Eternia
Teela slammed the bowl down onto the counter, causing Chef Allen to glare at her with his beady black eyes, though the round man said nothing. She supposed she should apologize, but she was too lost in her own turmoil to bother at the moment.
"Stupid, stubborn, obstinate, blind, pig-headed," she muttered to herself.
"Forgive me Princess, but are you speaking of Prince Adam?" Chef Allen asked, half in challenge at the idea of Adam doing anything worthy of such words and half in surprise that she was having a verbal outburst in his presence.
"What? No, of course not," Teela snapped at him, her green eyes sparking. "My parents."
"What did they do?" Adam asked from behind, startling her as his warm hands wrapped around her bare shoulders. He leaned against her, breathing in her scent.
Teela sighed and relaxed against him. "It's what they didn't do. I invited them both to dinner with us, and they both said no. My father even had the audacity to tell me he didn't appreciate me trying to set him up with Mother." She crossed her arms haughtily. "How could he even know?"
Chef Allen snickered. "You ordered flowers and enough candles to light half the palace without any electricity before you made the invitation, Princess Teela. You know that rumors fly faster than winged horses around here."
Teela's shoulders slumped and she turned to dump sugar and butter into the large green bowl. "That's depressing, that I can't even place an order without everyone in the palace knowing." She began to cut the butter into tiny chunks with more force than necessary and mixed the tiny bits in the flour with a scowl of her face.
"Not everyone," the short chef disagreed. "But your father? Nothing escapes him."
"He's right," Adam agreed. He handed Teela the eggs. "We'll have to be much sneakier. But actually, I don't think just getting them together is going to work. They need some kind of shock to make them realize they care for each other."
Teela arched an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at her mouth as she mixed the batter. "You have an idea, don't you?"
"Who, me?" Adam asked innocently. Teela looked at his angelic face and couldn't resist. She grabbed a handful of flour and held it up.
"Tell," she said threateningly.
"But if I tell, they might find out," Adam protested, holding his hands up defensively. He felt a poke and craned his neck around to find Chef Allen holding a wood spoon to his back.
"I want to help," the chef said earnestly.
"You can," Adam promised with a mysterious grin as Teela slowly lowered her hand.
Carina
Keldor took a seat surrounded by rolls and rolls of parchment.
"About time you showed up," said the slender, frail historian as she hobbled to the shelves where her writing supplies were stored in a jumble of brushes and tiny ceramic pots.
"You're very welcome," Keldor snapped. "I'm glad you realize that I'm a busy person as a soon-to-be-father and that each moment of my time is precious."
"Ah so you admit it, then?" asked the historian, limping back to the table with her ink and brushes.
"What?" Keldor asked, irritation still clear in his voice. He was eager to be free of this annoying woman and her infuriating interest in "preserving the story" of this longed-for champion of Carina.
"You know, for a prince and supposed freedom fighter, you don't seem all that bright at times," she observed, pushing an errant gray whips in her salt and pepper hair behind a sun-browned ear.
"Woman you infuriate me. Will you just speak plainly for a change?" Keldor demanded, his eyes narrowed and his jaw twitching.
"As you wish," the woman said grandly, miming a curtsey from her seat across from Keldor. "You just said that each moment of your life is precious," the recorder emphasized each word with a jab of her ink covered brush toward Keldor, flecking small drops of ink on his arm. He leaned back to avoid the deep brown spray. "As a historian I just happened to believe the same thing about everyone. All moments of our lives are precious and should be recorded, for memory fades when ink remains."
'As I'm sure this will remain,' thought Keldor sullenly, wiping at the spots on his arm with the hem of his white tunic. Smearing, the stains only grew larger not lighter.
Keldor clenched his fist under the table and tried counting to ten.
Sensing that she should leave well enough alone while she could, the historian started with her questions. "The last time I was able to get you to come by you filled me in on your life until you felt your father betrayed you and you swore revenge on him and his new family. What happened next?"
Keldor forced himself to think of the trooper who defected from the Horde to save his life almost at the cost of her own. Telling this story could provide the key to the mystery of his survival of the purification ritual. 'Sarah, you owe me big time for putting up with this worrisome woman. I just hope we can figure out how to help you and the others.'
