A/N: With everything going on in the world right now, I hope this update finds everyone safe and well. Please take care of yourselves and each other.
I proof for continuity, grammar and spelling. I work for an airline and as you can imagine, I'm a bit delirious with fatigue right now. If you catch any inconsistency, please let me know and I'll correct. Thanks for your readership. Stay safe.
Chapter 56
-Sit Room, Eternia -
"No sign of Lord Skeletor or the others, Your Majesty," Marcus stated. "My people along with The Masters Ram-Man and Sy-Klone are closely monitoring the ruins for any signs of life. At this moment the mighty Snake Mountain lies desolate."
Randor leaned back, an arm folded over his chest, pensively stroking his goatee. "Don't be fooled," he warned. "No doubt my brother lays low in preparation for another surprise attack. Sneaky bastard," he cursed under his breath.
The Commander gave a sharp nod. "Sire."
"Duncan, tell your Guard to stay vigilant about the Palace. Mrs. Stoley grows weaker by the day," he stated sadly. "I want her to see my son one last time…," his gaze searched the room, "And to perhaps look upon my daughter. Before she departs this world I want her to know she helped mend a broken family," he stated, his voice slightly breaking with emotion.
"Yes, Sire."
The King turned to Marcus and Hall. "We're done here. I must speak with Commander Duncan alone," he stated sharply. "Thank you both for your continued and exemplary service."
They stood and gave crisp military bows. "Your Majesty."
As the two filed out, the King and the Commander silently locked gazes.
The doors closed.
"Tell me about the sorcery," Randor asked.
Duncan's brows flew up. "Sire?"
Randor shook his head. "Don't give me that innocent Sire? response, Farrell. I know what I saw. We've known each other way too long and way too well to tolerate bullshit," he chided. "What's going on with Teela?"
The two men stared each other down, Man-At-Arms offering nothing. The King lifted a curious brow.
"Greyskull's got your tongue?"
"I'm afraid so," finally came the reply.
Randor took a deep breath, expelling it in frustration. "My wife and I know there's a final piece to the puzzle regarding that damn castle," he stated. "We had hoped Teela's destiny involved our family, but now we're afraid it may take quite a different path," he said somberly.
Silence.
The King's gaze narrowed. "Answer this: whatever your daughter's purpose, whatever her calling, will it involve our son?"
Duncan stared back. "Yes. But not in a way you may think."
More staring.
"Or…perhaps had hoped," Duncan added soberly, a hint of regret in his voice.
Frustrated, with a ragged breath Randor leaned back running both hands over his face. Dropping his hands to the armrests of his chair he tilted his head, his hazel gaze studying his friend.
"She's the new Sorceress."
His eyes wide, Man-At-Arms' mouth dropped open.
"And my heartbroken son will have to find another wife and new future queen."
"Yes," he replied pained. "Teela's awakening came very early," he began. "Although I gave Adam my heartfelt blessing to court Teela, her future continued to haunt me. It had been my hope that this destiny would pass to another so I granted it to him. I was bound to silence.
"Think about it," he continued, "What plausible explanation could I give Adam for denying his petition of courtship? The Crown Prince is the gold standard of men and he is already so much like a son to me. I was humbled and incredibly honored that he had selected my daughter."
Pausing, he looked at him. "No one knows she is the future Guardian of Greyskull, Randor."
The room sank into silence as the two would-be in-laws went pensive.
"Our children are bound by duty and tradition," the King stated thoughtfully. "Knowing the trying times ahead of them, Marly and I had rested in the hope that at least they would be happy in the love they found in one another, the comfort they would offer each other. Not years of constant separation in the endless effort of defending the Kingdom from evil."
His gaze drifting to the table, Man-At-Arms gave a sad nod as the King's hazel gaze studied him closely.
"So. How many years has it been for you?"
Duncan frowned. "What are you talking about, Randor?"
"I'm talking about your own separation. From your wife," he replied, stone-faced.
He felt a jolt.
Wife?
-Lower Level Dungeons, The Fright Zone -
The twins sat in protracted pensive silence, Adora cross-legged, Adam with his legs tucked to his chest, his arms loosely hooked around his knees. Furious, she glared at him.
"That was an incredibly stupid thing to do! Why did you come for me?"
"Why did you let yourself get captured?" Adam shot back lifting a brow.
His sister opened her mouth to reply then closed it knowing that was a very good question, one she had no answer for.
The two stared at each other before finally breaking into grins.
"You're kind of a smart ass, aren't you?"
He innocently pointed at himself.
"Yeah you!" she said with a half grin.
