We all know it. Maybe we have experienced it ourselves. Or at least we have heard of it. The "second attempt". Something goes wrong (or not completely right) and we try again, maybe in a different way.

This story represents my second attempt at fan fiction. I think it is better than my first attempt (The Bard's Song, for those who are interested), maybe because I decided to exploit one of my favourite themes: blasphemy. Oh yes, this story could be seen as blasphemous by some, disturbing by others and shameless by a selected few (thanks to you in advance, guys).

It is a story about hate, death and dreams (a well-known trinity in dark fantasy). I did not feel confident enough to explore the nature of evil (one of my favourite themes) or the core of morality (which is practically the same). But who knows. We will see...

So, there you have it. My second attempt at fan fiction.

PLEASE READ!!!

Some of the themes contained in here can be very disturbing, even disgusting. Therefore I wrote this story for mature readers only. Well, it is up to you whether you consider yourself mature but I suggest that you put away this script if you don't like to think about blood, sex or the mixture of both (yeah, it's one of those stories). Call it horror if you like, I don't care. However, it is a very dark story. Consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer:

Of course I make no claims to Xena, Gabrielle, Ares, Callisto, Argo, Joxer (who would want to do that?) or the rest of MCA's happy family.

Morpheus on the other hand is my own creation... well, kind of. If you think there are certain similarities with Neil Gaiman's Sandman then you are right. Although it is definitely not the same character. Well, you have been properly informed.

Further there is violence, doubtful manifestations of sexual origins and lots of blood.

All reet, I think you can now lay back and enjoy the story.

Have fun.

If you liked, hated or what-ever-ed the story, please e-mail me: mail@satachrist.com.

She still stood there. For what seemed like ages. Looking down.

She saw the fire, the flames dancing in ironical patterns, the thick waves of heat above them, the ascendance of the gleaming ashes. But nothing more.

Callisto's dead face smiled at her. Even her eyes sneered, and Xena wished it would just stop.

A part of her still insisted that what her own eyes had just witnessed could never be true. She couldn't believe what had happened. She didn't want to. But another part of her knew, with all this dreadful simplicity of knowledge, that Gabrielle was indeed gone. Forever. Never to return.

Dead.

With all the strength she still had in her wearied body she sent a searing scream to the skies, a scream that transcended the worlds and heavens. Her voice painted a picture of the pain that had crept into her heart, a pain that replaced joy and lust with emptiness. In this emptiness the echoes of her scream would forever dwell, throwing themselves back at her until the end of time.

Until everything would end...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena sat up. A thin layer of sweat covered her whole body. She felt the warm breeze of spring on her skin.

A dream. It had all been just a dream.

The image of Gabrielle's face was still clear in her mind. The sudden twinkle of time as she embraced Hope. The way the reflection of the fire grew dim in her eyes as she drifted towards the abyss. That unreadable expression at the moment she fell...

Fell.

A wave of fear and nausea hit her. She winced, spastically, crossing her trembling arms in front of her chest. She could still hear her own scream, transcending worlds, breaking into reality. So real...

"Just a bad dream," she told herself. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. It had been so real. Every sense in her had told her that what she had just experienced was very real. But now...

Now she could feel it fade away. All of it. She already couldn't remember vast passages of the actual course of events that had led to Gabrielle's fall. Gabrielle... Where was Gabrielle?

Xena threw the blanket aside and stood up. Everything was dark around her, so she was not able to see much. But judging from what she could see, she was in a dark room or cave. And she was alone. Only her undergarments covered her weakened body. Her armour and the rest of her equipment was nowhere to be seen. They were gone like her companions. The cloth of her shirt was stained brown and a deep cut traversed her right thigh.

"Gabrielle?" she called hesitantly at first. Then with more vigour.

"Gabrielle!"

No answer.

She whistled as loud as she could, until her lungs caught fire, but she didn't hear the familiar sound of Argo's happy respond. She heard nothing at all except for the echoes of her own voice. But she saw something. The literal light at the tunnel's end.

With the steps of a practised sleepwalker in her night-gown she followed the light and watched it grow bigger and brighter as she came closer. When she at last stepped out of the cave she saw that it was early morning, of what day she couldn't say. The sun had already ripened in colour and form and offered her the fragile warmth of spring. She shielded her eyes. A few birds greeted the sun with their clear but disharmonic voices.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light Xena saw that she was standing on a perfect green glade. The long grass knelt respectively before her in the soft wind. A forest began to spread to her left. It all looked so very surreal that she turned around to the place she came from. The cave was there, leading into the depths of a grand overgrown hill. This was no dream. Then her eyes spotted a figure not too far away. Solitarily it stood there, clad in a light dress and radiating with an inner peace Xena had always hoped to find for herself one day.

Xena started walking, then she started walking faster and before she realised it, she was already running. Unlike in so many of her nightmares the figure did not disappear and neither did the distance between them increase. There was no rift to separate them from one another. Instead she got closer with each hurried step. It was all as it should be.

"Gabrielle!"

Her vision was still blurred from the intense daylight yet it allowed her to see the woman's hair, shining like the sun itself. In seconds she would spread her arms to close her beloved friend into her heart. And she would never let her go again.

When she was close enough her steps slowed down. The blonde woman smiled at her. A shadow crawled over Xena's face.

"Callisto."

"Xena, I'm so happy to see you," said the woman. She bore no weapons, and no armour was attached to her body. The fine dress she wore hugged her figure like a second skin. Her gestures and expression held no menace. Xena noticed that the wind didn't touch her hair. How could she still be here? Hind's dagger should have sent her into the nothingness beyond immortality.

"It was not easy to find you," the blonde woman said.

"And why would you want to find me?" asked the warrior. Her voice was on the verge of dripping with sarcasm. It was so easy to drop back into old habits.

"I wanted to tell you that I forgive you," said Callisto gently. "What you did to my family and what you did to me, it is all forgiven. And I beg for your forgiveness in return. I know that this is a very grave request and I would understand it if you refused."

"You will get nothing from me, Callisto," Xena hissed. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew that if it involved Callisto and her at the same time, it eventually involved fighting. So they could as well skip the prelude and get right to the main act. She would never be the first to raise the hand though. That was why she waited for Callisto to do the start.

"After all that you did to Gabrielle and all the countless others, do you seriously think that I...that anyone could ever forgive you?" she added with bared teeth.

The woman in front of her looked genuinely saddened.

"Gabrielle... lovely Gabrielle. I owe her so much. What a bitter story. Her fall was..."

Something closed around Xena's throat and mind, forcing pure terror down her soul. The last image of Gabrielle flooded back to her. Her pleading eyes, the heat against her skin, the distant smell of flaming hair... And then the images began to fade. The contour of the picture darkened, drifting away into the blackness, leaving only bleak echoes in the space between... until the composition broke. Maybe death was not the end. Maybe something else was. The utter erasure of an existence. Oblivion...

"I'm very sorry, Xena." Callisto smiled sympathetically. "It was undoubtedly my fault. Again. And you're right, I can never make up for what I've done. I tortured and killed people. I did terrible things and I would have done worse if you hadn't stopped me. And for that I thank you, Xena. You saved me. You saved what was left of my soul. You cared. For that I will be forever grateful. And I will wait. Perhaps one day you will be able to forgive me. There is always hope."

Callisto raised her head for a moment as if she was listening to something. The sun didn't reflect in her eyes. Her voice sounded distant as she spoke.

"I have to go back now, Xena. I hope we will meet again sometime. I will wait for you in the Elysian Fields."

Then she disappeared. Nothing reminded the glade of her presence. No trace, no shadow.

Xena fell on her knees right where she stood and tried to retch the terror out of her stomach. This was the sickest thing she had ever experienced with the bitch. She would have preferred her to draw her sword and describe how sweet the blood of Gabrielle's husband had tasted.

She stared at the ground before her knees. Her insides were apparently empty.

Her instinct interrupted her act of internal cleansing as her danger sense detected a familiar tickling beneath her skin. It made the hair on the back of her neck rise in alarm. There was only one thing in the world that was able to cause this kind of sensation in her.

"Ares," she stated without turning around.

"I finally found you," said the voice behind her back. "It was a very challenging hunt, I have to admit that."

She finally stood up and turned around. By now her face was stricken with anger and the desire for relief; the kind of desire you feel when you know exactly what you need, and you know just as well that you can never have it.

"What do you want, Ares?" she said sharply. These words would probably have impaled any living being on the spot.

"Well, to be completely frank," commenced the God of War and took a deep, considerate breath, "I'm here to excuse myself." He was deadly serious now. "For what I did to you...and to Gabrielle."

Xena looked at him with disinterest, her emotional ropes viciously drawing her into at least five different direction, of which two she didn't even know they existed. The mentioning of her friend's name provided the dream she had with a new layer of truth. But what was the word of a god to her?

"Is that all?" she said in a bored tone. She was becoming tired of this freak show. She didn't get the joke until now and she seriously doubted that she would get it after Ares had ended his pitiable performance. Above all it was not the least bit funny. Why couldn't everyone simply act the way they were supposed to? The strange behaviour of her worst enemies did not contribute to her inner silence.

