The Xena Scrolls
By: Gabrielle Bard of Podedia
Scroll #76: To Tartarus And Back
January, 46 BC
This is the story of a lost soul which found itself having gone to Tartarus and Back. And so it began with a cool calming breeze whisping over the young girl who had fallen in and out of consciousness. It whisped over her damp body as she lied there alone. A blond fair-skinned young woman, she was unaware of anything except for what had been in the moment of this present. She struggled desperately to regain her conscious mind as she felt something cold push underneath her limp body. As she desperately worked to pull herself back into the world she could smell the salt and hear the distant crashes of the sea. She was certain it was the sea squinting her blue-green eyes as she looked up toward the sky limp on the beach. Her hair was wet with only small wisps blowing in the wind smacking her face into what seemed to be familiar.
Things were beginning to come into focus for the young woman. She could feel her salt filled lungs breathing in and out with a heavy feeling of the chest. It was a bit uncomfortable yet it indicated that death had not yet stolen her life. She was for certain that she would have passed with her last conscious thought, but it seemingly did not happen. The young woman appeared of age 20, 21, or maybe even 22. She wasn’t even certain herself for the moment. Had time gotten away from her? Why was she here washed up on a beach? And what beach was this? Was it a beach in a paradise called the Elysian Fields? Was it a beach in the land of the dead? She thought to herself as she lied on the beach slowly focusing on her surroundings yet feeling too weak to rise from her current state.
Her eyes focused on the blue sky with it’s fluffy clouds keeping the pace of the sunlight glistening off of the waves coming into the shore. There was seemingly no other life for miles. Suddenly her thoughts were rudely interrupted by her chest purging itself of the salt and the water which had invaded her body. She struggled to cough and tried to raise up to assist her chest in its work. The she slowly rose pulling herself up with her arms. Her hair continued to blow in the breeze as she coughed and tried to pull herself away from the incoming serf. It was cold and it was beginning to make her shiver. Chills began to run through her body and a bit of fear for the fact that she was almost completely unaware of even her own identity in the present.
As she pulled herself away from the surf her coughing began to subside. The salt water had been purged as her chest rose up and down quickly in relief from its prison. She gazed out about the sea with a feeling of serenity yet uncertainty. She couldn’t remember anything accept fire. It was her last conscious memory. There was a certain sadness, a loss that came over her as this fiery vision haunted her mind. A look of confusion spread across her face as she held her head in her hands almost as if she were suffering from a migraine, but that wasn’t what it was. Suddenly she shook her head as if trying to shake this awful trace of the past from her being.
She looked up at the sea again feeling the gentle breeze beating on her face. There was something familiar about this place. It was as if she had been to it before. She looked down at her shaking body and felt the material of her wet clothing clinging to her skin. There was a bit of relief of her modesty as she realized that she had something to cover her. Her chest rose to take a deep breath. Time seemed to stand still, but for how long she did not know. As her conscious mind began to return closer to its natural state she decided that she must leave this place. Where she wanted to go was not certain. Who she would be looking for was also cloudy to her, but she knew that she had to find someone. That need to find someone was what drove her inside to rise from her limp feeling.
She would endure the pain and pull herself to her feet. The young woman felt afraid inside. She rose to her feet and walked slowly on her weak limbs. She reached down to rub her soar knees and noticed the marks of sand and earth that crawled up her legs and back down to her ankles and feet. Deciding that she needed to cleanse herself she walked toward the ocean again slowly. The small waves made their way up her ankles, then her calves, knees, all the way up to her waist before she stopped walking toward the abyss of endless water. It was cold yet refreshing. She began to cup her hands in an attempt to wash her face and arms and chest. For a moment there was a feeling of rebirth, but the strange thing about it was the fact that this feeling of rebirth was familiar to her in some distant way. Again she was at a loss as she tried to regain the memory which refused to surface itself.
This had become a painful ugly struggle within these first few moments of the conscious world. Where had she been? Where had she come from? So many unanswered questions began to torment her. She paused in her bath and tried to tune into these images that kept flashing back into her mind in and out back and forth. It was as if she had gone to Tartarus and back. The feeling was an almost overwhelming experience. And then suddenly a low voice rang inside her mind. It kept repeating “I forgive you mother.” This voice and this phrase kept echoing inside her mind.
