Chapter 5; Final moments of Fancy
The moons were hiding this night, painting the star-clad heavens a deep ebony. Adora's heart beat in wild rhythm with Spirits hoof beats, her blood thundered in her ears as the wind roared past. She leaned low over Spirits withers, urging him on- delightedly, he obliged.
His hooves fairly ate the earth they trod as trees and bushes and rocks and hills sped by in a blur of darkened shadows. Her hair trailed behind her like the errant tail of a lost comet, her skin chapping to a cherry red as the wind molested her fair features. She rode her steed in stoic silence even as her heart shattered in her breast.
She heard it in her mind, felt it in her soul; stubbornly she refused to yield to the intense pain.
Spirit slowed to a gentle trot and finally stopped at the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach she rode with Bow. The sight of shore kissing sea and the sea embracing the horizon was spectacular- the varying degrees of darkness fusing with the myriad sparkling lights in the sky was a soothing balm to her weary soul. She came here often.
It was here that she dreamed in wide-eyed wonder with the innocence of a child of the day her world would be free and she could be with the Sea Hawk. The man who loved her.
She thought.
A bitter laugh escaped her changing to a tangled sob which she quickly stifled halfway out.
Many were the evenings she had spent in this very spot soothing her lonely heart with gentle dreams of a tomorrow with Hawk. He was her first, and only love. Thinking of him now still caused a bittersweet pleasure to fill her. He was a scoundrel hiding a gentle heart; she had thought it was hers. Picturing him holding Ariel as he had held her, kissing her as he had kissed her was like twisting a hot knife in her gut.
She smiled.
It was an ugly expression- not a smile of joy- the pain in her heart clawed at her, burning her insides, ripping as it tried to escape the prison of her mind. She offered it no escape as she cradled her pain close to her heart.
That which killed her not could only forge her into a stronger being. She was used to sacrifice. Love was just one more thing she could cross off her to do list
Gazing out on the ocean as black as the sky above it she gave vent to her frustration, her hurt, her rage and confusion, her burst hopes and shattered illusions, her aching heart and troubled soul.
She laughed. An ugly sound. But what else could she do but defy the hurt which threatened to consume her?
Should she cry?
If she started now she'd never stop.
So she laughed that scary, mirthless laugh, inundated with all the rage of a world torn by war. She thrust her fist high into the sky and laughed because she knew if she didn't laugh she would break
She laughed until she couldn't breathe. Then she fell silent and her heart didn't hurt so bad. Stilling her mind, she absorbed the cool night air and sought the calm center of her being which she allowed none to see, none to touch, none to know. She breathed deep. The peaceful inner part of herself she sheltered from the world and kept all to herself flowered. It was here she tucked the hurt she was feeling inside then closed it up.
Time passed. Maybe minutes, possibly hours- she was unsure. Regaining control of her turbulent emotions she pushed the inner storm into the farthest corners of her conscious mind. She was a warrior. She would use her anger, her hurt and disappointment later. In battle.
This was not the first time she had come here to vent her frustrations, nor would it be the last. However gazing down over the side of the cliff and watching the onyx sea beat savagely against the helpless shore, its foamy fingers raking across the tranquil loam she realized that this place would no longer hold the same enchantment it once had.
She stood slowly. Gazing out at the world, she lifted her chin high once again. People needed her.
The time for self pity was done. Grasping a golden locket which hung from a delicate chain suspended round her neck she tightened her fist around its cold weight and with a sharp tug and light snap pulled it off, breaking the clasp which had secured it to her for a little over three years.
She was unaware of the strangled cry which tore from her throat as she sent the shimmering locket flying headlong over the cliff and into the unfeeling dark.
Pulling herself atop Spirit, nuzzling his neck briefly, she started back to camp.
Pulling herself atop Spirit, nuzzling his neck briefly, she started back to camp. She hadn't ridden far when Bow pulled out of the trees and fell into step beside her. Adora's face burned in embarrassment. Had he heard her? Had he seen her acting like a crazy woman? Nothing was said, they rode in silence.
