Chapter 1
The light of the western sunset glittered and bounced off the steel of the weapons as they rested in the display stand before her eyes. She moved slowly back down the long table a third time, her green eyes blinking as the light flashed off the silvered steel. Her fingers absently traced the edge of the table until she came, once again to the two matching weapons that had first caught her eye.
Behind the table, in the roughly built open area beyond, rested various articles of clothing and armor of varying designs and styles.
"Any time today, sis," A faintly irritated voice suggested from off to one side.
Brushing several stray locks of blonde hair out of her eyes, she turned and looked back at her sister, one eyebrow rising in what could only be described as irritation.
"How long did you spend in Draco's armory, Xena?" Hope asked. She pointed at her sister, indicating the clothing she was wearing.
Xena crossed her arms over her chest and let out a soft sigh.
"Well?" Hope pressed.
Xena was dressed in a functional set of what could be considered leather armor. Bustier, bracers, greaves, short tabard and fine boots, all oiled and well tended, colored a rich, almost chocolate brown trimmed in shimmering bronze. On a small catch at her hip hung her chakram, and at her back was a long, sturdy two handed sword.
Her jet black hair was pulled back neatly, held by a two piece leather and wood barrette, and her blue eyes shone keen and bright.
"Not this long," She countered. "Come on. It's getting dark for crying out loud."
Hope sighed and looked down at her own clothing. Her simple green halter and dark brown skirt were beginning to show their age. Even her sturdy brown hide boots were looking a little worn out.
Her self critical gaze moved to the object in her hand, the long solid oak quarterstaff. Yes, the clothing and weapon served a purpose, and yes, they were still in half way decent shape, but the idea of walking around looking like her mother's twin had lost it's appeal and it's usefulness a long time ago.
To be honest, she felt wrong in these clothes. It wasn't her – what – style? Did she even have a style?
Ever since Xena's father, David had stripped away her contact with the evil Dahok, her mind had been freed to grow and learn, and her own sense of self had begun to emerge.
Her memory flashed back to that fateful day, and in a flash, she saw him on his knees before her, her weapon puncturing his chest, while his own narrow sword protruded from her side. His eyes had been as fierce as his smile.
"Gotcha!" he had growled. Then the world flashed white before her eyes.
Hope jumped slightly as the flash abruptly brought her back from memory to the present. Then her gaze settled once more on the two weapons at the end of the table. They were short, a little more than two feet long, single edged and curved like the oriental blades of Japa. They were shorter versions of that sword. The blades were clean, polished like silver mirrors ending at a small, ornately wrought circular guard. The handles were carved ivory, wrapped with sturdy leather straps. With the pommels cut into the likeness of a roaring lion. Each one came with a beautifully made wooden scabbard and a two strap harness that allowed the owner to wear them at their back or drop them to the waist in belt fashion.
Even as she felt the desire to purchase the weapons, the uncomfortable familiarity of them made her hesitant.
The vendor, a middle aged, wiry thin man who seemed to be made completely of vertical lines, interlaced his fingers patiently and twiddled his thumbs. His quick dark eyes were filled with watchful light. He offered an encouraging smile. His cheeks widened, to make room for the smile.
"If I may, miss," he offered in a surprisingly sincere voice. "I know when an object has sold itself to one of my customers, and these weapons have sold themselves to you. I can see it in your eyes when you look at them.
"I'm surprised you aren't suggesting something more expensive," Xena quipped.
The vendor looked at her with an expression of insult as well as understanding.
"I have more expensive weapons here, to be certain," he countered sharply. "That isn't the way I run my business! What good is selling an expensive weapon to a customer if it won't serve them well? A trade like mine is based on repeat business, young lady. I can't have return customer if the weapons they buy end up getting them killed."
He refocused his attention to Hope.
"Now, you must understand," he said, lifting one of the weapons and offering the hilt to her. "These are crafted from steel in the traditional style of the east, using their forging methods, which makes the metal unusually pure and durable."
Hope took the hilt, feeling the leather handle fit neatly into her palm.
"Just as these are going to give you the flexibility and durability you require," the vendor went on. "They are going to need special care as well."
"Oh?" Hope inquired.
"These will need to be kept well oiled at all times to guarantee they last." He explained. "And give them a working edge, not a razor one or they will begin to nick or notch on you."
"You seem to know a lot about weapons," Xena said, stepping back up to the table.
The vendor nodded and offered another polite smile. "I make it a point to learn about those things that I sell, miss. It makes it easier to ensure that I sell only the best."
"So, are you a blacksmith, sir?" Hope asked.
"No miss," he replied. He stood back up and gestured within his shop. "Armorer of sorts. More a leather worker than armorer actually, but my stuff is better than most in these parts, and no one will sell to you at a fairer price, that I can promise." He finished his statement with an emphatic nod of his head.
Xena stepped up and took one of the weapons, looking at the workmanship critically. "I'll bet," she muttered.
Her keen eye noted that this weapon was indeed, exceptionally well crafted. A second inspection of its mate was the same. Keen, straight, well tended, and extremely well balanced in her hand.
"What do you think, Xena?" Hope asked.
Xena cleared her throat and looked up at the knowing expression on the shop keeper's face. A small proud smile began to appear on his wizened features.
"Yes miss," he asked. "What are you're impressions?"
"How much?" Xena asked, setting the weapons back upon the table.
"For the set?" He mused, sliding them back into their scabbards. "With the belt. Oh, I would say one hundred would be fair."
"Sixty," Xena fired back, and the bartering had begun.
The shop keeper smiled knowingly. "You know the rules of engagement in many arenas, I expect." He sighed. "Very well, very well. I know that you are not overly wealthy, and you know that I wish to make a profit over the price I paid for these. Shall we say eighty dinars and that would be fair all the way around?"
"If you make it seventy-five," Xena smiled. "You'll get a fair price for them, and my sister here will get what she wants."
The shop keeper smiled more broadly and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He shook his head appreciatively. "Very well ladies. Done and done."
Xena smiled and began counting out the money as the shop keeper handed Hope the weapons and belt, wrapped in a simple bundle.
"May these serve you well, my dear," he offered with a smile. Then he turned to receive the money from Xena, his expert eyes taking in her gear and clothing.
"If I may point out, miss," he said candidly as he received the coins. "Some of the fastening on your armor could use some repair. For an additional fifteen dinars, I could easily,"
"Ten," Xena smiled before he had even finished.
"Ten then," he smiled back. "I can repair the worn portions of these components. It would only take a matter of a couple hours or so?"
He looked back at Hope and his smile softened a bit. "And I may also have a few things that you might be able to use." He cleared his throat and said delicately. "Forgive me, but your garments have the appearance of having traveled long, if you take my meaning."
"Oh?" Hope asked, attempting to mimic Xena's suspicious gaze of a moment ago.
"I mean no offense," the shop keeper added quickly. He looked down at her boots. "Those would only need a little repair. The rest?" He finished with a neutral sound and a shrug. "I am not a tailor you see."
"Uh huh," Hope nodded.
Xena considered for a moment and nodded. "We'll be back in the morning with my armor and we'll see about the rest."
"Very well," the shopkeeper nodded and smiled. "Good evening ladies."
They found a local inn that wasn't too expensive. The room was small, but not cramped, and the linens on the bed looked considerably cleaner than they had expected.
As she had over the past few days since they left the ruins of Poditea, Xena began unpacking her gear, laying it out within easy reach of where she would rest.
Hope watched her half sister's usual evening ritual with mild curiosity. How could a person do the same exact thing every night, placing everything in a precisely arranged order in anticipation of the coming day?
An idea struck her and she set her traveling bag next to the bed and took her two weapons, fastening the belt about her waist. She turned and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Xena asked.
