12.8.0

Magnus tapped softly on the back door of Philip's house. The assassin was confident that he had not been followed, but he could not resist the urge to scan around the shadows and atop the walls.

Philip expected him. Magnus had sent a messenger ahead, warning the professor that he was on the way. The door opened quickly, spilling pale light onto the garden courtyard.

"Come in, come in!" the old elf greeted impatiently. "Is she alright?"

"Not exactly," Magnus answered, carrying Zyrdicia's comatose body inside. "I drugged her with enough magical sleep elixir to kill an elephant." She was still wrapped in the leather of his coat. He had bundled her snugly in it, pulling it over her face so that anyone who saw him would be unable to recognize the body in his arms. Anyone who saw the assassin would naturally assume it was just another victim, on the way to an escrow agent so that the Guild could claim payment.

"Was that wise?"

"Did I have a fucking choice?!"

Philip directed him to a spare bedroom. Magnus set her down carefully, checking her pulse to reassure himself that she was reacting to the drug as expected. He had no fear that the absurdly high dosage would kill her; he knew her well enough to know that there was little chance of that. But he feared that she might awaken too soon. He needed time to figure out what to do with her. A long sleep would be good for her.

He slid into a nearby chair and sighed heavily. He looked tired. Philip went to fix a pot of tea. It was going to be a long night. When the elf returned, he handed a mug of the steaming beverage to the young Guildmaster and took a seat opposite him. He glanced at Zyrdicia and suspected that she would sleep for days. "I need to know everything, from the beginning," Philip coached gently.

"She was at Azriok's altar trying to fall asleep so that he could come to her. When I got there, she looked like a zombie. Granted, I haven't seen much of her in recent months, but I have never seen her looking like that. It was like someone had sucked the life out of her."

Philip listened attentively. He nodded, urging Magnus to continue.

"She was totally disoriented," Magnus continued, repeating the story she had told him of Baal's visit.

Philip's wise, old eyes fixed on the young man, "You did the right thing. You probably saved her life."

Magnus nodded, looking at her sadly. He knew.

12.8.1

Zyrdicia woke up with a blinding headache. She immediately pulled a pillow over her head to block out the candle light and groaned. She felt like she had the worst hangover of her life.

"I must be in Hell," she moaned.

"Why do you think that?" Portia asked, concerned.

"Cotton sheets. If someone wanted to torment me for eternity, they would make me sleep on fucking cotton sheets," Zyrdicia said irritably. Hearing a room full of people giggle at her very real complaint did nothing for her mood. "I hate you all. Really I do. I should incinerate every one of you."

"You are so damned charming when you wake up, " Magnus laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "This room is an anti-magic chamber now, so you can't incinerate us." While she slept, they had sent for Balthus, the Magic Guildmaster. He had plenty of time to create a temporary energy field in the room to disrupt Tenaebran magic. It would not last long, but it would keep visitors out, and keep her from leaving until they were certain that she was herself again.

She moved the pillow from her eyes to stare at him. "Did you drug me?"

He nodded, "I had to. I didn't know any other way to keep you from doing something you would regret forever." He took her hand and squeezed it. "You are probably going to feel terrible today. I'm sorry."

12.8.2

Zyrdicia spent the next few days at Philip's house. He talked to her for hours on end about what had happened, forcing her to work through every lie, every manipulation. They would go through Baal's visit in tremendous detail, then start at the beginning and go through it again. She understood intellectually that much of what Baal told her was impossible, contradicted by every principle of demonology. Emotions were much harder to master.

She continued to sense Baal's presence in her mind, though she kept that a secret. The Sephiroth frequently tormented her with a string of telepathic Tenaebran pleas, reiterating the words he used so effectively when he visited her. Try as she might, she was unable to get his voice out of her head.

After Philip came to believe that he had succeeded in giving her a modest grip on reality, he left her with Magnus for several hours at a time while he went to the Great Library to consult every known record on Azriok and Baal in the demonology archives. Zyrdicia had almost destroyed the records when she took over the old Temple, but Philip had convinced her to put them in the Library's custody. After she executed Zyr's last priests, all outside knowledge of the archive's existence disappeared. Only Philip and a few librarians had access to the private collection now. It contained the detailed chronicles of every encounter or bit of information gathered by the Old Priesthood over the course of several thousand years.

The research task was arduous, but Philip was methodical and patient. He combed through the fragile scrolls with exacting care. He was looking for any clue as to Azriok's motives. The Sephiroth was going to extraordinary lengths to get Zyrdicia into Tenaebra- first in her dreamworld, now in her body. Philip knew of no precedent for such a ploy. He wanted to find out why. The events of the past half year were a scholar's dream - an unholy mystery seemed to be unfolding all around Zyrdicia. He wanted to understand it in order to properly document it, among other things.

