Author's Notes:
Hello all. Well with the posting of The Plot, the cat's out of the bag. And, no, I'm not talking about Cringer. Hmmm...interesting idea though. :o)
So I would like to take a moment and give a huge thank you to my beta reader, cheerleader, and partner in crime--Evelyn CMB. You have been an absolute hoot to work with, and I look forward to many more e-mails and stories to beta in the near future. I still can't thank you enough for not only liking the back story I wrote for Skeletor and Miro, but actually planting seeds in your stories to support it. You're just too cool! No matter what the teens in your life may think. ;o) And allowing me to freely reference your work in mine--again, I say, "Thank you!"
Mist Walker, thank you for your continued support and patience. I talked your ear off for hours and bounced all kinds of crazy ideas off of you, and you never stopped being enthusiastic. More importantly, thank you for your honest criticism. You helped me avoid plot pitfalls left and right. Thanks!
Thank you, Banquo's Ghost, and Adona for your reviews. You really encouraged me in this, my first fan fiction.
I have not referenced anyone's fan fanfiction in this story without obtaining permission first.
I do not make any money from these stories or any characters owned my Mattel, and do not own any part of He-Man and the Master's of the Universe. So please don't sue me. I want to buy the new Teela figure this week!
This story is classic MOTU and deals with the redemption of Skeletor. If you can't stand the thought of Skeletor and Lyn as anything other than icons of evil, you will want to visit another story.
Chapter 3—Paradox
Neara yanked on Skeletor's hood, and pointed to a bird.
"Keltor, wook!" she said delightedly.
"Skeletor, Neara, Skeletor," the weary wizard repeated for what seemed the hundredth time today.
"Really, Skeletor, you need to let this go," Lyn advised listlessly, not slowing her pace. They must have been walking for four hours straight now. "She calls me 'Wyn' and you've tried to teach her to say your name for the last five days."
"Keltor is not my name," snapped Skeletor.
Lyn turned to look at Skeletor. He hadn't shown this much irritation about anything during the last week, and there had been plenty of reasons—the day-long torrential rain that ended with Micah and Neara taking long magic-enhanced naps—the time Neara wandered into a field of tall grasses and disturbed a nest of stinging insects Lyn had no wish to ever encounter again in this or any other lifetime—Micah's constant begging to hear the story of the beautiful Princess Neara—and his singing. Blast it! Of all the children to rescue, why did they have to pick up the child of a bard? This child knew more songs than anyone had a right to.
At first Lyn and Skeletor warned Micah in no uncertain terms that he was NOT to sing. He soon became bored and started asking all kinds of uncomfortable questions like, "Is Lyn Skeletor's girlfriend?" or "My father was a bard; what job did you do on your world before you came here? And, her personal favorite, "Where do babies come from?"
After one day of this, Micah was ordered to sing. The upside to the singing was that Micah tired much less easily, and Neara, though she could not pronounce the lyrics, hummed happily, ending some of the unbearable gibberish.
Through all of this, Skeletor remained calm. She would occasionally see a flash of red from his eyes, but then he would take deep breaths or count slowly. 'He really is trying,' Lyn thought, amazed, 'to control his anger. And he hasn't passed Micah or Neara off to me once.'
Out of guilt for the whole, "magic kiss" thing, which Neara never forgot, Lyn had taken on the bulk of the other tasks needed during their journey. She conjured the food, set up the campsites, cast the warning spells, and offered to watch the children, so Skeletor could 'scout ahead' at the end of each day.
Meanwhile Skeletor—Skeletor—was giving Neara baths, seeing to the children's meals, mending (with magic, of course) and washing clothes, calming them when they were afraid, healing injuries and making attempts (he had not managed to do this believably yet) to entertain them.
'Why does the name bother him so much,' Lyn questioned. Not long ago, this mystery would have fascinated Lyn. She would have relentlessly pursued the answer in order to gain an advantage over Skeletor. Now she felt nothing more than a mild curiosity. The only secret she wanted to discover now was the location of a hot bath and a good meal.
"Skeletor," said Lyn.
