatever human had been told to protect the tank and the commander. But it was too late.
The turret of the tank creaked. It turned until it aimed at Eden, clothed in human flesh, with glowing red skin, seated on a flying serpent with horns.
Crap.
Damn humans. Damn them and their misinterpretations and misunderstandings. Damn them and their fallacies and their fears. Damn them for their emotional hearts and overactive imaginations.
The blast shook me to my core, my words of warning catching in my throat.
The stream of explosive fire arrowed directly toward Eden—like a heat-seeking missile. She was made of light. Even if she tried to outrun it, it would’ve easily found her.
Eden didn’t run. She saw it. Her head cocked like a bird as she watched it.
Time slowed down. My throat cleared. My vision clouded.
Eden reached out, and her body lifted off the dragon. The blast arrowed straight for her hand, which happened to be at the center of her chest.
A brilliant array of color exploded. It rivaled what she’d shown me of her own birth, with reds and yellows and sparks. But as the colors died down, the night went dark again. Nothing remained in the spot where Eden had been.
The silence was deafening. The Elohim and Ishim gasped in disbelief. The humans cheered in victory; a few of the devout ones wailed.
God was dead.
23
Oh my god.
God was dead.
An eerie silence fell over the three armies: the humans, the Ishim, and the Elohim. The dark night lit up as the dragon fell from the sky. It spread its wings at the last minute and broke its landing. But hit the ground with enough force that wobbled everyone. Even a few of the Elohim lost their footing at the great animal's landing.
But not all of them.
Michael turned his face up to the empty sky where Eden had hovered. The space was black now where light had shown. A grin slit his cruel face.
From the first moment I’d seen him, he had looked expressionless. But those without expression, those who caused others pain without care, those who could not understand the stress they caused another living soul, those beings were true psychopaths. And Michael had to be the most psychotic being that had ever lived.
Humans had believed the devil to live below the surface of the earth. I now knew they were right. But it wasn't their souls the fiend was interested in. It was their absence. And now nothing stood in his way.
Michael lifted his hand and aimed. A fireball shot out of his hand. The ball of light aimed right at the tank.
I had only a second to move out of harm’s way. Before I could decide which direction to go, I hurtled into the air.
I landed far away in Zane’s arms. He crouched low as his legs took the impact of striking the ground from a great distance.
Then he shielded my face as a thick liquid rained down. Blood. Blood from the humans who didn’t get out of the way in time. But not only blood.
Metal pieces from the tank ruptured, crashing into other humans, spraying not only parts of the tank but body parts. The iron in both the metal and the blood stung my nose.
Zane placed me back on my feet when the rain stopped. The remaining soldiers scrambled for their weapons, for cover, for a safety that no longer existed for them. The Ishim and Elohim who had stood in front of the army for their protection still stared into the night sky, still shell-shocked at our collective loss. No one stood in Michael’s way.
"You have one chance only," said Michael. "Lay down your weapons and submit. Perhaps I will show leniency to a few dozen of mankind.”
"Leniency?" I shouted into the rising panic of the humans, the crushing sorrow of the light beings and their halfling children. "Like you did the dragons? Or perhaps the kindness you showed the fae that had them flee to another realm to be away from you?”
I made my way toward the new god of darkness. No one stopped me. But my friends rallied enough to gather at my back as I stood before Michael.
“You don't want anything to flourish,” I said. “You'll shove everything down so you can rise above."
"You're wrong.” Michael smiled, and I was sorry to see it. The contortions of his face made the hair on the back of my neck flatten to escape his notice. “I was always above. Everything that has come since is vermin under my feet."
"You don't want peace,” I said. “You need adversity to survive. You're the worst type of being."
He raised his hand to me. I prepared to have my flesh rent in two, my light yanked from my body, for disease to take hold of me and never let me go for an eternity. But that didn't happen.
Zane pulled me into his strong arms. My best friend stepped to my side. Tres stood behind me. My father stepped in front of us all.
In the face of all this adversity, Michael didn’t lower his hands. They glowed an angry red in the face of this rebellion. I braced for impact.
Still, it didn't come.
Michael's hand was raised, a bright light still burning in the center of his palm. The same light burned in the center of my father's palm. But the flames didn't grow. Neither of them moved.
Zane’s arms remained around me. His face was a fierce, immovable mask.
Everyone, everything around me was frozen.
No. Not frozen. There was movement, but they all moved slowly, as if time had slowed down.
In the stillness of the frozen moment, a light shone up on a hill. It came from inside the park. It came from the last remaining turret of the Cinderella Castle.
I walked through a sea of snail-paced people as God stretched out this moment in time. I went back through the gates of Disney World.
Eden sat on the statue of Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse. Against all odds, the statue was unharmed. She sat on Disney’s right shoulder, looking down at where the creator held his creation’s hand.
