Paradise Left
A Story In The Adventures Of Abimelech
Silver baubles lined the walls of a narrow crypt. Half buried under encroaching overgrowth, as the moist soil erodes and draws in the stone structure.
Using a torch a one armed wanderer examined the walls of the ancient burial tombs.
Hidden in the boreal lands of the Vikings, he hoped to find the remnants of antediluvian civilizations. Some relics of Hyboria that would reveal the trajectory that mankind was heading towards.
Light flickered on the etched stone murals, depicting nothing of great importance. Most of it was made before the rise of the Roman Empire, detailing the the chronicles of a figure who tried to find the Gardens Of Paradise. A mythical place from where the first humans emerged, where creation began, and which mankind was forever banished for breaking the taboo laid forth by the Almighty.
Since then the story has been twisted, containing a ever dwindling amount of truth, till all that is left is the story deprived of its meaning. Along the wall was carved a great serpent, that began with his coiled tail, and stretched out, farther down the gloomy stretch of brick and mortar. Ornaments of great warriors lined the walls, and covered the sarcophaguses of the dead.
Following the length of the snake, he noticed the walls appeared less made by artisans, raw psammite is what the walls became, with the stone mural turning to pained cave drawings. Looking back he saw he was trapped by some enchantment, the way back had vanished and all he had left was to move onward.
Moving towards the ever lengthening darkness, it was a dismal eternity it seemed before he saw the sudden flash of light, as blue as the morning sky, after the dawn colors had faded. Gentle and soft, the air drew him closer as if it were as smooth as a raindrop merging with a stream. Carried away by the soft allure, the one armed man was about to peek his head out of the subterranean passage, but to his immediate right he caught sight of a familiar antagonistic eyes. Redder than blood from a virgin, with a set of large lips that parted to reveal a smile, of crooked, jagged teeth, more like fangs.
“Judas!” he cried, tossing his torch in the impish cripples face, who slapped it out as he lunged forward with his rapier in his swords han, and slashing after his agile prey with his dirk.
“Abimelech, I have followed you from league to league, through lands untouched by man, till I cut you off here. Prepare fällen engel to give me the rest of you.” the misshapen dwarf of a man lashed out with a fury of slashes with his blades. Dancing as he hopped in and out of strikes, he seemed to be having a fit from being possessed by a demon, than performing the artful movements of a dualist.
Getting enough distance, Abimelech drew the slithering black sword, with the blood red ruby in its hilt. Slashing out, the slicing sound it made as it whacked the stagnant air was that of a snakes hiss. However the rapier of his enemy was deft at deflecting such a wide strike, and he was able to hop to the side, and match blades as he charged forward, only for his dirk to slide between Abimelech’s ribs.
Feeling the skin itching touch of venom, dripping from the blade, he let out a weak gasp, as he felt a nearly paralyzing child run through his blood. Before he lost all strength, he poised his sword down, and plunged it into the chest of the wicked imp.
Judas screamed out, feeling the slicing force eviscerate his insides, as he leaked copious amounts of black sludge, he dislodged the sword as he stumbled back. Dropping his dirk that melted into black ichor, he felt the pain only the one armed man’s sword could deliver upon his form.
“Curse to you, and all those you come across. May my malice spite you till you breathe your last.” Judas speaking his ill-will spat upon Abimelech, hitting his face with his mucus wad, before leaving the cave, squealing madly in agony.
Picking up his sword, feeling his blood freeze around his numbing wound, he climbed out into the light, and found himself emerging from a cave on the side of a hill. Below was a heath of flora and brush he had not seen in so long. Taking on a ivory paleness, his usually ashy gray skin, became deathly, as his eyes grew heavy. Moving forward, he felt the rays of a the sun tough him, but not for long, as he felt as if he was being buried by mounds of ice and snow.
After letting out a crestfallen cry, he fell forward, and lost consciousness.
