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Armoni had heard this story before. Cain’s words would repeat themselves, for hours on end, between the old man’s long stretches of dreamless sleep. The angel of virtue’s fingers gingerly stopped their movement, the neat braid in his hair unfinished. And then his movements started again, when he realised what Cain was saying. Outside, the screams of a giant pierced through the fevered song of the village. They were praising the giants for tearing at Michael’s army, devouring their armour and making them flee. Surely there was another way. Armoni would get lost in his own thoughts, fondness seeping into his expression every time he remembered to look over at the old man in the bed who kept talking, as if this time might be the last time his voice would work again and he had so much to say and so little time to do so. He was dying - but he had been dying for far too long and his stories were no longer all new.
“I was in the caves,” Cain’s hoarse voice echoed from the pitiful bed his thin body was glued to. “I didn’t understand why we would be celebrating it. My birth, I mean. My own flesh and blood were happy to ignore that I was made of the same materials as themselves, that I existed and that, at some point, I must have been born.”
The newly added holes into the ceiling of the sprawling room made Cain crane his neck, to catch the glimpses of the burning sun, high up in the sky. It was summer and warm, but here in the caves there was respite, refuge - home.
“Here you are, darling,” he heard the voice of the devil echo, sweet and warm. The scent of lavender followed, as Satan made his way into the room. A dozen or so other demons were dutifully painting the walls, stringing flowers of all colours, but especially orange ones - Cain didn’t know their name, but they were his favourites and the devil had grown them close to home, down the face of the mountain and into the thick of the forest. For Cain. He had grown flowers that he was now decorating the room with, in preparation for the festivities about to take place.
“I still do not understand,” the child confessed, pushing out of his eyes his hair as Satan’s hand ran through it, an arm around his shoulders. He pressed his weight into the devil, closing his eyes for a moment, safety and warmth filling his chest to replace the breath he had let go of in a sigh.
“Must you?” the devil asked, soft and gentle, lips brushing his hair. It was getting long now, slipping past his forehead and obscuring his vision, tufts of it gathering in gentle curls against his nape and around his ears.
“I suppose not, Lucifer,” said the boy, his breath evening out as the devil cradled him, swaying with him to the sound of no music and yet in a rhythm that felt as though the devil was listening to the beat of his heart, slow and melodious.
“Come. We are to get you ready. Baal is waiting for you.” At the mention of the demon’s name, a warm, excited smile curled his lips and his heels hit the dusty ground, starting in a dizzying run through the caves. He may have gotten lost once upon a time, but now the drawings and the torches all guided him quite well. He was stumbling through the make-shift door of Lucifer’s room before he had the chance to take a second breath since he started running. And there he was, Baal, his protector, the demon who said he would teach him to fly when he were to grow wings.
“You’ll grow wings just like me one day,” Baal had said and, when he was younger, Cain believed it. He took those words and brought them close to his heart, made a home for them between his ribs, until he felt as if they might actually sprout inside of him, might give him red-black bat wings.
The devil was not far behind and, by the time he and Baal had settled in the bed, the lavender scent returned. Lucifer carried with him a small, velvet pouch, neatened with braided gold rope, exquisite and by far the most luxurious thing Cain had laid eyes on.
“Open it,” the devil said, his mouth the shape of a crescent moon, his lovely, sharp teeth on display.
“Me?” Cain asked, dumb, his hair falling into his eyes again, making him shake his head. The devil had reached a beautifully painted hand and pushed away tresses, before nodding.
“I’ll give you my present later,” Baal smiled and, to anyone else, he might have looked beastly and mean. To Cain, however, he reminded him of the softness of a deep voice telling him stories of the Earth and Heaven and even Eden as he fell asleep, covered by the demon’s shivering wings.
“Open it, Cain,” Lucifer smiled again and now handed over the pouch to his hands, no longer simply holding it for him. He touched the velvet carefully, undid the gold strands and let them adorn the simple tunic in his lap as he slowly tipped the inside of the pouch onto his expectant palm. A small breath snaked its way into his lungs, a soft gasp.
In his hands now there was a necklace, braided from silver and gold and even rose gold, jewels in colours he'd barely seen before falling off its silhouette. It was heavy, yet fine, like a piece of jewellery made by the most skilled hands on Earth or even Heaven.
“I had some of the more talented demons make it for you,” Lucifer started speaking again, watching the flicker of awe dance in Cain’s gaze, “but I chose the stones for you. This one,” the devil gently pressed a red, long nail against a delicate flower made of burning orange topaz, “I made myself,” he said, in a whisper, as if Cain were to keep that to himself - a secret between him and Satan.
“I love it,” Cain smiled and a mist came to his eyes that made the stones shine and blur and shine again through the crystal of his tears.
