"My sons!" Father spoke. "It has not escaped my notice how your constant in-fighting and complete lack of initiative drives you to bicker eternally amongst yourselves. We are in a state of perpetual war with the pantheons of other lands, who ever seek to destroy and humiliate us. These petty grievances you so hold dear must be quelled."

It seems like Father does not appreciate our sibling rivalries. Ba'al telepathically spoke in my mind.

I stifled a smirk. If Father had caught such a thing, he would accuse me of not taking his assembly seriously.

No, I shot back. It seems the kings of the earth share that commonality with the princes of the gods. Perhaps they are correct in their boasts of being one of us among mortals.

Then it happened. Ba'al laughed.

My brother sat on his own throne, closest to Father. Immediately, the Great God turned his full attention onto Ba'al, the power and force of which drove hurricane-force winds to cut a swathe toward him.

As a storm god, Ba'al would have been more than able to dissipate the whirlwind. But not from Father. His powers where his sons were concerned were absolute.

The full force of Father's gaze struck Ba'al with enough power to raise him from his throne and throw him into the air. When he crashed onto the floor, the echo of his armor striking the stone thundered throughout the room.

In the complete silence and shock, it was deafening.

"So, child," Father said, his silky voice turbulent with annoyance. "Do you think that you are above such pettiness simply as you are the eldest of my children? Do you believe yourself above the rest in that you may jest at their expense in a matter that makes us a mockery in the eyes of foreign pantheons? Do you think it wise or funny that the other gods wait out the war simply to watch us fight so that we might destroy ourselves for them?"

Ba'al materialized himself to his feet, wiping the dust from his armor and hair. He braced himself as a defiant war general before he addressed Father.

"Nay, sire. I just—"

Father stood up, rising above his throne and growing his physical form in size until he could easily see over the second tier of his sons' thrones. Godly energy and unmitigated power cloaked him as bursts of lightning arced around his being. Father was not happy.

Shit.

"You just what, Ba'al? Laughed—in the face of the assembly, and at one of such magnitude, nonetheless! For what purpose?"

Ba'al did not flinch as Father seethed.

This was incredibly unlike him. Usually, Father held all the patience in the cosmos. And for his beloved General, he would overlook many things.

I supposed humor had fallen off of that list.

Father descended back in size until he was but a head taller than his eldest son. Moving closer, he placed his right hand on the side of Ba'al's face.

As Father looked through my brother's memories to see the cause of his outburst, his head snapped up, and his gaze fell into me with a menacing force.

Double shit.

In the next instant, Father had teleported me down in the center of the forum.

The burning light died a small amount in his eyes. "Yahweh," He spoke softly, but his voice carried far and wide so as to let all of my siblings know exactly why the meeting was interrupted. "I am disappointed. You, my youngest son, have such potential. It shames me to see it so wasted with your tricks and with mockery."

Of course, it did. Father so loved to make me feel the child he saw me as. Never the god that I was.

"Father, I—" I started.

"Do not speak! El Shaddai speaks, and you shall heed his words. You and your brother both."

I stepped back from Father as his eyes literally snapped fire with his anger. When he spoke of himself as the God of the Mountain like that, I knew that he no longer saw himself as our father, but as our king and lord. We had always found it most wise to keep Father as far estranged from his Shaddai epithet as possible.

Father turned away from me to return himself to his throne. As he sat, Ba'al unwillingly appeared to my right side, at Father's feet.

I could feel something pulling at my essence. I was unable to move or to utilize my powers in any way. Father's punishment for misbehavior. From what I could gather, Ba'al had been trapped in it as well.

"The purpose of this assembly," Father spoke. "Was to anoint you, my sons, with the fervor and power that is justly yours by birthright. Though you are gods, and as such hold power unimaginable to the mortals who worship us, you are not within your true scope."

Murmuring broke out above us. The other gods were obviously unsettled by this. It was as if Father was in such a mood as to detail to his children how none of us were acting as a god should and that none of us were worthy of our positions.

I was beginning to miss the lectures where Father spoke of the humans and their doings for what was years of human time. At least then, I was not being brandished as the fool in a king's court.

