Chapter 9: A Reckless Choice

Doria moved fast, trying to keep up with Lexa's wiggling. The baby let out a happy squeal, kicking her legs right when Doria needed her to stay still.

"By the gods, Lexa, can you hold still for two heartbeats?" Doria muttered, reaching for a clean cloth. She shot a glance over her shoulder. "Tara, bring me a warm wet cloth."

Tara sat at the table, absently nodding. "Okay."

She didn't move.

Doria was too busy keeping Lexa from squirming off the bed to notice right away. But Tara had already drifted somewhere far beyond the room, lost in thought.

None of it made sense. First, Poma had been wearing Borias' jewelry, claiming it was a gift. Now, after everything she overheard in the hut, the pieces weren't adding up.

She had always thought of Borias as a trustworthy man. A warrior, a father, a leader. He wasn't the type to sneak around. But now, as she played everything over in her mind, she wasn't so sure.

She knew he had a family before Xena. A woman. Maybe even children. But she didn't know them. She only knew this Borias—the one who stood by Xena's side, the one who fought for her, the one who gave her children.

She thought Xena was the love of his life. She still believed that. But now... doubt lingered. Her fingers drummed against her knee as she made up her mind. She was going to Poma's hut again. It was time for answers.

"Tara!" Doria's voice rang out from the other room, loud and sharp, making Tara jump.

"What is taking so long? Are you warming the cloth with your breath? Get in here before this child grows up and changes her own diaper!" Tara blinked, realizing she hadn't moved a muscle. She looked at her own empty hands, then at the basin of water, then back at the door.

"Oh." She scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking her chair over in the process, and rushed toward the basin.

"Would've been faster if you got it yourself," she muttered under her breath, but Doria's voice had already started up again, promising a fate worse than death if Tara didn't hurry.

Lexa let out another delighted squeal, as if she, too, was enjoying the show. Tara rolled her eyes, wringing out the cloth before stomping into the other room. "Here," she said, slapping it into Doria's waiting hand.

Doria clicked her tongue. "You act like I'm asking you to fetch water from a frozen stream. You're just handing me a cloth." Tara didn't bother responding.

Doria finished settling Lexa into her small cot, tucking the blanket around her tiny frame. The baby stirred for a moment but quickly drifted off, her soft breaths steady and peaceful. Solan was already asleep, curled up under his own blanket, his small hand clutching a wooden toy.

Doria stood for a moment, watching them. They were safe, resting. That was all that mattered. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked into the front of the house, expecting to see Tara still sitting at the table. But the bench was empty.

Frowning, she glanced toward the back rooms. Where did that girl wander off to now?

Shaking her head, she called out, raising her voice loud enough to carry through the house. "Tara! I'm heading out with Thessa! Lunch is cooking, keep an eye on it!"

She waited a moment, but there was no response. With a huff, she adjusted her shawl. Probably off in her room, sulking or daydreaming.

Inside, Tara was stretched across her bed, staring at the ceiling, completely lost in thought. Borias. Poma. The bracelet. The hushed conversation. It all gnawed at her. A faint voice broke through her thoughts—Doria's. But the words were muffled, distant.

What did she say? Tara wondered. She sat up slightly, then shrugged to herself. Probably nothing important.

"Okay!" she hollered back.

Doria, satisfied with the response, gave a final glance toward the children's room before heading to the door. She pulled it shut behind her and stepped into the afternoon sun, her mind already on her errands.

Poma's hut wasn't far. She could be there and back before anyone noticed. Besides, the kids were already down for their nap. They wouldn't even know she was gone.

Tara stood, grabbing her cloak and throwing it over her shoulders. "I'll only be gone a few minutes," she muttered to herself. "What's the worst that could happen?"

She slipped out the door without a second thought, heading toward Poma's hut. The village had settled into its usual rhythm, the hum of daily life filling the air. Tara reached Poma's hut in record time, knocking once before pushing the door open.

Poma was seated at a small table, absently running her fingers over the bracelet on her wrist. When she looked up and saw Tara, a slow, amused smile spread across her lips.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite little shadow," Poma said, leaning back in her chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tara stepped inside. "I want the truth," she said, crossing her arms.

Poma lifted an eyebrow. "Truth about what, exactly?"

