Hey look, I finished a fic!
Genesis was full of boring genealogies, that much Zelenin remembered vaguely from her prior attempt to read the Bible long ago. But she had a new perspective on these events - some of them may have happened, and so she read through them, taking breaks as she needed. When she reached the twenty second chapter of Genesis, she found a note tucked inside, folded neatly. It was written in Russian, ensuring she would be among the very few in the Mall able to read it. Whatever it was, it was something Mastema didn't want to reveal to just anyone. She set the thick book aside to read the long note, multiple pages tucked into one another.
---
Nadya, the account you are about to read is one of the very few that I considered hiding even from you. I do not even have the courage to relate it to you in person. I fear you will so despise me for it - though time and again you have proven yourself to have an angel's patience. Perhaps it is an unfounded fear, but it is a fear I feel nonetheless. If you wish to confront me over this later, then by all means do so.
As you read earlier in 18:17-33, our Lord seemed to have taken quite a liking to Abraham, so much so that He worried over his disapproval of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and did not instantly smite him when he, as suspected, protested against it. That confused me greatly, I admit. Though I had not been summoned by Him directly, Metatron, who was relaying the messages to Abraham, thought to do so, expecting the command for punishment to be given. I watched as the conversation went on, and not only was no action taken against him, but the Lord allowed it! He conceded! Metatron and I said nothing to one another about it, but the glance we shared confirmed our mutual confusion. We went about our duties without a word. Of course, as you know, the cities in question were destroyed in the end. (Were there truly not ten newborn children? But truthfully, it is not my place to speculate. Though, I admit, this apparent breach of His promise makes me feel more at ease about my own breaches of oath.) I was not the angel sent to do so.
But eventually, He came to realize the danger of conceding to a human's will so easily. He worried that Abraham was not truly faithful, or that he would become too proud. Should other humans learn of how easily Abraham argued with Him, how drastically would it weaken their worship? Too drastically, He feared. He must ensure Abraham knew his place as a human. In addition, He and the rest of the host distrusted me as well, for what I did to save Meshullam's life. He must have felt pressured; a human on one side capable of swaying Him, and an angel on the other willing to manipulate Him. He may lack understanding of many things, but He is not without His moments of cunning. He devised a way to test us both - by ordering me to devise a test for Abraham. Only the most absolute test of faith, He told me, would suffice.
The Nephilim and I observed for many days. Every suggestion we made was turned down. Temptations of flesh, money, and pride would not suffice. Each of those left room for doubt that Abraham was disloyal to our Lord. On the night that the last of these were turned down, I slept fitfully and only briefly. The Lord was growing impatient with me, and I knew without a doubt that I would face the threat of Falling should I fail to produce results. I already faced silent scorn from Him and my fellow angels alike. One misstep would be my undoing. My nerves would not allow me to sleep again. I stole away to Earth to watch Abraham, this task the only thing that mattered.
With all other sorts of tests denied, I knew it must be a test of sacrifice. But Abraham could replace everything we might ask him to give up. If we asked him to sever a limb for the Lord, he would. He would readily cope with any sort of impairment of his senses if we so asked on His behalf. By any human standard and even by my own, Abraham was already very faithful, even dangerously so.
Now that I look back on it with a clear mind, devoid of the panic that drove me that night, I realize He must have intended this: There was only one true solution. I had to tell him to give up a person, someone close to him. Dreading my own thoughts, I weighed my choices. Sarah was old. It was likely the two of them were already thinking about the other's deaths. But Isaac - he was still young.
But how could I, as a father myself, tell him to make this sacrifice? I knew, deep down, this was the answer my Lord sought. Perhaps I was aware on some level even then that I was being tested for my loyalty as much as Abraham.
I wrestled with my own emotions, sought some sort of loophole desperately as the minutes passed. Could I ask a man to kill his own son?
The minutes bled into hours. Desperate for His approval, I burned away my empathy for humanity then and there. Alone in the cold desert night, I thought of the atrocities man had committed, and I worked through my mind and obliterated every relation I imagined I had with them.
A calm, eerie after my emotional turmoil, had settled over me when I raised my eyes to the now-bright sky. Though I had stayed awake through the night, I delivered my suggestion to my Lord with composure.
He approved.
That night, after I had seen the Nephilim to sleep, I descended to give Abraham his test. Ever the gracious host and loyal to our kind to a fault, he invited me in for something to drink and a bed for the night. I declined, wanting no undue pleasantries with a child of man. I delivered the orders from the Lord with a calm mind. Looking back, it felt as if someone else entirely had spoken to him. I cannot even think back on the moment without feeling queasy at the task.
Abraham seemed conflicted for a moment. I no longer sympathized. At last, he nodded, murmured to himself about mysterious ways, and bade me farewell with a still-genuine smile even as he visibly fought tears.
Early the next morning, the Lord assigned Gabriel to follow me as, cloaked from human sight, we trailed Abraham's traveling party. She was silent, speaking to me only when necessary. She was watching me far more than necessary, and I quickly realized she had been assigned to do so. I had nothing to hide, I thought. Any notion of guilt had been buried.
We reached the mountain before they did, and Gabriel told me to wait at their point of arrival while she tended to another task. Alone, I watched them arrive, and followed Abraham and Isaac up the mountain. The exchange across 22:7-8 sends a chill down my spine when I read it still. I can hear their voices clearly. At the time, I felt nothing, and this only adds to my revulsion when I think back on it:
"Father?"
"Yes, my son?"
"We have everything for an offering except the lamb. Where is it?"
A pause, heavy with emotion. "God will provide one."
The memories are so powerful. Can you tell by my writing how my hand shook, Nadya? I left this note for several hours before returning to it.
On reaching the clearing, they went about the duties of forming an altar from the wood they brought, Isaac still in blissful ignorance - until his father turned on him, binding him with the rope he had bundled the wood with.
Gabriel appeared on the other side of the clearing, guiding a young ram along with a suggesting hymn (a variant of the very same you would learn as an angel). She caused it to catch its horns on the bushes, and quickly materialized before Abraham as he raised the knife.
The emotion in her voice as she told him to stop seemed foolish to me. All humans live and die. This would be another death. Who was I back then? What had I turned myself into?
But I had done it - I was safe. I never told the Nephilim what I did. It was only when they first read a printed Bible for themselves, many years later, that they learned. But we had grown distant by then, my satisfaction with my place continuing to wane - and you know where that ended.
Nadya, this was very difficult to write, and even more difficult to leave in this book's pages. I must wrap it quickly so I am not tempted to remove it.
I thank you for all you have done for me as I recover from my mistreatment. Whatever you decide after reading this, know that I will always appreciate the way you make me feel.
Always yours,
Mastema
---
Zelenin set the note down with a deep breath to calm herself. After a moment, she replaced it in the Bible to mark her place and stood. She needed to speak to Mastema.