The Descent of the Gods

Impact

Their protective wings were almost completely burned through by the time the angels were over Nod. They needed to slow down quickly, or their descent would be literally short-lived. But slowing would have to be done at the very last moment. 

Azrael forced his the remaining tatters of his folded wings to change his course. He dove down toward the city center. He knew exactly where he would make his entrance to Nod, and he dropped toward it. The others followed, each spying out a place to make their landings. Closer and closer to the ground they thundered, each angel watching Azrael for the signal. Lower and lower they dropped, and angels that had not known fear in the centuries since the great war for the Throne, felt it creep back. They remembered now more than ever what they had risked for this moment. In only a few more seconds, they could perish on the hard rocks below them, and no guarantee had been made for what destiny would await them after a mortal death.

Azrael was the first to spread the flaming tinders of his once powerful wings open wide to slow his speed. Immediately the other angels did the same, and all over the city of Nod, their fiery wings unfurled in an instant, slowing their descent. But the stress of the wind on their weakened wings was immense. 

Their wings shattered under the shock, disintegrating into a million glowing shards. The bursts sounded like lightning, and every mortal eye in Nod that had dared to watch them thus far had to cower under the stunning brightness. 

The sacrifice of their wings did as was intended, slowing them enough to land upon the earth. But not all of their glory had completely faded. As angels crashed down, rock shattered, pavement cracked, and ground gave way to smoldering craters. Most of them aimed for the rocky outcropping at the northern edge of the island, and as each angelic form landed, the ancient stone that had stood sentinel over Nod now splintered and pieces flew as far as the opposite shore.

Azrael held his wings open as wide as possible, willing them not to explode, desperately waiting to make sure all his comrades landed successfully. Only once the last angel had landed, at that instant, his wings gave up and were gone.

For Azrael, there was only one place he would introduce himself to the city that had scorned his centuries of guardianship. His feet crashed first into Cain's raised fist, then smashed through the image's arrogant face, and the entire image collapsed into a cloud of dust in one blinding instant. The moment his feet reached the altar the image had been erected on, he abruptly halted on its smooth surface, disturbing not a single stone.

Kneeling upon the altar of Nod, Azrael rested. Their descent had purged all sound from the island. It was absolutely silent. The din had been replaced by an eerie quiet. The only thing that now moved was the dust and smoke that rose in billowing towers from each landing. 

His head bowed, he saw only his hands upon the stones of the altar. He traced his fingers across their rough surface. Here, only hours before, Naamah had stood and fought for the faith. Where she had stood, he was. Not only that, but somewhere in the city, she was waiting to meet him, even if she did not know it yet. She would see him at last. What would happen next? The thought terrified him more than he could have imagined. The realization hit him - there was no turning back.

Breathe Azrael, BREATHE! 

He breathed the air of Nod, deeply. Then he coughed violently. The dust from Cain's statue filled the air around him, and he had just sent it into his lungs. 

I've just arrived, and Cain's already trying to kill me. 

Azrael smiled wryly. He looked up, surveying around the altar. Covered in dust, he could not tell the difference between the Herabites who had assaulted the image and the Cainites who had thrown themselves as human shields in front of it to protect it. Timidly, heads began to rise and peer through the haze at the angel on the altar. 

Azrael stood slowly. The people cowered back but did not flee. 

All over the island, men, women and children were seeing angels in fleshly forms for the first time. They appeared human-like, but one glance told each onlooker that these were no ordinary men. They seemed taller, nobler, fiercer - somehow more. Their hair was white, their garments were white, their eyes a piercing silver. Every heart remembered the ancient tales of a god in the sky. Surely these were his children. No heart doubted that now.

Azrael's voice reached through the stillness in every corner of the island.

"I am the protector of Nod. Let heaven and earth know it!"

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"And they were in all two hundred; who descended in the days of Jared on the summit..." Enoch 6:6