"About you and Borias," Tara shot back.

Poma let out a soft laugh. "Oh, Tara. You're adorable when you try to act tough."

"I mean it, Poma," Tara pressed, stepping closer. "You've been acting like you've got some kind of claim on him. Why? What are you not saying?"

Poma smirked, playing with the bracelet again. "Maybe he has a claim on me."

Tara clenched her fists. "He loves Xena."

Poma's smirk didn't fade. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Before Tara could snap back, a sharp scream cut through the air, followed by another, then another.

Both of them froze.

Then, outside, chaos erupted.

Tara turned toward the door, her pulse racing. Shouts, cries—people were running, yelling, calling for water.

Poma frowned, standing. "What in Hades is—" Tara flung open the door and ran outside. The moment she saw the thick black smoke curling into the sky, her heart stopped.

Her house was on fire.

She stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. The flames ate hungrily at the roof, climbing higher, thick smoke billowing into the sky. Villagers scrambled with buckets of water, shouting orders, trying to contain it before it spread.

"No," Tara whispered. Then louder, "No, no, NO!"

She took off in a dead sprint, shoving past people, her legs moving before her mind could catch up.

"MY HOUSE!" she screamed, tears burning her eyes. "THEY'RE IN THERE!"

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, stopping her momentum so suddenly she almost fell. "Tara, stop!"

She twisted violently in the grip, kicking and fighting. It was her father. Kallos held her back, his grip firm as she thrashed against him. "Let me go!" she screamed, her nails digging into his arms. "They're inside! I have to get them!"

"Tara, no!" Kallos barked, tightening his hold as she struggled harder. "You can't go in there! The roof is going to collapse!"

Tara's entire body shook. The heat of the fire kissed at her skin even from this distance, but all she could see was the house—her house—engulfed in flames. The walls crackled, glowing orange, the smoke thick and suffocating.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her nails digging into his arms as she thrashed. "They're in there! I have to—"

"No," Kallos said firmly, tightening his hold. "You can't go in there, Tara! It's too late!"

Tears streaked down her face as she kicked against him, her voice raw with panic. "You don't understand! The children—Borias' children—Lexa and Solan—THEY'RE INSIDE!"

A loud gasp rippled through the gathered villagers. Doria, who had been running toward the fire, skidded to a stop. Her face went pale.

"No," Doria whispered, horror sinking into her bones. "No, no, no—"

Without a second thought, Kallos released Tara and bolted straight toward the inferno.

"Kallos!" Doria shrieked, reaching out as if she could grab him before he disappeared into the flames.

Tara stumbled forward, still gasping for breath. The fire roared louder, swallowing half the house, embers raining down like burning snowflakes. The front entrance was gone, consumed by the blaze.

Seconds felt like hours.

Smoke poured from the windows, thick and suffocating. The villagers threw buckets of water at the flames, but it wasn't enough. Kallos was in there. The children were in there. The fire crackled violently, its heat licking at the air as the roof groaned under its own weight.

Then—

A loud CRASH. A section of the house collapsed inward, sending up a wave of sparks. Tara's legs buckled, her hands gripping her head.

"KALLOS!" Doria sobbed, her face twisted in anguish. The flames raged on. No one knew if Kallos had reached the children. No one knew if they had made it out. And for one long, unbearable moment, all Tara could do was watch as her world burned.

Borias ran his finger over the map as he studied every detail of Xena's plan. His expression remained unreadable while he absorbed the information. His eyes lingered on the name of the village—the same village that had cast them aside, humiliated them.

"They should pay," Borias muttered, his voice filled with something dark. "Not just for what they did to you. It was an insult to me as well." Xena's smirk returned, slow and full of satisfaction.

"So you'll ride with me?" she asked, her voice low.

Borias exhaled through his nose, glancing at her. Then he nodded. "This once."

Xena didn't hesitate. Her hands gripped his face, and she crushed her mouth against his in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. Borias responded without thought, his fingers digging into her waist as he pulled her closer, his body already burning from the fire she had stoked in him earlier. He had spent so long resisting her pull, convincing himself that he could stand apart from her, but in moments like this, he knew the truth. There was no separating himself from Xena. She pulled back just enough to breathe against his lips. "Then let's go tell my army."

