In a small ante chamber, adjacent the library, three of the brothers sat around a modest, roughly hewed, wooden table. The library had yet to be stocked and no thought had been given as to how, when, and with what, the cavernous building would be filled. There were more pressing matters at hand than stacking the empty shelves, yet all four knew only too well the importance of the written word in the new age of matter, as their connection to the divine consciousness faded and the secrets of the universe were gradually lost to them.
"Saturn has clearly lost all reason. The war has broken him," said the builder. "That said, he was right about one important thing."
The others shot him quizzical glances—yet another symptom of the disconnect between them and the Divine, and them with each other. It was peculiar not to know at once what each was thinking, but it was the price they had to pay for the way of life they had now chosen; the comfort of collective knowledge and feeling had given way to the solitude, selfishness and danger of the life internal.
"We need names," he continued. "Names of our own choosing. And we need for men to believe. In us and in our Father. If we are to guide them, men need to know us."
"Mercury," said the brother that who had arrived first at the cottage in the dynamic, uncertain, primordial forest. "I choose Mercury."
Mercury added a despondent sigh, before continuing.
"I say that I choose Mercury, but if we are to undertake this vast task across space and time I will be known by many names before this game has finished. We will all be known by many names, and our children by many others."
The others looked at Mercury with utter bewilderment darkening their faces. They remained silent as they waited tolerantly for Mercury to provide an explanation.
"We will be taking on the duties of our Father," began Mercury. "We will love and protect His children, the humans. But there will come a time when we will need to correct, and even punish them. That punishment may prove devastating. If we show them love one day, and then punish them harshly the next day, they will never trust us. Fear is necessary and helpful, but mistrust encourages resentment and rebellion. After all, we should know the value of that lesson better than most."
Mercury's words were wise, and they were also true, but the others felt they deserved to be challenged, but none could express the opposition that they felt in their hearts in a meaningful way. A silence filled the room like an acrid smog, choking their enthusiasm for the new endeavour and introducing a sense of fear for the future, and longing for the past.
"If I must play this childish game, then I choose Ares," said another. "But hear me brothers, I do this for the time to come when we forget what we truly are. A name may be a necessity, but it is base and humiliating. It takes us farther from what we were and brings us closer to what we will become if we should fail. Guide humans, correct and rule over them, but become human... I would rather die the true death than suffer such an indignity. Those are the terms of my acceptance."
The silence returned, but for the briefest of moments.
"Hermes," added the last brother. "Though I agree with you, brother. This is a childish game. We know who we are. Who we were. We have never needed names before. We were tasked as Watchers. Nameless, and guiding mankind from the shadows of their infancy. Names give us a presence. A name is permanent and vain. If we do this damn silly thing, I fear that there will be dire consequences. This is surely a time for humility?"
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The Kingdoms of Eden
FantasíaBefore the Fall of Man, a group of Heavenly rebels fell. As Man was cast from the Earthly Paradise, the rebels moved in. Eden became their prison, their home, and their last chance for redemption. As the millennia passed, great civilisations rose in...
