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"Temper us in fire, and we grow stronger. When we suffer, we survive."

"All the stories are true."

(Cassandra Clare – "City of Heavenly Fire")

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With time passing on earth, the ideas of Jesus weren't forgotten, but they failed as well. Jachwe lost more of his hope every day. He hadn't expected this misuse of power from the ruling classes.

"Treat others as you would like others to treat you"- why could his humans not stick to this simple rule? He pondered over and over it, but couldn't solve the puzzle. Where did he get it wrong this time? They had the ability for empathy, for love, for phantasy and imagination. They were godlike in every possible way.

Wherefrom did they get the ability of cruelness and the need to suppress others? And more importantly, how could he prevent this from happening again the next time?

Maybe they really needed stricter laws and more severe punishment? He had to think about it, although he didn't like the idea at all. His eyes traveled irrevocably across the room to where Lucifer's hell thrived upon the black table.

In his world, people obeyed the rules and it looked like the cherub was winning. But could it be right to condemn every being who once took a wrong turn or made a wrong move forever? Every one of them had made ill choices when it came to creating worlds. They all would be burning in hellfire if that was just procedure. Even Gaia the inventor of Utopia had made wrong decisions before. Even she would have to be punished. No, Jachwe was convinced, Lucifer's concept was leading nowhere. It looked good for some time, but then his project turned over. Being cruel and unforgiving wasn't a god-like concept - but telling Luce was in vain. Jachwe had tried that and others had too. But who were they to listen to, when they too didn't get it right with their ideas of absolution and mercy.

The blinking of an orange button disturbed Jachwe's train of thoughts. He clicked to read the message. It was from Lucifer who smirked across the room.

"Some minutes ago they decapitated men for only having the wrong religion, and now this! How can they even know about sorcery? That so funnily resembles your last laughable attempt!- A world where every being was given magical abilities. I still rofl just from remembering it."

Jachwe quickly checked the part the message referred to. Some men were standing around a pyre on which a red-headed woman screamed in agony. They had declared and burned her as a witch. He had to confess his creation had entered a dark time. But he still hoped they would get over and out of it. Wasn't there supposed to be a silver lining? Old sayings usually hold a certain truth. For sure, they would reach the light at the end of this dark tunnel called the medieval times.

From the far end of the room, he could hear Lucifer bursting out in a fit of loud laughter, surely relishing the catastrophe in which Jachwe's previous world had ended. Cuddled around him were a group of his supporters, Lilith for sure, as well as Hel, Loki and Fenrir, Beliar with Hathor, and of course Odin with the black raven on his shoulder squeaking his ever- repeating "Quoth".

Jachwe forced his gaze away as calmly as he could. He bent down to type in a reply.

"I gave them something else this time! Something as powerful as magic or as our ability to create new worlds. I gave them the power of imagination! They must yet learn how to use it properly. It leads them to dark and dangerous places. Be patient! Wait and see! They will learn from their mistakes and improve! Just like we do!"

But secretly he was wondering how his humans could've gathered a glimpse of memory and remembrance of the failed ideas before them. Maybe he'd overseen something, given them too much insight. Giving them magic had failed terribly. Maybe providing them with the sense of imagination and memory was also not working the way he'd hoped. But hope died last. He was still trusting in his creation and he liked the idea of endless imagination even more than that of magic. They'd come around to a brighter area with time. They just had to.

Others were observing their dispute as well. Only a few seconds later the orange button surfaced again.

I have more wisdom than any other god: Loss is painful. Don't let them suffer!

It was from Isis, the goddess with her schen-ring and ankh-cross followed by the black kite who never left her side. She suffered constantly not only from overestimating herself. Just recently she'd lost her world to Osiris, who then lost it to Seth. They were a bunch of one kind toying around with the creations of each other. For outsiders, it wasn't clear if they were trying to help or rather manipulating one another.

But before Jachwe could form a reply, the orange button appeared again.

Loss isn't always what it looks like! Every winter is followed by a new spring! I believe in your World, Jach! They will grow better. They will find the light and the warmth they need. There will be a new resurrection.

The God smiled. He liked Ostara's world full of lushness and nature. There was so much harmony there- but every time she entered the god-like beings it all deteriorated quickly. Her last attempt had ended in one big blast of pollution and plastic cataclysm.

I think Luce is right. I prefer his fiery solution. But the fire in your world is also nice. Sorry, Jachwe. Haha.

The comments of Loki were quarrelsome as ever. Jachwe decided to best ignore him. And just as he did so, he could observe how Loki left the room. He usually hid away, waiting for the storms to pass in preference to endure a good argument. It was a pity, but considering his verbal skills quite understandable.

Thank you, Ostara! There will be a new resurrection! Look, the Enlightenment just started. From now on, everything will get better.

And for Isis he wrote:

Loss is painful but necessary. Just consider this: What happened to your beings before you created them? Were they inexistent? Did it hurt them? No! Just like death doesn't hurt mine. They just cease to exist. There are two eternities, one before and one after they live. One of them isn't better than the other- nor crueler. It's only cruel if you never got the chance to be born. Not death is painful, life is precious!

Jachwe had thought about this concept for ages. He was so curious to learn the opinion of his fellow gods and angels. Soon their comments started to blob in.

While they chatted to and fro someone else watched them as well.

Secretly and from above an alcove, observing carefully and curiously but deciding not to intervene - not yet. Maybe something good could evolve from their challenge. It was rather harmless. They'd done much worse in the past.

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"In the light, we read the inventions of others;

in the darkness, we invent our own stories."

(Alberto Manguel - "The Library at Night")

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