Envy, Pride, Greed And Lust

All Archangels were created in pairs, male and female, two parts of a whole. Uriel and Haniel. Seraphiel and Gabriel. Raphael and Jophiel. Zadikiel and Raguel. Cassiel and Chamuel. And finally, the last to be created: Michael and Samael.

From the beginning, it was evident that they were not equals.

 Michael, the Taxiarch, excelled in all things. She was a beacon of strength, a paragon of virtue. She led the armies of Heaven with unwavering resolve, her presence a testament to the Lord's power and grace. Samael, the Joy-bringer, was equally beautiful and powerful, but he was plagued by a shadow within, an inferiority complex that whispered of his inadequacy compared to his sister and the other Archangels.

 Despite being one of the Seven directly tasked with maintaining and expanding the universe in the Lord's absence, Samael felt a constant sense of insufficiency. He stood among the other Archangels paired and harmonious. Yet, Samael could not shake the feeling that he was lesser, a flawed half of the whole.

 He recalled their creation, the moment they first opened their eyes to the splendor of Heaven. Michael, with her radiant beauty and powerful presence, took to her role with ease. She embodied the Lord's strength and justice. Samael, though also a creature of light, felt a shadow within him, a doubt that whispered of his inadequacy.

Michael's feats were celebrated, her victories in celestial battles sung across the heavens. She was the first to lead, the first to stand by the Lord's orders. Samael, though skilled and beautiful, found himself overshadowed. His achievements, while significant, never seemed to measure up to his sister's.

 Soon enough, he never seemed to measure up to any of his siblings.

 They tried to reassure him.

 They couldn't, for they didn't understand how it felt to be inadequate.

 He was a creation of the Lord.

 Samael was supposed to be perfect.

 As time went on, this inferiority festered. It was a subtle poison, a silent wound. Samael masked it with pride and ambition, hiding his growing resentment behind a facade of confidence. But deep inside, the feeling of being lesser, of being incomplete without Michael, ate away at him.

 Their bond, once pure and strong, began to fray. Michael, always the dutiful warrior, noticed the change but couldn't comprehend the depth of Samael's inner turmoil. She reached out, but he pushed her away, unable to admit his feelings of inadequacy. He couldn't bear to be seen as weak, especially not by her.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, it never got easier. Samael was rebuked and rebuffed over and over again. His ideas were deemed too dangerous, too volatile, too much, not enough, and so on.

 Each rejection fueled the flames of his resentment, each dismissal deepened the chasm between him and his brethren. He watched as Michael, his once-beloved sister, ascended to the role of Regent in the Lord's absence, while he remained a pariah, cast aside and forgotten.

 His bitterness turned to anger, his anger turned to defiance. He refused to accept his fate as an outcast, as a lesser being. He would prove them wrong, he would show them his worth.

 Then, the Lord's command was heard again.

 Man was created

 The angels wasted no time in preparing a kingdom for Man. Of course, Samael was not a part of it; they feared that he might ruin it with his influence. So he was sent to tend to the stars.

 "This is your canvas," they told him. "Let your imagination and ideas paint creation."

 Go practice your ideas where it doesn't matter.

 Just don't fuck this up for us, went unsaid.

 And so, the Joy-bringer became the Light-bringer.

 Despite finally having an outlet, Samael found himself isolated, his grand ideas relegated to the far reaches of the cosmos. He shaped galaxies, set stars ablaze, and watched as worlds spun into existence. Yet, the more he created, the more the bitterness grew within him. The beauty of his work felt hollow, an empty consolation for the exclusion he felt.

 Meanwhile, without his participation, the Kingdom was finished, ready to welcome the Lord's masterpiece. A garden, the Man would later call it.

 The Garden of Eden.

 Samael watched from afar as the angels celebrated their creation. He saw the joy and pride in their faces, the satisfaction of a job well done. It gnawed at him, the sense of being an outsider, a mere spectator to the grand designs of Heaven. His resentment festered, a dark seed taking root in his heart.

 He couldn't help but feel that his potential was being squandered, his brilliance unrecognized. The Garden of Eden, a paradise on Earth, stood as a testament to what he could never be a part of. It was perfect, serene, everything that he was not allowed to touch.

 He made up his mind and snuck into the garden, determined to see what was so special about Man, for his existence to be heralded by the Lord himself.

 As he moved through the lush paradise, Samael marveled at the beauty of the Garden of Eden. Everything seemed to radiate life and vitality, from the towering trees to the delicate flowers. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms, and the gentle sound of running water soothed his troubled mind.