"I want to try something," Hope replied. "Be back in a little bit."
She stepped through the door before Xena could protest.
"Don't go far!" Xena called after her.
She didn't go far at all. As Xena finished getting ready for bed, she saw Hope step out into the courtyard of the inn.
Her curiosity piqued, she stepped to the window and watched.
There was an air of expectation around her half sister.
Half sister – now that was probably the biggest irony in her entire life. Lives would be closer to the mark.
She watched the courtyard and felt her memory drift back to a different time, when she traveled with another young woman. Years of adventure, trial, and tribulation had forged a friendship between her and Gabrielle that was unbreakable, even by death.
When she had finally met her end on the island country of Japa, her best friend had continued, found love in the form of a man from the future, and had a family. She was her best friends first born child, and she had enjoyed growing up with her best friend as her mother. She had also loved having a father figure, something that she had missed desperately in her previous life.
Her father had been a remarkable man. He had conquered time, traveling back from a distant future to win her mother. He had been a powerful priest, or shaman. His term had been witch. It was because of his powerful magical abilities that they had survived many adventures growing up.
Somehow, trouble continued to follow the two of them through their various lives, engulfing all around them when it reared its head. Her father had accepted this and at time, even embraced it.
It was Gabrielle's first child, the evil Hope, High Priestess of Dahok, that had ended her family.
She had returned again with a small army of her priests and razed her village of Poditea to the ground.
David had sacrificed himself to strip Hope of her contact with the deity, leaving Hope alone in the world for the first time in her existence.
Her abilities removed, her contact gone, Hope was like a child in many ways, naïve and inexperienced. Xena's father had countered this by imbuing her with a portion of his own magical power, both as a foundation and to ensure that Dahok never regained his evil hold on her.
They had taken Hope away to prison, ostensibly for execution, but her father, David had intervened again, from beyond the grave, arranging for Hope to find her way back to Gabrielle and Xena and begin the long process of reconciliation shortly before Gabrielle finally succumbed to old age and died.
Since leaving their family tomb in the hills outside Poditea, Xena and Hope had begun to form a relationship, though it was not warm like it would be between most siblings.
Hope was hunted by both the former victims of Dahok's order and a mysterious offshoot of the religion that was continuing the reign of terror in Dahok's name.
Besides, Xena was coolly receptive to Hope's apparent reformation. She wasn't truly convinced, yet, if Hope's newfound morality was sincere. The duplicitous young woman had pulled stunts like this before.
Granted, she had never prolonged any masquerade for an extended period of time, and the tears she had shed, the anger she had expressed when Gabrielle had passed away had been as sincere as her own.
Hope stood in the courtyard below and drew her weapons, holding them comfortably in her hands.
She seemed to be waiting for something, her eyes almost closed as she stood, perfectly still, like a pale statue illuminated by the waxing moon.
"What in the world are you doing?" Xena called down to her in an annoyed tone.
Hope started and then turned, glaring up at Xena.
The sudden fire that Xena saw in that gaze actually made her stand up in surprise.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone and she resumed her position and closed her eyes completely, taking several deep breaths to calm herself.
"What the mind believes," she whispered to herself. "The body achieves."
It had been a portion of the otherworldly lessons that she had received from her ghostly stepfather. David had taken hope away from the nightmares that plagued her and given her instruction on the arts of combat, so that she might better protect herself.
The lessons had taken place in numerous fantastical dreamscapes that had been pulled from David's own memories. Within those faux worlds, she had learned the skills that she would need to survive. She had also discovered that the power used to drive away the connection between her and Dahok had consisted of the power that had fed David's own substantial magical abilities. Though she had not as yet learned how to bring it all to the fore, she had managed to manifest some of what she had learned through meditation and focus.
"Your mind will translate the knowledge and skill to your muscles as you meditate," David had said to her. "When your mind is quiet and at peace, the skills will arrange themselves accordingly. Then it will simply be a matter of training your muscles to perform the action you understand."
"And how does that happen?" she had asked.
"Three ways," David had smiled that interminable smile. "Practice, practice, and more practice. You must awaken the skill before you can hone it. Then, you'll be ready."
"And the magic?" she had pressed.
"That'll come too," He had acknowledged. "At first, when you least expect it, then as you tend to need it, and finally whenever and however you want it."
"Above all," he raised a finger in a cautioning gesture. "Keep it simple at first and let it happen at its own pace. If you rush it, you'll never master it."
The memory felt like a warm blanket. Then her mind began sending the signals to her limbs and she felt her body move.
Xena's eyebrows rose as Hope raised one, and then the other weapon in simple, sideways slashing motions and then back and forth, up and down, her wrists turning neatly to send the sharp edge of the weapons in the direction of the cut.
Her eyes remained closed, her face was unusually calm and composed, almost neutral as if she were sleep-walking.
Then her feet began to move, stepping slowly forward or back or side to side, pivoting at the waist or turning on the balls of her feet and focusing the swinging weapons in a new direction.
Xena felt a hot flash of jealousy course through her as she realized what her step sister was doing. There had only been one other person in her life that she could remember doing that. She had seen her father meditate many times, going through complex katas in a state of semi-trance. She had often stole from her bed, late during the long cool summer nights, and watched her father in his training, marveling at the fluidity of his movements. There was an effortless quality to his actions, in his face and in his form that she had never seen before. He had changed the brutality of combat into a beautiful, yet deadly dance, and had acquired the martial talents of numerous disciplines.
Now, the person ultimately responsible for his death stood below in the courtyard, emulating his movements with increasing precision.
In the back of her mind, she felt betrayed. This gift should have come to her. She should have held this gift, not Hope. Not the monster that had taken his life. The sensation faded almost as quickly as it registered when she caught a glimpse of Hope's face in the silver moonlight. Thin streaks of tears flowed down her cheeks even as she moved, and instead of the peaceful expression that David had always her, Hopes was filled with emotion.
Xena turned and headed down to the courtyard, suddenly filled with concern. She passed through the gate in time to see Hope finish her exercises with one last graceful twirl, the weapons writhing in her hands and then vanishing into the sheaths at her side with an emphatic staccato pop.
She was down on one knee, her body rigid, breath heaving gently until her eyes opened, filled with anguished tears, and her breath burst out in a gasping sob. She let herself sink to the grass, weeping.
As before, the suspicions vanished in a wave of familial concern and Xena rushed to Hope's side.
The young woman felt Xena's arms encircle her and the tears flowed freely.
"Gods," she sobbed. "He was beautiful, Xena. He was so beautiful, and powerful, and warm, and," she choked, looking up at her older sister with bright, fearful eyes.
"This should have been for you," she said, echoing Xena's private thoughts of earlier. "Why did he do it, Xena?"
Xena shook her head, smiling softly.
"I took his family away from him, his life, his whole world and instead of hating me, he, he comes back and saves me? He drove Dahok out of my soul and gave me all of these, these, these gifts in spite of what I did to him!"
She was ranting now as her newly found emotions began to consume her again.
"Why did he, Xena?" she pleaded. "Why?"
Her emotions and her questions vanished in a moment when she beheld a figure standing near the edge of the courtyard like a deeper shadow among the foliage. She caught a glimpse of light from the face, deep and crimson, like embers, and then the demonic eyes turned away and melted into the bushes.
"Who was that?" she whispered, now terrified.
"What?" Xena asked, looking in the indicated direction. She could see nothing but the subtle shift of shadow within the outer layer of foliage lining the courtyard. "Where?"
"I thought I saw," Hope began. She paused and shook her head. "Never mind."
"What did you see?" Xena asked.
"Nothing," Hope finally admitted. "Shadows."
