Author's Note: Hello everybody! I am so sorry for that huge delay. As it turns out, law school is really hard. Who knew? Sadly, I can't promise another update quickly, but know that I am still working on this story and love it with all my heart. You, the readers, are a huge part of why I adore (get it?) this fic so much and I honestly cannot thank y'all enough for the support I've gotten!

Also, I wanted to warn that this chapter discusses suicidal thoughts at length and more in-depth than previous chapters. I don't think that should come as a huge shock given the content of my fic and what issues it tackles. However, I want everyone to be safe and feel comfortable here, so please make sure you're okay with reading about that before proceeding. I will probably not warn again for this kind of content (unless specifically asked), so assume this content warning will also apply to future chapters.

Also, I'm still aiming for Thursday as being my post day, but I might delay by a day or two (as was the case for this chapter).

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 21: The Forever War

"I can't believe I actually have to say this, but I'm not killing Hordak."

"Well, why not, Princess Adora?"

Were they really having this conversation right now? It would be off-putting anywhere to so casually discuss murder, but in front of so many people? What was her game? "Oh, I don't know, because I'm not a killer?"

"Has he ever seen a day of justice? Met a victim's gun? Stood where you stood? Been forced to stay when all he wanted to do was run? Something tells me the answer to all my questions is no." Adora wanted to disagree, wanted to point out that justice had indeed been distributed according to Etherian tradition. But another memory came up, a memory of a gala last year when Hordak showed up and turned the whole affair into a monochromatic version of itself by simply being present. She hadn't seen him in years and the rug still got pulled out from under her when they made eye-contact across the ballroom.

"Your silence is telling, Princess," Evangeline said, "And it's not just you that was a victim. And not just every victim is She-Ra. So, don't you think you owe it to everyone else to do something? Not everyone has the power to seek justice. But you do. Doesn't that mean something to you?"

What came out was, "I'm not killing Hordak." But what she really wanted to say was, "Fuck you." Catra's gentle hand on her forearm stopped her from adding her most aggressive thoughts, but she still managed to say through clenched teeth, "Of course it means something to me. But justice doesn't have to be distributed by a sword. And redemption doesn't have to be paid in blood. Look at Shadow Weaver. She died and it still feels like she got away with everything."

Evangeline hummed thoughtfully before saying, "I see your point. But that was a death of her own choosing. It's not the same thing."

"I don't know how many times I have to say this, but I'm not killing Hordak."

"Okay, okay," Evangeline said, raising her hands in defeat, "I can see I'm not going to convince you. But I'm telling you, Adora. When I killed the Head Mistress, it felt like I woke up to a whole new world. A better one."

"And how did you kill this person, Your Majesty?" Catra asked.

The muscles in Evangeline's jawline twitched as she swung her attention to Catra. "People."

Catra blinked a few times, then said, "I'm sorry, I'm not following, Your Majesty."

"You said, 'This person,' and I'm telling you the whole situation was plural, Princess Catra. People were killed, and each and every one of them deserved it."

"Ah," Catra said slowly, "I see."

"Do you?" The Queen stood once more, unable to sit in a chair for even five minutes. Adora couldn't decide if she felt leaden exhaustion from the contents of their conversation or simply because she had to keep up with Evangeline's frenetic movements around the room. "I know a little bit about you, Princess Catra, and I'm not sure how well you understand."

"Is that so, Your Majesty?" Catra asked, "May I ask how you apparently know so much about me?"

"Your reputation precedes you, Princess," Evangeline said, walking once more to a window, "Former second-in-command of the Evil Horde casts a long shadow, wouldn't you say? And your Princess has quite a lot to say about you in dreams."

Catra glanced at Adora, but her expression was incomprehensible. Adora tried to mouth, 'She's bullshitting,' but Catra gave no indication she'd seen. But it was true, Evangeline was bullshitting. Adora had said little about Catra in their shared dreams. Her anxiety about letting her down had come up, but who could realistically say that they didn't worry about how their actions, their choices affected their family? Beyond that, she'd said virtually nothing. No, those dreams slashed Adora open, left her vulnerable to attack. It'd been selfish at the time. Her own personal escape that neglected to include Catra or the kids. Now, it was perhaps the dreams' only saving grace.

"I've fought for a long time. Fought so hard against my childhood and the people in it. But I did so silently, for an even longer time. Too long. That silence was the nail in my coffin," Evangeline said, uncharacteristically quiet, "I thought it would be over one day, and in many ways it is. But in others, it's my forever war." She put a hand on the window, almost as if she was bracing herself. "I admire people like you, Princess Catra. You took your hurt out so publicly, so violently, so early, that I know it has to be different for you."

"You know that? Really?"

"Perhaps I can't say that I know for sure. But I know people like you. They got it out so easily. They wear their black heart on their sleeve. Their rage spills from them in the most obvious ways. I've watched these people for a long time. I envied the cage that did not contain them. So vicious and brutal and free. While I battened down the hatches, they unfurled their hurt for the whole world to see. When I choked on my truth, they passed theirs out for free. You seem like one of these people. You were so wounded, you wanted everyone to take note. Adora is so hurt, she doesn't want anyone to see her. Do you see the difference, Princess? Do you see why I think you can't understand what silent suffering does to a soul?"

"Leave her alone," Adora said. Now, it was her turn to ball her fists and let her anger bubble to the surface.

"Interesting…" The Queen rubbed at her chin while looking between Adora and Catra.

Evangeline's guard captain put a hand on his sword and stared at Adora with an intensity that would've been intimidating had she not been She-Ra. But she was and his display felt more suicidal than anything else. He'd be the first to go. A spear through his heart and then she'd do the same to the other guard standing next to him. It would take seconds, faster than anyone could process, save herself and Evangeline.

"What is?" Adora asked.

"You're so quick to defend Princess Catra and so silent when it comes to yourself. Do you love her that much? Or do you love yourself so little?"

"It can't be both?" Adora said, causing Evangeline's eyebrows to rise. Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but it felt important to not get bullied into silence.

