Sometime in the Future - Part 1

By: David Seo

As he sat down in his sofa to watch the ten o’clock news, Gilead heard the sound of a knock coming from his door just as his butt was touching the seat. Wondering who in Tartarus it could be, Gilead turned off the tube, got up, quickly shifted over to the door and stood in front of it.

It certainly could not be the landlord, as the fellow never showed his face around these parts. And the few mortals he knew were out of town, so it was someone else at the door. Perhaps it was the Publisher’s Clearinghouse, with a check for three million?

Upon opening the door, Gilead’s mouth dropped open in utter shock, and he slammed the door shut again. He stood with his back to the door. He could not believe the sight he had just seen. He turned around, looked through his peephole, and reopened the door. There stood a blond woman, flashing a mischievous smile. She was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee shirt, but it had taken Gilead no more than half a second to realize it was Callisto.

"Hello, Gilead. What took you so long to come to the door?" Callisto asked, giving him a wink.

Gilead stood in the doorway, not allowing her to come inside, and folded his arms. "Well, I never imagined I’d run in to YOU again!" he sneered.

"Oh, surely you haven’t forgotten about your dear old Callisto! It’s only been a few thousand years! …Although you have to admit it has been a while."

"Yeah, and definitely not long enough." Gilead squinted at Callisto, trying to probe her mind. "What in the world are you doing here? Our old rivalry—if you could call it that—is long over. Last time we met, we agreed to never bother each other again."

"Oh, yeah. I remember: it was 55 A. D. Say, what year is it now?"

Gilead wasn’t smiling. "February 10, 1999 A. D."

"Gee, it’s been that long?"

"Afraid so. I ask again: why are you here?"

"Well…you know, a girl gets bored now and then. All the men out there are the same…those pigs, always thinking the wrong things…they haven’t changed a bit in over a thousand years. I needed to talk to a kindred spirit."

Gilead did not move from his position. He continued to stare at Callisto, who now wore an innocent puppy face look, and grinned at him. Visions of the past, of the time when Gabby and Xena were alive and the Olympians thrived, passed in Gilead’s mind…

It already seemed like an eternity ago. After he had eaten Ambrosia on that fateful night, Gilead has lost track of time. He knew it was something that came naturally for immortals, for they were no longer restricted by the sense of "time," as in hours, days, weeks, years, etc, since they could live forever. Being "liberated" from the mortal cycle of birth and death, and being placed above it, had given Gilead a new perspective.

As Gilead lived through the ages, it was sometimes impossible to not be completely befuddled or amazed at how people changed through the millennia. The Olympians, once so much a part of everyday life for the common folk, were now all but forgotten. Fads, such as clothes, came and went, as skirts got shorter, and other previously unmentioned things were discussed in the open. Truly ingenious gadgets, such as the radio and television were invented, bringing the world closer together. Gilead noticed that people were now relying on themselves more than ever, and not looking above—to the gods—for answers. Xena had been one such person in her time, believing that one can make her own fate.

Gilead remembered seeing the deaths of his mother Xena, as well as that of Gabby: it was not by sword or spear or execution, but by old age. As the two women grew older and eventually had to abandon their lifestyle of travel and adventure, Gilead observed from afar, watching over them. It was Xena who passed away first, being much older, in the arms of her friend Gabrielle. She died a quiet, warm, and peaceful death, content and happy. When Gabby was left by herself, she too now an aged woman, she returned to her hometown of Potidaea and began to make a living working in the town hospice.

When Gabby buried her dear friend Xena and returned to Potidaea, Gilead accompanied her, albeit not in person, following behind and keeping her journey safe. She had been Gilead’s first love, and he had sworn to himself to protect her.

In the evenings Gabby would educate the children of the town, teaching them mathematics and writing, and telling them stories of her adventures with Xena. Not wishing to be identified as a hero who led a wild and crazy life, Gabby used the monikers "Meg" and "Leah" in her stories. Not that she wanted to forget her heydays, but she now wanted a quiet, "normal" life.