Borias laughed, shaking his head as she released him and walked toward the camp, her confidence as sharp as the dagger still strapped to her thigh.

Xena entered the camp with Borias at her side, her presence enough to command immediate attention. The men, who had been scattered throughout, sharpening weapons, mending armor, or lounging, immediately straightened as she passed.

"Gather around!" Xena ordered. "Now."

There was no hesitation. The men moved quickly, forming a half-circle around her. The firelight flickered across their faces, some hardened and eager, others wary and waiting. Borias stood slightly to the side, watching them, studying them.

Xena pulled the map from her belt and unrolled it across the rough wooden table in front of her. "Here's the plan," she started, her voice steady and commanding.

She pointed to the familiar layout of Potidaea. "The village has two main escape routes—one through the river, the other through the eastern path," she said, tapping the spots Gabrielle had unknowingly handed her. "Both will be cut off. No one leaves unless I allow it."

A murmur of approval rippled through the men. Xena continued, "As soon as we ride in, the tavern goes up in flames. It'll send a message and create enough panic to keep them from organizing. The fire will spread, and in the chaos, we take everything worth taking." The men nodded, some already grinning at the idea of a raid that would be over before the village even knew what hit them.

"Stay sharp," Xena warned. "You listen to every word I say. No unnecessary killing. If you go off on your own, if you start acting without orders, you answer to me." Her eyes darkened, voice lowering. "And I promise, you don't want that." The tension in the air thickened. No one doubted what she meant.

Borias crossed his arms, nodding. "We'll split into two groups," he added, scanning the men. "Xena will take half to block off the escape routes. The rest will come with me to gather food and weapons." A few of the men exchanged looks at the sound of his voice. Then, from the back, a voice cut through the silence.

"Who's he?"

Xena's eyes flickered toward the speaker—Phelon. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his expression wary. "I don't recognize him," Phelon continued, nodding toward Borias. "And I don't take orders from strangers."

Borias didn't react. He just watched Xena, waiting, curious to see how she'd handle it. Xena exhaled, as if deciding how much she wanted to say. "He's a guest," she answered simply.

Phelons' brow lifted. "A guest who gives orders?"

Borias tilted his head slightly, amusement shining in his eyes. He was giving Xena a chance to fix this—because if she answered wrong, these men wouldn't listen to either of them. Xena hesitated for only a moment. Then she made her decision.

"He's second in command," she announced. The camp went silent. Some men exchanged uncertain glances. A few nodded, accepting it without argument. But Borias... Borias barely hid the way his jaw tightened at those words.

Second in command. Beneath her. Never in his life had he been second to anyone. Xena didn't give him a chance to react. "As Borias said, half of you will follow me, the other half behind him," she continued.

Phelon gave Borias a long look, as if weighing his worth. Then he shrugged. "When do we ride out?"

Xena's eyes gleamed wildly. "At nightfall."

The men erupted into cheers. She smirked, her adrenaline spiking as she dismissed them. They scattered, some heading for rest, others grabbing their weapons in anticipation.

As the camp settled back into motion, Borias stepped closer, his voice low so only she could hear. "Second in command?"

Xena turned to him with an innocent expression. "What? Would you have preferred I tell them you have no place here at all?"

Borias let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "I don't take orders from you, Xena."

Xena smirked. "That's cute."

Borias took a step closer, voice harder. "We built armies together before. You weren't above me then. What changed?"

Xena leaned in, her lips inches from his. "I did."

Borias' eyes flashed. "You're making a mistake."

Xena's hand slid up his chest, her fingers curling into his collar. "Or maybe I just finally realized who the real leader is." Borias exhaled sharply, gripping her wrist, his fingers tightening. He could argue. He could push back. But the fire in her eyes was impossible to ignore.

She tilted her head, her lips barely brushing his ear. "Don't tell me the great Borias is afraid of being beneath me."

Borias growled, yanking her closer. "You want me to prove you wrong?"

Xena grinned, stepping back just before he could pull her in for more. "Save it for the battle."

Borias let out a long breath, rolling his shoulders before nodding. "Fine. We do it your way. But after this, we talk."

Xena smirked, already turning away from him. "We'll see." The camp buzzed with energy, men preparing, sharpening blades, double-checking gear. The sun dipped lower, and soon, night would fall.

