Chapter 31: The Celestial River
The Seraphim Council convenes once every twenty years, with every Seraph in attendance. As the discussions revolve around major matters concerning the angelic host, this gathering is, in the eyes of the angels, perhaps even more vital to their internal interests than an audience with the Divine.
The great doors were sealed shut by an invisible force, and Lucifer resumed the discussion on the topic that Adam had just interrupted; a solemn atmosphere once again settled over the council chamber.
"How many angels show signs of their wings turning gray?" he asked the Seraphim seated before him. Samael—the Archon of the Thrones and concurrently the Chief Judge of the Prison—was the first to answer.
"Almost every angel within the Prison of the Fifth Heaven."
"Is the same true for Asmodeus?" Lucifer asked in a low voice. Samael's reply brought him a measure of relief.
"No, the Cherubim fare somewhat better; Asmodeus remains just as he was before." Samael paused. "Your Highness, when do you intend to release him? He has been confined for so long that he surely realizes the error of his ways by now."
"We shall see," he replied. "Are there any other matters to report?"
"Among the angels whose wings have turned gray, the vast majority are those who have had contact with demons."
"That makes no sense. I've fought against Baal on several occasions," Michael interjected, spreading his six pristine white wings to demonstrate that he remained entirely unaffected.
"Those affected are predominantly angels of lower rank," Gabriel observed, gazing into the steaming tea cup before him. "Fortunately, a brief soak in the Lesser Sanctuary is sufficient to restore them."
"Yet it was never like this in the past," Metatron—the guardian of the Lesser Sanctuary—remarked with a frown. "Perhaps we have grown too reliant upon the Sanctuary."
"What does it matter? It was a gift bestowed upon us by the Divine; surely there can be nothing wrong with it," Beelzebub said with a yawn, speaking with an air of utter nonchalance. Lucifer immediately shot him a glare as sharp as a needle; Beelzebub instantly responded with a fawning smile.
"Oh, come now, Your Highness—have a heart! I'm absolutely exhausted; you have no idea how hectic things are in the Fourth Heaven right now."
The Divine had issued a decree to construct the Garden of Eden within the Fourth Heaven, and Beelzebub—as the administrator of the Solar Heaven—bore primary responsibility for the undertaking. "I haven't even had a chance to question you about this matter yet," Lucifer said, regarding him coolly. "I hear you've handed off the majority of your duties to Raphael?"
"It was Raphael who came to me of his own accord, saying he wanted to create a garden—one unlike any seen before—on the fourth day," Beelzebub hastily raised his hands in surrender. "Seeing how enthusiastic he was, how could I possibly turn him down?"
"More like you figured Raphael has a soft nature and is easy to push around," Michael scoffed sourly. As the Vice-Archangel of the Seraphim, he was crushed under the weight of official duties by His Highness every single day; he barely even had the time to feed his own griffin, Missy. At this rate, the beast would soon end up recognizing Adam as its master instead. Meanwhile, Beelzebub had landed himself such a capable subordinate that his days were now so leisurely they made Michael green with envy.
"Fine, let's just swap then!" Beelzebub retorted with a dismissive click of his tongue. Michael might be envious of him, but *he* was the one envious of Michael—after all, getting to spend every single day in the presence of the Archangel of the Seraphim was truly the ultimate dream of any angel!
"Nonsense! Our God holds the Human race in high esteem; none of you are to treat them with disdain," Lucifer chided. The two angels instantly fell silent, meek as frightened chicks. He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
"Don't think that simply dumping all your responsibilities onto Raphael settles the matter. You aren't Belial, after all."
The black-haired Seraph—who had been dragged into the conversation for no apparent reason—heard his name mentioned; he cracked open one eye from where he sat, then promptly closed it again.
*Whatever.*
Beelzebub and Michael stared at him, shedding simultaneous tears of envy. *Why* was Belial the only one who got to enjoy such preferential treatment?!
"I will report the matter regarding the 'Grey-Wings' to Our God personally. Metatron, you are to intensify the training of the newly created angels; the quality of our new recruits has been steadily declining of late."