After she had buried her friend back in Amphipolis, Gabrielle wanted nothing more than to return to Potidaea and live peacefully. Several times the mischievous Callisto tried to stir up trouble in the town upon Gabby’s arrival, but Gilead fought her off each time without alerting any citizen of the town. Like the torchlight that wards off the thieves, so did Gilead’s silent vigilant watch protect the town of Potidaea until its end in the pages of history.

Snapping back into reality, Gilead looked once again into Callisto’s eyes. "So, you’re saying that you risked breaching your pact and sought me out because you’re bored? Is that it? You know how we never do anything but fight when we see each other."

"Gosh, Solan! Must you always puts things in such negative terms?"

Gilead shrugged. "I do have a certain way with you."

Callisto reached up and touched Gilead’s arm. "COME ON, Gilead. Now don’t you even think about telling me that being stuck in this mortal world is actually fun!"

Gilead did not answer. Callisto tugged at his arm. "Come on, old friend. Let’s take a walk."

The heat of the summer night was stuffy and hot, but the two immortals were unfazed. Modern-day Gilead was dressed in black jeans and a black longcoat with no shirt, with the jeans-and-tee shirt Callisto walking next to him.

"Must you always wear black? I understand in the old days you never had a change of clothes but aren’t things better now?"

"I like black. It’s my color."

"You haven’t changed a bit, Solan. You’re the same boring warrior that fulfilled his duties ever so vigilantly…but that’s over now, Solan. Why don’t you relax for a change?"

"We are gods, Callisto. We can shape the world."

Callisto stopped, and slapped Gilead’s arms. "Who do you think you’re kidding? We cannot change the world, just the two of us. Well, technically we could, but we’ll have to destroy the whole world before any of the mortals would listen to us. That is why the gods disappeared, Solan; because no one believed in them!"

Gilead grabbed Callisto and shoved her against a nearby brick wall. "Don’t talk that way! There is an order, a hierarchy in this world! There are the gods, and they are on top. The mortals are down at the bottom!"

Callisto broke her pledge and used her powers, flinging Gilead back fifty feet. When Gilead managed to land on his feet, Callisto shouted at him. "Wake up, Gilead! Take a good look around you! Do you see anyone setting up shrines and temples and offering blood sacrifices to Athena or Apollo or Zeus? The times change, Gilead, and so does the world! People change, and the world must change with it!"

Gilead whipped up a whirlwind and sent Callisto flying. Callisto’s body, riding the whirlwind, rose in to the air, and as Gilead cut the wind out from below her, she slammed into the building’s wall, leaving a crack. Callisto fell to the ground with a thud.

Gilead fully expected Callisto to retaliate, but when she just sat up on the ground and clutched her arm, looking directly at him, he knew something was up. "What tricks do you have up your sleeve this time, Callisto?"

Moans of pain escaped Callisto’s lips. "Nothing. I swear to you, I have no more tricks. Not ever; I can guarantee it."

"Now, you do realize that I don’t believe a word of that," snapped Gilead, still in a fighting stance.

"Believe what you will, but know this: you’ve just lost your immortality."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"The same applies for me. When we used our powers just now, we used up the last ounce of immortality that we had left. If you didn’t, you will very soon."

"Hold on. You’re telling me that the effects of Ambrosia wears off after a while?"

"Apparently."

Gilead, disbelieving, whipped his hand out; nothing happened. Callisto, half-chuckling and half-coughing, waved her hand. "Don’t make a fool out of yourself, Solan. You’re finished. Both of us are."

Gilead shook his head, and looked down at his hand. "Just who told you that the effects of Ambrosia are temporary?"

Callisto tried to speak, but she suddenly coughed up blood. Seeing her own blood, Callisto began to panic, and got up. She staggered, and Gilead rushed over and caught her before her head hit the pavement.

"Tell me what is going on, or I’ll drive your head into the ground myself," snarled Gilead.

Even in pain, Callisto was in her playful nature. "Please, handsome, can you dispense with the colorful language?"