The night was teeming with sounds. Birds, singing one to the other in the dark pastel branches above, leapt lightly from branch to branch. Pink and blue leaves fell quietly like healing kisses from mother nature for her children of the light. Foliage rustled gently as nocturnal hunters crept through the underbrush. There was the deep barum of croaking frogs and the hum of insects and in the distance the sound of laughter.
Adora smiled. With the day she had just lived through she had almost forgotten that laughter, true, joyful, happiness filled laughter existed.
She glanced at Bow. He seemed to be thinking intensely about something. His teeth worried his lower lip as he struggled with some inner demon.
"Bow, what's the matter?" Bow looked over at her startled.
"Well… I was just wondering, are you alright?" Her friend was concerned. Adora flushed.
"Wanna' race?" She asked. He smiled so big she thought his cheekbones were going to break.
She loved these people. They were her friends and her family and they stood beside her even when they thought she was in the wrong. They trusted her to lead them to victory. But more than that.
They cared for her. And she for them.
Too much to allow them to spend the rest of their lives fighting. Somehow she would win this war for them. She vowed right then to redouble her efforts against the Horde. She smiled tremulously.
Leaning over she lay her hand to the side of Bow's cheek.
"Bow, I swear if I weren't already taken by the man of my dreams I'd ask you to marry me here and now."
Bow's mouth dropped open in shock. "Who- who- who's the lucky guy?" Adora smiled a small secret smile and she leaned down to hug Spirit tight.
"Why Bow, you know there's only room for one stud in my life and that's Spirit." She grinned brilliantly at him. "You realize it's another week in the kitchens for you." Bow laughed.
"Don't be so cocky, I'm going to win this time."
"Uh, huh, sure, keep telling yourself that hero while you make me dinner. Ready, GO!" And Adora sped off. Bow didn't stay still for long, kicking Arrow into a gallop he shot after her.
"You cheated! I wasn't ready, Adora, that's not fair!"
"All's fair in love and war Bow!" She called back.
They raced along the beach, blind in the night save for the twinkling incandescence of a multitude of stars and the instincts of the steeds each trusted with their lives. The thrill of the race was lightning in their blood, a storm brewing in their veins to be unleashed through the speed of their mounts. There was a certain wildness to it, a savage, feral rush, gained racing blindly in the dark and trusting your life to the beast between your legs.
Bow wasn't exactly totally focused on the race however. As Spirit raced ahead Bow had a sweet view of Adora's behind gently rising and falling with the gallop of her horse. Up and down it went, she really was curved beautifully, a broad grin split his face as Adora easily won the race.
"You lost. Again!" She was soooo smug.
"Hey, you don't hear me complaining do you?" Adora stared at him curiously. He was glad it was dark so she couldn't see his face flush red in embarrassment. He asked quickly, "So what was this race, love or war?" A flash of gleaming Ivory teeth illuminated the darkness mere inches from where he sat.
"Both Bow."
"Both?" She had him baffled.
"Love of your cooking and the revolt my stomach was planning if I had to eat my own."
***********************************************
Catra and Mantenna lay prostrate on the cold sterile floor of the throne room. Neither daring to look up as they struggled valiantly to explain their failure to Hordack. An unkind snort boomed across the chamber.
"So, you were unable to defeat Adora and her little friends hmmm? And She-ra wasn't even there. I must say I am not pleased." A broad- shouldered highly muscled figure of doom loomed over them, his dark shadow cast across their quivering forms like evil incarnate. "You will of course have to be punished." He snorted again.
"Rowww, mighty Horrrdack, we attemmmpted to defeat the rebels but that scoundrel Leech, offered no assistance!" Catra whined nearly in panic, remembering the last time she had been punished.