"Not quite," said the god. "I'm also here to tell you that it's over. At least for you. I will give you my word as an immortal that I will never meddle into your affairs again. To be more precise, I'm going to leave you in peace from now on. I think after such a long history of desperate attempts to bring you back, I finally understood that it is futile. It was a waste of time really."

He let the last words sink in before he continued. As he moved his head away from the sun two twin shades found rest in the niche below his eyes.

"Gabrielle's fate was very unfortunate. Above all, it was not necessary. And to do things that are not necessary is as much a waste of time as to attempt things that are impossible to perform."

At this point he threw in that devilish kind of grin that demonstrated his lack of human emotion and marked him a member of the immortal race. But the grin vanished to be replaced by an expression that could almost be called passionate. Almost.

"Xena, we were lovers once. And I think I owe you this excuse. But I will not repeat it. Your friend's condition was partly my fault..."

"Partly your fault?!" Xena hissed. "You killed her! It's you and that monster that are responsible for her death!"

Ares' eyebrows sank in thought.

"Hm, if you want to put it like this...very well. So, it was me and that...monster. But it is all over now, Xena. Now you can try to find peace if this is what you want. Or whatever. I won't stand in your way. Your life is yours now. It's your choice."

"Where's Gabrielle?" Xena asked straight forward. She'd had enough of these insinuations. The god seemed to be a bit surprised by this question.

"Why, Hades has her of course."

"That's all I needed to hear."

Without another glance she began to march towards the rising sun. But she stopped once.

"Ares?"

"Yes?" said a voice behind her back.

"Excuse not accepted."

Then she walked on.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There on that lovely green meadow lay Gabrielle, just as she had expected.

Flowers of all kinds caressed her shining hair and rubbed their leafs against her soft skin, paling in comparison to the woman's surreal beauty. Her eyes were closed like she was sleeping, her lips were red like a freshly sliced fig. The dress that covered her body was as thin as a rainbow's pillar. And her arms were spread in the grass like angel's wings in the night sky.

Xena knelt down beside her and took her time to revel in the fact that Gabrielle was lying there before her, unharmed and unblemished. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch her. In this moment she felt true salvation, paired with a girlish excitement about the moment she would feel her friend's flesh in her hand and listen to this delicate voice as she awoke. Xena's hand reached out for Gabrielle's face. She wondered what it would feel like. But she came to the conclusion that it didn't matter that Gabrielle was dead. Her beauty was still the same. Her wonderful soul was still unchanged. As pure and as beautiful as ever, it gave the warrior the warmth to meld that old dusty ice inside. Xena touched her.

The sky turned black.

With horror Xena watched the grass and flowers turn to rust and wither away in seconds. The rotting process embraced the whole meadow, letting her surroundings die in unified misery.

Dread froze her as she saw that Gabrielle had turned grey and withered under her hand. Bits of flesh were falling off her body and the tissue began to rip and fall apart like old ashes. Her hair fell out. The need to cry was replaced by a feeling of utter despair. It sealed her throat.

She still couldn't move when Gabrielle opened her dead dry eyes and gazed at her accusingly. All innocence sacrificed for a dark soul. A life for an unlife. The storm would carry her hallow remains away from this cursed place. Beneath Xena's palm Gabrielle's body collapsed. Her bones had the consistence of ancient paper and her skin was being peeled off by the black wind.

When the head tilted back in an impossible angle and the jaw severed itself from the face, Xena wanted to scream. But she couldn't. She couldn't do anything but watch.

And Gabrielle still stared at her. Xena knew that in defiance of her state her friend was still conscious because of the way the dead eyes continued to hold her gaze.

The taste of ashes filled her mouth...

But none of this was real. And therefore it had to be a dream. And because of that, Xena never saw it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena did not know where she was. Her gaze glided along the flaming horizon, searching for signs that would betray the geography to her memory. But until now she had been amazingly unsuccessful at specifying her current location. Even more interesting was the fact that she couldn't remember how she got here. Nor why her friend's were not with her. Although she never admitted it she hated to be alone. Yet she would have rather chosen loneliness than the bizarre presence of her enemies. Ares' and Callisto's performances had left her with a lot of unresolved questions and a lot of stuff to think about. Apparently Gabrielle was dead. She winced at the mere thought of it but at the moment her instincts prevented her from falling into a state of draining self-pity where she wouldn't be able to do anything besides staring at the grass to her feet. Argo was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she too was dead. And Joxer.

There was only one way to find out. She had to...

"Xena..."

Her eyes widened. She turned around and there he was, looking as displaced and as crumpled as usual, so that she couldn't help smiling. It was such a relief to see a familiar face, even if it was him.

"Joxer!" She strode towards him to give him a head-nut and a short embrace afterwards. There was so much she wanted to tell him although she knew she would end up in the same kind of silence she always employed to disguise her natural insecurity. It didn't matter. Being near to a friend was good enough for her.

But Joxer lifted his right hand and shook his head slowly.

"You can't come closer, Xena. I'm farther away than you think. The dead can never be touched."

She stopped an infinity before him. Joxer was dead.

"It took me a while to find you...ehm...you've always been good at this hiding business...not that you ever needed to. I didn't have the chance to thank you yet. You tried to save me. It didn't work but that was my fault, not yours. Heh. Guess I ran straight into my nemesis, huh?"

Xena could see that the memory was painful to him. The dead couldn't remember how bodily pain felt like but they remembered very well everything that had happened to their souls.

"What is going on here, Joxer?"

He shrugged. His armour made no squeaking noises as he did so.

"Life, I guess." He scratched the back of his helmet. "Sorry. This wasn't very funny."

Xena exhaled. So she wouldn't get an explanation right now. But she knew who could give her the answers. She just had to get there.

"Joxer, where am I?"

The man looked perplexed.

"You mean you don't know?" he asked. He took a second to read her face. "No, obviously you don't. This is the hill of Hypnos."

"Hypnos..."

"Yes. I couldn't think of any reason for you to come here. But this place is a sort of blockade, you know. Neither the senses of gods nor the eyes of the dead can examine this place from the distance. That's why it was so hard to find you."

"The hill of Hypnos..." she whispered. "Joxer, in which direction is the bottomless lake?"

"Why, you want to come and pay me a visit?"

"I have to see Gabrielle."

His face darkened.

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea, Xena."

"Well, I think it is. Which direction?"

Joxer's voice assumed a new level of depth. A hollow sound was added to it like a breeze over a deserted grave yard. It didn't sound human. It didn't sound alive. But above all it didn't sound like him.

"In the west, of course. It's always in the west, no matter where you are," he said gloomily.

Xena nodded and walked past him. No reason to waste any time.

"Xena?" said a voice behind her back.

"Yes?"

"When you see her...tell her that it is all forgiven. Everything."

When Xena turned around he was already gone.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It took her three days to get to the bottomless lake, the only known passage to Hades' realm that could be entered by a mortal. It was still far from easy to get down to the bottom of the lake and traverse the narrow border to the underworld. She had been there before. And the memory of the dive, let alone the journey through the halls of the dead, was not a pleasant one.

On her way her mind was occupied with putting the words and riddles of the three figures that had appeared to her in order. She was so absolutely lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that no dreams came to her while she slept. When she was awake she was occasionally haunted by the image of Gabrielle falling. These visions tormented her soul by day, a whip at her flesh for every moment of Gabrielle's face, already dead as she drifted away. They dimmed the flame of the lonely candle that continued to burn itself inside of her. But they did not disturb her sleep.

Xena swam to the centre of the lake. The dark water was as cold as death itself. Her limbs were frozen and hard as stone when she reached the point where the lake ended and the underworld began.

She couldn't help throwing a fascinated glance at the water above her head. Charon, the ferryman, was not pleased to see her.

"I'm not doing any sight-seeing, young lady! Come back when you're dead!"

"Charon, I'm not in my best mood. So, don't stand in my way," she said.

"You're mood's not my business, girly girl. To bring people across the Styx on the other hand is my business. But this option is only available to those who have died, ok? So you better swing your living ass outta here at once or I'm gonna..."

"Silence, Charon. She's my guest," said a voice behind Xena. She waited for Hades to come to her. She could feel the cool breeze of the dead brush against her skin as he approached. But paying it any attention would have been a sign of weakness.

"Take us across the river, Charon. And be silent while you're doing so," said the god as he climbed into the boat.

The ferryman grumbled something inaudible and began to row.

Hades positioned himself in the front of the boat. As he stood there, his hands folded behind his back, his face stern and aristocratic, observing the unmoving water, it was clear to everyone who the master of this realm was. When he spoke the river vibrated with his voice.

"It's been some time, Xena. How did I deserve the honour of your visit?"

"I'm here for Gabrielle," said the mortal.

"Look Xena, I can't let you enter and leave the underworld as you please. This place is reserved for the dead, and I've already made too many exceptions to this rule. This will definitely be the last time you invaded my kingdom."