***
Denizens of the Gardens Of Paradise, the dwarves, elves, fairies, plants and animals gifted with speech watched came upon the nearly lifeless body of Abimelech. None knew of him, except for the elves who kept quiet, they cared not for him and saw him as a evil intruder onto their pristine domain.
“Leave him, let him be fed to the soil.” Azriel said, as he turned his eyes away from the one armed stranger.
“We should tell the Lady.” a emerald eye, bald dwarf told the others, ignoring the elf’s cold words.
“You dare!” Azriel pulled back his robes to show the sword at his belt, this frightened the dwarves and animals there, who backed away in fear.
“The Lady should know.” the dwarf said defiantly even if fear was evident in his eyes and trembling form.
“I speak for the Lady.” Azriel heatedly spoke, pursing his violet lips as his pale, white face contorted into a menacing expression.
“I will speak for myself.” a harmonizing voice of heavenly gentleness surprised them all, as if it suddenly came into existence out of their field of vision.
“Lady Lilith!” everyone exclaimed in surprise, seeing their matriarch outside of the castle grounds.
Azriel attempted to block the sight of the one armed man with his form, but the slender, towering fairy matron walked up to the elf, and placed her warmly, cold finger on his forehead. After pulling it back, she stabbed it at the forehead, making the elf wince back in pain, giving a audible gasp in pain, he brought a cloth to his forehead to stop the trickle of blood.
Wounded in pride and body, Azriel kept quiet, feeling ashamed for his misdeeds to the subject of his devoted love.
Kneeling down next to the one armed man, Lilith turned him over, as his face lay planted onto the ground. She grimace when she saw how sickly pale his face was, as he lifted the man’s tunic, she shuddered as she saw the black venom ooze from his whitening wound.
Brining her lips to the wound, before anyone had the nerve to object, she sucked out every ounce of poison from his body. Swallowing it, it seemed to dissipate in her body into nothingness.
Once again crimson blood flowed freely from the wound, a little too quickly by Lilith’s liking and so she bounded it with bandages made from her gown. The elves gasped at her ruining the gift they presented her for her birthday, but the others there did not mind so much, as she wasn’t ruining any of their gifts.
Sealing up the wound, she lifted the man in her arms, and carried him as tenderly as a child.
“Please, bring his sword back to the castle, he’ll need it once he awakens.”
Experts had handling all kinds of weapons, cursed or blessed, the dwarves bounded the serpentine, black sword in rolls of leather. The bald one noticing the ruby imbedded in the hilt, with a emblem of a black spider surrounding it.
“I have seen this sword before.” remarked the dwarf to his Lady. “But it was a straight blade, and was polished as if it were made carved from black marble.”
“Worry not.” Lady Lillith coed to her people. “Even if the sword may have changed, the wielder is still the same.”
Following their Lady, the denizens of the garden headed towards the hills towards the direction of the rising sun. Where on one of the tree covered hills of emerald stood the Castle Of Eden.
***
Abimelech stayed at the Healing House within the castle for quiet a time. First time he awakened with his full senses, he looked to his side, and saw in a large chair a woman looking over him as he slept.
Eyes of blue focused on his smoldering auburn, and they both felt as if they knew one another, even though they never met before.
“You’ve been asleep for many days.” the fairy said, her crystalline wings, wavering as she sat.
“I didn’t think I’d survive.” he spoke in a grating roughness from lack of water. He was thankful when his caretaker poured him a glass of the coolest, savory water he ever drank. “I thank you, for the water, and my life.”
“It has been sometime since we saw your kind in the Garden, you have never been harmed while your ancestors dwelled here, and you should not feel so now.” the fairy poured him more water, that Abimelech drank in ernest. “Perhaps you could stay here for a time, and if you choose not to leave, I would not object.”
There was a moment of consideration showing on his face, but a bitter resignation when he understood what that meant. “I cannot.”
“Why?” she asked, sounded wounded by his words.
