"So, what can I do for you today, performer?" Shadow Weaver greeted as she casually spread herself out on the couch in Double Trouble's office, "You seem stressed. Perhaps you have need of one of my concoctions to soothe your soul? Earl Grey? No, I think Vanilla Rooibos would be more to your taste."
With a wave of her hand, Shadow Weaver drew pitch black spectres from the dark corners of the room onto the table between them, which materialized into a immaculate porcelain teacup and saucer.
"I am perfectly fine, Shadow Weaver," explained Adora, holding out their hand to politely decline, "I'm here to help you, remember?"
"Well, thank you, my dear," Shadow Weaver replied, picking up the saucer to sip at the tea herself, "But I do not require your help. I am only here under orders of our gracious queen in the hopes that I might prove worthy of her trust."
"Do you believe you are worthy of that trust?" Adora asked, writing something down on their notepad.
"I live to serve," declared Shadow Weaver, placing her hand over her chest in a false bow, "It is my fatal flaw."
"In that case, maybe it would help if we talked about your time in the service of the Sorcerer's Guild of Mysticore," suggested Adora, "Back when you were known as Light Spinner."
"Not much to say, I'm afraid," Shadow Weaver stated briskly, "My time in Mysticore was consistently miserable."
"By all means, Mysticore was a place you spent a long period of your life," Adora argued, taking out a picture from her bag and handing it to the sorceress, "Are you sure you don't have more you want to go over from that period?"
Shadow Weaver sighed as she looked at the photograph. Two familiar piercing green eyes stared back, a pale dark face covered a bright red veil, surrounded by luxurious black hair. The woman that would become Shadow Weaver was in the center of a diverse group of wizards, mages and enchanters that surrounded her, holding a large rock covered in runes, which in the Etherian tongue read, 'We demand to be taken seriously!' It took Shadow Weaver less then a second to grow bored and casually toss the framed picture into the wall behind her, smashing against it with a hard clink.
"An academy of dottering old men and their mewling sycophants," Shadow Weaver commented, "A failed institution corrupted by nepotism and cowardice."
"And yet, you chose to learn and teach there," observed Adora, writing another note down, "Why is that?"
"Chose..." Shadow Weaver repeated, chuckling to herself, "As if there was anywhere else for me to go. Magic was a talent held by only a very select few and the Guild guarded their secrets very closely, only accepting the most promising of Etherians. By which, of course, I mean only those wealthy and politically connected enough to afford it."
"And you've made it very clear what a hard life you've lived every time I talk to you," asked Adora, "How did you end up joining them?"
"I showcased my talents to Master Norwyn personally," boasted Shadow Weaver, casting a small shadow creature in the palm of her hand before crushing it into her fist, "...among other... indignities I was forced to suffer in his service. I must admit, I considered it something of a personal triumph when I killed him."
Adora cocked an eyebrow in interest.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," Shadow Weaver admonished the therapist, "You, of all people, must know what it takes to get ahead in this world. I did not have blood relations to a princess or a noble family to take me in. I had to struggle for every last scrap of respect I rightfully earned. Do you think I would have been known as Mysticore's most powerful sorcerer if I didn't have the talent to support my ambitions? But talent alone is not enough to get by in Etheria."
"I'm only here to help you," Adora stated matter of factly as they wrote down another note, "It's not my place to judge."
"I would hope not," Shadow Weaver threatened, the white eyes of her mask narrowing at Adora, "There is a saying amongst Etherians. A woman must work twice as hard to get half as much. A simplistic notion. The truth is much more disappointing, I'm afraid. We must work much harder to get far less."
"But you weren't the only woman in Mysticore," Adora corrected, continuing to write on their notepad, "I thought there were, like, a ton of sorceresses. I believe the guildmaster is now Master Castaspella, is she not?"
"A pitiable excuse of a magician if I ever saw one," Shadow Weaver criticized, "A pathetic talentless hack riding off the coattails of her brother and inlaws who I wouldn't trust to perform for a child's birthday party. Because the heaven's forbid, a woman make it on her own merits and not on her relation to another man. Every Queen needs a King, after all. Don't you think there is a reason the Horde never considered her Mysticore to be a true threat? Or why our beloved Queen chose to come to me and not her own aunt to teach her magic?"