"Fine." Gilead let go of Callisto, and her body once again thudded to the ground. There was a loud "oof" on Callisto’s part, and she grabbed her side. As Callisto winced in pain, Gilead was starting to believe all this was really happening. They had lost their immortality.

Goddess Athena, what is going on? Asking Athena for help full knowing she would not answer, Gilead helped Callisto up. Staggering, she clung to him for support. "Can we go back to your place? I’ll explain everything. I promise. No more jokes." Coughing and hacking, Callisto was serious for the first time in her long life.

Callisto was lying on Gilead’s bed in his apartment. She had a bandage wrapped around her head, and her left arm was in a sling. Gilead was still mumbling "how could this happen" and "what’s going on" to himself, as he applied a gauze pad to Callisto’s bruised cheek.

"Now, start talking."

Callisto let out a moan of pain, and tried to sit up. The dizziness got to her, and her body limped to the side, but Gilead caught her. He slapped down two pillows against the wall, and put Callisto’s head on it, so she was leaning on the wall instead of lying down. Callisto steadied herself, and relaxed.

Letting out a sigh of disbelief, Gilead stroked Callisto’s forehead.

Callisto, touching his hand, started to talk. She was so weak, her voice was only a whisper, and Gilead had to lean over to hear what she was saying. Gilead thought to himself, this is unbelievable. The mighty Callisto reduced to the role of a patient with a head injury?

"I saw Velasca a while back," Callisto was saying.

Gilead looked at Callisto. "Velasca?! Are you serious?"

Callisto nodded. "She had somehow managed to escape from that hardened lava where Xena imprisoned her. It must have been an earthquake or something…that made a hole for her to squeeze through."

Gilead, silent, waited for Callisto to go on.

"She…had already lost her powers when I met her. Back then, I just assumed that being trapped in the lava like that must have drained her power. But when I started to get weaker, I assumed that the effects of Ambrosia were temporary, and that I would lose my immortality as well, like Velasca."

"So, what happened to Velasca?"

"At first she refused to believe it, but when it finally dawned on her that she was immortal no more, she committed suicide."

Gilead got up and paced the room. His brain was hard at work. Remembering that he still had his mind powers, he probed Callisto’s mind, and was dismayed to see that she was telling the truth. So, Callisto and he were the last two souls left from the ancient Roman Empire. Just as well, if he can swallow this news…

"Face it, Solan. We’re just like the rest of them now. In a way, this can be a good thing. Now we can really be a part of this new world."

Gilead looked over at Callisto. Her eyes were sparkling; she had really meant what she said. When he said nothing, Callisto looked back at him. "Admit it, Gilead. That is what you also want, isn’t it? Living in this world and seeing life pass by you; you were always a spectator. You want to be a part of this world, and the ways things go, just as much as I do."

Gilead realized Callisto was dead right. Although he had denied it, the feeling of emptiness, of isolation, of being an immortal was always there. Callisto had felt this way since the days when Xena was still alive, and over the past thousand years, Gilead had come to share in this viewpoint, although he had fervently denied it to himself.

Gilead avoided Callisto’s gaze. "Tell me it isn’t so," she challenged.

"All right; you win, Callisto. But since when did you become the Gabrielle of our time?"

"What do you mean?"

"…With a reverence for life and what goes on in the world?"

Callisto looked hurt. "Why can’t you accept the fact that I’m no longer just a crazy bitch bent on inflicting suffering and pain? Why must you always accuse me of being evil?"

"Because that’s what you are, Callisto! You teamed up with Hope on more than one occasion, and you killed Perdicas in cold blood!"

"I know! And not a moment goes by in which I don’t regret it! Why can’t you see? Probe my mind, Gilead. See for yourself! I am tired of this existence! I am tired of living an empty life, devoid of all things that make life so worthwhile! I felt love as a child before my family died; I want to feel that love again. I felt so lonely over these thousand years…"

Callisto burst into tears. Gilead, shocked at what he was seeing, stood aghast momentarily. Regrouping himself, he probed Callisto’s mind, and found that her feelings were genuine. She had been living a life of torture, and the pain and suffering and guilt that she felt unlocked her emotions again, buried deep within her heart when her family was killed. Feelings of love, pity, pride, envy, hope, anger, happiness…all of the human emotions hit Gilead like a torrential tidal wave, flooding out of her mind and engulfing Gilead. Unable to stand the power and impact of such energy, Gilead broke contact with Callisto’s mind. He stood back, looking at Callisto.