"I've simply got life figured out," he stated sarcastically.
Adora snorted a laugh. "Oh? Reeaally?"
Adam nodded. "Big brothers are supposed to know everything," he joked with a wink.
She knit her brow. "You're older?"
"Yes."
"I wouldn't have guessed it."
He knit his brow. "Meaning?"
"I just knew I was the older more mature one," she smirked.
Suppressing a smile Adam's brows flew up. "Are you implying I'm immature?"
"No need to imply. It's a statement of fact."
The crooked smile began to grow. "By what observation, pray tell?"
Comforted by the humorous exchange, Adora shrugged her shoulders. "You're full of attitude. Plus you look very young."
"We're the same age," he replied, totally confused.
"A-ha!" she said enthusiastically, a finger in the air. "I just got you to admit that technically, you're not my big brother. Therefore, we are on a level playing field."
Adam looked at her. "You're forgetting something."
"What?"
"Twins can't be born simultaneously, Sis. We've gotta come through that canal one at a time. I've got you by seven minutes," he teased arrogantly.
"Oh whatever," she dismissed, rolling her eyes before suddenly stiffening, Adam catching it.
"What?" he asked, concerned.
Sapphire met sapphire. "You said….Sis…," she trailed off.
"And?"
"I…I think it's finally hitting me."
Studying her features, he waited silently.
"You're…my brother," she said with quiet gravity, her voice tremulous.
Adam nodded. "We're family."
Adora's gaze drifted about the cell. "Family." Her gaze met his. "Tell me about them."
"Our parents?"
"Yes."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Maybe later," he admonished, his gaze moving about the dimly lit cell. "This place has eyes and ears."
Quickly sobering, his sister straightened. "Yes…yes you're correct. Collecting Intelligence is a key element in the art of war. Of course. Where is my head?"
Adam tilted his head, his eyes roving her features. Beautiful like Mom…tactical like Dad…
"Question."
Adora nodded.
"Why do you believe you're not worth saving?" he asked.
xxx
-Mess Tent, Whispering Woods -
"Where is Adam?"
"Not here," Bow replied, his eyes going back to his tin bowl.
Glimmer pursed her lips. "Obviously, Lance. I'm asking where he's wandered off to."
His eyes darting about, Hawk bit his lip, concerned his little impromptu confession may have been the reason for the Prince ditching them.
The two men quietly continued with their dinner, the Princess narrowing her eyes in suspicion.
"I order you two to cough it up!"
Hawk and Bow exchanged glances.
"He may have been offended by—" "He went to the Fright Zone—" - they blurted out together.
Confused silence.
"What?" they all blinked at one another.
Walking by with a tray of food, Shakra stopped.
"What's going on with you three?" she asked with a mother's concern, her brow furrowed. "You look utterly lost, which is not good for morale."
Regaining her composure the Princess jumped to her feet. "I've just received some distressing news about the Eternian Prince," she replied hurriedly, turning to leave as the men stood.
Worried, Shakra stared at her. "What kind of news?"
Glimmer stopped, her expression grave. "Prince Adam has foolishly gone to the Fright Zone. Alone."
Seemingly relieved, the older woman breathed a sigh. "Oh, is that all?" she replied with a small smile. "Don't be alarmed, he is not foolish. He can handle Hordak," she reassured walking away.
The three younger people simply stared at her retreating back.
"Yes. Wife."
Stiffening in his chair, Duncan scowled. "I'm unmarried, Randor."
"Of course you aren't," came the sarcastic reply accompanied by a smirk, the other man's eyebrows lifting in surprise.
"You know I swore an oath never to marry," Duncan explained. "For centuries, the eldest male selected for royal service in the Duncan-Balmoral Family always took the oath never to take a wife or sire children. Making the Kingdom priority has always been paramount."
"Paramount?" Randor eyed him. "Love is a powerful component of existence, my friend. Maybe somewhere along the way you got tired of not having a life."
Offended, Duncan frowned. "I indeed have a life. It's my honor to serve at the pleasure of the King—"
"There are other pleasures," Randor cut him off, "Like appreciating the mind, body, and soul of a good woman."
They held each other's gaze.
"I take my vows very seriously, Your Majesty," Duncan replied proudly. "I am responsible for the safety of the Royal Family, not to mention all who dwell within the Palace and the Dignitaries who traverse its gates daily. Never in my wildest dreams would I entertain the concept of frivolity when Eternia's welfare is at stake."