"I think Mysticore's aversion to your so-called 'Dark Arts' might have had something to do with it," Adora noted, scribbling a quick note down.
"'Dark Arts'..." Shadow Weaver repeated derisively, "It is just another way the guild claimed power through their adaptive vocabulary. I make plans to protect Etherians and they call me Manipulative, Norwyn schemes to secure his own worthless position and they call him Calculating. I take great personal risks to improve my abilities and I am seen as Covetous, Micah seizes whatever power he can from the princesses to become King and they call him Ambitious. I so much as raise my voice and I am called Shrill, Hordak roars angrily at his officers like a spoiled child and is seen as Commanding. No wonder Mysticore made Castaspella their Guildmaster, she's far too weak to be ever considered a threat to the other wizards' precious egos. She's their perfect little mouthpiece."
"So what made you finally leave to join the Horde?" asked Adora.
"I had originally planned to destroy the Horde," Shadow Weaver corrected, "True, I had my misgivings towards Etheria as a whole and the Guild in particular. But at the time, there was little good to be seen from the invading conquerors that sought to seize our world. And back then, I still had some fleeting hope. My faithful student Micah appeared to see the world for what it truly was. And so I invited him to join me in plotting a way to stop the Horde in their tracks. Unfortunately, he lacked the courage necessary to completely overcome the guild's programming. A regrettable mistake on my part. At the last second, he betrayed me."
"How did he betray you?" queried Adora.
"Micah and I worked to modify a spell of obtainment to summon a shadow from the netherworld that would allow us to consume magical energy from the Horde. During the ritual, the creature broke free and attacked us. Micah did not even hesitate to abandon me to it. Understandable for such a young naive creature, to be fair. I do truly harbor no ill will toward him, apart my great disappointment in him. But it was then I realized that nothing in Etheria was worth saving from the Horde. So went to the Fright Zone to grovel Hordak. He saw my value to the Horde immediately. The Horde did not have any magic users to call their own, so they tasked me with studying Horror Hall's runestone, the Black Garnet. Rather fortunate on my part seeing as the runestone was the only way to satiate my never ending hunger for magical energy. The botched ritual had left a dark pit in my soul, never to be filled."
"You seem to be doing fine without it right now," Adora observed as they continued writing.
Shadow Weaver glared silently at Adora through her mask before taking another sip of tea.
"When Catra severed my connection to the Black Garnet, it almost killed me," Shadow Weaver told her therapist, "I spent weeks in a Fright Zone prison cell, slowly starving to death. I had been attempting to wean myself off the addiction for years, but none of the usual healing spells would cure me of my condition. If I was to survive, I would have had to do something desperate. I escaped my imprisonment and made my way to Brightmoon to surrender myself to the Princess Alliance. I saw the reports that Adora had managed to use an as-of-yet unheard of ability to heal the lands of Plumeria after the Horde had poisoned the earth there using the power of the Black Garnet. It was a long shot, but she was my only chance, if not for survival, then at least revenge. I was going to make Adora try to heal me, but if she couldn't, I was going to tell her the truth about everything. Everything she would need to defeat Hordak."
"So that was the third time you chose the wrong side," Adora translated, "And I thought I switched roles alot."
"I did what I always did, only what was necessary to survive," Shadow Weaver declared, "That is the one lesson I hoped to instill in my children. I debased myself before Master Norwyn so I could have the power to protect myself. I killed him and joined the Horde to survive off of the power of the Black Garnet. I fled the Fright Zone to throw myself at Brightmoon's mercy because that was my only chance at mercy after Hordak betrayed me. Don't you dare tell me you would have done any different in my position."
"Fair enough," Adora noted, a small smirk forming on her lips, "You say that Hordak betrayed you. Like Micah did. Except this time, you appear to have taken it much more personally."
Shadow Weaver sighed as she put her cup and saucer back down on the table before sinking back down into the couch.
"When I arrived in the Fright Zone," Shadow Weaver recollected, "Hordak did not see my gender, my disfigurements, my weaknesses. He only saw the power I wielded that he could put to use. At the time, it was a most refreshing change from the social quagmires of Mysticore. Hordak only saw me for my value to him. No more, no less. I suppose that is what attracted me to him in the first place."
