Chapter 8: The Colour of Desire
Gabrielle leaned heavily on Shibo, bracing herself on him with one hand, her other skimming the cave walls. Together they stumbled towards the entrance, and Gabrielle was sure they looked like a drunken couple. She certainly felt hammered; he had been subdued. The young man’s grip was strong under her upper arm; it had to be, for it was quite likely the only thing keeping her upright.
"You sure you're not trying to kill me?" she panted.
"This will make you feel better," he said evenly.
"Liar," she gritted out, but kept going, feeling the sweat drip down her back. Her legs trembled underneath her. She felt as unsteady as a newborn kitten, but was nowhere near as cute, stinking as she did, pale as she was. Two days down and she was still out for the count. Which she couldn't afford. Enough time had been wasted already.
She blinked heavily as they came into the sun, drawing her free hand up to shade her eyes. A quick look around confirmed that they hadn’t moved very far. The surrounding mountain peaks seemed familiar. She felt the cool tang of glacier chill in the air, or perhaps that was only yet another sign of her frailty.
Shibo led her to a large tree and settled her at its base, taking all the extra furs that he'd been carrying and wrapping them around her. She felt swaddled, but was glad for the warmth. Being outside was probably good for her, but the chill was just as likely to do her damage. The sun threw dapples onto the furs through the branches of the tree, but at least she didn’t have to squint anymore.
"You are sure you will be all right alone?" Shibo asked dubiously. "I can stay."
"I’ll be fine," she assured him, happy now that the world wasn't spinning around quite so madly. "You said yourself that with the smell of the Dragon all around here, nothing’s going to dare come within spitting distance of the cave."
"Except the Dragon."
"And I have nothing to fear from her." Gabrielle watched the doubt cross over his face, but couldn't be angry at him for giving in to the future that loomed over them. She believed, despite the legends, despite his acceptance. She would not be so quick to let go of her faith in her friend. And she would never let go of that love.
That would be enough; that should be enough. "The Heart is still alive, Shibo."
"So it was, the last time we saw the Dragon." He shrugged, not accepting her comfort. She’d become used to it; he was suffering just as much as she.
"If you are sure?" At her nod, he adjusted his bow more comfortably across his back and nodded to her. "I shall return soon. If you need me, yell." He paused. "Even if you merely want to talk, and tell yourself you will feel foolish afterward."
She flushed, but it wasn’t due to the sun or her weakness. Damn, now she saw Xena’s hand in everything he did, every move he made. "Don’t worry. I will."
"Good." One last check of his quiver and he was gone, fording his way through the brush and into the forest. She watched the bobbing of his bow and wished she could see him in action. His movement, his form, was undoubtedly beautiful, and though she had rejected violence, she could still appreciate the physical dedication that the followers of the warrior arts assumed. Especially the bow, which she had not learned that much of; Xena’s chakram had served that function easily. While Harikuyo had still carried the chakram, strapped across her back in a special scabbard underneath her sword, her student had worn the bow in the traditional manner, and carried his thinner sword in a scabbard at his side. Shibo had told her that the long bow was the traditional weapon of the Temple warriors. As Harikuyo’s student, he had learned more of the sword, but he still bore the other, as it came in useful for hunting and other, interestingly mundane chores.
Gabrielle smiled as she remembered some of the uses that Xena’s chakram had endured. Back-scratcher, fish-gutter, hat band. It had even been Xena’s chakram that had cut her hair, so long ago . . ..
She must have dozed off then, for the next thing she knew, she was very warm, almost stifling so. She opened her eyes and gasped.
:You’re awake.:
"Could you not do that? I’m going to die of fright!" She pushed the heavy blankets off herself and glared at the Dragon that lay patiently next to her. No, she corrected herself, it circled her, for she was completely surrounded. The Dragon had simply wrapped its length around the tree, leaving only a little room for Gabrielle.
Trapped?
A quick look at the Dragon’s chest confirmed that the Heart was still flickering. Faintly so, and in the sun, Gabrielle could see the threads of grey that had begun to pierce the red colour.
:There are worse ways to die,: the Dragon said, and perhaps it was only in Gabrielle’s mind that the voice echoed drily.
"I know. I’ve explored a few of them." Gods, she was hot. Even kicking off the blankets hadn’t seemed to work. She looked up and checked the sun, which was somewhat lower in the sky.