Hordack had a well of creative genius hidden inside his black heart. He liked being original in his punishments. The last time Catra was punished Shadow Weaver tested a spell of sympathetic magic on her and a shrub- as the shrub sickened so had she until the shrub died. Catra had felt the clammy fingers of death creep round her soul- unable to catch hold and take possession. She had felt the death of the plant as if it were her own. She had no desire to repeat the experiment.
"Yeeees! If that blue buffooon had helped out even a liiittle then maybe we could have stopped those rebels!" Mantenna replied eagerly, anxious to put the blame somewhere else.
"That's right!" Hordack thundered curling his blue hand into a fist, "where is that blue boob!"
"Rowww, mighty one, he took off running from the rebels and we haven't seen him since."
"Well, when I get my hands on him he'll wish he'd never been born. As for you two-" Hordack paused to grin evilly, "failure doesn't please me, sooo-" he didn't even finish speaking, he simply pressed a button on the side of his throne and the floor disappeared from under them, they fell six levels into the depths of the Elduro River which ran below his throne room and through the Fright Zone, emptying into the Ocean.
Hordack spun about on his Steel booted heel and stomping over to his throne he threw himself down to pout and ponder this latest development in the Rebellion.
Hordack considered the Rebellion a joke.
His forces were vast and spread across the face of Etheria. Two- thirds of the planet was his. Ruled by him and his many commanders and generals, they kept the populace subjugated, squeezing their tyrannical fist tight enough each year to kill any thoughts of freedom, any hope of escape or any plots of subversion.
The people to the south of the whispering woods knew nothing of the little rebellion to the north, they had never even heard of She-ra. Many however had heard of Adora, the defector. Instead of being angry, Hordack was actually proud of Adora. She was the mind behind the rebellion, eventually he would of course crush it and her, but he enjoyed matching wits with her. She had always been the brightest commander he had ever trained.
She had a head for tactics and fighting a large scale war. The main reason she hadn't beat him back was simply put, she didn't have the manpower he did. The people of Etheria were quick to fight each other and slow to unite against old prejudice. For years people believed trolls evil- only recently had they united to help the rebels.
Thanks to She-ra.
Hordack gritted his teeth. She was the cause of most of his worries, the focus of most of his rage. She had turned Adora against him. He knew it. Adora had once been a ruthless commander, believing she was on the side of right she had done what was necessary to enforce Horde rule.
In fact it was Adora who had designed and implemented the campaign to take Brightmoon and Queen Angella. Then her brother came through a portal from Eternia and with the help of She-ra and that warrior He-man stole his precious protégé from him, breaking the spells Shadow Weaver held her under for ten years.
Adora had been so proficient in her training she surpassed her entire squad with single-minded determination. Hordack had begun training her himself. In weaponry of every kind, in tactics and campaigning, in psychological warfare and hand to hand combat. No one else under his command could even come close to giving him the workout she had, and he had never held back- too much. When Adora had been Force Captain, she had brought out the best qualities in his warriors. Not from being nice to them either but because they did not want to disappoint her. They knew if she was disappointed Hordack was disappointed and if Hordack was disappointed then bad things happened to people.
Hordack still wanted Adora back under his command, running his armies. No one since her had ever done as well. He remembered how upset he was when Adora disappeared the evening She-ra appeared. He had been terrified that the warrior He-man had killed her for shooting him in the back. Later when he had discovered she had betrayed him he had been furious.
Beyond words.
When Skeletor betrayed him he thought his chance to get her back gone forever- but in a surprising twist of fate Adora returned to Etheria, becoming the leader of the rebellion.
Adora liked power. She also liked to win. Traits he had instilled in her from the time she was a child. Traits he had encouraged and seen blossom under his tutelage. He had seen her attempts to whip her rag-tag band of rebels into a fighting force and was pleased to see how well she had done.
Eventually, she would realize she had no hope of winning. It was there Hordack believed he had her. Once she realized the rebels couldn't win he believed she could be wooed back to his side. If only for the good of the people.
