Birds flew to the western canyon outside of the city, beyond the brush line and past the well. Carrion was their repast. On days of profound heat the city's horses threw themselves into fits at the rank smell which swept in from the west. They only stopped from exhaustion, foam splotching the corners of their mouths.
Raucous sounds flowed from the corrupt temple to the gods. Blood flowed too, but only on particularly celebratory occasions. Its carvings depectied revelry and drunkeness as prayer, copulation as an act of festivity, and sacrifice as a divining weapon of the gods.
The people of the city had abandoned goodness in search of pleasure and fortune. Temple was no longer an act of prayer and praise, it was a retreat to more devilish activities of untold sins.
"Enoch." Balthamos whispered to the air, testing the name of his watch once again. He waited in the orchards until the boy would arrive. He'd watched for a week of human time now, constantly following the boy, but never within view. He was a good child, the son of Jared on the Seth line of man's creation. He obeyed his father and tended the earth. Both traits seemed promising to Balthamos. Still, he was only twenty-three, and the early sons of man lived for centuries.
The boy approached, dark skinned and dark hair cut at the shoulders, he strode tall and strong carrying two large bundles under his arms. Balthamos waited until he laid the bundles under the pomegranate trees.
"Enoch." He spoke. The boy spun in place putting up a little cloud of dirt.
"Someone there?" His native tongue was strange, but Balthamos had learned it easily enough. "If you are here to rape these fruits, know you will find no mercy when you are caught." He paused and looked around furtively, ducking his head into the next aisle of greenery. "But," he resumed, "if you are hungry...you are welcome in our house. My father will lay place for you." Speaking his peace he seemed content and gave one last glance in between the trunks before bending down to untie the sacks he'd carried.
He offers food to the hungry thief, Balthamos thrilled. This is truly a son of Seth's line.
After the expulsion of man from the garden of Eden, two sons were born to Adam: Cain and Able. Evil collected its conscious early after the Fall and Cain slew his brother and denied The Authority. Adam had another son, Seth. And while Seth's sons and Cain's daughters married, this particular lined had stayed pure, untainted.
"Enoch." Balthamos took form near the tree line. The boy noticed and turned to face him.
"Mercy!" the boy cried and took knee before the angel, "Bene Elim, Holy one."
"Enoch, The Authority has taken interest in you." He waited for response, but there was none. Enoch burned to speak, yet would not dare. He would sooner end his life than stumble into the words of the voice of The Authority. "Your heritage has done well for you and your upbringing is one of purity. The Authority sees you have the ability for greatness, young one. He wishes me to bring you hope and guidance." the boy still did not speak. He barely breathed, holding his position on his knees. "My name is Balthamos," the angel continued, "and I have been sent to aide you in your path toward holiness."
"Balthamos..." the boy's lips trembled, he inched his hands across the ground. Slowly he tilted his head forward and up toward the angel. "Balthamos," he repeated. The light stabbed his eyes as he took in the angel's form. Brilliance and color, light from inside heating up the being in front of him. Glory in formation, the nearness of Heaven! His trembling arms gave out and he splayed forward onto his chin. "Forgive me! Forgive me!" he cried. "I am not worthy to behold you with my eyes! I am human and I am weak! Forgive me!" He pulled his dusty form back into a kneel and averted his eyes again.
"Child," Balthamos smiled kindly and reached down to touch the boy's head. "God has such deep love for you. As I serve Him so I have been sent to serve you. Take no fear in my presence, for I am to be your safety. We walk together now."