On the third day of his quest, Philip found what he was looking for. His heart raced as he read and reread the ancient scrawl. He slipped several scrolls into his brown leather case and made his way back to his house, half running. He had to resist the urge to laugh out loud as he made his way through the Old City.

When he walked in the front door, Zyrdicia and Magnus were nestled up on his living room couch reading the week's issue of the city's favorite tabloid together. It had named the Assassin Guildmaster the city's most desirable bachelor. On the cover, Magnus wore his sleek, long hair down and smiled mischievously. His full lips, high cheekbones and finely chiseled features complimented his large brown eyes. His long lashes were a frequent source of envy among the many women he dated. Anthony would be thrilled that the assassin had chosen to wear clothes he had designed, especially the striking, long leather coat that was quickly becoming Magnus' trademark.

"'Rich, powerful and handsome, the youngest Council Member is renowned for his humor and wit. He's rumored to be the perfect date -'" Zyrdicia paused and looked at Magnus, arching an eyebrow. She kept reading, "'So hot that even the city's patron demi-goddess finds him irresistible. He is known to be Zyrdicia's constant companion when she is in Lyr. He votes as her proxy during Council meetings, the only Council member in history to effectively have two votes. Despite his fun-loving reputation with the women of the Red Zone party circuit, Her Grace is rumored to be quite smitten with the Guildmaster.' Unfuckingbelievable! You started those rumors!" Zyrdicia bopped him with a nearby cushion.

Magnus grinned, "You can admit it, darling. It's not a secret anymore. It's in print, so it must be true."

"I'll remember that. I have an interview scheduled with them tomorrow. I'll be sure to say a lot of 'truth' about you. You may never have a date again by the time I'm done talking about you."

"Are you sure you don't want to reschedule the appointment and give yourself some more time away from the world?"

"It will be a useful distraction."

Philip cleared his throat. "Thank you for looking after her while I was gone, Magnus."

"My pleasure. I'm thrilled to have her all to myself for a change. There is no one I would rather babysit." Zyrdicia sneered as he pronounced the last word, pretending to be offended. He laughed, "Although she's an unruly brat. The reading lesson is going well though. Here, let's practice some more, sweetie! Read this line!" He pointed to a photo of himself with a caption that read, "Sexy and Smart - the New Face of Power in Lyr."

"You are so full of crap," Zyrdicia smiled. "You believe your own press!"

"Only when they say good things. The bad things are always lies. I think you taught me that." Magnus glanced at Philip then and noticed the elf's expectant expression. "OK, I'm going. Can I help it that I missed having her around?" He kissed her cheek, then got up to leave.

"Are you going to take your propaganda with you?"

"No, that one's for you. Memorize it. I have an entire case of them at the office. I can't wait to make Kaz and Portia read every word of it tonight at the Cauldron. See you later!" he grinned as he left.

Philip shook his head, and muttered, "You created a monster in that one." The aged elf had watched her influence over Arcus' son for many years. He knew that she had nurtured the qualities that enabled him to take control of the Guild and the Council seat. Magnus had cleverly succeeded in eliminating competitors with more age and experience, and had done it with grace and style. His personality endeared him to his underlings and made his power plays seem innocuous. He was very much a creature of Zyrdicia's making. Philip asked, "Will it be hard for you to watch him grow old?"

Her smile faded. She shrugged, "It always is. I still sometimes miss his father and a few others from that generation. Human companions fade almost as soon as they bloom. The brevity of their existence prevents them from fully appreciating their beauty or strength."

"That sounds like something Azriok might have told you."

"No, he would be more likely to say that their lifespan is already far too long. And he would never concede that there is any beauty or strength in the race."

"Zyrdicia, did he ever mention any sort of wager to you?" the demonologist asked, staring at her intently.

She thought a moment before answering. "No."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Positive. Why?"

Philip pulled the scrolls out of his bag and unrolled them carefully on the coffee table in front of her. "Read."

She leaned forward to get a better look. They were written in the ancient pictograph language of the Old Priesthood. She groaned when she saw it. She could read hundreds of languages, but this one always gave her a headache. The structure had to be read backwards to make any sense. "Translate it. You know I hate reading this crap."

"No. You read it with more skill than my most gifted doctoral students."

"So could a trained monkey. They are all idiots."

"Zyrdicia, read!"

She sighed in irritation then proceeded to slowly make her way through the text. She paused pointing to an unfamiliar symbol, "What is this one?"

"Child born of the Twilight Prophecy - you."

"Great. And this?"

"New Age of Darkness."

"When was this written?"