"I just want to see Gabrielle," she said.

The god looked into her eyes. She held his gaze.

"All right," said Hades. "I give you permission to see her. And safe conduct when you leave. Have you heard that, Charon?"

"Yes, milord," said the ferryman.

"Of course you have. Nothing gets past your bony ears without being thoroughly analysed. You also played close attention to the rest of the conversation, I suppose?"

"Yes, milord," said Charon, whining. It was impossible for him to lie to his master.

"Very well. Then you are properly informed at least. Tell me, Xena, how did you get past Cerberus?"

"I'm not really sure I should tell you. You might be disappointed," said the mortal.

"No, do go on."

"Well, let me put it like this. Cerberus might be a hellhound but in its essence it's still a hound."

"Oh. I see."

On the other side Hades led her to a descending staircase, hewn out of the Earth's black entrails. Xena hesitated.

"But...but the path to the Elysian Fields should be over there," she said, pointing at an elevated arcade made of grey stone.

"That is correct," said the god. "Now come. Please do not consider me impolite but I hope you will understand that I want to avoid having you around longer than absolutely necessary."

Xena said nothing and followed him down the stairs.

After nine thousand two hundred and forty-eight steps they reached the end of the staircase and the beginning of the red hall. Xena knew this place. It was the origin of all true nightmares. And nightmares were the origin of this place.

"She's over there," said the god, waving an arm into the direction of the cave. "You have to excuse me now, I have other business to attend to."

Instead of simply dissolving, the god began to ascend the stairway. No one should say that the God of the Underworld had no manners, she thought.

Xena approached the cave with care for she was not sure what she was going to find in there. She had heard a lot of words from a lot of mouths but she didn't really know where it would lead her. Her hand reached out for her sword, only to grab empty air. All of a sudden she was all too conscious of her vulnerability. But she had to know.

The air in the cave was sated with the smell of urine and excrement. It was both hot and cold at the same time. Some scattered torches spent a bleak substitute for light. Xena was aware of small shadows roaming the walls.

Somewhere the light intensified. This strange red glowing drew Xena into a chamber at the end of the corridor. There she found what she was looking for.

"Gabrielle," she whispered. A tear found its way down her cheek.

The figure in front of her turned around at the sound of her name. Xena bit on her lower lip.

"Gabrielle, what have they done to you..."

She was naked, and her skin was covered with dirt and old blood. Her hair looked filthy and her eyes were deprived of their former glamour, leaving only one sided mirrors as windows to an empty room. She stood there like a mistreated child, searching for a fragment of recognition in this face that had just spoken to her so kindly. With her broken fingernails she absent-mindedly scratched at an oozing scar, thereby ripping it open.

"Xena..."

Gabrielle made a step forward and was immediately repelled by the flames. A ring of fire held her captive. The fiery tongues licked at her skin as soon as she dared to come any closer. The only possibility to escape the flames was to remain in the very middle of the circle. Xena could see that her feet were bloody and her legs were blue from standing.

Hades would pay for this! Taking his life would not be enough! She wanted him to suffer! No one did this to Gabrielle without feeling the revenge of the warrior princess! Not even a god!

Gabrielle held a hand out into Xena's direction but withdrew when her fingers got burned.

"Oh Gabrielle," whispered Xena. "Gabrielle, I'm going to get you out of here. I will speak with Hades. He made a mistake..."

"No," said Gabrielle. Xena couldn't decipher her expression at that moment. She had never seen this expression on Gabrielle's face before. It made her look like a stranger.

"This is my home now, Xena. I can't go. I'm dead. And I will stay dead. I belong to the dead now. And this," she spread her arms, "is my afterlife."

"Gabrielle, what happened? I don't understand what's going on..."

"You don't understand?" asked Gabrielle with all the naiveté of a wicked cynic. "You killed me. You delivered me. You brought me to this place."

"No..." Xena shook her head in disbelief. Terror gripped her stomach like a steel fist. "I never did this to you..."

"Of course you did," said Gabrielle as if she was talking to a stray dog who had wetted the carpet. "You drove your sword into my stomach. It shattered my spine when it came out of my back. My blood drenched your amour. And your skin. You will probably never get rid of it again."

Xena looked down at the dried blood on her shirt. She imagined herself slaying her best friend with her sword, the storm of blood hitting her face, the warmth of Gabrielle's intestines on her hands. Oh gods, why...

Gabrielle's head suddenly jerked around. Her hand darted out and caught something that had been quickly crawling over her feet a second ago. She held the twitching rat in eye height and smiled at it. Then she bit off the head and spit it out.

Xena made a step back. She was about to throw up. She had seen a lot of things in war, some of them too disgusting to be described and too awful to be believed. Some of these things she had done herself. After an eternity of war she had developed an inevitable resistance against them. But seeing Gabrielle, sweet pure Gabrielle, do something like this was different. It was too much.

"I'm sorry," said the woman. Blood was pouring down her chin. "But you would never imagine how hungry a dead person can get." She threw the cadaver away and smiled. Blood dried on her teeth. "Xena, I've missed you so much."

Her tongue licked over her lips, gently, returning the red colour to them for now. The shadows deepened on her lustful hips and perfect legs. Her whole body was suddenly gleaming with morbid hunger. Her hands caressed her naked breasts with the passion of a hot lover. Although they were dead things they were still round and full and beautiful. The flames rose around her in anticipation. Cold sweat ran down Xena's face.

"Isn't this what you always wanted, Xena?" Gabrielle breathed lewdly. "Isn't this what you desired?" One of her hands wandered down her stomach and vanished between her golden thighs. She closed her eyes and moaned. Xena swallowed down the bile in her throat. Her eyes were stinging with silver. Somewhere inside her chest something broke forever.

"Don't do this," she pleaded. "Gabrielle, don't do this to me..."

"Wouldn't you like to touch me, Xena?" Gabrielle groaned. "Here..."

Xena turned and ran. Outside the cave she threw up onto an abstract formation of molten lava. Then she broke down and cried. She felt sick. And so tired. And she didn't understand it. This had to be a nightmare. None of this could be true. Nothing of this horror could be real. She wished she were dead. She wished she hadn't seen it. Better Gabrielle had never existed than that she existed like this. Gabrielle...

Passively she watched the scarlet sand in front of her move. Only a bit, at the brink of visibility. Something began to form in the sand. A human shape ascended from the grains, its edges defined by the floating shades of pallid evening fog. It grew until it was about her height and then some more.

It finally found rest in the shape of a thin pale man with raven-black hair and a robe of equal colour, its hem decorated with the faces of sleepers. Two stars shone in the infinity of his eyes.

"Are you here to thank me, threaten me or beg for my forgiveness?" she asked sombrely. She was not desperate for an answer.

"I am here to help you, Xena," said the apparition calmly.

"And who are you?"

"Don't you know?"

She looked at him closely. He looked vaguely familiar. She was positive she had seen him before but she was just as sure that she didn't know him. It was so tempting to look through his being. He constantly obfuscated, reformed, changed shape, reappeared...

"You're Morpheus," she stated. "You're the god of dreams."

"Yes."

"Is this what all this is?" she looked around herself. "A dream?"

"No," said the god. "This is real. You are really here. And your friend is really in this cave."

Xena looked him in the eyes. She saw nothing but eternity. And she knew that he spoke the truth.

"But everything you thought you experienced until three days ago," he continued, "was a dream."

She looked down into the sand. This was madness. What did it mean? She couldn't believe what he said. She didn't want to believe it.

But she nevertheless knew it was true.

"But I remember..."

"Everything you remember was part of the dream. It was not real and has never been."

He approached her slowly but didn't get too close. Maybe he didn't want to frighten her.

"I knew you would be disorientated and helpless when you awoke. And I thought it would only be fair if I guided you through this difficult period after the wakening."

"I don't need help," she said bitterly. "Especially not from gods. And I know nothing about a deal."

"Of course you don't remember consciously what happened. But a part of you never forgot it. We made a pact, Xena. In exchange for all your dreams I gave you one dream. A very special one. A dream that would allow you to live in a different reality than your own. But the dream is over now."

"I...I don't understand," Xena stammered. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing.

"I think you do. You understand very well."

She looked at him miserably.

"All right," he said, sighing. "I shall tell you what happened. From the beginning.

"When you came to me five days ago, to the hill of my father Hypnos, the god of sleep, you were desperate. You had blood on your shirt and had left your armour and your weapons behind you. You said you had buried them as you would have buried your past once. And you proposed me a deal. Now, I don't make deals usually but I made an exception for I saw how serious your situation had to be. So, I agreed.

"You told me you wanted to have only one dream. A dream that would give you the chance to have lived this life differently. I gave it to you in exchange for all the other dreams you ever had or will ever have. And now it is over."

"What are you talking about?"

"There is a pool of dreams in every human being, filled with the stuff of dreams at the moment of their birth. You have exhausted your supply of dreams. From now on my kingdom is forever locked to you."

"You mean, I can never dream again? For the rest of my life?" she asked. She was not really sure what it meant but somehow she didn't like the idea.

