21.5.0

When Dirk left to go to Bethel's cottage, Zyrdicia was restless and ill-tempered. She was also very angry that he refused to let her go with him to kill the Witch. After spending several weeks as the focus of Dirk's undivided attention, the sudden change was upsetting to her. She was deeply offended that he could shut her out of a kill like this.

Feeling spiteful, Zyrdicia went to Lyr to visit Magnus. Upon arriving, she incinerated Klex, the mage who had summoned Magnus back from the dead. In so doing, she accidentally set fire to Magic Guild and several city blocks. Unperturbed, she made her way to the Temple Graveyard to give Magnus the good news. Her favorite vampire was now free, one of the liberated undead owing allegiance to no one but himself.

To her disappointment, daylight in Lyr prevented her from visiting with him. Magnus was sound asleep in his crypt.

The pair of pretty prostitutes she had brought along for Magnus writhed in their bonds, distracting her. Terrified, both looked ready to start screaming. Not that the noise would matter. No one would come into the Temple's Graveyard to lend assistance. Lyrians knew better than to involve themselves in the business of the undead.

Still, racket like that could only aggravate Zyrdicia in her present mood. She mumbled a few words in Tenaebran that forced both women into a deep sleep. She bent and pinned a short note to Klex's charred skull.

"Magnus,
Klex suffered.
Kisses, Z.

P.S. I brought you a snack."

The blood hunger still had not yet fully dissipated. It was all she could do not to kill the captives she brought for Magnus. She left the crypt quickly, eager to be rid of the temptation.

21.5.1

She hoped that seeing her temple's progress in Geshna would soothe her nerves. She materialized magically there, then lurked in the shadows for a moment. She watched the stone workers quietly. What she saw filled her with displeasure. The construction was proceeding unbearably slowly. At this rate, she would see her two-hundredth birthday before the beautiful, hillside maze of buildings was complete.

Her arrival unleashed a small panic when she stepped out of the gloom. Tools fell from hands, and conversations stopped mid-sentence. Not a man in the room failed to drop to his knees.

She smiled coldly at their reaction. She was almost tempted to disappear, wait five minutes and return just to see them do it again. Their conduct was deliciously worshipful. But it did nothing to dispel her displeasure with the state of the construction.

She turned to the nearest mason and ordered, "Tell the mayor and the captain of the city guard I've summoned them to the temple!"

The man bowed and dashed out, not daring to delay. After all, now he could boast that the goddess had spoken to him.

She watched him go, an irritated scowl disrupting her otherwise angelic countenance. Her eyes turned back to survey the ebony-walled chamber. Hardly any progress had been made in the week that had passed since her last visit here with Dirk.

"Work!" she ordered crossly, snapping her fingers loudly at the dumbstruck peasants. A flash of purple hellfire punctuated the gesture, searing several men nearby.

21.5.2

Her last public appearance in Geshna with Dirk had inspired scores of the city's residents to visit the new temple and pay their respects to the nation's patron goddess. In her absence, the unfinished altar had been heaped with letters, jewelry, snow orchids and personal mementos left by those who had prayed here.

She found their manner of worship odd. Lyrians worshipped with massive, public blood-letting. They knew what their Sephiroth gods wanted, after all. Karteians, provincial folk that they were, treated religion as a private matter. They came to the temple to pray silently. Those who were literate scrawled personal notes begging for this or that divine intervention - the death of a noisy neighbor, the marriage of an ugly daughter. Almost every note contained a small personal effect, left as a sacrifice. Some worshipers left her locks of hair of the intended victims. Others left pilfered family heirlooms or trinkets.

Zyrdicia sifted through the clutter. She liked the attention. No one had ever prayed to her in writing before this. It was not as spectacular as a blood sacrifice, but its quaintness entertained her. No Lyrian would presume to walk in a temple and beg anything of the gods. Lyrians would have laughed at the foolishness of it. There, one simply hired sorcerers if one had need of magic.

She sneered as she read aloud, "'Landeshexa, my neighbor has made me a cuckold. I beg you to avenge the great dishonor done to my family and leave his head on my front gate post. I'll deal with my wife myself. Signed Horst Henson.'"

Several of the stone masons who knew the letter's author sniggered.

Ignoring them, Zyrdicia selected the small subset of the slips of paper involving prayers for mayhem. Those requesting anything less she tossed into a pit of hellfire behind the altar.

She decided to grant the prayers of those who asked for the right things. Manipulating an entire populace was child's play when their wants were so trivial. She hoped a few random "miracles" would nurture the simpletons' religious fervor. She called Malice, her devil dog, from its kennel in Hell. A brief Tenaebran command sent the frightful hound on its way to do her bidding. By morning, news of this would spread through the whole realm.

Knowing that citizens already came to this place to worship made the present state of the temple all the more distressing. She almost found it embarrassing. It should be an exquisite architectural marvel to inspire awe - instead it was a rock-strewn, scaffolding-filled construction zone.

She wondered what excuse the mayor would make for his workers' slowness. The captain of the guard should have posted men to oversee the peasants, prodding them to move faster. A quarter of an hour passed without any sign of the men she summoned. They were taking a dangerously long time to respond to her.

The stone workers watched her pace impatiently.

The state of affairs in her temple simply left her no choice but to kill those responsible for the delay. The blood hunger earlier in the evening had left her with a lingering craving.

Without Dirk here, there was for her no reason to deny its call. Embracing the blood lust in his absence seemed perfectly justified in light of his present engagement in a kill of his own without her.