Pride...Before the Fall

by Pidgerii

He-Man, the Knight of Castle Grayskull is slain at the hands of his enemy. Eternia's few heroes must now band together to defeat the threat of a global war ministered by the evil Skeletor.

2. Pride...Before the Fall book 2

Part 21

Duncan and Marlena sat talking in Marlena's quarters. Marlena expressed her fears to a grave looking man at arms who listened intently. "I think Marlena," he started, "that your own ability to question your decisions speaks volumes, I don't think you're losing you're grip on this situation. As long you know that you're not infallible you have nothing to fear."

Marlena responded with a weak smile, "Thank you Duncan, that doesn't necessarily make me feel better, but thank you anyway."

"I must admit, I did not expect Stratos to react so poorly to the Wind Raiders but, in retrospect I suppose we should've seen it coming." Duncan continued.

"He sees them as a threat, the single most thing that has protected the Avionians is their ability to fly, now, it must seem to him, that safety net has been stripped away." She hoped they had not isolated the Avionian ambassador and thus the alliance with Avion itself. "I may need to sit down with Stratos and try to allay his fears before anything drastic happens."

"That would be a good idea." Duncan agreed. Shifting subject he asked, "What of the command for the two forces, how are you going to split them?"

"I've given it much thought, but the pieces never quite seem to fit together. I feel like I can't trust any of the nobles to vouchsafe the integrity of the crown's secrets. That would mean giving you command of one of the forces, yet, I need you by my side. You're the only thing making me feel secure right now." Marlena chewed her lip, she could not for the life of her see a way to safely split the command of the land and combined air/sea forces.

"Might I volunteer a solution?" Duncan asked.

Marlena gave another weak smile, "By all means."

Taking a deep breath Duncan said, "I think we have to choose between the lesser of two evils here. Ordinarily I would trust Arataan implicitly, but given his obvious desire for our technology we need to cuff him a little bit. I say we saddle him with Enthas and Ohrgustus and give him command of the ground force. This way you and I have supervision of the air/sea force, which is what the nobles covet the most at this stage. Also, the inherent distrust between north and south provides a stumbling block between Enthas/Ohrgustus and Arataan should they consider conspiring between themselves."

Marlena nodded along, she hadn't thought in those terms. But she did have one question, "If we are to travel by sea, then we'll need to make use of Helvae's fleet to carry supplies, Arataan might insist and I don't see how we could refuse him, on overseeing the deployment of his ships without causing offense."

"Again, we make use of his distrust of the north. Would he rather leave the Attak Trak and Battle Ram technology unguarded, in the hands of the northerners? Plus he can send with us his son, Lord Agantraas as his advocate. We benefit again in that Agantraas is not quite not high enough to look upon you in semi-equal terms, his service would be more unquestioning than that of his father's." Another thought occurred to Duncan, "Also, we will have Stratos in our group, who can keep an eye on our use of the Wind Raiders and witness first hand our intent."

The idea had the most sense of any she had devised herself, yet she had her doubts. It all sounded good and that was the problem.

"Nothing is foolproof Marlena," Duncan said in response to her doubts, "but we find ourselves having to choose the lesser evil."

"Then if there's nothing else," she said with a yawn, "then I will retire for the night. We sail tomorrow." Her face became stern, "This time we take the fight to Skeletor and this time we will make him regret the day he ever came to Eternia."

After Duncan exited her room she tried to lay back peacefully, a task made impossible by the fears gnawing away at her stomach. 'Tomorrow we sail for war' she thought. She told herself over and over again that she was leading them into war, yet it never quite seemed real, she had never seen first-hand the effects of war, even with all those television images she had seen back home, it never seemed real. War, war…war.

Part 22

Kisana pulled her shawl even further about her shoulders, it was probably her imagination but it always felt as though she was being stared at. It was ridiculous, she knew there was nothing about her that could be called distinguished. All her life her mediocrity had plagued her. Taunted as child, snubbed as an adolescent.

When she reached the age of sixteen her parents despairing of her finding a husband sent her to the Magi Academia to train as a mystic. That was before the Horde came. Hordak and his minions came to Eternia and plunged the nation into the most prolific war it had ever seen. Being a sorcerer, Hordak knew the dangers the "witches" could cause his plans. He sought to eliminate this threat with brutal prejudice.

The Horde killed any mystics they found on site those known to harbor mystics were granted the same fate. It was not long before the people started to do the Horde's work for them. Paranoia led Eternian citizenry to resent the witches and what their presence could bring upon them. Even now, twenty years after its' defeat, people still feared that the wrath of the Horde would be wrought upon the mystics and their allies. In some ways, Skeletor's appearance on Eternia confirmed this fear.

So it was, whenever Kisana ventured into populated territory she felt as though her dalliance in the arcane had somehow marked her physically, giving way her identity. It was an irrational belief, but hunted people had very little use for reason. But she had to come here to the village the woods didn't grow what she needed. At least she had no need to dawdle around, she would get what she needed and then be gone again. She had come to hate civilisation during her exile, the less time she spent around people the better. It was stupid, she could barely light a campfire with what training she had, yet they still called her "Witch".

Part 23

Skeletor rubbed temples that were no longer there. It was an act of concentration more than anything else Mer-Man and his underlings had failed to stop Randor and his group of warriors. He shouldn't worry himself about it too much, they were still some distance from wherever it was they planned to make landfall, when they did, they would need more than fire to turn back their next surprise.

Skeletor walked over to a window overlooking the Great Eternian Ocean, sometime soon Randor would sail past, somewhere beyond the horizon. Skeletor would not be foiled, He-Man was gone and all that was left between him and complete domination were these few dissidents. They had no great power of their own. A knocking at the throne room door caught Skeletor's attention. "Come in!" he commanded.

Evil-Lyn, Tri-Klops and Beastman entered the room. Each bowed as they saw him. Skeletor looked over his henchmen and henchwomen as the case may be. Beastman the hulking shaggy man-beast. His fur was dirty and matted as it always was. Tri-Klops the tri-cloptic swordsman. His sparse leather armour covered only his shoulders, it was all he needed no-one could ever get close enough to wound him. He wore a head dress in which his optical devices were set. The headpiece could never be removed Skeletor had fused it to his cranium to ensure that. Then, there was Evil-Lyn.

The disgraced daughter of a minor noble, she was sent to the Magi Academia to repent her sins, to cleanse her immortal soul. Then The Horde came to Eternia, destroying the Magi Academia in its' wake, all its residents were to scatter or be slaughtered where they stood. Evil-Lyn fled to Aohre's Peak and put herself at Skeletor's mercy. He took her in as his concubine and in return taught to her some of the secrets he himself had learned. But there was no chance that he would teach her enough to ever threaten him.

"The King has eluded us yet again." He said aloud, but addressing her. "It is my belief that he will dock to the north, I want you three to take Webstor and Trap Jaw with you to Codestan and await his arrival." They all nodded obediently, as they should. "You are all dismissed…except you Lyn." She looked at him quizzically.

"Is something wrong my Lord?"

"Yes." Skeletor replied simply, "There have been small fluctuations in the energies emanating from the south."

Evil-Lyn still looked lost, "What does this have to do with me?"

"One of your kind still walks the land, she could pose a threat to us." Skeletor looked hard at Lyn, looking for some sign that perhaps she might balk at the idea of eliminating one of her former sisters.

"The Magi Sisterhood was little more than a gaggle of geese, their abilities make them street performers before your might. Why worry yourself over one of these charlatans?"

"The Magi can be a thorn and a thorn left untended digs itself deep into the flesh, gradually infecting its host and causing great damage. That can be prevented by simply plucking said thorn and disposing of it." Evil-Lyn nodded. "Now, no more questions, I want you to track down this witch and rid us of her presence. She may trust you as a sister whereas if one of the others were to approach her she would more than likely flee thus this task falls to you."

Evil-Lyn took her leave to prepare for her departure. Skeletor also had another agenda in sending Evil-Lyn to the task, once she took the blood of her own kind she would slip even deeper within Skeletor's grasp. He demanded absolute loyalty of his subjects and the only way to ensure that was to have them destroy the tattered remnants of their pasts. Tri-Klops was a freak who could never move conspicuously amongst the 'normal' people, no community would accept him. Beastman, an amalgamation of man and wolf, a bastard hybrid of two completely species, he would never be accepted by anyone of man or animal kingdom. Then there was Evil-Lyn, not yet subservient enough for Skeletor's liking. That would change soon, very soon.

Part 24

A cold wind blew off the mountains and out onto the ocean, its' gusts flapped the short cloak of Randor, King of Eternia. He gazed out towards the mountain range on the distant shore. He strained his eyes looking for a glimpse of the place he once called home that was until Skeletor seized the Peak for his own. Closing his eyes against the wind Randor recalled his childhood at the Peak.

He remembered fondly the fire-lit halls of the keep, running through the corridors playing games of tag with his younger brother, Keldor. Playing amongst the parapets to see if they could see the Avionians soaring amongst the clouds. His mother and father repeatedly admonishing him and his brother for playing in places they should not be. It all changed when Randor turned fourteen.

Randor's grandfather passed away that year and so the family had to move to Eternos in the South so that Miro, his father, could assume the Eternian Crown, that is, with the exception of Keldor. As firstborn it would fall to Randor to succeed his father to the throne, as the second born Keldor would inherit Aohre's Peak and the mantle of North Guardian. So that day, when the Aohre clan found out of Grandpa Stemdor lay dying, young Keldor was left in the care of his Uncle, also named Keldor, only able to see his family sporadically over the years. Randor wished that it were the biting winds that bought unbidden tears to his eyes. Duty tore from the Aohre boys their childhoods, it stung, Randor had not realised how much until now as he stood here looking for a glimpse of his once home.

A svelte arm draped itself around his shoulders. Randor looked down to see Teela standing beside him, she looked back up at him with big brown eyes. "What are you thinking of Randor?"

He looked back towards the shore once again, "About the past, wondering if that perhaps in my wish to not repeat the mistakes of the past have resulted in new mistakes being made in the present." Randor sighed deeply, "My family was torn apart when my father took the throne. I wanted Adam to never experience what I did." More tears fell from his eyes, "I sheltered from the burden of duty and now I fear that he went into a situation he was not prepared for." Teela put her other arm around him and he buried his face in her hair, grateful for the human contact. He needed it he had been weeks away from his wife, weeks away from his son, weeks away from the last time he knew comfort. A comfort it was, he was cold and needed to be warm again and the numbness he felt had nothing to do with the chill wind blowing out off the mountains.

From this high above the ground the air was always cold. He wrapped his arms about himself as the cold stung his bones. In the hearth someway behind him a fire flared into existence of its own volition, torches mounted along the wall took life without prompting. It still did scant good the chill permeated every part of his being. Looking out of the window, scanning the horizon, Skeletor fancied he could see a ship sailing past the sunset. It was so cold - he was so cold.

Part 25

Helvae City was a massive affair, the city, almost as old as Eternos, Helvae was three cities rolled into one. Before Marlena the great gates of Maragus loomed above. Maragus was the newest of the Helvae's three parts, an extension of its two predecessors. Several miles down the Duke's Way they would come to the gates of Erevem and beyond that, Antraeus, the basis of the entire city.

Antraeus was founded as a port-trading town. It's prosperity as such ensure its expansion, doing so until it engulfed surrounding villages and spawning the new cities in the process. First time visitors to Helvae marveled at the breadth of the multi-tiered city, but for Marlena, this was just another trip to a familiar place.

Duke Arataan had ridden ahead to his palace to oversee the final preparations for her arrival. The usually open Duke of Helvae had been a lot more reserved since Marlena's refusal of his request to train more pilots. It was all she needed – Arataan sullen because of her declination and Stratos still upset over the Eternian's newfound flying abilities. Why couldn't everyone be happy that they had weapons with which to battle Skeletor?

She had a feeling things were going to get worse, an envoy from Kaetor had arrived sometime within the last few days and had spoken to no one, insistent that he talk only to Ohrgustus. No doubt it would result in the Kaetorean count asking for some form of action that would somehow give him a little more power than she trusted him with. They were all like that – the Eternian nobles, every change in the wind they took as meaning that they should have their own pilots, their own vehicles, the secrets of the new technology, etc. She still had grave reservations about letting three of them in charge of the ground vehicles, but what else could she do? It was a case of choosing the lesser evil.

The wagons rumbled through the gates of Erevem. Great, still about forty- five minutes of this wagon ride left. She looked across at the opposing bench where Duncan sat, sleeping peacefully. How he could do that she did not know, three weeks in this wagon and she could begin to imagine how salt in a shaker felt. She tried to rest her head against the coach's walls, as much as she could with the rude bouncing treating her like a tennis ball. It was with great relief some forty minutes later that the gates of Antraeus rolled into view.

Marlena desperately wanted to stretch as she climbed off the wagon's steps, but a rapidly massing crowd laid rest to that idea. For some reason she had never been able to fathom people did not like to see their rulers acting human. You always had to maintain a facade of implacability – you did not stretch or act tired, you never showed the effects of the weather, etc, etc. She could not help but wonder what it would do to Eternian society if she were to openly pass wind. The waiting Duke Arataan looked puzzled at Marlena's barely suppressed smile, just as well for her he could not read her mind.