There was a sort of pain that came with it. This pain was like fire building up inside the young distraught woman as she froze in the ocean. She wanted so desperately to remember, but the more she focused the harder it became. Pain burned her heart from the inside out as this low voice kept repeating…”I forgive you mother…I forgive you mother…I forgive you mother.” It was a strange uncanny connection of some sort. The young girl couldn’t identify what it was or who was saying it. It just echoed painfully in the depths of her soul. She began breathing heavily. Her heart rate was racing. The voice became louder and stronger. “I forgive you mother…I forgive you mother.” It was as if the voice were now coming from the sound of the ocean itself. It began as a low whisper and then developed into a loud crash. The young woman who was being tormented by it suddenly covered her ears in an attempt to seal off the sound of it. She was unsuccessful as it continued to torment her. The voice began to speak more quickly and it became even more powerful. “I forgive you mother….I forgive you mother!” It growled almost with a vengeance. The young blond woman could no longer bear the sound of this voice. She let out a loud scream of despair. Shouting…”Nooooooooooooooo!”
The young woman struggled to remove herself from this ocean which was seemingly engulfing her with the voice and the pain. As she struggled to break free the undertow became stronger. And with that came the sound of yet another voice that was seemingly familiar. As one voice continued it’s chant “I forgive you mother…” another voice of evil laughter echoed in through the skies and through the clouds. Lightening strikes filled the air as the thunder crashes had shaped themselves into evil laughter. The ocean triumphed over the young blonde woman as it pulled her into its black abyss. She struggled to break free of its hold as the laughter echoed in her ears and the whispers swept through her heart.
Part of her wanted to mourn and feel shame for the thing she had done, but another part of her struggled with the will to survive against the many faces of evil. They were the very faces that she had always fought against. The faces that she had been determined to defeat for the cause of the greater good. Her struggle with the undertow, and the waves of the mighty ocean seemingly lasted for an eternity until finally the young woman could no longer fight it. Her will had been worn beyond repair. The fire in her heart and the desire to be the ultimate symbol of good had lost to the face of evil. It had broken her down to her weakest thread of fate.
She was now in and out of consciousness once again as her lungs had been stuffed once more with the heavy salty water of the sea. And then as her soul began to say its final good-bye a radiant light appeared under the black endless restraining waters. The young woman held her will for just a moment for a pang of curiosity. A reflection appeared before her illuminated in brilliant light. It was almost comforting. The being that had appeared before her began to speak to her.
“I release you mother. I release you from your death. You sacrificed yourself in order to save the one you loved. I can’t punish you for that.” The face that appeared and spoke to the young blonde was soft with its words yet harsh with its tone. There was an eerie feeling which swept through the young blonde’s body. Suddenly she felt as if she were being thrust into a deep dark spiral. Was this the path to Tartarus? The young woman wanted to claw and scratch her way to the surface of this never ending spin. But she could not. She felt alone as the reflection disintegrated into the blackness which surrounded her.
In the next moment the young woman raised up from the grainy sands of the beach as her eyes flew open. She was breathing so hard it was as if she’d run a marathon. Her chest was frantically rising and falling. She was holding herself up with her elbows on the sands of the beach. The ocean was calm again. The young woman looked frantically about as if she were going to see someone or something standing before her handing her a warrant of death, but there was no one. Only the ocean and its crashing waves spoke to her with their calming effect on the soul. The young woman’s clothes were damp as they clung themselves to her salty skin. She was now wearing damp water filled boots. They were brown and laced up to the calves.
Lying next to the young woman was a staff. It was seemingly the only thing that was familiar to her up until this point. She was beginning to have more flashes of the memory. People of the past and people of the present were known yet unknown. She was unable to piece anything together. The woman decided that she must leave the beach. Maybe if she just walked a little ways she would find that familiar place. Or maybe she would run into that person that she longed to find, but couldn’t see in her mind.
She struggled to her feet. There was a feeling of physical weakness. Grabbing the staff she helped herself up and stood for a moment gazing over the scene. There were beautiful mountain ranges surrounding her on all sides except for out into the ocean. The cool breeze was blowing into her face off of the water as her loose strands of hair fell victim to it. She took a deep breath just to be sure that everything was in working order and to see that all of the salt water had cleared itself from her lungs. This experience reminded her of a seemingly distant memory of a time that she had survived an over turned ship during a tsunami. But that was all that she could remember about it. The faces of those who were with her during the ordeal were of a blur at best.