"It was with the papers of the Woldux the Seventh. High Priest of the Third Dynasty."

"Third Dynasty had to be pre-Cataclysm," Zyrdicia muttered.

"Of course it was pre-Cataclysm. He died three-thousand-five-hundred-forty-three years ago!" Philip responded impatiently, as though such a fact were quite obvious. "He was a renowned prophet. Azriok was his personal patron. Zyr had a lesser role in the Temple in that dynasty."

Zyrdicia kept reading, her brow furrowed. She moved to the next scroll wordlessly. Philip watched her, eager for her to finish. He resisted the urge to fidget. When she finished, she set it down and closed her eyes. She was turning it over in her mind. Philip knew better than to interrupt. She was in a better position to interpret it than he.

"I want to kill him."

"Azriok?"

"Mm," she nodded.

"That would mean going to Tenaebra. If the scroll is correct, that is what he wants, so that he can steal your soul and use it to slay Zyr. He could have left this here precisely for that purpose."

"I'm sick of these fucking games," she sighed. "They plant pawns and decoys thousands of years ahead of time. Everything is a lie and nothing is what it's supposed to be."

"You cannot kill him."

"Can't I? After Azriok, Zyr will be next. I'm going to single-handedly invoke the Twilight." She clenched her fists as she felt another onslaught of Baal's telepathic energy whipping around inside her head. She forced her facial expression to remain fixed as she attempted to subdue it. Before she could confront Azriok and Zyr, she would have to tend to Baal first. His incessant whispering within her mind was maddening.

"They will destroy you if you try that. You are being rash."

"What do you expect me to do? Wait for Azriok to drag me off to Tenaebra so that he can devour my soul and take over Hell? Find a way to get pregnant without mating so that Zyr wins this mysterious bet..." She stopped. She looked surprised. She cocked her head as she thought of something.

"What is it?" the elf asked suspiciously.

"Don't you see?"

"See what?"

She explained excitedly, "Any larvae I spawn would replicate Zyr's soul. I could absorb its power. The same ritual that works for absorbing Seraphim and Sephiroth magic works for humans too, but usually it isn't worth the effort. In this case it would be! It would be a trivial matter to suck Zyr's energy out of an infant's body. It would be like cloning the most powerful part of myself. I don't know why I didn't think of this before. No fucking wonder Azriok does not want it to happen. He knows I could kill him then."

"It would undoubtedly kill the child."

Zyrdicia looked at Philip as though he had just said something utterly stupid. "Oh, you are right. How immoral," she commented ironically.

He stared at her in surprise. It was sometimes easy to forget what she was and give into the illusion of her all-too-human guise. He had known her longer than anyone else in Lyr. He had known her mother and sheltered them both from the Crusaders for a time, knowing a day would come when the child would be the key to the Twilight.

After Zyrdicia had killed Azriok and emerged from her subterranean dwelling place, she had gone on a rampage killing the Old Priests, the Crusaders and nearly anyone else who crossed her path. For days, the mouths of the gargoyles adorning the Old Temple had spewed blood instead of rainwater. Everyone in Lyr knew then that the city's old gods had returned to purge the foreign scourge.

Philip had been one of only a few people in the city who could understand the Tenaebran she spoke upon her return. Humans had been alien to her then. She had remembered the ancient elf from her childhood though. He had convinced her not to slay the people trying to worship and follow her. Over the course of several months, he taught her to understand human speech and customs. She had been torn then between her innate need to destroy and a profound curiosity about the glittering world around her.

As Philip looked at her now, she reminded him again of the wild, demonic creature she had been when she left Azriok. "Think this through very carefully," he advised.

"Enough thinking! I want to kill them both. I want to absorb Azriok's power and Zyr's as well. I want their games to explode in their faces and destroy them. And I am willing to die trying, for that too would mean their plans fail. Either way, I will win."

"Three days ago you were ready to surrender to Azriok and run off to be with him."

"I was confused! It was Baal's mindfuck. For that, I owe Azriok a lot of pain."

"You are still confused, Zyrdicia."

She sighed, "But it makes so much sense! Azriok planned this thousands of years ago, according to your priest. If I am the subject of a bet between the Dark One and the Fairest Sephiroth, I have to make sure they both lose. It's intolerable to imagine anyone winning but me!"

"Someday. Your power is still expanding. You have not peaked yet. You are still very young. Wait. There is no way for you to spawn Zyr's soul as long as the Edict in place."

"It's a brilliant logical trap, isn't it? I can't spawn a soul to make myself strong enough to kill Azriok as long as the Edict stands, and the Edict stands as long as I can't kill Azriok. He's so fucking clever."`

"Indeed. For your own sake, remember that!"