"I drifted for a while stealing and building a reserve of cash. I was able to steal some greater books of magical learning and teach myself the level of ordinary studies taught at most academies. I finally saved enough money to pay the Friane the exorbitant amount of money for their training as a warrior. For the members of this order a victory in a physical fight was a spiritual victory." Keldor shook his head. "Nobody could fight like a Friane," he said softly as he remembered the days and weeks he would practice the flick of a wrist or a posture until he was deemed proficient in the eyes of his severe instructors. They could charge more for their training and demand anything as they trained people to walk "the path of the warrior."
"I paid more than some small kingdom's yearly earnings for my instruction." Keldor trailed off for a moment. In the most intense moments of fighting, he had felt alive and free for the first time in years. All pains, all misery, all emotion, fled as he gloried in the mastery over his body and that of his opponent. With a shake of his head Keldor recalled how he used to scoff at his "master's" joy in a battle won. Yet now he realized that he had that same joy. The irony brought an amused quirk to his lips.
"I take it you enjoyed your training then?" the historian observed, looking up from her parchment.
Keldor nodded, then cleared his throat. Rushing to continue before the nosy woman could ask any more questions, Keldor said, "I grew bolder in my theft of magical artifacts and books, as I continued my warrior's training. I was completely trained in the art of fighting by my twenty-third year, and had learned more magic than most of other sorcerers my age, no matter their level of formal training." The blue mage rested his chin on his hand, once again caught up in his past. Driven: that's what he had been. Study and training had become his whole life because in those few moments when he was alone, idle memories came back to him. Memories that he had not fully contained. Memories that threatened his mission of revenge.
Keldor muttered softly, "I wish I had listened to them."
"Who?" the historian asked, her brush poised over her parchment.
Keldor ignored her question, though he could feel his stomach twisting in protest. His muscles tensed, but he would remember his regret without recording it on paper. Sometimes facts were worth the pain of withholding them. Keldor plowed on with his story, "I heard rumors that there was a lost citadel of a once-great sorcerer that contained great objects of power and forbidden knowledge. Locals informed me that it was haunted. I decided that they were simpletons. Like an unwary fool, I did not deem superstitious tales of ghosts worthy of any consideration."
"I crept into the broken down walls of a once-great manor and began rummaging through the rubble. But something about the entire set up didn't feel right. I knew something was going on beyond what I could see. I used some of the more advanced magic I had learned and was shocked to see the ruins transform in front of me. The ruins were just a façade. The dead sorcerer appeared from behind huge stack of books. Charred and burning books sent smoke throughout the room, hiding the shards of broken glass and splintered wood in the battlefield that was once his study by the time he defeated me. Somehow, I managed to impress him enough that he decided I would make a better slave than a corpse. Though he used the term apprentice." Keldor sneered at the memory. "He bound me to an almost complete obedience. I did learn a great deal from the grievous geezer. I was able to add to my skills daily. Working together, we planned to conquer his enemy—a witch nearby. She was so powerful and such a great enemy of this sorcerer that he faked his death to get away from her. This sorcerer wanted her to lower her guard in the hopes that she would grow careless. A tool of great power, a dimensional porthole, and several books of hidden knowledge were in her possession." Keldor sighed as he remembered. The sorcerer's eyes could not hide the lust he had for these objects of power he wanted. How soon Keldor himself had become just as driven to collect such things.
"So he and I worked for a great while on a plan to defeat her. What my Master did not know is that I had found a loophole in his spell of obedience, and had already arranged to betray him to this witch. I used my skills and spells from my time among the Alma'Odela to keep him unaware of my betrayal.
"I seduced and was seduced by this witch. I never cared for her anymore than she did me but she was a means by which I could increase my power and I took it gladly. I also took all the pleasure she could give which was considerable.
Keldor shook his head to clear this from his mind. She had been his first. He had been flustered and awkward as he attempted to win her with his charms. She had laughed at him and informed him that magic would not be the only thing that she would be teaching him in the years to come.
