The Curse of the Broken Shrinking God

Broken but not Destroyed

With the Resurrection and the Life deceased, Samael could now acutely sense his own mortality.  When the dragon dispersed into the myriad of colors, the life forces in them never recombined.   There was only death.

He began to regret his actions: to regret his very existence.  He had acted childishly: selfishly.  Now the other sons of God were feeling the weight of his sin.  When once the air was light where they could fly with great ease wherever they wished, it now pressed in on them from every side.  Great pains unknown to them before gnawed inside.

They began to look to the fallen form of the Resurrection and the Life craving sustenance: the one they despised to look at - so disfigured and charred - they now began to crave for their very survival.  They were, however, hesitant to partake of their own brother.  

Sides had been drawn.  There were those who pledged their loyalty to Samael to the bitter end - thirty three in all.  Sixty six deflected to Michael - a great warrior among them.  As the day wore on they agreed not to divide the body but instead to cast lots.  The higher lot would get his flesh and the other would be left his blood below.  

Thus amid the dispersed remains of the dragon - amid the unshapely form of Mother - and all the bits of Father that had never rejoined - they gingerly began to feast of the Lamb.

Samael refused.  "Please master, the light in you fades."  Rahab pleaded.  "See how the others take on immortality?  Leave your regrets behind you master.  Just one sip."

Samael stared blankly at his chief advisor.  "Would that it were but a noose to me with the power to slay me instead."

"I have waited to drink with you.  The others...they tell me they see the dragon reborn once more.  There is power in this blood...strange power."  He held it forward pleadingly: "Drink!"

Samael took the orb of blood in his hands.  Looking into it he first saw only himself - his actions that played over and over in his mind already.  Then he began to see hope.  Letting himself go he drank deeply.  "Rahab...I see...bits and pieces...I...I need more!"  He looked up to the scattered dragon.  "Ragnarock!...will live again!"

~

With the bodies of those that had once made up the dragon so scattered, not even their spirits knew to come together, but all lay in perfect stillness.  HaShem however was whole.  His spirit spent the day searching out the one son that was not accounted for among the others.

When he found him strayed far from the rest, the light in him had all but faded.  He supported his head with his spirit-hand.  "Thank Father I have found you!  Pray, what is your name?"

"Mel...Melchizidek.   I...I had been hoping to find you.  Mo...Mother...she said you would work this out...though I see not how."  The youth arched his back then gasped for air.  "Pray...take my body if you have...need of it."

The eyes of HaShem glistened.  Most of those with a physical body had been too preoccupied to pay much attention to the spirits.  This one must have been selected by Mother to be able to see.  "I give you new life.  Not at all like the old.  Take my spirit to yourself and live."

The sacrificial priest breathed in deeply.  His body now belonged to another and yet he still retained it as his own - the spirit of HaShem came and went as he desired.  The light of his body increased tenfold.

~

Father - who always could see the good - this day could not.  While his sons bickered over the body of his son like ravenous wolves, he spent the day entoubing him.  The scattered bits of envy, gluttony, greed, lust, pride, slothfulness and  wrath he spent the day picking up and hurling like pebbles across the abyssal sea.  Then he slowly took the golden arms and legs of Mother - hammering out an encasement bracelet lest the spirit of Ragnarock should seek to rise again.  He further look his own arms and legs - hammering out a second protective curtain beyond and encircling the first.

Then he and Mother hand-in-hand sat on their beaten barrier watching the light set on their beaten son.

"I'm leaving."   The Dark One squeezed his fair maiden's hands a quick moment.  

But Mother looked down to her children.  "They yet need me.  Without me they will surely perish."

"All is to be left under HaShem.  He will see to them."

But Mother did not avert her gaze.  "You, my beloved, have chosen to separate from yourself all your darkness.  Nay, I will stay and see if there is yet hope that any other would still do the same.  I will look after the nest and prepare in it a place for your glory once more to dwell."  Finally she turned her gaze to her spouse.  "I will carry your great love...in me...always."

Far beyond the barriers containing his son the grieving Father traversed.  Until he came to great gates of light unmade by his hands.