Hope reached up and gave Xena's encircling arm a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks," she sniffed.
"For what?" Xena asked.
"Just, you know." Hope shrugged. "Not being angry with me. Well, more angry with me than usual."
"I don't know what happened to you, Hope," Xena confessed. "Maybe I'll never know how it all worked, or what my father gave you. I can live with that. Yes, a part of me wonders why you got what you got from him, and maybe there was a time when I was a little jealous that you did get his gifts. But not any more."
"Why not?" Hope asked as she wiped her eyes.
"Because no matter how much you try," Xena smiled. "My dad did it better than you ever will."
Hope looked up in shock and saw the smile on Xena's face. Suddenly, a soft laugh burst from her, and with it, a little more of the weight she carried in her heart.
"How did you deal with it, Xena?" she asked suddenly. "The last time?"
"With what?"
"The guilt," Hope replied. "How did you deal with it when you realized," she stopped again.
"Go ahead," Xena nodded.
Hope closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"When you realized everything you had done and all the pain you made others suffer was wrong." She nearly blurted. "How did you deal with the fact that you had been so - that you had done all those terrible things and," Her voice caught.
Xena's gaze turned inward to her previous life. Her blue eyes looked soft and thoughtful.
"How did you do it once you found yourself?" Hope finished. "Found your real self, you know?"
Xena smiled. "Well, for one thing. I had a lot of help from someone who cared about me."
"You mean mother," Hope nodded.
"And a few others, but Gabrielle was the most important one." Xena explained. "In the beginning, I would slip back into old habits so easily and she was always there pointing out alternatives or getting me thinking again before I just went off."
Xena shrugged. "I'm not saying it was always roses with us. We disagreed with one another, violently at times, but we never lost our respect or our love for each other, and I think that's why things worked out the way they did."
"You loved her," Hope nodded.
"I still do," Xena nodded.
"What does that feel like, Xena?" Hope asked suddenly. "How does it feel to love someone that much?"
The question was unusually forward for Hope, and considering her delicate state of development, quite a leap of trust to ask for confidences this personal. Again, another small portion of the wall of distrust disintegrated between them.
Xena considered her answer for a long moment.
"Clouds," she said as her eyes drifted upwards to the wisps of cloud moving lazily across the deep purple sky. "It feels like clouds."
Hope frowned in spite of her melancholy, which only prompted another smile from Xena.
"Come on," she rose, offering her hand. "I think you've impressed me enough for one night. We need to get some rest before we go back to that shop tomorrow."
Hope awoke with a start. The sunlight streamed in through the open window, momentarily blinding her. Beside her, Xena lay deep in sleep. Hope was mildly amused to see her older sister contentedly sucking her thumb as she slumbered.
That moment of amusement helped to drive away the remnants of the bloody images that had awakened her.
David had told her that the dreams would never truly go away. It was a part of her life that she would have to carry with her till the end of her days.
Her thoughts drifted back to the strange apparition that she had glimpsed in the foliage the previous evening.
Moving quietly, so as not to disturb her sister, Hope dressed and returned to the courtyard, moving along the tall bushes that lined the edge of the place, her eyes scanning the branches and the ground for any sign of disturbance.
She found nothing, even thought he movement of the figure should have left an impression on the soft, well tilled earth. No footprints were evident, and event eh smallest of trigs was unscathed. It was as if the figure had simply melted through the growth instead of pushing it aside.
"Find anything?" a voice called out.
Hope practically jumped out of her skin as she shot to her feet and wheeled around.
Xena stood in the window again, fastening one of her bracers to her forearm with expert ease.
It took a few moments before Hope caught her breath. She shook her head.
Xena shrugged. "Well, then don't worry about it. Meet me out front."
They found themselves back at the vendor's small edifice again. He grinned broadly when they approached and ushered them into his small shop eagerly.
"Good morning, good morning," he said cheerfully. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
Xena handed him her bundle of leather armor. He took it and spread it out on a nearby work table as he began inspecting it carefully.
"This armor is old," he commented appreciatively. "Very old. Older than you are, I expect. Where did you come by it, if I may ask?"
Xena was a little put off by the question. "It was handed down to me."
"Through a few generations, I expect." He nodded. "The workmanship is superb, and the detailed filigree is the work of a master."
"Thank you," Xena smiled.
The shop keeper indicated several of the fasteners and shook his head. "I think this must have hung unused for a time. These fasteners haven't been maintained like the rest."
He smiled and gave her a nod. "No matter. It should only take a few minutes to fix them."
Hope was busy moving along the rear wall of the shop, here and there inspecting various pieces of leather armor hanging from wooden pegs.
The shop keeper noticed this and stood up straighter.
"Ah, miss," he said politely. "No need for you to peruse. I have yours prepared for you."
Both women frowned at that statement.
"Prepared for me?" Hope asked.
"Indeed," The shopkeeper smiled. He looked Hope up and down and then gave a nod.
The man stepped through a small doorway and emerged bearing a large bundle of cloth.
Their curiosity piqued, the girls stepped up to the long table as the shop keeper began to carefully unwrap the bundle.
The leather was colored a deep, beautiful burgundy color, filigreed in silver. The set included a pair of sturdy boots, bracers, greaves, breastplate and shoulder plates all held together with sturdy silver rivets.
"Tell you what, Miss," the shopkeeper said to Xena cordially. "Why don't you help her get settled in her suit, and I'll fix yours for you?"
Xena was rather taken aback by the masterful quality of the workmanship of Hope's armor. It took a moment for her to find her voice.
"Sure," she nodded. "Okay."
It took a little time to get Hope fitted properly into her outfit. The new leather was stiff and unyielding and despite being segmented and expertly riveted to allow freedom of movement, the garments seemed reluctant to allow Hope to turn and move naturally.
"I don't think this is working," she commented. As Xena fastened and adjusted one of the toggles under her arm.
She gave a little gasp in surprise. "That's way too tight." She complained.
"It won't be," Xena replied easily as she wrestled with the next fastening. Xena looked back at the shopkeeper.
He stood with his back to her, his narrow shoulders flexing slightly as his hands moved over Xena's armor with experienced ease.
"I assume that you have what we need to finish this out?"
"Of course," he replied in a distant voice. "Just let me know when you've finished."
"This stuff is biting into parts of me that I didn't know I had," Hope complained.
Xena smiled as she continued her work. "Don't worry about that. We'll fix it."
"I hope so." Hope replied with a grimace. "I think I know why mother never wore this stuff."
"In fact," Xena countered. "She had several sets that she used. She just didn't use them all the time."
"Probably because it was so uncomfortable," Hope replied.
"Remember," Xena said in an almost motherly tone. "This was what you wanted."
Behind them, the shopkeeper snickered just loudly enough for them to hear him.
Xena gave the leather thongs on the form fitted chest plate one more good, hard tug which made Hope gasp in pain.
"There," she said.
At the same moment, the shop keeper announced. "Done."
They both turned and exchanged places.
"Let me see," he said thoughtfully as he inspected Xena's work.
Xena studied her own armor closely. The new fittings looked perfect. If he had removed, cut, and refastened anything, the shop keeper was a master at it. Xena couldn't find where the repairs began or ended.
"Let me fasten the neck guard on as well," the shop keeper suggested. "Just for the purpose of this fitting. Afterwards, you can leave it off and only use it when you think it would be necessary."
He fastened the thick leather accoutrement around Hope's neck, making sure the protective pad slipped comfortably beneath the edge of her chest plate.
The design was simple and quite brilliant. With the neck guard in place, the wearer was covered from neck to waist in this, well oiled leather pads that were interlocked in a way that resembled snake scales. The burgundy and silver flashed like a thing alive in the sunlight.