"Using some of the same magics I had used with the sorcerer, I spied on her. I was content to stay with her for several years, always learning more than she could possibly imagine by my own means and finally discovering a talisman of great power that she had been seeking for over 15 years. A ram's head made of a mystic moonstone coated in the blood of sacrifice, it was long ago cast away because of its great power and evil into another dimension. She was determined to find it, for it was said to make one's magic grow a hundred fold. I was all the more determined that I would have the tool. I seduced her one evening with the full intention of trapping her on her bed. I did just that. I mocked her as I left and told her that I had grown tired of her, and after a short trip through her dimensional mirror to retrieve the Ram's Head Talisman, I would be taking my leave of her for good.
"She was enraged, but I left the bedroom laughing, certain she would never be able to free herself from my bonds. Apparently she never truly trusted me either. Somehow she had made a talisman to counter any of my magic that she kept near her bed. I was already through the dimensional mirror when she was free. I heard her curse at me and tell me I would be trapped in that dimension forever with the ram's head. She threw a bolt of her power at the mirror breaking it and, with it, my link to Eternia."
"I knew enough magic by then to conjure food and even though the strange moon's magic was weak the talisman was as powerful as it was reputed to be, so I ate well and bided my time, learning to master this new tool."
"I cast a spell to draw any drifting ships nearby to me, and waited. Several months later I encountered a Horde ship. I returned to the Horde with the ship and joined immediately. This force conquered worlds and I wanted to learn from them. I quickly worked my way up through the ranks of the Horde and soon found myself as an in an officer's school of sorts. I was studying under Hordak, brother to Horde Prime, to be an overlord of a Horde-controlled world, though I never had any intention of ruling for the Horde's sake at first. Then I was told that my aid in conquering Eternia would lead to my rule of the planet. It was an offer I could not refuse. I chose to accept it. I had enough experience in the past with betrayal that I was content that I would find a way to throw off the Horde if they became an inconvenience."
"It was during an assault on a world called Etheria that I was injured. Half of my face had been ripped away by magic as I defended Hordak. I was dying and there was no healing spell that could save me. Hordak came to me and offered me a chance to heal if I took the power from the Mystic Dark Gem from Enzen 12. Struggling for my next breath convinced me that I should take his offer, in spite of the warning that it would exact a price. The power healed me of sorts. It added to my dark magic and enabled me to live fleshless as its power completely removed my face. It was peeling away the flesh of my neck when I begged that it be taken away from me. From that moment forward I became Skeletor: Overlord of Evil. I cast a spell that wiped the memory of Keldor from all who had worked with me before, and Hordak supported this as he allowed me to rise from role of pupil to honored apprentice in his army of evil. Several worlds later we were finally going to Eternia."
"When I learned of the power of Grayskull during the assault on Eternia I was sure I would be able to enact my revenge and take Eternia for my own only when I had this power. I wanted to keep my kingdom, and my planet. I wanted to answer to no one, not even Horde Prime. I would not share it with the Horde. Besides, I knew that the Horde would never want me back after I led the Eternian Royal family to Hordak. When we kidnapped Adora."
Keldor's voice trailed off and his face took on a look of pure misery. "I helped kidnap my own niece and caused my brother to know the pain of losing a child and never once till a few months before my purification did I feel bad about it. I was a monster! Are you happy historian? I was a monster. I led campaign after campaign against my brother—MY OWN BROTHER. Countless good men—good soldiers lost their lives because of my evil. I ruined life after life. Innocents who got in the way were hurt and maimed. I stole necessary resources for peoples to live. I was a vile, ruthless fiend! So tell me historian," Keldor demanded, pounding his fist on the table with such force that he upset a bottle of ink. "Tell me why did I survive when people who did nothing more than have the misfortune to be forced to serve the Horde who want to be cleaned can't survive? I just don't understand."
Keldor turned away sharply and looked out the window of the historian's office to hide the tears of regret he could no longer contain. "Why do I survive? Why do I have even a moment's happiness after all of my evil?" he whispered. He asked more loudly, "How can you think a moment of that past is precious?"