:He has been gone some time.:
"Is he all right?" She had to keep the Dragon talking. She had to somehow get it to not destroy the world. No, not an impossible task. Hercules, she thought sourly, did nothing special with the Aegean stables, at least not compared to this.
:He is fine.:
The heat was coming from the Dragon, Gabrielle decided, and held out a cautious hand, ready to snatch it back should the Dragon take offence.
Nothing. She held her hand closer, almost touching the scales. They were a pearly silver-grey now, she noticed, and yes, they were radiating intense heat. It was proving uncomfortable to hold her hand close too long, so she withdrew.
:You were cold, when I arrived.:
"Well, you took care of that." She blinked. Had it been her imagination, or had the heat suddenly been turned down? She held her hand out again. No, she was correct; the scales didn’t radiate heat any more. She didn’t dare touch them, having already learned her lesson, but she couldn’t feel a thing anymore, and the Dragon was still here. "Why are you bothering?"
The Dragon seemed to ripple in her sight, and in a moment, Gabrielle felt a distinct mental shift. That was the Dragon’s version of a shrug, she realised. :I do not know.:
"You tried to kill me, earlier." In moving, the Dragon had turned its chest more towards her, and Gabrielle had a better view of the Heart. Yes, there was a distinct grey hue to the great jewel. She looked again. Something in the pattern of the scales around the Heart . . . yes, they did remind her of something. The chakram. The scales were growing in a similar pattern. She shuddered.
:I did not try to kill you. Had I tried, you would have died in that moment.:
"Shibo says you took off first." She tried not to feel anger about it, though some came through her voice. Perhaps that was good. It would realise she had feelings. Maybe it would even care? "Doesn't sound to me like you were in a hurry to save me."
The Dragon watched her, and she felt amusement from it. :I came back to help your need, did I not? As I fulfilled mine. I was . . . I needed to fly again.:
"So how long’s it been since you've been here?"
:Thousands of years.:
She looked around. Keep it talking. The more it did, the more she learned about it. "I guess a lot has changed, huh?"
:Many more humans, yes.: The equivalent of the shrug, again. :It makes little difference.:
"To?"
:Me.:
Something about the way the Dragon said that didn’t make Gabrielle feel good. "And what are your plans?"
:It is not a plan. It will be.: The Dragon yawned, and the bard was treated to a much-too-close view of curved, wicked fangs longer than her arm. She turned away.
"You’re supposed to be a weapon, not a monster."
:Only when I am contained. When I am free, I am everything.:
"You’re not me."
:You do not matter.:
"So why are you even bothering to save me?"
The Dragon paused for a moment. :Because you are the colour of the much-wanted thing.:
"I don’t understand."
:You are colour in a world of grey.: The Dragon laid her head on her two front legs, the talons stretching to within a hand’s-reach of Gabrielle’s sandalled foot, and her tongue flicked out, barely touching the bard’s toes. :Thus you are every colour in the world. I . . . remember colour.:
"You can’t see in colour?" Gabrielle felt a flash of pity. It would be like being half-blind, especially if you could remember what you’d had . . .. The pain stabbed at her again, and she struggled not to lose herself in it. "I’m sorry."
:Do not feel sorry for me.: The mental tone was matter-of-fact.
"Why not?"
:Because such feelings are irrelevant to me.:
Gabrielle almost smiled. If the Dragon sought to hurt her with that, it was sadly mistaken. "Now you sound like Harikuyo."
:Harikuyo?:
"You know? The person that you were."
:She who Called me.: The eyes half-lidded, blue as the sky. :I do not remember her.:
"You said her name, earlier. In the cave."
:A stray fragment of memory. Now obviously gone. That will happen as I remember all I am and forget what was.:
Gabrielle turned away, feeling the sharp pang of loss.
The Dragon seemed surprised. :Do not grieve for her, Gabrielle. She gave up everything to me before I came. Willingly. I did not kill her.:
"It’s not a lot of comfort." Gabrielle took a deep breath. Keep the Dragon talking. Keep trying to understand it, because when you understood it, you loved it. And when you loved it, you had a certain power over it. "Especially when I think about the fact that you’re probably going to kill me, too."
:Possibly. Not probably.: The Dragon stretched its neck, the crest spines tinkling against another with the sound of high, clear bells. :It is our nature to kill. You, however, are different. You may yet live to see the world that I create.:
She remembered the first creature, and shuddered. "I take it there are other dragons?"