"It is time that I begin to see you as the gods of your stations, and as patrons of the humans who crawl upon Adamah for their survival. Were it not for these mortals and their worship which fuels our power, we would surely replace them upon their extinction. It is as I have warned you all for these countless millennia: without any worshipers to sustain our memory and power, the gods will be turned mortal."

Every god knew that. It was almost an innate calling within our very being that, from our creation, littered our thoughts every time we ventured into the human realm. Father said it was a decree made so by fate in order that there be a balance among us.

Gods without their mortals shall become mortal themselves, replacing them and face death upon the earth, should such a fate become the humans who source their power.

It was because of this that all gods required worship.

Without it, Father only knows. With it, however, war was but a breath away at any time. Though rare, it was even then far too often an occurrence.

My kind of any knows well how the gods go to war. It is not as the mortals do. When the gods aim to destroy one another, it is never directly. They are forbidden from such an action. It is through the masses of humans that worship us that the gods do battle. Each is a pawn by birth and a soldier if called upon. The more human worshipers on one side of the field, the stronger the god. It was an unfortunate event to be caught on the opposing side of such a war. It almost always ended with the death of that god.

We would never let the humans become aware of it, but we needed them as much as they needed us. We fed each other.

"The earth is vast, my sons. Stretching from the mountains to the south of Egypt, to those in the northern reaches of Greece. From the end of Mediterranean Sea at the Pillars of the World to the powerful currents of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers. This land and its inhabitants break into seventy peoples. As there are seventy sons of Elyon, I shall appoint one of you to lord over each piece of the earth, that you might gain worship and status beyond these halls and be known to the kings and servants of the world."

Father's words shocked me. We were to be apportioned the earth and its people? Surely he was aware that the vast majority of it was home to its own pantheons of gods that ruled over them. Egypt, Greece, Sumer, Akkad, Atlantis. They were all powerful within their own rights, and their gods were highly territorial. If we were to be so arrogant as to claim their land and the humans that lived there, a war would be inevitable.

I glanced over at Ba'al. The stunned gloss of his eyes turned to bloodlust and greed as he realized this as well. Father would send his sons to war with the other gods.

"Let it be known as the decree of El, father of the gods, that I give to you, my sons and princes of the gods, inheritance of the earth! I shall divide up all of mankind and set boundaries for the people of Adamah, in accordance with the number of the sons of Elohim."

Seventy lands, I thought. Seventy nations for the seventy sons of El. What was Father planning?

"Ba'al, my son." Father boomed, shaking my brother from his thoughts and turning his attention back to the Most High. "My eldest and heir. It is to you that I gift this land upon which our temples and altars now stand. As is fitting to your station, they are a hearty people as well you know. As such, they call already the name of their god in the rains of the storms and before the heat of battle. Lead them, my Rider on the Clouds. As you have so far led your siblings in our advance against pantheons of foreign gods, so shall you lead the humans and their kings to victory in their lives!"

Ba'al physically shivered as Father's praise rained down upon him. I could understand that. Just a few moments before, everyone here was afraid that Father would put him through a wall. And now, even as he stands as a condemned prisoner, Ba'al had been appointed rulership of the glorious and powerful lands of Canaan—our home.

Applause thundered from our brothers on El's proclamation.

I zoned out as Father continued down his list of divine children. Kothar, the god of crafts and smithing, was given the lands of Lower Egypt as his forge. Yom, god of the sea was given rule of the Greek island of Crete and its dominion over naval trade. Shahar and Shalim, the twin gods of dawn and dusk, were given control over the firmament of the sky and that of the movement of the sun and moon.

The last time I checked, Father, neither the firmament nor the celestial spheres within it were technically a part of the earth. But I was not going to argue, it simply meant there would be more land to divide between us. Just the same, I was not about to call Father out and attract his wrath for the second time.

Father continued his allotments and the praise of the god that he accompanied with it. My brother Chemosh was given the land of Moab on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea. There was not a large population of humans that far from civilization. But then again, Chemosh was a god of destruction and often was very volatile—perhaps it was best that he be distanced in the desert.

