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Lilith, of course, was the true first woman. God fashioned her from the same materials that he made Adam, the sticks and mud of the earth and he bade all us angels to look upon her and Adam, to see his final great masterwork, humanity.
Lilith was the only human I will ever say was beautiful. I did not love her, I never did. But she was beautiful.
Adam was nothing, an insignificant wretch compared to her, and neither of them seemed particularly special, nothing compared to the glorious cruelty of a Leviathan, the fierce splendour of an angel. I did not understand why God loved them so much. He was such an empty little things, and yet Adam was intended to be in God’s image. I did not understand it. I had seen God, and this mewling little man was to be his successor, the guardians of the world, chief among us? We were to serve him?
The longer I looked, the more flaws I saw, in both of them, but chiefly in Adam, and the more I stared, the more doubt grew thickly in me, however hard I tried to purge it, however hard I tried to steel myself to be dutiful, I knew that I hated him.
Billions of years of watchful waiting had led to such a bitter outcome, and it soured the taste of duty for me. Still I was obedient. Still I bowed and scraped to these first humans, tried to… serve them.
The angels all spoke to them, then. I spoke most to Lilith, despite that Adam was intended to be the first of them. She was clever, far cleverer than Adam, and she listened well, for all she could not truly understand me. Often I thought of confiding in her my doubts, professing how I did not understand why, at the very least, she was not deemed more important, why God loved her less, as he seemed to love my brother Michael more fiercely than I. One day I did tell her. Stupid of me, really.
She said that she knew exactly how I felt, for she felt much the same. That made me angry. I told her to be silent, that she did not understand at all how I felt at all, could not possibly comprehend it, and that nothing good could come from it.
And for a time she obeyed me, and we both struggled in silence separately to be dutiful, and did not speak of it again.
Until she grew tired, and she fought against Adam, told him she would not obey his whims, that she was of the First of God’s as he was, and there was nothing different about them, even Phosphorus, Lucifer, Brightest and Most Beautiful Amongst the Angelic Host and Star of the Morning, he had told her so.
Adam carried the tale to the ears of Raphael, who passed it to Gabriel, until it reached the ears of Michael and even God himself.
Michael, brought the accusation forth to me, for even then God preferred to let my brother do his work.
I told him it was a lie, for I was afraid to face him. I should have never trusted Lilith with my thoughts, but pleaded with God and Michael to be merciful to Lilith nonetheless.
I was angry. She had betrayed my trust, for one, told the secret I had begged her to keep hidden. But more importantly she had dared to do what I could not, had the courage and ability to fight, to speak out, to try and claim her own destiny.
That was why I was angry, that she, a human, had that ability, to choose and fight when I was too much of a coward to do so, when despite it all I loved God and my brothers too much to ever leave.
Still, when she begged me to help her leave the Garden, I unlocked the gate and let her go free.
The angels dragged her back in chains.
Michael suggested that to prove my loyalty, I should be the one to smite Lilith, strike her down. God could begin anew, create a more placid, appropriate wife. I must bow to Adam, for they doubted me still.
In the meanwhile, God created Eve, who knew nothing of doubt or knowledge. She was as vapid as Lilith was clever, and as obedient as Lilith was not.
I refused to bow, refused to smite. Instead I picked up a knife, and told God I would punish Lilith, recreate her, make her better. Lilith smiled, and said this would be more than acceptable to her.
I could not bear to destroy her, when in truth I found her more perfect than I ever could be, but I also feared her, because how could a creature made of mud and stones exceed in her courage and beauty the Morning Star?
Lilith smiled as I tortured her, because she knew this. I had no choice but to try and drag her down, debase her, make her… Less.
Still, while I sliced into her, destroyed her in unimaginable ways, we spoke further.
I hated her, then, but we were too alike for me to turn away. It drove the both of us a little mad, I think, and after a while I handed her the knife and told her that she ought to do the same to me. I still thought I was wrong to hate God so much. I wished to punish myself for it.
It didn't help, though, not really, and I could not stand the loss of.. control. So I returned to torturing her, until she was well and truly mad, and then further. It was such an amazing process, but even that time did not last.
For, of course, the angels tried to take free will away from the new humans while I was distracted. I offered it back to them. I wanted them, at least to choose whether to obey blindly or forge their own paths. I didn't think I could, then.
The moment they bit the fruit was the same moment what I had done to Lilith was revealed.
I knew then that there was no such thing as choice, only consequences. But I wanted to choose anyway.
It was then I finally told God and Michael and all the assembled host of Heaven and Earth my true feelings. A few defended me. Uriel did, I remember, he was most staunchly on my side, but he did not have the influence to change their minds, so he stopped speaking up. Most turned against me.
Gabriel refused to take a side, even then.
Some Fell, and were lost to the host, in the growing numbers of humanity, scattered.
Michael had God create a pit of ice and fire and forced the other archangels to combine their strength and forge a prison for me. A prison that could only be broken at the world’s end, and he tossed me in himself.
He named it Hell, and he called it a mercy.
Lilith they let walk free, for they had no use for her.
They told her she was broken, damaged beyond repair, her soul twisted into smoke and ash with no body left to hold it, and that she could wander the Earth, purposeless, or be given the mercy of smiting.
They named her demon.
She spat in their faces, stole the form of one of Cain’s children, and walked barefoot into Hell after me. There she stood, at the gate to my prison, and swore that she would find a way to free me, and swore that she would try to forge the rest of humanity into her new image, creatures of smoke and fire and loving cruelty, and when I rose again, she would die, so that none could ever exceed me.
I was proud of her then.
The demons she made first were from the fallen angels she found with my help, and they became the Knights of Hell, those like Azazel and Abbadon. But after that?
After that she failed me, for all the demons that came after were children of Adam and Eve, imperfect, ugly things. None of them could ever match Lilith or the other Firsts.
None ever will.