"That was the deal. Your dream lasted two years and a day but you dreamed it in only one night. You gave me exact details about how you wanted it to be, and I granted you all of your wishes. Along with that you always had the power to unconsciously influence the course of the dream without disturbing the experience. It was all as real as a dream could be. Nevertheless it was always a dream. Did you never notice how you would often perform impossible tasks and thereby save yourself and your fictional friends? How you would find rather ridiculous excuses for those miraculous performances? And when you think of how everything took place...don't you agree that the course of events was sometimes quite senseless, not to say chaotic? Yet in the reality of the dreams it might all make sense.

"However, it is over now. I have fulfilled my part of the deal and you have to face this reality again. I thought it was my responsibility to inform you at least although it was not part of the deal. I will go now. I don't believe that we will see each other again."

"No, don't leave!" Xena cried suddenly. "Don't go. Please. I don't understand..."

"It is not my duty to make you understand," stated the god.

"I give a damn about your duty! I have to know what happened! I have to know the truth!"

The god looked at her, a hint of sympathy glimmered in his expressionless face. He nodded.

This god was not like the others. Although he was immortal he was not one of them. His eyes were as far away as stars and the majesty of his presence could not be hidden. But his calm and steady voice combined with the way he would look at his dreamers gave him a charisma the rest of his family lacked. In a strange way he was closer yet more distant from humanity. Like the sky.

"All right, I will show you the truth. One truth anyway, the one that applies to you. But we have to leave Hades' realm. My powers are not sufficient here. Come." He offered her a pale hand. She took it.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Slowly she was gaining back her usual attitude along with that professional tone that made her voice as sturdy as leather.

"Into the dreaming."

"Don't I have to fall asleep first?" she reasoned.

The god shook his head.

"It seemed practical and comfortable to connect the realm of reality and the realm of dreams through that meaningful bridge you call sleep. It was not my idea but it worked well and therefore I kept it. However, it is not an obligation, at least not for me."

"What about my body?" she asked suspiciously.

The god smiled.

"Your concern is understandable but unnecessary. Your body will come with us."

Xena's eyes narrowed in doubtful lack of understanding.

"I prefer to keep some secrets to myself," the god said, answering the unspoken question.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sensation of crossing the boarders of reality and dream was unpleasant and disorientating without the sedating effects of sleep.

She had never entered the dreams while she had been awake. It was rather terrifying to consciously look at the very fabrics of the dark kingdom, to see what built those visions for us every night. It was like looking behind the stage after the crowds had gone and the actors started taking off the make-up. Her companion didn't appear to be very particular about it. She didn't know why he let her see all this. She only knew that she was not supposed to see it. No mortal was.

"Don't step off the path," said the god without looking at her. Xena nodded.

"What if I do step off the path? Will I get lost or something?" she inquired out of curiosity.

The god walked on in front of her. "I don't know."

Xena tried to force a sense into what she had just heard. After several attempts her mind capitulated.

"What do you mean with you don't know? I thought you were the god of this world."

"There are some things in this world that even I can't grasp. The dreaming is created by sleeping human minds, it has a will of its own. The landscapes here are alive. I am the lord of this realm but I am rather its king than its master. Do you understand?"

"No," she admitted. "Not really. And I'm not sure if I should understand it at all."

"It is entirely up to you," stated the god. "The only thing you have to know is that you must not step off the path."

A thousand and more ways led from one corner of the dreaming to the other. It was not impossible to imagine that these paths really connected every part of the never-ending country with the other. Some of the those ways were so near Xena could have jumped over to them. At least that was how it seemed. But looks could deceive. Maybe the distance was by far greater. The truth was that there were no measures by which to define space in the dreaming. Or time.

The god stopped in front of a gigantic castle. Two huge white dragons guarded the entrance.

"This is my home," said the god solemnly. "I offer you my hospitality."

"Oh, how nice. You're the first god to offer me anything like this." She bowed her head decently. "I accept."

The inside of the castle was as surreal as anything she had seen until now. Uncountable stairs in every possible and impossible angle led to other parts, levels and dimensions of the building. A labyrinth without a centre you could hope to arrive at, she thought.

"How big is this place?" Xena asked.

"How big could you imagine it to be?"

"No, I mean how...oh. I get it."

They sat down at a black wooden table in a room that seemed to be built of massive, dust covered stones. A fire that appeared to be a little too red in its colour warmed their weary faces and legs. The illumination came from nowhere special which was a bit distracting at first but Xena got used to it.

She was still not sure why she had come with him in the first place. She didn't like gods in general and this one wasn't extraordinarily likeable either. But above all she didn't trust them. And walking into their exclusive territory was like putting your head into a lion's mouth. She should have stayed with Gabrielle. But then Gabrielle was...no, that was not true. It couldn't be. It was horrible and perversely surreal at the same time. Just like a... dream. Damn!

"What happened to me?" she asked, her gaze not leaving the fire. "Did I become a monster? Is that why Gabrielle became like...this?"

"No. If you had, you wouldn't be here now. No, it's not you. It has never been you."

"What is it then?" she implored, facing him. Her face revealed truthfully that she was at the end of everything. Life had betrayed her. Fate had betrayed her. Even reality had betrayed her. What was there left to believe in? "What has gone wrong?"

The god gave her a thoughtful expression. Then he gestured towards the flames.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The fire leapt up to the sky, trying to tip at the stars and make them whine. Hopefully they would take this soul with them on their fleeting wings and lift it up to the stars, so that he may shine there with them together. That's what they wanted to believe.

Tiny streams of stars covered Gabrielle's cheeks as she closed her eyes to the cleansing fire. She spoke to the person behind her.

"Tomorrow I want to see Callisto lie dead before me."

Then she left.

Revenge was a bitter lover. Xena knew for herself how strong the urge to purge the soul with blood can become. Perdicus, Gabrielle's beloved husband, was dead, his remains consumed by the flames. Callisto was the murderer and therefore she would die. It was so simple. A few years ago Xena would have known no other way to solve this situation. But now a part of her knew that it was not true because nothing in life was so easy.

"If you give in to hate now, Callisto wins," Xena had said.

"She already won," Gabrielle had responded.

Was hate indeed stronger than love? Hate could destroy in seconds what love took many years to build up. It was powerful, no doubt. But was it really stronger?

Xena closed her eyes. She wanted to cry now but she couldn't. She had lost this ability somewhere on the way.

The next night Gabrielle was sneaking towards Callisto's chair. The floor was covered with the bodies of drunken men, forming a labyrinth of dirty flesh. When she was standing in front of the hated woman, who was still fast asleep on her throne, the sword was rising all by itself.

A myriad of thoughts rushed through her head in these mere seconds, framing every picture as a possible outcome of this act. She imagined the resistance of Callisto's skull against the blade and the force she would need and the jolt that would spread through her arms at the moment of connection and the scream and the blood and the pain and the remorse and the pain and the death and the feeling and the blood and the pulse and...

She had never killed before, never willingly taken the life of another human being. She couldn't do it. She had neglected everything she possessed to follow the path of bloodless conflict. To kill Callisto would forever destroy this fragile philosophy she had fought so hard to protect. It would cripple every hope for sense she had ever put into this dark world.

No, she couldn't do it. Callisto would live.

Then the sword came down.

She missed the head, and the blade cut into Callisto's shoulder. The fury awoke without a scream but with a whispered exclaim of surprise. Her glance wandered from Gabrielle's face to the weapon that was still stuck in her body, and back. Gabrielle waited for the moment the monster would leap at her and tear her to bloody shreds. The bard would be no more than another checked footnote on Callisto's death list. Closing her eyes would have been dramatically appropriate but useless. She was already looking into the face of death.

But the moment never came. Instead something happened behind those psychotic eyes. Understanding dawned in the place beyond. Realisation. And finally...regret.

"I can feel it," Callisto whispered. Her voice was trembling. "I...I can feel..."

Gabrielle had never beheld the woman weep before. She saw now that under the mask of the raging and violence lusting murderer was no more than a scared child. In this moment she knew that she had done it again. She had done what had eventually turned Xena into the person she was now. This was her own personal magic.

Gabrielle drew out the sword. The eyes shut to the pain, Callisto swallowed down the cry in her throat. Then she looked at Gabrielle and smiled sadly, a tear caught between her lips. The woman that lay there was now open and vulnerable. The first step was taken. With some caution and patience this warrior might evolve into a force for good. An ally. Possibly even a friend...

What Gabrielle understood now was that this woman wanted to be healed. Her entire being cried out for healing, for comfort and redemption. Her behaviour was no more than a desperate cry for help. Within this agonising shell a little girl was caught in an nightmarish existence of pain and blood. Her eyes were the testament of an attempt to understand a world that had failed to make sense. If the world did not succumb to its own rules why should she? Gabrielle had now opened the shell and exposed the life therein. As the crack grew wider the shadows retreated. That weak blonde girl had already given her a first hesitant smile. One of her delicate arms reached out for hold. The process of healing could start here and now. And she knew it, like the future itself had opened a small curtain for her eyes only. Gabrielle knew that if she now opened her arms Callisto would gratefully fall into her. The battle was over. No more blood...