:Of course.:
Gabrielle looked around her, feeling as though at any moment, the ground could split and creatures would swarm out of the rent.
:They will not come until I call,: the Dragon assured her.
"Are you their leader?"
:I am their master.:
She weighed the risks, then decided to take the plunge. "Don’t take this as a criticism or suggestion or anything, but why haven't you called them already?"
Again the Dragon paused. :Desire did not call me, but need. And . . . there is still need.:
Gabrielle couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. "Oh, I don’t know. I’d say that no one’s going to be able to get their hands on the Talonsword now."
The Dragon’s glittering eyes swung around to stare at her. :No.:
A weak spot? But how could that be, for the Talonsword was gone, incorporated into the Dragon itself? The Heart was still alight. Gabrielle tried not to stare; that would be obvious.
:The army must be stopped.:
"But isn’t it kind of irrelevant now?" She threw its own word back at it. "I mean, what do you care?"
The Dragon paused before answering. :I can not allow him to lay waste to what is mine.:
Gabrielle stared at the Dragon, feeling horror and . . . a certain fatalism. Perhaps this was the way out, she thought. Was it so bad? The Dragon obviously had some of Xena in her—Gabrielle corrected herself, Harikuyo—and the sacrifice had obviously not been in vain. The Dragon was not the creature of legends. It was the greatest weapon in the world, yes, but with no one wielding it, where was the evil?
How could it be any worse than Dimenor, or Caesar, or any of the multitudes of warlords who would try, again and again, to conquer the world, and in their attempts kill the innocent and unwary? If the Dragon ruled the world, that would never happen again. She knew the Dragon would never allow it.
:You begin to understand. Soon you will accept.:
Gabrielle turned away and closed her eyes, dizzy.
:How can you feel sad, when the world has a chance at peace? For I am strong enough to give it that.:
"I know," she murmured. But here was her strength, for it was still speaking to her.
And perhaps it could be convinced.
:And yet you remain sad.:
"Yeah." She gathered up the furs and once again covered herself. "Because no matter what happens, I still lost my friend."
:She is already gone, Gabrielle.: The tentacles swirled and wrapped around one another. :Did she mean so much to you, then?:
"She meant everything," Gabrielle said softly. "Even when I didn’t realise it. She was always in my mental map of the world. As long as I knew she was out there, somewhere, it was okay for me to keep going. I could still believe . . . in love." She shook her head, remembering that painful conversation with Harikuyo. "Xena’s strength lay in how much she loved. How honestly, and fiercely. When she chose to love you, you were burned by the fire in her heart."
:Desire destroys, Gabrielle,: and the Dragon’s voice was soft. :How you feel now, all the pain and suffering you undergo, is because you loved.:
She smiled, a bittersweet taste in her mouth. "No," she corrected the creature, "I feel this way because I . . . didn’t." She felt the heavy truth settle around her. "I loved her, all right, but like I love everyone else. Or rather, I put her in with everyone else, which she didn’t deserve. She should have had everything she asked of me, and more. Because I could have given more. In the end, I could have given more." No, she thought, she should have taken more.
Oh, gods, she understood.
That’s what Harikuyo had meant. It wasn’t that Gabrielle hadn’t loved Xena enough, it had been that she hadn’t loved Xena enough to bring her along.
She’d just let her walk off. She’d given all her love to Xena, and in the end, she’d also given the warrior up.
:I do not understand this love.:
Neither had she, until this moment, and though she spoke to try and convince the Dragon, she meant every word. In a strange kind of way, it was almost like speaking to Xena, or Harikuyo. The Dragon waited for her to speak with that same watchful air.
"It’s the same kind of love Harikuyo felt for Edo, that Xena felt for me, once, at least. The kind where you would give up almost anything for them. Even your own love. But not . . . the person herself." Oh, gods. Comprehension flowed through her, a warm weight that flooded her limbs and dragged at her spirit. There was a curious, all-encompassing sense of relief as well. She understood, but that knowledge did not, despite her fears to the contrary, contradict all she had held dear. Instead of tearing at the basic elements of her belief, it broadened her horizons and enriched her view of the world. Gabrielle suddenly felt as though she saw with double vision, the images fitting neatly over one another. Here was what she believed, and there was what could be, and the two dovetailed perfectly with her as the nexus.
