26.1

The next night, Zyrdicia awoke from a soft, dreamless slumber in her bed chamber in the Old Temple. She almost never slept in this room, and finding herself alone in it was disconcerting. Moonlight poured over her through a stained-glass window above the bed.

She felt rested and clear-headed for the first time in months. It was as though a fog had lifted from her brain.

Her head rested on something downy. Her pillow had been replaced by a large, gruesomely severed Seraph's wing.

Fully alert, she sat up and realized the furniture had been rearranged in the room. The bed was in the middle of room now, and the rugs were gone. A purple, gleaming rune-covered circle had been drawn around the bed on the shiny, black stone floor. She could see streaks of magic emanating from the runes rising up and surrounding her like a cage.

She leaned over the edge of the bed to examine the circle. No human could have drawn it. The Tenaebran runes were too complex even for her to draw - and no one else in this world was more adept with such runes. These were drawn by a demon's hand.

She struggled to read the runes and comprehend the circle's purpose. She crawled around the edge of the entire bed, reading them all, her excitement building. She almost laughed out loud once she understood the significance of the magic. It wasn't a cage - it was a gift.

The circle protected her from dream demons. She finally had a place of shelter where she could sleep alone.

She flopped back down on the bed and buried her face in the magical feathers of the Seraph wing, laughing. She felt happiness for the first time in many weeks. "Andireon, how thoughtful of you! You may be my new favorite Sephiroth."

Her smile faded as she realized the energy flowing from the runes surrounding the bed was Zyrian. She remembered suddenly that the magic Andireon had fed her from his own blood had been Zyrian, too. It lacked the distinctiveness "otherness" of Azriok or Baal's magic. It was exactly the same energy she used herself.