"Neara, come back here, you troublesome little terror," Skeletor said in exasperation as the child tottered toward a nettle bush.
Skeletor snatched a wailing Neara away from her goal. Lyn walked up beside him and took the crying child from his arms.
"We must be near the jungle now," she said over Neara's sobs, "I'll put them to bed. Why don't you scout for a while?"
Skeletor nodded.
He walked for almost a half-hour before he gave up the pretense of scouting and leaned against a tree.
He looked into the clear turquoise sky. 'I would be depressed right now, if I weren't so exhausted,' Skeletor mused. 'I'm so tired of feeling like a 'goody, goody.'' He sighed. Skeletor had hoped that by throwing himself completely into the responsibility he had taken on, he would at least find some distraction from the disgust he felt when he saw what he was becoming. 'Why can't I like doing the right thing? Shouldn't doing 'good' make me feel happy with myself?' questioned Skeletor.
He yearned for fight between warriors: muscle against muscle, metal against metal, magic against magic.
'The only fight I've been involved in lately is who gets the bigger 'half' of the last sweetbread.' Skeletor shook his head, 'I wonder if I could get Prince He-Man to come fight a few rounds for old times' sake.'
"What am I thinking?" he muttered with a groan. "He'd take one look at me babysitting two snotty two kids and would be too busy laughing to fight."
Adding insult to injury, he had to draw upon hated memories of his own childhood to find solutions and tools to use with children. Things he did not want to acknowledge haunted his dreams—dreams that he was reminded of each time Neara called him a name too close to his name in these unwanted visions.
Lyn sighed with relief. Brother and sister were snuggled together and fast asleep.
'They're not so bad,' she allowed. 'But I won't be sad to leave them with the Truth Sworn,' Lyn thought quickly. 'Then it will be just Skeletor and I.' Lyn felt a strange flutter in her stomach as she thought of being alone with Skeletor again. 'This is crazy. Skeletor is my partner. That is all. I'm just confused because he's acting so differently. He's still Skeletor,' she told herself. She sighed and shook her head. 'The sooner we join the resistance, the better.'
Keldor ran down the path to his house. The bag of honeyberries banged on his back in time with his swift stride.
A smile lit his face as he saw his father's skywind in front of the house.
Keldor slowed as he reached the door. Father hadn't closed it completely. Keldor stopped with a look of disgust as he saw his mother and father kissing, "Yuck," he said and turned away to avoid this disturbing sight.
"Keely, I don't know how much more I can stand this separation between us. I want you beside me. I want everyone to know how much I love you and Keldor." Hearing silence, Keldor approached the door again, only to see more kissing.
"Sheesh!" he muttered.
"We know how much you love us, Miro,"
"You and Keldor should be wearing royal robes. Keldor should have real sword masters, and tutors. Not me, a prince with branches and books."
"He's doing fine. He has your determination and swift mind."
"And your passion and zest for life," Miro said stroking Keely's cheek.
"And my blue complexion, Miro. I saw enough politics during my enslavement among my people, to know that you need to make sure to bring us into court only when the time is right."
"No one will fear you in Eternia," Miro said.
"Maybe not, but those who oppose you will use others' fear to justify any opposition they have to your rule and polices when you are king, Miro. Worse, they will not accept Keldor as their prince. If you do not set the climate for our introduction in exactly the right way, you could end your family's royal line."
"I—" started Miro.
"Don't you dare say it," Keely warned. "There are too few just rulers in this world. You will not take a chance of destroying the well-being of your people by laying aside your crown, and I will not have this discussion with you again."
"Keldor, I've stopped lecturing your father now," called Keely. "So you can stop listening at the door and bring in those honeyberries."
Skeletor awoke. He really wanted to hit something. This time he didn't even try to go back to sleep.
The next day, Skeletor and Lyn looked over the vertical drop that descended at least ten feet before even the first leaf could be seen.
Micah and Neara laughed and chased one another behind them in a clumsy game of tag.
"Teleportation?" Lyn asked scanning the cliffs that surrounded the Sunken Jungle.