Then the sword came down a second time, more precise and more powerful than before. She could feel the cracking of the skull in her fingers, its noise overshadowed Callisto's scream. Blood and brains spurted into Gabrielle's face and covered her chest and stomach.

She knew that she would have forgiven Callisto after she had changed. And the chance had taken place here, right before her eyes. But she didn't want to forgive this time. She wanted revenge. She didn't want Callisto to become good and honourable and peaceful, she wanted her to die. She would have wanted her to suffer but there had been no time for that. For the moment death was sufficient.

Gabrielle's senses sharpened and expanded. The full awareness of her deed struck her with the force of a giant's fist. An army of needles marched over her skin. She could feel her own breath caress her bare arms. Then she registered how Callisto's liquid remains poured down her chin. It was a dreadful yet exciting sensation. Goose-bumps began to spread over her entire body and she had a strange, warm feeling in her stomach. It was difficult to name this feeling but the closest term she could think of was... satisfaction.

The blood of her enemy warmed and comforted her. It would get cold very soon but then she would get new blood to restore the warmth. Death had become a part of her being. A hot stream of scarlet ran into her mouth. She tasted her enemy's life on her tongue.

And she liked it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"No!"

Xena closed her eyes and mind with her hands but it was no use. The story was already inside her head. "This is a lie! It never happened this way!"

But she knew it did.

"Oh gods..."

The god still sat beside her, unmoved by the images in the fire. Nothing could move the lord of dreams.

"Dreams cannot change the truth," he said mildly. "And tales never lie. These were the pictures and words that described the events of that night. I know they are discomforting, after all that's why you had come to me in the first place. But you demanded the truth. And I granted you your wish. Again."

He watched the warrior princess stare blankly into the fire for another set of moments.

"Do you wish you had never known?" he inquired.

The warrior shook her head. "Yes. No. I don't know. My unknowing wouldn't change the facts."

"But then they wouldn't hurt you."

Xena's expression became grim. "I am not weak enough to seek oblivion for the sake of happiness. Not yet."

Morpheus' face was still as unreadable as before. "Maybe you are right. We will see. You want to know more?"

Xena looked at him for a second, then she nodded.

"Why is Ares behaving so strangely?" she asked.

"Ares...deserves to be pitied. There's probably no immortal who is more the incorporation of his function in the world than him. While many gods altered their realms to fit their personalities, Ares' personality instead was altered by his realm. Aphrodite never learned what true love is. She only knows deceit and jealousy and thinks this is what her duty is about. So the form of love was altered a bit. But it's different with Ares. You cannot be the god of war without relishing in pain and destruction because you could never justify what you do. Not before others and certainly not before your conscience. That's why Ares became what he is."

"You mean he was different once?" Xena asked. She seemed rather shocked by the idea.

"Yes. He paid the tribute for ruling the merciless kingdom of war. It is not really his fault."

"What do you mean, not his fault? He created war!"

Morpheus eyed her doubtingly.

"If that is what you think, you are very naive," he said. "No god could possibly create things like love, war, death..." he smiled, "...dreams. They can provoke them, nourish them, influence them but the act of creating these ideals is far beyond their power. Only one type of being can do this. You humans are the manufacturers of love and war. Without your dreams there would be no dream kingdom. Without your life there would be no death. This world is not terrorised by war because of a god's will. The existence of war itself is what makes a god."

"You mean, the easiest way to defeat Ares would be to stop fighting?"

"It is not at all easy," said the god, "but it would be the most effective way. Without ongoing wars Ares has no real power. That's why he tries to induce hate wherever he can. He's the one who commands. But you are the ones who kill. War was here long before the gods came. The humans started destroying each other a very long time ago, even by immortal standards. Ares did not ask for this realm. The ways of guarding the powers of war were frightening, even to him. Some say that he went mad from the experience. War did this to him. Ultimately it's you humans who are responsible for his condition. And even if you were not, you are certainly responsible for your own actions. And as long as war is one of them, there will be a god to overlook it."

Xena's gaze dropped down to her hands. She felt guilty. And there was nothing to defend herself and the rest of humanity against all those accusations. Morpheus was right. It was so easy to blame the gods for everything humans did. And they took the blame willingly since it was their job, their function. The people could make it all end. But they wouldn't. Maybe this was the key to the actual existence of the immortals. Well, one key anyway.

"But to return to your question..." the god continued, "Ares had a certain influence on Gabrielle. When she proved ready to commit violence he took advantage of the situation and tried to recruit her for his army of warlords..."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"You can be one of my warriors," said the god. "Come. Come and take Xena's place at my side."

"I am not your warrior, Ares," Gabrielle said securely. She had abandoned her staff for a sword. When the moon shone onto the cold blade she could look at it for hours. She thought it was very beautiful.

"But of course you are," the god laughed. "Every warrior out there is in truth MY warrior. As soon as he thrusts his weapon at his enemy in the lust of war, it is for the glory of Ares!" He bowed slightly and smiled. "That's me."

"But I am not interested in wars," said Gabrielle. "I want revenge. I want to rid this world of all the evilness that causes this incredible plight and hate. I thought this craving would be stilled when I got Callisto's blood but I was wrong. I felt content for a moment. For a while. But it passed soon and I have to refresh it now. I can't feel..."

She fell silent.

This moment might have been another possible turning point in this dark procession. Here, where Gabrielle had to think about Callisto's words again... 'I can feel it...' about this pale absence of any feelings that formed such a deadly trap for anyone who was careless enough to take the path of cold blood. The cold could be felt. It crept into the soul of the wanderer, laying waste to all sources of warmth, covering them with a thin layer of ice. The things below could be seen but never touched. They would lie dormant there, and eventually they would wither away. The ice does not really preserve anything, that was a lie. It killed from within and the process was irreversible.

Gabrielle had the choice. But the moment passed and she chose to ignore it.

"I want death of evil in my hands, Ares, not armies and battles. No, I'm not interested. Perhaps I will form a pact with Hades but certainly not with you. Leave me alone now."

The god of war was too stunned to say anything for some seconds. His voice was fierce when he spoke.

"You are my creature!"

"If anyone can claim me as a creation it's Callisto and not you. I owe all this to her. And she already received my gratitude. Now go," said Gabrielle without looking at him.

Ares couldn't think of anything else to do, so he vanished.

"I will be back," his shadow echoed. She paid it no further attention.

Ares was blind. She would never become one of his soldiers. She still belonged to the good guys. She still fought for peace. The only difference was that she was no longer afraid of raising her sword to end it once and for all. These blood-lusting warlords deserved no better. What she did was right, she knew it. She knew it the moment she felt this deep tranquillity surge through her body as Callisto lay dead before her. So this is how it feels to destroy evil, her mind had whispered comfortingly. But it had also told her that the feeling would not abide unless she repeated the experience. She had smiled at the mere thought of it.

I've been such a fool, Gabrielle thought. Fighting evil was so easy. And it was by far more effective with a sharp blade. After all, ending an existence was very terminal. It was a very secure way of making sure that the warrior concerned would never shed innocent blood again. No husband, no child, no mother...none of them would ever be going to suffer the pain she had gone through the moment Perdicus died. Interesting. This is the first time that I can think of him without feeling the urge to cry.

The moon reflected on the blade. Gabrielle looked into this mirror and saw a person returning the gaze that was not her. Someone else met her glance with these pale, unfeeling eyes.

She shuddered. It had got very cold all of a sudden. She rubbed her hands together and thought of blood.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena's eyes grew narrow as the sequence of pictures took form in her mind, forcing meaning and recognition into her veiled memory.

She had felt despair and rejection but a very primary version of pure anger began to surface now. The fact that she had to accept these memories just because they were true only made it worse. She was angry at Gabrielle, angry at fate, angry at herself. Her conscience advised her to channel this anger soon before it developed into something as uncontrollable as hate.

"I have to know more," she stated calmly. "All of it."

The god nodded.

"It shall be."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What are you doing?"

Xena approached Gabrielle with carefully measured steps as if she were afraid to stumble. She stopped before the bard who was professionally sharpening her sword with a wet stone the size of a child's fist. The sword lay on her knees and shone like enslaved lightning. The fire in front of her threw shades into her face. A cotton cloak covered her shoulders, for the night's wind was not gentle to her. She didn't look up when she spoke.

"Well, what do you think I'm doing? I'm preparing myself." Her voice was unusually calm and reserved.

"For what?"

"For battle."

"There will be no battle, Gabrielle," Xena said. "Where is your staff?"

"I abandoned it. Fighting without the means to end the fight is pointless. I traded it in for this," She lifted the sword to eye height. "By far more effective." She continued the act of sharpening.

Sadness reflected in Xena's eyes. She didn't want to know. But she had to.

"I found Callisto. She's dead."

"I know."

"Who killed her?"

Gabrielle's moves came to a halt for a second. "I did." Then her arms went back to work.

