ARCHITHEA

A Man falters and angels hold a dialouge.

ARCHITHEA
Definition: Archithea (noun) refers to the primordial chaos or void from which the universe was created.

Pronunciation: /ˌ�'ːrkɪˈθiːə/ (Are-kith-EE-uh)

Roots: The word "archithea" comes from the Greek words "arkhos" (αρχος), meaning "beginning" or "origin", and "theos" (θεος), meaning "god" or "divine". In essence, the term "archithea" can be understood as the "primeval divine" or the "original chaos."

Part 1: Man on Earth

"In a city at the very edge of known creation, a scholar lived through an era of strife and hardship. Disease ravaged the populace, and a fiery red comet blazed across the sky. With the cries of the city assaulting his ears, he turned his gaze to the waters and spoke to himself in a heavy and questioning tone."

Man: "When the fertility of one's mind, called into question by the absence of begotten fruit, the substance of our lives found wanting save misfortune. Then could thus be found suspect and implicated for thy dismay? Thine own intrinsic elements? It would seem. For when instinct wrestles amongst itself in thy gut and it feels as though all creation yearns for archithea, then why our souls be charged? The most briefly of inward reflection exposes our base desires, power, and status reign supreme, and as aspirant as we may be, still we find the true reality of our existence, just as cold and bleak as those polar tundras frequented less and less by those majestic and colorless beasts. Where then, should one seek respite? Within that undiscovered country? For we were told, the coward loses his conscience and thus the name of action... no ... no... then sleep ... sleep is no substitute of moment, for perhaps we would wake once more and again be thrust into our worldly torments ... for how could one dream when cosmic forces, gnashing teeth, and grinding time bear their influence on our feeble spirit... life is as exciting a thing as any could hope to be, and yet still, our very essence drained from us by the monotony of existence, the constant dull drumming of thy lord's foreman, coercing us forward through time and deaf to our futile protests... no.. no dream serves substitute when time itself the sadistic general marching thee forward through the most hostile of countries, our grave covering us thus bit by bit... o but to desert and descend headlong, yielding not to unknown dreads but seizing fate and speaking so softly a curse upon thine ear that the trees and stars themselves tremble at her apprehension. For we can and therefore we must, and rally to us ... all the earth, the heavens, and creation. If onward we must resign ourselves, then our direction shall be our own. For free will does best divinity. And therein be thy conundrum for what if not an anarchy-abiding deity, endows upon us the tools for ruin? On high and thine own alike.. a trap perhaps .... perhaps a test... and if so let it be so... for we no longer yield to unknown dreads, thusly having seized fate with reckless abandon, and permitting ourselves unequivocally, license and dominion over thy destiny and forcing the annulment of this nonconsensual contract that is life. "

He falls to his knees, eyes fixed on the water. The foam of the sea rises and falls, as waves dance in the wind. His cheeks are wet with tears, the sting of the air evaporating them as they fall.

Part 2: Gabriel Questions

In Heaven...

Gabriel's eyes, fixed on the realm of men, felt a growing vexation in his heart. His anxiety boiling over, the words like a mighty river breaking a dam pour forth.

Gabriel: "Michael!, brother I implore thee behold man's plight, God's most treasured creation, and yet his most tried. For surely you hear their cries as I do? For guidance, for reprieve, their longing for discernment. Is it not our duty to deliver them so? Has our Lord forsaken them utterly? To toil and labor, cast from Eden, stumbling in pursuit of spirit, for want of respite from the constant baleful cannibalism of promise they inflict upon one another?"

Part 3: Michael's Argument

Michael, ever stoic, sits unmoved, almost indifferent to Gabriel's plea.

Michael: "O Gabriel, thou stalwart champion of man, I implore thee refrain from musing the conundrum that hath beset humanity, that most fragile and fleeting of creatures. Their minds, once fertile plains of potential, now lie stymied and tormented, like a garden unwatered, a canvas unfinished, a symphony unplayed. And yet, doth God not weep at their despair? Doth He not yearn to revive their withered souls, to restore the luster of their eyes, once bright with hope, now dimmed by the patina of sorrow?"

Gabriel's face growing ever more and more troubled, nods, listening intently.