"Can we bring the temperature down just a little?" Bow said, "I get things are…complicated, but there is plenty of middle ground for us to find."

"I couldn't agree more, King Bow. You must forgive me for my prying, Princesses. I mean no offense," the Queen said with an easy, apologetic smile, "When I like someone, I can be a little…intense. And I do like you, Princess Adora. Even the anger. Even the sadness. You wear it all so well. No complaints. No sobbing confessions. You just take it. It's so easy to forget that you were the victim of one of the world's earliest, and worst, truths."

Adora shouldn't ask. The answer, no matter what it was, had all the comfort of almost every truth. And that was almost none. Yet, she heard herself say, "And what truth is that?"

The Queen turned around then, drummed her fingers against the window glittering with gray, summer rain. Adora couldn't help but stare at the scars lining her back. Had it just been one punishment that mutilated her, or a variety doled out over the years in a barrage of viciousness?

Evangeline cleared her throat, then said, "The world likes to eat up pretty, little blonde girls with no parents." When Adora had no ready reply, she continued, "I hate this story. Its longevity and its far-reaching nature chills me to the bone. Would you believe me if I told you I've had this conversation before?"

"I'd believe you." And she did. It was an odd story, but not an uncommon one.

Evangeline nodded, almost to herself, before saying, "I thought you would. How awful I can say that. Strange, the things that people will do when they find out that you're both powerful and naive and forgiving. You had all three in spades, my friend. No wonder you didn't stand a chance." The muscles in her back tensed and her fingers continued to move rhythmically against the window.

"I held my own," Adora said, her anger once again rising from its shallow grave.

"Yes, you did. And I admire you for that. But it's not about holding your own, is it? You shouldn't have had to hold your own in your home. You shouldn't have to punch yourself out of situations when you're just a kid."

"And yet here we are. And the truth is that it did happen," Adora said, before adding quietly, "So I try to forget it anyway I can."

The Queen turned around, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, "And how's that working for you?"

Adora jerked her chin up, ready to come out swinging with some verbal takedown but Evangeline's eyes held no contempt, no smug glint. Whatever words that were ticking down into a yelling match disarmed in the Queen's tired look. "It didn't work for me, either," Evangeline admitted. Here it came–her insistence on killing Hordak. Adora gritted her teeth, ready for another circular conversation. "You know, some people think we'd be better off dead."

Adora blinked. Where was this all going? If not Hordak, then where? "Maybe they're right."

Evangeline's eyebrows rose once again, but she continued as if she'd never heard Adora. "They say we're too powerful, we're too…uncontrollable. We've got too many demands on us and not enough time. It's not like our immortal counter parts, who have all eternity to fuck things up and then put them back together. From the moment we're born, we're already running out of time."

"Speaking of being born, where are you from, Princess Adora?" A woman sitting next to Queen Evangeline's empty seat asked. Adora couldn't remember her name or titles, but her shock of white hair on her relatively young face did stand out in the earlier introductions.

"Nocturna…" Evangeline started.

"You're right, Your Majesty, Princess Adora doesn't feel like she's from Etheria. The colonies have a certain…how do I say this? Aura. And you don't have it, Princess. So where are you from? Really?" Nocturna's pale blue eyes, paler than Adora's, stared icily. The hard line of her mouth twitched, and it was over. No matter what Adora said. No matter what she did. She was caught.

"I'm from Etheria and—"

"Speak the truth now, Princess," Nocturna growled, "You won't make any friends by lying."

"Nocturna," Evangeline hissed, "You must forgive my counsel, Your Majesties, Prince, Princesses. Sometimes they forget who they're speaking to."

As if she didn't hear, Nocturna said, "You're from Eternia, aren't you, Princess Adora? I couldn't quite pin you down, but I finally figured it out. A powerful, blonde warrior who just happens to be forty-eight? The same age that the Lost Imperator would be? That's quite a coincidence? No?"

"That would be quite the coincidence," Adora said. Catra's hand gripped Adora's thigh and her claws lightly pricked her skin. It was all coming out too fast, too one-sided. They were unraveling Adora in an afternoon. Maybe Catra was right. Maybe they should've left when they had the chance.

Evangeline stepped carefully towards the table; her expression unreadable. "Blonde hair, blue eyes," she muttered under her breath. She stopped at the end and put her hands on her hips. "Princess Nocturnal is right, isn't she? You were supposed to be the Imperator. You were supposed to be standing here, in my shoes."

Adora swallowed but didn't see a way out. She could lie, but the truth would come out eventually. If she owned up to it now, at least she could exert some control. "I was born on Eternia. In a tiny fishing village off the Emerald Sea. And from the moment I was born, I was supposed to be the Imperator. I was supposed to live and die on Eternia. But it never happened. You're right, I am the Lost Imperator." She pinched the bridge of her nose and hoped they wouldn't ask the obvious—What was she stolen for? "It's a destiny lost."

Evangeline shook her head. "A destiny averted." She went around the table and collapsed in her seat. She stared through Adora, and her face went slack. After a moment, she refocused and her green eyes grew sharp once again. "Princess Adora," The Queen began, "You were missed. By the gods. By the planet herself. And, I think, by myself. You almost took my place, you know? You almost had fates' attention and I was almost nobody. I almost got away from this goddamn job. I was so fucking close…People say we're the lucky ones. Like this job is great. But you and I? We're the unluckiest people in the universe. You even more so. You got away. And then got pulled right back in. Such cruelty."

"What are you talking about? It's the honor of my life to be She-Ra."

"I'm sure you'll soon be cured of that ailment," Evangeline said. Her eyes roamed over Adora, like she was seeing her for the first time. "And why were you taken, Princess? What pulled you to Etheria?"

"She's given you more than enough information," Catra cut in, "Now it's your turn to be forthcoming with some things."

"Of course, Princess Catra. What would you like to know?"

"We've heard various rumours about the Magical User Liberation Movement," Catra said, "We've heard you're targeting and killing people without magic. What do you say to these accusations?"