"There," he smiled. "Now, when you're not in the thick of things, you can remove this piece and give yourself a little room to breathe."
He studied the item a moment.
"Where is the bottom of the guard hitting you?"
Hope drew a stiff hand up to a spot just above her chest.
"As I suspected," he nodded. He unfastened the neck guard and drew it off again. "I need to trim this down a touch. One moment."
He stepped back over to the table and drew a long, sharp knife. Quickly and neatly, he removed two inches from the bottom of the piece and then disappeared into his living quarters. He returned carrying a stack of buckets in various sizes.
He set the neck guard in one of the smaller ones and took up a large pail, slinging it over his shoulder.
"Very well," he nodded. "You may undress now."
"What?" Hope gasped.
"I'll be over at the well," He pointed to the well in the center of the small square. "I have a spare tunic hanging behind the door. It will belong enough for modesty. Just remove the armor and place the pieces in the buckets."
"Aren't you afraid we'll rob you blind the moment you walk out of here?" Xena asked.
"Will you?" He replied with a knowing smile. "Back in a moment."
"What was the point of me getting all of this on?" Hope asked, annoyed.
"So we could fit it as closely to your size as we could," Xena shot back.
Grumbling to herself, Hope stepped through the small doorway into the shop keepers' workplace. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but once they did, her armor was the last thing on her mind.
"Xena?" she said in awe. "You should see this."
"Just get out of that stuff, will you?" Xena shot back impatiently. "I don't want to be here all day."
The air was filled with the scent of leather. Old leather. Rotting leather. The kind of smell you get mingled with the stench of corpses after a battle. All along the walls hung suits of armor of many makes and many levels of quality, all of them coated in grime, and all of them nearly rotted away. They dangled like shreds of skin, hung on a butchers hook.
The table opposite the door was piled with a disorganized assortment of rusted or broken weapons, also of varying cultural designs.
Her green eyes flicked back, gazing through the open door to the small, narrow shouldered man drawing from the well. He was conversing happily with several small children as he pulled the heavy pail free of the well.
"Xena," she said again. "I really think you should see this."
Xena gave a little humph of exasperation and entered the room, stopping short just inside the doorway as the odor assailed her nostrils.
"What the hell is this?" she asked as she took it all in.
"This equipment looks like it was," Hope began.
"Taken from the dead?" a soft male voice finished.
Both women wheeled around, and Hope was surprised at how easily her hands found the hilts of her short swords.
"Yes," Xena replied.
The shopkeeper looked from one to the other and then nodded.
"That is because they were," he finished simply. "As was yours, my dear."
Hope was horrified. "But this is,"
"Good as new?" he finished for her. "Like it had never been worn? It is…again."
He turned and looked at Xena. "Just as yours has also been restored."
"Someone died in this armor," Hope gasped.
"Then surely, they no longer require it," He finished with a touch more ferocity. "Why must the thing die when the owner does as well? Why can the thing not be useful again?"
His dark eyes seemed to darken even more, and it seemed that the shadows in the room deepened with his bearing.
"What about the person who had this?" Hope demanded.
"Long ago turned to bones," The shop keeper replied. "The owner of those items has gone back to dust."
"And the rest of these?" Xena gestured to the moldering equipment strewn about the room.
"Hoplite weapons and armor from Sparta, Athenian and Ionian, and even some of the weapons and armor of the Persians." He shrugged. "And some others from less recent wars you would never have known about."
"You'd be surprised," Xena smiled coldly.
Hopes eyes widened in shock. "I know you."
The man smiled knowingly and nodded.
"Hope," Xena asked, looking back and forth between them. "What's going on?"
"Nearly there." The man answered.
Hope's mouth hung slack. "Entropis."
"And the child remembers," the man smiled and nodded. He looked to Xena and then back again. "I had not ever expected you to be as you are."
"I thought you had been destroyed," Hope stammered. "I was told that you,"
"Our father was never very good at being honest, little sister," Entropis replied. "He wished I had been destroyed. Probably still wishes it, I expect. But his power has diminished somewhat of late."
"Hang on a second," Xena interjected. "You two are related? That would mean that both of you are,"
"Children of Dahok," Entropis finished for her. "Yes."
"What happened to you?" Hope blurted.
"What has happened to you, little sister?" Entropis replied.
"Little sister?" Xena echoed. "How many children did Dahok have?"
"Many," Entropis replied quickly. "Many upon many, over the millennia, have been born to undertake some task or other in his name."
He looked back at Xena. "Some of us accept the calling, while others, if given the opportunity, rebel and turn aside from their appointed tasks. It takes a fiercely independent mind to be able to drown out the call of our father."
He looked back at Hope. "But always, a desire for separation is required before it can even begin, and I remember you as one of the most devout of our family."
"But Dahok has been defeated," Xena said.
"Evil can never truly be defeated, Xena," Entropis answered. "It can be conquered, or shaped, even changed to good." He looked down at Hope again and smiled. "But it can never be erased from existence. To do so would be to destroy all that is good in the world along with it."
"And how you have changed, sister," He finished, reaching a weathered hand to touch her cheek.
"It's a very long story," Hope replied, still in awe. She blinked suddenly. "How have you stayed hidden for so long? Even at my least powerful, I should have been able to feel your presence, but I couldn't?"
"I had a little help," Entropis smiled.
"So it was you at the courtyard last night," Xena concluded.
"Courtyard?" He replied. "Which courtyard?"
"By the inn where we were staying," Xena finished. "Don't even try and tell me that you didn't know."
"Oh I knew," Entropis nodded. "But I did not go there."
"How have you avoided me?" Hope demanded, pulling the conversation back in the way she wished it to go. "How could I not feel you?"
"If you have not learned that answer, then it is not my place to tell," Entropis smiled. "But you will learn soon enough."
"Learn what?" Hope begged.
"Let us see about this armor," Entropis said quickly. Suddenly, he was all business, critically checking over the gear. "And since we have no secrets here, now, I can dispense with the pleasantries."
He let his hands come to rest on Hope's shoulders and closed his eyes.
Hope felt a subtle tingling flow over her skin, as if energy were passing though her body, entering through her left shoulder and washing through every limb before passing out again through her right shoulder.
As Xena watched in amazement, the leather of the armor seemed to soften, swiftly molding itself to the contours of its new wearer. The stiff material became supple before hardening again.
"There," Entropis said with a breath. "How does the fit feel now?"
Hope moved her arms experimentally. Then she twisted at the waist and checked the rest of the armor. It moved as if it had been grafted to her body. Nothing bound or pinched. The sensation of it against her skin was comfortable, like a well worn shirt or coat.
Entropis reached past her and took a small flask of oil and a rag. He began expertly oiling the leather.
"I have endowed these armors with a little of my magic," he confided. "They will not wear out as quickly as most others would."
He looked up at Xena. "My gift to you for saving my sister."
"Oh, it wasn't," Xena offered. She stopped when he looked at her questioningly.
"It was my father that, well, snapped Hope out of it," Xena offered.
"I see." He moved about her.
"I don't understand," Hope asked. "Who helped you?"
"My wife," Entropis replied easily.
"And where is she?" Xena asked.
"She passed away some three centuries past," Entropis replied easily.
"Centuries?" Xena asked.
"It is partly how I survived," he explained. "I entered into the cycle of the living as one of them. I live, let my appearance age and decay, and then I die."
He smiled. "Then, when no one is looking, I leave the grave and move on to the next place, and the next, and the next, on through the ages."
"You're immortal?" Xena asked.
"Except for being destroyed by our father," Hope answered. "Most of my elder family was created immortal. He didn't change that until he began to have trouble with some of them disobeying or abandoning him." She looked at Entropis. "Like you."
