by
Ambyrhawke Shadowsinger
Copyright © January 1, 2001 Ambyrhawke Shadowsinger
All Rights Reserved
Under a blanket of stars, the only mortal light for leagues was that of a single campfire. Among the sounds of
crickets a woman's voice rose and fell like the music of a brook. With voice and tale, she captured the full
attention of her friend.
"...But she didn't want the attentions of the lusty, drunken god, so she called out to Artemis to save her. Artemis
heard the maiden and was determined to help. She turned the woman into a tall, shining pillar of the clearest
crystal ever seen.
"When the god caught up to the maiden, he wrapped his arms about the stone and fell asleep. Awakening from
his drunken stupor, he looked up at the pillar. His heart cried out in remorse for what his lust had done to the
woman. To him, her beauty had been beyond compare.
"Gazing at the crystal, Dionysus decided it was far too pale to do justice to the woman?s rosy cheeks and dark
red lips. Taking his goblet of wine, the god poured it over Amethyst. The crystal became stained with the blood
of the vine. And to this day, all amethysts are purple in remembrance of her." Gabrielle held her breath for a
moment before relaxing.
Xena finally remembered to breathe as the tale released her from its grip. Her lips stretched into a beautiful smile
as she congratulated her friend. "Gabrielle, that was a wonderful tale. You've never told me that one before."
The bard grinned and blushed slightly as she said, "Yes, I finally put that one into my own words."
Xena picked up her sword and sharpening stone to begin her nightly chore. "Well, you should put more of those
old tales to your own words. They're much better when you tell them." She secretly watched for Gabrielle's
reaction.
Blushing furiously, the bard ducked her head, embarrassed yet pleased beyond measure at the praise. The
warrior hid the smile that came to her at the mixed reaction complimenting her friend never failed to produce.
The two sat in silence for a while; only the scraping of stone on sword and the popping of the fire calling out
against the night creatures. After a few moments, Gabrielle spoke up, "You know, it seems kind of sad that's
the only thing we know about Amethyst."
Xena glanced at the bard, never pausing in her work, "What do you mean?"
"Well, what was she really like? Think about it. I'm sure she's not too happy that her only legacy, her only
fame is that a drunken god tried to rape her. Or that the goddess she called to for aid turned her into a rock.
How many other people are there who are only remembered for one blaze of glory or one stupid mistake?"
Xena smiled crookedly, "Well we don't get to choose our legacies, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle's brow crinkled in thought. She turned to the warrior, "What if we did? Xena, if you could choose the
one thing you would be remembered for, what would it be?"
The scraping of the stone slowed to silence as Xena stared deeply into the flames of the campfire. She thought
hard then shook herself out of her musings. She answered quietly, "I'd rather I wasn't remembered at all,
Gabrielle." Clenching her jaw, the warrior returned to the sharpening of her sword.
The young woman studied her friend's profile, "Why wouldn't you want to be remembered?"
Xena let out a heavy sigh, "Gabrielle...I was a warlord. I lead armies and sent countless people to their deaths. I
destroyed nations and villages." She bowed her head slightly, looking at the ground, "Somebody like that is best
forgotten."
Gabrielle pushed a stray lock of red gold hair behind her ear, as she turned fully to her friend. She kept her
voice gentle, yet firm with conviction as she reasoned with the warrior, "But Xena, that's not all you are
anymore. The world doesn't have to remember you like that.
?Yes, you were all those things, but you've changed. That right there is something grand. What if.? What if,
thousands of years from now, people knew what you were and how you've changed?
?Think of it...they would hear your story and realize that they don't have to be trapped by what they are today.
They would know if they didn't like who they were, or if they were in a place they didn't want to be, then they
had the power to change...to become the person they knew, deep inside, they should be. You would be an
inspiration to them. To me, Xena, that is better than any story of a perfect hero like Perseus defeating the
Kraken."
Xena looked into Gabrielle's eyes, her skepticism warring with the bard's unwavering conviction. She smiled
ever so slightly, "Well, I don't feel inspiring?but?maybe you're right." Then she tested the sharpness of her blade.