Evangeline rolled her eyes, causing Catra to bristle beside her. "And where did you hear that from? King Elric? He's just mad that I got tired of his useless leadership and wanted something better for Eternia." A smile grew on the Queen's face. "Ahhh, you thought I didn't know about him? I must admit, I did wonder where he went. But Adora was kind enough to tell me in a dream. Him, and those other traitors, are on Etheria, correct?"

All eyes turned to Adora and she felt every single look, from the smug Eternians to her furious friends.

"I think," Glimmer said, "That's enough for today."

"I couldn't agree more," Evangeline replied.

After adjournment, she could feel it, how everyone wanted to be mad. How they wanted to chastise her over the dreams. How could you be so stupid, they wanted to say. But they were gentle and they were kind. They didn't forget how breakable she was, how one word could send her off the edge she so perilously walked.

She hated it. That pregnant silence. Her friends' disheartened faces. When she got the chance hours later, she slipped out the door to be anywhere but here. She wandered the castle's halls and found almost no one else around. The occasional guard stood like a statue, but they refused to break the castle's silence. But then she found something she hadn't realized she'd been searching for—an open door that flooded the dim hallway with a warm glow. It was a lighthouse in her solitude, both warning her away and promising an end to an endless journey. She stepped through the door.

"I was wondering when you'd come." Evangeline's back was to Adora while she sipped at her wine glass, and stared into the room's roaring fireplace.

This felt wrong; it was wrong. She shouldn't be talking to Evangeline alone. Although, would this be any different than their nighttime discussions? Against her better judgment, Adora stepped into the room, lifting her white cape off the ground while crossing across the fine stonework. "I was expected?"

"Expected and wanted, Princess." Evangeline turned as her dress swayed elegantly around her. "I wanted to see you, just you, without the formality. I hate all that bullshit. All the fucking bowing and titles. I mean you get it, right? You're a soldier, and a meeting room is not where we belong."

"I belong there if it prevents conflict. I don't want to fight another war."

"War?" Evangeline cocked an eyebrow. "Is that what you're expecting from us?"

"No," Adora said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Spirits, she'd caused a diplomatic incident in record time. "I didn't mean it like that. I just mean—"

A hand on her arm caused her to stop and look up. "I know what you meant. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me." She took another sip of wine but never moved her eyes off Adora. "We're soldiers, you and I. War is what we do. It's hard not to expect it constantly."

"Especially as She-Ra and the Imperator."

Evangeline nodded in agreement. "Especially as She-Ra and the Imperator. It's hard-wired into us. So much so that I know I'll feel the same way in my next life." Next life. That was maybe closer for Adora than she wanted. "Speaking of," Evangeline said, seemingly reading Adora's mind, "I was so worried about you. In that last dream we had, I don't think you recognized me. You were so young and so wounded. But do you remember now? The dream before? We were talking, at the whipping, and you told me that you were going through the most painful thing you'd ever experienced. Then you disappeared and I didn't see you for almost a month. Gods, Adora, please tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay," Adora confirmed.

Evangeline deflated against the wall and took a shaky breath. "Good. Good. Thank the gods. I was so sick with worry. All day, I could think of little else besides you. And every time I slept, I hoped I'd meet you. And when I didn't, day after day, night after night…" She shook her head and took a gulp of wine. "I've been a wreck, if I'm being honest with you."

Despite her unease at being alone with Evangeline, Adora couldn't help but feel a little touched. "I had no idea I meant so much to you."

"Of course you do," Evangeline said with a smile, "The things I've told you…I know you get it. And you might be the only person in the universe I can say that about. That's not something I take lightly."

Adora knew what she meant. Whenever she told Evangeline something, when they watched one of her worst memories live, she turned to find her dream companion in complete understanding. Others occupied niche areas of comprehension. Catra got the Horde. Glimmer and Brick understood the weight of a duty thrust upon them. Bow knew what it meant to be a soldier. But overlap of perception was rare. Until she met Evangeline.

"If I may ask, what did you think happened? To me, I mean," Adora said.

Evangeline stopped mid-sip and brought her wine glass down slowly. After a moment, she asked, "Do you really want to know? It doesn't matter now."

Adora shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

The Queen tapped at her glass, bit her lip, and then, "I thought you killed yourself."

Adora opened her mouth, expecting some sort of brilliant rebuke to come out, but nothing did and her mouth still hung open stupidly. Unable to stay on her shaking legs, she backed up until the backs of her knees hit a chair and she practically fell into it. Did Evangeline really think she did that? And maybe more importantly, how did she come to that conclusion?

Evangeline stepped towards her, but left a few feet of distance. Adora looked up, searched for an ulterior motive. But the flickering firelight revealed nothing but sincerity. "I mean, am I really that far off? I've watched you fall apart every single night. I admire your courage and your strength to keep fighting, but we all have limits. Even you and I, my friend. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

She let her head fall back against the chair and rubbed at her tired eyes. "I have no idea what you mean."

"You keep going into that forest, knowing full well that you shouldn't and that you're in real danger. What difference does it make, Adora, in the methodology? Slitting your wrists is the same as running into that forest of yours. You knew it would kill you, and you went. How is that any different from slicing your own throat open?"

Is that why she kept going back? Because she wanted something to happen? Because she wanted to die? Was that its irresistible call? The forest's dark hold on her?

"I would never do that to our kids," Adora said, still keeping her eyes firmly shut.

"Or maybe you would." At that, she did open her eyes and start to fire off several comments. But Evangeline's voice drowned her out, forced her into silence. "If it was heroic, if it was saving someone, would that change things, do you think? Would you feel so bad? Would you hesitate on their behalf? Or could you blame it on the job? Make yourself feel better about leaving them because it was for the right reasons?" More quietly, Evangeline added, "It's the perfect excuse to die. And I thought you'd take it, Princess."