"Your Majesty" he said with a flourish, "the city of Helvae and its peoples welcome you with open arms. You grace us with your presence and our lives are the more richer for having been exposed to your person." He said in the traditional Helvaen manner. Marlena hated these 'traditional' greetings, she did not feel that there was any more empty gesture possible. Hollow words spoken of any dignitary who "graced" any given city with their presence. She wouldn't be surprised to hear the same words spoken to Skeletor would he have ridden into the city at that point.

Some more words were spoken for the other nobles that had ridden in with Marlena and Arataan, though Marlena had no mind to listen to even more inane, insincere ramblings. By the Twelve she needed a bath, a nice, hot steaming tub of water to sluice off three weeks of traveling in that forsaken wagon. Heaven knows she would not have a proper bath for Gods know how long once they sailed for Aohre's Peak.

That night a freshly scrubbed Queen of Eternia sat at the head of the feasting table. To her right sat the Helvaen Duke, who in turn was seated beside his wife, Duchess Aphomir of Medhir. Beside the Duchess sat her three daughters – Alaana, Aephostra and Artaana. Marlena wondered what the Helvaen fixation was with having so many A's in their names. Sitting across from Aephostra and Alaana were their husbands – Jorgas of Gammistan and Blax of Cheircry. Gammistan was a small province sandwiched in between Eternos and Helvae, while Cheircry was an Eternosii region far to the east of Eternos City.

Randor had in the past, tried to persuade Arataan that his daughter's should take Northern husbands. Arataan knew the political benefits of such alliances but still could not bring himself to marry his daughters off to "greedy Northerners". Randor left it at that, astute enough to realise that his giving advice on political marriages might seem comical given his own nuptials. But it was not the two eldest daughters that interested Marlena, but Artaana, the youngest.

Small, petite, pretty was how Marlena would sum her up. The youngest lady met Marlena's eyes for a moment and then quickly looked down, abashed. This was the woman to whom the Duke wished Adam married? She was awfully shy, Adam wouldn't know what to do with a wife that couldn't talk back. He had grown up alongside surly Teela, who could best any man in a battle of wits. Not to mention that he was reared by a woman who had shaken Eternian society when she came plummeting from the stars twenty-two years ago. That they were using cutlery at this feast was testament to that. She looked towards Duncan who had been seated opposite the young lady, he looked at her as though he knew what she were thinking. He probably did, in some ways Adam was the son he never had and thus always looked out for Adam's best interests.

An amusing thought occurred to Marlena – the Duke had three daughters, two married and one still a maiden. She wondered if she should ever tell him the story of King Lear? Perhaps not. But the Duke also had a son – Agantraas, who now was overseeing the preparation of the convoy that would sail with the warships carrying the Wind Raiders. That was something she would still like to see changed about Eternian society – Agantraas was not the firstborn of Arataan, but he is the firstborn and only son. This archaic notion that women were somehow unfit to rule solely. She guessed that's why she had made such a crusade of this mission, to prove the female worthiness in the elite levels of society.

It was some hours later, much to Marlena's chagrin that the feast ended. She hated these gatherings with the nobles, all pompous self-indulgence while fawning over her for political favour. She lay on the bed laid out for her by the servants, it was nice to feel a comfortable mattress at her back. Unfortunately that would last only as long as it took for the warships to arrive, which would be any day now. Then it was off to face the inevitable.

Part 26

Hamon came back to where they had made landfall. "There appears to be no signs of life, it's dead quiet." He reported.

"Too quiet for my liking." Murmured Fisto.

"How so friend?" asked Randor.

"I don't think Deadeye was joking when he said 'dead quiet'; I can't see any signs of animal activity." He replied. "Deadeye," he called to the archer, "can you see any wildlife at all?"

Hamon's eyes looked slowly in every direction before he answered, "Nay Fisto, there aren't even any birds in the sky."

"This is strange," Fisto continued, "normally animals make themselves scarce only when there's a natural disaster about to strike, or has struck." He turned and looked towards the clouds sitting above the ocean, "There are no storm clouds gathering," he looked again at the vast plain that lay before them, "no fire smoke, no scarred ground…" Fisto could only shake his head, "…I don't know, I just don't know."

Teela had an idea, "Beastman!" All eyes turned to her, "Beastman can commune with animals that may be why there are none to be found in the immediate vicinity."

Randor shook his head " I don't see how that explains their absence. Are you saying that his presence causes creatures to go into hiding?"

"No!" Teela replied, "I'm saying that he is gathering them in readiness to attack us!" She had caught their attention fully with that observation. "A few months back I was escorting Adam through the South Evergreen when a silence feel over the woods, that was only moments before we were attacked by a host of animals – bears, wolves, hawks."

Teela looked uneasily over the empty plain, "That incident reminds me of now, the emptiness is telling."

"Well" Randor spoke, "thanks to Teela we can now rest uneasily." He jested.

"What do you suggest Your Majesty?" asked Lightwinch.

"If Skeletor has laid a trap for us then it might be best to head towards civilisation, his warriors are unlikely to attack us in a populated area." Surmised Randor. "Perhaps we should start moving south-west for Asen City."

"You think to seek the Count of Codestan's help m'lord?" asked Wael.

"Nay Isro, I would still prefer the less who knew of us the better." Randor smiled, "Plus I admit that it would be nice to spend a night or two in a bed after weeks in both saddle and ship-deck."

"If I may make a suggestion Randor?" asked Deadeye. Next to Randor, Argus Hamon was the most experienced soldier in their little group. Hamon waited for Randor's approval before continuing. "I say we wait here for the night."

"Why so?" Randor asked.

"If we continue to trek all Skeletor's men have to do is pick us off when we tire, which, considering we've been weeks traveling, is not that far away." Randor nodded at that. "If we pitch camp now," Deadeye continued, "then we can rest now under the light of the sun when Skeletor's toadies are unlikely to attack. Come nightfall, when they are likely to attack then we will be rested and fresh to face them."

"I see." said Randor.

"Furthermore, I would much rather fight on this plain than risk being ambushed in the woods that await us. I know personally speaking that I can't fight in the woods."

"It makes sense," Randor agreed. "We make camp here, now."

As camp was set up discussion turned to the watch shifts. Randor volunteered to take the first shift, Lightwinch the second, then Teela, Wael, Fisto and finally Hamon. It was decided that Hamon should take the deep night watch as his keen eyesight could penetrate the darkness better than any body else. Everyone except Randor settled in to get whatever sleep they could manage. Teela watched as Randor walked away from the camp and found a place to sit for his watch. She wondered what must be running through his mind; soon the search for his son would begin in earnest. With the threat of Skeletor's minions looming the way was going to become more dangerous. And there was something else, something that had been bothering her for weeks now. Something she did not want to consider. She shut her eyes, not so much to sleep, but to try and block out the unpleasant thoughts and images that had seared themselves into her imagination. Please no, let this not be happening.

Part 27

Tri-Klops knelt beside an ash tree and watched. He watched it all, their landing, their surveillance, their discussions and their camp. He watched the king as he took the first watch. He watched the king as he scanned the horizon. He watched.

Before he had sworn servitude to Skeletor, Tri-Klops had been a mercenary swordsman, one of the best in fact. When he wasn't in paid service he was looking for competition. To be the best you had to beat the best. Skeletor had told him that the Eternian king was one of the very best. That would remain to be seen. Tonight Tri-Klops would put Skeletor's claim to the test. But until then, he was content to watch.

Webstor silently stood behind him, not that it took Tri-Klops by surprise. He may have been watching Randor, but he was also watched Webstor enter their encampment and he was also able to view Beastman picking lice from his 'pets'. People feared Tri-Klops before, when he was known as Ronin Steelord, before his transformation at the hands of his skeletal master. As Tri-Klops he was three times more lethal. No enemy could take him unawares; many had tried to their own sorrow.

"The webs have been spun and the traps laid." The arachnoid announced. Unlike himself, Webstor was a member of a race of arachnoids – humanoid spiders. Though Tri-Klops was hardly able to judge, the arachnoids were to him, a viciously ugly race. They had gangly, albeit only four limbs. Their entire bodies were covered in short, coarse, wiry fur that was usually slick with sweat. Their grotesque faces featured eyes that reflected light in a way to suggest they were multi-faceted, snouts formed their noses and a mouth full of tiny, venom injecting teeth. Yes they were ugly, but damned if he was going to say that to their hideous faces.

"Good." Tri-Klops did not move. "Go back and relax for a while. I'll let you know when we will attack." Webstor bowed his head and departed Tri- Klops presence. Skeletor's mandate gave Tri-Klops a respect amongst his peers, peers that included creatures more dangerous than him. Tri-Klops watched as the arachnoid walked back to his companions. Tri-Klops watched as Beastman, having tired of de-licing his pets now lay flat on his back allowing the sun's beams to warm his underbelly (as much as a biped had an underbelly). But most of all he watched the enemy, soon Tri-Klops soon.

Part 28

Argus Hamon stalked the perimeter of the encampment. He hated this, not knowing what to expect. Under normal circumstances a soldier might at the worst, expect to have their throat slit while they slept. But one never knew what to expect when dealing with Skeletor. There could be fire called from the sky, enemies might materialise from nowhere. Hamon's career as an archer had been defined by his extraordinary vision, it had saved the Eternian armies many times from ambush. They called him 'Deadeye' because his eyesight was deadly accurate his vision could be trusted, except in these circumstances.

As it was when they landed, the plain was shrouded in silence as though no sound could penetrate. His eyes darted every which way, the attack could come at any time, from any place. He momentarily closed his eyes as an owl hooted in the distance. He took a few more steps before realising what he had heard. "To arms! To arms!" he screamed.

The sleeping rolls lying on the ground were tossed aside as the rest of the warriors came awake. Within the space of a heartbeat they were armed and poised to fight. Hamon looked at the open plain and saw a pack of wolves charging across the open ground led by the loping Beastman. They were being followed by a group of arachnoids. Trailing them were Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw, two of Skeletor's most feared lackeys.

"Hamon! Fall back!" Randor commanded. He obeyed while loosing arrow upon arrow at the canine charge. Several of the rabid creatures fell to Deadeye's steel rain, though the only slightly more intelligent Beastman knew to avoid the arrows at all costs. As the wolves edged closer Randor, Fisto, Clamp Champ and Teela formed a line and braced themselves for the inevitable impact. Isro waited behind Hamon, looking about nervously as though he were expecting the shadows to leap out and throttle him. As well he should – thought Hamon.

As soon as the wolves were within range Randor's line launched spears at their foes. A few more wolves went down. Ear piercing howls shattered the night air as finally the two lines met. The warriors swung their blades wide, taking out even more of Beastman's servants. Their master leaped over the line but was caught by one of Hamon's arrows. Beastman cried out in pain and beat a hasty retreat calling his pets to his aid.

The Eternian warriors had no time for respite as the arachnoids immediately entered the fray. The suddenness of the attack threw the frontline back a few steps. "Fall back!" Hamon cried out. During the melee Hamon had set Wael to preparing the pitch and naptha concoction for the fire arrows. He would see how well these spiders burn.

A bonfire tore apart the night's shroud. Inhuman screams shred through the nerves of the warriors. Hamon turned to light some more shafts as a still burning arachnoid escaped the conflagration and threw itself at Hamon. "Argus! Watch out, behind you!" yelled Wael.

Hamon spun about but it was too late as the hideous creature grabbed the archer in its fiery embrace. Hamon's shill screams drowned out even that of the burning spider-men, the one attached to his back sunk its venomous fangs into his exposed jugular, eliciting even more tortured cries. Teela let out a battle-cry as she swung her blade down hard across the arachnoid's skull. But it was too late, as the arachnoid's form slid to the ground, so did the form of Argus Hamon. His face frozen in a terrifying mask of contorted agony. His eyes wide with pain, a reflection of his last moments.

Part 29

The king yelled at the heavens. There were no discernible words, just a cry of frustration and rage. It had the properties of the wolves' cries, primal, fearful. When he had done his own face took on a look of rage, as though sanity and reason had been stripped away. Teela feared that's what happened as the king launched himself headfirst against the remaining arachnoids.

Where moments before the king wielded his sword in defense, it was now raised in anger, used in rage. He swung his blade recklessly, taking the fight to the grotesques with all the fury of a beserker. Fisto, Clam Champ, Teela and even Isro fought alongside him. Their own rage fuelling them to levels of violence they never thought existed within them. Every trial, tribulation they faced in their lives. Every moment of grief, anger and frustration they had ever experienced. And the loss they had been delivered now. It all came to the surface. Time and movement were a blur, all that mattered were the demons they faced, that now taunted them relentlessly. Those demons needed to be defeated, slain, so that they may never again rise to haunt their hosts.

The last of the spider-men fell to the bilious blades of the Eternians. Firelight bathed them in an orange glow. The blood of their enemies soaked their garments, bathing them in a dark, crimson wash. But the fight was not yet over.

"Randor!" a voice called through the fire. Two figures walked around either side of the fire. On the left side stood Trap Jaw, one of Skeletor's favored abominations. Instead of flesh and bone, his mandible was cold, hard iron, a psychotic with a lethal overbite. His right arm was a mechanical construct to which he would attach various tools of sadistic origin. At this time a morningstar swung off the end of the unnatural limb.

But it was the figure approaching from the right that had called to the king – Tri-Klops, Skeletor's master of the sword. He halted his approach and stood facing the king directly. "Randor, King of Eternia, I challenge you in fair combat. Between the two of us, we can decide who lives and who dies this night. Dare you face me?"