“I am not so ignorant. To be here would make me restless, and this is a place for rest.” all around him he saw the unearthly beauty of the his surroundings. Stone walls that seem warm and inviting, and not imposing and cold. Summer breezes seem to flow endlessly in the air, even inside the castle walls, and the scent of innocence was in the air.
Pure and untainted, that made him feel the wickedness in his heart beg to be permitted to befoul.
“I understand.” obvious disappointment was in her trembling voice. “Would you stay here, for awhile, if not forever at least?”
“I cannot. If I am not needed—” he stood up from his bed, wincing in the light soreness from his side, “—then I must go.” Looking to his wound he noticed it was barely open, only a fingernails width deep, showing no blood.
“What is your name?” the fairy asked, sounding as curious as a child.
“I am Abimelech.” he told her as he dressed in his freshly laundered attire. Showing no embarrassment for his nudity, he did notice however that the fairy blushed at the sight of his manhood.
“I am Lilith of Eden, please tell me what has come of your arm? It looks as if it was a grievous wound.” her eyes shimmered with plaintive grief for the old wound.
“It was a wound inflicted upon me by a traitor. One who I fear stalks your domain.” his words brought a flicker of fear in Lilith’s eyes.
“No evil could trespass here…unless—” she stopped speaking for a moment as she rose from her seat and opened the window. “—...look.” she pointed out the window.
Curious, Abimelech went to the window and looked out at the wondrous view of bizarre, yet winsome plants and trees that flowed to smoothly sloping hillsides, and pristine valleys of rivers and greenery.
“Up there.” Lilith guided his gaze to the highest point in the garden. A lone hill that overlooked the castle, there was a twisted, gnarled tree. Its roots digging into the hill, despoiling the greenery surrounding it, that had become more savage in appearance. Appearing as if it were a tropical jungle, the climb looked dangerous, and he wasn’t sure but he felt the air of wickedness up on that rise. “That is the tree of knowledge. The source of original sin.”
“I see it…but why show me this?” Abimelech intended to leave but was drawn to Lilith and secretly hoped she had need of him, so he may stay by her side longer.
“Humans were expelled from this garden by the command of the Almighty, however the snake that tempted them was not, it was stricken of its limbs, and made into a venomous fiend to blight the Earth…however its lineage has spawned a new blight…the basilisk.”
Listening to her words intently, Abimelech held her hand as she spoke, her eyes looking into his longing for something she knew she couldn’t have.
“The basilisk has made its den under the Tree Of Knowledge. Its venom strengthens the trees, making its roots dig deeper into the hill it grows from, eventually it will change all of Eden…if you cannot stay from your own will, then I beg stay long enough to cure this evil.”
Tears flowed from hey eyes as she realized her selfishness, and whimpered into his tender breast.
“If you so ask.” he said gentle, as he held her.
Off to the far end of the hall, looking through the doorway, Azriel watched, his face embittered by jealousy.
***
Abimelech left that next morning towards the hill. An entourage of dwarves and elves followed him to the base of the hill. However only two would accompany him to slay the evil that had taken root in Paradise.
Glöinsif the bald dwarf with emerald eyes would accompany him, and Azriel the guardian of the garden. Lilith was there to see them off, her eyes closed, as she could not bear to see Abimelech head off into imperilment because of her desires.
Abimelech looked at her, feeling regret became a lead orb in his chest, however he didn’t want to show too much concern as he recognized the familiar look of envy in his elf companion’s eye. Clearly he had hatred for him, whether it was what he was, or he somehow sensed what he could do, he has yet to understand.
Without any words of ceremony, Abimelech ascended the hill, followed by his companions. No cheer rose from the deed, but a somber understanding that what was happening was not solely for their benefit. There was an unspoken bond between the one armed stranger and their Lady, which made the garden’s denizens sullen at what was happening. Eitherway, there would be a wound in Lilith’s heart that would never heal.
Despite her sorrow, she looked at her champion, climbing higher up, before she turned away in grief.