The King stared at him, a memory concerning Farrell's mysterious brief and unexplained disappearance twenty-one years ago entering his thoughts: Duncan had been found incoherent and barely clothed, shaking from near frostbite and malnutrition underneath snow covered brush in the Evergreen Forest. Suffering from amnesia, no one since has ever spoken of the incident in the interest of protecting their beloved friend's dignity.
"Sire?"
Randor shook his head as if to clear it. "Nothing," he waved off. "You're right my friend. I'm sorry I offended you with my silly questions."
Man-At-Arms blinked in confusion. "It's…it's alright, Friend. Not silly. Your probing is simply a result of you having my best interests at heart," he said with a small smile. "But no need for concern. I am happy. Happy and content, Sire."
The King smiled as he leaned over clapping a hand on the other man's shoulder.
"That is paramount, Farrell."
-Later That Day -
Pondering the King's suddenly odd line of questioning, Man-At-Arms entered the infirmary, his expectant gaze locking with an angry emerald.
Arms crossed, Teela sat upright in bed, her expression hot.
"Don't you have something to tell me, Daddy?" she asked sharply.
He looked her square in the eye. "No, Daughter."
Indignant, her mouth fell open, her arms releasing and dropping to her sides. "This is ridiculous! How do I just—" her eyes quickly darted to the door before lowering to a whisper, "—how do I all of a sudden just begin shooting fire and ice out of my palms and fingertips?" she demanded, her expression scared and confused.
He furrowed his brow. "Have you asked the Sorceress?"
She blew out an exasperated breath. "Yes."
"And what did she say?"
"Nothing. Just kind of stared at me from the window. It was eerie."
Moving closer, he sat on the edge of her bed, his gaze direct. "It's not my secret to tell, Teela. One day, perhaps you will know...perhaps not. At this moment however, I'm bound to a vow of silence."
Frustrated, Teela's gaze darted past him. "Sometimes I just want to blab to the world everything I know just to unload this burden!" Her eyes met his. "I'm so tired of secrets, Father."
"I'm sure you are," he replied reaching out a hand to brush an errant auburn bang from her forehead, "But Dearest, secrecy is a necessity at times. It serves as protection; when matters are hidden for the right reasons of course."
Her gaze moved away from him. "Adam knows."
Duncan straightened. "Knows what?"
"He said something today that alluded to his foreknowledge."
Confused, her father squinted his eyes. "Foreknowledge of? And what do you mean, 'today'? The Prince is still on Etheria."
Sheepish, she looked at him. "He and I discovered we can communicate telepathically."
Shocked, Duncan inhaled sharply.
"Isn't it obvious, Brother?"
"No."
Adora guffawed. "I'm the enemy, Adam. I was raised by Etheria's Brutal Conquerer and trained in the ways of The Horde," she stated dejectedly. "I dutifully without questions asked carried out its greedy and murderous commands by rounding up and incarcerating everyone young and old. Innocent, beautiful people," she lamented, her eyes welling with tears, "Decent and upstanding citizens who possessed the right to live their lives in peace and freedom – all of whom I sent to the mines, the slave trades…to their deaths!" she explained, her voice tremulous with grief ending in horrified crescendo.
She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling as she struggled to stave off an emotional breakdown with Adam watching her, his heart breaking over the familiar grief and remorse…the pain over the realization of the dreadful choices made as a result of a complicated and dismal childhood overwhelming her.
He knew it well.
Quietly, he scooted closer.
Taking her in his arms, her head rolled to his shoulder as she nestled within his protection, the dam completely breaking loose, the emotion and tears coming on like rushing waters.
Adora sobbed uncontrollably as wisps of her life flew past her memory like moments frozen in time…terrible moments…horrible moments.
Moments she treated people as if they were nothing more than commodities to be sold and traded.
Judging, punishing, condemning people because they didn't live up to a standard…a standard she now knows was a lie.
The arrogance. The control. The cruelty.
"By The First Ones…I'm worthless. I deserve death," she sobbed hopelessly into her brother's shoulder.
Silence as her cries filled the stark empty cell, his features pained, Adam's empathetic arms tightening around her, he gently stroking her arm in comfort.
She lost track of time, the protracted silence allowing her reflective tears to run their course for now; she knowing many more were to come…but not knowing when.
They sat together for what seemed forever.
xx
Finally –
"I was raised by an abusive alcoholic child rapist," she heard him say.
Confused, she lifted her head, her teary gaze meeting his empathetic ones. "What?"
"My foster father," Adam added sadly, his eyes settling on hers. "He had a troubled childhood and took it out on my foster mother and me. After our kidnapping, you were delivered to Hordak. I was delivered to Ernest Ilyud."