Hordack was a very patient man, and he really wanted Adora back. In his entire life he had never cared for anything or anyone as he cared for her.
She was an obsession.
As a baby Adora needed constant care and being new to Etheria, Hordack had cared for her himself. As a baby needing constant attention Hordack became very possessive of her. She grew up at his side. He placed her in a chamber next to his ensuring her safety.
Unlike the others.
Children were picked every four years across the planet and raised in squadrons in the Fright Zone to be soldiers. Adora had never been far. As she grew Hordack realized she possessed a quick mind and keen intellect. Exactly what he would expect from the child of King Randor. She began questioning how he ran things on Etheria at around eleven years of age, so he acquired Shadow Weaver and had her work her dark spells on the child, insuring Adora's continuing and unwavering loyalty.
He had her taught things the other children were never exposed to, politics, philosophy, the history of the Horde and its primary purpose; to organize all the worlds under one vast empire using all the combined resources of each to push further outward and conquer new planets and gain more wealth. She learned everything. He began grooming her as Force Captain at twelve and as his heir at nineteen. She was to succeed him to his throne when he became the next horde master.
All that changed when she broke the spells that held her.
Hordack despised magic now. He relied too much on it to control Adora and it failed him. Shadow Weaver had failed him. She had never stopped paying the price for that failure either.
Hordack believed Adora would return to him because she wanted nothing more than to win and see all her people united under one rule. When she realized that the rebels could never unite she would return to him. Then he would crush the rebellion.
In the meantime he would allow Adora to experience command and realize just how much she enjoyed winning and loathed defeat.
Her return was inevitable. He was a part of who she was, he had helped engineer the way she thought, he knew her better than she knew herself. And when she returned, She-ra would pose no threat, he had a card he knew she would never suspect he had, he was merely holding it in reserve until Adora rejoined him.
Leech on the other hand was a coward who was quickly out living his usefulness. If anything would unite the people against the Horde it would be a threat to their children. He would have to be punished severely. If he ever showed up.
The moons were hiding this night, painting the star-clad heavens a deep ebony. Adora's heart beat in wild rhythm with Spirits hoof beats, her blood thundered in her ears as the wind roared past. She leaned low over Spirits withers, urging him on- delightedly, he obliged.
His hooves fairly ate the earth they trod as trees and bushes and rocks and hills sped by in a blur of darkened shadows. Her hair trailed behind her like the errant tail of a lost comet, her skin chapping to a cherry red as the wind molested her fair features. She rode her steed in stoic silence even as her heart shattered in her breast.
She heard it in her mind, felt it in her soul; stubbornly she refused to yield to the intense pain.
Spirit slowed to a gentle trot and finally stopped at the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach she rode with Bow. The sight of shore kissing sea and the sea embracing the horizon was spectacular- the varying degrees of darkness fusing with the myriad sparkling lights in the sky was a soothing balm to her weary soul. She came here often.
It was here that she dreamed in wide-eyed wonder with the innocence of a child of the day her world would be free and she could be with the Sea Hawk. The man who loved her.
She thought.
A bitter laugh escaped her changing to a tangled sob which she quickly stifled halfway out.
Many were the evenings she had spent in this very spot soothing her lonely heart with gentle dreams of a tomorrow with Hawk. He was her first, and only love. Thinking of him now still caused a bittersweet pleasure to fill her. He was a scoundrel hiding a gentle heart; she had thought it was hers. Picturing him holding Ariel as he had held her, kissing her as he had kissed her was like twisting a hot knife in her gut.
She smiled.
It was an ugly expression- not a smile of joy- the pain in her heart clawed at her, burning her insides, ripping as it tried to escape the prison of her mind. She offered it no escape as she cradled her pain close to her heart.
That which killed her not could only forge her into a stronger being. She was used to sacrifice. Love was just one more thing she could cross off her to do list
Gazing out on the ocean as black as the sky above it she gave vent to her frustration, her hurt, her rage and confusion, her burst hopes and shattered illusions, her aching heart and troubled soul.