The historian looked up at Keldor calmly. "It is precious because it shows the power of Truth—of Good—to defeat even the greatest evil. You prove that no one can go too far into evil if they are willing to come back. As to why you are allowed to live, Keldor? Whenever you ask that you must remember what the Waters of Truth decreed you will do. Where you once enslaved, you will free. Where you once killed, you will heal. Where you once hated you will love, and in so doing show any and all who see, on whatever plane of existence he or she may be, that Good is and will always be stronger than evil because even the evil in you life will be used as tools to bring about greater goods.
"That wasn't what the Waters said," snapped Keldor, hands gripping the window seal.
"So blast me. I'm paraphrasing. Point is what I'm saying is True and you would know it if you would allow yourself to understand it."
Keldor balked at that. "What do you mean if I would allow myself to understand it?"
"I mean you have to take yourself out of the picture Keldor. You are not the end all and be all of your life anymore. Do you own your life now?"
"No," he said. "I gave it to the Truth."
"You knew that it was a forever commitment when you did it too, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Then think of it this way. You, the you who once was evil, laid your life down. You willingly gave yourself to a greater purpose, so why would you keep your heart from hearing the fact that Truth can make your life worthwhile in spite of your past? Because you want to punish yourself. If you belong to the Truth, you don't have the right to punish yourself, because you don't own yourself anymore."
Keldor stopped for a moment. She might have a point of sorts. The guilt did make him less effective as he tried to live his day to day life in service as a Truth Sworn. Yet somehow the pain of his purification didn't seem enough in his mind in spite of the reason in the historian's argument.
Seeing that he was going to be struggling with this no matter what she said, the scribe continued her questions. "Why did you Take the Waters, Keldor?"
"Because I couldn't be without the children. I knew that Lyn and Micah and Neara needed me. I knew that I could help the people of Carina. I had to survive for them and all of those people I could help."
"That's a powerful love," the historian muttered.
'Powerful love,' Keldor thought, stroking his chin. Something danced around at the corner of his brain. Something having to do with power.
He-Man. Adam mentioned over and over the power of love being greater than any other power. Perhaps that was the answer. 'Was it those I had to live for—my love for them—that gave me the strength to survive the waters? Maybe if I check with the other histories I can find the pattern,' Keldor thought, hope flaring.
Keldor turned quickly to the Historian. "I've told you a great deal of information today. More than I dratted desired. Now it's your turn. Assist me as we examine the histories of those who, after serving evil, survived the Waters."
Eternia
"Adam, Mekaneck, good to see you!" Chef Allen exclaimed. "I just finished baking some chocolate dragonberry cookies. Would you like some?" Chef Allen turned with an ivory platter piled high with steaming brown and ruby-spotted treats.
"Yes, please!" Adam said eagerly. He motioned for Meckaneck to take a seat. "We could smell them outside while we were training," he admitted.
Chef Allen grinned. "They're the prince's favorite cookie," he said to Mekaneck. "He used to come in here as a boy to try to swipe them before dinner."
Adam chuckled. "He gave them to me, too."
Mekaneck smiled. "They do smell good." He bit into the chewy chocolate cookie, the fruit pieces fairly exploding in his mouth. "Mmm," he hummed appreciatively.
Chef Allen smiled in satisfaction and turned to Adam. "Have you found anyone to fix Lana's walkway?" he asked, a sparkle lighting his small dark eyes.
Adam shook his head. "No. I keep thinking I'll be able to make time to do it myself, but Father's kept me incredibly busy lately." He took a swig of dragonberry tea that the chef had poured for them.
Mekaneck's face was mostly hidden by his large goggles, but Adam could see the twitch to his mouth that indicated he was confused. "Why don't you just hire someone?" he asked.
"I would prefer to send someone I know," Adam said. He reddened slightly. "The payment comes from me and Teela; I don't want someone I don't know swindling Lana out of an additional payment somehow."
Mekaneck swallowed his cookie. "I'll be happy to do it, and you don't need to pay me," he offered. "Philip went to visit some friends for the week; I'm at loose ends. I would appreciate something to occupy my free time."
"That would be great, Mek, but you have to let me pay you," Adam countered.