Evangeline did this well—throwing her off. She never knew what to expect with their conversations, what twists they'd take. But Adora got the feeling that she always said exactly what she thought and nothing less. And if she truly believed each word she'd just said, was she right about Adora? Was she looking for a way out?

"Don't worry, I'll keep your secret." She walked over and perched on the armrest of Adora's chair. "You've carried this for a long time now. And that's okay. I get it, in fact. This job, it has a…carnivorous nature. And if you're not careful, it will consume you whole."

"That's what you're not seeing. It's not She-Ra that's the problem. It's me. Always has been. She-Ra didn't walk into those woods, I did."

The Queen stayed silent for a moment and cocked her head to the side. Finally, she said, "I wish it was She-Ra. I wish she dragged you out there. I wish she called until you couldn't say no. It would make this all so much easier." She took another swallow of wine but didn't break eye contact. "But I know it's you. All the times we've gone to the Horde, you have the same look. Like you've been pushed a little too far, like hope is a little too unimaginable. It's why I asked how old you are."

"What?"

"It's your eyes, my friend."

Adora scoffed and asked, "You haven't seen old people with blue eyes?"

"No," Evangeline said with a laugh, "I have. What I mean is that you look fucking haunted. Your eyes are too old for forty-eight. They don't match the rest of your…youthful features." Her eyes darted quickly down Adora and then back up. "Eyes don't lie. You may be able to convince everyone else that you can go on, but you can't fool me. I'm sorry you want to die, Adora. I'm sorry that you feel like you can't be saved. That you shouldn't be saved. I'm sorry you can't see another way out. If I could, I would save you tonight. But we both know it doesn't work like that."

Adora nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Evangeline was right, it didn't work like that. When she'd tried to save Catra, when she was young and hopeful, she instead learned a valuable lesson. The only person capable of saving Catra was Catra. Which was an impossible lesson by itself. Could she not love someone until they were whole again? But it came with a secondary lesson, one which she was only learning now. If she couldn't save Catra, then Catra couldn't save her. Nobody could, in fact. Nobody but Adora. And she'd lost the ability, the want, to rescue herself. Worse, she might never have had any craving at all when it came to living.

"I would never do that to our kids," Adora repeated.

Evangeline watched her for a second, looking for what it was hard to say. Finally, the Queen said, "I hope that's true." So did Adora.

They sat for a while in silence. Evangeline sipped her wine and Adora stared at the fire and, through the corner of her eye, the Queen. "You know, the things you hate about yourself make you who you are. I like your shattered soul and how you take things too far. I love your anger and how it seeps out of you. I like that you haven't healed and how you're bleeding out on everyone. It makes you so real. It makes you a person. For so long, I've been disappointed in my own personhood. In my fragility and my feeble human heart. But you're just the same as me, and I don't feel so alone."

"Better people should've been She-Ra and the Imperator," Adora said.

Evangeline shook her head. "Better people would never be able to do what we have to do. That was what I was trying to get at earlier. However you feel about being She-Ra, it wasn't a mistake."

Adora should've responded, instead she just looked at the shadows dancing on the walls. Maybe it would be better if it was a mistake. Maybe she could be convinced that her warrior's heart was replaceable. That it had hardened because it had to, and she could soften it because she wanted to. But, to Evangeline's point, Etheria didn't choose half-measures.

Not for the first time, she was reminded how her differences were dangerous.

"And while I've got you here, I wanted to ask you about the Dark Prince," Evangeline said, her voice startling Adora back to reality, "I know it was you who defeated him. Your greatest victory, second only to Horde Prime. And I know Prime, but I don't know much about the Dark Prince. If I may ask, what was he like?"

"Do you mean Jorah? That's the only name I've ever known him as, but I guess some people knew him as the Dark Prince." Adora sighed. These questions were probably inevitable; her exploits around the galaxy weren't exactly a secret. "What can I say about Jorah? He was a victim of forces beyond his control. As we all are, I suppose. But he was worse than most…He was a blacksmith by trade. A large, muscular man that many remember as being kind and generous. Which I believe but never saw. He was a member of his village's council. He helped at his children's school. Do you get the picture? He wasn't the type of guy you'd assume would grow into someone nicknamed the Dark Prince."

"How was it? Stopping him? Do you feel like you delivered justice?" Evangeline asked.

"Stopping him…That whole experience. It was awful, in every way. I had to leave Catra when she was pregnant. And when I got to Anteros, it was nothing like I expected. I'd heard rumours, everyone had, that the Southern Reach contained things we no longer had names for. People were going in and they weren't coming back out. Anteros sent who they could, but their soldiers came back in tatters. Slaughtered by shadows and chased by the unseen. They begged for our help, and I would never say no."

"Even with a pregnant wife?"

"Even with a pregnant wife," Adora confirmed. A stabbing of pain and sadness, ten years older or more, reappeared as if it had never even left. She remembered that awful day when she'd had to say goodbye. Worse still was a few days earlier when it had sunk in, both into her and Catra, that she really did have to leave. That there really wasn't anyone else that could stop Jorah. She hated leaving Catra every time, but there was something particularly memorable about turning around to see Catra's pregnant silhouette in the doorway of their home, getting smaller and smaller as she rode away.

"And how did Catra feel about that?"

"You'll have to ask her," Adora said, though she knew exactly how Catra felt about it. It was never anything said, it didn't have to be. The answer was in the way her eyes lingered on Adora in the days before her departure. The way she kissed. How she cried in the bathroom when she thought Adora couldn't hear her.

"It can't be easy being married to She-Ra. You're always on the move, always needed by someone else. Never really hers." Evangeline looked over the top of her wine glass as she drank.

"Maybe that's all true. I don't know. I've never been married to She-Ra. You'll have to ask Catra what she thinks." And there it was again, that feigned ignorance. Because she did know about the toll. It didn't take a genius to see how Catra put on her bravest face to hide her dislike of She-Ra. How her smile didn't quite reach her eyes when Adora spoke of the Sword, the weight of duty.

"Perhaps I will," Evangeline said.

