Trees surround
her as she runs, the feelings of guilt and anger making her movements
fast.
Fast. Fluid. Sure. Strong. Words she easily associates with
herself...
Anger. Guilt. Cold. She knows those emotions and
sensations well...
I trust this sword. I trust no other.
That sentiment comes back so quickly now that all Xena held onto for hope is gone. Hope... and hope... so different. The difference is so deadly.
I trust no other. I will kill her.
The blood slows and the heart stills. A wolf tracking prey, ready to leap from the tall grass and attack. So sure, so calm, so ready for this nightmare to find its end with a blade into flesh, with the body upon the ground.
I trust no one. You are gone.
When did it happen? How slowly it seemed, yet how
quickly it truly was... Xena, giving up her heart to the pull of
another, like a damned child... aching for the return of affection
torn away.
Xena, falling hard like a fist. A blow of epic
proportions from the lips and soul of one dead bard.
Xena, letting
down her guard, letting too much in and too much out.
And she does not feel in love, not now. It is despair. It is misery. Love was always this way... Wasn't it?
She is so ready that it
is hard to stop her body from tumbling forward. Boots dig into dirt
and the breathing she left behind finally catches up.
Air in
Xena's lungs turn to liquid again and the rush of held-back sorrow
leaps forth, freezing her face in shock.
I trust no one, no other... You are gone. I will kill her... Wasn't it?
"Gab...Gabrielle, is that you?"
END