Rise Of The Nephilim

Maxine and Zeda continued down the long corridor that seemed to slope deeper into Earth. Maxine tried her best not to make eye contact with the Epochs posted against the walls.

Zeda walked shoulder to shoulder with her. “I can’t wait for you to meet the others. You are the last one to arrive. And Father said that soon we will be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“The Reckoning.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s—” Zeda stopped, eyes suddenly still and wide, her face grim and colorless.

“Zeda,” Maxine called her name, but there was no response. Her body was frozen, almost lifeless.

“Yes, Father,” Zeda said nodding her head in agreement.

Maxine creased her brows. “Are you all right?”

Zeda snapped back to her jovial demeanor. “Yes . . . I’m good.”

“You were about to tell me about The Reckon―”

Cutting Maxine off, she said, “Oh, look, we are almost there!”

The light at the end of the corridor captured her attention. She followed Zeda’s lead and ran toward it, legs like stone, trying to balance on the ever-sloping ground. It opened to another vast cavern, a sharp spear-like light descending from above, casting ribbons of golden highlights on her face and hair. She looked up at the blue sky and white clouds, barely visible through the needle-eye opening at the top of the cave beneath Central Park. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the ocean of green covering the ground. There were tables laden with colorful flowers; bowls of fruit; and stone benches—some with occupants, all with white hair—spread out here and there.

Maxine felt a burst of air wash over her like a gentle breeze, plants dancing to its rhythm. She gasped at the sight, basking in the beauty that lay before her.

One of the brothers greeted them almost immediately.

“Zeda, I see that you have brought us our new sister.”

“Yes, this is―”

“I know who she is:Sarai,” he said, his hand out, his smile cold. “I’m Haman. Welcome.”

Maxine hesitated, staring down at his hand. There was still something gnawing at her, but she did not know what that something was.

The frustration in Haman’s eyes was clear. Maxine felt compelled to shake his hand. He squeezed her hand tightly, too tightly for a normal handshake. Glossy contempt replaced the glee in his eyes. Anger began to rise in her. She pulled her hand away, her eyes locked squarely on his.

“So, is this our new sister?” Gaden, a brother, approached with Silla, a sister, next to him.

“Yes!” Zeda said.

“Don’t pay any attention to Haman,” Gaden suggested. “He has been doing this to our newly arrived brothers and sisters for the last thousand years. I’m Gaden by the way, and this is our sister, Silla.”

Haman released a burst of laughter. “It works every time.” They all began to laugh.

The words “last thousand years” rang hollow in Maxine’s ears. She looked around the garden as though searching for someone.

Gaden took her by the hand. “Come and meet the others.” Zeda, Silla, and Haman followed not far behind.

As they walked deeper into the garden, toward the center, Maxine smiled at the sound of water flowing.

Zeda rushed, moving ahead of the others toward the small pond, fed by a cascading waterfall that had been carved naturally into the cave over thousands, maybe millions of years.

Maxine’s blood rushed through her, not out of fear or confusion this time, but rather out of exuberance. She released her hand from Gaden’s and filed in behind Zeda.

When they reached the pond, Maxine smiled back at the others, curiosity flowing in both directions. She admired the way they were dressed in white swim clothes as they idly sat at the edge of the pond. Others were bathing and floating on their backs, allowing the shaft of light from the sun beaming down through the opening to wash over them.

Gaden took her by the hand. “Welcome, sister.”

One of the women who’d been sitting by the pond approached her. “I’m Shian.”

Maxine smiled. “I’m—” She hesitated. She wanted to say her name, but the words would not leave her lips so easily. All eyes were focused on her, and silence filled the room.

“Sarai. I’m Sarai.” She said the name but had trouble believing it herself. She wondered why.

“You must be hungry,” Shian said. “Come, sister, let’s get something to eat; you’ll need your strength for later.”

Maxine looked suspiciously at the others.

“Later? What’s happening later?”

Zeda reached for her hand.

“We celebrate your birthday.”