"Too dangerous unless we know what's down there."
"I could go down and scout—"
"No, Lyn. If the creatures in this pit are as dangerous as Micah described, we need to stay together."
"We could travel around the outer edge and look for an easier way down."
"No, your magic led us to this spot. I should have had confidence in it before."
Lyn looked away. Skeletor was relying on her magic more and more. He only tested her warning spells around the camps once now rather than every few hours as he used to.
'He's trusting me,' Lyn realized with a start. Lyn felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through her.
"I can cast a spell that will widen the area I can see in the globe of my staff, but it will take time and concentration," Lyn said. She jerked her head back to the game of tag turned squealing tickle fight.
"Take the time you need, Lyn, we'll go back to the river and try to catch some fish before we go. Besides," Skeletor said, releasing a sigh of resignation upon seeing the dust-covered children, "it looks like it's time for another bath." 'It's official,' thought Skeletor, 'I am depressed.'
Skeletor groaned inwardly as a he snatched up Neara who began to hug him, covering the wizard with dust.
"Yuck! Stop that!" he sputtered, trying to pry Neara's arms from his neck. Neara laughed, thinking it was a game, and began to shower kisses on Skeletor's bony face. "Arrgh! What did it do to deserve this," he moaned. "Micah, follow me, and take your sister before I throw up."
"Keltor, wet," laughed Neara as she splashed in the shallow section of the river they were taking their "swim" in.
"Neara I have sent creatures to the Valley of Echoes for less than this," he threatened, ducking another one of Neara's splashes.
Neara answered his threat with a two handed splash that soaked Skeletor's hood completely.
"Blast it, you bite-sized little shadow beast! You will stop this," he said, pulling Neara up to look into his blood-red eye sockets.
Rather than be frightened into stopping, as he hoped, Neara tilted her head to the side as though confused.
"Boo boo?" she asked and swooped down to kiss the bone between his eye sockets. "Boo boo way day!" she cheered.
"Arrgh! Stop it! Once a day is enough!" Skeletor snapped as he shook his head. This was ridiculous. He had spent the afternoon fishing, and now he was swimming with two orphans. Micah, at least had proved useful. Apparently there was a trick to catching the Glesel fish that were in this river. Thanks to Micah's knowledge, everyone would have full stomachs tonight and still have breakfast in morning that wouldn't cost any magical energy to create.
'But, I truly hate this,' Skeletor thought to himself. 'Relaxing in this cool water is pleasant. We have plenty of food, and they are happy. They also really like me for reasons that are beyond me. So why am I so blasted miserable?' Skeletor pondered as he ducked another one of Neara's splashes. 'If that do-gooder prince He-Man were here, he'd be laughing with the children and enjoying the afternoon. Yet I feel like a fool. A wet pathetic imbecile. I just don't get it. Being good seems so natural to him. It seemed to be as easy as breathing for Adam.'
'Not completely,though' Skeletor reminded himself. 'For years Prince Adam let everyone believe he was a coward. His father berated him in front of the entire court many times. He never took any credit for all the good he did. Adam had a sword to Hordak's throat after he believed Hordak killed the woman he loved. Hordak had tortured him and his family, but Adam didn't kill him. I would have killed Hordak in a heartbeat for much less. But,' Skeletor thought with a shudder, 'if Adam had been the type to take revenge, I would be in Blazes now. I owe my life and eternity to Adam's commitment to good, yet even being 'nice' (how I hate that word) makes my skin crawl.'
'I came here to fight the Horde, not be a babysitter.' He fumed, grinding his teeth.
"Micah, we're leaving," Skeletor barked.
"Coming, Skeletor," Micah said and began to swim toward the shore.
Skeletor waded out of the waist-deep water holding Neara in his arms. Her shift was soaking wet and her auburn curls were plastered to her head.
"Stay," he commanded. The blue wizard placed her on the pebble covered shore and turned to the spot where he left his cloak.
"Come here so I can dry you off," Skeletor said, turning to see Neara run off after a flutterbug. "Neara, come back here," ordered Skeletor.