She laughed sadly at herself. You were right, damn you. Even when you had changed so much that I didn't recognise you, you saw right through to me. I was the person I wanted to be, but not the person I could be.
:I do not understand love.:
"Harikuyo told me that true love is almost selfish, in its way. I guess what she was trying to tell me was that when you love someone that much, you wouldn’t walk away, like I did before. Because no matter what else you wanted, that love was so important to you that you couldn’t live without it." She gulped. "I always knew I loved her, but I thought it was something that lived in its own right. I didn’t realise that I needed to demand things of it. I needed . . . to claim her. I was so selfless that when I left, I didn’t ask her to go with me. I didn’t take her." Maybe that’s why it hurts now, she thought. Maybe I just remembered how it feels to love with my heart and soul, and not just my mind, like Eli taught me. He showed me how to spread my consciousness to love everyone, but now I find the darkness of my self, the passion that frightened me because it wanted her all along, because it would fight for her. When I was afraid of my own darkness, when I saw that, I ran away. And now that I've understood that darkness within, I can’t live without her.
The Dragon half-rose, tail lashing at the ground, wing-tips digging into the earth. The Heart flickered at a rapid beat, the red glowing softly. :No.:
She was nearly shaken out of the blanket. "What?"
:You will not kill yourself.:
"What would you do if I tried?" she snapped. "Kill me?"
A scaly foot slammed down.
Gabrielle looked carefully through her lashes, almost afraid of what she’d see, sure that any moment now the pain would shoot up and burn her—
A talon pierced her sandal, edging just between her first two toes. The smooth cold curves touched her skin on either side, and the point itself dug through the hard leather and into the ground beneath, pinning her foot to the spot. Despite that, most of the talon was above-ground; the Dragon had exerted great control in not crushing her foot with its own. The bard looked up, shaken, to see the Dragon staring at her with solid blue eyes.
:Do not press me, Gabrielle,: it warned. :Even though you gain colour, I may only be pushed so far.:
Gabrielle stared back at it. "That’s right," she whispered, "feel. Feel something, and I guarantee you that it’s nothing, compared to my loss. Maybe when you kill me, you’ll understand." Gods, now she felt the pain cascading through her, and she allowed it, hoping that the Dragon could share. Xena, Harikuyo . . . Gabrielle had been given two chances, and lost them both.
But she would remind the Dragon, every time she could, of what it had been capable of. Of who it had been.
The tail twitched. :I will allow it to come to that,: the Dragon replied, and turned and left.
Shibo paused as he saw the streak of iridescent colour burst into the evening sky. The Dragon had leapt upwards, and as he watched, reached the apogee of its jump. For a moment it seemed to hang in the blue expanse, perfectly still. He was not aware that he held his breath, waiting for the imminent fall.
Wings suddenly ripped out, cupped the air, and the Dragon spiralled upwards, twisting and winking through the sky until it vanished in the clouds.
Shibo could not help but smile at the beauty and precision of the feat. He should not have been surprised. Harikuyo-san had been able to do much the same: impress him with her movements, her skills, even as a human. It was little wonder that as the Dragon, she took his breath away.
He was glad that those in the Temple would consider Mu Harikuyo a different being than the Dragon. No matter what the future held, Harikuyo-san would hold a revered place in their hearts, and offerings would be burned to the gods in her memory. He would make certain of that.
"You look even more serious than usual," Gabrielle remarked as he came near. She looked much better, he noted, and even had some colour in her face. Her hair was touseled as though she’d just woken.
"I was thinking of Harikyo-san." He sat down beside the bard and began to efficiently skin the two rabbits he had caught, throwing the offal to one side for later disposal. It was an automatic job, something to take his mind from the pain of his words.
"She went thataway." Gabrielle pointed upwards.
"I saw where the Dragon went," he replied. "It came to visit, I gather."
"The Heart is still beating."