Maxine smiled, accepting what she’d heard.

She was brought to one of the tables, where she sat with some of her new sisters and brothers. They ate fresh fruits, vegetables, nuts, and fish until she was unable to eat another morsel.

Though her memories of her past life had been erased, the pain of rejection and mockery remained. For the first time in her life, she felt calm and peaceful and felt too a sense of belonging and acceptance amongst her white-haired siblings. And all doubts disappeared.

Maxine’s life had ended.

Sarai’s life was just beginning.

However, that calm and peace were quickly broken when she felt the sting of Haman’s eyes on her as he threw a couple of grapes into his mouth.

“You know, I don’t recall Father ever holding a feast in my honor or for any one of us when we first arrived on the day of our eighteenth birthday,” he said.

The room was quiet. Maxine wasn’t sure of the right thing to say or do to cut through it. She only looked around as if she was a girl lost in space.

Gaden stood up. “Leave her alone, Haman,” he said. “It is not her choice; it is Father’s.”

Haman stood up immediately. “Who made you her protector?”

“Brother, it is not wise to provoke me.”

Haman smashed his fist down on the table. “I will do as I wish! Besides, who are you to tell me what to do?”

“Calm yourself, brother,” Silla suggested.

He walked over to Maxine, towering over her as she sat, his face red.

“One thousand years! I’ve waited one thousand years for you to arrive, just so that Father could think that we are ready! You are nothing more than a weak, pathetic mortal!”

Gaden approached him. “Then we are all weak and pathetic mortals as well, brother, since we are all Human as well as Angel. And besides, many of us have waited even longer.”

But Haman was determined to satisfy his thirst for hate. He reached for her throat. She pulled back instinctively. Frustrated, he reached again. She grabbed his hand and twisted it. He screamed out in agony and managed to wrestle his hand away as he stepped out of her reach. His eyes sharpened on her, his anger sharpening. He lunged. Before he could reach her, Gaden grabbed him by the hair and threw him across the courtyard. He landed hard but was up in a second—his eyes blazed.

He sprung to his feet and charged towards Gaden. Gaden pressed the palm of his hand out.

“Brother, we must stop this now! Save your anger for the Humans!”

Without warning, Āmand descended from the shadows above, landing between Gaden and Haman, his wings extended and rigid. He grabbed Haman by the neck, his eyes cold and fixed, lifting him from the ground and holding him aloft. Haman’s face had lost almost all its color, and his legs began to twitch.

Silla ran to his side.

“Father, please, don’t kill him! I beg of you, Father, don’t kill my brother!”

Guilt stirred inside of Maxine as if she were to blame. “Father,” she called him for the first time. “Father put him down!”

Everyone stared sharply at her in disbelief. No one commanded Āmand to do anything.

Āmand turned his head to face her. His eyes softened at the sound of her voice—it reminded him of the woman he’d once loved, the only Human he’d ever loved. The fact that she’d called him Father meant more to him than anything else could.

He pulled back his wings and released Haman’s nearly lifeless body to the ground.

With his hands at his back, he approached Maxine. “You are strong,” he said, referring to her attack on Haman. Breaking the limbs of Humans was one thing, but Haman was Nephilim and was strong and well trained.

Āmand paced in a circle, the click of his boots echoing in the silence. His children surrounded him, their eyes to the ground, all except for Maxine; her eyes were fixed on his every move and met his eyes when he looked at her.

“Today is a day for celebration,” he said. “Your youngest sister has come home, ending our time of waiting. Prepare yourselves within the hour!”

Āmand released his wings and flew up toward the top of the cave, where he disappeared again into the shadows.

Haman lay on the ground, coughing, blood streaming from his nose, Silla by his side. His chest rose and fell hard as he still struggled to breathe. Maxine felt the sharpness of their stares on her. Gaden walked over to her.

“Sarai, are you all right?”

She nodded yes, but it was clear that from now on, some would hate her. And it was also clear that she would need to be vigilant, always knowing her enemies and, likewise, her friends.