"I'll get her, Skeletor," Micah said. He quickly pulled his pants over his wet shorts.
Skeletor nodded and turned to gather up Neara's clothes. He looked at the faded pink dress that had already been patched on several occasions. Even faded, this frock would stick out against the green they would soon be immersed in. It wouldn't hold up much longer anyway.
Though he did not like to remember how he had this knowledge, Skeletor understood a thing or two about surviving in a dangerous jungle. One fact he knew for sure was that all of them would need to be able to blend into the jungle. He was sure his blue-grey cloak would stick out as would Lyn's black and purple.
'Taking care of the brats is hard enough as it is without their clothes alerting every predator in the jungle where we are.'
Skeletor began to transform the dress into a mottled green and rearranged the fibers to allow better airflow in spite of the fact that the dress was now a long-sleeved shirt and pair of pants. He focused once again, looking at Neara's hole-filled slippers, and they morphed into tough leather boots with sturdy slip-proof soles.
Skeletor next turned his attention to Micah's boots and shirt changing them to match the green of Neara's new clothes. He produced a new pair of pants and two rain cloaks in the same camouflage pattern for both of the children.
Skeletor touched the glowing ram's head of his staff to his purple harness and a mottled green spread over the leather and fabric that covered his muscular form.
Then, with a pulse of concentration and a flash of light, four amulets materialized at Skeletor's feet. He had just gathered them up when he heard Neara's wail approaching.
He took the crying girl from her brother. 'I hope this shuts her up.'
"I have a pretty necklace for you, Neara." Skeletor dangled the medallion in front of his tiny charge.
"Pet-ty," Neara said playing with the necklace Skeletor had just secured around her neck both with a clasp and with a spell to keep the child from losing it.
"New clothes," exclaimed Micah, seeing the boots and cloaks at Skeletor's feet.
"You will need to blend in with the surrounding after we enter the jungle, and these clothes will protect you better than the ones you had."
"Thank you," said Micah, his voice muffled as he pulled his new shirt over his head.
"You'll need one of these amulets as well," Skeletor said, jerking his head toward the rock where he laid them. He struggled to get Neara's shirt over her head. "Blast it! Hold still you little pest!"
"Okay," Micah said. He slid one of the silver and green charms over his head.
Skeletor looked at the boy for a moment. Micah never questioned him, he realized with a start. Micah just trusted him. He had received more obedience and respect from Micah than he had from any of his minions in Snake Mountain, yet the child did not seem to have any fear of him.
'Why do I feel so disgusted with myself right now, then," he asked himself.
Neara began to cry. 'I'm hungry too, you impatient brat.' Skeletor thought irritably.
Skeletor quickly prepared the evening meal and dined as Neara ate the bites he broke off for her.
"Here," said Skeletor, offering Lyn the last amulet as she sat across from him.
"Jewelry?" Lyn asked with a smirk hiding her discomfort behind her usual sarcasm. "I didn't know you cared," she said chuckling as she slid the amulet over her head.
"If you find my insect and pest repelling charm so touching, wait till you see my water purification spell," he said drolly.
"These keep the insects away?" asked Micah, looking doubtfully at the charm around his neck.
"Yes, which is why you must not take it off at any time," warned Skeletor. "The last thing I want is some creepy crawly to make one of us sick, and that tangle of weeds down there will be overflowing with them. I placed a spell on the charms to keep the smaller pests away from us." 'Because the last thing I want to deal with is two sick children.'
"I thought the whole purpose of catching our food was to save our strength, Skeletor," commented Lyn, gesturing toward the new clothes and amulets. "Those must have taken a fair bit of power to create."
"What do you mean?" asked Micah. "He just said some words and they appeared."
"Magic looks easy, but it takes concentration and depends on the strength and discipline of the person wielding it," explained Lyn. "Creating food, clothes, or widening the range of my viewing crystal are tiring experiences. The more complicated the spell, the more tired the mage will be after it's cast."
"How does it work?" asked Micah intrigued.