"I know. However, upon reflection, I believe my honoured sensei is truly dead." His hands didn't falter in their task. Gabrielle suspected, but it was time he said it aloud. "I believe it was always meant to be that way." Harikuyo-san had certainly prepared him for what he had thought was only a mere possibility, by discussing the ramifications of such an army gathered in the very centre of the known world. They had spoken in theory, it seemed, for he had always been insulated in the knowledge that Edo would prove too difficult to conquer. Over the past two days, however, Shibo had come to understand that his sensei would never have been content with saving only Edo from the ravages of Dimenor. How shortsighted of him! Harikuyo-san would have done her best to save the world from the possibility of the Dragon falling into evil hands, and she had done the thing most likely to keep it from that fate. She had sacrificed herself.
"What do you mean? Like . . . suicide? Or something that she planned?"
He was reminded of their first meeting, in that Greek tavern. "When I first met you, and understood your place in her past, I thought I had finally understood the meaning of her name. Now, I must again revise my opinion." He smiled at a fleeting memory, taking the solace that he could, though his heart ached to cry like the child he still felt himself to be. "I should have asked her, when I had the chance, but I was always assumed that I would be more amused by my own thoughts than by the truth."
"What are you talking about? What is her name?"
"Mu Harikyo. It is not a traditional name."
Gabrielle's eyebrows rose. "And I was supposed to know that how?"
"Forgive me." He bowed, feeling yet another burden added to the growing number of his wrongs. His sensei had, perhaps, asked the wrong person to accompany her, for how many times he had not done all he could or had not been aware of the thoughts of others? "I do not know which is worse, my never asking her when I had the chance, or my disregard for your ignorance."
"We can wallow in guilt later."
Her voice was sharp, and he understood that she was not angry towards him, but rather eager to hear what he had to say. Finished with his messy task of cleaning their dinner, he sat back, wiping his hands on the grass, which was gathering dew from the dusk. "Mu is our word for a concept." He picked up a small stick and scratched a circle in the ground, scoring the turf. "This is how we best explain mu. It is everything and nothing."
"The circle?"
"It is not merely a circle. Within, it holds nothing that may be defined, and yet, if it cannot be defined, then it may be everything."
She studied it with a serious expression. "Go on."
"The word harikuyo . . .." He hesitated, turning his thoughts around, trying to interpret correctly. "The most correct translation is 'the shrine of broken tools'." He hoped the last word was acceptable; he couldn't remember the correct word. "It is where you keep those things which have served you well, but may no longer be used for their original purpose." He hoped he wasn't bungling the intention of the word. It was a beautiful one, in his language, beautiful and reverential and spiritual.
"That was her name?"
"Yes. I must now understand that I assumed that her name had been given to her by the Elders of the Temple. In looking at the events of the past few days, I believe that she took on the name herself. For why else would the woman known as Xena have to die, unless she would never have been able to Call the Dragon?"
Gabrielle's grief was written plainly on her face. "You mean . . . the broken thing that she was named after . . . the broken thing was herself?"
He nodded. "I believe that she put aside the self known as Xena when she came to the Temple, for the purpose of that woman was no longer needed. Harikuyo-san was a kikokushijo, a foreign-born child of Edo, with another fate in this lifetime. The separation was made so that she would not grieve for what was lost, and in doing so, fail, but rather she would fulfill the function that only she could do."
"And the mu?"
"An omen, of things to come. Of what she would be." He wondered how she had known. Had she had the Sight? Had the gods told her, had she heard her future in the winds through the cherry blossoms, or seen it in the waves that marred the calm surface of water? How could it be that he had never known, never seen the signs? "Gabrielle, in the time that you knew her, was the warrior Xena ever a fortune-teller? Could she see into the future?"
Gabrielle suddenly flushed pale. "She . . . saw visions, sometimes." Her voice was harsh, the words uttered stiffly. "She knew things about ou—her future."
He nodded to himself. That would explain much. For a moment he wished that fate had been kinder, that things had been different. It was obvious that he still had much to learn, and his sensei could have taught him much more, things other than the warrior arts learned at the Temple.
Ah. Knowledge blossomed as gently as a flower, and filled him with a warmth as gentle as the evening sun. That was her last lesson. Given to him after her passing, to humble him into returning as a man, not a warrior. He had always assumed that her purpose in choosing him had been to teach him about the world. Now he understood that she had sought to teach him about himself.
He could hear her voice, even now, in one of those moments where she said something so strange, and yet so true. You can take the boy out of Edo, but you cannot take Edo out of the man.
Arigato, Harikuyo-san. Domo arigato. He closed his eyes and made the tiniest bow. Thank you so very much, Sensei.
I wish you were still here.