The king said nothing, just a slight nod of the head. Tri-Klops grinned, a new prized scalp for his collection. Both warriors raised their swords in salute before striking their ready stances. Tri-Klops held his massive two- handed broadsword in front of him. Randor stood with his longsword, its tip directed towards his quarrel. The both men struck, their swords splitting the air with a distorted peal of steel on steel.

"Sho, who wantsh to fight me?" Trap Jaw challenged in his lisping speech.

It was Fisto that stepped forward first "Let it be you and I you metallised freak." Trap Jaw laughed as he whirled the morningstar around his head. Fisto advanced with his sword gripped in his left hand, his large gauntlet sitting on his right. They circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. It was Trap Jaw that struck first, swinging the morningstar at his foe's head.

Blade met blade, blow for blow, tit for tat as Randor and Tri-Klops looked for an opening in their opponent's defenses. Even with the benefit of tri- cloptic vision, Skeletor's underling was hard pressed against the Eternian King. Randor truly was an opponent of worth, this victory would be his sweetest. Tri-Klops swung an underhanded blow at Randor, there, his arms lifted just a little, that was the opening he was looking for.

Where Tri-Klops and Randor were locked in close combat, Trap Jaw and Fisto were yet to land a blow. Each man knew that one mistake, the first mistake, would have fatal consequences. Trap Jaw's whirling morningstar created a near impenetrable shield. While in turn, between Fisto's blade and his gauntlet, he too was unapproachable.

Trap Jaw swung for Fisto's head. Ducking the blow Fisto thrust his sword into Trap Jaw's leg. Trap Jaw reeled back to give himself room as Fisto lunged forward. Fisto fell to the ground and Trap Jaw changed his swing to bring the morningstar down on his opponent. Acting on instinct Fisto rolled to his side as chunks of turf and grass were sent flying. He regained his feet in time to see another blow coming towards him. This time he would not be put off balance. He reared back his fist and smashed the morningstar flinging it back and catching Trap Jaw full in the face. Skeletor's minion was swept off his feet from the force of the impact. Moments later the twitching stopped, Trap Jaw had been defeated.

Both men bled from the various nicks and cuts they had inflicted on each other. They each took a step back, reassessing the situation, panting heavily with exhaustion. The moment was brief as battle was again soon engaged. Randor was weakening fast, years of throne-sitting had robbed him of the vitality he once possessed as a soldier. Randor knew he had to take a desperate gamble, or he would save Tri-Klops the trouble and topple over from weariness.

Randor saw his opportunity when Tri-Klops thrust at his mid-section. Parrying the blow with his own blade, Randor brought his elbow to Tri- Klop's face. Caught off-guard he staggered back and Randor back swung his sword but Tri-Klops managed to bring his own back up, just barely. Again both men backed up to reassess their options.

Tri-Klops was fast losing his temper. Everything he tried against Randor came up with no dividends. Who would've thought the old fool could've troubled him this much? That last move almost worked, he nearly sheared Tri-Klops in half. He looked across at the venerable King of Eternia, yes he was tiring, but so was Tri-Klops. The way things were going Tri-Klops did not want to risk falling over before he could slay Randor. The more he thought about the possibility of losing, the angrier he became, Tri-Klops never contemplated defeat. With that fear driving him on, Tri-Klops attacked.

Randor was taken aback by the sudden fury of Tri-Klop's attack. The man swung his broadsword around as if it were a flail it was all Randor could do to keep him from taking his head off. Randor tried a desperate thrust at Tri-Klops' head, Tri-Klops reacted by bringing his sword back up, landing the flat of his blade on Randor's right wrist. The blow crushed the limb and Randor could do little but drop his sword. Tri-Klops kicked the king to his back and held his blade to the king's chest.

"Yield!" he demanded.

Randor stared back with hate filled eyes. "When they sky turns to lava, then I will yield. When the oceans become mud, then will I yield. I will yield when you lick the dirt from my boot. Only then will I yield to you and your villainous master!"

Tri-Klops sneered "The King Randor, you die."

He raised his sword to drive it down hard upon the King's exposed form, as he did a dagger flew squarely into his front eye. Tri-Klops fell, dropping his sword as well. As Tri-Klops dropped to the ground screaming, his blade fell into the stomach of King Randor.

Randor heard a woman scream "Randor! Nooo!" Faces above looked down upon him with concern. 'It's okay' he wanted to tell them, 'It's nothing life threatening.' But he could not form the words his mouth refused to cooperate. Come to think of it, nothing he tried seemed to work. It mattered not, he was tired and soon he would sleep. Everything would be fine after a rest yes sleep was what he needed. Why did he fancy he could hear a woman crying? Where could that be coming from? Don't worry lady, I'll be back soon, I just need a little rest. Goodnight…for…now.

Part 30

The E.R.S. Cloudlauncher sliced through the waves of the Great Eternian Ocean. Marlena stood atop the fore deck of the massive twin-masted 'carrier'. The Cloudlauncher and Skyraker had been custom built to carry the precious assets that now sat on the launching platforms. The launching platforms ran the length of the ship and then some.

The Eternian Queen was nervous. Tomorrow they would be within range of Aohre's Peak and their offensive, for better or worse they would take the fight to Skeletor. The situation had become more desperate. Back in Helvae Count Ohrgustus had received word that the Kaetorean Front had been breached, if Kaetor fell then it wouldn't be long before the entire north would fall. When they received the news Marlena gave permission for Arataan's ground force to leave early. Even with the head start they had Marlena's crew would still beat the ground force by several days.

It was so hard to conceive, that within the next few days the fate of Eternia would be decided. Either Skeletor would be defeated, or the Eternians would die trying. There could be no middle ground.

Stratos flew in from the North and landed on the Cloudlauncher. "What news do you bring friend Stratos?"

"The northern allies have sent all their forces into Kaetor. This has allowed them to stall Skeletor just inside the border." Stratos reported.

"They won't hold long, not without a fort to retreat to." Marlena mused. "What of Skeletor, is he in the field?"

"Nay, he stays within the peak."

"All we need is for the northerners to hold out a few days then we can crush Skeletor in a vise."

"You make it sound so easy." Said Stratos.

"Nothing is ever easy, but we must maintain hope in our ability to succeed." Marlena replied. "Inform the other ships of these tidings and make sure they know we attack on the morrow."

"As you command Your Majesty." Stratos bowed his head before flying away.

Marlena looked out to sea, tomorrow there were debts to be collected and she was determined to make Skeletor pay. For the people of Eternia, for her husband, for her son, she would make him pay. On Earth there was a saying – "Hell hath no fury…" Skeletor would learn the truth of that to his sorrow.

Part 31

It was dawn and Marlena was again standing atop the Cloudlauncher's deck. Lord Agantraas showed her a break in the Eternian Alps range. There lay Aohre's Peak.

"As soon as Skyraker indicates its readiness give the signal to attack. We'll give Skeletor an early wake up call." She commanded.

Agantraas gave a wicked smile "As it will be Majesty." He said bowing.

Marlena walked across to the launching platform, she watched as the pilots readied the Cloudlauncher's two Wind Raiders. She looked over at the Skyraker's platform as its pilots made ready. Marlena did a double take, one of those pilots looked a little too familiar.

"Duncan! Duncan!" she yelled at the other ship but to no avail, there was no way she could be heard at that distance. Frantically she looked around for Stratos, he was still on the Skyraker. She espied him and waved frantically for his attention. Stratos saw the signal and immediately flew over.

"What the hell is Duncan doing, he's not supposed to be manning the aircraft?" she demanded to know.

"Sir Duncan asked me to let you know not to fear. He knows those machines better than anyone and felt that he should be leading the air raid." Stratos explained.

"Did I permit it? Did he ask his Queen if I approved?" Marlena was becoming more and more enraged. "Command him to desist from this action immediately."

It was too late, the Skyraker crew had already indicated its readiness and as per his orders, Lord Agantraas had given the signal to commence the offensive. The roar of the Raider's engines erupted into existence. Their powerful whines drowning out all sound. Next the thrusters ignited. The launch crew signaled the Skyraker's Raider's to fly out first. Duncan' raider began its take off maneuver, rolling slowly to life and gradually picking up speed until it was going so impossibly fast that it flew off the end of the platform. The ship's crews looked on in amazement as history was being made, the first time such weapons would be used in battle.

Soon all four wind raiders were airborne and wending their way towards Aohre's Peak. Marlena watched anxiously, she would have felt a little better had Duncan not taken it upon himself to lead the team. There was no point in fretting, it would only bring the rest of the crew down. All she could do was to watch and wait.

Skeletor watched from the window of the oceanside tower. He could scarcely believe his eye sockets. Four sky borne vehicles were flying toward his keep. This was their plan was it, to surprise him with new toys? Let them come, he too had a few tricks under his cape.

Duncan was checking his gauges when his wingman's voice spoke through the radio receiver. "Sir, something seems to be wrong."

"What is it Jace?" the grizzled old veteran asked.

"There appears to be an earthquake, the mountains are shaking."

Duncan looked at the Alps, sure enough boulders were rolling down the slopes, avalanches were quickly forming in various spots. That there would be tremors in the Alps was not unusual, a quake of this magnitude was however. Something very powerful was motivating this activity. "All units keep your heads up and eyes open, something is up."

Duncan and his wingman approached the Peak the rumbling reached a climactic level. Suddenly, the sky seemed to darken. It took Duncan a moment to realise that the sky was still as it should be, it was the massive scaly form that had slid in front of the sun that gave the illusion of nightfall. Jace screamed through the intercom, Duncan looked out the side of his cockpit to see his wingman disappear into the maw of a giant serpent.

"Scatter and regroup we need to rethink our approach." Duncan yelled through the intercom.

"What in six hells is that thing?" screamed Korsak from his Raider.

"It doesn't matter what it is just retreat!" Duncan commanded.

"What do we do now?" a frantic Nador asked from his craft.

"We put these weapons to the test. As soon as you have it in your sights open fire."

"In our sights? That bloody thing couldn't be any more in our sights, it's massive!" Korsak yelled.

Marlena and Agantraas looked on in horror from the Cloudlauncher. "What in the name of all Twelve Gods has Skeletor conjured." Marlena said breathlessly. Agantraas was wordless, what was there to say. Several crewmen had fallen to their knees and started praying incoherently.

They watched as the Wind Raiders regrouped and turned back towards Aohre's Peak and its reptilian guardian. "What are they thinking? They should return, for Gods' sake return." Cried Marlena.

"I'll warn them." Stratos volunteered.

Marlena ran after the winged warrior "Stratos no, don't go near that thing!" It was to no avail, the Avionian had already taken to the skies.

Lead rain hailed upon the giant snake. Duncan could not believe his eyes as the bullets bounced uselessly from its hide. "Look for a weak spot, we can't penetrate its skin."

"What about the eyes?" Nador asked through the speaker.

"One of us would have to hold its attention so another can get a clear lock." Said Korsak.

"I'll do it!" said Duncan. "Wait until I have it following me before you swoop in."

Duncan flew across the serpent's snout, it took the bait and lunged for Duncan's Raider. Korsak flew in on its blindside. He opened fire upon the serpent's eye. The bullets flew true and the massive creature reared back in agony, blood spurting from its maimed eye socket.

"Look it's still coming." Observed Nador.

"Aren't snakes supposed to be blind?" Korsak asked.

Duncan shook his head, there was only one more option left to them. "We're going to have to feed this over-sized son of an earthworm."

"What are you talking about sir." Nador inquired.

"We'll fire our missiles directly into its gullet. If that doesn't put it down then nothing will."

The three remaining Wind Raiders again broke and regrouped. They bore down head on to the serpent. The creature wasted no time, it reared back its head, poised to strike. "Fire! Duncan commanded. All three unleashed their warheads simultaneously and veered away. Six missiles flew straight into the serpent's mouth and tore right through its hide at its back. It let out a high pitched scream, flailing about aimlessly.

Skeletor compelled the creature back to its lair. This was far from over. He faced the heavens and summoned forth his power.

"Okay men, we can return now." Duncan informed Korsak and Nador with great relief. An explosion lit the sky, pieces of a wind raider flew every which way. "Who was that, damn it who was that?"

"It was Nador sir." Came Korsak's voice through. All about them fireballs rained from the sky. Skeletor obviously doesn't handle defeat too well.

"Korsak," Duncan said, "we need to climb above the fire, pull up." He saw Korsak obey quickly while he did the same. As Duncan steadied the Raider on its ascent he saw a fireball come directly at him…

"Nooo!" screamed Marlena as the crews of Cloudlauncher and Skyraker watched in horror as a fireball obliterated the Wind Raider carrying Duncan. She turned and buried her face in Agantraas' shoulder. She sobbed uncontrollably all the while a phrase she once heard repeated itself mercilessly inside her head – Pride before the fall, pride before the fall, pride…before the fall.

Part 32

At first there was only the darkness.

Over time the darkness weakened, allowing light to penetrate its dense armour. Light and dark would mingle evermore until the dark was a hazy veil through which the light could be seen. And that veil faltered, as all things inevitably fail and the light ruled where once darkness ruled.

Within the light's aura could be seen a montage of images and a cacophony of sounds heard. The visions were of people, people he knew, people he loved. The sounds he heard were the voices of those he saw.

He saw them smile at him. He saw them touch him. They danced for him. They loved him.

