I wait patiently in the shadow of the veil that separates the mortal world from my own dimension. Gabrielle has been in the tomb for hours. She's struggling to say what she knows will be her final goodbye to Xena. Even through the veil, I can feel her pain, her suffering, but I can also feel her simmering rage. "I hope it is worth it, Xena, " I hear her whisper. When she finally leaves the tomb she says, "may you find your peace." But the comment is laced with a hint of disgust.
I wait a few minutes to see if Gabrielle will return. She doesn't. I emerge from the aether and step into the mortal plane. The dry air of the tomb assaults my nose. But worse is the image of Xena's urn resting on the heart of Lyceus's sarcophagus. I want to scream. I want to blast the place to Tartarus with fireballs. I force myself to reach into the silver core of calmness that radiates deep within my swirling chaos. With measured steps I move toward the urn. Despite what I told Gabrielle in the temple about Xena not being in that urn, I know that there is still power in the matter that made up my warrior, the unique elements that combined to create that magic that was Xena. I close my hands around the small vase and let energy course through me as I seal the urn for safekeeping.
A pinprick through the aether touches me. The nearness of her DNA allows me to feel her soul signature more readily. But her aura has faded from a dark royal purple to a warm lilac. How long until she washes out and passes from my reach? How long until her awareness of this life vanishes and she is consumed into the wash of souls and reborn as another? Will the gods of Jappa allow her that peace, that absolution, or will they keep her forever at mauve, faded to the point of slim recognition, where only pain and regret keep her company?
"Xena," I call to her, pushing against barriers that I know well not to cross.
Her soul flares and courses bright violet for a minute as if blood red feeds her lilac river. I wish that I could see her instead of her palette. The need is strong and I push harder against the locks that separate us. I feel her responding to my reach and I'm surprised to find that she is pleased to feel me. More than that, she's trying to communicate with me. I concentrate on the center of her aura, the darkest indigo and suddenly she is glimmering before me.
"Ares," she breathes, not really because she has no form, but it sounds breathy. It's laced with such longing that I allow myself to imagine for a brief moment that the strength of our mutual desire could generate enough energy to propel her back into the mortal world.
"Xena," my voice is loud in the tomb and echoes in the chamber. The way it breaks with the tears in my throat mocks me because I have to hear the weakness repeated with every ripple.
"I did a good thing. It was a warrior's death. Wish you could've seen it."
Anger bubbles in me. How does she think I could ever be proud of her death? Valiant or not! I won't give her the praise she seeks. I can and will deny her this. "Hardly. Leading yourself to slaughter so that others may be reborn into the cycle of violence and misery that is the mortal coil doesn't make you a hero, Xena. It makes you a fool. They'll all end up right back there with you. Elysium could have been yours, you were on the path. But now, you'll never see them again. Lyceus, Solan, Marcus. Those you fought so hard to bring to peace will wait forever for your return. And Gabrielle. Her fate is yet to be determined. She's become something of a hero, she's knocking on the door of Elysium herself." I reach up and caress the image of Xena's face. I'm surprised that she feels it but I see her soul ripple with a warm shiver that darkens her aura. Then, I give her my wickedest grin, "but there is still time where Gabrielle is concerned. She's hurting. She'll need comfort. The kind that only a god can give. Goodbye Xena." I watch as fire floods her aura. Lilac gives way to mulberry, which in turn turns to eggplant, until finally her full aura is vibrating a perfect black plum.
Before she can speak, that barrier between us has been closed. I'm being shut out. They are on to me, the gods of the Jappa underworld. I shouldn't have lingered. But I needed to see her. I should have bided my time. No, she was already fading. It was the right choice to goad her. To give her an incentive to maintain the connection to her life as Xena.
I fight the urge to reestablish the connection. If I'm lucky they won't know it was me. They'll just think it was her seeking hope. As I become more aware of the mortal space that I am in, I feel the urn in my hands. I become increasingly aware that the ashes may not be enough. With a thought I disappear from the tomb and reappear in the cavern of Kronos.
AXAXAXAXAXAXAXAX
I always wondered how Xena could do it? How could she feel him lurking about her? Somehow she always seemed to know when he was nearby. When I felt him there with me in the tomb, I almost said something to him, but the fact that he didn't make his presence obvious stayed my hand. He probably wanted time alone with her, a chance to say his own goodbye, in his own way. But I took my time. I needed to forgive her but the harder I tried, the madder I got. And the madder I got, the more I could feel him there, burning with red-orange destruction. But there was something else there, a bright white determination. An eternal flame, unmovable and undeniable. I felt it once before, his power. The essence of Ares. Alluring, terrifying, revolting, and demanding. No wonder Xena was always turned topsy turvy from his touch, his voice, his scent. The fact that he doesn't materialize makes it easier to pull away, to leave the tomb, to leave his presence.
I walk across the field that leads to town. Drawn to no place in particular, I meander through the village of Amphipolis that has only begun to put itself back together. So much violence has touched the place. Is it cursed? Should I go to Potidea? Should I continue down Xena's path, the Way of the Warrior? Can I be the Battling Bard? Does it matter without her? Once, I longed to tell stories, to fill my heart and head with tales of heroes and adventures. I could go to the Amazons. I could take my place as a Queen. But I have never really felt like a Queen. I've used the position when it suited our needs but the clothes were itchy. They never felt quite right on my skin. No, my place has always been beside Xena.