She laughed. An ugly sound. But what else could she do but defy the hurt which threatened to consume her?
Should she cry?
If she started now she'd never stop.
So she laughed that scary, mirthless laugh, inundated with all the rage of a world torn by war. She thrust her fist high into the sky and laughed because she knew if she didn't laugh she would break
She laughed until she couldn't breathe. Then she fell silent and her heart didn't hurt so bad. Stilling her mind, she absorbed the cool night air and sought the calm center of her being which she allowed none to see, none to touch, none to know. She breathed deep. The peaceful inner part of herself she sheltered from the world and kept all to herself flowered. It was here she tucked the hurt she was feeling inside then closed it up.
Time passed. Maybe minutes, possibly hours- she was unsure. Regaining control of her turbulent emotions she pushed the inner storm into the farthest corners of her conscious mind. She was a warrior. She would use her anger, her hurt and disappointment later. In battle.
This was not the first time she had come here to vent her frustrations, nor would it be the last. However gazing down over the side of the cliff and watching the onyx sea beat savagely against the helpless shore, its foamy fingers raking across the tranquil loam she realized that this place would no longer hold the same enchantment it once had.
She stood slowly. Gazing out at the world, she lifted her chin high once again. People needed her.
The time for self pity was done. Grasping a golden locket which hung from a delicate chain suspended round her neck she tightened her fist around its cold weight and with a sharp tug and light snap pulled it off, breaking the clasp which had secured it to her for a little over three years.
She was unaware of the strangled cry which tore from her throat as she sent the shimmering locket flying headlong over the cliff and into the unfeeling dark.
Pulling herself atop Spirit, nuzzling his neck briefly, she started back to camp.
Pulling herself atop Spirit, nuzzling his neck briefly, she started back to camp. She hadn't ridden far when Bow pulled out of the trees and fell into step beside her. Adora's face burned in embarrassment. Had he heard her? Had he seen her acting like a crazy woman? Nothing was said, they rode in silence.
The night was teeming with sounds. Birds, singing one to the other in the dark pastel branches above, leapt lightly from branch to branch. Pink and blue leaves fell quietly like healing kisses from mother nature for her children of the light. Foliage rustled gently as nocturnal hunters crept through the underbrush. There was the deep barum of croaking frogs and the hum of insects and in the distance the sound of laughter.
Adora smiled. With the day she had just lived through she had almost forgotten that laughter, true, joyful, happiness filled laughter existed.
She glanced at Bow. He seemed to be thinking intensely about something. His teeth worried his lower lip as he struggled with some inner demon.
"Bow, what's the matter?" Bow looked over at her startled.
"Well… I was just wondering, are you alright?" Her friend was concerned. Adora flushed.
"Wanna' race?" She asked. He smiled so big she thought his cheekbones were going to break.
She loved these people. They were her friends and her family and they stood beside her even when they thought she was in the wrong. They trusted her to lead them to victory. But more than that.
They cared for her. And she for them.
Too much to allow them to spend the rest of their lives fighting. Somehow she would win this war for them. She vowed right then to redouble her efforts against the Horde. She smiled tremulously.
Leaning over she lay her hand to the side of Bow's cheek.
"Bow, I swear if I weren't already taken by the man of my dreams I'd ask you to marry me here and now."
Bow's mouth dropped open in shock. "Who- who- who's the lucky guy?" Adora smiled a small secret smile and she leaned down to hug Spirit tight.
"Why Bow, you know there's only room for one stud in my life and that's Spirit." She grinned brilliantly at him. "You realize it's another week in the kitchens for you." Bow laughed.
"Don't be so cocky, I'm going to win this time."
"Uh, huh, sure, keep telling yourself that hero while you make me dinner. Ready, GO!" And Adora sped off. Bow didn't stay still for long, kicking Arrow into a gallop he shot after her.
