The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse. It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights.
"You know, Callisto" My voice arced up for a moment, as if in speculation. Then I said, when I could find my voice again, "For a Goddess of Mercy, you sure know how to stir the pot." The sky was a funny shade of gray, peppered with darkling spots that crowded my vision. My fingers felt tufts of grass, and I was thoroughly appreciating my prone position, at the moment.
I heard a weak laugh and then response of, "Hey, don't blame me for this little fiasco." There was a rustle, as if someone were sitting up.
'Brave woman,' I thought. I wasn't inclined to move just yet. My muscles felt like rubber. My eyeballs were on fire. The scent of blood had been replaced with the repellent stench of smoke, overlaid with roses and honey. There wasn't a bush or beehive in sight.
Weird.
I felt her lean over me, more than saw it. Though I could make out her pretty face. She managed, somehow, to look unscathed, though a little rumpled. For a goddess, a bolt of power withstanding, life always went on. Ob la di, Ob la da....I could have gone for being in market right then..."Blame Mr. Macho over there."
I grunted. "No, I think I'll blame *you*. *You* couldn't keep your big mouth shut. *He* was just being himself." No way was I turning my head right now.
I felt her hands grip my waist and then I GROANED as she pulled me up into a sitting position. It was her retaliation for having blame put squarely where it belonged: on her. The dark sparkles swirled madly in my vision and it took me a moment to find my center again. I leaned against her warm chest and listened to her heart beat for a few seconds. Even if it weren't blood pumping through her veins, I loved the noises her body made. Gods don't have to breathe, but if they love you, their hearts pound a soothing rhythm...and the air pushes through their bodies. She warmed me against the cool wind now brushing my skin, my grip on her tightening slightly against it.
I sighed. "I suppose it's too much to hope that the door is still there?"
"'Fraid so, love. It's a goner." She shifted so I was still resting against her, but had an easy view to where the door *had* been. Aside from the black dots roaming my view (and they were fewer than before), There wasn't so much as a spot to indicate where the door was supposed to be.
I didn't really want an answer, but with one exit gone, that meant the other had to be found. And fast! I remembered I had a two o'clock with Mel and Pony (I could feel the silent if hysterical laughter welling up inside me at the thought; hey, I was *still* project director!).
One thing I had to give Amazon Inc. They had fail-safes atop fail-safes. Must have been Pony's experiences in the Army. The problem was, when the program was running, the escape hatch was invisible. The only thing I knew was that it was on the ground ‘floor' somewhere. But who knew which direction. You just had to *know* where it was...and *I* had been too busy to keep track.
Some programmers were just *too* good at their work.
If I groaned loudly before, my response to this news was even more auricly intrusive. I lifted my hand to my face and covered my eyes for a moment. "Gods," I muttered.
Callisto tisked at me. "How come we always get the blame."
"'Cause you deserve it?" I looked up at the face of my rediscovered wife and smiled limply, as the joke fell flat. Hers was rueful in return. "Xena?" I asked, almost hopefully.
"If we're lucky, she's with Ares." She nodded towards our husband, who was a short distance away. I noticed, that Ares seemed to be crouching over someone...or something. . .my vision was still behaving poorly. I didn't know what Callisto was seeing.
"And if she's not?"
There was a loud startling bang from behind me, though a quick look over my shoulder assured me there was nothing there. We'd somehow gone from the forest to a shallow valley of buff-colored grass and the occassional outcropping of rock. That was the miracle of technology. Callisto pursed her lips, then pulled me off of the ground. "Then we are in a world of trouble."
With these encouraging words in mind, we set off to rejoin our husband. Or rather, Callisto set off and basically carried me (in vertical as opposed to horizontal position, damn it all!) the entire way. I was still jaybird and starting to feel self-conscious. Neither of my spouses said anything, though gods knew all this exertion was building certain needs in us all. I mean, *I* was feeling the burn of need, so I figured they must've been as well. Though, at the moment, you'd never tell from their stony expressions.
My vision had cleared by the time we reached Ares, who still hadn't looked up. He probably heard our approach, as he immediately said, "Pleased with yourself?" His voice had brittle, cracked, edge to it. something told me we were about to get a full-blown rage out of him. Callisto at least had the good grace to look a *little* sheepish.
"Well," she shrugged. "How was I supposed to know she had so little self-control?"