"Like me," Entropis smiled. He finished wiping down Hope's boots and then moved out to where Xena's armor lay on the table and began oiling that.
He indicated the small children playing near the well with a nod of his head.
"I will remain among these people long enough to see Florina's children, or until Dalius there returns from finding his fortune," He grinned. "He wants to travel the world and see its wonders. Ah, the dreams of children."
His smile became somewhat sad. "Then one day, I'll just stop and wait till they find me. I'll be buried by the river, as I requested. I'll sleep for a time until the excitement dies down, then I'll rise and move off to the next place. Just as I have in the past."
He finished his work and stepped away from the table. "There you go ladies. All set."
"Thank you," Xena nodded.
"There is one more thing," Entropis smiled.
"And that is?" Xena asked.
"Well, considering where I actually found your armor," he looked at Hope. "I suppose I cannot charge you a price as if it was new, but I will require something. I am running a business here, after all?"
The two girls looked at each other and smiled.
Xena placed a purse of coins on the table. "I think that's fair."
Entropis held the purse for a moment and nodded.
"Very well," he escorted them to the fenced edge of his shop and then suddenly embraced Hope.
She stiffened at the affectionate contact.
"It is good to see you," he said sincerely. "You take care of yourself."
As the two of them walked away from the village, Hope found herself looking back over her shoulder at the small unobtrusive trader's shop that her brother called home.
Xena marked her companions' thoughtful expression. Where Gabrielle would be voicing her thoughts, Hope remained silent.
Xena studied the armor Hope wore, now contoured to her form and looking as if it had truly been crafted for her. It was of Mediterranean design, with a hint of eastern fashion mingled in functional burgundy and silver.
The interwoven leather of the bodice resembled idealized snake or dragon scales, alternating between deep burgundy and black, accented by the silver rivets that held them in place.
The bicep and bracers were similarly detailed with actual snake skins inlaid on the bracers while the bicep and shoulder protection was more molded in detail to accent the style of the suit. Her boots were a mingling of leathers, again dominantly burgundy in color, but with black and brown mixed in and clasped by silver toggles. Instead of breeches, she wore, like Xena, a skirt of overlapping burgundy and black plates sewn together in the same interwoven reptilian style.
Hopes new weapons, the two short curved swords hung comfortably at her hips.
"The suit looks good on you," Xena offered, hoping to start a conversation.
Once again, Hope looked back down the path they had traveled even though the village itself had long ago fallen from sight.
"It suits you," Xena finished with a small smile.
Hopes thoughtful frown refocused on her. "What do you mean?"
Xena shrugged. "It just does."
She considered for a moment. "Gabrielle was a warrior, in the end, but she never really embraced it."
Xena framed her words carefully. "And she had a different sense of style, I suppose. She wouldn't ever wear anything like I did, or like you are for that matter. The idea of seeing her in something like that just doesn't fit, you know?"
"But it fits me," Hope concluded.
"Yeah," Xena nodded. "In a strange way, it does. As much as you look like her, it suits you. It just makes it clear that you are your own person, I suppose."
Hope seemed to digest that for a moment. She looked down at her equipment, and then once again, looked back.
"Okay," Xena sighed. "Spill it."
"Hm?" Hope looked back up at Xena. "Oh, nothing."
Xena gave her a knowing look and borrowed a word from her father.
"Bullshit."
Hope stopped and looked back, and then she held her hands out indicating the armor and weapons she currently carried.
"Why would he help me?" she asked. "We were enemies for decades, brutal enemies. I was always told that if I found him I should destroy him on sight, period. He knew all that and yet, he gives me this?"
"Well, technically, we bought it from him," Xena countered.
"And before that, mother, Ian, the Druid, and even your father?" Hope went on. "People I would have swept aside without a second thought, and they all knew it. Still, they've all been nice to me, more than nice. They've saved my life, helped me get started, given me a fresh beginning. Why?"
"Because they love you, Hope," Xena countered. "They all saw something in you that gave them hope. Why do you think mom named you Hope?"
"I could be faking it," Hope offered.
"Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind," Xena replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I doubt it now more than I did a month ago."
"Why?"
"Because even the best con artist would have cracked somewhere along the way by now." Xena finished. "People can see that you are a good person, just by looking at you, Hope. They get that intangible feeling that says, 'it's okay'. Not like your old Ice Princess routine."
"But that is a part of me too," Hope said as they resumed walking.
"Yes it is," Xena nodded. "And you're going to have to figure out how best to use that part of yourself. That will take time, though. Kind of like the other things my dad dumped in your head."
"Time and patience," Hope nodded. She smiled wryly.
"Exactly."
They eventually left the woods and entered a large level clearing filled with the perfume and colors of wild flowers. The wind moved in undulating waves over the tall grasses, and the clouds coasted lazily by in the sky above.
"Time for a break," Xena offered.
The two of them sat down on a fallen log and enjoyed a small lunch.
"I want to try something," Xena said suddenly, as they were packing their things away.
"What?"
"You move well enough when you're meditating," Xena said. "But we haven't seen what you can do when you're in a real situation."
"Real situation?" Hope asked.
Xena set her pack on the ground and smiled.
"I think I can still kick your ass, okay?" she said with a smile.
Hopes eyebrows rose at the challenge and she also let her own pack fall to the ground.
"Oo," Xena teased.
"Okay," Hope smiled. "Let's see what happens."
They moved a short distance from the road and stood facing each other in the clearing.
"Ready?" Xena asked.
Hope nodded. Her expression was part anxious, part nervous.
"Okay," Xena dropped into a fighting stance. "Here we go."
Hope instinctively dropped into a stance of her own, moving around watching Xena for any signal of her intentions.
In a flash, Xena stepped up and unleashed a flurry of blows, all of which Hope deflected or dodged before ducking and spinning clear, creating a gap of precious space between them.
Xena smiled, side stepping slowly, her left hand inside, right hand leading.
"Not bad, sis," she nodded.
Hope smiled as she also stepped sideways and a little back, creating a greater comfort zone between them.
"Okay," Xena continued, beckoning to her. "Your turn."
"My turn?" Hope repeated with a short laugh.
Xena nodded. "Let's see what you got."
"Okay," Hope replied with a smile. "But I might hurt you?"
"Oh please!" Xena scoffed.
She had no time to say any more because Hope practically leapt in, striking with a combination of hands and feet, quick as lightning.
Even as the contest continued, their styles became less precise as they began to laugh uncontrollably.
Xena blocked another exchange and then leapt back, cart wheeling away even as Hope leapt into the air, spinning in a vicious roundhouse kick.
Hope landed neatly in a catlike crouch, smiling as Xena came back up in a low stance, arms in a defensive posture.
Slowly, she began clapping. The giggles exploded into exuberant laughter.
"Okay then," Xena nodded. "So dad taught you a few tricks."
"A few?" Hope laughed.
Xena nodded. "A few." She looked up at the sky and sighed. "We better keep going. We still have a lot of ground to cover before we catch up with those rumors about your old friends."
Hope grimaced. "Don't remind me."
They resumed their walking until the sun was setting then they found a small grove of trees and set up a hasty camp.
In no time at all, they had a small fire crackling merrily. The air was scented with burning oak, and the night animals made their music from beyond the firelight.
Hope sat near the fire, absently scratching the end of a small twig thoughtfully in the dirt at her feet.
Xena studied her for a long time, watching the subtle play of emotions on Hope's face. Instead of trying to open a discussion, she reached into her large traveling pack and drew a long bundle of cloth.
She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a beautifully crafted long red scabbard encasing an ornate eastern style sword.
It was, in fact, the sword she and Gabrielle had claimed in her past life, before she died. Gabrielle had claimed it as her own and then passed it on to her husband, David, who had used it in their adventures before Xena had been born into this life.