“Oh, I am glad,” Satan said and brought him to his bosom again, running his fingers through his hair like he had done earlier. Cain was not crying anymore - instead, excitement made him jump out of the arms of the devil and towards the mirrors lining the walls next to the wardrobes.
“Can you put it on?” Cain asked, lifting the necklace to his collarbones to admire it against his tan skin.
“ After we get ready,” Lucifer said, lifting himself from the bed with a movement so gracious one might have thought he still had wings and simply levitated out of it.
“Go wash first,” Baal said as he turned to him. Cain nodded and he went.
He left the necklace with Baal, the picture of such fine jewellery in the strong hands of the duke having been strange at first. ‘Baal deserves nice things as well,’ he thought as he walked. He washed with water from the stream and cleaned with perfumed oils with petals crushed in it and scrubbed his hair with salt from the sea. He smelled like earth, but better - he smelled rich and heavy and pregnant with the wonder of nature, yet refined. Cain had always thought the devil made such a fine thing out of Earth - gave it such lovely curves and peaks and filled every crevice of it with life and wonder. Cain sometimes was sad that Lucifer was not freely roaming the earth, savouring the delight of his creation. He was almost angry at God for Him gifting Earth to his parents, to those hateful, broken, damned humans, when Satan had taken such care to build such a beautiful world. It would be destroyed, Cain was sure - even in his young mind, he could glean the machinations of their Father and understand that Earth would not last.
For now, however, it was perfect, made in Lucifer’s image - fulsome and adorned and full of love and sin.
When he returned, he watched Baal pry himself away from the back of the devil. The demon’s fingers let go, but yearning still touched Lucifer. The devil, instead, was staring into a mirror, fiddling with an earring drooping with beautiful, red stones. The light from the torches around them danced in the crystal and made Lucifer’s smile brighter than anything else.
“My darling girl,” Lucifer said, warmly, coaxing closer. “We have to do something with your hair,” he pursed his lips, touching the damp tresses on his forehead.
“Braids?” Baal asked, gathering a change of clothes. Cain knew Baal and Satan shared a room most times.
“Mhm, yes… Maybe,” Lucifer hummed, his eyes so careful as they roamed over his childish face. He still carried the fat of youth - he would lose it in a few years’ time and he would grow into an awkward body, an imperfect body, so different from Adam and Eve’s own human forms. “Let’s see,” the devil smiled, ordering him to the foot of the bed where the demon could sit above him and run his fingers through his hair.
Cain did not always like his room. Sometimes the demons were loud. But Lucifer’s own room was quiet and so deep into the mountains that he swore sometimes he heard the rivers of lava Satan said were under the water mantle of the Earth.
“We’ll put flowers and gold in your hair,” the voice of the devil wafted over him. The smell of lavender was stronger now, renewed possibly in his absence by oils and powders. “You will be beautiful,” Lucifer whispered and kissed his damp head, making Cain tip his face up, to stare into the devil’s eyes. Cain did not want to say, but he thought that beside the devil, no other man or woman or creature on all of Earth and maybe Heaven indeed could look beautiful. It’s as if the mere presence of Lucifer demanded that all beauty rushed to cling to him and his warm, honey filled eyes, and his tender, lean, strong flesh, and his pure looking mouth.
Lucifer pushed his head back so he was now staring ahead, the drawings on the walls of the cave soft and evocative. His gaze traced the journey of a vine, dappled by small green leaves, falling into the plushness of a white flower opening to take in the vine. It seemed to breathe and unfurl with every passing moment, the striking gold of its pollen sitting in the arms of white, velvet-looking petals. He thought it was peculiar how most drawings and art in the caves depicted sin , yet here, in the quarters of the devil himself, it was flowers and love and skies that clung to the walls.
“Are you done?” Cain asked, yawning, reaching a hand to feel for one of the braids that Satan had set his hair in. It felt strange and neat, a pressure at his scalp like he’d never felt before. His own mother never touched his hair. That’s a lie - she must have… Must have touched his hair when she washed him. Didn’t she?
“Almost,” Lucifer spoke and then started humming, sweet and low, for an audience of one.
The bull-like demon entered before Cain could whine, carrying in his arms flowers. They looked the same as the ones the demons used to decorate the throne room, orange and yellow and white.
“Here we go,” Baal smiled and put the plush flowers and leaves and twigs onto the bed, next to Lucifer. The devil beckoned him closer with only the curl of a finger and Baal went, leaned in as if on an invisible rope. Satan kissed him softly, holding him there, suspended over the bed, for as long as he wanted, Baal’s muscles straining to lean into any warmth the devil would give him. Cain’s brow furrowed. Of all the demons, he liked Baal most and seeing him so easily driven to sadness by Lucifer sometimes made the boy resent his devil mother.
“Can we finish?” he whined, if only for Lucifer to release Baal from his wicked power.