He heard laughter. He heard them tell stories for his amusement, for his education and for the sake of his companionship. He heard them say they loved him.

Memories marched on. Moments in time appeared haphazard of their origins. A childhood memory recalled would dissolve into a reminiscence of last year's ball. Good times, bad times it seemed, he relived them all. The light had revealed all.

But light's purpose in victory this day, it seemed, was but to illuminate the darkness that lay beyond.

In a hastily erected shelter a man lay spasming. Sweat glistened under the torchlight upon a face made wan by injury. His hands clutched to his side from where blood could be seen weeping from beneath his rigid grip.

Men sat around him in prayer while a woman, sitting a little closer than her male counterparts wiped him down with a sodden cloth. The ruddy complexion of the torchlight reflected on the tears that swam down her cheeks. Words she murmured to the ailing man, too low to be heard. She lay the cloth upon his forehead and cradled the man within her arms as she rested her head upon his own.

Elsewhere…

A once verdant plain now lies scarred, its wound inflicted by the atrocities men have committed upon its' surface. Everywhere the eye travels there are black stains marring the once scenic panorama, upon closer inspection the dark patches are in truth, red.

Two lines of men face against each other from opposite ends. It is these men who have scarred the earth before and will do so again. For it is conclusive, war will be fought here today. On one side the faces of the soldiers are all grim resolve. The others look in with indifference they have no cognition of the deeds they will perform today for they have no will to call their own.

A horn sounds and the two sides begin a fateful dash across the open ground. When they meet blood will be let; lives will be lost. These men will die because powers far greater than themselves pulled them from their homes and fed them to the hungry Gods of War. And yet they are also here because they know, they know that when a man can not control his destiny he must embrace it. To accept that destiny as his own because only then is destiny something to not be feared but be respected. For it is far better to respect something than to live in fear of it.

Elsewhere…

The surrounds are dark and damp. It is a castle. Torches burn brightly along the dank stones illuminating the woman kneeling submissively before the hooded figure. She too has wept like the other, but her tears have run their course, there was no more sorrow she could give. All that was left to her was to kneel here and await her fate. Blankly she stares off into the unlit recesses of the castle's walls.

The cloaked man stands above the lady like an executioner. He chuckles to himself as he surveys his prisoner. He leans forward and whispers in her ear, this elicits no response. He produces something from deep within the folds of his cloak – "A symbol" he calls it, "of what fate beckons those who defy me". The lady's eyes tighten, the only display of emotion she allows herself in his presence.

He holds the "symbol" before her, it is a human skull. Its hollow eyes bore through her and she begins to squirm. She breaks her self imposed silence with a question – "What of my son?"

The visions blur until again they are of the light. In his mind he is on a precipice with no safe way to fall. He can throw himself into the light where happiness lies, where all is good and pain is a forgotten memory. Or he can fall into the impenetrable abyss of darkness. Where there is suffering, injustice. Where fairness doesn't always rule and right is a matter of ambiguous conjecture.

But before he can choose he must answer a question unto himself. "What can I do?" he asks. "What can I do to end the pain? What can I do to remedy injustice? What can I do to right the things made wrong?" Then it occurs to him, the answer lay not here in this purgatory between light and darkness, but within the realms of light and darkness itself. He knows the question must be answered and he feels he knows the path through which the riddle will be unlocked.

With a heart full of doubt and a mind full of resolve he falls into the embrace of the darkness that lay below.

And then there was darkness. But the darkness soon turned to mist and in turn the mist dissipated into light. This time though, the light revealed not the memories, doubts or images of before. Through the light he saw the angel.

The angel had come to him many times as a voice in the darkness, a small beacon to guide him through the eternal night. He gazed upon the vision before him and knew it was the angel for she spoke with the same voice. And the angel said unto him…"I didn't think you were going to live."

He tried to speak but his throat was parched and refused sound to escape his tongue. The angel tilted a cup to his lips to permit sweet water to trickle into his arid mouth. He swallows several times to allow the liquid to wet his throat. He tried to speak again.

"Who are y…" he began.

She cut him off, "I know, you want to know who I am? Where you are? How did you get here?" she said, smiling a soft smile. He nodded. "Perhaps what you should be asking," she said tenderly, "is do you know who you are?"

"I…I…I…" he tried to answer, "I…forget." He was forced to admit.

"Then let me tell you." The angel stared straight into his eyes. "You are Adam, Prince of Eternia, son of Kings and Queens." She paused, allowing the news to absorb. "And you are He-Man, Champion of Eternia."

For the first time since he came awake he remembered who and what he was. He looked at his saviour, truly this time, but for the life of him he could not remember having seen her that she should know his most closely guarded secret. "And who might you be angel?"

She smiled sadly, "Angel? If I were such, nay it is not angel I am known as friend." She looked away as though her next admission came painfully, "It is witch they call me."

Part 33

Teela watched as Randor coughed spasmodically. His condition had improved since the group arrived in Asen. Count Willen looked ready to faint the day Teela and company arrived with the near-dead king of Eternia. Amazingly, they had been able to keep Randor's presence in the city relatively secret. Teela had gained the party entry into the Count of Codestan's palace via her status within the Eternian Royal Guard. With the exception of a few high-ranking officials, the dying man was a soldier in a group of elite warriors from the nation's capital.

Teela had stood vigil by Randor's sickbed since they had come to Asen City. During their mercy dash for civilisation there had been times she feared they would lose him, he had lost copious amounts of blood from his wounds and the pace they had been traveling at left little chance for rest. Teela wondered what miracle it was that let the king live through the ordeal.

The image of that night still sent shivers down her spine. Tri-Klops standing over Randor, victorious, poised to strike the killing blow. Then Isro screamed and threw a knife at Skeletor's tri-cloptic fiend. The blade took its quarry in one of his eyes, lodging itself into his brain. As the swordsman fell, so too did the sword he held above his fallen opponent, she shuddered as she pictured the huge, two-handed broadsword burying itself deep into Randor's side.

Then there was poor Hamon. The arachnoid had sucked the life from him, leaving the once hale archer a desiccated husk of his former self. They had buried him in that field, marked only by a small cairn, making a silent promise to return and bring his body back to Eternos for a proper burial. Teela thought it a small comfort that he left no family – the army was his life.

"Don't you ever sleep?" a voice asked weakly.

Teela looked at Randor "I sleep enough. It's just that you don't see it because you sleep through it."

Randor smiled. "What are the rest up to?"

"Fisto has gone out to scout the area. Clamp Champ is helping fortify the city's defences and Isro is entertaining the masses." Teela informed him.

Randor frowned, "Why are they fortifying the defenses?"

"Skeletor has invaded Kaetor. All of the North's regions have sent the bulk of their forces to keep him away from Ilandra City."

Randor's frown turned to concern. "And what news of the Queen?"

Teela paused word had been received last night. "Randor…Marlena led a pre- emptive strike on the Peak. Her and my father had launched the Wind Raiders against Skeletor. They were unsuccessful. Marlena was taken hostage."

Randor closed his eyes, "Marlena, no." Opening his eyes, now moist with unshed tears he asked Teela of Duncan. Duncan was safe she told him. Stratos had retrieved him after he ejected from his Wind Raider and taken him to Ilandra. She also told him of the ground action being taken by Lord Arataan.

"I have to abandon the search." Randor said. "I can't leave Marlena in Skeletor's clutches and Eternia needs a leader. Adam forgive me, this is what I must do."

"I think he would understand." Teela said gently. She turned to leave Randor to his pain.

"Teela, please don't go." Pleaded Randor. She stopped.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't want to be alone right now." Teela could sympathise with that - she didn't want to be alone either.

Randor had drifted off to sleep before long. He was still nowhere near strong enough to travel, it would be days, possibly weeks before he could. She watched as he slept fitfully; whether his restlessness came from his anguish or his wounds she did not know. She looked at the contours of his face. Adam had inherited his father's strong jaw and his bone structure, Teela swore that if Randor shaved he could pass as his son's much older brother.

Teela stood up, the chair she had occupied was fast becoming an annoyance. Randor wanted her to stay by his side but never thought to order a cot into his chambers for her to rest on. She tried rubbing some feeling into her buttocks. Typical male!

After growing bored with pacing around the small room she sat back down in the offensive chair. There was little else for her to do but watch the restless slumber of the Eternian King. Her mind wandered, turning to the unpleasant changes she had been experiencing these last few weeks. As much as she tried to fight this change it was pointless she had to accept the inevitable. But what could she do? She felt guilty, as if she was somehow being traitorous. But it mattered little, the truth was she no longer loved Adam as she thought she once had. Yet, it was not that which made her feel guilty.

She looked down to see Randor staring at her silently, as if he were reading her mind. She started, could he? She ran from the room, she ran down the corridor and down several flights of stairs. Why? Why did she have to fall in love with Randor?

Part 34

It had been days since he regained consciousness, only now did he feel strong enough to move about. The woman who had first introduced herself as "witch" had revealed her name to be Kisana. The plain looking lady had spent little time in the cottage since he came awake, he surmised she was not fond of company.

He figured she was a magi sister, there were certain little hints. Like the expansive array of flora she kept about the cottage for healing purposes. The sisters were healers non pareil and a healthy collection of herbs hung out to dry was a pretty good indication of their presence. Or so he had read.

Before Adam was born, Hordak and company had run the sisters underground, fearful their rudimentary practices in sorcery could be used against him. The ruthless persecution against the witches even scared the peasants, causing them to hound the sisters out of their communities, where once they were revered. Now if there were any sisters around, then like Kisana they too had to hide their identity. Adam could identify all too closely with that problem.

That was another thing that would take getting used to, having someone know about his 'other self'. It didn't help that she insisted on calling him Adam while he was still trapped within 'He-Man's' body. On the other hand, it was nice to be himself around someone.

The sound of wood being chopped caught his attention and he wandered outside to investigate. He found Kisana around the back splitting logs on a stump. He was impressed she didn't appear to miss a beat. He watched as her lean arms swung clasped together in circular motions. He wondered how long she had lived here to become this proficient. Appraising her under the naked light of the sun, Adam came to the conclusion that Kisana was "long", or gave the illusion of being "long".

She had a long face, which Adam had heard referred to as a "horse-face". Not the most flattering comparison but it seemed somehow appropriate. She had a long nose that ran down rather than out, on her face. She had sad blue eyes that looked as though they permanently mourned. She had a skinny body and long skinny legs. Nor was she uh, well endowed.

He started as she turned around. "You shouldn't be moving about yet." She reprimanded him.

Adam grinned, "Why not?' he asked.

"Because you're liable to fall over in your condition." She responded.

He doubted it, he knew He-Man had incredible recuperative powers. "I respect your medical opinion doctor, I'm not like other men."

"No you're not. You should've been dead weeks ago." She said in a matter of fact tone.

"In fact I'll show you how fit I am. I'll chop that wood for you." Adam said cockily. She looked at him doubtful but handed over the axe regardless. Adam hoped he was as healthy as he felt. The axe sat heavy in his hands; weeks of lying in a sickbed had sapped him of much of his strength. It had also robbed him of the beautifully sculpted muscle tone he enjoyed as his alter ego. He guessed that even magically enhanced physiques had their limits.

Adam selected the thickest looking log in the pile and sat it upon the stump. He hefted the axe overhead and swung down with all his might. He managed to split the wood, the stump and ripped the head from the axe. Maybe he hadn't lost as much as he thought.

"Knowing that you don't have any many there's no point in asking you to pay for that." Kisana said sardonically.

Adam smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I'll make it up."

"Not by chopping any more wood I hope." She replied.

Adam laughed and so did she. For the first time since he met her, Adam saw a little of the sadness lift from her eyes.

Part 35

Marlena followed as best she could while Skeletor paced an endless circle around her. She could imagine a grin splayed across his lipless mouth. "What of my son?!" she demanded.

"Young Prince Adam fled once the battle was joined. It would seem our future king is but craven." he said somewhat mirthfully.

"Don't be too confident Skeletor," Marlena warned, "there's a difference between being a coward and lying in wait for your enemy to make a mistake."

Skeletor snorted derisively, as much as he could snort with fleshless nostrils. "What could the yellow Prince do to me that would succeed where others have failed? You and your sailors sought to strike at me from the air and you were both shot down and sunk at the same time." He threw back his skull and laughed, "The King lays to the north, suffering mortal wounds inflicted by my warriors." Skeletor then produced a human skull from beneath his cloak "And my greatest victory, my most favoured trophy. The remains of my nemesis, slain like a pig and fed to the dogs." He paused a moment and whispered to the gruesome prize, "He-Man." he said, almost reverentially. "Let the craven Prince return and try to destroy me. He will learn to his sorrow that I am not so easily met."

"You know Skeletor, when I attacked you I did not really believe you could beat us. I rushed in and thought to sere you from the earth." Marlena said.

"And what happened woman? You lost. What is your point?"

"Just this," Marlena began, "Like I you think you've already won. You've let your guard down and that is what will destroy you. Watch your back at all times lest a knife is buried in it and the harsh reality of defeat asserts itself ever so rudely. Your pride will be your downfall."

"Pride is indeed an emotion to be wary of, yet there is a huge difference between you and I Marlena." Skeletor stopped his pacing directly in front of her and knelt down to look her square in the eyes. Defiant, Marlena looked directly into the empty sockets, where there should have been eyes. She always imagined that Skeletor was some unimaginative brigand wearing a mask to hide both his identity and incredible ugliness. Right now she was being disabused of that notion. The only thing visible behind Skeletor's visage was darkness, pitch black darkness, like that of the deepest ocean floors. It unnerved her, yet she kept her gaze level, determined not to squirm for this lunatic's pleasure.

