The Kingdoms of Eden

CHAPTER ONE: The Fall of Paradise

As the brothers left the cottage, they brought with them starkly diverse sets of emotions. One was sceptical. Two were fearful. The last was brimming with child-like excitement and hope. To the hopeful brother, the road ahead was all that mattered. How it ultimately ended was of no consequence. The excitement of the journey was everything. He had been granted the freedom to chose as a test of his worthiness. He had spectacularly failed that test. His thirst to fail again and again burned with the intensity of a newly formed star through his every waking thought. It felt so good, so right, and he wanted more. The high of rebellion coursed through his veins, and it consumed him whole—he would have more. His brothers and sisters had yet to comprehend the true meaning and power of freedom; the part that was indeed divine—personal freedom was delightful, but controlling the freedom of others was pure ecstasy. That is what the Creator understood; that was the cruelty of His game—gift His creation freedom, and then forbid them to use that freedom—it was cruel; He was ruthless. Existence was empty, life was transient, but liberty was living. He would rule over freedom; all of creation would one day lay freedom at his feet, and the great war would truly end. Creation runs on cruelty, and he would be cruel; he could be He.

The brothers climbed high up onto the side of the blue mountain which towered over the cottage. With every step that they took underneath the intense heat of the newly formed sun, they became more fixed in their material forms. Delicate scents drifted aimlessly on a cool breeze, sparking into life their sense of smell. Their sense of touch activated as they stopped to pick up rocks, and to pluck flowers from dense patches of competing vegetation. Half-way to their destination, they stopped by a small stream of crystal-clear water to quench a growing thirst. The brothers were drunk on child-like delight as they scooped, and the then sipped on the refreshing fluid. Each new experience brought joy, yet as they climbed the steep top half of the mountain less pleasant sensations began to take hold—the burning pain in the muscles of their legs—a tightness in their chests as their hearts pounded and their lungs strained—the returning thirst, with no cool water to quench it. As the novelty of delight gave way to the reality of struggle and suffering, they all felt the same thing, just as the rebellious brother had intended—if they stayed in this place they would eventually wither and die. This paradise was a glorious prison, and their punishment was to choose to stay.

The portal to the other realm apportioned hope to all four in unequal measure—yet the great hope felt by one and the slight, uncertain hope felt by the others, was still hope. The black liquid of the pool was still, and sleek, and firm. The pool was truly unremarkable, if not for the fact that it was so very out of place, on the side of the mountain explicitly, and set in the marvel of their prison paradise more generally. The most cynical of the four stepped onto the surface of the portal. Instantly, the liquid beneath the surface began to stir. The empty darkness gave way to scenes from that other place. The brother stepped off the portal; his mouth agape. The images continued to form, to fade, to change, as another image took the place of the last; and so on, in a quickening procession. There was a vast desert cut in two by a mighty river, astride which fertile plains of grassland and wheat nourished both man and beast. And then a vast forest of majestic trees, with clouds of birds dancing in the pristine sky. Then a land of castles; sturdy structures with high curtain walls and armed men standing guard. Then a city of tall, glass-fronted buildings, with rivers of cars moving in an endless, stop-start train along wide roads, like blood pumping around a diseased and broken circulatory system. And finally, the original Eden, in a time before The Fall—a place of pure white energy—interconnected and at peace. As the image began to fade to a deep black, the brothers exchanged looks that betrayed the thoughts of each—there was little conciliation in their expressions.

"I told you brothers. Hope is not gone. Hope is never gone. It persists, like the spark of the Divine inside each of us persists. All creation, at our feet. This is truly a gift. Our chance for redemption."