"For in His infinite wisdom, He hath ordained the trials of existence, that they may prove themselves worthy of His grace. The crucible of life, wherein they are tempered, is but a reflection of His boundless love, a manifestation of His merciful intent. And shall we not trust in His benevolence, His mercy, and His justice? Shall we not have faith in the depths of His wisdom, the heights of His love?"

"For if He is the Author of their story, the Weaver of their fate, then doth He not also hold the power to redeem them? To lift them from the ashes of their despair, to clothe them in the robes of His righteousness? Ah, Gabriel, let us not doubt the majesty of His providence, the mystery of His will. Let us not question the methods of the Divine, lest we presume to know better than He who hath ordained the very fabric of existence."

Part 4: Gabriel's Response

Gabriel approaches Michael, placing a hand on his shoulder, and speaking with gentle gravity, as a father would his son.

Gabriel: "Ah, Michael, thou eloquent advocate for the divine, thy words are as honeyed nectar, sweet and persuasive, yet, I fear, incomplete. For in their darkness, they cry out for guidance, for solace, and oftentimes, it seemeth that God is silent. His presence, once palpable, now seemeth distant, a fleeting memory, a will-o'-the-wisp that vanisheth into the shadows."

Part 5: Michael Suggests

Michael stands and takes a few steps, with his back facing Gabriel he speaks, his tone darker now.

Michael: "Dear Gabriel, if so uncertain you are, that God's silence is indicative of stolidity, and not merely his will enacted, then shall we test thy theory? Wouldst thou have us go forth and kneel before the throne on high and inquire as to the motives of our holy lord!? Wouldst thou see us cast from heaven as our once brother, God's most beloved before us? Wouldst thou burn for eternity in that lake of fire set aside for the treasonous Morningstar, he who now causes the pain and suffering that so heavily distresses you thus!? Art thou so foolish and imprudent? Has the folly of man blinded you so that you would risk thine own everlasting glory?"


Part 6: Gabriel Retorts

Gabriel, placing himself once again at Michael's side, replies as they look down upon Earth.

Gabriel: "Oh Michael, my beloved brother, perhaps there is another way, a hidden harmony, a subtle symphony of salvation; let us descend on Earth and partake of that grand ballet that is humanity, let us commune with man that we may find the answers we seek. For in doing so, perhaps we can discern the delicate rhythms of our Lord's grand design and thus put our misgivings at ease."

Part 7: On Earth

Gabriel and Michael, though hidden from human sight, observe the scholar, visibly uncomfortable in Earth's atmosphere, as beings of heaven not meant for this realm.

Gabriel: "Behold, brother Michael... this fragile vessel, this human heart, so readily susceptible to the whispers of despair, he pleads with death, foolish he seems he knows not, yet with but a gentle whisper I could pull this man from the edge of the abyss, awakening in him that slumbering giant that is faith, and back into the resplendent glory of our Lord, that he might rise triumphant, his spirit unshackled by the fetters of doubt. If this our power be, should we not deliver all humanity thusly?"

Part 8: Michael's Reasons

Growing more uncomfortable, Michael and Gabriel begin to wince in pain.

Michael: "Oh, Gabriel, my most compassionate brother, do you not realize his heart? Has our Lord taught you nothing? If he is shown thusly, how can it be faith? Would you rob this poor man his opportunity to prove himself worthy of God's grace on merit solely his own? Is that not the will of our Lord for all his children?"

Part 9: Gabriel's Argument

Their pain maturing into outright suffering, as if in agony they continue.

Gabriel: "Oh dear Michael, how can this be? What of you? And what of I? How is it that we could understand what it is to be human, what it is to be trapped in a prison of flesh and of blood? Us who from the moment of our creation have been held in God's glory? (As Gabriel spoke, his voice carried the weight of millennia, echoing through the celestial halls, causing all the heavens to listen in silence.) Us who have never known the trials nor agonies of earthly birth, its torments and temptations? We who have never known the sting of suffering nor the anguish of doubt, who could never understand what it means to be absent faith? We who never had our lots cast with wickedness and sorrow? We who never suffered constant horrors of war nor the agonies of disease? We may not be ignorant of the atrocities of humanity but to know them intimately as humans do? To know the evil that devastates this world and not innate faith.. Michael, it would be justice..."

Part 10: The Final Word

Michael's eyes softened, a rare display of emotion from one so composed, as he pondered Gabriel's words.

Michael: "No, Gabriel, we know not these worldly torments, but neither do we have knowledge of what it is to be forgiven."