"And what would that difference be?"

"I was born to power. Anointed by the Gods to rule. I was raised within the nobility and later learned the black arts. My entire existence has always been a promise of greatness. Plus I have that which you could never possess." he seemed to chuckle. "You see, almost everything I have I was born with. You, you are a commoner who married into power without understanding the enormity of the undertaking. Then when the opportunity arose you thought that you could lead by promising war." Skeletor's tone took on a disgusted pitch the more he spoke, "You woman, who thought she could be a man."

Skeletor summoned two guards to take her to her cell, apparently tiring of his gloating for the time being. As she was led away she could hear Skeletor laughing, at her she imagined. "That's fine Skeletor, laugh now and you will never see the knife in your back." she said under her breath. "I promise you, I will be there to bring the laughter to an end."

Part 36

Some of the more prominent religions on Eternia wrote of the angels. Creatures of grace and beauty that bore messages to mortals from the Gods. They would transcend the veil between the spirit and corporeal worlds on their wings of pure light. Laying on his back watching the Avionians glide through the air Duncan could almost believe in the existence of angels. But it was written that only the eyes of dead men saw the angels and thankfully, Duncan was not dead.

Stratos had plucked him from the sky after he had ejected from the doomed Wind Raider. Duncan replayed the image of the fireball looming large in front of him over and over and still could not be sure of the reflex that possessed him to press the eject button. He thanked the Gods for Marlena's vehemence that the escape feature be instaleed during the vehicle's construction else he would have been charcoal by now. But that was in the past now. Now he had a new problem to address.

Word had been brought by spies that Marlena and Agantraas had been caught by Skeletor and sat imprisoned within the walls of Aohre's Peak. He and Stratos had been pleading with the Avionian Council to assemble a strike force to retrieve the prisoners. Avion only had a small force of trained warriors and did not wish to risk them in an offensive strike, in the likelihood that Avion itself was attacked.

Duncan well understood those fears, but he was desperate to rescue the Queen. Without a monarch to unite them, it was inevitable that internal squabbling would begin between the various nobles around Eternia. The lure of leadership would prove too much, a distraction not needed in the face of a common enemy. Duncan had argued that the peace kept between Avion and Eternia would only remain in place so long as the Royal Family was there to keep the peace.

Slowly drifting away, entranced the by the lazy passage of the clouds, Duncan mused it would be nice to live here. An impossible desire, his presence here was a mild trauma to the older inhabitants who were not accustomed to the presence of the "Wingless". Some of the youth skipped up to him on occasion asking how it was he flew. When he responded that he didn't fly they wrinkled their noses in a cynical manner and told him "Don't be funny!"

"Duncan!" a voice called from over his shoulder. Stratos came swooping in from behind, circled once and then settled onto his feet.

"Have the Elders reached their decision?" Duncan asked of his fellow Royal counsellor.

"They have." Stratos gave a relieved smile, "They have agreed that the Aohre family monarchy must be kept intact to ensure the continued prosperity of the pact between our two peoples."

"That's no exaggeration, I'm not even sure where Arataan stands on the Avionian Accord and he would be your closest ally next to us." Duncan said.

"There's no need to tell me friend." Stratos agreed. Continuing on he said, "A squad of fifty Sword-Wings are being loaned to us to use in whatever way necessary to bring back the Queen and find the King."

Sword-Wings were the Avionian equivalent of knights. They were well versed in the art of swordplay and other forms of melee warfare. That Avion was loaning them to the Eternian cause showed how seriously they took this threat. "How soon will the Sword-Wings be ready?" he asked of Stratos.

"They can be ready within a few hours." replied the feathered emissary. "How soon do you wish to leave."

Impatient Duncan said, "Oh, I reckon in a few hours."

Part 37

Cold and hungry Lyn impatiently looked around for a suitable place to make camp. That she was closing to finding the mysterious Sister she was sure. Of course she was also sure that she should have already encountered this exiled witch, yet...yet that was not so.

She felt as though she were being deliberately led in circles, though that didn't make any sense. A Sister of the Magi Academia wouldn't would not be able to cast a confusion spell strong enough to confound Lyn. That would leave Skeletor. That was always possible, it was the sort of juvenile thing he would do for amusement. Though she doubted that.

Hordak, Skeletor's mentor in the mystic arts persecuted the Magi Sisters until they had been ground out of existence. Skeletor had seemed to inherit a certain wariness regarding the "witches". Skeletor had revealed to her that the Sisterhood had ben eradicated not for what they could do, but for the potential to learn further the uses they could derive from their practices. When first he told her this Lyn was disbelieving, yet as she studied more beneath her cadaverous master she saw the truth in this.

A simple heat spell the Sisters used in sterilising equipment and cauterising wounds could be intensified into a lethal fireball. A chill spell could be used to freeze great bodies of water where its lesser cousin was employed to lower bodily temperatures. Or the confusion spell, where it was used to distract the ill from painful surgery it could also be used to bend people to your will. It astounded Lyn that these women had devoted their lives to healing when they possessed the potential to control the world. How different would society be if women controlled the world?

Eternian society had punished her for being ambitious, for being an ambitious woman. It was not right, in the eyes of the patriarchy, that a woman should seek to govern in her own right and not at the sufferance of some bemused male. The Queen was a fool for thinking she could lead an army. The truth was that men only followed her to curry favour with the King.

It was Lyn's desire that she would be the first woman to rule on her own volition, to overthrow the patriarchy and demote men to the role of subservience. But she would need weapons, weapons only Skeletor could impart to her. Once she had gleaned what knowledge she could from him, then more fool he for creating the instrument of his own downfall...

Lyn shook herself. This was typical of the confusion spell, to cause the mind to wander when she should be concentrating on the ground beneath her feet. Focusing her thoughts into an awareness spell, she let her consciousness spread through the trees, looking for the source of the spell. Wherever it was emanating from would give away the position of her quarry. But something was not right. The spell stretched beyond the reach of the Frimswood, beyond the East Evergreen and beyond the Il Grando Pass. It concluded at a point that Lyn knew existed on no map that she had ever read. The Il Grando Pass stood several weeks west of where Lyn stood. There was no Sister that could cast a spell over that distance, there was no one alive who could a spell that strong, not even Skeletor. It couldn't be, could it?

Skeletor often spoke a place of incredible magic, the greatest gathering of knowledge and power in the known universe. It was his sole purpose for being on Eternia - the conquest of Castle Grayskull. And now Evil-Lyn had divined its location.

Part 38

The scene was grim. Rows upon rows of soldiers lined the low hills on the horizon. Not a single head turned in those rows, not a person coughed. They all stood staring straight ahead, not even bothering to note their foes. But to acknowledge the opposition would require the slightest act of intelligence and there was none evident in these warriors. Skeletor did not employ a normal army. There were very few that counted amongst the living beneath Skeletor's command. Standing before the Eternian Army was an army of the undead; soldiers who did not need to be fed, did not need to rest and could be recycled.

Teela lined the battlements of Ilandra City, the capital of Kaetor. The surviving party had departed Asen upon learning that an Eternosii led force was coming out of the Il Grando Pass and into the Kaetorean Grasslands. Morale had been boosted upon learning that King had retaken command of the armies and that new weapons had been brought to the fray.

Randor's reaction to learning that the Attak Traks and Battle Rams had been unveiled was mixed. The poor odds they faced required that some drastic measure be taken, but he was apprehensive about these top-secret machines being under the control of non-Eternosii.

Teela for one was glad that something was distracting Randor from her. She had tried since Asen to distance herself as much as possible from the King. Yet Randor had sensed her ploy and had dogged her during their trip. It was getting harder and harder to avoid him and finall, upon the brink of chaos, she had found the quiet she had sought. Yet again, she missed him. Teela gripped her short sword in frustration. Today she would do battle and perhaps, just maybe, she would find the ultimate peace.

From across the field the sound of thousands of feet pounding upon the hills of the Kaetorean Grasslands started. Swords raised Skeletor's army began its charge across the rolling meadows. Teela steeled herself for what she knew would come. She had seen battle in small encounters, first upon the decks of the Wave King, then upon the shores of Codestan. But they were stoushes compared to the carnage she foresaw in this impending clash. Today thousands of lives would be lost, that much she was sure of. It should've saddened her, but a soldier cannot afford emotion. Emotion clouded judgment and clear judgment was paramount when there was so much at stake. Every sword stroke had to travel true, to find a target that would strike a loss to the enemy.

The walls of Ilandra shook as the first wave of attackers hit the City's outer defences. Grappling hooks flung themselves over the rim of the wall, finding purchase in the craggy granite. With her own sword held high, Teela entered the battle.

1 Part 39

The first wave of pasty, blue-tinged faces of the cadaverous hordes of Skeletor could be seen bobbing over the wall. Teela met them with high- arcing swings of her sword, loosing a few heads from their necks. Though it did not destroy the already dead soldiers it seemed to confuse them, allowing the Eternians to concentrate on the next corpse.

High overhead arrows laced with fire fell upon the masses of undead still on the ground. Human soldiers rushed to the fore with cauldrons of pitch and poured them down the wall while another soldier would light the dark, viscous fluid as it oozed down the fortifications. Teela looked on with a hint of trepidation; awash in fire their opponents showed no signs of pain. They just fell to the ground while the unaffected continued their way forward. How in Eternia did their forefathers defeat them twenty-two years ago during the Horde War?

More faces appeared over the crenellations and more fell to the swords of the Eternian. More again came over and more again fell, and still they kept coming. Tired though she was, Teela became angrier the more she fought. Every sorrow she had felt in her life, from her mysterious origins, to her once impossible infatuation with Adam and her now impossible desire for his father. Teela fought. Every insult she had weathered as a woman in the army were suddenly remembered and fed her ire. She continued to fight. She thought of the mother she never knew and how it had always made her feel incomplete and ashamed around other children who had both their parents and could not comprehend in their adolescent naivete how such a thing could be. Her blade swung with more fury at each swipe. She would fight and she would continue to fight until she could no longer fight.

Fire rained upon the earth. It bloomed from the ground. It painted the sky in its tones of red and orange. Fire was everywhere as though Aohre, the God of Light had returned to the world. The world burned and none did Teela care. The world could burn; she would stoke the flames. Let it burn, let the sins of humanity be scourged forever. Let judgment come and condemn the wicked and righteous alike. Teela cared not, a world so cruel in which war was a way of life. So vicious as to deprive its people of loved ones. So malicious as to twist the heart-strings of individuals, of her.

The rage took her over and soon Teela lost all sense of where she was. Her next recollection of reality was that of hands lifting her to her feet and dragging her somewhere. She tried to fight but another reality soon set in – she had no strength with which to fight. She was helpless, as she was always helpless, though too afraid to ever admit it openly. She was a soldier, lady soldier and an admission of helplessness was seen as an admission of weakness. No soldier ever showed weakness, less they risk losing the respect of their peers. She felt helpless, carried away against her own will, at the mercy of some stranger, upon whose benevolence she now relied. Teela did something very unsoldier-ly; she started to weep.

2 Part 40

Adam tossed and turned as he slept. In his dreams he sees a battle waged in a far off land. He recognises the locale, Ilandra City. Everywhere there seems to be fire. Coming down in small fireballs from over the city's battlements. Sheets of flames crawling down the walls and even more scorching the earth.

Within the city, thousands of Eternian soldiers ran about. Some shouting orders many voicing battle cries. There were the screams of the wounded and the weeping of the bereaved. Adam felt a sense of sadness he had never before experienced. It was not the sadness that he felt over the sister he had never known. It was not the sadness he had experienced in the few times his parents expressed disappointment at him. Nor was it like the rejection he felt whenever Teela showed no feelings towards him. No, this was a universal melancholy. A pity felt for an entire entity rather than for a single individual.

Adam could also see, stretching for miles across the Kaetorean Grasslands, were ranks upon ranks of Skeletor's forces. The Eternians had only so many supplies with which to combat the hordes. Skeletor's armies, it seemed, were unfathomable. It was inevitable they would soon be defeated…

Elsewhere.

In a dank cell he could not recognise, Adam saw his mother. She sat slumped on a straw pallet. She looked wan and hopeless as she stared into oblivion. The scraping of feet echo in the hallway beyond and a hulking presence soon appears beneath the dim flickering of the torches.

"Feeding time." A guttural voice sings out. "Supper for the Queenie!" Beastman says pushing a fine silver platter through a break in the bars. He removes the cover to reveal roasted fowl, potatoes and beans smothered in gravy. The meal is fit for a noble prisoner but its recipient shows no interest in its contents. Beastman dances about for a few moments watching the captive, he has a made a game of whether or not the prisoner will break and consume the meal before her. He becomes disgusted and waddles off muttering unintelligently.

After her gaoler has departed, Queen Marlena looks at the platter longingly. It has been so long since she has eaten, but accept no charity she will from her captors. Even if it means her demise. She stands and walks to the cell's doors. It is apparent that beneath her stained, dirty dress she is wasting away. A near skeletal mockery of her once robust self…

Elsewhere.

Lightning flies recklessly about. Rain cascades in thick sheets, turning the ground into a quagmire as fireballs careen through the air, ignorant of the soggy state of the sky it tears so carelessly through.