Xena closed her eyes. When they opened again they displayed signs of loss. She didn't know what to say.

"No... that's not possible... an accident..."

"I killed her. I murdered her," said the blonde woman coldly. "She deserved it. She received the just punishment for her crimes. I made sure that she won't hurt anyone ever again."

Gabrielle's damp voice turned every single word into a lie. If there ever was truth in this it was now reversed by its source.

"What are you saying?" Xena whispered.

As Gabrielle finally looked up Xena had to suppress a shudder. She saw nothing in these eyes. There was no light beyond the mirror, only the mixture of green and black. Colours and the remembrance of life. But no Gabrielle.

"We can't afford to be soft, Xena. If we want to achieve anything at all we have to do it with terminal force. There is no other way."

"There is another way, and you found it," said Xena desperately.

"I was a fool. I didn't change anything. What I did had no effect. Callisto continued to kill and torment people, she didn't give a damn about love or life. Death was the only language she understood. It was her choice. Sow destruction and you will reap death." The stone went over the blade one last time. "And do you know what? Once we spoke the same language we understood each other perfectly."

"Gabrielle, this is not right. Don't do this..."

"Don't do what?"

Gabrielle stood up and positioned herself in front of her friend. The sword was still in her hand.

"I don't want to lose you," said Xena lowly. But a part of her knew she had already lost.

"Lose me? You never owned me," Gabrielle replied. "You are disappointed because I'm not your sweet innocent little child anymore. Because I've lost what you loved most in me. You wanted me as an eternal virgin, an untouched girl who never had contact with anything that could possible make me impure."

Something stung in Xena's eyes. It was so true.

"You needed me as an instrument for balance. Something to bring you back when you got one step too close to the source of your power. Darkness. I have made my acquaintance with the darkness and we get along very well. I can control it." Her sword moved. Moon-lightning touched the blade. "Grow up, Xena. I'm not a child. Not anymore. I have found my way. And I know that I'm right. This is right."

Xena swallowed hard. She felt everything she had ever fought - she had ever lived for - slip away.

"Gabrielle..." It was not even a whisper, maybe it was merely a thought.

"Face it, Xena!" Gabrielle stepped closer. "The time of innocence is over. I am a warrior now. Just like you. And we both have a job to do." She sheathed her sword and began to gather her belongings. "I heard about a warlord who was trying to invade a village north from here. It will either be his last attempt or mine. Are you coming with me?"

Xena fought desperately to hold back the tears.

"Yes."

Gabrielle smiled faintly. Her lips seemed to be frozen. Then she embraced her friend and held her like this for a few moments.

"We are still friends. Nothing has changed. I love you, Xena."

There was no emotion enclosed in this promise of love. It meant nothing. Xena looked down at the cold body and frozen soul that lay in her arms. She wished she could feel love for this woman. But she only felt the terrible pain of loss.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena could still sense the flames behind her closed eyelids. Her hands were folded in front of her face. With every picture, with every revelation a new fragment of her memory surfaced. It came back to her just in time to confirm what her mind had witnessed in the fire.

"What happened to the warlord?", she asked without opening her eyes.

"He died of course," said the god.

She nodded knowingly.

"Why didn't I try to stop her?"

"You did. You failed."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In horror she watched the warrior slowly glide from Gabrielle's blade, leaving a distinct trace of blood on it, like a map of his life. Gabrielle showed no emotions. There were none to show.

"He surrendered!" Xena shouted. "He gave you his sword! He trusted you with his life!"

"His life was not worth my trust," Gabrielle said. She vehemently cleaned her sword on the man's armour but some of the stains just wouldn't go away. "We have to be strong, Xena. This man was a murderer. He killed countless other men, women, possibly children. His life was worthless. His death was the only solution. We did the right thing."

"You are wrong!" Xena screamed. "What you do is wrong, Gabrielle! There can be no sense in killing the helpless! You are no better than him! There is no difference!"

"There is a fundamental difference. I am still on your side."

Xena fell silent.

"You think so?" she said darkly. Then she left.

Gabrielle was alone in the hut now. Only she and a cold body.

She looked at her sword and tried to read her future in the patterns of blood that covered the steel.

She was right, wasn't she? What she did made sense.

But maybe Xena is right, she thought. Maybe I'm not good enough for this side anymore. Maybe I'm not worthy to fight for good.

"Well," she said aloud, "then there is only one thing left to do."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena swallowed. It tasted bitter.

"Change sides. If you can't meet the requirements to fight for good, then fight for evil."

She looked at Morpheus. He nodded.

"My gods..."

"Gabrielle always had the potential to become what you had once been, perhaps something worse. Until that day you never knew how she would react to her first kill. You prayed that it would depress her, cripple her... throw her into an eternal melancholy. Even suicide would have been preferable to this state. That's why you never wanted her to come too close to a battle. You protected her from her own fate. You feared that the old Gabrielle, as pure and innocent as she seemed, was no more than a facade, hiding something by far darker. A force for evil."

The warrior bit her lip. Her voice was shaking when she spoke.

"I remember a prayer. The night before Callisto died."

"Yes."

"It didn't help, did it?"

"What did you expect?"

Xena nodded solemnly to herself. The gods were not here to help, this was a well-known fact. She was almost afraid to ask the next question for she knew the answer in advance.

"What happened to Joxer?"

"She killed him. As her first tribute to her new side."

Xena's sight wandered into the past. "He wanted to stop her..."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She pulled back his shoulder, throwing him to the ground. The anger in her expression was sharp enough to cut through stone, and an entire life of practice made sure that it was aimed into the right direction. It only hit the vital parts.

"Joxer, stay where you are!"

"Don't try and stop me!" he replied a bit hesitantly. Insecurity was a vital part of his being. "I will go back to her...and you can do nothing against it... er... that's what I hope that is."

Xena tried another tactic.

"She is not herself anymore. She has changed..." Xena breathed, "she scares me."

Joxer stood up, brushing off his armour.

"Well, whatever," he said. "I will talk to her. She's my friend, too. And if you ask me, you're by far scarier than her."

"Joxer..."

"I love her!" He calmed down again. "I love her. And I simply won't let her go. That is all."

He turned to walk away. Xena had to throw in her most desperate weapon now.

"Joxer, she doesn't love you. She never did and she never will." She hated herself.

The fool in the ridiculous armour looked at her sadly and nodded.

"I know," he said. Then he stumbled on.

He found her inside the leathery hut, waiting. A thick fur coat covered her entire body and made her look bigger than she actually was. Her gaze was fixed on the perfectly polished sword that lay on her lap. The candlelight that reflected on the blade grinned like a mouth of flames.

"Joxer," she said when he entered. She gave him a friendly but cold smile.

"Er..." was everything he could reply. "Maybe I should come back later..."

He turned to go but Gabrielle's voice kept him back like a snare around his heart.

"No, please stay," she said. Her fingers went over the cold blade, savouring the feeling of the plain and hard surface. Joxer watched and couldn't help thinking that she had never touched him this way. At least not when he was awake. His mouth became dry.

"I...eh...Xena was worried about you... eh... she said I... I should..."

"Forget Xena," Gabrielle said sharply. Then her voice became as soft as milk. "Let's talk about us."

Joxer's knees felt like jelly.

"Eh... us? You mean us us?"

Gabrielle stood up and turned to him. Joxer saw now that under the wolf skin she was completely naked. Further he noticed that she didn't even try to hide this fact. He tried not to stare at her breasts. And her stomach. And her lips. Gods, she was so beautiful...

"Do you like me, Joxer?" she asked innocently. He almost choked.

"Er, like? Well, I... I kind of...well, sort of yeah... ahem...like..."

Her arms closed behind his back. Her coat dropped to the ground. Joxer's lungs fought for air.

"Ah..."

He forgot what he wanted to say when her tongue slid into his mouth. And he had to admit, it felt like heaven. He had waited for this moment so long, and he had been sure that he would wait for it until the end of his life. It was so unreal to him that he thought he was dreaming. Yet his dreams had never felt so warm. Damn, what was it he wanted to say? He had known it a moment ago. Hm. Maybe something like 'hey Gabby, what do you want with my sword?'

The next thing he felt - or rather heard - was the sound of steel gliding into flesh, severing bones on the way. The pain came a split of a second later.

He wanted to scream but Gabrielle's lips still sealed his mouth. The blood began to rush up his throat. He could still taste her tongue.

When their lips separated his mouth moved in protest. But no sound escaped. Only blood.

Gabrielle looked with curiosity at the sword in her hands. Joxer knew it very well.

"Ironic, isn't it?" she said thoughtfully as he sank onto his knees. His red hands tried to cover the shameful hole in his body. Somehow he felt warm inside. His mind began to drift away.

"Slain by your own sword," Gabielle continued. "I think I will keep it. It will remind me of you. And it's not a bad weapon either. I hope you don't mind."

Joxer wanted to say that a true warrior never gave away his weapon but that he would do anything to make her happy, so she could have it. But he still couldn't speak. Damn, he thought.

She knelt down before him. Her whole image grew increasingly more hazy.