She squinted her eyes as if she could almost see them before her, but to no avail. After several moments of standing on the beach just out of reach of the incoming tide she decided to walk toward the mountain ranges. Maybe there would be a village there somewhere. She didn’t know, but the weather was starting to get a bit chilly and she knew that she had to find some food. Her body was signaling to her that it was in need of nourishment. Slowly she turned away from her mysterious ocean unaware of why she had washed up onto the beach. As she began to walk toward the thick greenery she wondered if maybe her vision of the tsunami was the reason for her being there. But then she kept wondering about the fire visions. Why did she keep seeing fire in her mind?
She did not know. After several moments of walking along the beach away from the ocean toward the mountains a feeling of loneliness swept over her. It was a painful loneliness as if someone should be there with her by her side. She was not accustomed to walking alone. She felt this strongly as she walked. It was as if there should be a companion with her. Why did her companion leave her? She did not know. The young woman wanted to cry as her heart wept on the inside with a deep sense of loss. Small tears began to well up in her eyes as darkness was falling upon the land. The winds were picking up and her arms developed goose bumps at this sensation.
Though she was not in Lemuria it felt that way to her. It was as if she were a child lost without her mother. She was desperate for something familiar. The pangs of loneliness became more intense as the darkness engulfed the land. By now she had reached the trees and was walking into the forest. She knew that she needed to find a warm place to camp, but nothing was familiar about this territory. It seemed the young girl walked for hours. Her feet began to get sore inside of her tightly laced boots. Weakness began to take control of her body as her feet and arms began to go numb from the cold.
The young girl cried as she struggled to continue her lonely walk through the dark woods. Finally her knees gave way to fatigue as she fell to the ground. There was almost no will left inside of her. This once young, vibrant, adventurous girl had fallen victim to something beyond her imagination. As she lied on the cold ground gazing into the starry night sky she felt lost in the abyss of life. After several moments of lying there she had made up her mind that it was time to give up. It was time to curl up and die. May the fates cut her life thread for there was not color left in it. Once again the young woman fell in and out of consciousness. Visions kept filling her mind good, bad, beautiful, and ugly they created uncertain feelings within. This went on for a hours until finally everything faded into total blackness.
In the next conscious moment the blackness faded into a bright white. The white then slowly faded into life once again. Her eyes were opening themselves slowly as if they had been sealed shut for centuries. There was someone standing over her. The young girl was lying in a soft bed. She could feel that it was a soft feather bed. Although her eyes had not fully focused she began to raise up onto her elbows once again. A voice came from the face that was slowly coming into focus. The young girl was squinting her brilliant blue green eyes trying desperately to see something familiar in the face. “Now lie down dear. You shouldn’t be sitting up.” This was the first human contact that she could recall for a long time. It felt comforting, but as the face focused into a woman’s unknown identity her heart sank once again. The young girl sighed and went to drop back down, but the woman at her beside wouldn’t allow her to drop down. She gingerly laid the young girl’s head back down onto the pillow softly. And then she smiled and said, “I thought you’d never wake up. It was so sad to see such a young little thing like you so close to death. Though I see it everyday. I prayed for you.” Then the woman patted the young girl on the forehead with a smile.
This woman was an older woman who seemed experienced at caregiving. The blonde was intrigued for a moment. Her caregiver felt very motherly to her. The blonde was compelled to speak. She struggled for a moment as if her voice were horse, but then it broke through. “Where am I?” The older woman who had been ready to move onto the next victim of illness turned back to the blonde. She chuckled, “I thought you’d never speak.” And then a brief smile spread across her face as she spoke. “You’re in a hospice dear.” The blonde looked puzzled and then repeated the statement in a questioning manner…”I’m in a hospice?” The older woman tried to continue this breakthrough in conversation with this young girl who had been silent for days. “What’s your name?”
The blonde rubbed her head as if she were going to answer quickly and with confidence. Her mouth opened as if she were about to reveal the secret to the mystery of her own identity, but then nothing came out. And she felt almost panicked inside. She responded as if speaking only to herself and no one else. “I don’t…know.” There was silence between the two women for a moment. “In fact, I don’t know anything about myself. I don’t know who I am, where I’m from, who I know, who I don’t know, and why I’m here.” The old woman could feel the discontent within the blonde’s frantic voice. She softly spoke in an attempt to calm the unfortunate creature. “It’s alright dear. A lot of us get this sort of illness. I’m certain it will all come back to you in time.” The woman was about to move on once again when the blonde rose up sharply and grabbed her arm in desperation.