I reach down and touch the chakram at my hip. Memories spark in golden showers of light. One by one visions of Xena throwing the weapon at enemies fill my mind. I remember with vivid clarity when Xena merged the dark and light to create the balanced weapon I now possess.
"Gabrielle?" A voice calls, "But, it can't be!"
I look at the man. His long dark hair has thinned and turned more grey than dark. But his long nose and bright blue eyes are the same. The creases around his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. "It is you. But how? And where's my little sister? I could certainly use her help."
"Toris." I take my hand from my hip. His eyes move to the chakram. His face falls. He's done the math.
"When?" He asks.
"It's been almost a full moon cycle. She rests with Lyceus now. I'm sorry."
"Me too." He pulls me into a hug. When he releases me, he looks to the ground. "I once warned her that she would get you killed. And now, I find that I'm in great need of your help."
"Help? In what way?"
I watch as he extends his arm toward the village. "I've spent the better part of six months rebuilding this town. But now, a group of raiders have been demanding tribute. We can't pay their demands. It seems like I'm doomed to end life the way it began. I can't run this time. I know that Xena and Lyceus were right to fight for our people. I've no right to ask—"
"You're not asking. I'm offering. I'll put this weapon in the service of Amphipolis." I grab the chakram. "That's how I will honor her."
"Come to the tavern with me. I'll fill your belly and fill you in."
"Lead the way," I say and officially start my first mission without my mentor, my best friend.
AXAXAXAXAXAXAXAX
How long has it been? I wonder as I float effortlessly through a verdant wood. It seems only this morning that Gabrielle and I sat out for lands east of Greece but it also seems like decades have passed since the messenger from Jappa found us. Time has no meaning here. Neither does form. The verdant wood gives way to an oceanscape and I find that I'm sitting on a large boulder as seafoam green waves lap against the stone. The sound comforts me, soothes me, but it also pulls me, though I'm not sure toward what. I look out across the sea where a grey mist hovers above the water. Is there a distant shore? Do I hear a siren's call? I dip my toe, testing the water. It turns murky, inky black. It is as if it washes the darkness out of me. I jerk my toe away.
I was with Gabrielle as she sailed away from Jappa, but the farther she took my ashes from my spirit prison the weaker the bond became. Finally, I had to leave her with only memories. And all I had left of her were my own. I've run through them again and again. I can still hear her laugh, I remember the way the sun bounced off of her blonde hair, so much like Lyceus. Lyceus, I wonder if my ashes rest with him yet. I try to focus on Lyceus for a minute and suddenly the landscape shifts again. There is sand. It's everywhere. I hear a cry for help. I turn, Lyceus is there in quicksand. I reach for his hand but it's not material. He sinks, choking as his face is buried and his hands reach frantically for the sky. I hear a cackle. It's not Lyceus, I turn expecting Callisto but only a black serpent shadow slithers in the air before me before diving deep into the sand. The sand dissolves and I find myself once again in the peaceful woodland. I avoid thinking about the past and try to enjoy the peaceful scene around me.
I find a walkway of polished light grey river stones and follow it to a tranquil waterfall. I imagine the water is cold but I know that without flesh, the temperature does not matter. I stop and watch the water cascade effortlessly into the pool twenty feet below. I don't know how long I hover there, minutes, hours, weeks, but eventually I feel a tug at my consciousness. A familiar power beckons me. Is it behind the waterfall? I move that way but the landscape upends again and I find myself deep in a cave. No, it's not a cave. A forge. It's burning red hot but I can't feel the heat.
"Xena." I hear his voice. It's a greeting and a command. But, something's missing. Something visceral. His physical, his essence, his form, his warmth. How had I never noticed? No, it's not that I didn't notice. I chose to ignore it.
"Ares, " I answer and find that I am hungry for him. For his touch, his breath on my skin, his lips against mine. I didn't say goodbye to him. I couldn't.
He says my name again. And it is my name. I am Xena. I am his Warrior Princess. I can't see him. I want so badly to see him. The urge to tell him that I didn't fail him is overwhelming. I start ranting about a noble death, a warrior's death. The fire in the forge in front of me goes black, cold, dead. And, I'm surprised to realize that I feel the cold. His warmth has truly and finally been taken from me.
He mocks me. Worse, he shows me the thing that I will never have: true absolution and a hero's death. His words about the cycle of life and death resonate. The distant shore. The way the darkness seeped out of my soul when I dipped my toe in. He's right. Those souls can be reborn. I can be reborn. They were trapped not by my deeds but by their own pain. All I have to do is find the courage to let go, to cross to the other side. To let Xena bleed out of me and become anew. I'm almost convinced that I should run to the shore but then he says something about Gabrielle. What does he mean comfort? Has she gone to him? Heat flares inside of me. Heat I had forgotten. Jealousy? Madness? Rage?
But then he's gone. Spirits converge on me. Surround me. I'm pulled through a torii, across a wooded walkway bounded on two sides by lily ponds filled with blooming pink lotus flowers. Finally, the spirits that are shackled to me force me into a teahouse and slam the door shut. Everything is dark except a lone firefly that has landed on the wall. None of this is real, none of this is manifest, I try to yell, but I find that the harder I push the more I am squeezed until finally, I let the dark win.
