The night air was cold. Unforgiving.
Lilith lay curled beneath the twisted arms of an ancient tree, her body trembling as the wind ghosted over her bare skin. Her tattered dress did little to keep her warm, the once soft fabric now worn thin from her time outside Eden's walls. The earth beneath her was hard, uneven—sharp twigs digging into her back, damp leaves clinging to her skin.
She had never had to sleep like this before.
Back in Eden, she had known warmth, comfort. A bed of soft grass under the shade of the great tree where she and Adam would rest after their long days. Even when she had been miserable there, at least she had never been cold.
Now?
Now, she was alone.
Lilith shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make her muscles ache, but every movement just made her more aware of how exposed she was. She pulled her legs closer, hugging herself as she looked up at the night sky.
The stars twinkled above, scattered like tiny lanterns across a sea of endless darkness. In Eden, she had loved to gaze at them, their light a comfort, a reminder that there was something greater beyond the garden's boundaries. But here, beyond the safety of the paradise she had left behind, they seemed distant. Uncaring.
Everything felt different now.
She should have been celebrating. She had won. The seraphim thought she was dead. No more threats. No more pressure. No more being treated as lesser. She was free.
So why did she feel so... small?
The chill nipped at her skin, and she swallowed down the creeping dread clawing at her throat. Her stomach growled, the ache of hunger setting in. She had no food. No shelter. No plan.
Freedom, as sweet as it had seemed, was terrifying.
Her breath hitched as she bit down on her lip, trying to keep her thoughts from spiraling. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't break. She had left Eden for a reason. She had made her choice. She wasn't going to regret it now.
But...
She was tired.
And cold.
And alone.
Then, she remembered.
Samael.
"I need to go back. But... if you ever need me, I'll find you. I promise."
His words echoed in her mind, soft yet certain.
A promise.
Lilith hesitated. She had never prayed before. Not to God. Not to anyone. It felt strange—like she was reaching out into the void, hoping something would answer back.
But she had nothing else left.
So, she took a slow breath, pressing her hands together, her fingers trembling slightly. She closed her eyes, focusing on the one name that had come to mean hope to her.
"Samael," she whispered into the quiet of the night.
The wind stirred slightly, rustling the leaves around her.
"I don't know if you can hear me," she continued, her voice barely above a breath. "But I need you."
A lump formed in her throat, but she pushed through it.
"I don't know what to do now. I thought I had everything figured out, but... I don't. I'm cold, I'm hungry, and I have nowhere to go. I didn't think it would be this hard."
She inhaled shakily, staring at her hands, clasped together tightly in the dim glow of the moon.
"You said you'd find me if I needed you. So... here I am. Needing you."
Her voice wavered, but her resolve held firm.
"Please, Samael... come find me."
She opened her eyes, her breath fogging in the cold night air.
Now... all she had to do was wait.
———————————————————————
Samael flew swiftly through the quiet expanse of Heaven, his mind fixed solely on his destination. The gentle glow of celestial light illuminated his path, casting soft golden hues along the grand marble structures of the Celestial Hall. He kept his focus ahead, his wings beating steadily, determination guiding his every movement.
Lilith needed him.
Yet, just as he neared the entrance, a familiar voice caught his attention.
"Ah, Samael," Uriel greeted, turning from her conversation partner. Her warm amber gaze settled on him, her tone light and friendly.
Samael instinctively slowed, hovering just slightly before settling onto the cloud-like flooring. "Uriel," he greeted politely, nodding to her before realizing who she had been speaking with.
Sera.
His body tensed.
Sera stood beside Uriel, her expression unreadable yet tinged with something cautious, almost hesitant. She regarded him for a moment before offering a quiet, "Hello, Samael."
He hesitated.
A part of him told him to ignore her—to just move past her and leave before anything could be said. But his ingrained politeness won over.
"...Hey."
His voice lacked warmth. He kept his eyes trained on Uriel rather than Sera, not wanting to meet the gaze of someone who had already let him down too many times.
Uriel, seemingly unaware of the underlying tension, smiled softly. "It's good to see you out and about. How have you been? And where are you off to in such a hurry?"
Samael forced an easygoing smile, scratching the back of his head as he thought quickly. "Oh, you know—just running some errands for Triel." He waved his hand dismissively, adding, "She's been on me about finishing something, and I really just want to get it done as soon as possible."
Uriel chuckled. "That does sound like Triel. You two have always been close." She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "She's like an older sister to you... maybe even a mother figure."
Samael felt his stomach twist.
He stiffened slightly, his forced smile faltering as he risked a glance at Sera.
She, too, had tensed, her fingers subtly curling into her palm. Her face remained still, but he could see the way her shoulders squared, how her breath hitched ever so slightly.
A mother figure.
The words hung in the air, awkward and unspoken between them.
Once upon a time, that was what she had been to him. Someone to look up to, someone he admired. Someone who should have protected him.
But she hadn't.
Samael shifted, eager to escape the sudden heaviness that lingered between them. "Anyway," he said quickly, "I should probably get going. Don't want to keep her waiting."
Before he could lift off, Sera finally spoke.
"Samael."
He stopped mid-motion, not turning fully toward her but still pausing long enough for her to continue.
"Will you be at the memorial tomorrow?"
Her voice was composed, careful, as if bracing for his response.