Hope's eyes locked on the weapon and her expression became haunted. This was also the sword that David had used in their final duel. She remembered the feel of that enchanted weapon stabbing through her flesh, and the power that had surged through it and her in that final exchange.
"Why did you bring that?" Hope asked.
"Well, I didn't want to leave it at home, unattended and I wasn't going to bother Sarah with watching it." Xena replied. "Besides, it never hurts to have a spare handy."
Hope was unconvinced. "What's the real reason?"
Xena shrugged. She studied the finely crafted scabbard with a hint of sadness.
"I don't feel like this should be with me now," she confided. "It doesn't belong."
"With you?" Hope pressed.
"With anyone in my family," Xena finished. "Once we get this whole thing sorted out, I'm going back to Japa."
She drew the magical blade from its scabbard. The silver flashed blood red and orange in the firelight.
"Gotcha!"
Hope jumped at the intrusive memory. Again she saw his face, smiling in fierce triumph even as her own weapon pierced his chest.
"Why go back to the place where you died?" she asked quietly.
"You came back to the house in Poditea?" Xena replied.
"I never died in Poditea," Hope's eyes were transfixed by the blade that had struck her. She felt a sympathetic twinge on her flesh where the old wound was.
"A part of you did," Xena replied. She lowered the weapon and laid it across her lap.
Hope's eyes followed the weapon. Her face bore a haunted expression, filled with remembered pain.
"You okay?" Xena asked as she began oiling the weapon.
"Yeah," Hope blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good," Xena continued working. "Then maybe you can explain a few things to me?"
Hope nodded.
"How many kids are actually in your side of the family?" Xena asked. "And do you know of any of them that could pose as you and pull it off?"
Hope smiled grimly. "There were quite a lot, but only a few like Entropis, had any real abilities."
"Like who?" Xena asked.
"Well," Hope considered. "My sister, Desarina. She has a lot of the same abilities that I did, but she disappeared generations ago. Besides, she could never be mistaken for me. She wasn't the most athletic person in the world. Then there was Entropis and his twin brother Atrophis."
"I remember dad mentioning Atrophis," Xena nodded. "And his partner, Quintis."
"Quintis?" Hope frowned. "Oh, you mean Vashanka. Yeah, that was dad's failed attempt to blend two theologies together under his belt. He gave that idea up and had Vashanka help Atrophis after Entropis disappeared. Vashanka was destroyed. No one's seen or heard from Atrophis for a long time."
"From what I remember about mom and dad's encounter with them. Atrophis was pretty powerful, and Quintis," Xena stopped. "Vashanka, I mean. He was able to shape shift, among other things."
"True," Hope agreed. "But even if Atrophis was back, he wouldn't be leading an army. It wasn't his style at all."
"Oh?"
Hope shook her head. "He was kind of a silent loner, you know? He liked working in the shadows, unseen until it was too late. If I needed something done subtly, I would use him. He never liked the whole 'mass of troops' thing."
She considered for a moment. "In fact, Quintis was the first one to actually work with him for an extended period of time."
"And that was after Mom and David got together," Xena nodded.
Hope took a drink of water and nodded. "He and Vashanka had infiltrated an old temple and were recruiting followers for my father through some academy or something. Again, all very quiet and subtle."
"Until my folks drop in and start stirring up the pot." Xena smiled.
"That was the last any of us heard from Vashanka," Hope finished.
"Dad banished him," Xena said simply. "That's why."
Hope's eyes were wide in amazement. "Banished? Only a high priest or someone one step away from being a God can do that?"
"My dad was a priest," Xena smiled. "And a darn powerful one too."
"Apparently," Hope suppressed a shudder.
"And I think you will be too," Xena finished. "Someday."
Hope gave her a stern look. "I already was a powerful priestess," she shot back.
"Exactly," Xena grinned and stretched out on her sleeping roll. "Good night." Hope lay back and stared up at the stars twinkling in the heavens. She was tired, even more so than before because of her workout with Xena, and yet she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and let her mind sink into slumber. She knew the faces would be there, emerging from the blackness, chanting names she never learned or could not consciously remember. Then she would fine herself in the temple again, awash in remembered blood as the drums boomed around her, drowning out the waking universe. She kept her eyes fixed on the twinkling lights above, hoping against hope that's he could carry that image into slumber and achieve one night of unhaunted dreams.
As she lay in silence, listening to the echoes of the night creatures and their mix of music, she watched the moon rising over distant hills. Its pale light shone silver among the trees and rippled in undulating waves upon the small pond beside their camp.
"Hope."
The voice seemed to echo across the still water without having made a sound.
She sat up and gazed across the silvery pond, watching the trees on the opposite side.
She looked across the campfire to where Xena lay curled up in her blanket. Gently, she moved beside her and lifted the cover.
She jumped back when she uncovered nothing more than the bony remains of a corpse, dressed in the same perfect armor worn by her sister. She let out a squeal of fright and scooted back as the skull rolled over and seemed to stare at her with its grinning, fleshless countenance.
A soft, evil laughter echoed across the pond, and this time, the water moved with the sound, radiating like small waves after a stone is dropped.
The flames of the campfire changed into an unholy green, and the silver light of the moon dimmed to deep crimson.
Hope got to her feet, her senses sharpening.
"This is only a dream," she said aloud.
"Yes it is," the soft icy female voice replied. "Only a dream."
She recognized the cadence, the coolness with which the mysterious voice spoke. It was hauntingly familiar in some way.
"Dreams are where we plan to create the world in which we live. Dreams are the destiny of the great, made manifest in the waking world."
"Who are you?" Hope asked. She slowly moved around the edge of the lake towards the shadowy trees.
"Don't you know?" the voice replied in a mocking tone, laced with venom.
That was the most uncomfortable aspect of this entire situation. Hope felt that she did know that enigmatic voice. It was familiar in a way that sent a shiver up her spine.
She moved into the darkness beneath the boughs and stepped gingerly among the gnarled roots reaching up from the earth. Her right hand came to rest upon the hilt of one of her weapons as her wide eyes moved back and forth, scanning the shadows.
"What are you going to do with that?" the voice asked. "We both know that you no longer have the will within you to truly use it."
"I might surprise you," Hope retorted, trying to project a confidence she did not feel.
"I doubt it," she heard the reply. "You will never use that as you are now."
Icy fingers encircled her upper arm and she was spun around with a startled cry.
The face staring back at her was her face, but the eyes were dull, black and lifeless. The flesh was pale and cold on her skin.
"I wouldn't hesitate, however," it sneered.
Hope recoiled away from the apparition, her mouth dropping open in horror.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The figure merely extended its arms in a theatrical shrug and smiled a smile that seemed to freeze the very air.
"Who are you?" it asked.
In a flash, the creature was before her. There was just enough time for Hope to realize the thing had closed upon her and then fire blasted through her chest as she went flying back.
She slammed into a thick tree with a crunch and slid down to the earth.
The doppelganger looked at her as if she were some revolting insect that should be squashed.
"You're nothing," she sighed. "You've become weak."
"Some rules can be bent," A memory clicked in her mind. "Others can be broken."
It was a matter of perspective. The fire in her back was there because she believed it should be there.
She let her mind clear, focusing inward, away from the pain and felt it subside with an ease she had not expected.
She rose to her feet and drew both of her weapons.
"Try that again," she said quietly.
Had the laughter been truly mirthful, it would have had a musical tone, pleasing to the ear. In this case, however, it was more akin to a snake hissing.
"Of course."
The evil clone leapt in and attacked with a ferocity that Hope was unprepared for. She fought desperately and managed to beat the creature back, her small swords hissing and whistling through the air.