Before long, Potidaea would burn.

Phelon walked through the camp, his thoughts racing with the excitement of the coming battle. The men were sharpening their blades and checking their armor, boasting about how easy the raid would be. But his focus was on something else—home.

He moved quickly, leaving behind the scent of burning wood and oil. The sounds of men preparing for war faded as he reached the small hut on the outskirts of the camp.

Inside, the fire cast a warm glow over the room. The scent of roasted meat filled the air, and there she was, crouched near the fire, stirring the pot with slow, steady movements.

She didn't look up right away, but he could tell she had been waiting. "Took you long enough," she said, setting a wooden bowl down. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

Phelon kicked the door shut behind him. "You worried about me?"

She finally looked up, a small smirk forming. "Not at all."

He grinned, stepping closer and pulling her toward him. "Then why does it sound like you missed me?"

She scoffed and pushed him back lightly. "Sit down. I made food."

Phelon chuckled but did as she said, settling onto the low bench near the fire. She handed him the bowl, sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

After a moment, she leaned on her elbow, watching him as he ate. "So," she said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp, "how come I've never seen the army you fight with?"

Phelon barely hesitated. "Nothing special. Just a group of fighters with sharp weapons and bad tempers."

She raised an eyebrow. "Still, you talk about them enough."

He smirked. "Wouldn't want you getting any ideas."

She tilted her head slightly. "Maybe I already have ideas." His smirk faded a little. She leaned in, her voice dropping. "Maybe I'd like to see what kind of warriors you fight alongside. Maybe I'd like to train with them."

Phelon exhaled, shaking his head. "It's not the place for you."

Her expression hardened. "Why not?"

He shrugged, keeping his tone light. "Because I don't want you caught up in all this. You're better off here."

She studied him, clearly not satisfied with his answer. "Or maybe you just don't want me there."

He held her gaze before looking away. "It's complicated."

She tapped her fingers against her knee. "Fine. Let's keep it simple. What's your commander's name?"

Phelon tensed slightly but covered it well. "Doesn't matter."

Her eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter? You're following this person into battle, and I don't even get to know their name?"

He forced his expression to stay neutral. "Just another warlord."

She didn't look convinced. "You're lying."

He smirked, shaking his head. "You think I'd follow someone important?"

Her stare stayed steady. "I think you're hiding something."

He set his bowl down and leaned closer. "I think you ask too many questions."

She smiled slightly, unfazed. "I like answers."

Phelon exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Let it go."

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Fine. But one day, I'm going to find out for myself."

He smirked and pulled her close. "Doubt it." She let him hold her, but he could tell she wasn't letting this go. He kissed her temple, letting himself enjoy the moment before the battle ahead. Then she pulled back slightly, her voice softer. "Come back to me, Phelon."

His grip tightened slightly. "Always."

She studied him for a moment longer, then nudged the bowl toward him again. "Eat. Rest. I don't want you getting yourself killed before you bring me back my gold."

Phelon chuckled, picking up his bowl. "I'll bring back enough for the both of us."

She smirked. "You better." He took another bite, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet of the moment.

"Satrina, thank you."

The tent was quiet, the sounds of the camp muffled outside as Xena rested on the pallet. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady as she saved her energy for the battle to come. The fabric walls fluttered gently with the wind, casting shadows that danced around the space.

Borias slipped inside, his movements quiet but purposeful. His eyes fell on Xena, taking in the way her armor had been loosened, the naked skin of her shoulders exposed. When she sensed his presence, her eyelids fluttered open halfway.

What he saw in her gaze made his breath catch—pure, unrestrained hunger.

Slowly, Borias began to take off his clothing. His eyes never left hers, watching the way her tongue wet her lips. Xena's teeth caught her bottom lip, biting down as she watched him undress. The air between them thickened, heavy with anticipation.

Once he was naked, Borias crawled onto the pallet, his powerful frame moving over her like a predator closing in on its prey. He leaned down, his face inches from hers as he growled softly, the sound rumbling from his chest and sending a shiver through her body.

Xena's hands slid up his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin. Her legs parted, inviting him closer as her hands roamed over his back, pulling him down to press their bodies together. Borias captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with an urgency that set her nerves on fire.

