Number three of Keris's Psyche souls, keeping in with the thing that they're much less... human than the Progeny souls:
Sirelmiya, the Heart-Guardian, the Chimerical Priestess
Demon of the Second Circle
Thirteenth Soul of Keris Dulmeadokht
I Will Protect My One True Love (Nemone Sasimana), My Long-Distance Boyfriend's An Asshole (Ney Adami)
In the dark places of Krisity, where the gnarled swamplands meet the tarry meadows, stands a softly radiant shrine of white stone, and in that shrine dwells Sirelmiya. She is a chimeric beast, with the head and upper body of a woman, the haunches of a tigress, and great soft feathery white eagle wings. On her brow she wears a diadem - over her shoulders are draped lavish vestments; her chest and arms and lower body are daubed with crimson love poetry. In one arm she holds a red-thread whip; in the other, a staff. In proportions she is some great beast of legend. Wherever she goes, water boils to form low-hanging steam and the sound of her voice extinguishes mortal flame.
Sirelmiya is a calm beast, seldom given to flights of fantasy and eternally chaste. It is for the best, for her red-thread whip is a weapon of love and so it can tear apart families, cast down empires, and turn peace into bitter war. She can cast out her staff where it forms a swarm of biting insects that curse souls to restlessness and agitation. When she plucks a thread from her whip, and ties two hearts together, such a love wrenches at Fate - for there is no serenity in the tempestuous passions that Sirelmiya venerates.
Within the pantheon of her greater self, the Chimerical Priestess holds the best part of the terrible love of the Silent Wind within her temple, which is both shrine and prison-vault. Two great unclad figures stand flanking the gates; beautiful, vulnerable Sasimana who calls the heart to protect her, and many-faced Ney whose expressions makes onlookers want to slap them and then kiss it better. The Midnight Whisper once contained it all but Sirelmiya relieved her of that burden. Sirelmiya builds new statues for each love, and tears down the ones abandoned, leaving them in the deadly vaults below the soft-glowing stone where all is red and sticky. It is the ichor of former loves she daubs herself in and it from those heartstrings she weaves new strands for her whip.
Sorcerers call on Sirelmiya to create or destroy love - for themselves, or for their enemies. The presence of those who deny love by their actions - though not by their words - angers her, and she gains one Limit a scene she must stay in their presence. She can escape to Creation when certain astrological phenomena happen on a Venusday, or a Saturnday; comets, eclipses, and novas.