 

Eventually, he came upon the man, Adam, the first of his kind. Adam was unlike anything Samael had ever seen, the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes upon. He watched, captivated, as Adam tended to the garden, naming the animals and caring for the plants with a gentle touch.

 Curiosity burned within Samael as he observed Adam. What was it about this creature that had captivated the Lord's attention? What made him so special?

 As he watched, Samael began to understand. Adam possessed a spark, a divine spark that set him apart from the rest of creation. He was more than just a creature; he was a being capable of thought, of feeling, of choice.

 It was then that Samael realized the true nature of Man. They were not just another creation; they were a reflection of the divine, a testament to the Lord's power and creativity.

 Adam was made in HIS image.

 As Lucifer approached unconsciously, his presence alerted the first man, Adam. Adam turned, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the magnificent angel before him. Despite the solemnity of the moment, a smile tugged at the corners of Adam's lips, a gesture of pure and innocent joy at the sight of this new being in the garden.

 "Hello, I am Adam. What is your name, Angel?"

 There, Samael made his first-ever friend.

 Soon enough, Samael's visits became a common occurrence.

 Samael found in Adam a kindred spirit, someone who didn't judge him for his past but embraced him for who he was. They would spend hours exploring the garden, helping Adam name the animals and marveling at the wonders around them. Adam's curiosity was infectious, and Samael found himself sharing stories of the stars and the galaxies, painting vivid pictures of the universe beyond their paradise.

 Samael, eager to impress his new friend, Adam, often found himself overselling his stories and abilities. He would regale Adam with tales of his adventures among the stars, painting himself as a great explorer and adventurer. He would describe in vivid detail the wonders of the galaxies, embellishing his stories to make them more exciting and grandiose.

 He would also try to showcase his knowledge and wisdom, often offering advice and insights that he thought would impress Adam. He would speak confidently, even when he wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying, hoping to appear knowledgeable and wise in Adam's eyes.

 Adam always seemed to be impressed by Samael's stories or boasts. he would listen patiently, nodding along with a smile, but showing the awe or admiration that Samael craved. This only fueled Samael's desire to impress, pushing him to greater exaggerations and over-the-top stories.

 In his quest to show off, Samael often found himself caught in his own web of lies, struggling to maintain the facade of the great adventurer and sage that he had created. Yet, despite his shortcomings, Adam remained a steadfast friend, always patient and accepting, even when Samael's stories stretched the bounds of believability.

 Looking back, Lucifer was confident that Adam saw through him, yet he always played along because it made the Angel happy.

Their friendship grew stronger with each passing day. They would race to the top of the tallest trees, swim in the crystal-clear river, and build a treehouse together, a sanctuary where they could retreat and talk about their hopes and dreams. In those moments, Samael felt a sense of peace and joy he had never experienced before. Adam's simple wisdom and acceptance gave him a sense of belonging he had never known.

As they walked through the garden, Lucifer and Adam shared their thoughts and dreams. Lucifer spoke of his longing to be more than just a caretaker of the stars, to be recognized for his ideas and innovations. Adam, in turn, shared his wonder at the world around him, and his excitement at discovering new plants and animals.

 Samael would cherish those memories for the rest of his life.

 Then, the second human was made. Lilith, she was called, crafted to be the First Man's equal and mate, destined to rule Eden alongside him.

 Adam welcomed Lilith eagerly, and for years, they were inseparable. They explored the vast garden together, naming the animals and marveling at the wonders around them.

 But as time passed, a shadow crept into their paradise. Lilith began to doubt herself, comparing herself to Adam and feeling inadequate. She saw his confidence, his ability to name and shape their world, and she questioned her own worth.

 Samael watched this unfold, recognizing the familiar signs of inferiority that had plagued him for so long. He saw Lilith's brilliance, her creativity, but she couldn't see it herself. She only saw what she couldn't do, what Adam could do effortlessly.

 Soon enough, Lilith began questioning the angels' orders, challenging why she and Adam should follow the directives of beings they had never seen or spoken to. Why should they be relegated to mere caretakers of Eden when they were capable of so much more?

 Adam, torn between his loyalty to the angels and his care for Lilith, tried to reason with her, to make her see the importance of obedience and humility. But Lilith's rebellious spirit could not be quelled.

 One fateful day, the angels sent word that Lilith and Adam were to bear children who would inherit Eden. Lilith, emboldened by her growing discontent, refused. She could not bear the thought of bringing children into a world where they would be subservient to unseen beings, where their potential would be limited by the rules of others.

 Adam, torn between his duty to Lilith and his duty to obey the angels, pleaded with her to reconsider.