“You make her cry again, and I’ll end you rogue.” Azriel threatened, as they climbed the tendrils of roots, that fell from the side of the hills.
“Don’t be so murderous elf.” the dwarf warned. “Lady Lilith would die if anything happened to him, I can see it in her eyes.”
Hearing Glöinsif speak such a wounding truth, angered Azriel enough to kick the dwarf as he tried climbing. Whelping in pain, the dwarf dangled from a root, before Abimelech climbed down to crouch on the rock above him, and offer his one hand to help the dwarf ascend to safety.
Once both were safe on a outstretch of rock, Abimelech turned to give the elf a deathly stare, as he stood on a platform above them.
“Do that again, and your grave will be on this hill.”
The elf scoffed, but that cockiness turned into granite hatred, as he saw the one armed man put his hand on the grip of his sinister black sword.
“If I do so again, it will be against you.” to Azriel continued to climb upwards.
Both Abimelech and Glöinsif followed, cautious of the movements of their elf companion, who always kept a good distance from them, as they ascended.
***
A little over an hour and they reached the submit of the hill. Sturdy land was under their feet, despite the wild brush that scratched at their exposed skin. Before them, an a steady slope before them was the Tree Of Knowledge, a gnarled, extended, and outstretching hateful thing of sour bark, with foliage of shards of emerald glass.
Pointing at the hole under the tree, the dwarf hid behind Abimelech as he spoke to him. “There it is, the serpent’s lair…cautious, many warriors have climbed here before, and their bodies now feed the tree.” bitter scent of decomposing flesh hit them then, as if the hole under the tree seemed to exhale humid air.
Drawing his black serpentine sword, Abimelech was mildly surprised that Azriel drew his sword, which burst into a flash of golden flame.
“You know your sword won’t harm it.” the dwarf warned the elf.
“I don’t intend him to get all the Lady’s thanks to himself.” sneered the elf, as he drudged towards the tree.
“Is that the sweet smell of pride in the air?” spoke a hateful voice from above. “It co-mingles nicely with envy, it is a savory smell.” to the three companion’s shock, they saw in the tree, an impish man, whose teeth chewed ravenously at the fruit of the tree.
The rainbow fruit, was gnashed in his mouth, and its silver juices swallowed.
“You dare eat that forbidden fruit!” Azriel cursed at the imp who responded by throwing a half eaten fruit at him, which he evaporated with the flames of his sword.
“It is quite the delicacy.” smirked the imp. “I may take these back with me, use its seeds to plant many more such trees in the world of man.”
“Fiend!” this time the dwarf cried out, his hatred for such a miserable creature he couldn’t hide. “You would curse the world of man again with this empty fruit?”
“I’d curse a child in its mothers womb. I’d poison the fountains of life, and smear the bile of wretched disease into the mouth of the Creator if I could.” spitting out fruit chunks as he talked. The imp gathered a bustle of fruit, and leapt from the tree, and quickly leapt from ledge to ledge down the hillside.
“Stop him!” cried Azriel but it was too late, the basilisk was out of its den.
Alerted by the noise, its reptilian eyes got sight of the three trespasser, letting out a roaring hiss, its slender, land dragon form, lashed about, as it stretched out, encircling around the elf, dwarf, and Abimelech.
“Lady help us.” cringed the dwarf who was nearly struck by the poisonous claw of the snake.
Raising its head, at its entrapped prey, it hissed, but was whacked by the flame of Azriel's sword. The flames did nothing, but made it snarl in anger, and latch its fang filled mouth around the torso of the elf. Screaming in gurgling agony, Abimelech feeling a rush of fever charged forward, plunging the tip of his sword into the elongated neck of the scaly beast.
Letting go of the elf, the basilisk recoiled, as Azriel shivered from being injected by the green poison of the serpent monster. Feeling cold, he lifted away his toga revealing his torso having five deep puncture wounds, where the venom was injected. The dwarf out of concern put his lips to the wound and drew out the poison, spitting it out, he feared it would not be enough to save his life.