Bogged down, the advancing army can do naught as wave after wave of the deadly projectiles rips their lines apart. Yet even that does little to slow the impending march. The force is pushing its way through a mountain pass only he thought knew existed. Running his eye to the fore of the massive host he espies what he expected, the Lost Vale. At its head Skeletor stand with his arms raised facing towards Castle Grayskull.

The Sorceress stands atop the battlements of the mystical fort, her arms too, outstretched. Fireballs, lightning, wind and rain alike seem unable to penetrate an invisible field surrounding her. Her wise face is contorted deep into concentration and strain is beginning to show. Were she not locked in magical combat she might have detected the arachnoid scaling the Castle's walls before it sank its fangs into her neck.

A weak cheer came from the attacking army and weapons were rattled with victorious exuberance. Upon one soldier's spear sat an impaled head, this was not 'elsewhere', this was 'another time' for Adam was staring straight at his own face.

3 Part 41

He awoke bolt upright taking a few moments to come to terms with what he had seen. Sweat flowed from his brow and his breathing came in ragged gasps. He wished he could dismiss the dream as just that, a dream, but knew better. They were a window to the present and a vision of the future. He had been having dreams like this his entire life, whenever there was great danger somewhere.

He walked unsteadily outside hoping the cool night air would help him regain his composure. There was pain in the world, pain that just a year ago he had promised to heal. It had seemed like a simple charge; take the magic sword, become the magic warrior and beat on some magic bad guys. Save the world and be home in time for dinner. To deliver peace and justice and all that rubbish.

The Sorceress had told him life as a champion would be hard, but she never said how. She never told him he would have to spend his life denying to others who he was. Having to make excuses for his-self so that his alter ego could attend to serious matters, leading people to think that their crown prince was a disinterested lay-about. Nor did he think he would make the choice that now stood before him.

Adam looked through the cottage doorway at the cot against the opposite wall. The nude figure sprawled upon it tossed for a moment, apparently realising something was missing. It paused its restless movements and spoke, "Adam, are you coming back to bed?"

Never, in the time that he had been He-Man, did Adam think he would have to choose between loved ones.

"In a moment Kisana, my love." He replied sadly.

Part 42

Side by side they walked over a barely discernible path. Sunlight filtered in through the canopy of leaves overhead. The Frimswood in recent times had garnered an insidious reputation. Adam had learned that Kisana had started that reputation to keep people away from her cottage. She had been very fond of her isolation, until now for obvious reasons.

She had opted to accompany him on his journey to unsettle Skeletor, against his advice. It was bittersweet, on one hand he wanted her everywhere he went, even if it were straight into certain danger. Then of course it was certain danger he was leading her into and he didn't think he could handle any harm befalling her. But in the end it was not his decision to make, she was quite firm about that.

He snuck a sideways glance at his travel partner. When he first awoke from his coma he thought her quite unattractive – long faced, long necked and gangly. She also had many lines and bags about her face that suggested an age beyond her actual years. Looking at her now her face no longer seemed equine. Instead, in relation to her long neck it bespoke of an untapped elegance. Now that she smiled more often her face did not seem as heavy with worry and stress it once had. And no matter what, she was still the most beautiful creature in the world to him.

"Adam?" she suddenly spoke up.

"Hmm?" Adam replied.

"You never asked me how I came to rescue you." She said.

"You told me how you confused Beastman's senses into believing you were a Gerobear. What else would I ask?" he answered.

Still keeping her eyes on the path ahead she asked, "Do you think, that perhaps it was fate?"

"Yes and no." Adam replied. "It was no accident that you witnessed the battle that day. I believe that you were compelled to by an outside force."

Kisana screwed her face up. "What could possibly do that?" she asked, incredulous.

"Do you recall how I said that I was protected?" he inquired.

"By channeling the power of a fortress that exists unbeknownst to mankind?" she said with a hint of sarcasm. When Adam had told her that he received his gifts from the lost Castle of Grayskull she was less than receptive. She wondered how in this age of exploration that something so significant as a castle could go unnoticed.

"What I didn't tell you is that it is inhabited by a sorceress."

"You mean a Sister?" Kisana asked curiously.

"I don't think so." Adam replied. "She can change her shape, which you told me a Sister cannot do."

Kisana still looked sceptical. "If this sorceress is so powerful then why she doesn't she fight Skeletor instead of sending you to dance with death?"

"As far as I know she can not leave the confines of the Keep's walls and then only in the form of a bird. She is the Castle's guardian as I am its knight." Adam said.

"So let me get his straight…" Kisana began. "You think that this sorceress, who hides in her secret castle, somehow compelled me to witness you near execution so that I might step in and rescue you?" Adam nodded. "Can I ask you one more question?" He nodded again. "Adam, how many blows to the head did you take?"

Adam grinned mischievously. "Not as many as your backside will if you keep giving me lip."

Kisana arched an eyebrow. "Think you could catch me He-Man?" she called him by his alter ego's name to mock him.

"There is no place in this world in which you could hide from me. I would find you no matter where you were."

Suddenly she threw her arms around him and gave him a strong kiss. When she finished she was smiling broadly. "Good answer." She said.

As he set her down her head whipped around furiously, staring at some unseen thing beyond the forest trees. "What is it?" Adam asked in an instinctive whisper.

Kisana narrowed her eyes "Something stalks us!"

Part 43

From atop the apex of the true Aohre's Peak Duncan stared down below at the Mountain's namesake keep. He and the Avionians had made camp a day ago and now scouted the King's former residence. They watched for routine in the patrols being made around both the castle grounds and upon its battlements. As impatient as he felt, Duncan was not about to dismiss years of cautionary experience no matter what was at stake.

Disturbingly there were no signs of any patrols or sentries. This made the hairs on Duncan mustache stand end on end. A fort that needed no guards had something more powerful protecting it. He thought of the impossibly giant serpent that had attacked them just east of here. He hoped that he had seen the last of that snake and that it was the only trap that had been set. Duncan doubted it.

"Still no signs of life?" Stratos asked from behind.

"None," Duncan replied, "but then Skeletor's armies are famous for their lack of animation." Stratos snorted. "Do you have any ideas what may await us down there?" Duncan asked his feathered companion.

"I'd say he has some kind of spell surrounding the whole vale that lets him know when he has an intruder. There's a similar one surrounding Avion."

"So much for sneaking in." Duncan said dejectedly.

"What do you think we should do?" Stratos asked of the royal man at arms.

"With any luck most of Skeletor's armies are tied up with the offensive against Ilandra City, leaving, if you excuse the pun, a skeleton crew to defend the keep. If there are any traps sitting here will not reveal them to us. We just have to keep our eyes and ears open. I think the only option available to us is to go right in and face Skeletor and whatever fell creatures he has waiting for us."

So much for caution.

Part 44

The echoing boom of thunder rang throughout her consciousness. It tolled ceaselessly never giving her time to think coherently. Every time she tried to focus another boisterous eruption would split whatever calm she could muster.

It had been six days since Teela collapsed from exhaustion and even now she had no desire to rise from her sickbed. Never in her life had she known fatigue of the like; the lifetime of swordplay, years of marches, drills and training had never left her feeling so drained as her berserk rage days earlier. Isro had dragged her from the battlements upon seeing her collapse. When she had awoke she requested to see him, he seemed quite abashed at her thanks. Various Eternosii soldiers as well as traveling companions had also stopped by to inquire upon her health. They all said the same thing; "You were incredible." "A true Warrior." "A hero."

A hero? She did not feel like a hero. She felt ashamed that she had lost control like that, abandoning every tenet of soldier conduct, the inherited rules that governed a warrior's behaviour to prevent them from rushing headlong to their deaths. Recent months had brought out a side to her she had never known. Teela couldn't recall ever being so unstable, so emotional. It felt ungainly, a weight that she could not bear, a weight she could not easily shed. Now that she had let go could she ever return to normal? How did normal people get through life, letting their emotions control them? How did they not fall clumsily at the first obstacle life threw them, being so indecisive, unable to discern their current state of mind, being distracted in their thoughts because their hearts babbled meaninglessly at them? Or was it just her, was it just her going crazy while everyone else was privy to the secrets of life?

Randor had come by yesterday, all worry. Worried about her condition, worried about the siege, worried about his wife, worried about his son, worried about the families of those whose lives were lost fighting in his name. It made Teela feel selfish, that all she was concerned about was her self, when others fought for causes outside their own egos. It shamed her even further to realise that throughout his recital of his woes that she loved a man who did not love her back. Worried about her he was, but that was just a small part of his troubles. She could not blame him for that, though she could not help but feel angry about it too.

She also felt guilty about something else. With her recent personal issues she had lost sight of why she was here – to find the lost prince. Adam! The search, it seemed, had been cancelled. Did that mean it was taken for granted that Adam had perished without the Royal Guard or He-Man to defend him? Quietly she apologised to the prince, to her lifetime friend and the man whom she had once thought she were in love with. Adam she thought, where are you?

A knock, barely audible over the thunder of battle raging outside interrupted her thoughts, just as she felt she was getting them together. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's me, Randor. May I come in?" the King asked. Teela assented. Randor entered, his face worn with worry as always.

"How can I be of assistance Your Majesty?" asked Teela. Randor frowned, unsure of whether or not she was making fun of him. She very rarely used his title in private.

"I was just wondering if you felt strong enough to go outside yet?" Randor asked of her.

"Nay my Lord. I fear I am still too weak to stand too long upon my own feet." Teela replied. Randor frowned deeper.

"I have made a decision. We need to take the fight to Skeletor's army, I've decided to unleash the machines." Randor said referring to the Battle Rams and Attak Traks Duke Arataan had brought with him. "I thought that perhaps you would like to see them in action?" The thought would have once appealed to Teela, but as she was slowly coming to expect things change and now the thought of witnessing more war sickened her. She declined the King's offer. "Very well," Randor said, turning to leave the room, "I'll come back another time to let you know how it went."

"Randor!" Teela called to the King. He stopped and regarded her. "If Skeletor heads not this army then who commands the field?" Randor struggled for a moment as disbelief became apparent in his expression.

"Someone we have already met." Randor said. "Tri-Klops heads the army beyond the walls."

Part 45

Duncan and his companions made their descent from Aohre's Peak on foot, feeling that flying in closer would present an easy target for Skeletor and his horde. Looking at the structure below Duncan racked his memory trying to recall the layout of the King's former ancestral home. It was here that Duncan first met Randor as a young boy.

Randor was all of twelve when Duncan, just weeks into his military service, was stationed at Aohre's Peak. Even then Randor cut a fine figure, broad- shouldered, long flowing oak colored hair and impeccable sword skills. Even at twelve Randor was an accomplished statesman, his father, Miro, would often let young Randor sit in judgment in his stead at the people's court.

Miro himself was still a prince at the time, ascending to the throne after his father, Randor's Grandfather passed on. Duncan could barely remember King Daronor, his only encounter with him was at the viewing of the King's body in Eternos. After King Daronor died Miro ascended to the throne and he, Ladira his bride – Randor's mother and Randor himself moved to the capital city of Eternia. But one was left behind.

The future King's younger brother was to stay at Aohre's Peak, to assume the all important mantle of Duke of Rothagn, Rothagn being the true name of the Eternian north. The Duke of Rothagn was the King's voice in the north, his right hand. It was in itself an honor of immeasurable esteem. The Duke of Rothagn, Prince of Eternia and second in line to the throne was Keldor, the Betrayer.

Duncan remembered Keldor as a likable youth. He grew to be taller than Randor, slightly thinner and nearly as good with the blade. Keldor was himself a natural leader, his relaxed demeanor, winning smile and regal good looks garnered him a large personal following. Duncan recalled thinking at one time that Miro had reared two great leaders.

Yet the isolation from his family would embitter Keldor somewhat. Whenever Keldor came to Eternos, or likewise Randor to his former home there was always a sadness about him. Happy enough to see his family, it was always over too quickly and Keldor and his kin were separated once more. Then came the Horde War.

It had been almost thirty years since the demon Hordak and his army known only as the Horde invaded Eternia. Beginning at the northernmost point of the Eternian continent and slowly spreading downwards the Horde destroyed all in its path. Using the same arcane means as Skeletor now used to supplement his forces the Eternians had no idea how to combat the fell armies of Hordak. Within two years the Horde had come to the walls of Eternos and laid siege. It was about this time that Prince Keldor was involved in two history altering events.

The first happened as Keldor sailed down the east coast of Eternia with his fleet. A meteor had fallen from the sky within the area the fleet passed through. Keldor sent out a crew to retrieve the fallen star, finding instead an alien craft from which Marlena, the future queen of Eternia would emerge. The second event occurred after Keldor's fleet made port at Helvae and joined his forces with Duke Arataan. Inexplicably Hordak had broken his siege of Eternos and started marching north from whence he came. The Horde Army met the Prince's army upon the Plains of Valano and it was there that Prince Keldor ended the Horde War.

The honours that were heaped upon the heroic Prince were great and the adoration sincere. Yet he found no joy in the arms of the people. Prince Keldor had fallen in love with the alien woman he had rescued from the Great Eternian Ocean. But she had fallen in love with the still available Randor and likewise he returned her affections and soon they wed. Keldor attended the wedding but showed no signs of happiness for his brother, instead treating the occasion with a statesman-like formality.

