Chapter 1

Mother Asherah. Hear my prayer. Father Elohim has banished me and swallowed my children in the flood. Their mother has passed on from this world, never seeing our children washed away from her arms. Beloved Inanna has entered your heavenly gates, and I will never see her again. Oh, dearest Mother, hear me. My sin was for loving Inanna and not my sacred duties. I fell for her sake; I have labored seven years for her hand. End my endless banishment and let me live to serve Father once more. 500 P.D.

I watched with weary eyes as the woman held up her only son. Her husband began to pray blessings to my father. Yet, I laughed. Didn’t he already have a son? He was acting as though this was his first. Though I would think maybe the first child with his wife, but there standing in the corner was his only daughter; their only daughter. The firstborn, born from the wife believed to be barren before she could no longer have children. Yet this son existed despite the woman’s time. Though I had been watching Father Elohim’s favorite for years now, I never understood why he was. My father renamed him Abraham, and told him he would be the father of many

nations, as numerous as the stars. His daughter, who remained unnamed until she was married off years later wasn’t counted. She was the daughter, not the son, so they would be her husband’s descendants not her father’s. Then, they travelled to Egypt, where Abraham’s wife was given maidservants, who could provide her husband with the son she couldn’t produce. Acting as nothing more than her mother’s maidservant, the daughter left to leave her parents in their time of rejoicing. So I followed. I cared nothing for my father’s favorite; the lives of those around him mattered more to me. The daughter entered another tent, this one much less decorated, and bowed before the woman. She spoke with bitterness at the girl: “Has my mistress succeeded in giving your father a son?” She asked. When the girl nodded, the woman sighed. “So Ish will inherit nothing if this boy lives. His oldest son will inherit nothing.” At that, I felt anger. I was faithful to Inanna; Abraham had affairs with his wife’s servants just to have a son. And on top of it, his son, even if he wasn’t his wife’s, would be disinherited simply for having the wrong mother. The girl sighed. “You can’t try anything for your son’s sake. Father will banish you. Ish deserves the status that will be wrongfully given to Isaac, but it’ll only make things worse in the long run.” “Ish, come out, please.” The son of Abraham and his wife’s handmaiden hesitantly approached his forlorn mother. This was Ishmael, the firstborn male from the house of Abraham. I had watched him grow up. He was only eleven, only three years younger than his half-sister, but still strong. He labored in the fields along with his father’s servants-he was more of a man than a child. He never defied his mother. “You know what lies ahead, don’t you?” His mother asked. Instead, he only looked at his half-sister, who said nothing. His mother hugged him in a comforting manner. “We will prepare for that day, if it ever comes. I will not forsake you, my son.” The three of them watched patiently as Isaac grew. Just as her mother and father were half-siblings, the daughter was married to her half-brother, Ishmael, to ensure that any children of hers were descendants of Abraham. Yet, this did not satisfy her mother, who spoke to her father. On Isaac’s sixth birthday, she pulled him aside. “Abraham, dear,

you must send Ishmael, his wife, and his mother away. I have watched them and they may try to kill Isaac, so Ishmael can keep his inheritance.” Her husband only smiled. “Anything you say.” The thought of that betrayal made me clench my teeth. Those were his children; he was easily talked into disowning his children because his first son didn’t have his wife’s blood. And though I knew it was forbidden, I whispered in his ear that night: “Lord Abraham, take your son Isaac, your only one,” I said ironically. “Whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There, offer him up as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you. Your Lord Elohim commands it.” At that, he shook. “I am to offer my Lord the son he had promised me?” “Lord Elohim and Lady Asherah command it.” At that, a single tear fell. Yet, I felt no pity for this man. He felt no love for his children if he was willing to banish them and leave them for dead, only because his wife told him to. If he said yes, then that meant he truly didn’t care about any of his children: none of them mattered to him.

For a few minutes, he didn’t speak. I was beginning to believe he wasn’t going to do it when he spoke: “I will obey my Lord.” The next morning, he mounted a donkey with his son and took the procession to Moriah. They weren’t alone. Isaac’s sister and Ishmael hid in the back. They wore white hoods and kept their heads bowed. And they travelled for two days. When they finally made it, it was nearing daybreak. “Here it is, Abraham.” I whispered in his ear. Nodding, he slide off his donkey and helped his six year-old son down. “Stay here with the donkey.” He said glancing back at the procession. His older children looked down to avoid his notice. “We will worship and come back to you.” Invisible to human sight, I walked along with them, encouraging Abraham here and there to continue along the path. Glancing back, I noticed his children slowly following. Telling him to go to the hill to his right, I walked back to hear them. The sister was watching her father with fear. It was almost as if she knew, despite her father never saying a word. If she were to stop the ceremony, their chances of survival were slim to none.

The daughter glanced over at Ishmael. “Isn’t this unusual?” She glanced back at her father’s servants, who were sleeping deeply, before turning to walk on. “If Father was really worshiping the Heavenly Parents, wouldn’t he have taken you as well? Something about this doesn’t feel right, Ish.” He shook his head. “What about this does?” As they slowly climbed the hill, they watched their father set up the altar of sacrifice with Isaac’s help. Yet, they didn’t have a ram for sacrifice. “How can they sacrifice anything for the Heavenly Parents if there isn’t anything there? There’s no way he’d just take Isaac, especially at that age.” Then his eyes widened. “He’s going to sacrifice Isaac!” “What?” Right before their very eyes, they watched as their father tied their little brother onto a funeral pyre. A child who hadn’t even reached his tenth year. At that, his sister nearly rushed to his aid, but Ishmael held her back. Though she argued with him to let her go, he was too afraid to do so. So I whispered in his ear: “Don’t release her, Ish. Both of you will be banished if Isaac lives.” “No matter what we do, Isaac will die.” At that, she screeched. “Father, don’t do it. Isaac doesn’t deserve this!” Glancing back, Abraham did nothing but sneer. He turned away, and raised the knife in the air. Isaac began to cry. Hugging his wife, Ishmael had her turn away as Abraham brought the knife down. The moment the knife touched Isaac, everyone was thrown back. A bright light shone where Isaac laid. As I approached, I knew that he was dead. Though I had to sacrifice an innocent child to punish a foolish old man, I was proud that I had saved two children who didn’t deserve the fate their demanding father was bringing to them. Then, the body disappeared and a cloud of heavenly light appeared. Holding the now living Isaac, Archangel Gabriel stood above the altar. Looking over at me, he made it perfectly clear that I had done wrong. Putting the child in his father’s arms, the angel spoke in a voice that was so surreal; once native sounding to my ears, it seemed like the most beautiful sound. “Lord Elohim and Lady Asherah have not ordered the sacrifice of your son, and so They have asked me to return the child to you. The Heavenly Parents give you this ram as a sacrifice instead.” Then he turned to me, he spoke in what humans refer to as

Adamite: “Mother Asherah has decided to extend your punishment. Go back whence you came, benei.”

Abraham deserved to be punished, but he was “Their favorite”, which meant he couldn’t be touched. The family gathered together to sacrifice the ram. Though, Ishmael and his wife were later banished (despite my efforts), everything seemed well. But I began to burn with a vendetta. Though I wanted reentry into Shamayim, I couldn’t stand the unfairness of this world. It was a fact I wanted to change. If I could, I would defeat Michael and the seraphim who washed this planet of my children, and murdered my beautiful Inanna. Just as Abraham held guilt, they did so tenfold.