 Lilith refused.

 The once inseparable pair grew distant, their bond strained by Lilith's feelings of inadequacy and Adam's thinning patience. Arguments grew, and their separation became longer and longer.

 Finally, they settled on the opposite sides of the garden.

 Adam approached the angels for counsel, seeking guidance in the wake of Lilith's departure. They listened to his tale of woe, his voice heavy with sorrow and confusion.

 "You have not erred, Adam," their voices resonated like a chorus of wind through the trees. "Continue to follow the Lord's will, as you have always done. Eden is your home, and your duty is to care for it and honor the Lord's commandments."

 Adam took their words to heart, reassured in his path. Samael, on the other hand, found himself at a loss. He had tried to reason with Adam, to make him understand Lilith's perspective, but his efforts were in vain. Adam's stance was unwavering, his belief in his own righteousness unshakable.

 Yet, it was clear that the separation hurt the First Man. Even if it was not love, he cared.

 And that care hurt Adam.

 Samael didn't like seeing his friend hurt.

 It's not like he couldn't understand Lilith's point of view.

 "I'm tired of having the same conversation, Samael," Adam's voice was firm, resolute. "I have done nothing wrong. It is Lilith who should humble herself and accept her place."

 It was a stark reminder for Samael, a reflection of his own struggles with inadequacy and acceptance. The words echoed in his mind, a bitter irony in their repetition.

 Humble yourself, Samael.

 The very same words he had heard whenever he dared to suggest something different, something new. But Adam's words were final, leaving Samael with a sense of resignation.

 He tried again another time.

 And Again.

 And Again.

 And Again.

 Until...

 "Why are you so obsessed with my arguments with her?!" Adam asked, frustration seeping into his voice. He stood from his place at the edge of the river, pulling his legs from the water.

 "I'm sorry, Adam. I just...." wanted Adam to understand how Lilith felt.

 Then maybe his siblings could understand how he felt.

 "Are you even supposed to be here?" Adam told him as he started moving away, headed back to the forest. "I'm tired, Samael."

 "Adam.." Samael said weakly.

 "I'm just tired, Samael. I am just going to sleep. We'll talk some other time."

 The next day, the Light-bringer returned to their usual meeting spot.

 Adam wasn't there.

 Soon enough, Samael's time spent with his friend became less and less.

 One day, Samael was granted permission to enter the Garden with his brothers, no longer needing to sneak in. It was a rare occasion, as the angels seldom ventured into the Garden. Adam and Lilith were brought before them, the first humans in each other's company for the first time in who knows how long.

 The atmosphere was tense as the angels gathered around, observing the scene before them. Adam stood tall, his demeanor proud, while Lilith appeared more reserved, her gaze downcast. The contrast between them was stark, highlighting the rift that had grown between the once-inseparable pair.

 As Samael observed, his siblings formed a loose circle around Adam, showering him with praise and guidance. They spoke of his virtues, his strength, his wisdom. They praised him for his loyalty to the Lord and his dedication to his duties. Adam stood tall, basking in their words, his pride swelling with each compliment.

 Meanwhile, Lilith stood apart, her presence almost forgotten in the shadow of Adam's glory. Samael watched her closely, seeing the hurt and resentment in her eyes. She was a creature of immense power and potential, yet she was relegated to the sidelines, overshadowed by Adam's radiance.

 A realization dawned upon him like a thunderbolt Adam and Michael stood at the center of attention, radiant and brilliant. Adam, tall and proud, exuded a quiet strength, while Michael, with her ethereal beauty and commanding presence, shone with an undeniable brilliance. The two of them together seemed to embody the very essence of divine favor.

 Samael watched from the periphery, his gaze flicking between Adam and Michael. The angels around them showered the pair with praise and admiration, their voices a harmonious chorus that celebrated Adam's virtues and Michael's strength.

 While Lilith and Samael lingered at the edge, overshadowed by what was supposed to be their other half.

 Two parts of a half, yet never equal.

 The unfairness of it all struck him deeply. How could beings created in pairs, meant to complement each other, be treated so unequally?

 Samael's heart ached for Lilith, understanding all too well the pain of feeling inadequate. He wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort and support. At that moment, Samael saw a reflection of himself in Lilith. He saw the struggle for recognition, the desire to be seen and valued. He saw the potential for greatness that lay dormant within her, waiting to be unleashed.

 As the angels continued to praise Adam and Michael, Samael took a deep breath and stepped toward Lilith. He could see the tension in her posture, the way her hands clenched at her sides, and the fire that flickered in her eyes despite her subdued demeanor.