Samael's wings twitched slightly. "...Yeah. I will."
He swallowed, his expression darkening slightly as he added, "I cared for Lilith, too."
His voice was quieter now, almost a mutter. But as he turned away and prepared to leave, a final thought escaped his lips, unfiltered.
"...More than you ever did."
And then he was gone, lifting off into the sky, vanishing into the distance before Sera could even think of responding.
The words cut deeper than she expected.
Sera remained frozen, staring at the spot where Samael had been just moments ago.
She had been called out before. By Veritas. By Azazil. By the other virtues. But for some reason, this—coming from him—stung the worst.
Uriel frowned slightly, watching Sera's reaction with concern. "...Why haven't you and Samael ever talked things through?"
Sera inhaled sharply through her nose, exhaling through parted lips as she slowly turned her gaze away. "It's too late," she murmured. "Whatever's left of us... it's already broken."
Uriel shook her head. "I don't believe that. Relationships heal with time, Sera. You just need to—"
"No."
Sera's voice was firm this time.
"He won't ever trust me again."
The words felt final.
Uriel wanted to argue—to reassure her that it wasn't over, that Samael could forgive her. But she saw it in Sera's face.
Sera didn't believe it.
And, maybe... she was right.
———————————————————————
Samael descended onto the earth, the cold night air brushing against his skin as he landed outside the dense forest. His celestial glow softened under the moonlight, his gaze scanning the area for any signs of Lilith.
It didn't take long to spot her.
She was sitting under a tree, arms wrapped around herself, shivering slightly. The exhaustion was written all over her face—her movements sluggish, her eyes half-lidded. She was clearly fighting off sleep.
Samael frowned. "You look exhausted."
Lilith glanced up at him, her lips pulling into a tired, weak smirk. "You're late."
Samael snorted, walking closer before settling beside her. "I came as soon as I could. What's going on? What do you need?"
Lilith sighed, shifting uncomfortably where she sat. "I haven't been able to get any sleep. It's too cold, the ground is hard and rough, and no matter where I try to rest, I can't get comfortable." She rubbed her arms, frustration creeping into her tone. "I don't know how I'm supposed to live like this."
Samael hummed in thought. "Have you tried making a bed with leaves?"
Lilith gave him an unimpressed look. "I tried. They got damp, were itchy, and just... made everything worse." She frowned. "And what's a 'bed'?"
Samael blinked. "Wait—you don't know what a bed is?"
Lilith shook her head. "Never heard of it."
His frown deepened. "Did Sera or the seraphim give you and Adam anything to sleep on? Like a mattress or even blankets?"
Lilith scoffed. "No. We usually just slept under a tree together."
Samael's brows furrowed in disbelief. "So, they didn't even provide you with proper sleeping arrangements?"
Lilith shrugged. "We didn't really know we were missing anything, I guess. Eden had everything we needed... at least, that's what I used to think." Her expression darkened slightly. "There was no bed. No house. No real place to call home. Just the garden."
Samael stared at her for a moment, a deep irritation settling in his chest. The first humans—God's supposed greatest creation—weren't even given basic necessities? He always thought Eden was supposed to be a paradise, but hearing this made it sound more like a glorified campsite.
"That's not fair," Samael muttered, shaking his head. "You should've been given a home."
Lilith sighed. "Well, it's too late for that now."
Samael stood abruptly. "No, it's not. I'll make one for you."
Lilith blinked up at him. "What?"
"You need a bed, right?" Samael grinned. "Why stop there? I'll build you an entire home. Somewhere safe, somewhere comfortable—where you can actually rest without worrying about the cold or the rough ground."
Lilith hesitated. "...That sounds nice, but what if the seraphim find it?"
Samael waved off her concerns. "I'll put up a magic barrier. No one will be able to see it unless you want them to."
Lilith still looked uncertain, but a part of her was already warming up to the idea. A home. The word itself sounded... strange, yet inviting.
Samael suddenly reached out, plucking a twig from her hair. "But before I get started, you should go clean up and relax. I can handle the rest."
Lilith glanced at the twig, then at herself, realizing just how dirty she was. "...Alright, fair point."
"There's a lake not too far from here," Samael said. "Go wash up. By the time you're back, I'll have something set up."
Lilith gave him a skeptical look. "You really think you can build a home in that short amount of time?"
Samael smirked. "You forget—I have magic."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. As she turned to head toward the lake, Samael watched her go, then glanced around at the forest.
No.
A simple shelter wasn't enough.
She deserved more than just a bed and four walls. She needed a real home—a place that was warm, safe, and comfortable. Somewhere she wouldn't just survive but actually live.
His gaze flickered to a nearby rock formation, an idea forming. A cave. Spacious, hidden, and naturally insulated—it would be perfect.
With a flick of his wrist, he cleared out the debris, smoothing the stone walls and raising a natural archway at the entrance. He manipulated the earth, forming separate spaces within—one for sleeping, one for bathing, and even a small area for storage.
Then, he conjured soft, warm furs to cover the ground for bedding, a proper fire pit, and even a small pool of fresh water within the cave for bathing. Next, he ensured a steady food supply by growing edible plants nearby. He even created small wooden furniture—a table, a chair, a shelf—details that made it feel lived in.
Lilith wouldn't just have a shelter.
She'd have a home.