"As you command, Your Highness," Metatron replied, bowing low. Lucifer gave a gentle nod, then turned his gaze toward the other Seraphim present. "Gabriel, step up your patrols of the First Heaven to guard against demonic incursions. While you're at it, have Lilith return early to report on her progress; the placement of the luminous ores in the Lunar Heaven is nearly complete—how long does she intend to stay there? Samael has already complained to me about it no fewer than three times. The administrative duties in the Martian Heaven are piling up like mountains, waiting for her return to be processed—Samael, you really ought to learn to handle your own paperwork every once in a while."
Under Gabriel's scrutinizing gaze, the Archon blushed and gave a light cough.
"Among all the Archons, Lilith possesses the finest literary flair."
The tough-as-nails Samael possessed formidable martial prowess but was hardly adept at clerical work. Moreover, his subordinates—figures such as Uriel and Ariel—were all angels who emulated his own style; in the past, Gabriel had to carve out time to assist him with his paperwork. Once Lilith was promoted to the rank of Archon, however, they promptly offloaded all their administrative duties onto her.
"Hmph." Gabriel turned his face away; he couldn't quite articulate why, but he felt a distinct sense of gloom settling in his heart.
"Lilith has already returned with me."
"That is good." Lucifer nodded, feigning ignorance of the subtle undercurrents swirling between the Archangel and the Archon, and turned his attention instead to the thoroughly dejected Beelzebub.
"God intends to fill Eden with fruit-bearing trees. Among the myriad species, the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil are the most precious and delicate; they must not be treated with any carelessness."
Angels possessed eternal lifespans, rendering the Tree of Life—to them—no more significant than a common roadside weed; furthermore, they had already received the power of wisdom directly from God Himself. Consequently, Beelzebub remained rather indifferent to the intrinsic value of these two trees and could not fathom why Lucifer placed such immense importance upon them. Nevertheless, since his superior was so deeply invested in the matter, he dared not treat it lightly.
"Understood. I shall personally oversee the transplantation process for both the Tree of Life and the Tree of Wisdom."
With the meeting concluded, the Seraphim bade one another farewell and dispersed. Beelzebub deliberately lingered behind; only after all his companions had departed did he make his own unhurried exit.
Ever since being unceremoniously expelled by Lucifer, Adam had been nursing a sullen mood. Now, he began to clamber upward along the pillars of the side hall's colonnade. Although he possessed no wings, his limbs were remarkably agile; in just two or three swift movements, he scaled a pillar to reach the rooftop, where he sat gazing into the distance at the ceaselessly rolling, surging golden clouds.
"So this is where you were! I've been searching high and low for you."
Suddenly, a hand rested upon his shoulder. Adam turned his head, met by the sight of a smiling face.
"Who are you?"
"Who I am matters little. I merely saw you sitting all alone atop the temple roof, looking terribly troubled." The golden-haired angel was strikingly handsome and fair; the upward curve of his lips gave him an air of immense warmth and approachability. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Adam stared at him blankly for a moment, then shook his head.
Adam did not yet understand the nature of wisdom; though born with the capacity to think, he did not truly grasp what "thinking" entailed. He simply held fast to the teachings his Father had imparted to him within the Great Holy Tower.
*To remember is to gain knowledge; to harbor grudges is only to invite sorrow. For a grudge is, in essence, the sum of all things ill.*
"My only wish for you is this: that you remain forever free of worry, forever free of sorrow."
Yet, when he asked his Father what exactly constituted "worry" or "sorrow," his Father replied that he need not concern himself with such matters—at least not yet.
Since his Father had deemed such knowledge unnecessary for him, Adam gave it no further thought. Although Lucifer's recent reprimand had left him feeling somewhat downcast, Lucifer was—aside from God Himself—the being he encountered most frequently; and he certainly had not forgotten the kindness the angel had shown him.
Seeing that Adam remained silent, Beelzebub did not take offense. He sat down beside the human, extended a hand, and conjured two vibrant red fruits out of thin air.