When the Queen added nothing else, Adora continued, "His village was near a mountain the locals called Demon Spire. It's a jagged monstrosity that stuck out in the otherwise flat landscape. Magic is different on every planet. Anteros was no exception. And Jorah fell victim to Demon Spire's corruption of Anteros's magic. Over the years, it changed him. It gave him power, yes, but it also made him crazy. And I had to stop him. Which I did."

"And how did you stop him?"

"Can't you feel it?" Adora asked, closing her eyes and searching for her own heart. There it was–its solid beat and its tainted core. The sliver of corruption that Adora would carry for the rest of her life. She didn't notice it most days, didn't think about it for months at a time, but it still waited for her.

Movement made her open her eyes again and she watched Evangeline adjust on her perch beside Adora. Her eyebrows were drawn down, her face troubled. But before Adora could ask what was wrong, Evangeline said, "I've heard rumours, my friend, of the things you've done with dark magic. Jorah, it seems, lost his magical abilities. Is it true? Was it you?"

Adora looked away, looked at the fireplace. Its heat lapped at her, even from a distance of fifteen feet. "How far would you go to save a life?"

"Depends on the life," Evangeline said, "How about you?"

"Jorah wasn't a bad person. He was just in bad circumstances, and I didn't want to kill him. But options were running out. He had to be stopped, one way or another. I knew of a spell–the Consumption Spell. I could drain his power and he could live. It was the perfect solution, so I took it. And it worked. He lost his tainted magic but lived. Still lives, actually, till this very day."

"I would've just killed him," Evangeline said, "But I admire you for finding another way."

"Thank you. It wasn't easy. Finding that solution, seeking that spell, performing it. But I'm glad I did, even years later."

"The Consumption Spell…it's dark magic, no?"

It was but Evangeline didn't need to know that. Didn't need it confirmed, at least. "It's getting late," Adora said, "I should be getting back."

"Of course," Evangeline said, standing but not straying far, "I wouldn't want to keep you from your friends."

"Thank you for the chat," Adora said, standing herself.

"Of course, Adora." The Queen took a step forward and smiled. "I'll see you in my dreams."

And they did. As soon as Adora laid her head down back in her and Catra's room, she was almost immediately in another time and place. They were thirty years in the past, on Horde Prime's immaculate ship. In that thrumming, buzzing room where she saw Catra for the first time in months. But this was not an individual endeavor. Not at all. Evangeline walked with her, matched her step-for-step. They knew how to do this now. How these dreams worked.

Horde Prime himself sat not fifty feet away, his web of screens behind him as he looked down at the young Adora. Her younger self turned around, jaw set and eyes blazing. It was a good look, in hindsight. It meant that She-Ra would be coming soon. Her fury, her rage, her love, all activating some part of her that would later save Catra and then cut an army of clones into ribbons. But that expression melted away when Catra emerged from a stairwell, flanked by two clones.

"Hello, Adora," Catra said. It was that phrase, and not Catra's glowing green eyes, that panicked both Adoras. She knew what happened, had written this story, and yet her stomach still flipped at the thought of Catra being alive but gone forever.

Evangeline stood quietly, moving her head to watch the unfolding scene and Adora's subsequent reaction.

"What did you do to her?" Young Adora snarled and then threw herself at Catra before being caught by the clone guards. She understood that line of thinking, how panic had given way to desperation. But a little bit of age and a little bit of wisdom altered her tactics. If this had happened today, Adora would've turned around and struck Prime down there and then. Not a word would've been said. No explanation on either side. She-Ra would've come and Prime would've died. She'd lost her patience in old age.

"I have made her anew," Prime said, "I saw her mind, so ensnared in rage, and grief, and pain, and I brought her to the light. Isn't that right, little sister?" He thumbed over the chip in Catra's neck. Adora hated him for it. Hated how that chip and that gesture haunted her wife for years and years. And she hated her own weakness. How it would still take another twenty minutes for She-Ra to rise up within her. It was twenty minutes too long.

"Catra, you have to fight it!"

"You love her too much," Evangeline said, so quietly that Adora was almost convinced she hadn't spoken.

"What?" Adora said, turning from the scene to her companion.

"It was stupid to come here. To Horde Prime's ship. You could've been killed and doomed the entire universe. And wasn't she your enemy? I understand you were in the Horde together, but no one is worth killing She-Ra."

"I can't live with so many of the things I didn't do. I couldn't add leaving Catra to that list," Adora said, "And you're right. It was stupid. Objectively stupid and entirely selfish and I would do it again."

"Only because you know it all turned out okay. What if you had been killed?" The mere thought of that seemed to twist Evangeline's features towards grief.

Adora shrugged. "What if?"

"There it is. Again," Evangeline said before reaching out to lightly grasp Adora's arms, "You can't keep thinking like this."

"Like what?"

"You're so careless with yourself. So ready to throw yourself away for anyone. That's not being selfless, Adora. That's being suicidal." Her clear green eyes stared into Adora, almost as if she could convey some sort of self-preservation by look alone. "Do you see the difference? Do you care?"

Adora shook her off and turned away. Who did Evangeline think she was? Turning up like this? Speaking her most private thoughts aloud? "Don't you need to be paying attention to this?" She gestured to the Horde Prime scene that was quickly dissolving into violence between herself and chipped Catra. "Don't you need to use this against me? It doesn't seem like anything is off the table for you. My childhood, my wife, it's all up for grabs, right?"

"Adora–"

"No, you don't get to Adora me. Not after all that bullshit you pulled today. Thanks for turning my friends against me, by the way. I hope you got what you wanted." For the first time, Evangeline seemed rendered speechless. Good. She was tired of hearing from the Queen. "What? You didn't think I'd get mad? That I wouldn't notice? I'm not that little girl anymore. I'm not so naive," Adora said. She stepped towards Evangeline, but the Queen backed away. "You can't manipulate me as you please. I'm not some game piece to play."

Evangeline held up her hands in defeat. "I'm not trying to manipulate you. I just want you to recognize where you're headed right now. You're circling the drain, and I want you to stop. That's all. Nothing more and nothing less."