"I thought I should grant you this small wish before I kill you," she said. "It was only fair."

Kill me?

Her eyes narrowed.

"Joxer, are you still there?"

Yes.

"Joxer?"

Yeah, it's me. What's the problem?

"Greet Hades. Tell him that I will try to feed him as many souls as possible. I will do my best."

Then he was gone.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It had become very silent in the room. The fire made no sound whatsoever and the god did not even breathe. For Xena it was a very distracting situation to hear only herself. Probably Morpheus noticed her expression for the flames suddenly began to make cracking noises. She relaxed. She would have thanked him but she feared the words would stick in her throat. Then she realised that she had stopped breathing.

She drew air into her heavy lungs and it immediately felt better. She was not ready to die yet.

"What about Dahak?" she said at last.

"He never existed. A symbol you associated with Gabrielle's change."

"Hope?"

"The personification of Gabrielle's evil in an innocent shell. Evilness in the form of a child, that was your vision of Gabrielle. And shortly before the dream ended, Hope became Gabrielle altogether. And both died."

Xena swallowed.

"Argo? My horse?" she asked.

Morpheus allowed himself a decent smile as he gestured for her to follow.

He lead her into a seemingly infinite garden that appeared to be wild and sophisticated at the same time. The grass had permission to grow freely but the flowers had arranged themselves in symbolic ornaments. The sun was not visible yet its light was. Dew made the plants glisten, and as they moved like waves, rhythmically in the soft wind, the garden looked like a majestic green ocean.

The familiar sound of an old friend's joyful greeting made her heart race. There she was, Argo, running to her, covering the distance in mere seconds. Xena forgot everything around her and stepped forward to greet her friend. She stroke Argo's nose and flanks and lay her cheek at the horse's neck. She couldn't remember when she had felt so happy before. It seemed like an eternity ago.

"She was so beautiful that I offered her a place in the dreams when she died", said Morpheus. "She accepted."

Xena looked at him questioningly.

"You can do such a thing?"

"Yes. But it's more difficult with humans. Their beings are too complicated. Yet if an animal dies unexpectedly, before it could find peace, then I can offer it the choice."

"Gabrielle?" Xena asked. Argo obviously noticed a change in her mistress' expression. She tried to rub her nose against Xena's neck.

"Yes," said the god. "Argo knew something was wrong. But Gabrielle was your friend, and she had just started to get used to the fact that she had to accept her. Until it was too late."

"Why?" Xena said grimly.

"Who can say? Gabrielle enjoyed the act of killing. And she knew it would hurt you deeply."

The memory had come back now like all the others before. The pain inside accumulated. It was almost unbearable. "It did."

She gathered what was left of her courage to summon her last question. There was a spark of hope enclosed in this solitary word.

"Solan..."

The god nodded. "Your son is alive."

Xena's eyes shone. But some gloomy aspect in the god's voice told her that something was wrong.

"Is he all right?"

The god said nothing.

"I want to see him!"

"You will not like what you will see," said the god.

"I give a damn! Take me to my son! Now!"

Xena knew that commanding this entity before her was senseless. But that was not important right now.

The god lifted his right hand, the palm turned to the violet skies. A simple black candle with a small but distinct flame appeared. It was purely white and shone through the very fabrics of the dreaming. It would lead them across the dreams, to the place they were seeking.

Stepping out of the dreaming they entered a darkened room, decorated with various ornaments that were carved into wood. The remains of a small fire smouldered noiselessly, the embers throbbing like a beating heart. In a corner, wrapped into a wool blanket lay a child. He was trembling, but not because of the temperature, for the heat in the small dark room was intense. He was freezing from inside. His empty eyes were wide open, gazing into an unreachable eternity that existed only within. His head was shaven and covered with fresh scars. A small stream of saliva ran out of his half opened mouth. Xena could have died from the cruelty of this picture. She wished she hadn't come.

"Solan..."

She stepped closer. The child showed no reaction. Xena knelt down before him. The child now looked straight into her eyes. Yet their gazes never met.

"Can he see me?" she asked in a choked voice.

"No," the god answered. "His mind is focused on the world inside him. The dreaming. His dreams are very strong."

"What does he dream?"

"He experiences a mixture of memory, fantasy and surreality. It repeats itself. Over and over again."

Xena said nothing.

"They tried everything they could to get him out of this state," the god continued, "but it all proved useless. They sent him through a series of purification rituals, prayers and medical treatments. Without success. He will probably never wake up again. He is forever trapped in a world of nightmares."

Xena nodded faintly but said nothing.

"All of them agree that he suffers from a great mental shock. Most of them think that it is irreparable. But they care for him. It is all they can do."

"Can't you help him?" she whispered. "Can't you alter his dreams at least?"

"No, not to speak of. Those are his memories, his mind, his dreams. I do not have the power to interfere in any way worth mentioning."

Xena stood up.

"I want to enter his dreams. I want to see what he sees. I know that you can do that."

The god looked at her seriously. Then he nodded.

"Yes, I can do it. And I will."

With a movement of his hand he put out the candle. As the shadows deepened Xena knew that they had entered the dreaming again. And that they were in a very special part of the hidden realm. They were witnesses, the privileged audience to a fearful performance. With the certainty of a wakened dreamer Xena understood that they were not inside the dream but on neutral ground, watching it from a close but safe place.

The world around them was a yellowed, shifting version of reality. A traumatic vision with no absolutes and no impossibilities, it still insisted that this world had a purpose. Although not necessarily a pleasant one.

The mind of a child.

Although it should be a bright and sunny day the shadows washed over the grass, leaving spots of darkness on the way. No cloud hindered the rays of the sun yet the air seemed to be shaded and misty, pregnant with menace. This was a child's vision of horror. Everything appeared to be normal, still something indefinably dark was brooding below the surface, waiting for the moment to strike.

Solan was there. He was always there. The dream wouldn't take place without him. He enjoyed the sun but he also knew what was to come. Still there was nothing he could do to change the course of events. He had lived through them a thousand times already, and after this he would live through them some thousand times more. He had to play along because his memories commanded him to do so. One static fabric in an entirely dynamic cloth.

And there was Gabrielle as she had been, shining and lovely, the staff in her hand. Yet her smile was as far removed as a forlorn memory for it did not penetrate the air. Then the scope flexed and Gabrielle changed.

"Didn't you say you wanted to be a warrior, Solan?"

Someone screamed "NO" and it was Solan. But someone nodded silently and that was Solan, too. Solan looked at the sword in his hands. He was sure it hadn't been there a moment ago. Gabrielle laughed. Solan looked at the blood on the blade. He wondered how he could see the moon in the blade although it was bright daylight. The sword was polished clean.

"Solan, didn't you say you wanted to be a warrior?"

She looked at him, Joxer's sword in her hands. "Didn't you want to be a warrior, Solan? A warrior?"

The air around them turned red all of a sudden. Sundown. They were walking hand in hand. Gabrielle smiled.

"You want to be a warrior, don't you, Solan?"

Gabrielle was naked. Solan looked at her body and his face became red like the sun. Gabrielle laughed. "A warrior, Solan. Solan, a warrior." She had a man in her hand at his throat. He looked at her pleadingly, the eyes so big, they almost looked funny. His legs broke and he screamed. He winced painfully as he lay there before them.

"You said you wanted to be a warrior, Solan." No! "A warrior, Solan." NO! Gabrielle laughed. "Like your mom, Solan. A warrior like your mom." She held his hand and his hand held the sword. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. But he couldn't move. As if his legs were broken. His hand moved towards the wincing body. "Like your mom, Solan." A thump in his arm. Her hand was gone. But the air turned crimson. Gabrielle laughed. Then she was standing beside him again. And the air turned crimson. The man was looking at him now. Please don't... A thump went through his arm. The body opened. And Solan felt the air grow crimson in his face and on his hands. The man still winced and the crimson flowed out of him. It climbed onto Solan's skin. He wanted to throw up but he couldn't. And Gabrielle laughed and laughed. His hands swept across her naked skin, painting it crimson. His head felt strange and far away from this place. She licked his hands. And then his face. And her lips and her tongue were crimson. "A warrior, Solan?" And she laughed and laughed and laughed. He saw her above himself for a very long moment... a very short eternity. Then he only saw the red sun. Crimson. Forever crimson. The crimson sun. The blood of the sunset.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena wept but her eyes were dry. The way a warrior cried. The god stood nearby, the candle again lit in his hand. Around them was only the heat of the small dark room.

Gently the god took her by the hand and led her outside where the night air was eager to cool her skin. Before them lay the endlessness of a midnight meadow. The candle was gone. There was no need for it anymore.

"I wanted to kill her," Xena said securely. It was statement, not a question. "I ran out to look for her everywhere. I searched for one night and one day. In the evening I found her."

"That night," said the god, "you did the last sacrifice."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sunlight slowly died away on the wet grass, painting it crimson like the blood of the sunsets. The wind had apparently forsaken this part of the world and the air was soaked in timid heat.