He pulled away just enough to tug at her armor, his hands quickly removing the pieces one by one until her chest was naked to him. His lips moved to her collarbone, trailing kisses down to her breasts, where he took a hardened nipple into his mouth. Xena arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as she let out a low moan.

"Borias," she murmured, her voice thick with need. "Take me."

Her words were all the encouragement he needed. He wildly slid his hands down to her waist, snatching off the last barriers between them. His fingers traced the curve of her hips, exploring the softness of her skin.

Borias' thrusts drew out a gasp or moan from her. His mouth sought out every inch of her—her neck, her shoulders, the sensitive spot just below her ear that made her squirm beneath him. She responded eagerly, her hips rising to meet his, her nails leaving marks on his back.

"You feel so damn good, Xeena" Borias groaned, his voice strained as he fought to keep control.

Xena's breathless laughter turned into a moan as he changed the angle, hitting a spot that made her toes curl. Her hands slid down to his ass, squeezing him as she urged him deeper. "Don't stop," she panted, her head tilting back as he kissed along her throat.

Their pace quickened, the intensity between them building with every thrust. Sweat slicked their skin, their bodies sliding together as the heat of their passion consumed them. Xena's cries grew louder, mingling with Borias' guttural groans, the sounds of their pleasure filling the tent.

As her climax approached, Xena's body tensed, her thighs tightening around his hips. Borias watched her, captivated by the way her face contorted with pleasure. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent her over the edge, her back arching off the pallet as she cried out his name.

Borias followed soon after, his own release crashing through him as he buried himself deep inside her, his body trembling with the force of it. He collapsed on top of her, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Borias pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his hand lazily tracing patterns along her side as they laid there, content in their shared warmth.

Xena's eyes finally opened fully, a lazy smirk on her lips as she looked up at him. "You keep that up," she teased, her voice still breathless, "and we'll never get anything done."

Borias smirked, his hand moving to brush a stray hair from her face. "Maybe I don't want to get anything done," he replied, capturing her lips in another kiss, slower this time, but no less heated.

Outside, the camp continued on, oblivious to the fire that had been reignited inside the tent. While their breathing slowly returned to normal, Xena smirked, running her fingers lazily down Borias' chest. "Maybe I should make you wait this long every time," she teased, her voice husky but full of mischief.

Borias propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "That's not funny, Xena," he said flatly.

Xena's smirk grew wider. "Oh, but it is," she purred, tilting her head as she traced light circles on his skin. "The way you were looking at me...starving, desperate... I think I liked it."

Borias growled low in his throat, gripping her waist and flipping her onto her stomach in one swift motion. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he muttered, "You like testing me, don't you?"

Xena bit her bottom lip, suppressing a laugh. "A little."

Borias ran his hands down her back, his fingers pressing firmly into her hips as he hovered over her. "Then let's see how much you like it when I make you beg next time," he warned, his voice thick with promise.

Xena turned her head, amusement still dancing in her eyes. "Is that a threat?"

Borias smirked against her skin, pressing a lingering kiss to her shoulder. "No," he murmured. "It's a guarantee."

With that, he collapsed beside her, pulling her against him, determined to keep her close for as long as she allowed it.

Evening was setting over Potidaea. The air carried a crispness that hinted at the changing seasons, but there was something else too—something Lila couldn't quite name.

She sat on the wooden porch, arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the quiet village. The lanterns lining the road flickered, their flames dancing against the growing darkness. Everything looked normal, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling curling in her stomach.

The door creaked open behind her. Gabrielle stepped outside, her arms crossed against the chill. She spotted Lila sitting alone and let out a small sigh before dropping onto the step beside her.

"You've been sitting out here for a while," Gabrielle said, nudging her lightly with her knee. "What's wrong?"

Lila exhaled, still staring out at the road. "Something doesn't feel right."

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. "Something like what?"

Lila shook her head. "I don't know. Just... everything. It feels different tonight." She glanced at her sister. "Do you feel it too?"

Gabrielle held out her hand, palm up, letting the evening breeze pass over her skin. After a moment, she chuckled. "Feels the same as it always does, Lila."

Lila frowned, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "Even the wind is different."

