me here in Potidaea. I wanna go with you! I’ve studied the stars, spoken with the philosophers. They say I have the
gift of prophecy. That can be very valuable to you. Take me with you. I want so much to be like you,” she pleaded.
The images changed to scenes of battles, a very young girl hiding in the corner giving her moral support. Time
shifted forward and the dusky captain watched the long, ankle-length skirt replaced with a knee-length rust skirt
while the peasant blouse turned into a short, green top. Before her mind’s eye, the captain witnessed the
transformation of the innocent farm girl from clumsy tagalong child, to womanly bard, to competent fighter, to
healer, to a follower of peace and love, to a master warrior that few could match.
Zara not only saw what the warrior saw, but she felt Xena’s emotions as if they were her own. She could feel the
darkness held within the ghost’s heart, and the seafarer heard the words spoken to Gabrielle. A scene by a campfire
caught her attention, then shifted to the playful antics in a large vat of water, only to be replaced with images of the
blonde, the grief clearly etched in her features as she took a life. Xena’s voice echoed in her mind, “Once you kill, it
changes everything.”
The Moroccan captain witnessed the slow progression of the warrior and her lover. She saw the pain and suffering
of the blonde each time she lost Xena. The captain heard Xena’s promise to her ailing soulmate, “Even in death,
Gabrielle, I will never leave you.” The promise rang strong within her senses. Before she could assimilate this, Zara
saw Gabrielle turn away from the warrior path. The images were a swirl of color as they moved through the
storyteller’s life-altering experiences. Then the dusky woman witnessed the savage anger of the Greek traveler as
she turned away from the path of peace to protect her spirit-twin.
Before the captain could absorb everything up to that point, she was thrown into a grotesque image of a body strung
up, the head missing, and Gabrielle weeping at the corpse’s feet. It was the realization of this that caused Zara to
sigh and her brow to furrow as it suddenly all became clear. Then she saw the small blonde’s final battle for her
love, the battle to retrieve Xena’s head in order that she could be burned intact.
“Now you know,” Xena’s voice was filled with pain, as it echoed from somewhere near the captain.
Zara felt frozen in time. Her mind was swirling with the information while her emotions were raging with pain. She
felt her senses overloading as her own horrible memories began to take control. When it seemed that she could take
no more, in her mind she fell to her knees, head bent as the silent gasps racked through her body.
“Zara?” the faceless voice called to her. When she did not respond, the sense of …something surrounded her,
engulfed her in a cold embrace.
“ZARA!” However, the captain could not answer, all she could do was sit and watch as the terrifying scene
unfolded. Like a never-ending nightmare, the images pulled the captain deeper into the darkness.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the mental anguish from her captors. As if the torture and rape were not
enough, they forced the Moroccan girl to witness the barbaric acts committed against her entourage, then, one by
one she witnessed their executions. Zara’s most vivid memories of those days were of the finely woven baskets which
were used to send the heads of her friends and servants to her father. Each time one of them was killed, she prayed
it would be the last. When it was only Zara and her beloved left, she tried to convince Alaya that her father would
come for them, but her words failed even to convince herself. Although she did not understand why, she knew that
her father had abandoned her.
The teenager felt the madness of that last day consume her. No longer concerned for her own physical pain, she tried
to break free, to reach her love. She remembered the strong arms of her captors holding her back as she fought to
reach Alaya. The guttural scream that was released did not sound like her own, but Zara knew it belonged to her the
instant the blade cut through the girl’s neck and ended the life of her beloved. Filled with an agonizing pain, the last
living survivor fell beside her young lover’s body. She wept until the bile in her stomach rose and spilled from her.
From that moment on Zara knew no happiness. Even when her brother’s friend had broken into the compound, she
felt no peace. The only emotion she held was the agony of life – a life without her spirit twin. Eventually she learned
to silence her pain, to push it away into a dark corner. In place of that pain was a numbness that consumed her
soul. After time had passed, the numbness was like an old friend, and the Moroccan woman no longer wondered why
her life was empty. She simply moved like a person alive all the while knowing that her heart, her soul was lost and
gone from the land of the living.
From somewhere nearby, the melancholy woman heard soothing words. She felt her body being rocked, cradled in a
strong embrace. As her silent tears subsided and the numbness consumed her, she noticed only the darkness around
her and the ever-present sensation that she was not alone. When the silence of the darkness returned, Zara knew
that Xena was with her, yet she could not see the ghost. She looked up, but saw only a faceless person, someone who
was only an illusive image.
“Oh, Zara…what you went through!” the faceless voice spoke to her as the sensations of fingers ran through her
hair. “You were so young,” the tone was soft and soothing. Despite the comfort, the grieving captain felt nothing.
She closed her eyes and settled into the embrace. With head lowered, the Moroccan sighed as she resigned herself to
the numbness of her life.
Zara awoke in a tangle of blankets. She sat bolt upright as she glanced around her cabin. The afternoon sun barely shone
through the window. As she rose from the bed, she tried to sort out her dreams and to remember everything that was within
her visions. When the images became clear, she sighed as the full impact settled in.
“Now you know,” the captain heard a voice say. Shocked, she looked around swiftly, but found no one. Gulping, she rose
and quickly dressed, while glancing around the empty cabin. “Zara, now you know!” the voice was more insistent.
“Who are you?” she asked the empty room.
“You know who I am, you can hear me now!” the woman’s voice was excited.
“No… no, I do NOT hear anything,” the captain insisted as she quickly pulled on her boots.
“How can you deny it, I’m here right beside you, and now you know!” the voice seemed jubilant at the news.
“I do not know what you are saying! And I do NOT hear you!” the tall woman tried to convince herself as she began to
make her way from the cabin. Before she could exit, a sudden sound broke free as the chair behind her desk was slammed
against the cabin door.
“It’s me, Zara! Xena. I’m here, and you can hear me. You didn’t imagine it, it was real,” the voice grew firmer.
Not wanting to believe what was happening, Zara shook her head as she tried to find a logical explanation for the voice.
“No, that is not possible,” the dusky woman’s voice was low as she fought for understanding.
“How can it not be! You were there, I was there!” Xena shouted, then added. “Otherwise, how could I know what
happened to you and your soulmate, Alaya?”
Zara felt Xena’s words like a physical blow. Protective of her lover’s memories, the sea captain lashed out at the unseen
voice. “NO! YOU KNOW NOTHING!” she shouted at the air, “and I hear nothing!”
“Zara, listen, please! I’m sorry, but you’ve got to understand what happened. Then you’ll be able to help Gabrielle,” the
voice said.
“Ha! Like she would want my help!” the captain spat out before she turned, tossed the chair aside, and ran from the room.
“I am not hearing anything, I refuse to hear anything,” she mumbled as she walked passed her crewmen, her eyes never
wavering from the deck. When she bumped into someone, she looked up and glanced into Gabrielle’s green eyes.
“You! Listen to me, I do NOT hear anyone! Do you understand?” Zara shouted at the Greek woman as she grabbed her
by the shoulders. When the look of confusion crossed Gabrielle’s face, the Moroccan merely grunted as she released her
