What if (Part III)
Xena was sitting near the river, writing on a scroll, she can face things when she writing down her feeling and fears, she never wrote before but with time she learned with Gabrielle. The air in my chamber was sharp and foreign, a scent of spices drifting in from the bustling street beyond. India was awakening, vibrant with cries, bells, and the distant laughter of children running toward the marketplace. I gathered my few belongings, a battered sword, a faded locket with Gabrielle’s smile inside, a scrap of parchment bearing Eve’s first scrawled poem, and stepped out beneath a sky painted gold and rose. Every step forward was a bargain with memory. I moved through the crowd, unseen, my mind wreathed with thoughts of home and the faces I carried within me. My mission pressed upon me with the weight of prophecy: defeat Indrajit, restore balance, and return to the ones whose love had shaped me into more than a warrior. Crossing the city, I found myself at the river's edg...