"No." Mekaneck shook his head firmly. "I like Lana. I don't know what kept her from Teela all those years, but I'm sure it wasn't her fault. She seems like a nice lady who could use a break." He cocked his head to one side. "Whatever happened between her and Duncan, anyway? I thought they'd get together after Orko's wedding."
Adam leaned forward, a slight smirk on his face. "I'm glad you asked that…."
Carina
Keldor and Lyn stood at the front of the chanting Truth Sworn surrounding the serene and sacred pool of his people. After much research, Keldor thought he had the key to helping these unlikely initiate survive their purification. A key that he owed in part to Lyn's ingenuity. It was after looking through all of the records of those who survived after the service to evil, that Keldor discovered that the key was the connection the people had to others. Their love was the link that kept them anchored to Carina when leaving this world and purification's pain was much easier.
Love. Love was the power that allowed one to survive the searing scrutiny and pain that sliced through flesh bone and spirit within the small pond containing the Waters of Truth. Keldor had discovered this link, but it was Lyn who suggested that mages among the Truth Sworn gather around the initiates before they enter the Waters and open a mental channel so that the initiates could feel the love the Truth Sworn had for them and the earnest desire they had that each initiate return to their number.
A group of Truth Sworn gathered around each man and woman, all former Horde soldiers, about to enter their purification. Lyn and Keldor joined the group surrounding Sarah Newson. As the chanting swelled, the mage in each group opened the mental link and allowed the love, support and acceptance of the order to flow into these. Many began to weep when they felt the intensity and care those who were once their enemies held for them.
Slowly the groups broke apart with Truth Sworn hugging these initiates one last time before they fell back into the group, leaving the initiates by the Waters.
The seven men and women stood before Antaris, and he began the ancient ritual of purification.
Keldor and Lyn gripped one another's hand tightly. This was the first time they were going to test Keldor's theory about helping former servants of evil survive the waters.
Keldor and Lyn held their breath as the former troops were raised to look at themselves above the waters. Like the wizard and his wife had, the initiates were weeping and moaning at their true state as shown them by the Waters.
Cacila asked the ritual question. When all had answered she removed her magic causing all of them to fall into the pool.
"I hope this works," Keldor whispered to Lyn. What he did not say is that he would feel overwhelmed with guilt if it did not. Yet somehow he and Lyn survive the waters. If love could give him strength to survive, surely anyone could survive with the power of love on their side.
The waters bubbles and churned with the brilliant light that came from a purification. Slowly, people began to rise out of the water coughing and crying, yet they came, all seven initiates, struggling their way toward the bank. Keldor and Lyn rushed toward them.
Soon all seven had pulled themselves from the Waters and the horrid H that once scarred all of their faces as a Horde soldier was gone. Replaced by beautiful and intricate lines of Truth Scores.
Keldor and Lyn gathered around Sarah. Sarah grabbed Keldor's hand. "It's going to be okay, you know?" she said weakly.
Keldor smiled hugely. "Yes," he said. "You're safe and…"
"No," she interrupted. "When you go home. It's going to be okay."
Keldor looked away uncomfortably.
"Look, at these marks," Lyn said, tapping Keldor's shoulder.
Keldor's grin returned and widened. On the back of Sarah's hand were marks that exactly matched—
"Jonas," called Lyn with a grin. "Come meet your wife, Sarah."
Jonas broke through the group around Sarah.
"Hi," he whispered, wonder etched on his features. "Again."
Sarah smiled weakly. "Hi."
"I've got her," Jonas said, lifting his new wife into his arms. Keldor helped Lyn get back to her feet.
"Do you need any help, Jonas?" called Keldor, wrapping his arm around his wife's swollen waist.
"I've got her," he called back quickly.
Keldor and Lyn chuckled. Usually several Truth Sworn would care for the newest initiates after they rose from the Waters. Purification was a traumatic process and many times having several members of the community to help the newest among their number was an advantage. Sometimes though, as in Jonas' case, the Truth Sworn had been waiting for his or her spouse for years. Jonas had been waiting and looking forward to his wife for over 12 years. Now that the Waters had delivered her to him, he would take care of her just fine and without help. He had waited too long for her to waste another minute away from her.