Was she telling the truth? Was her motive that selfless? Maybe. Or maybe not. Adora looked her up and down, trying to find her tell. "I can't figure you out," Adora admitted, "So tell me what I should think. What would you do in my shoes?"

Without skipping a beat, Evangeline said, "I would believe me."

Adora opened her mouth to reply and then realized she had nothing else to say. Directionless, she turned to watch the fight between herself and Catra again. Stupid. So stupid. They'd wasted years on fighting, precious years they could've spent loving each other. Years they couldn't get back and couldn't change.

Catra fell backwards off the ledge, disappearing into the darkness of the ship's inner workings. Her younger self paused, looked down and then around. She took a deep breath and then she jumped too.

"I've always hated how I hesitated," Adora said, peering off the edge of the platform into pitch darkness. Somewhere down there, she'd shattered both legs and Catra was dying. "If I could, I'd go back and jump without a second thought."

"Really? I like the hesitation. It's real. And I can tell that you're thinking about the costs. I see that you know you might get hurt, even killed, and you still jumped. Adora, that's what matters. That you still jumped despite your misgivings. If you jumped without a second thought, I'd simply think you were an idiot."

"Well, that's still an option."

They both laughed and Adora stepped away from the edge. Would the dream take them down there? Would they watch She-Ra thunder back into Adora's life? But as the time passed, the scene didn't change. It was still Prime' throne room, with its shattered screens and blood spatters. But why? What wasn't she seeing? A purpose always came with these dreams. When she first got here, she should've been asking why. Why this memory? Why this place?

Catra. That was the missing piece. Earlier, when Evangeline had tried to convince Catra that Adora spoke about her in dreams, the Queen must've realized that she had little information about Catra. So she took them here. To probe, to find out more about her wife. It was a cold and calculating move. It was a breach of these dreams, this supposedly safe space.

Adora whipped around, her face inches from Evangeline. "You took us here," Adora hissed, "You chose this memory. You know you don't have anything on Catra and you wanted more. How dare you."

Out of all the reactions in the world, Adora wasn't expecting Evangeline to grin. "It's good you're questioning these dreams. There is an agenda at play here. But it's not mine." The Queen stepped forward, whispered, "Haven't you ever noticed that there's something else in these dreams beside us? I don't pick what we see, Adora. But someone, or something, is." Adora opened her mouth to say something but Evangeline quickly placed a finger across her lips. "Be very careful what you say next. There are ears everywhere."

Adora shut her mouth and looked around. But she could see nothing out of place, no lingering shadows or shimmering space. "How do you know all this?"

Evangeline shrugged and said, "It's only a feeling really. But just as you've learned to trust your gut, so have I."

"So…what should we do?"

"I don't know," Evangeline said, "Act normally. We'll wait and we'll watch. We don't have enough information to act on anything. And whatever we decide to do, we'll do together."

"Okay," Adora agreed, "Together." She wanted to say more but the world burned away. First at the edges, just black spots in her peripheral, and then the dream fell apart like a picture getting eaten by a flame. As the world snuffed out, Evangeline gave one last look. There was no smile on her face, no cheerful light. It was a look she'd seen before, like an animal caught in a snare.

When she awoke, in the early dawn hours, a message waited for her. A message not from Evangeline, but from Inuva itself. She walked out onto the room's balcony, a cup of coffee in her hand, and a million questions racing through her thoughts. Who made the dreams? What was their purpose? But her questioning mind gave way to a feeling becoming more and more prevalent by the day—fear. The morning light brought a blood-red promise to the planet, the clouds' awful hues warning of oncoming bloodshed. She didn't have the powers of prophecy like some, but she knew a sign when it got slapped across her face.

"Good—" Adora jumped at the words and the accompanying touch on her shoulder. She turned to find a formerly tired and now alarmed Catra. "Spirits, you almost just gave me a fucking heart attack."

"You almost just gave me one," Adora said, taking deep breaths and clutching her chest.

"I get why you're jumpy, but—"

"Catra, can we leave today? Like, as soon as we can?"

If it were even possible, Catra somehow looked more alarmed. "Why today? We're still scheduled to be here a few more days."

"Look," Adora said, nodding towards the rolling red sky, "Blood will be spilled today. Not metaphorical blood, real blood."

Catra stared at the fast-moving dawn before bringing her coffee cup to her lips. She took a sip, then said, "How certain are you?"

It was more than the red sky, it was the smell of the air, the thickness of the atmosphere that tipped her off. It was a heavy, metallic taste that would've choked her had it been just a little stronger. But how could she describe how a tiny shift in the wind told her everything she needed to know? "It'll happen, without a doubt in my mind."

Catra nodded, eyes hard in the equally harsh lighting. "It'll take a while. The crew isn't prepared and neither are the diplomats. But I bet we could be ready by mid-afternoon. Is that soon enough?"

"It'll have to be," Adora said, turning back into the room. Numerous calls would have to be made, people would have to scramble. Hopefully that would be enough.

…

"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay, Princess?"

"You should go too, Your Majesty. Whatever's coming could happen to anyone. And, you know, maybe it's about…" Adora trailed off, but she stared at Evangeline. Hopefully she'd get it. This whole omen could be about what they'd talked about last night. Maybe whatever watched them in the dreams had finally come to the waking world.

Evangeline sighed and shrugged her shoulders, giving no indication she understood what Adora was trying to allude to. "Or maybe it was just a red sky. Those happen sometimes, you know?"

"Not like this." Adora opened her mouth to say more, then reconsidered. Why did she have to work so hard for Evangeline to believe her? Even a magical novice would be able to sense that something was off. "Can't you feel it? The change in the tide? The silence of the forests? Inuva knows what's coming and we should take its word for it."

"I can appreciate that things have been weird for you recently, but maybe, just maybe, you're overreacting," Evangeline said. Why was she being so odd? After last night, she should've been terrified of this message from Inuva. What was this nonchalance, this casual demeanor?