“Why are you doing this?” Azriel was confused, he did not understand why the dwarf would risk poisoning himself in an attempt save his life, after what he did to him before.
“I have no ill will to you, and besides that, Lilith will be quiet sad, you were always his favorite.” the dwarf continued to suck out the poison, drinking some to remove the lethal toxin, as the elf cried in remorse for his past misdeeds.
Abimelech however faced off against the spawn of the deceiver of eden, the basilisk was a fearsome creature, but at its core a coward, who tried to lash out, and retreat back to its lair. However, the sword that slashed at it was of a different make, not the kind they had in the Garden, but one of profound power, that slit through its hide of evil.
Hissing, and biting, it tried in vain to claw at Abimelech but he hid behind his sword, and would return any strike with heated vengeance. Desperate it lunged forward, its claws swiping toward as it fell, but then as it met the ground the basilisk shuddered and roared out in dismay. Something had struck it in the heart, and without any pause another icy thrust pierce through its body. Over and again, it tore up its insides, till it fell onto its back and in a convulsion of agony coiled up on itself, before it shuddered one last time, before succumbing to its wounds.
The poisonous blood that flowed from its wounds were drunk up by the roots of the Tree Of Knowledge, ignorantly the tree savored the poison, unaware it would mean its doom. Its roots pulled the basilisk’s body under itself, and drained from it, every bit of its essence, leaving only a dried, hollow husk.
However once it finished, the tree shook slightly before going perfectly still, and from its roots to the leaves on its branches it turned black. The fruit it still bore shriveled and fell to the ground as pebbles, and everything it was once, was no more. What stood on the hill was a stick, a pointed, spike that rose from the ground, and would slowly fade away in time.
Abimelech relieved his task was done, was drawn to a saddening sight by the cry of Azriel. In the elf’s arms he held the dwarf, who sucked out most of the poisoning, saving his life, but Glöinsif swallowed too much. Killed by the poison that ate away at his insides, the dwarf was stiff, his skin turning a bluish gray, as if he was turning into stone.
“He didn’t have to do that, not for me!” Azriel’s grief and remorse fell from his eyes in torrents of shame.
“No, he didn’t.” Abimelech helped Azriel to his feet, as he held onto the dwarf’s lifeless body, unwilling to let it go, even as they descended the hill. On the grass behind him he left his sword, its flames extinguished, never to be lifted by his hands again.
***
Lady Lilith laid Glöinsif to rest in the caves beneath the castle. Sealing the doors to the dwarf’s tomb by her enchanting touch, she had sadness in her eyes, as she looked around seeing only Azriel out of the three was there by her side. Healed from the poisoning, the elf had taken the modest clothes of servant of the realm, no longer willing to raise a sword against another living thing, for his sins.
Lilith forgave him for his sins, but truthfully she wasn’t as concerned as what happened to Abimelech. Those present at the funeral looked at her, as she was searching for any sight of the one armed man.
“What happened to him, Azriel? I didn’t see him return with him to the castle.” her words sounded hurt, so much so it hurt everyone there all the more.
“He left…didn’t say a thing.” hearing Azriel spoke those words made her cry, making a face wracked with sorrow, she fell to her knees, as a rain began to fall from above.
Far away, at the edge of Paradise, a one armed wanderer looked to the sky as rain fell from above. Licking raindrops that fell on his finger, he tasted the salty grimness of a broken heart.
No longer could he stay in Paradise, his presence would be as the forbidden fruit to Eve, a temptation he knew she couldn’t resist.
Traveling non-stop till Abimelech felt snow underfoot, and a rancid, frosty breeze across his face, then he knew he was back in the land of the Vikings. Away from Lilith, and her precious domain.
As the snowstorm deepened, Abimelech traveled on, looking for a place to wait out the storm.