“You have to help me! You must know something! How I got here. Was anyone with me? Who brought me in? Who found me? Where? When?” The blonde was frantic and quick to speak. The woman tried to think of something to calm her. She could see the young girl’s thirst for information, but she had little to offer. The old woman wished that she had more, but the only thing she could offer the girl was the staff. “Well…the only thing I can tell you is that when you were brought in you had a staff.” The girl quickly rose to her feet. Her caregiver was astonished at this quick movement from a seemingly lifeless creature at first. “Yes! My staff!” The young girl turned to the old woman and asked, “Where is it?”
The old woman motioned for one of the young priests who had been standing nearby. A young man quickly appeared before the girl producing her staff. It looked so beautiful yet it was only a piece of wood with several tribal symbols and decorations. The young girl took the staff in her hand and looked it over as if it were the first time she’d seen it. She carefully ran her hand over the symbols and the decorations that the staff contained. Her hope was to find something that would jar her memory open. The old woman and the young priest stood before the blonde as she began to slowly pace before them twirling the staff.
This familiar object seemingly began to guide the young girl into slow controlled battle moves. They were forms of a sort and she performed them with grace and experience. The old woman began to smile as the young priest stood quiet and in awe of this young thing that didn’t appear to be a warrior yet knew how to move like one. “I certainly hope dear that you find your identity soon.” The blonde stopped in mid swing of the staff and stared in the direction of her caregiver. “What did you say?” It was as if the blonde had been offended and the caregiver didn’t know how to respond to the delicate mind state of her patient.
“I just hope that you will find yourself soon.” The blonde stepped up closer and snatched a word from the previous statement. “Hope! Why does that word seem so important to me?” That puzzled look of intrigue began to spread across the blonde’s face once again as she dropped the staff down to her side and thought about that word. She walked back over to the bed and dropped down onto it leaning up against the staff wracking her mind in an attempt to solve the mystery at hand. As she did this the older woman exchanged a whisper and a glance with the young priest and then she went onto visit with her next patient.
The priest approached the blonde slowly. He was careful knowing how fragile her mind was. He knelt down beside her leaning against her staff and he spoke softly. “I brought you in.” It was as if she were listening, but still clinging to her thoughts. He continued. “You see it was like this. I was walking through the forest after being down by the beach. I was fishing.” It was as if he were nervous and didn’t quite know what to do to get a conversation going. He was fumbling through his mind trying to entertain this young girl who was very attractive to him. The caregiver had given him what seemed to be such a large responsibility. He didn’t want to make a mistake. While thinking of this the young girl clung onto the word “fishing” as she repeated it back to herself wondering why it seemed important. The young boy seized the opportunity to captivate her and continued.
“I just happened to notice you lying there next to a huge bolder. You looked like you had been there for quite a while.” He stopped once again disappointed that he was receiving no response from this patient for the girl was still stuck on “fishing.” The boy priest decided to change the subject in an attempt to get the girl’s attention. “You know this staff looks like an Amazon staff. Do you think maybe you could be an Amazon? Not that you look like one, but….” Suddenly she snapped out of her thought and looked him dead in the eye and said…”yes…that’s right…I think I am an Amazon.”
She began to whisper to him as if it were a secret. “I think that maybe I am even an Amazon Queen.” The priest began to chuckle a bit at the thought that this young girl could possibly hold the Queenhood of any Amazon tribe for the legends he had heard spoke of Amazons as tall while this young girl was rather short. She was offended by this and shot up to her feet and began to fall into her standard sarcastic response. “You don’t think I could be the Queen of the Amazons do you?” The boy rose to his feet to feel equal to her and responded lightly. “It’s just that you don’t seem like Queen material.” She looked at him and inquired…”Well what is “Queen material?”” He fumbled for an answer realizing that he had offended the young girl. What the boy didn’t realize was that a slight grin of interest had spread across her face.
He continued on with his explanation. “Well it’s just that you looked more like a bard to me, or a village girl maybe.” She thought about these scenarios. They both seemed likely, but so did being the Queen of the Amazons. She stared at her staff again. The priest felt a moment of control in the conversation once again and decided that he had better make a suggestion. “If you really feel that you are connected to the Amazons maybe you should go and find them. Maybe if they know you they can help you.” The young blonde seemed excited about this possibility. “Do you know where I can find the Amazons?”