"That's an... interesting choice of words," Adora commented, "You found yourself *attracted* to Hordak."
"Well, what can I say?" admitted Shadow Weaver with a shrug, "A woman still has her needs to satisfy, even if she has turned herself into an all consuming parasite. But when I made clear my intentions to form a closer relationship with the dark lord, he took me into his sanctum to set me straight in private. As I lay on the floor of his laboratory, unable to even breathe, he told me plainly that I was not his lover, his surrogate child or even his friend. I was his subject and I would serve him as he saw fit. And after that, the moment he could find someone else able to do my job better than I could, I would be nothing to him. After that, he turned the atmosphere back on, picked me up off the ground and sent me away. The experience left me cold, but at the very least I would always knew where I stood with him... or so I thought at the time."
"And that changed at some point?" Adora concluded, as they wrote down another note.
"Near the end of her training, I had made a number of mistakes regarding my care for Adora," Shadow Weaver explained, "It was shortly after I found out Micah had managed to marry and impregnate the young Brightmoon princess when Hordak had found her while investigating a spacial anomaly in the Whispering Woods. He gifted her to me to take care of. She would have been the perfect soldier for him. Cunning, brave, strong. If only she hadn't left me. I would have given anything to have her back. But everything I did only served to push her away. In the end, Hordak grew tired of my constant string of failures and finally pulled the trigger on his threat. Taking the Black Garnet from me was bad enough. But the person he gave it to..."
Shadow Weaver's clenched her fists as she tried to breathe deeply to calm herself down.
"Someone so... young..." Shadow Weaver seethed, "...so pretty... a Princess nonetheless. That was when I realized the truth of what he meant when he took me into his chambers, that I was just an ugly, old witch that was too unappealing to ever be cared for by anyone. I had deceived myself into thinking that Hordak was different, that he only cared about results, about merit. But the truth is he was exactly the same as the disgusting old men I had fled from in Mysticore, thinking only with his tool."
Shadow Weaver picked up the tea cup and took one final swig of tea, spilling a bit of the warm liquid onto her mask.
"Oh, blast!" Shadow Weaver cursed, pulling out a hankerchief from her robes, "If you would excuse me, I haven't shown my face to anyone in a very long time."
"Of course," Adora said, looking away to focus on their notepad.
As Shadow Weaver removed the mask and put it on the table to wipe it clean, Adora snuck a peak at the exposed face of their client. Her piercing green eyes gazing intently at the mask in front of her, her pale dark skin had somewhat wrinkled with age, but still looked perfectly clear.
"I was told you wear a mask to hide your scars from the accident in Mysticore," remarked Adora absentmindedly.
"Yes, I know!" Shadow Weaver snapped in frustration, "Don't worry, you won't have to look at them soon enough..."
"Have you..." began Adora with a look of confusion, "Have you looked in a mirror... since Adora healed you?"
"Of course, I do," Shadow Weaver said, returning the mask to her face, "I don't need you to comment on my appearance. I know how hidious I look. I see it everyday."
"Interesting," noted Adora as they scribbled something else down, "I think that's enough for today. You've given me plenty to go over before our next session."
"Very well, then," Shadow Weaver said, getting up to leave, "Until next time, performer."
~*~
DT's Notes
Shadow Weaver, Session 2
-Going to ask that Catra and Adora sit this one out, I think they're both still too close for comfort in terms of making progress.
-However, I think I know the perfect face to get Shadow Weaver to open up
-Hostile to treatment, cooperating out of obligation to Queen Glimmer
-Negative feelings towards Mysticore, accusations of corruption and nepotism
-So apparently the sorcerer's guild brings new meaning to the term, "Casting Couch", yikes.
-Very serious accusations of misogyny and sexism within the Sorcerers Guild, plausible but will need to verify because... Shadow Weaver
-Negative feelings towards Glimmer's aunt, feelings of jealousy and resentment towards her position in the Guild
-Claims to have no ill feelings towards Micah... will need to go over this in a later session.
-Unrequited romantic feelings towards Hordak
-More feelings of jealousy, this time towards Entrapta, are Adora and Micah the only people Shadow Weaver doesn't despise?
-And apparently, Shadow Weaver has a severe case of facial dysmorphia