Meet Sable

Sable is the nominal Main Character (MC, to use the parlance) of The Chronicles of Enoch. He is at the centre of the narrative and the closest confidant of Enoch himself. He is also, as far as he is concerned, damned for all eternity.

He is certain that The Creator's punishment of Atlantis and his own survival (or exile for eternity on Earth) was punishment for simply being him. He will be the first to tell you how unfair this is but he will also be the last to complain about it.

Enough of the data, though, let us hear from Sable himself.

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"I was born on an island which doesn't exist and, according to a great many people today, never did. I am living proof of an awful lot of history that never, if you read the official version, never was.

I suppose you could call me a paradox of sorts...

Paradox is something I am quiet used to being; a Nephilim who is hated by his own species for the most part, a damned soul who has spent the last eight millennia doing what he considers to be Good and Right, a deadly fighter who wishes to be a Man of Peace, a devil with a charming half smile and easy manner with practically everyone, a boy who became a man and, at the same time not only had everyone he knew forget his name but he forgot it himself...

I am Sable and Sable is me...it sounds like such a simple and rather clever phrase doesn't it?

It doesn't come close to capturing just how complicated a concept it encapsulates, though. Nothing really can when the prime witness as it were, yours truly, doesn't really know what happened that day.

All I remember is that I entered that damnable Temple of Lucifer's with all of my "uncles" as somebody else and came out some time later as Sable with some interesting scars on my chest. Scars which glowed with a light that wasn't quite light.

I have learned a lot since then but not what we'd consider the most important part; who am I?

What I am is simple to answer.

I am a Nephilim of what is called the First Generation; the direct Progency of the Fallen and mortal women (the first generation of beings that at least looked human anyway). My mother died during my birth, I am told, I still miss this women I never knew with my eyes open. My father, the argument goes, is Abaddon but I am not the only one to have some doubts about that.

OK, I favour my mother in a great many things; the colour of my hair, the shape of my face, my nose, and the form of my eyes but, they cont