Xena could spot her from afar. She hastened towards the lonely figure who was waiting for her. Both of them drew their swords in the process.

When Xena came to a halt they could see each other's eyes perfectly. Yet there was an infinity between them, a rift of immeasurable width. Both of them had assumed a fighting position. One acknowledged the other's typical posture. They knew each other so well.

Then there was an eternity of burdening silence. Even dire enemies would have had something to say to each other in this moment. But they were something worse. They were lovers who had grown to hate one another. There was nothing left to say.

Xena started forward, raising her sword in an offensive attack tactic. The strike would have cut down a tree. You have gone too far, Gabrielle.

The other warrior had expected as much and parried the blow easily. I am not your girl anymore, Xena. I am different now. Friends can be a nuisance and love can kill you. Wipe that sad look off your face! I won't come back to you!

There was enough time to react. Gabrielle had learned a lot in a very short time but Xena had the benefit of a life full of practice. You killed Joxer! I would have forgiven you anything, but he, he loved you! And you killed Argo! You destroyed my son's mind! Why? WHY?!

With untamed fury the warrior princess made a full turn and executed a strike aimed at her opponent's neck. Gabrielle ducked under the singing blade. Joxer was the easiest to kill. He didn't recognise his own death, even as his life ran out of his body. Your foolish horse thought that I was a friend until the last moment when I cut open her belly. You child became mad from the sight of blood on his hands. You must know how it feels like to have life and death at your whim. It is powerful. And you wanted to deny me this power! You wanted me to be weak and tame and innocent! How dare you!

Gabrielle's foot buried itself into Xena's stomach. She stumbled and fell on her back. The pain inside her was strong. Strong enough to overshadow the concussion. That's why she could block the descending blade. Her eyes were still clear and her mind focused on the pain. Not only her own but those of all her friends. I wanted to spare you the blood. I wanted to protect you from this evil side that lies dormant in us all. Some of us die happily without having ever laid eyes on the shadow, the dark half of the soul. Fighting against it is worse than death. It is the most terrible battle of all. It never ends. And you just have to surrender once. Only one defeat and you can never return. Gabrielle...

Gabrielle screamed as she forced her sword down on her foe for a second time. But Xena rolled over and catapulted her body into standing position. The other warrior stared at her with bared teeth. Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!

Their swords connected in rapid sequence, testing the other's speed and agility. Xena had gone into defence and parried all of the strikes effortlessly. I can never forgive you. But you can still turn back.

Xena believed she saw something glisten in the corner of Gabrielle's eye. What is my life worth then, Xena? Without you in this hell of blood? Where even the sun has to die? No...

The last strike caught Xena by surprise for it was not aimed at her chest but at her legs. She reacted quickly and jumped back but Joxer's blade left a bloody strain on her thigh. Gabrielle grinned. Bet this is the first time that this sword tastes the blood of an enemy.

Xena's face distorted in agony. Not because of the wound on her leg but because of the sudden realisation that only one of them would leave this field alive. Either way she would be the loser. Gabrielle, please...

It is too late, Xena. Gabrielle looked at her feet for a fleeting moment filled with cognition and an understanding of what she had become. But her newly acquired warrior's instinct prevented her from letting her eyes off her enemy for too long. It is over, one way or the other. Don't you understand? This is the end for both of us. Come. Our last embrace.

She opened her arms symbolically. An inviting gesture. Xena's grip tightened around the hilt.

"Goodbye Gabrielle," Xena said lowly.

Gabrielle had to lift her sword above her head to parry the next strike, and this was exactly what Xena had intended. Her blade glided powerlessly off her opponent's sword and found a path into Gabrielle's stomach. She could feel Gabrielle's heartbeat as splashes of warm blood on her hand and chest. The sound of shattering bones could be heard for a second.

Gabrielle blinked at her in surprise. Joxer's sword made a clashing noise as it hit the wet grass. Then she looked down at the steel in her body. In a sudden moment of realisation Xena's hand opened and Gabrielle fell. Fell...

It took the body an eternity to sink into the grass. But it did not move. Xena looked at her hand, wet with her friend's warm blood.

Then she started to run. Her body ran away from the field of death and her mind ran away from the memories. But it was no use. From some things there is no escape. Unless...

Unless she had a destination. A place to run to where no one could follow her. A place where she could hide from the pain. Yes...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xena looked at her hand. There was no blood on it. Not anymore. But in her memories it was crimson. She closed her eyes to shut out the pain of memory. But it hadn't worked then and it didn't work now. She felt sick. If death was eternal darkness she would embrace it right here. But she knew death was not so merciful.

"Now you know it, all of it," said the god at her side. "I've done my part, indeed more than that. Now it's up to you."

"Give me back my dream," Xena said, fighting against the tremble in her voice. "Please..."

Morpheus shook his head. "I'm sorry but I can't do this. Even I have to stick to a few rules. There is no glamour left in you, nothing to form dreams of. From my point of view you are no more than an empty shell."

"I will do anything you want," Xena pleaded. "Just let me dream. Only once more."

"No. If I did this I would have to steal the dreams of other dreamers. This would damage the realm irreparably. I'm very sorry. You have to go now. I don't think that we will ever meet again."

Then he vanished.

As Xena left the dreaming her thoughts continued to punish her. There was no way out of this. Her agony was eternal. Trapped. No way out...

With these memories inside her she could not live. Her existence would be a torment, a picture painted with blood and loss. A grotesque substitute for life.

But neither could she die for Gabrielle was waiting for her in the underworld. And being close to her again would be the worst suffering of all.

And she could not flee into the dreaming because there were no more dreams inside her where she could hide.

Yet there was still a fourth alternative. One that Morpheus did not consider.

She would wait. She would wait for the moment when the god needed her help. When a situation arose he was unable to deal with alone. Then she would be there to stand at his side. She would help him. She would overcome monsters and demons until he owed her a favour. A favour she would trade in for a dream. A wonderful dream. A perfect little dream...

Xena grinned. Someday the god of dreams would owe her a dream. In the darkness of an overcast night she began to wait.

She had all the time in the world.

Xena blinked. The wave of heat hit her face and tiny fragments of ash clung against her skin.

She drew back her hand and watched in horror down the abyss where her friend had just vanished. Her heart beat against her chest. Gabrielle was gone. Dead.

She turned around. Ares was gone. Callisto was dead. Hope was dead. Joxer was... there.

No time to lose.

"Joxer, come on, we will make a journey."

The excuse for a warrior looked at her unbelievingly. "What? Now? Where?"

"To the bottomless lake," Xena replied. "I have to exchange a few words with Hades."

Joxer understood what went on in her head. "Xena, she's dead," he said not without a certain suppressed sobbing in his voice.

"Not for long," said Xena. "Come on. I will explain my plan on the way."

They left the hall and the fire behind. When Xena reached the entrance she threw a last glance at the damned room. For a split second she thought she could see the image of a dark cave and the outlines of a majestic meadow. Her mind grabbed for these images but withdrew suddenly with a feeling of burned fingers. No, there was just the hall and the fire. Nothing more. And Gabrielle...

She shook her head and went on. She had to get to Hades and rescue her friend. There was no other alternative.

Last words:

I think this story is really better than The Bard's Song. The whole atmosphere is more to my liking and I think my style has improved.

Bad English? I warned you. I am German.

Too disgusting? Why, thanks for the compliment.

Too depressing? Hm. Perhaps you are right. This story systematically destroys everything Xena has ever lived for. And then it shows, in an almost voyeuristic way, how our heroine succumbs to her weaknesses. It is a very nihilistic form of tearing a dream apart. And this is exactly what I wanted to do. To tear it apart. To throw down a sacrilege. To commit blasphemy.

It was all over the moment Xena awoke. The magic that had kept her alive was gone. She had to find out that it is quite easy to regain your sense of reality but by far more difficult to retrieve your dreams once they are gone. This is of course rubbish. Or is it?

She also realised that hiding from reality in dreams does not solve anything. On the contrary, it made things worse for her.

So, what is it all about? Where is the hidden sense? What is the message of this story?

To tell you the truth, I don't know. Is there a message? Maybe some riddles are too complicated for a simple man like me to answer. And maybe there are no riddles and we simply have to accept the facts as they are. We can't hope to find the perfect solution because there is none. Because there is not even a riddle to solve.

And maybe this is just a dark fantasy story and nothing more. Like Morpheus said: "It is entirely up to you."

As for Gabrielle... there always has to be an evildoer. Otherwise there would be no story.

Those of you who have read The Bard's Song may have noticed some familiar motives that reappear in the course of the story. I did not do this due to a lack of ideas but for a reason. No, I won't tell you. Find out for yourself.

Those of you who did not read The Bard's Song... don't worry. It's not really important.

And maybe you detected some famous one-liners from a few episodes built into new situations. No? Then you will have to read it again I suppose.

Anyway, thank you for spending so much time with me. And if you have any critics, curses or compliments you'd like to share, simply contact me:

mail@satachrist.com.

I am grateful for any kind of comments.

I hope to see you someday, one way or the other.

Until then take care.

Satachrist

January '99