The priest’s heart sank into his stomach when he realized that he couldn’t offer her any insight on the location of the Amazons. He knew little about them. He had only heard of their legends. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.” He bowed his head down disappointed in himself for not having all of the answers. The blonde realized his shame and she hugged him in an attempt to comfort his soul. “It’s okay. How can I expect you to know where to find the Amazons when I don’t even know who I am.” There was a moment of silence and then she separated from him and asked curiously…”What’s your name?” He looked up and said “Dionysus.” She smiled brightly at him. And then suddenly she reached out her hand instinctively to shake his and said, “My name is Gabrielle.” The moment of joy was interrupted by the unexpected exchange. A look of shock spread across the blonde’s face as if someone else had just said that.
She released her hand from his and asked, “Did I just say my name was Gabrielle?” He smiled back at her and responded, “Yes I think that was what you said. Are you sure that is your name?” She turned away from him for a moment and then back to face him. “No…I’m not certain. Yet it seemed so natural to say that.” The boy looked at the girl with a glimmer of hope for her. And then he asked. “So what should I call you? Should I call you Gabrielle?” The blonde thought about it for a moment and then a wave of excitement swept over her. “Wait! Maybe the staff has my name on it.” She feverishly began to look at its details closely to see if there were any inscriptions on it. On the tip of the staff a symbol was placed there, but there were no names. She sighed after consulting the staff for information.
The boy thought quickly again and responded “Well if Gabrielle is your real name then I think maybe you were a storyteller of some sort.” He was fumbling to hold her attention as she thought again about his latest suggestion. Then she plopped back down onto the bed and said, “It’s no use. I don’t think I’ll ever know who I am.” The boy priest was saddened for a moment at the girl’s disappointment. “Maybe you are just pushing yourself too hard Gabrielle. I’m certain you’ll remember. These things just take a little time you know.” He sat down next to the young girl and she leaned in close to him seeking comfort from the young boy.
He gave his comforting heart to her, but after several moments she rose again inquiring more of the boy priest. “What makes you so certain that I am a bard?” The boy looked astonished for a moment unexpecting of this sudden interest in his latest suggestion. “Well I just know of this great bard they call Gabrielle. She is from the village of Podedia and she travels with the one they call Xena the Warrior Princess.” The boy was delighted as he thought of the many stories he had heard that had begun with this great bard’s quill. He continued…”It is said that she writes of her travels and adventures with Xena. Many sick or wounded that have come through have shared these great stories with me. I only wish that I could read them from the scrolls that have given them life.”
This girl was very interested in the priest’s insight. In fact, she was very impressed that he followed great legends so closely. This made the boy seem very attractive to her. As if they had something in common yet she really didn’t know why. After he spoke of his knowledge of this bard from Podedia she had almost forgotten about what it was that she had set out to accomplish in the first place. She was so fascinated by this that she began to ask him to share the stories that he’d heard from others. And so he did. For many suns and many moons this boy priest stayed by the young girl’s side as he nursed her back to physical health.
For weeks this went on until finally the girl awoke from an eerie dream to find herself desiring to write her own story. So she immediately asked the boy priest for some fresh scrolls and a quill. The boy brought these small requests to her and she immediately began to work the magic. As she wrote passion flowed through her soul into her fingers onto the parchment. It was as if she had rediscovered a lost art. The boy stood back in the shadows as he watched her with great interest. Maybe he had been right. Maybe she was the bard Gabrielle of Podedia. Indeed she did look like the one people had described.
For days the girl wrote feverishly upon her scrolls as the priest watched with great interest. He was certain that this was the great Bard, but what had happened to her? How had she been separated from her companion the great Warrior Princess? It seemed almost tragic. Had the Warrior Princess been slain? And then after the fourth day of feverish writing the girl looked up from her work dropping the quill on the floor. There were tears streaming down her fair cheeks. The boy priest rushed over to comfort her. She stared off into an unknown abyss. After several moments of silence she turned to him sadly and said, “I am Gabrielle. I am the Bard of Podedia. Queen of the Amazons, the best friend of Xena, and the mother of Hope.”
The priest did not know what to say. He did not know how to comfort her. She seemed to suffer so greatly and he knew that there was nothing to be done. Gabrielle spoke softly…”Thank you Dionysus.” She placed her hand gently upon his shoulder as he knelt by the bedside. She smiled not with joy, but with appreciation for she knew that if he had not told her all of the stories that she had written she would not have been able to find home. And though home was not a place the bard Gabrielle knew just where she was to find it.