“You are such an impatient little girl,” tutted the devil, his attention turning to Cain fully. Baal now sat in a chair across from him. He looked… Neat. Clean. He gave the demon a snicker, hiding it from the devil who started braiding flowers in his hair.
“What’s that for?” Baal asked, raising a strong eyebrow.
“You finally washed!” Cain laughed and tipped his head back, earning a hiss from Lucifer above him. “Sorry,” he giggled, apologising to Satan, rather than Baal and kept his head still as he continued watching Baal.
“So funny, you stinky boy,” Baal responded, a grin pulling at the corners of lips mouth, making his face kinder than it looked like when it aimlessly rested. ‘I wish you would smile more,’ Cain thought.
“Hello?” A sing-song voice echoed in the room and Baal’s smile dissipated into his stoic expression.
“Come in, Rosier,” Baal said calmly, his voice a rumble in his chest.
“Oh,” Rosier mouthed upon entering, before a timid smile rose to his lips. Behind him trailed Asmodeus, keeping a cool distance from where Cain and Lucifer sat. The former angel of fruit approached however, kissed Satan’s cheeks and brought the devil’s hand to his forehead to press against it. He had on his arm a small basket, weaved beautifully with weeping willow.
“For the birthday boy,” he said when he finished his quiet worship of the devil, uncovering the contents of the basket by taking off a cloth. “Plums, fresh. The first of the season, your season,” he said, revealing the plump flesh of the fruit, a haze of grey sitting on top of the bruised, purple-red skin.
“Thank you,” Cain said and he reached for Rosier to pull him down into a hug. The demon stumbled, laughter and a gasp escaping him. Cain hugged him tighter, feeling how the arms of the demon settled against his own back.
“You are welcome,” Rosier said in a sweet whisper against his cheek. “You look beautiful,” he added when he met Cain’s gaze.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Lucifer smiled, proud, making Cain feel as beautiful as the Earth, moulded by the hands of the devil.
“The most beautiful,” beamed Baal and rushed to pick him up, lifting him above the ground. A few petals fell off him, as a chuckle flew out of his chest.
“Rosier, help me dress him,” Lucifer offered. Cain heard the distant sound of golden canes rhythmically hitting the ground.
“Yes, of course,” Rosier said and then Cain was dressed and undressed, adorned with silks and velvet and jewelry until he felt doubly heavy. Lucifer had put red paint at the center of his lips as well. A kiss from the reddened fingerprint of the devil and he was ready, apparently.
When he saw himself, he smiled.
He looked like an earthly version of the devil standing behind him, with brown hair and green eyes in the stead of gold and honey. He looked like a meadow, flowers and gold thread growing in the depth of his brown tresses, framing his boyish face. His lips, rouged for the first time, looked like a beating heart when he spoke. He wore a green, silken tunic, framed in gold and tied around his body with jewelry with colourful stones.
The devil turned to Baal who passed on the necklace to put it around Cain’s neck.
For a moment, the boy thought he might cry. He was too old to cry any more, however. So he smiled, touched the precious stones the demons had found for him and made into a princely necklace and took in a breath full of admiration for himself.
“You could rule the Earth, darling,” the devil whispered in his ear and Cain believed it.
He would one day grow bat wings like Baal and rule over Earth and tend to it like Lucifer.
By the time they made their way back to the throne room, the moon was ruling the sky and the stars - angels lost in the eternity of the universe - were starting their slow dance across the sky. There was music and food and everything smelled like smoke and flowers. The demons were loud, but for once Cain didn’t mind. He laughed as they carried him in their arms and waved from his place, held aloft the crowds, to Baal and Lucifer. The devil sat on his throne, his leopards and his snake waiting for their turn to feel his touch. Baal was next to him, seemingly also waiting his turn. It did not come that night.
They ate and laughed at sinful jokes and the demons put on a fight for him especially and they celebrated him and his birth.
Satan said:
“Ten years ago.” Cain knew a year to be a turn of the Earth around its biggest star. “Ten years ago, I watched as Cain was born from flesh and covered in blood. A pained existence, abandoned by Him, thrown out of paradise,” a laugh, echoed by the demons, “and I knew… If God denied you Eden, I could make Earth into one for you.”
Satan smiled and raised a glass, before gingerly drinking. The demons waited, and then erupted in shouts and moans and singing, a delirious cacophony.
Cain thought of the words from earlier and smiled. He would fight God and rip his throat out with his teeth and then he would rule the Earth and there would be no Heaven sweeter than it and Lucifer would dance in the sun and taste the dew off leaves and swim in the oceans and make everything so beautiful. His Lucifer, his devil mother.
He received presents from all the dukes and Cain remembers asking why ‘present’. Baal had leaned in and said:
“To remind you that this moment, each moment as it comes, is a gift.” Baal smiled and Cain thought once again how he would like it if Baal had reason to smile every moment of every day.