Nobody knew exactly what happened to the prince but it was apparent that he stewed in his own envy within the halls of Aohre's Peak. Months later he emerged with a small, loyal army at his back declaring that he, not Randor should be king, as it was he, not Randor, that saved Eternia from enslavement. The rebellion was quelled quickly and Keldor soon imprisoned within the walls of Eternosii Palace. That would have been the end of the matter had not the Prince disappeared mysteriously, never again to be seen.

Since the rebellion the King had placed a steward in charge of Aohre's Peak, to manage its affairs until there once again was a scion of the Royal family to assume its seat. And so it was until Skeletor took the Peak last year and made it his base of operations.

Eyes fixed on the valley fortress Duncan wondered why Skeletor had chosen Aohre's Peak. What made the Peak so important that Skeletor had to control it?

Part 46

Beastman lumbered down the dungeon's halls. It was time for the Queen's nightly meal and as usual it was Beastman's task to bring it to her. She was the only prisoner in these cells, it was not in Skeletor's nature to keep enemies alive for long and Beastman wondered why he allowed this one to continue her existence. He didn't give it too much thought, Skeletor sometimes did obscure things that made no sense to Beastman but quite often turned out well for his master. What he thought long about was when he would get to feast upon the Queen's flesh, when Skeletor would eventually tire of his prize and throw her to Beastman and his pack.

There was a sense of quiet in the halls that was not right. Normally the Queen could be heard sobbing in the isolated darkness, but tonight…nothing. Sniffing the air he could still detect her scent. She no longer smelled of that hideous perfume as she did when she first came to the dungeons, but of her natural, female musk. The Queen's cell came into view and Beastman peered into the darkness. He saw her slumped upon the cold dirt of the prison's floor.

Concerned, for Skeletor would be most displeased if the prisoner died within his care, Beastman placed the food tray on the dungeon floor and entered the Queen's chamber. She breathed, he could hear, yet it was weak and laboured. He kicked her hoping to elicit some sort of protest, yet she lay still. Starting to panic a little he grabbed her roughly and started to shake her, still no response. Beastman looked about, fearful that Skeletor would enter at any moment and find the sick Queen laying at his feet and placing blame on his shoulders. He only just heard a scraping on the dungeon floor when something came up hard between his legs. His world erupted in agony, sprouting from his nether-regions. He heard the cell door click shut and the Queen say "You men. No matter what size and shape, you're all the same." Then she was gone.

As the pain faded to a dull ache Beastman could focus on his current predicament. As he thought about it he began to wail – Skeletor was not going to be pleased.

Part 47

Marlena walked for what seemed an eternity as she made her way free of the dungeons. She though of Beastman trapped in what was her cell, she felt sorry for him in a way. He was a beast, only slightly more intelligent than his feral brethren, but he was also a slave, nay a pet, to Skeletor's whims. It seemed to her that Beastman followed his bony master, well because he thought Skeletor was his master. Freak-face gave the shaggy brute a sense of belonging, where in other sections of the world he would be an outcast. Marlena wondered if Skeletor's other minions felt their loyalties to him in that same twisted

manner.

As she entered an anteroom at the top of a flight of stairs Marlena felt herself beginning to breathe easier, not from a sense of relief, rather because the air here was lighter than in the dungeons. She had only a vague remembrance of the Peak, having visited only once before, but castles the world over were always the same, you only had to go higher to find the most important residents. If she could get close enough she would kill Skeletor. She could immediately see a flaw in that stratagem - she had no weapon. She shrugged her shoulders, surely would come across one sooner or later, after-all an army had been garrisoned here.

She continued to stalk her way upstairs, listening for signs of guards or Skeletor himself. She had gone up to levels and started down another corridor when she heard footsteps coming from behind. She ducked into an open doorway and pressed herself flat against the wall. As the footsteps neared she caught a glimpse of a hulking two-headed creature talking to itself. "Skeletor is not gonna be pleased!" said one the heads. "Why do we have to deliver the message? I really do not wanna be the one to tell Skeletor his army at Ilandra City has been smashed to pieces."

"You think I do?" said the other. "But we're the only ones left. Witch- woman is in the Frimswood hunting some other witch. Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw ran off after their defeat in the Kaetorean Grasslands and Beastman is nowhere to be found. We have to tell Skeletor." Their footsteps faded into the echoes as they continued along.

Letting go of a breath she did not realise she held, Marlena looked around the room she had stumbled into. Two displays caught her eye; one was of what appeared to be a keep whose face was carved into the grotesque features of a skull. Perhaps Skeletor wanted to erect a monument to his self; it struck Marlena as the sort of ego driven exercise Skeletor would do. She looked at the other display; it saddened her heart to see it.

Propped against a corner was the sparse armor He-Man wore before his demise, the rest of his clothes laid in a ragged head besides. Yet there was another item that held the most interest for Marlena, a pedestal of white marble, embedded in which sat the famed blade He-man wielded in battle. It was a unique design, both blade and hilt were molded as one, two wings curved out from the base of the blade. No other sword like it existed. Taking it by its leather bound grip she drew the sword from its marble tomb. How ironic would it be, if she were to strike down Skeletor with this weapon?

Part 48

The forest began to thin and foothills became apparent. To the west and north the Jendor Pass, the southernmost entrance to Aohre's Peak lay. "I think we should stay here tonight." Adam said to his traveling companion.

"Oh thank goodness!" Kisana exclaimed, "I'm just about ready to collapse."

"I guess that gives me at least another reason for stopping." Adam grinned.

Kisana pouted "I thought I would have been your first concern?"

"Well, sure…I mean of course you were…are."

"So your Highness, may I ask what your other motive is?" asked Kisana.

"Skeletor keeps constant patrols over 'his lands', once we leave the cover of the forest we are going to be in stealth mode. I'd rather not alert bonehead to our presence. Secondly, I'm hoping our pursuer makes their move tonight. I don't know why, but I think they'll want to get us before we encounter Skeletor." Adam replied.

Kisana nodded, somewhat unsure of her lover's reasoning. He looked at her as she went about preparing their campsite feeling, not for the first time, a pang of guilt. Adam was sure that despite her own past she wasn't prepared for a meeting with Skeletor. His own recent failings had shown him that even he still wasn't quite ready for Skeletor. Then there was this mysterious stalker.

For weeks they had been tracked by something or someone. It bothered Adam that this thing/person had not made its agenda clear, that it was just waiting patiently. Adam could be a patient man, though his patience had been thin of late. Prince Adam had been gone for months and still he had no idea of how the world had been affected. Had Skeletor dominated in his absence? The Sorceress had told him that the reason for He-Man's existence was to repel the evil forces that had invaded Eternia, to keep them from dominion. Without the tool of their survival how long could Eternia's forces hold out?

Adam had not realized that he had sat down until Kisana's voice broke his introspection. "What troubles you Love?"

Solemnly, Adam replied "Everything." Kisana took him in her arms, laying his head against her chest.

"You may bear the fate of the world in your hands, but its weight was never meant for your shoulders alone." She said gently.

Adam weakly shook his head, "Why would anyone want to share my burden?"

"Because they love you."

Part 49

The slightest crunching of leaves brought Adam awake. It took him a moment to adjust; last he recalled it had still been daylight. He realized he must have fallen asleep in Kisana's arms. There! The faint crackling occurred again, just off to his right. He tried squinting sideways to catch a glimpse of the source of the disturbance. All he could see was a blurry, indistinct shadow creeping into the clearing where he and Kisana slept. He tensed, any moment now he would solve at least one of his problems. The fuzzy visage crept closer to the campers…any moment now. Another step and it stooped as it did so Adam flung dirt into its face.

The intruder's yelp had the high pitched quaver of a woman. With lightning quick reflexes he caught her by the wrists and pulled her into the firelight. He recognized her, "Evil-Lyn!" he hissed.

The short ruckus had awoken Kisana who stumbled groggily to her feet. "What's happening?" she managed to mumble.

"I've caught our stalker, it so happens she is Skeletor's wi…wicked woman." Adam said, unsure of how Kisana would react to him using the word "witch".

"You're dead!" Lyn exclaimed at Adam.

"You don't have to sound so disappointed." Adam retorted in his He-Man voice.

"You're dead, I saw the soldiers slay you. There's no way you could've survived." Evil Lyn continued in horrified wonder.

He-Man smiled, "Well now, you should know by now that there's a difference between what we believe to see and what we do see." He-Man cocked his head to one side. "But my friend, what shall I do with you."

"I say we kill her!" hissed Kisana. "If she is in the employ of Skeletor she will only attack us if we turn our backs on her again. She is a witch." Kisana added.

He-Man looked at his companion in surprise, both for her violent resolution and her use of the derogatory remark. "Skeletor's lackey she may be, but she is still a woman also. I cannot harm her." He admitted. "But nor can we take her with us."

"If I bind her here is there a way to ensure she stays here?" He-Man asked Kisana.

She nodded "There is." With that she moved up to the struggling witch and placed her hands on her temporals. Skeletor's woman began to thrash wildly and started to scream frantically. He-Man shifted uncomfortably, it unnerved him to see anyone in such agony.

"What are you doing to her?" he asked cautiously.

"She will be unable to focus her will as her thoughts are in a place where her worst fears have sprung to life. She is now defenseless." Kisana replied.

He-Man shuddered; it was not that long ago he was in a similar place.

Part 50

The Eternians were failing, that much was obvious. The walls of Ilandra were failing and soon Tri-Klops and his army would crush the entire Eternian hierarchy in one fell swoop. Skeletor would reward him well for his bringing him the head of the King. Victory, reward and revenge, Tri- Klops grinned, he would be most favored above all of Skeletor's minions.

Tri-Klops hoped against hope that the fop Isro Wael was still with the King. That lace clad, perfumed, pristine little girly-boy would pay for killing him. He still fancied he could feel the dagger piercing his skull, tearing into his brain. The thought still gave him nightmares. Still, Tri- Klops was grateful to Skeletor for bringing him back from the beyond and letting him keep his memories in the process. The last thing he wanted was to be like the lifeless corpses he commanded.

He looked at the lines of warriors in his employ: vacant and obedient, the perfect army. They needed no sleep, no feed and no pay. How Skeletor's predecessor, Hordak, had failed in his undertaking more than twenty years ago with a similar force was beyond him. But then Hordak had not a general the likes of Tri-Klops. Anticipation welled up inside him, the way it always did when victory was on the horizon. The time to commit to battle had arrived.

"For Skeletor!" he commanded, raising his blade in signal. Almost immediately the troops began their march towards the walls of Ilandra City. He could spy the Eternian defenders waiting along the battlements of the outer wall. He could see their faces, locked in an expression of grim inevitability. He could imagine their screams after he had taken their city and put them all to the slaughter. It fuelled his increasing anxiety. As the army neared the walls he could see clearly the King standing prominently amongst his warriors.

"Halt!" he commanded his troops. The great sea of soldiers stopped with precise obeisance. As much as he could not wait to annihilate the enemy, there were formalities to be observed first.

"Randor, King of Eternia, unless you are willing to put many lives to the sword on this day, I beseech you surrender!" Tri-Klops offered. "Should you accept this submission then your life and the lives of your people will be spared." Tri-Klops allowed himself a smile, he knew Randor the fool would never surrender but Tri-Klops ever so enjoyed playing these games.

"Alright, we give up!" Randor called in reply.

"What…?" Tri-Klops jaw almost fell open.

"We accept your offer of clemency, we offer ourselves in unconditional surrender." The King responded.

Tri-Klops scratched his head; it wasn't supposed to happen like this. "You, uh, do understand that, uhh, you will become slaves of Skeletor, huh? You won't have any freedoms, you will have to do as we say."

"We understand. Isn't it better to live in thrall then to not live at all?"

'Damn Randor' Tri-Klops thought. He suddenly felt grateful that he was a man of compromised principals and decided he was going to kill the King anyway. He had to take some satisfaction from this victory. "Very well then, on behalf of Skeletor, the new Lord and Master of Eternia, I accept you surrender!"

Randor nodded "As you will!" He turned and commanded the drawbridge lowered. Chains clanked as the massive stone slab grinded open and downwards. A thud indicated the gate had traveled its course. Tri-Klops had started to raise his arm when a deafening crack of thunder split the morning air. The sound came again and again as Tri-Klops fell screaming to the ground. Such raucous activity he had never known, it felt perilously close to having his skull split again.

There was a lull from the awful clamor and Tri-Klops cautiously regained his feet. A residual ringing left him feeling queasy, a sensation aided by the acrid smell of sulfur lingering heavily in the air. As he looked about, he realized with alarm that six columns had been decimated, almost a third of his troops. An odd growling caught his attention and he turned to look at two metallic behemoths rumbling towards him and his remaining forces. He had barely overcome his shock when he realized they were being driven. 'Impossible', he thought, 'there existed no vehicle of this ilk'. He saw what he presumed to be cannons mounted atop each bulky tank.

Smaller cannons mounted on the front of the mammoths spewed forth fiery projectiles at an impossible rate. More lines of Tri-Klops soldiers fell before the onslaught. Behind the first pair of mechanized wagons another set emerged. Stranger than the first machines these new additions shambled along awkwardly, their wheels encased within a tread. More fire erupted from the cannons and yet more troops fell.

Tri-Klops had walked into an ambush, one from which there could be no salvaging a victory. King Randor would have his victory on this day; there would be another fight in another time. With that Tri-Klops turned and fled.