"You cheated! I wasn't ready, Adora, that's not fair!"
"All's fair in love and war Bow!" She called back.
They raced along the beach, blind in the night save for the twinkling incandescence of a multitude of stars and the instincts of the steeds each trusted with their lives. The thrill of the race was lightning in their blood, a storm brewing in their veins to be unleashed through the speed of their mounts. There was a certain wildness to it, a savage, feral rush, gained racing blindly in the dark and trusting your life to the beast between your legs.
Bow wasn't exactly totally focused on the race however. As Spirit raced ahead Bow had a sweet view of Adora's behind gently rising and falling with the gallop of her horse. Up and down it went, she really was curved beautifully, a broad grin split his face as Adora easily won the race.
"You lost. Again!" She was soooo smug.
"Hey, you don't hear me complaining do you?" Adora stared at him curiously. He was glad it was dark so she couldn't see his face flush red in embarrassment. He asked quickly, "So what was this race, love or war?" A flash of gleaming Ivory teeth illuminated the darkness mere inches from where he sat.
"Both Bow."
"Both?" She had him baffled.
"Love of your cooking and the revolt my stomach was planning if I had to eat my own."
***********************************************
Catra and Mantenna lay prostrate on the cold sterile floor of the throne room. Neither daring to look up as they struggled valiantly to explain their failure to Hordack. An unkind snort boomed across the chamber.
"So, you were unable to defeat Adora and her little friends hmmm? And She-ra wasn't even there. I must say I am not pleased." A broad- shouldered highly muscled figure of doom loomed over them, his dark shadow cast across their quivering forms like evil incarnate. "You will of course have to be punished." He snorted again.
"Rowww, mighty Horrrdack, we attemmmpted to defeat the rebels but that scoundrel Leech, offered no assistance!" Catra whined nearly in panic, remembering the last time she had been punished.
Hordack had a well of creative genius hidden inside his black heart. He liked being original in his punishments. The last time Catra was punished Shadow Weaver tested a spell of sympathetic magic on her and a shrub- as the shrub sickened so had she until the shrub died. Catra had felt the clammy fingers of death creep round her soul- unable to catch hold and take possession. She had felt the death of the plant as if it were her own. She had no desire to repeat the experiment.
"Yeeees! If that blue buffooon had helped out even a liiittle then maybe we could have stopped those rebels!" Mantenna replied eagerly, anxious to put the blame somewhere else.
"That's right!" Hordack thundered curling his blue hand into a fist, "where is that blue boob!"
"Rowww, mighty one, he took off running from the rebels and we haven't seen him since."
"Well, when I get my hands on him he'll wish he'd never been born. As for you two-" Hordack paused to grin evilly, "failure doesn't please me, sooo-" he didn't even finish speaking, he simply pressed a button on the side of his throne and the floor disappeared from under them, they fell six levels into the depths of the Elduro River which ran below his throne room and through the Fright Zone, emptying into the Ocean.
Hordack spun about on his Steel booted heel and stomping over to his throne he threw himself down to pout and ponder this latest development in the Rebellion.
Hordack considered the Rebellion a joke.
His forces were vast and spread across the face of Etheria. Two- thirds of the planet was his. Ruled by him and his many commanders and generals, they kept the populace subjugated, squeezing their tyrannical fist tight enough each year to kill any thoughts of freedom, any hope of escape or any plots of subversion.
The people to the south of the whispering woods knew nothing of the little rebellion to the north, they had never even heard of She-ra. Many however had heard of Adora, the defector. Instead of being angry, Hordack was actually proud of Adora. She was the mind behind the rebellion, eventually he would of course crush it and her, but he enjoyed matching wits with her. She had always been the brightest commander he had ever trained.
She had a head for tactics and fighting a large scale war. The main reason she hadn't beat him back was simply put, she didn't have the manpower he did. The people of Etheria were quick to fight each other and slow to unite against old prejudice. For years people believed trolls evil- only recently had they united to help the rebels.