The demons and even the devil, the best singer of them all, they all sang for him when Lucifer said it was officially the time of his birth. They sang a hymn and Lucifer led them in singing and he watched Rosier cry happy tears. He would later tell him about how Satan used to lead Heaven in worship and how, that night, he saw his dear friend happy again, singing and dancing and loving. A purer love than all , Rosier said, that of a parent to their child .
When the celebration settled down and the cave filled with smoke flowing copiously from the pipes of the demons, he laid on the floor with Baal, his flower decorated head resting on the demon’s shoulder. They watched the stars flicker through the holes in the cave’s ceiling. And Baal said, just before Cain fell asleep:
“Happy birthday, Cain.”
On the other side of Mount Hermon, Lucifer was eating a plum, watching the weak fire in the settlement that Adam and Eve shared. They had more children, more sons. They didn’t have Cain, though. He leaned against a tree and he felt Eve’s gaze even from afar, settling on him.
In the next hour and by the time Lucifer finished undoing his hair from its extravagant up-do, Eve’s heaving breaths slowly came into his awareness. The devil extended a hand, but Eve refused it, instead letting her body lean against the trunk of a tree.
“Your son is ten years old today, Eve,” the devil said and the woman kept looking at where her bare feet settled in the dirt. She wiggled her toes, blanketing them with earth. “You have nothing to say?” Lucifer asked, annoyance in his voice, pity in his gaze. Eve remained quiet, the passing shadow of sadness on her features. “I know you want to know how he is… You do, you wouldn’t come here like this,” he said, pointing at her malformed body, her heavy belly, “right? Is it Adam?” he spat, the name bitter on his lips even after years of not speaking it. “Fine,” Satan said, a sigh in his voice underneath the disgust.
“I will not come here anymore, Eve… You will not know of him and he will come back to you, when it’s time. If he comes back,” he said, voice distant as he started climbing the mountain. Lucifer couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Eve mutter a prayer to God.
‘He destroyed you and cursed you and your children and yet you crawl on your belly for Him, desperate to lay yourself at His feet, for His pleasure, for His taking.’ Lucifer strode faster, faster, the earth crunching beneath his feet. He missed his wings - he would never say it out loud. ‘I will raise Cain and he will destroy you and the Earth will be ours once more.’ His hair caught on branches as he ran, terror running in his blood. He could not lose one more… One more thing, one more person, one more part of himself.
He ran and didn’t stop until he stumbled through the caves, palms pushing against walls where the hands of countless demons and some of the first humans had been.
When he arrived into his room, he finally breathed.
He wanted to kiss Baal now. He regretted not doing it earlier.
In his plush bed was Cain, covered in blankets and still wearing all the jewels Satan gifted him, flowers wilting in his hair. He also now wore a crown which gave him horns, just like Satan’s - Baal had given it to him, his present for the boy. Lucifer scowled at him, wanted to admonish the demon for making the boy believe he was a demon like them. Now he wishes he could kiss Baal’s strong hands for making a crown for the future king of Earth.
He laid next to Cain, listening to his breath, watching the boy’s eyelashes flutter.
‘He looks so much like you,’ Lucifer thought and he couldn’t help it - his beautiful lips were now tainted with a smile of yearning and sorrow in equal measure. He sometimes thought of how it would be for them to raise Cain together - not him and Baal. Him and Michael. The devil and the prince, holding this human and teaching him how to be demon and angel and everything that they weren’t. Kind. Loving. Happy.
Lucifer wrapped Cain in an embrace, took in the scent of sea salt and flowers and flesh.
‘Do you think of me, Michael?’ the devil asked in the quiet of his own mind.
Yes , was the answer of his heart. He remembered, centuries ago, wanting to build a religion for the prince - he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted Michael here, fallen from his place next to the Father’s throne, broken away from Heaven, on Earth with him, like they had been so long ago. Taming the beasts and the trees with him, making new insects every day. And watching Cain grow.
And then his heart turned to stone again as he banished the name out of his mind.
He closed his eyes, pulled Cain closer to him. Not long now until this would end. Satan knew what was to come and, while Cain was to live for centuries more, he would not be his child for much longer. He would celebrate Cain’s every birthday. He would tell him he would rule the Earth.
He would let him go.
In the darkened room, Armoni watched as Cain finished his story, telling him about how the devil celebrated him every year. Until, of course, he left. He then fell into slumber, perhaps like he did all those centuries ago when the devil had held him. Armoni sighed, long having finished his braiding, and he got up to cover the old man with a blanket. His hair was getting long now. Perhaps Armoni would do him a kindness and he would braid his hair and put flowers in it, only for the old man to feel like he was ten years old again.
Outside, a fire started. He heard the sounds of metal armor and weapons, the war raging on.
It would soon be over, he was sure. Until then, he would keep watch. He took his seat again and started undoing his hair, only to braid it again once finished.