Gilead was no longer looking at a deranged immortal that commanded the power of fire; he was looking at a young woman who was lost, unsure about herself, and fearful. He laid a hand on Callisto’s shuddering shoulder, and Callisto leaned on his body. Gilead put his arms around her.

"I’m sorry, Callisto."

Callisto said nothing.

As Callisto slept in his bed, Gilead stood watch. He could see perfectly in the dimly lit room, and could hear the breathing of Callisto, pampered, warm, and comfortable. Gilead stared at Callisto, his former nemesis, and noticed the faintest of smile on her lips. What should he do with her? She had come to him out of pure desperation, and now Gilead sensed that Callisto’s feelings toward him were turning into something else—she had the deepest respect for him, and even more, she was falling in love with him.

Gilead wondered if this was proper. Callisto could not be left alone anymore—she needed someone, a solid rock, to lean on as she adjusted to her new mortal life and mended her past guilt. And she was counting on him.

How about it? Gilead asked himself. I mean, you hated being immortal anyway, maybe it is good that you are mortal now. Only question is…what is YOUR feeling toward HER? His mind asked him, indicating Callisto.

Daybreak crept up on the two without warning, and Gilead remembered that Callisto would soon wake up, and she would need breakfast. Gilead now realized that, as long as Callisto was around, he would have to truly live like a mortal. While Gilead himself rarely needed sustenance or rest, Callisto would now have to adhere to the rigorous restrictions of mortal living.

Just in case she wakes up while he was out, Gilead left Callisto a note, and went outside. When he returned with a couple of bags of Burger King, he found her awake, holding his note in her hand. When she saw him, she flashed a smile, but her injuries told her to stay in bed.

"Ready for some food in over a thousand years?" Gilead joked as he laid the bags down on the table in the dining room.

As she was being helped out of bed, Callisto asked, "did you stay up all night, Gilead?"

"Yes. I don’t mind."

Callisto’s stomach made a growling noise. "First time in more than a millenium," said Callisto.

"I expect you’ll be saying that a lot," Gilead said as he helped Callisto over to the table.

After breakfast, Callisto looked at Gilead and asked, "aren’t you curious as to the real reason why I came to you?"

Gilead already knew, but played dumb. "All right; why did you come?"

Callisto saw right through him. "You already know, don’t you?"

"Yes, but humor me." Gilead’s flashed his fatherlike reassuring smile.

"Okay…It’s because you were the only one I knew in this world. You were the only one I could think of, who’d help me start over…and now, I see that you are the only one I’ll ever need."

Gilead’s eyebrow went up. Grinning ever so slightly, he asked, "what does that mean?"

He saw her blush for the first time. "I think you know," Callisto answered. As Gilead grinned and squinted at her, Callisto blushed again and asked, "so…what do you think? Can I be a good replacement for Gabrielle?"

Gilead almost broke out into a laugh. He got up and paced around the table. Callisto, looking nervous like a schoolgirl awaiting judgement from her headmaster, followed him around with her eyes. When Gilead went around to her back and laid both hands on her shoulders, she froze.

Gilead ran his finger down Callisto’s cheek, and said, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking last night."

Callisto’s eyes seemed to ask, "And, so?"

Gilead kept his hands on her shoulders, and looked out the window, with the first sun rays coming through. He looked back down at her and said, "As for whether you would make a good replacement for Gabrielle: you just did."

Callisto’s sparkling eyes met Gilead’s. Relieved, she flashed a big smile, as the radiance of the morning sun filled Gilead’s bedroom. The rays illuminated both people’s faces, as Gilead pulled Callisto up and enveloped her in his arms.

To be concluded in "Sometime In the Future" #2…