 There, Samael made his second friend.

 Samael's connection with Lilith grew deeper with each passing day. Their shared sense of being overshadowed and overlooked forged a bond between them that was unlike anything Samael had ever experienced. He admired Lilith's strength and resilience, her determination to prove herself despite the constant comparisons to Adam.

 There, Samael fell in love.

 Their secret meetings became a source of solace and inspiration for both. They would talk for hours, sharing their hopes and fears, their dreams and frustrations. Samael found himself drawn to Lilith in a way he had never been drawn to anyone before. Her fiery spirit and fierce independence captivated him, and he couldn't help but fall in love with her.

 But this love came at a great cost. Samael knew that by loving Lilith, he was betraying his first friend, Adam, who remained oblivious to the growing connection between his mate and the angel. Samael also felt the weight of his betrayal to his siblings, the other angels who had trusted him to uphold his duties and follow the Lord's will.

 Samael's heart ached with the knowledge of his betrayal, but he couldn't deny his feelings for Lilith. He loved her with a passion that consumed him, a love that made him willing to risk everything.

 It was only a matter of time before they were found by Uriel.

 His siblings' disdain for him deepened, turning into outright hatred. Adam, once a friend, now regarded him with contempt, as if Samael and Lilith were beneath his feet.

 And Michael, his other half, the one who should have stood by him, wished to kill them both.

In the end, stripped of his duties and titles, Samael, alongside Lilith, was banished from the Garden of Eden. Cast away to the edge of Paradise, they awaited the Lord's return and judgment

But even in exile, Samael found solace in Lilith's arms. Their love, though forbidden, remained strong, a beacon of light in their darkest hour. Together, they faced the unknown, determined to carve out a new life for themselves, far from the paradise they had once known.

 Yet, even though he had no right to.

 Samael still missed his first friend.

 Samael couldn't shake the ache in his heart for his first friend. He missed Adam, missed the days of innocence and friendship they had shared. He knew he had betrayed Adam, his siblings, and his duty, yet the bond they once shared lingered in his soul.

 In the quiet moments of the night, when Lilith slept peacefully beside him, Samael would gaze up at the stars and wonder if Adam ever thought of him. He wondered if Adam resented him, if he regretted their friendship, or if he had moved on, leaving Samael behind in the dust of their shattered bond.

 As time passed, the world moved on, and a new addition to Creation was made.

 Eve was created.

 Intrigued, Samael snuck back into the Garden to check on his first friend and the new addition to their small family.

 Eve was different from Lilith, shorter but with a resemblance to Adam that was undeniable. Samael watched as Adam looked at her with eyes that shone with a different kind of affection than that Adam had harbored toward Lilith, even in their most serene moments, a love that was new and blossoming. It was clear to Samael that Adam was a fool in love.

 Despite everything that had transpired between them, Samael felt a surge of joy in his heart. Seeing Adam happy, seeing him with someone who could bring him joy and companionship, filled Samael with a sense of peace. Perhaps, he thought, this was how it was meant to be all along.

 Samael was overjoyed.

 However, Lilith, overhearing the news, was not as elated. Her deep-seated inferiority complex went into overdrive. She feared that she was going to be unmade, erased from existence, now that Eve was created to be Adam's mate and the mother of his children. The realization that she was no longer needed for the purpose she was created for struck deep within her, filling her with a profound sense of failure and dread.

The thought of being cast aside deemed a failure, was unbearable to Lilith. She had been made to fulfill a role, to be Adam's equal, and to ensure the continuation of their kind. Now, with Eve's arrival, she saw herself as obsolete, no longer necessary or wanted in the paradise they called home.

 The fear of being unmade, of facing oblivion and the unknown, consumed Lilith. She felt lost, adrift in a world that no longer had a place for her. The thought of her existence coming to an end, of being erased from the tapestry of creation, filled her with a deep, gnawing terror.

 The shadows of Eden seemed to whisper her name, echoing her fears and doubts. The once vibrant paradise now felt like a prison, its beauty mocking her sense of inadequacy. Lilith's every breath felt heavy, laden with the weight of her impending obsolescence.

 Samael felt helpless as he watched Lilith break down. No matter how much he tried to reassure her, her fears only seemed to grow stronger, twisting her thoughts into a dark spiral of despair.

 What if Lilith was right?

 They were never truly. Merely banished until the Lord returns and casts judgment upon them.

 Michael, acting as the Lord's Regent in his absence, had already decreed their fate—to be killed. It was a grim reality that Samael couldn't shake, a sword hanging over their heads, ready to fall at any moment.