Adora stared at him, her brow knit in sorrow. "I think I…I saw you when we were kids...saw some of your horrors."
He nodded. With a broken smile, Adam gently brushed her thick disheveled locks from her tear stained face. "I'd always believed I was trash, too. Worthless. Nothing. For the first ten years of my life I refused to speak. Trusted no one and communicated with my fists. Didn't understand that I meant something to someone out there. All I knew was violence…starvation. Neglect."
"Hera…," she whispered with a sniffle.
"I didn't know it until much later, but living with Mom and Dad taught me unconditional love and acceptance. I didn't have to perform to earn their love. They simply loved me because I was their son," his gaze bore into hers. "And they love you too, Sister. Dearly. It doesn't matter what you believed…what cult you were part of…what you've done. You're their daughter. Their hearts aren't whole without you."
She blinked in confusion. "I…I don't understand love."
Adam snorted. "Neither did I." He made a face. "Well, I should probably say neither do I," he chuckled softly. "I'm not there yet. I have a ways to go but I have a better understanding of love. I still struggle; mostly with rage. I have flare ups. I allow someone to trip my fuse and I go off." He locked gazes with her. "Notice that I said allow..."
Pensive, his sister nodded.
"It sucks right now," he continued, "But it slowly gets better. You did things, Adora. Terrible things. So did I. We made awful choices. But gradually you'll come into understanding. You can still be forgiven and in turn, forgive your perpetrators."
"I don't understand," she replied confused.
"I know..."
Adam tenderly kissed his sister's temple. "I know."
Silence.
"The answer is…because I love you."
Bewildered, Adora pulled back. "What?"
"Your question earlier."
"What question?"
He gave a small smile. "Why I was stupid enough to come get you," he snorted using air quotes.
She stared at him. "You barely know me. Why do you love me? What is love?"
"There isn't enough time to discover the meaning of life right now," he joked, his gaze searching the cell. "We'll both learn together." Gently releasing her, he stood to his feet, Adora following. "Right now, we've got to—"
"Isn't that quaint?" an eerie voice hissed from the shadows.
The twins whirled around, Shadow Weaver materializing beyond their iron bars.
"Brother and Sister sharing cozy one-on-one time together," she mocked in sing-song. "And poor little Adora playing the victim. Again." She folded her bony arms. "Just remember; we would not have been able to manipulate you so easily had you not already possessed a myriad of evil tendencies embedded deep within your psyche, Child."
Adam rolled his eyes at the familiar narcissistic tactic.
Off center, Adora silently watched the woman she once considered a mother figure, someone she looked up to and wanted to emulate, what little was left of her self-confidence fading in her growing self-doubt.
She was so deceived. How could she have allowed herself to be so brainwashed? To trust these two so implicitly?
Adora bit her lip.
She was no judge of character. Perhaps there was some truth to Weaver's accusations—
"Don't believe it, Adora," Adam's harsh directive slicing through her ramblings, he sensing her emotions. "It's all manipulative bullshit."
"Silence!" she shrieked, whipping out a bony palm.
Adora screamed as Black Death shot forth hitting Adam square in the chest sending him flying backward against the cement wall.
Absorbing the blow, his body slid down the wall and slumped to the floor, his sister lunging toward him as a red burst of energy hit her mid-step, freezing her where she stood.
"No more heroics tonight, Child," she taunted, keeping the one palm on Adora as the other palm stretched forth forcing her unconscious brother to his feet.
Waving her arm, glowing red restraints materialized around Adora as Adam, still unconscious and head lowered, slowly walked forward under the witch's power.
"I have plans for you, My Prince," she teased, her serpent-like tone hissing with delight. "Power Transfer is very pleasurable. And if you are anything like your Uncle…," she cackled low, her glowing eyes raking over him, "I am sure I will enjoy every scintilla of it."
"Where the hell are you taking him?" Adora demanded.
"To the chambers in Cell Block Five," the witch replied.
His eyes popping open Adam suddenly halted, his angry gaze settling on the woman.
Shadow Weaver guffawed. "I have never seen anyone break my spell so quickly," she stated in awe. "Your will is strong, My Prince. I must first break you down," she mused. "Power Transfer will not work unless your will is engaged, my boy. If your body is broken, the mind will inevitably follow."
Shit, Adam's anxious mind spat.
Did she say, My Prince? Adora pondered confused.
xxx
Filled with worry and desperately developing a plan of escape for them both, Adora sat alone on the floor as the dim lights of their cell flickered from the disruptive energy happening down the hall.
Sounds of her brother's tortured and pain filled screams haunted her.