Ares growled and stood, prompting me to focus on the form at his feet. Oh boy, it was going to start. I winced in anticipation, then blinked.
I guess the arguments were inevitable, given that I'd married into passionate side of the pantheon, ..the really really really passionate side, but I hated seeing my spouses lay into each other. This was more because it was so monumentally embarrassing than anything else. Try this for a vision...Get six Gods to agree on how to raise a child.
Can you see it?
Well, raising kids takes a lot of fine tuning, especially when there are several adults in the household. Add to that any sort of willfulness and stubborn pride and somtimes divergent notions of how childrent ought to be raised and you've got quite a mix.
Heck, you've got quite a mix without the kids.....they're just a lovely bonus.
With that in mind, visualize the our beloved gods quarreling like five year olds in a toy room. Aphrodite waving barbie about as if she were a wand, Ares talking notions of warriorness and holding up a wooden sword and Gabrielle (bless her..I was totally missing her now that I *KNEW* for a fact that she existed) discussing the need for art in children's lives. Now none of this should bring up too much opposition, since love, warriors and art all have their place, but... you know...sometimes rows start over the stupidest things.
Personally, I'd long lost count of the number of times I'd had to shoo Jolene, Chronos and Nikkos out of the room while trying to referee the latest spat among the six. Zeus alone knew how Mel and Jan managed to keep the peace for so long.
It must have been that, ultimately, my spouses loved each other (and me, I thanked my good fortune!) beyond words.
Their passions ALways swung back to where the heart lay and most days...most days with my loves were bliss. They all took their duties as Gods seriously, yet they had time for their nongodly spouses...who could complain?
I realized that this was something Cal and Ares were going to have to work out themselves and I tuned out the noise the pair of them were making (and it was a LOT of noise) and concentrated on the prone form at my feet. It was a body, or at least once had been. Damaged and ruined as it was, it clearly wasn't Xena's. Thank Zeus! The very prospect of *that* left me cold.
It had been a man. A beefy one at that, judging by size and shape. He was decked out in the remains of leather armor and ornate breastplate, the style of which was familiar. Fine details of both his face and armor were obliterated by what must've been an inferno. His skin was coal black, hanging from his exposed bones in great flaky chunks, what was left of his face twisted and frozen in a cry of horror. Van Gogh had nothing on this one. The poor bastard was little more than a charred husk of burnt flesh and leather, his pitted and cracked armor all that was holding him together.
Kneeling down, I got a better look at the breastplate. It had been melted and warped, but I could make out the form of a great bird, its wings extended and beak opened in call, and a very unsettling suspicion came to mind.
I immediately looked up, eyes to the horizon. Callisto and Ares were still squabbling and their words were careening into the void. fortunately it hadn't come to blows yet (it was nearly impossible to pry them apart when they *really got started up. First for the fight and then... well...then I usally wanted to join in...if they would let me.), and I called over my shoulder. "Uh, guys." I didn't dare take my eyes off the sight. They'd ignored me, so I tried again. "Guys!" I actually shouted.
That got their attention. It was an unwritten rule in our household: nobody yells at me (except Callisto, and Maybe Xena, but only when I. . .misbehave) but I can yell at everyone else, as needed (since acting as balance is part of the reason for my existance). Truthfully, I hardly yell at all (since I'd much rather love than fight...and yelling is usually a waste of time) and It generally works when I do, especially in keeping the property damage to a minimum. They both shut up, looking first at me, then following my eyes to the crest of the horizon.
We were now surrounded on all sides by what must've been a few hundred figures. I could make out long spears, swords, *big* battle axes, what have you, but couldn't tell if they were men or women. Didn't really matter as they had the silent-and-scary routine down pat.
Callisto and Ares took up flanking positions on either side of me, their quarrel forgotten and bodies tensing for a fight. As they did, the figures parted before us, allowing several riders atop large black war horses clear path into the valley. The riders bore down on us at a fast clip, though Ares was quicker in his response. He raised one arm, snapping it out, palm opened to throw. . .
-nothing-
-no lighting, no blinding force-
-nothing-
A look of shock and mounting confusion passed between us as Callisto tried the same.
With the exact same results. No godslightning lept from her fingers. No power bolts.
Nothing.
"Ohhhh, boy," was all I could think right then.
The riders were on top of us in seconds.
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This page was last updated: September 30, 1998
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