I hefted myself up to Disney’s other shoulder. We sat in silence for a moment. I had no idea what to say, but I knew she wanted to say something to me—I was the only other living thing not slogging through time in slo-mo.
“I remember making these,” Eden finally said.
She focused on Mickey. Somehow, I didn’t think she meant that she’d made the statue.
“I made them around the same time that I made the dragons. I’ve always thought beings should exist in both large forms and small.” She ran a hand over Mickey’s metallic ear. “And they’re still here. Though I don’t remember them evolving to bipeds.”
“They haven’t,” I said. “It’s just a bit of imagination. Humans like to give animals personalities and feelings. They call it anthropomorphizing.”
“Hmmm.” Eden brought her hand back into her lap. Then she looked out at the frozen melee before us. "This is not what I intended. This is not what I designed."
Her creations aimed violence and vengeance at one another. The divided Elohim. The rebellious Ishim. The frightened humans.
"I was born out of adversity,” Eden said. “All my life I've strived toward harmony. I'm not naive enough to think there would be no strife and struggle in progression. Iron sharpens iron. Diamonds are forged through pressure. But diamonds don't seek to crush each other like my creations do.
"Life is a miracle. I know that. I'm a miracle. I fought to stay alive. I waited so long for something else to be born. I thought I would be the only one that would have to fight. Yet every few centuries, sometimes more frequently, my creations wage wars in my name when I don't want them to. Never asked them to. But it always comes to this. It seems life cannot exist without struggle. Maybe it was all a mistake.”
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Maybe I was a mistake. And if I was a mistake..."
"Then all of creation is a mistake."
Seriously? God was having a crisis of faith right now. In the distance, I spied Zane’s statuesque body. He had his arms up as though he still held me. Tres had his brother’s back. The two had been through strife for centuries, but they found a way back together.
Loren and I had begun in adversity. But now, we would’ve died for each other. Almost had a couple of times.
Demi and I had fallen out but come back together. I could say the same for each of my friends. We made mistakes. But when we eventually addressed our error of ways, we were able to make the relationships stronger even with the mishap that had torn us apart.
"When Zane makes a mistake in his art,” I said, “he incorporates it in his design. He never erases. There's beauty in every line, even the ones that steer him off his original course.”
Eden cocked her head in that thoughtful way of hers. “I do like to combine things."
"Like the platypus?"
She turned to me. "What's wrong with the platypus?"
"Oh, nothing," I said. “When we forget our mistakes, when we forget the past, we're doomed to repeat it. The dinosaurs. The fae. Now humans."
"I don't forget anything. I know all these things. I just stopped paying attention."
I didn't respond.
"Go on," she said. "Say it."
"I... told you so."
I stared into the eyes of God. Her bright orbs weren’t empty, fathomless pools of stillness. They were a raging inferno of sorrow and resignation.
"I've been a bad mother,” she said.
I turned away from her and looked at anything else. Unfortunately, there was nothing to look at, as everything was still in super-slow motion.
"I still don't like that word,” she said. “Mother. It’s a tad harsh on the ears.”
Eden touched the pointy tip of her ear. Then she sighed, turning her attention to the delayed mess that needed her motherly attention.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Discipline my children. I've spared the rod too long. I now admit it: my ch
ildren are spoiled."
24
Eden and I made our way down from the statue of the creator and the figment of his imagination. We walked the silent streets of Disney World. Fireflies hung in the air, their tails glowing bright.
Upon closer inspection it was clear to see that each fly pursued another of its species. The lightning bugs were cannibals, and would either mate or snack on the glowing tails of its partner, depending which urge took it most strongly.
We passed through the gates of the amusement park and came up on the back end of the Elohim siding with Michael. Eden sighed as she stood before the living statue of one of her first creations. Her bright eyes dimmed as she took in Michael’s carnivorous sneer as he faced off against Gabriel.
“I failed you most of all, haven’t I?” She cocked her head at Michael.
She was met with a steely gaze in this stretched moment as Michael focused on the target of his ire.
“I’m going to dismantle that horrible human weapon and then I’ll be back to clean up this mess,” she said.
Eden began to fade away, but I reached out to her.
“Eden, can you give me a moment with him?” I pointed across the divide to the man in question. “There’s something I want to say to him before this is over.”
Eden cocked her head in that birdlike fashion. “Are you sure you want that one? I rather fancy the other one.”
“Yes. I’ve made my choice. I’m sure.”
Eden didn’t reach out to touch his broad shoulders. She blinked her bright eyes, and, as though waking from a dream, he stumbled forward. He wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was latched onto Loren. His shoulder was in line with Zane.
Tres looked around in confusion a moment at the stasis of his surroundings before his gaze landed on me.
“Hey,” I said when I had his attention.
“Nia?” said Tres. His hands were still up in a defensive position. He lowered one arm with uncertainty. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, Eden is disarming the humans and then she’s gonna come back and handle this little situation here with the Elohim.”