At last, after the ferocious exchange, they separated.
"Not bad," the doppelganger admitted with a cruel smile. Then she leapt in again, and this time, after several really savage blows, she scored a hit.
Hope rolled with the painful impact and came up in a crouch, her weapons out, her golden hair hanging in matted strings in front of her eyes.
This time, Hope didn't wait for an attack. She took the initiative and charged in. Her weapons sliced to and fro attempting to cleave her evil mirror image. There were moments where she could have sworn her weapons bit into her opponent, but there were no injuries apparent.
Then the world was suddenly twisted sideways and she flew back again, struck by a vicious kick.
On reflex alone, Hope rolled over, coming up on one knee, weapons ready.
The doppelganger spat in disgust. "Pathetic. You even move like him now."
She leaned forward, taunting. "Is your mind filled with all those romantic notions of his as well? Love and happiness, peace and tranquility, morals and compassion?"
She folded her hands across her chest and stared at her with dark, lifeless eyes.
"Look at everything you've lost." It said. "Come back to me and reclaim what you've lost."
"Come back?" Hope frowned.
Somewhere in the distance she heard the sound of a wolf or dog baying.
"You can't do anything without me!" the doppelganger said. "It was me! Always when you needed to take action, when you needed to do what had to be done in your father's name, I was the one who made it possible!"
Hope lowered the weapons and stared in horror at the creature. "You?"
"Have all that power back, right now!" it said. "Don't wait for it, take it back now!"
"What are you?" Hope whispered.
The sound of the baying animals was closer now, and there was more than one, she was certain of it.
"I'm you," it replied. "I'm the real you. The you that you should be. I am what you were meant to be!"
"You're not me," Hope replied. "You couldn't be!"
"You are a Child of Dahok!" its voice rose in anger. "Not this weak, compassionate mortal thing!"
"No," Hope whispered, feeling her body tremble.
"Don't deny it!" The creature screamed at her. "Don't think for one second that this act you're putting on will grant you absolution! You are beyond absolution! You have a destiny, pre written for you within Dahok's order! You can't just walk away!"
"I have," Hope let her weapons fall to the ground. "Others have. I don't have to be that person ever again."
"You are that person!" It shouted back. "You have no choice!"
"There's always a choice," Hope replied. "Always!"
The creature leapt forward, scooping up one of Hopes discarded weapons. The blade stopped against Hope's throat. She felt the blade sting against her flesh.
"Here's your choice!" It hissed at her. "Return to Dahok or die!"
"I feel sorry for you," Hope said.
"What?" The creature frowned.
"Is this really what I was?" Hope asked. "This unfeeling, uncaring creature moving like a plague through the world?"
"This is who you are!" It hissed. "This is what you are!"
Hope shook her head and reached up to move the blade aside.
"You can't kill
me without killing yourself," Hope said. The weapon moved aside and
eventually fell back to the ground.
"I am you!" it hissed.
"And you, we are a Child of Dahok!"
"No," Hope reached up to embrace the specter. "We can be more."
"What are you doing?" it shrank back, showing fear for the first time.
Quickly, Hope wrapped her arms about the creature's neck and drew it to her.
"You are a part of me," she whispered even as it struggled against her. "But only a part. And I won't be able to survive without you."
The doppelganger struggled in her grip, screaming and howling even as Hope felt it weaken and begin to fade.
It seemed to draw itself into her body, melding with her psyche. She could feel the darker aspects of her soul merging with her new found morality. It was a sensation that almost resembled pain.
Her legs gave out and she toppled forward. Her green eyes faded, darkening to the death orbs of the creature she was embracing as a fury more pure than anything she had ever remembered began to flow through her veins.
Just as swiftly as it began, the torrent subsided. Her eyes returned to the clear, sparkling green. She looked up, feeling the trip hammer of her heart in her chest, and locked eyes with another creature, large, black, dog-like, with snarling yellow teeth and eyes the color of burning coals.
The dog growled like a roll of thunder, its lips twitching as it snarled. Saliva dripped from its teeth and fell, steaming onto the damp earth.
"Nice doggie," Hope whispered shakily. She slowly backed away on her hands and knees. "Good doggie."
She managed to get into a crouch under that evil red gaze before she saw the second beast of to her left.
Her fingers wrapped slowly around the grips of her weapons.
"Easy," she whispered. "Easy."
One of the creatures lowered its head, its pointed ears lay back flat against its oily black skull. It snapped and snarled once at her.
Hope started, taking a step back away from the beasts.
That sudden movement was all the two brutes needed. With a howl, they pounced.
Hope ducked away from one and felt the other impact her, driving her to the ground.
The creature rolled off of her body, snapping and barking angrily.
Hope didn't think. She simply got her feet beneath her and ran as fast as she could.
She risked a single look back just in time to see the bigger of the two leaping after her, its smoking jowls wide open to clamp down upon her throat. She felt her foot catch on something and she pitched forward with a cry.
When she struck the earth, it was not the soft carpet of dried forest leaves. Rather, she felt the sting of hard packed ground and stones against her palms and cheek.
"Welcome, child," a soft feminine voice greeted her. It was low, husky and seductive and yet at the same time dry with age. "We meet at last."
Hope raised her eyes and found a figure, clad in dark robes, staring down at her with two deep glowing yellow eyes.
She was tall, and appeared to be of middle age, wrapped in a hooded robe that swirled around her in an unfelt breeze.
In each of her hands she bore a single torch of golden yellow flame. They flickered and danced, casting vibrating shadows on the packed ground.
A glance behind found the two dogs seated on their haunches, blocking the way back. Two paved paths stretched before her in opposing directions with the robed figure standing in the center of the intersection.
"Who are you?" she asked once she had found her voice.
"Your benefactor," the figure replied. "Was my child."
"David?" Hope asked.
The figure nodded. "Just as his devotion to me awakened me in this time, his sacrifice paved the way for you to come before me."
"I don't understand," Hope frowned. "Who are you?"
"A guardian, of sorts," the figure replied. "I present choices and move the future of the world forward, always forward."
"Guardian?" Hope asked, glancing back nervously at the dogs.
"They will not harm you," it said, seeing the anxiety in Hope's expression. "They merely close one path behind you. You must now choose one of the two paths before you."
"Before me?" Hope asked. "But I have so many things I need to go back and atone for?"
"While you ma atone for the past," the figure replied. "You cannot return to the past in the way you seek."
"David did it," Hope countered before she could stop herself.
"David had a destiny to fulfill," the robed woman replied easily. "He is one of those few, great people to whom the laws of the universe tend to apply loosely, if at all."
"Was, you mean," Hope corrected with just a touch of sadness. "Because of me."
"He still is, Hope," The figure replied. "He still lives in another place, another time, in the arms of his beloved once again."
"He and mother are together again?" Hope felt a strange sort of relief at those words.
"They are." The figure replied. "It is the path that he often chooses when he returns to me."
"I guess that's sort of a relief," Hope looked down.
"Now it is your time to choose." The figure replied. "You may return to who you were or seek out who you are." The figure gestured to the two branches in the road respectively.
"I thought I couldn't go backward?" Hope asked.
"You cannot reclaim the deeds, or the days," the figure explained. "You can only move forward. But you can choose how you manifest yourself as you move forward. That is the choice that brings you before me."
"I don't want to be who I was," Hope said.
"Why?" the figure asked neutrally. "You were powerful, rivaling any priest or priestess in any temple in any kingdom."
"That wasn't me," Hope replied. "Not the real me."
"And this is?" the spirit asked. "This countenance is the real, true self within your heart?"