"Each world has a different level of magical energy," Lyn explained. "Some have next to no magic and the only way the people can advance is through technology like the tanks, robots and computers the Horde uses. Others are so filled with magic that no technology will work on them at all, and the people of these planets advance only through the study and use of the world's mystical resources. Then there are worlds like this one. The power of this planet is strong, but not too strong. Here we can enjoy the benefits of magic and technology. That is one of the reasons Skeletor and I choose to come to Carnia."
"Is that why you said we wouldn't be going down to the rainforest today? Because you need to rest?" Micah asked looking at Lyn and Skeletor.
"Yes," said Skeleor, "and speaking of our trip tomorrow, Lyn, your clothing needs to be changed as well. You will be too noticeable." He reached the glowing talisman on his staff toward her. "I will make the alterations if you like."
Lyn nodded. She shuddered slightly when she felt Skeletor touch his staff to her shoulder. Her cloak and bodysuit became a blotchy green and the high-heeled boots she favored morphed into sturdy hiking boots.
"Could I learn to use magic?" asked Micah.
"I don't know, Micah. Not everyone has the gift," said Skeletor.
"Could you teach me?" asked Micah looking from Lyn to Skeletor.
'Teaching Micah the basics of magic could keep him occupied during the remainder of this journey,' Skeletor mused, 'and since most of the first exercises involve memorization and meditation, it could stop the ceaseless string of cursed songs from this boy.'
"Yes, I'll teach you."
"Thank you, Skeletor!" Micah said throwing his arms around Skeletor in a grateful hug.
Lyn tried unsuccessfully to hide her amused grin behind her hand.
"Drat it, boy. You and your sister better go to bed before I change my mind."
Micah nodded and lifted his already sleeping sister to their palate.
"Guess what, Neara?" he whispered to his groggy sister. "I'm going to be a mage just like Skeletor and Lyn."
Keldor dove into the thick underbrush that was the boundary between his homestead and the Vine Jungle. He tried to silence his sobs as he raced further into the tropical forest.
"Wait boy, come back!" shouted a man's voice.
"We won't hurt you. We want to help you! We're sorry for what Larson did to your mother," another man said his voice breaking.
"We won't let him hurt you. Please come back! It's dangerous," the first man continued.
Keldor stumbled forward, tears blinding him as he could no longer contain his sobs.
"Momma," he cried. "Momma," he repeated between sobs. "I only wanted to get help. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Blinded by his tears, Keldor stumbled to the ground. He lay there in the dirt sobbing until he had no tears left. For hours he lay still, willing himself to fade into nothing. It was his pounding headache that finally forced Keldor to push himself back up on his knees.
Mother was dead—murdered by those who offered to help them. Keldor knew only one thing for sure. 'I have to get to my father. He will make these monsters pay for what they did to Mother.'
Keldor stood, dirt smeared all over his damp tunic. He wrapped his arms around himself to control his shivering, and set off toward the jungle's border, tears flowing freely from his eyes.
"Momma," Skeletor moaned. He bolted from the ground. 'This isn't happening,'
He waved his staff over the rest of the cliff-side camp casting a sleep spell so strong that even Lyn would not be able to wake before he came back to reverse it. He did not want to explain why he had to take a walk in the middle of the night.
Skeletor traveled for over a half an hour before he found what he was looking for. A massive tree loomed high above the hill he stood upon. Grinding his teeth, his eye sockets glowing crimson, Skeletor raised his staff. He poured all of his fury and hate into it. The ram's head talisman blazed with a white-hot flame. He unleashed a blast that reduced the tree to dust in an ear-shattering explosion.
The intensity of the blast threw him on his back.
Ash fell around Skeletor like a strange grey snowstorm as he pushed himself up from the ground. The irony of this situation was unbelievable.
Skeletor looked up at the star-strewn sky. "Why is this happening to me when I'm trying to do what's right?"
Skeletor stood looking over the cliff into a jungle very much like the one from his nightmare. Soon Lyn and the others would wake. He would still be standing there as he as he had been from the moment he returned over an hour ago. 'I will conquer these dreams,' he promised himself, 'or, Ancients be cursed, I won't sleep.'