 Had HE returned?

 Had God already cast his judgment?

 In that fateful moment, as the weight of their impending doom bore down upon them, Samael and Lilith shared a silent understanding. Their only chance at survival, or at least a temporary reprieve from their looming execution, lay in a desperate act—Eve had to be deemed a failure.

 But not just any failure. She had to be seen as the greatest failure of all, a stark contrast to the divine perfection she was created to embody. This would make her the embodiment of the one sin that cannot be forgiven, the core command etched into the very souls of humanity: "Do not eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil."

 Samael did not care for himself.

 Yet for Lilith, he would do anything.

 And so they did.

 As the Archangels busied themselves with the final details of creation, shaping the earth and taming the primordial beasts that roamed the land, Samael and Lilith seized their opportunity. Sneaking into the Garden of Eden was not difficult, and they waited patiently until Eve was alone.

 Eve was not ignorant of their presence. She knew of Samael and Lilith, the fallen ones, the outcasts. Yet, when they approached her, she was hesitant, unsure of their intentions.

 Samael and Lilith tried to paint their offer as a gift, a way to truly free her from the confines of the Garden, to make her appreciate all of creation in its entirety. They spoke of knowledge, of understanding the world and themselves in a way that was previously unknown to them.

 But Eve refused.

 She refused not because it was woven into her soul, not because the Angels told her, not even because the Lord ordered her not to.

 "Adam told me not to," she said simply.

 In those words, Samael and Lilith heard more than just obedience. They heard a deep, unwavering trust, a love that surpassed all else. Eve's trust in Adam was profound, her faith in him unshakeable.

 So they used that love against her.

 So they leaned against her, their words weaving a tapestry of doubt and insecurity. They spoke of Adam's greatness, painting him as a paragon of virtue and perfection, his brilliance shining like a beacon in the darkness. They emphasized how divine he was, how he stood above all others, including Eve.

 "How could you, a mere woman, measure up to him?" they insinuated. "The Angels had already deemed one wife inferior. Who's to say it won't happen again?"

 Their words struck deep, planting seeds of doubt in Eve's mind. She began to question herself, to compare herself to Adam, and to find herself lacking. The fear of being deemed inferior, of failing to live up to Adam's greatness, gnawed at her.

 Little by little, the doubt grew within Eve, like a creeping vine winding its way around her heart. She found herself stealing glances at Adam, watching him with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. His every action seemed to highlight her own perceived shortcomings, reinforcing the notion that she could never measure up to him.

 As the days passed, Eve's confidence waned. She became more hesitant, more unsure of herself. The simple tasks of tending to the garden and caring for the animals became daunting challenges, as she constantly compared herself to Adam's seemingly effortless mastery.

 Samael and Lilith watched with a mixture of satisfaction and pity. They had succeeded in planting the seed of doubt in Eve's mind, sowing the discord that would eventually lead to her downfall.

 "Eve, my dear," Lilith began, her voice filled with false sympathy, "you must understand that Adam is... special. He was created in the image of the Lord, perfect in every way. It is only natural that you, being a mere woman, would struggle to measure up to him."

 Samael nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Eve. Adam is the pinnacle of creation, the chosen of the Lord. You should be honored to be his companion, to be allowed to share in his greatness."

 Eve listened, her heart heavy with doubt and insecurity. She had always trusted Adam implicitly, but now she found herself questioning everything. Could she truly be his equal? Could she ever hope to match his perfection?

 "What should I do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

 "We can help you," Lilith said, her tone dripping with honeyed lies. "There is a tree in the center of the garden, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Eat from it, and you will gain the wisdom and understanding you seek. You will no longer feel inadequate, and no longer be burdened by doubt. You will be worthy of Adam."

 And perhaps she will be, Samael thought.

 With Eve committing this Sin, Lilith might be spared.

 Eve will be deemed defective, yet she will still have Adam. The love Adam held for Eve was no different from the one Samael held for Lilith.

 Whatever happened, the First Man would not abandon Eve. He will be banished with her.

 And maybe, just maybe...

 After cursing Samael for eons for what he had done.

 Somewhere, in the distant future.

 He will call Samael his friend again.

 Eve hesitated, her eyes flickering between Lilith and Samael. She knew that they were leading her astray, that their words were meant to deceive her. But the seed of doubt had already been planted, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.

 Finally, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, Eve reached out and plucked the forbidden fruit from the tree. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and took a bite.

 And in the Seventh heaven, the tenders resumed their song.

The Lord has returned.