"Or maybe you're underreacting. I'm serious, Your Majesty, you should leave while you still can. Who knows what's waiting down the road? We're lucky we got any warning at all."

Evangeline's jaw tightened and she searched the room they stood in. She turned back to Adora and widened her eyes a bit. What had she said last night? There are ears everywhere. Was she trying to act normal? Trying to be careful? "I see that I'm not going to convince you. But I'd never forgive myself if I let the best swordswoman in the galaxy go without a friendly spar," the Queen said, "So, what do you say? Just a little parting gift for a friend."

Was that really a good idea? With everything going on? But it would be some time before their ship was ready. And she needed to seem capable, healthy. To both Evangeline and whatever else watched. Adora was never stingy with her willingness to spar and the Queen could get suspicious if her reluctance went directly against her fighter's reputation. She liked Evangeline and her genuine personality, but if she knew Adora was wounded? If she knew that no one alive could offer legitimate resistance? What happened then? And maybe worst of all, what happened if whatever watched them knew Adora was weakened?

"Fine," Adora said, adding, "I do love a good fight. Let me change, and then let's meet in the training room?"

"I was thinking something a little more public. I always thought fighting was more fun with an audience. So, how about the courtyard?"

"Deal," Adora said, turning to head back to her room. Almost immediately she regretted her decision. Perhaps rejecting a fight would look bad, but it would be worse if she couldn't keep up with Evangeline, if her wound reared its ugly head and she got easily defeated. Spirits. How was she always getting herself into these poorly planned predicaments?

When they met again, both wore light, gleaming armour. And both brought an audience, a cheering section. Her friends were less than pleased when she told them of the spar, but they'd still come. Catra especially had been critical of the idea, and Adora had been hard-pressed to disagree. But she'd said yes and there was no backing down.

Evangeline walked towards Adora before unsheathing her sword when they were only a few feet from each other. She brought it to her face and rotated it in her grip, inspecting. "The Sword of Light," the Queen said with a touch of awe. The sword ignited and flame rushed steadily on from its hilt to its tip.

Adora schooled her expression, then made eye contact with Sunny and Brick. Spirits, they better not say a damn word. They couldn't be that stupid. Could they? Then she remembered how they'd followed her into the forest and all hope faded. But, while they both stood there with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, the two fools managed to keep quiet.

"A flaming sword?" Evangeline asked, "Have you ever seen anything like it? She had actually, strangely, impossibly. That Spirit at the feast had swung it at her neck. Velesta had said she was supposed to wield it. In another time, in another life, Adora knew it well.

"No, I've never seen anything like it."

Adora held her breath, waited for Evangeline to call her on this lie. But the Queen didn't look away from her sword and just said, "Neither had I. I got it on my tenth birthday, and I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I knew the Imperator had a sword, but nothing like this."

"This is the Imperator's sword? Every Imperator has wielded it?"

"Yes. Much like She-Ra and the Sword of Protection. I would be nothing without it." Really? Nothing? Maybe Adora thirty years ago could relate, but not anymore. She didn't need the sword's magic. In fact, it paled in comparison to her own capabilities. So was it the same for Evangeline? Or did she get her power from the Sword of Light, and not the other way around?

Adora unsheathed the Sword of Protection, and while it was an impressive sword, it wasn't quite a flaming sword. "Why can't you flame a little?" At that, the sword glowed blue and hummed faintly.

Evangeline laughed and said, "I can't believe you just offended a sword."

"Kidding, kidding." Adora brought the sword closer and whispered, "Light of my life, joy in my heart."

"Don't you have children?"

"Yes, and?"

Evangeline gave her an odd look and said, "Etheria has made you weird."

Adora laughed and took a few steps backward. "Are we gonna start or are we gonna wait until every prophecy starts coming true?"

"Impatient," Evangeline said, smiling. Then she too took her fighting stance, wrapping both hands around her sword's hilt and bending her knees. She looked at Adora, assessed. And Adora did the same in an endless loop of assessing. But even this told Adora something. Beginners didn't pause like this. Novices didn't search for that nearly invisible weakness.

Adora lunged forward, trying to throw Evangeline off balance. But the Queen simply moved effortlessly to the side. She jabbed half-heartedly at Adora, but even her slower movements outdid Adora's fragile body and her sword met its mark in Adora's side. She stumbled from the hit, and she looked up to see surprise etched across every plain of the Queen's face. She understood why. Adora was supposed to be the best swordsperson in the galaxy, and she was already losing in the first twenty seconds.

Anyone claiming to know anything about swordsmanship would've noticed Adora's fragility, would've exploited it, and Evangeline was no exception. She crossed the distance between them in seconds and brought her sword down in a powerful arc. Adora brought up her sword to stop the attack, but was forced to her knees by Evangeline's raw strength. Again, surprise eclipsed the Queen's face. So much for not appearing weak.

Instead of pressing her advantage, Evangeline stepped back and lowered her sword, allowing Adora to clamber to her feet. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Adora said, "Just a little rusty." She stopped herself from pressing a hand to her stomach. She was healing, not healed. The throbbing pain throughout her torso told her as much.

"If you're sure…" Evangeline said, though she didn't seem convinced. She got in her fighter's position again, but she stayed put and the message was clear: Adora was to make the first move.

Not intending to disappoint, Adora stepped forward and slashed downwards. The air buzzed around them, glowed blue. For a split second, Evangeline's face twisted with horror. She must've felt it too–the uncontrollable surge of power that struck like a lightning bolt. Adora tried to react, tried to pull back, but even with superhuman speed, she couldn't stop the split-second collision of their blades. She felt the impact of their swords first, then heard the ear-shattering boom as she tumbled backwards.

The ground gave way when she landed, causing her to roll with the loose dirt and grass. She ended up on her back, in a tangle that she couldn't fix. Broken leg, broken arm, broken body. Or so it felt like. How bad was it really? She brought up a shiny, bloody hand. Pretty bad then.