"Yes," Hope nodded. "Well, I think so. It's more me than I was before. Everything means more to me as I see it now. Before, I never saw anything beyond the mission of my father."
"Make your choice," The figure said in a soft, yet commanding tone. By your choice will I know your heart."
The cold portion of her soul began quietly prodding again even as she rationalized both options. Before the darkness inside her could win her over, she turned and ran down the path…
And sat up with a soft cry dying on her lips. She was covered in cold sweat and her heart was racing.
"What was all that?" she managed to ask the night.
"The end of a chapter," A soft voice whispered behind her.
She rolled over and got her legs beneath her, anticipating an attack.
Across the pond she could barely make out the shadow of the figure she had encountered in her dream.
It stood statuesque on the far bank, yellow eyes fixed upon her. At her feet, on either side, the two dogs sat or lay, staring hungrily at her.
"Who are you?" Hope asked again.
"You will know me, child," the figure replied. "As you come into your own."
The next day, Xena noticed something about her companion as they traveled. She was more talkative and cheerful than she had been up to that point. In spite of her somewhat tired appearance, she seemed filled with energy. It was as if some huge weight had been lifted from Hope's shoulders. She seemed more aware of the world around her, more enthralled by its beauty and variety.
"Okay," Xena finally said when she could bear it no longer. "What's going on?"
"What?" Hope asked with a smile.
"This?" Xena gestured to her. "One day you're Miss Morose and the next morning you're so happy and bubbly it's making me want to smack you!"
"Yeah," Hope grinned. "Isn't it great?"
"Gabr-" Xena stopped. "Hope! What's going on?"
At the slip, Hope's expression sobered a little.
"Sorry," Xena offered.
"No," Hope shook her head. "It's alright."
Hope's smile returned. "It's fine."
Xena fixed her with a glare. "But the question remains. What's going on?"
Hope considered her words for a moment.
"I woke up this morning and realized something wonderful," she began. "I'm free. I mean absolutely, totally and completely free and it's the most incredible feeling!"
"Yeah?" Xena asked, folding her arms across her chest.
"Don't you see?" Hope replied. "I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want! I can see the world and help the people in it! I mean really help them! I can see the inner goodness in things in a way that I never could before and it's wonderful!"
"That's nice," Xena sighed. She had expected Hope to have some emotional issues in the beginning, but she hadn't expected this. "Tell me, what brought on this incredible revelation?"
"I had a dream last night," Hope began excitedly. "I met this person, well two people really, but one of them was me, but it really wasn't me, you know? It was like my evil twin, a dark side of me, if that makes any sense?"
"More than you think," Xena nodded.
Hope ran through her encounter with her darker self and Xena found her own mind wandering back to a similar encounter in her past life where she, too, had encountered a darker aspect of her past and had been forced to acknowledge it for what it was before she could conquer it.
"And when that part was all over, I think I met the Goddess that David followed," Hope finished.
"You think?" Xena asked.
Hope nodded. "And she told me that one chapter of my life was over and another had just begun."
"Hope," Xena explained. "That doesn't mean it all goes away. It just means that you've made it through that part of your life and onto something new and better. The memories will still be there."
"I know," Hope nodded. "But David said something that I'm finally starting to understand."
"And that is?" Xena asked.
"That those faces won't ever go away," Hope's mood dipped a bit. "But that I could learn to be friends with them, eventually."
"Be friends with them?" Xena asked. She considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I can understand that."
She was about to say more when a scent met her nose. She stopped and sniffed the air.
"What is it?" Hope asked.
The scent was faint, bittersweet and unmistakable.
"This way," Xena pointed in a direction leading off the main road.
They continued through the trees along a rough path that meandered along a small noisy creek. A soft pale mist was drifting along the ground.
Suddenly, Hope stopped. "I smell it now." She said in horror. She was all too familiar with the odors of death.
They continued towards the wafting smells. Eventually they began to hear the soft crackling of burning fires, and the smoke took on the charred scent of wood.
"What is this place?" Hope asked.
"Hunting camp," Xena replied.
They entered a small clearing and found the remains of the camp.
A roughly constructed cabin, reminiscent of the one that Hope had recovered in after escaping prison, sat in the center of the clearing, its roof partially collapsed and smoking.
Several tents were also scattered about the place, all torn and rent. Tatters of cloth fluttered in the acrid breeze.
In spite of this horror, it was the bodies lying here and there among the grasses that transfixed Hope.
Xena moved through the carnage, her sword in her hand. It looked like two groups of hunters had set up the place as a central hub to eat and sleep, providing mutual protection for them.
Xena finished her circuit and found no one alive.
"We need to get going." She called to Hope. "There's nothing we can do for these people."
When her sister failed to answer, Xena turned and saw her kneeling on the ground.
"Hope," Xena said, stepping over to her.
The child couldn't have been more than six or seven years of age, a boy in the beginnings of life, now with a cut throat, lay in Hope's lap, his clear dark eyes staring up at the sky in wide wonder.
"Oh no," Xena whispered.
"Did you feel, about me, the way I feel right now about the people who did this?" Hope asked in a voice laced with old familiar venom.
Xena took a deep breath. "Yes."
Hope stroked the dead boy's hair and closed his eyes. Her own were filled with unreleased tears, frozen in outrage.
"There had to be a reason for this," Xena continued. "This is a small camp, out of the way. They shouldn't have known about it."
Hope gently lay the boy back on the ground and focused on the half demolished hut.
"Maybe they knew it was here," she said in a hoarse voice.
"How would they?" Xena asked.
Hope got to her feet and walked purposefully towards the building.
She stood in the entrance studying the interior.
"What is it?" Xena asked.
In the center of the room, a portion of the floor had been lifted away revealing a hidden chamber. The wooden planks and coverings lay in a burning heap off to one side.
"They knew this place was here," Hope growled. She ducked into the building and dropped lightly into the pit.
When she climbed back out again, she held a bundle and a single sword in her hand.
She handed the weapon to Xena and then unfurled the cloth with a quick snap of her arms.
"This is like the weapons your priests used to use," Xena began. Then she saw the robe that Hope was holding, also like the followers of Dahok.
"This was once a shrine to Dahok," Hope said darkly. "Many years ago, we also used it as a weapons cache. We stored weapons and supplies here beneath the altar. My father protected them so that they would not decay and would remain as they were till the time they were needed. Whoever killed these people was involved with my inner circle, Xena. Because I only trusted them with the knowledge of places like this."
"Which one could it be?" Xena asked.
At that, Hope frowned. "I don't know."
She ran thoughts back in her mind.
"The day we faced your family in Poditea," hope continued. "I brought my entire inner council with me. And when David finally arrived, he managed to kill all of them. At least that's what I was led to believe?"
"Is it possible that one of them survived?" Xena asked.
Hope shrugged. "Maybe, but I doubt it. We both know how your father fights when he's enraged. Nothing escapes him when he reaches that point."
"Then there has to be someone else," Xena offered.
"Where's the nearest village?" Hope asked suddenly.
"There's a fishing village called Hebrus a few hours from here," Xena informed her.
"Hebrus," Hope echoed.
She found her eyes looking down at the dead child. "After we lay these people to rest," she finished sadly.
They took some time and respectfully wrapped each body in whatever cloth they could find, mostly blankets and tent canvas. Next, they built a pyre from the ruined wood of the hut and tents.
Hope laid the corpse of the boy on the pyre last, her hand pausing for a moment on the top of his head.
Xena saw the emotion in Hope's face, falling back into melancholy. She sniffed and turned away.
Xena stepped forward and set a lit torch among the timbers beneath the bodies. The flames leapt up hungrily as the two women stood respectfully a short distance away.
"I swear," Hope whispered. "I will make this right. I'll make it all right."
TBC
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