Gabrielle laughed softly, bumping her shoulder. "You're being dramatic."

Lila's lips pressed together, her expression still uneasy. "I don't trust that Xena lady."

Gabrielle blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "What?"

"You heard me," Lila said, turning to face her. "The first time she came here, she was different. Vulnerable. In pain. But this time? She was too composed, too careful." Lila's fingers dug into the fabric of her dress. "She was suspicious, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle shrugged. "I mean, I guess she's changed a little, but that's not exactly strange."

Lila shook her head. "It is when you think about it. Why would she come here and not bring her son? We helped deliver him. We gave her shelter. And she didn't think we'd want to see him?"

Gabrielle hesitated. She hadn't really considered that. "Maybe he was with his father?"

Lila's eyes narrowed. "That's another thing. Why didn't she just say that? Why avoid the topic?"

Gabrielle smirked, ignoring her sister's question. "I wouldn't mind seeing his father again," she said, leaning back against the railing with a dreamy sigh. "That man was—"

"Suspicious," Lila interrupted flatly.

Gabrielle groaned. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

Lila ignored her. "Think about it, Gabrielle. That much gold? Where did he even get it? He wasn't dressed like royalty, but he handed over more money than most people see in a lifetime."

Gabrielle laughed, shaking her head. "You worry too much, sister. Nothing is going to happen."

Lila didn't respond right away. She just stared ahead, her fingers tightening against her arms. "I hope you're right," she murmured.

Gabrielle reached over and squeezed her hand. "I am."

The wind blew again, stronger this time. Gabrielle barely noticed. But Lila did.

And it still didn't feel right.

Alti sat cross-legged in the dim glow of her tent. Bones and relics hung from the ceiling, swaying gently as if they, too, could feel the change in the air. The spirits whispered, their voices weaving through the darkness, but they were hesitant, resisting her call.

Her fingers curled around an ancient dagger, its blade stained from past rituals. In front of her, a bowl of dark liquid reflected the flickering flames, the surface smooth, untouched. She narrowed her eyes, pressing the tip of the dagger into her palm. A single drop of blood dripped into the bowl.

"Show her to me," Alti muttered, her voice low, commanding. The liquid trembled, then rippled violently as the fire around her crackled, the flames stretching unnaturally.

For a moment, nothing came.

Her teeth clenched. Something was interfering. She could feel it—a force pushing back, blocking her sight. Her hands tightened into fists, nails digging into her skin.

"I said...show me."

The fire roared, a powerful gust rushing through the tent. The liquid inside the bowl stilled. And then, finally, the vision came.

Xena.

Alti's breath slowed as she watched the image unfold before her.

Xena laid stretched out in the dim glow of a small campfire, her body tangled with Borias', the two of them buried beneath thick furs. His arm draped over her waist, his face nestled close to her shoulder. The slow rise and fall of their breathing meant they were deep in sleep, lost in the comfort of each other.

Alti's lip curled in disgust.

Borias.

The name burned on her tongue like acid. For all his strength, he was a fool. A weak-minded man who believed love could tame Xena. If not for him, Xena would have fully embraced the power she was destined for.

Alti's eyes darkened, her grip on the dagger tightening. If only he wasn't in the picture. Her voice was a whisper in the night, but the weight behind it was heavy, dangerous.

Her vision sharpened. She studied Xena's face, relaxed in sleep, her body connected with the man who had always been a thorn in her side. Xena should have been here, standing in the firelight with Alti, not wrapped in the arms of a man who had no idea what she was truly capable of.

Her destiny was slipping and if that happened, the stone would never be hers! Alti exhaled sharply, the vision beginning to disappear. She had seen enough. It was time to stop watching from the shadows.

She released the vision, the flames in her tent snapping back to normal as the spirits recoiled, their murmurs retreating into silence. The bowl before her cracked, the dark liquid inside seeping into the ground like spilled blood.

She stood, moving with purpose. Xena would not escape her again. Not in visions. Not in fate.

Alti stepped outside, inhaling the crisp night air. The sky above her stretched dark and endless, but she didn't need the stars to guide her. She could feel Xena now, the pull as strong as if something was holding her in place, wrapped around her very being.

I'm coming for you, Xena.

With that, Alti turned, disappearing into the night.