"What the hell was that? I've never seen anything like it!" Evangeline's voice grew louder and louder with every word. She must've been blown back too, but she didn't have something that Adora did: a newly reopened stomach wound. "Any ideas, Adora? Maybe our swords just don't like each other. I mean–" Then silence. Was it her ears? Were they the first sense going? But then a bird squawked somewhere nearby and it wasn't Adora. She looked up to find Evangeline about ten feet away, totally frozen and the color draining out of her face.

As if on cue, Adora coughed and sputtered up blood. Blood that splattered across her face, dribbled down her cheeks. It tickled as it slid down her face and dripped onto the ground. She turned her head, only to see her reflection in the Sword of Protection. Rivulets of blood cut her face into sections as the little streams carved a path over her pale skin.

Flowers grew all around her, sprouting and blooming and growing all in the span of several seconds. It was her blood, Adora realized. Her rich She-Ra blood, her magic, her life. The ground drunk her up greedily, not wasting a single drop.

She hadn't felt this useful in a month.

It hadn't been like this in the forest. Or, more likely, she hadn't realized how life trailed in the wake of her oncoming death. On that dreary night, had she been helping Etheria more by dying than by living? Was she doing the same for Inuva?

"By the gods. Oh, no. Oh, fuck. We have a problem!" Evangeline yelled. "Adora's hurt!"

The Queen's call came almost a month too late. The die was cast in the Whispering Woods, with that black knife. Her wound had taken its time, but it had arrived at its destination all the same. As was the nature of these things. Horrendously slow and completely unstoppable.

Who could save her now? Not herself, of that Adora was certain.

Evangeline dropped to her knees, her mouth slightly agape. She looked around Adora wildly while she bunched her hair in her palms. What a strange sight–to see the Queen looking so undone. Maybe she wasn't lying. Maybe she truly wanted what was best for Adora.

"You have to heal yourself," Evangeline said, placing her hands on the seeping wound. A white-hot streak of pain shot through Adora, causing the edges of her vision to fade into a creeping darkness.

"I…can't," Adora heaved out between mouthfuls of blood. It was everywhere–in her throat, on her hands, in her nose. She was awash with her own blood, a waste by any measure.

"What do you mean you can't? Of course you can! You're fucking She-Ra." Adora could only shake her head. "Come on! Transform!" Evangeline yelled. Adora shook her head again. She would not die as She-Ra, she wouldn't wound like that. The next would need all the help they could get, there was no reason to stain their time as She-Ra by letting their shared self die in a field on a distant planet.

"Fuck. Fuck, Adora." Evangeline's voice rose, wobbled.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her rapidly dissipating attention. Adora flopped her too heavy head to the side and watched a herd of deer creep closer. They weren't like Etherian deer, all blue accents and delicate. They were big, shaggy, and built for long, starving winters. A bear lumbered out beside them, causing no panic amongst the prey animals. Their short truce was for her, Adora realized. They were here to watch, to bear witness to a legend dying and then being reborn. And maybe to help as well.

She reached out a hand, tried to welcome them. If they could heal, channel the power of Inuva, then maybe her time wasn't up. Maybe the clock wasn't ticking down. Her own elemental powers were useless, but animals tended to have even an older power than she. Some, like Lord Bulruk, could heal a killing blow, a deadly disease, a spreading infection. Please let that be the case right now.

"Get away!" Evangeline roared before sending an arch of magic towards the animals. It ripped the ground to pieces in front of them, sent them scattering, and running for their lives. A flash of hoof and a streak of brown fur retreated back into the trees, taking any hope of survival with them.

What a shame to die on a planet so far from home. For some reason, she liked to think her last battle would be fought under Etheria's twelve moons. They would hang low, mourning what was to come, and that would almost make up for dying. It was poetic and ridiculous and absolutely not happening. She had died in a sparring match, the books would say. No other She-Ra would die so uselessly. Even in death, Adora couldn't be who she needed to be.

But she'd lost the heart to change the story. If she were twenty, she'd be dragging herself through the dirt, she'd be trying to call the animals back. She had the tenacity of a survivor, but she'd survived too much now. Somewhere along the way she'd lost her desperate, white-knuckled grip on life. When had it gone? Did it disappear into the night when she wasn't looking? Had it gone piece-by-piece or all at once?

She found she didn't care.

What were Finny and Reyna doing right now? Was it night? Were they sleeping? Or was Reyna galloping around her grandparents? Was Finny talking to Sarah? Were they all sitting around the dinner table, laughing? With a start, she realized she'd never know.

A flash of light caused Adora to close her eyes and then open them again slowly. The light was gone, but Evangeline wasn't. Except she wasn't like before. Now her figure blotted out the suns and her hands covered Adora's entire torso. So this was the Imperator? All jet-black hair and feet taller than Adora? Perhaps she should've been reassured, but Evangeline looked as panicked as ever.

"If you're not gonna do it…" Evangeline murmured and then shut her eyes. Warmth spread from Adora's abdomen into her legs and up her chest. It felt like laying in the sun on a hot summer day. It was perfect and not enough.

Every wound healed. The papercut from yesterday. Her burned tongue from scalding coffee. Her broken femur and her shattered arm. They all faded away, except for the one that counted. She knew that when she could still feel the wet slide of blood against her palms.

Evangeline opened her eyes and stared. Then she looked at her own hands, horrified. Her body had probably been able to do anything, her status as Imperator lending her power that could not be denied. Until today. Adora remembered that feeling well. It was worse than the knife wound, that slicing realization that she was not invulnerable and even She-Ra had her limits. She had never met an enemy she couldn't defeat, a wound she couldn't heal. That didn't happen to She-Ra or the Imperator. It didn't even register as a possibility. So when it happened, the world was a little bit ruined. It was a little less sure, a little more dangerous. And worst of all, the old world could never come back.

And then Catra was there, crouching by Adora's head, talking. She tried to listen. And she got some of it. "The healers are coming, Adora. Please, you just have to hold on." But there was nothing to hold on to.