Thanks to She-ra.
Hordack gritted his teeth. She was the cause of most of his worries, the focus of most of his rage. She had turned Adora against him. He knew it. Adora had once been a ruthless commander, believing she was on the side of right she had done what was necessary to enforce Horde rule.
In fact it was Adora who had designed and implemented the campaign to take Brightmoon and Queen Angella. Then her brother came through a portal from Eternia and with the help of She-ra and that warrior He-man stole his precious protégé from him, breaking the spells Shadow Weaver held her under for ten years.
Adora had been so proficient in her training she surpassed her entire squad with single-minded determination. Hordack had begun training her himself. In weaponry of every kind, in tactics and campaigning, in psychological warfare and hand to hand combat. No one else under his command could even come close to giving him the workout she had, and he had never held back- too much. When Adora had been Force Captain, she had brought out the best qualities in his warriors. Not from being nice to them either but because they did not want to disappoint her. They knew if she was disappointed Hordack was disappointed and if Hordack was disappointed then bad things happened to people.
Hordack still wanted Adora back under his command, running his armies. No one since her had ever done as well. He remembered how upset he was when Adora disappeared the evening She-ra appeared. He had been terrified that the warrior He-man had killed her for shooting him in the back. Later when he had discovered she had betrayed him he had been furious.
Beyond words.
When Skeletor betrayed him he thought his chance to get her back gone forever- but in a surprising twist of fate Adora returned to Etheria, becoming the leader of the rebellion.
Adora liked power. She also liked to win. Traits he had instilled in her from the time she was a child. Traits he had encouraged and seen blossom under his tutelage. He had seen her attempts to whip her rag-tag band of rebels into a fighting force and was pleased to see how well she had done.
Eventually, she would realize she had no hope of winning. It was there Hordack believed he had her. Once she realized the rebels couldn't win he believed she could be wooed back to his side. If only for the good of the people.
Hordack was a very patient man, and he really wanted Adora back. In his entire life he had never cared for anything or anyone as he cared for her.
She was an obsession.
As a baby Adora needed constant care and being new to Etheria, Hordack had cared for her himself. As a baby needing constant attention Hordack became very possessive of her. She grew up at his side. He placed her in a chamber next to his ensuring her safety.
Unlike the others.
Children were picked every four years across the planet and raised in squadrons in the Fright Zone to be soldiers. Adora had never been far. As she grew Hordack realized she possessed a quick mind and keen intellect. Exactly what he would expect from the child of King Randor. She began questioning how he ran things on Etheria at around eleven years of age, so he acquired Shadow Weaver and had her work her dark spells on the child, insuring Adora's continuing and unwavering loyalty.
He had her taught things the other children were never exposed to, politics, philosophy, the history of the Horde and its primary purpose; to organize all the worlds under one vast empire using all the combined resources of each to push further outward and conquer new planets and gain more wealth. She learned everything. He began grooming her as Force Captain at twelve and as his heir at nineteen. She was to succeed him to his throne when he became the next horde master.
All that changed when she broke the spells that held her.
Hordack despised magic now. He relied too much on it to control Adora and it failed him. Shadow Weaver had failed him. She had never stopped paying the price for that failure either.
Hordack believed Adora would return to him because she wanted nothing more than to win and see all her people united under one rule. When she realized that the rebels could never unite she would return to him. Then he would crush the rebellion.
In the meantime he would allow Adora to experience command and realize just how much she enjoyed winning and loathed defeat.
Her return was inevitable. He was a part of who she was, he had helped engineer the way she thought, he knew her better than she knew herself. And when she returned, She-ra would pose no threat, he had a card he knew she would never suspect he had, he was merely holding it in reserve until Adora rejoined him.
Leech on the other hand was a coward who was quickly out living his usefulness. If anything would unite the people against the Horde it would be a threat to their children. He would have to be punished severely. If he ever showed up.