"Here, these are for you." He tossed one fruit to Adam, while popping the other into his own mouth.
Adam accepted the fruit the angel had offered him and, mimicking his companion's actions, took a bite.
A pure, sweet flavor instantly spread from his tongue, permeating all the way to his very heart.
"Delicious, isn't it?" Beelzebub watched with a look of smug satisfaction as the human devoured the fruit with unbridled gusto.
Adam nodded vigorously. His appetite—hitherto dormant—had suddenly awakened; unable to stop himself, he polished off the fruit in a matter of moments, and when it was gone, he lingered to lick the sweet juices from between his fingers, still yearning for more. "What is this? It's so delicious!"
Seeing him eat without any table manners—utterly devoid of grace or decorum—Beelzebub inwardly curled his lip in disdain.
"These are called fruits," he said, conjuring another golden-yellow fruit out of thin air and pressing it into Adam's hand.
When it came to the art of eating, no one could rival Beelzebub's expertise; the fruits he conjured were large and fragrant, instantly conquering Adam's newly formed stomach.
"You're amazing! You can conjure such delicious things out of thin air!" Adam gazed at Beelzebub in wide-eyed wonder. In his heart, the angel's status instantly surpassed that of Lucifer, ranking second only to the Creator God Himself.
Such is the pragmatic nature of humanity: in no time at all, they come to believe that the only things one must never let down are good food and the Divine.
Adam's flattery did nothing to improve the angel's impression of him; on the contrary, it merely revealed to him that humans had not been endowed by God with the power of transmutation—a realization that made him look down on Adam even more.
*And here I am, having to toil away building the Garden of Eden for this creature...* Thinking this, Beelzebub felt a mischievous impulse stir within him.
"That's nothing. I know of things even more delicious than this."
"What?!" The human's eyes lit up instantly; within those pale irises, a spark of light seemed to be hidden.
"Hmm..." Beelzebub feigned reluctance, and only after Adam's persistent questioning did he finally speak—albeit with a show of great hesitation.
"I'm only telling *you* this, mind you. Don't go telling anyone else."
Adam nodded, though inwardly he thought: *What 'anyone else'? I'm the only human here.*
"Do you know of the Celestial River?"
"Ah! The Celestial River!" Born bearing the expectations of the Divine, humans possess an innate yearning for the natural world. Adam had long been consumed by curiosity regarding mountains, rivers, and seas; while Heaven possessed no mountains, legends of the Celestial River certainly existed.
"I know about that!"
*If you actually knew about it, you wouldn't have been kicked out by His Highness!* Beelzebub chuckled inwardly, though his outward expression remained perfectly solemn. "Rumor has it that the water in the Milky Way is ten thousand times better than these fruits."
"You haven't tried it?" Adam asked, noticing the word "rumor."
Beelzebub hadn't expected this seemingly foolish human to be so perceptive. Angels were bound by the Seven Virtues, and lying was an evil forbidden in Heaven; only demons loved to lie.
But he wasn't lying, was he?
"Yes, the Milky Way is too far from here. I've only heard of it, but I've never tasted it," he sighed regretfully.
"It's alright! I'll set off to find the Milky Way right now and bring it back for you to drink."
Adam had a good impression of the angel who had given him the delicious fruit. Hearing the angel's disappointment, and knowing he was already curious about the Milky Way, he was now determined to find this legendary, best-tasting water.
"Really?" Beelzebub was practically laughing himself to death. What was the Milky Way? It was a celestial river formed by billions of star clusters gathered in the heavens, a ribbon of light shrouded in mist and clouds, stretching across the lunar sky. From the mortal realm, it appeared as such. This man, utterly ignorant, clutched his aching stomach and finally said.
"That Milky Way isn't easy to find," he had already warned. His stupidity wasn't entirely his fault.
"Leave it to me! I'll find it!" Adam patted his chest, exclaiming with boundless confidence.
(You provide the author Danmu's [Hebrew Mythology]: The arduous journey of a world's creation.)