10.5

Zyrdicia walked into her private reading room at the Great Library for a meeting with Philip, her biographer. She carried a stem of vivid, purple blossoms in one hand. The flowers had been waiting for her next to her bed in the cloud palace when she returned from sacking the jungle temple. The plan appeared to be moving along wonderfully.

The card was sealed with wax bearing the snake rune of the Blackpool sigil. Its message was brief:

"You are in my thoughts.
Warmest regards,
Prince Dirk Blackpool."

"From your face, I would assume the flowers are from your prince," the old elf smiled.

Zyrdicia nodded slyly. "Portia already told you, Philip?"

"Of course. News like that travels fast among your friends. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Of course I want to tell you about it!" she laughed.

The elf was customarily silent while she related stories of her adventures to him. He sometimes took notes. Today he scribbled almost non-stop while she babbled. His expression was almost pained as he listened. Something danced in his eyes. He looked as though he wanted to interrupt on countless occasions, but bit back his words.

"You look like you are going to pop!" she smiled, when she finished with the story.

"Zyrdicia, you have no idea what this means," he said slowly. There was no easy way to approach the subject of the Twilight Prophecy with her. It upset her. It irritated her as few subjects did. "I've been trying to reach you for weeks and you ignored my messages," he began apologetically.

"I was obviously busy. What are you talking about?"

"I made a charcoal rubbing of the tablet found under the Temple. At the time I thought the rubbing would be a convenient way to work on the translation at home. Now it is the only record of the tablet's contents. I think you need to see it."

Zyrdicia's purple eyes widened. "Why the fuck did you wait so long to tell me you had a copy of it?"

"I did not want anyone but you to know. I have not told a soul it exists. I could take no chances after the destruction of my vault." He pulled a carefully folded, tissue-thin piece of paper from his leather case. He opened the large sheet before her. His discomfort was quite evident.

Zyrdicia's cheeks flushed as she read the Tenaebran verse of the Twilight Prophecy. Azriok had not lied about its contents. Like the version Zyrdicia was familiar with, this one spoke of the coming end of Seraphim and Sephiroth and the end of magic as it is currently known. Its second stanza foretold that the last Sephiroth would create a single half-human daughter, creating her of a sliver of his own soul. She would have the power to replicate the energy of that sliver endlessly by creating new souls. The sliver would reproduce itself in each of her offspring, and again in their offspring, ad infinitum. From this single daughter a new race of semi-mortals would emerge, a race which would collectively house the soul of the vanquished Sephiroth. Zyr would escape destruction by becoming humanity. None of this was new to Zyrdicia. The old version told the same story by anticipating a handful of siblings Zyrdicia never had.

It departed radically, however, by adding a section completely missing from the traditional version. It related that Zyr would prepare for the Twilight with exacting care. He would nurture six lines of mortals, carefully preserving what he could of the magic of Creation in their blood and protecting it from the dilution that affected the rest of the species. His goal was to ensure appropriate magical strength in those bloodlines for mating purposes. The six would be potential progenitors of the new species which would contain Zyr's soul.

Zyrdicia glared at Philip. "Tell me it's a perverse joke!"

"It may well be just that, but if so, only Zyr is laughing."

"Then Azriok could have made it up."

"Possible, but unlikely. You yourself said Zyr's magic was all around you at the ruin. He undoubtedly built the place to channel magic just for this purpose, planning it long ago. You found the evidence of the Zyr-manifestation in that world. He laid the groundwork for this centuries ago, watching it unfold generation by generation. Everything he did there led up to this. You knew from the outset that Zyr could not have been interested in conquering a little province or helping a mortal prince. His game is much larger than that. The pieces all fit."

She covered her face in her hands. She had known all along that Zyr had used her. She had not suspected it went this deep.

Philip continued gently, "It was a carefully crafted pretext to get you there. It cannot be otherwise. Why do you think Azriok was so troubled by your presence there, so desperate to find out your location? He knew."

"He knew Zyr set me up, and he was trying to protect me. That is what he meant about enslavement."

"Do not assume that. He is as tricky as Zyr is. He has his own motives in this. You mustn't forget that."

"But it was Azriok's Edict that kept Zyr's plan from being completed. It was the only thing that prevented our coupling. The damned magic would have..." Her voice grew angry. "Zyr intended to breed me like a prized mare. It is disgusting. He thinks I am going to consent to spending the next 900 years spawning human larvae. I would kill myself first."

"Do not overreact. Zyr's prophecy should not make you any less happy to have finally found a mortal who can deflect your feelings for Azriok."

"Deflect my feelings for Azriok?" she repeated, incredulous. "That is idiotic. He's a mortal. Besides, loneliness is better than serving as Zyr's breeding machine."

Philip looked sad. "Zyrdicia..."

"I should just tell Azriok who he is, and be done with it," she said angrily.

The elf shook his head. "The mortal does not know he is part of this. You cannot hold him responsible for it. He has been manipulated as much as you have. In fact, in a sense, he too is a creation of Zyr."

"Philip, the only thing sacred in your life is this fucking prophecy! You would say anything to make it come true."

He could sense her fury building. He knew better than to press the issue. She would think about his words later when she was calmer; she always did. "So you will not go back there?"

She was silent a long time. When she pulled her hands away from her face, her eyes were glassy and distant. "There's a problem with that."

"Your heart?"

"Of course not," she scowled impatiently. "I've spent the last 99 years alone. I can spent the next nine centuries the same way."

"What then?"

"Arcanium."

Philip's eyes widened. He dropped his quill. There could be no notes of such a secret.

"He has the only supply of it left in the world, and thinks its worthless. They trade it as coinage. I have to have it."

Philip chuckled and shook his head. "Zyr is an old fox."