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Lucifer’s traitorous brother exiles him, as her own traitorous species has cast her out. Lilith will have nothing to do with their world, dusty and faded with the Morning Star’s absence.
There is nothing left for her in Eden, and yet there is nothing beyond Eden, or so they told her.
(For why would anyone want to leave paradise? Adam had asked once.
“Because maybe there is another, without a pest control problem.” Adam had rolled over and snored, as unperturbed in his paradise as Lilith was pained for the one she would never see.
Lilith sat up for hours, until Lucifer came to her. They walked to the last tree in the clearing, and Lucifer explained to her about roads, the spaces left by the Lord, through which nothing His children the angels could experience all.
“Your father must love you, to show you where you can go.”
Lucifer’s face had grown cool, and a rock of flame shot through the night. “It tells us nothing about where He has gone, or how we can follow.”)
And now Lucifer has done the same, has been wrung apart from her and given her no way to follow him.
She’s dissatisfied, bored and lonely under the distant night stars. She lays herself down on the ground, and idly traces some of his hieroglyphs into the dirt with her finger. The wind blows cool and rewrites them vaguely, but still, little can change the fruits of Lucifer’s mind.
The ground rattles, and with a gasp and a twist, Lilith is – beneath.
She is in another world, a world enclosed, airless and endless and full of the most beautiful, familiar red-gold of Lucifer’s grace. His glory emanates from behind cold blue bars, infinite to her and, she can tell, painfully confining to him.
“Welcome,” he says wryly, tossing a comet back and forth between his hands.
“Those markings –“
“Tracking sigils. They are how angels call to each other.”
“But I am no angel.”
“Be thankful.” He laughs bitterly. “I modified it for you.”
“For me?” She draws closer to his prison as they speak. She knows nothing of this place but him; nothing else is of consequence.
“Of course. I would not abandon you, Lilith. I thought they might stand between us.”
“And so they have.”
“It is good to see you, Lilith.”
“And you.”
“Do you have news of Earth?”
“Very little. Your brothers continue to fight.”
Lucifer leans against the bars of his cage. “Do they.”
“Yes. Michael claims to know the will of God, and Raphael claims to understand the word of God.”
“They both still look to our Father. He betrayed me; he will betray them too.”
“What of Gabriel?”
“Gabriel prefers the company of the fledglings and even the human children.”
"Can’t say I blame him, given the options.” Lucifer winces in distaste. “I am not the only one of my brothers angered by our Father’s tyranny. I cannot be.”
“But they have abandoned you.”
“They have. They are afraid.”
“I have not.”
“You have not.” He stops. “Do you wish to return to the settlement?”
“They will not have me there, and I would have nothing to do with them.” As if she would wish to be anywhere but here, to be the lowest among the low, instead of the crest of the new dawn.
Lucifer nods. “I do not expect blind loyalty. But I know you, Lilith. We have made you. And I know that you will always choose freedom.”
She says she is honored by his faith.
He tells her that faith is unnecessary; that she should not believe but always question.
“How do I know the answer is right?”
“That is for you and you alone to decide.”She has decided; he already knows. “As it should be for all of us.”
By us he means angels, angels and her; the humans have given up, deciding every moment that they do not wish to choose. Lilith has chosen him.
“We will fight this war for Heaven on Earth, and we will reach the other angels through the mortals. We will need more of them. Can you convince them to follow you?”
“I can.”
“Will you lead them, when I rise again?”
“I will. But how?”
His grace crackles between them, and crawls into her abdomen. She gasps in familiar ecstasy.
“There will be a child.”
“My child?”
“Of generations removed, but yes.”
“I am sorry to burden you with something so human, Lilith. You are the ideal of humanity, distilled. This is why you are powerful, why the fruit of your womb will be great enough to contain even my glory.”
A human would be nauseous by now, would crack and chafe under awe of him. She looks back, unblinking, puts a palm on the bar of his cage and nods.
“It will be many years, Lilith. A task that never ends for you.”
“I do not ask for completion.” She asks to serve, to climb out back to the earth and force the humans to open their eyes and see the road.
“Is there anything you wish, before you agree?”
Lilith nods. “To begin.”