I awaited my name being called. As the lands filled, I became increasingly worried that I too would become isolated.

Looking again at my brother, Ba'al winked at me and offered a passing smile. He was one of the only gods that did not despise me; the only one that I had bonded with.

"Yahweh," Father said. His calling of my name and the realization that I had stopped listening made me jump in spite of myself.

I looked up at Father. His expression had turned kind again.

Perhaps, I hoped, I would be given a paradisiac land. Please, be Cyprus!

"My youngest son. My baby boy." Father continued, using names he knew embarrassed me. "To you, I give the land of Samaria. Commander of the armies of Heaven and god of the wind, your presence here will surely give pause to those Egyptian animals should they brave the desert and think themselves mighty enough to march on our lands. May your righteous anger burn in defense of our people and spread like wildfire as a wall to protect our territory."

I could not breathe as Father spoke.

He what? Samaria? No. No! Any land but that. Put me in the lands of Upper Egypt, in the hands of the Egyptian gods. Anywhere but there.

I looked again at my eldest brother, listless and dumbfounded.

Not simply because the people of Samaria were drunkards and known for violent outbursts. That was a common trait among mankind as it was. Drunk and disorderly I could deal with. I was a god of war after all. This was different.

Samaria was a small region, enclosed within the land of Canaan and the Mediterranean. Our people used it as an outpost to punish humans guilty of treason. After they were killed, their corpses were thrown into burning refuse dumps near the outskirts of their capital city.

Father then called the assembly session to a close. The rest of the gods dispersed—probably to explore their new homes.

I caught my breath again as Father released his power from Ba'al and myself.

We were alone with Father now. It was a rare moment and one which I craved most days.

But now…

Triple shit.

The Most High rose from his throne and brought himself down to our average height. As he approached us, he held his arms out and embraced one of us with each.

"Do not think me callous for the lands that I have appointed the two of you to. You will thrive best among one another as you always have."

Ba'al pulled away from Father to meet his eyes. "Is this as punishment for our outburst earlier?"

Father smiled at him. "Nay, it is not. Although your childish antics irritate me at times, I do this for the survival of our mortals. I would not be so cruel as to tear the two of you apart."

"But Father," I protested. "Surely you know how barbaric the people of Samaria are. Even if the humans there are warlike, they would never worship me. Chemosh would be celebrated at their very foundations. But I cannot—"

He cut me off with a stern raise of his hand. "You can and you will. You are the god of storms in a dry and arid land. Bring them comfort from their droughts and their praises will be as a torrent from the Mediterranean. As my warrior, you will know by your very nature how to stir them to your will. Let them kill something. Use your righteous anger to direct their warfare toward our borders. Yahweh, you will be the single god of that land and they will worship and revere you on a scale unmatched by any of my sons. I promise you this. Lead them, Yahweh. Show them that they are your people and that you are their god."

Father offered me a vaguely apologetic smile before he vanished, leaving Ba'al and me alone in the assembly room.

I brought myself to my throne, where I took my seat and threw my head backward and yelled in frustration.

Ba'al materialized in front of me.

His armor glinted in the reflective light of the ivory. A fitted tunic of scaled chainmail, Ba'al's armor was beautiful and terrifying even amongst the gods. Each gilded scale, thick and beveled, contained a single letter of the words that breathed the desire of murder into mortal minds. Together, it told a story of warfare and deceit; of power and struggle on a divine level—the story of a primordial war amongst the gods.

A light beard dusted Ba'al's face, contouring the rugged beauty of the fertility god that he was. His eyes shone with the mercurial hue of molten gold, giving off an eerie and hopeless gaze on the field of battle. Behind his back, he held his raven-like hair in a pair of loose braids that came to rest just beneath his shoulder blades.

I looked up at him. At all the scars that marred his deeply tanned face. "You worry too much." He told me. "I would not war with you, Yahweh. Besides, it is not as if I would actually kill you… painfully." Ba'al winked at me again.

No, never. Mercy was such a virtue to a war god.

Rising from my seat, I sighed deeply. "What are we waiting for then, brother?" I said, "Let us go survey our new battlefield."