Part 51

The cheers from the populace almost rivaled the din of the cannons. Nobles, soldiers and peasants alike danced and capered upon the paved streets. The King himself drank from tankards offered him by joyous residents. Beyond the walls the Attak Traks and Battle Rams pursued and mowed down the remnants of the invading army.

The surge of emotion lifted Teela's spirits in a way she had almost forgotten. It had been too long since any good had come to the people of Eternia, so long since anyone had felt any sort of joy. But as she looked at the Eternian leaders, the King in particular, it had occurred to her that their true purpose appeared forgotten. Prince Adam was still missing and until she saw a body, Teela refused to believe him dead. She had not forgotten, it was the only thing giving her a sense of purpose. She had failed as a soldier and her only redemption lay in unraveling the mystery of the missing Prince.

Morning became noon and noon blended into night. The victory was still being celebrated, the nobles had retreated to host their own parties and many of the soldiers were given leave to join in the festivities. Teela crept upon the walls of Ilandra until she found a suitably secluded spot. She uncoiled rappelling equipment and hoisted the loose end over the wall. She slid down to the ground and unhooked the grapple, packing it away again. She took a final look at Ilandra City before walking away, eastwardly towards Aohre's Peak. It was almost a sure bet, if Skeletor had slain He-Man then either he had done the same to Adam or he kept him prisoner. Either way, she would finish her mission.

Part 52

His army was shattered. Mown down to the man, a soldier that could not think for his-self could not think to run. Years of planning lain to waste, the building of his army had been an exhausting process. The art of Necromancy was not easily mastered nor was it easily wielded. Each time he performed the ritual he had to give a piece of his own humanity, to give life to that which has none to call its own. Now he had little more to give, the majority of his humanity had been given away for nothing. Now he had to preserve some of his essence for only the greatest emergencies.

Rage boiled within and Skeletor fought to maintain his sanity. He was not accustomed to defeat. Back in the day when he was a creature of flesh he was the greatest of war leaders, cunning and meticulous in his execution of battle strategy. Skeletor could always plan for the most unlikely contingency it had been his greatest asset. But how could he have predicted this? These war machines whose destructive power rivaled his mastery of the arcane. These creations tore into their enemies with animalistic rage, unaware of its own consequences. They were tools Skeletor fervently wished he had devised.

Skeletor calmed himself. He may have lost in the field but he still held the Peak, the most impenetrable fortress in Eternia. From here he could defend against any assault brought forth by the Eternians. He had already brought low the flying machines they had sent against him and he still held the Queen. Yes, this war was far from over. As he pondered his next move he heard a scraping on stone.

Instinctively he turned and unleashed an unseen blast towards the source of the sound. A woman yelped and a steel object clattered to the floor. Skeletor looked down upon the Queen of Eternia. "How did you escape your confinement?" he demanded.

Marlena flashed him a spiteful look, "One of your henchmen was kind enough to trade places with me."

Skeletor bent down and picked up the sword of He-Man. "Planning to kill me with this were you?" Skeletor stroked the blade elegantly. "Your majesty, this is not the best time to be aggravating me." He said as he raised the blade high above Marlena's head. "I could not claim your husband's head today. But I think yours will make a fine substitute." And he then swung downwards.

A tingling sensation averted his attention and the Queen seized the moment to evade the sword's deadly arc. Skeletor paid the miss little mind, something had entered the fortress. Skeletor stood looking around waiting for an attacker to reveal themselves. He was suddenly very unsure of himself. Forcefully he grabbed the Queen and held her close, bringing the blade to her throat. Whoever had desecrated his domain would not find him defenseless.

Part 53

Duncan, Stratos and the other Avionian warriors stood in the main hall of Aohre's Peak. Skeletor's guards had proved little trouble for them, he had over-estimated their abilities. But now lay the problem of which way to go.

"If we look for the Queen first then we may end up with Skeletor behind us, I want avoid that situation. Yet, if we attack Skeletor first then he may do something to Marlena." Duncan shook his head. "I should've thought this through better, this is what rushing in gets you."

"How about you rescue the Queen and I'll take care of Skeletor." An impossibly deep voice suggested.

The rescuers turned around "By the Ancients!" Duncan exclaimed, "I heard you were dead"

"Well, people do spread rumours." He-man quipped. Duncan, Stratos and the SwordWings stepped forward to express their relief at seeing their champion alive and well. There were also some curious glances towards Kisana before He-Man introduced her.

"She nursed myself and the Prince back to health. We both owe her our life." He-man told them.

"You know where the Prince is then?" asked Duncan eagerly.

"Aye, after he was healthy enough and I had heard that Skeletor had sent his forces against the King at Ilandra, I felt it safe enough to send him back to Eternos. He should be there waiting by the time everyone returns to the capital."

Relief washed over Duncan's face. "Thank the Gods!"

"You mentioned the Queen? She is here?" asked He-Man.

"She is being held hostage, along with Lord Agantraas and members of the navy." Duncan informed him. "We tried to assail Skeletor from the sea to prevent him from interfering in the search for Prince Adam. Skeletor was just too well prepared for us."

"Who let her do such a reckless thing?" He-Man asked angrily.

"This is Marlena we're talking about He-Man. There's no force in the world that can move her when her mind is made up."

"Oh!" He-Man said, softening his mood, "I had forgotten that." He continued "Either way, our standing around isn't helping anyone. We'd better move."

Duncan gave his well wishes to He-Man and started towards the dungeons full of hope. Somehow, with He-man around, everything would be alright.

Part 54

He-Man and Kisana made their way up the stairs leading to the throne room.

"Well that's a strange sight." Kisana commented.

"Hm, what is dear?"

"Seeing you act like a different person around others. Seeing you act like, I don't know, He-Man."

"Is it really that different?" He-Man asked.

"Well, yes it is. Just then you stood straighter, spoke more clearly and you flex your muscles a lot."

"I do not!" he objected.

"You do you big show off." Kisana teased

"Hah, well what else are they there for?" He-Man retorted.

"It never struck me before. You've told me about leading a double life, but I couldn't see what you meant until now. You're not allowed to be yourself when you're He-man. Here you are taking on the responsibility of protecting the world and no-one knows who you are. They give their love and gratitude to someone who doesn't even exist and you have to watch and nod and bear it. How do you do it?"

He-Man gave a sad smile. "To have to hide from the world what you are? To live in denial and not share your frustrations with anyone because the truth could hurt them? Kisana, I don't think you need me to answer that question for you. You and I, we were both alone in this world." He-Man's smile turned to one of affection. "Until you, no one else had seen through my mask, just as I had seen through yours. That is why I love you, because you and only you looks at me and sees me for everything I am."

Kisana shook her head. "Then tell me. After this is over, who will I be? The lover of the champion of Eternia, or the consort of the Eternian Prince?"

"Hopefully a little bit of both. If all goes according to plan today, then I will no longer need to keep up this facade."

Kisana grabbed He-Man's wrist, imploring him to stop. When he turned around to see the problem she kissed him. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you."

Eternia's champion grinned, "I would hope so."

Part 55

They stopped at the throne room. He-Man put his ear to the door and listened for any sounds. He couldn't hear any. He pushed it open just a little and it gave out a loud creak.

"Before you do anything rash, you should know that I hold the Queen hostage in my grasp!" Skeletor shouted.

He-Man paused, this would make things difficult. Skeletor continued, "Show your self intruder. He who would dare enter my domain, reveal your self!"

"Only as long you promise not to proclaim me dead!" He-Man thought he would save himself some time and get the obligatory 'That's impossible(s)' out of the way. "Wait here." He whispered to Kisana and went forward through the doorway.

"That's impossible…!!!" Skeletor exclaimed. He-Man sighed.

"I was hoping for a warmer reception, after all it has been a while." He- Man quipped. He spoke next to the Queen, "Are you hurt Your Majesty?"

"I'm alright…for the moment." The Queen replied.

"Skeletor, for the benefit of your health I suggest you let Marlena go." He- Man said threateningly.

"You appraisal of the situation is somewhat askew muscle-man. It would appear that it is I who would hold all the bargaining power." retorted Skeletor. "Now move aside."

"I warn you Skeletor, harm the Queen and you seal your own death pact!"

"I grow tired of your hollow threats He-Man. I am not in the most generous of moods so do not test my patience."

Cautiously, He-Man moved away from the door, circling around the retreating Skeletor and his royal hostage. "Now He-Man, until the next time I bid you fare….aaargh!"

Kisana had sprung from behind the doorway and knifed Skeletor in the back. Marlena escaped and wrested He-Man's sword from his clutches. "He-Man here!" she said tossing the mythical blade towards him. As he caught it by the grip he could feel power returning to him. Power he had not realized he missed.

Skeletor, thrashing wildly, trying to pull the dagger from his back caught sight of his attacker who now lunged with another blade. Instinctively he threw his hand up and unleashed a flurry of lightning bolts at the wild woman. The impact of the blasts jerked her off her feet and slammed her into the nearest wall. As the bolts subsided Kisana slid limply to the floor.

"Kisana! No!" He-Man screamed. With a rage he had never before felt He- Man swung maniacally at the head of his foe. Skeletor ducked and the sword met brick, sending shockwaves through the structure as hairline cracks radiated from the impact point. He-Man wasted no time in swinging around aiming reckless swings at the skull-faced sorcerer. Skeletor back-pedaled desperately, trying to escape the crippling blows. If one of those strikes landed, Skeletor knew he would be no more. He could feel a wall looming above him, soon to cut off his retreat. Skeletor wheeled to the nearest window and threw himself out just as the Sword of Power struck an arc through where the Dark Lord stood only a second earlier.

A screech sounded below and He-Man looked outside to see Skeletor being carried off upon the wings of a giant black falcon. "Flee Skeletor!" he shouted to the departing figure. "Flee and savor what few moments of your life remains, for I swear upon my honor that you will not survive our next encounter!"

Rushing to Kisana's motionless body He-Man put an ear to Kisana's chest. The Queen knelt on her other side and gently held up her wrist. It told her what she could already see etched on He-Man's face. The young lady was lost to them.

Marlena stepped discreetly away and watched the Eternian Champion grieve. It was unsettling, He-Man, who had ever since he appeared, been a rock of ages upon which Eternia rested, confident he would protect them from whatever evil manifested itself, stood before Marlena vulnerable. He was human, like the rest of them. It is always so easy to believe in the unflappable strength of others, to come to rely on them for our own courage and need for affirmation. It was so easy to forget that they too needed love and understanding and compassion.

Marlena placed a sympathetic hand on the hero's shoulder, "He-Man," she said gently, "we must be going." He nodded and when he rose he did something that would haunt Marlena for ages, he gripped her in a hug and buried his face in her shoulder. She could feel the moisture of his tears soaking through her dress. It reminded her all too much of her son, the way he used to seek comfort from her when he was younger.

After what seemed like an eternity He-Man moved away and picked up the body of the young woman he had called Kisana. "Yes we must be going." He said hoarsely and he exited the throne room. Marlena stood there gaping after the enigmatic warrior, mulling on a puzzling sentence he had whispered in her ear, "If only you could see me…"

Part 55

Marlena first went back to the weapons room to retrieve He-Man's gear. She caught back up with him in the main hall and was pleased to see Duncan, Stratos, Agantraas and a few sailors and Avionians she did not know. Though relieved they all were, a pall of tension hung heavily in the air. He-Man still held Kisana in his arms and said very little. They could all sense he was in pain and his mourning was respected.

Stratos approached Marlena. "Majesty it is great to see you alive. But if you will excuse us, my compatriots and I are very eager to return to Avion."

Marlena smiled "Of course Stratos. You have my eternal gratitude for your bravery and assistance in these trying times. Please give my personal thanks to your Elders."

He looked over his shoulder at the silent He-Man, who had walked off a ways to be by himself. "Do you think he will be alright?"

Marlena recalled the cryptic message and wondered if he ever had been alright. "In time Stratos, he just needs time."

Those who remained had a short repast and soon began their hike through the Jendor Pass. Jendor was the southernmost passage through the Eternian Range, which led directly to the Kaetorean Grasslands where they hoped to meet with Randor's forces. The air of apprehension remained as they all traveled quietly around the still stricken hero. Everyone felt unnerved by the sight of seeing their greatest icon in such a weakened state.

It only took half a day to clear the Pass, though the silence made it like days. As they exited from the Pass they saw Teela approach them. "Thank their Graces, everyone's alright." Except, Teela soon realized, all was not right. The Queen, her father, Lord Agantraas and their companions all wore solemn look. He-Man carried in his arms a woman, whom she quickly saw was dead. And Adam was not with them.

She walked to her father and asked if they knew of the prince's fate. It was to her relief that he was alright and waiting for them in Eternos. Duncan also told her of Kisana and how she had rescued both the prince and He-Man and Teela suddenly understood the mood. Duncan asked her of Randor's armies and where they were.

"They were still celebrating their victory over Skeletor's armies when I left them. Though I imagine he is not far behind.

True to her word they met Randor a day later as the united Eternian armies marched across the Grasslands. Arataan was overjoyed to see his son alive as was Randor to hear that his family too, was in good health. They made camp there and caught up on their stories over the last few months.

All but He-Man, who sat apart, conflicted. On one hand he wanted to celebrate and be with his family, but that was something only Adam could do. Nor did he feel celebratory. He sat out by the wagon which now bore Kisana's body. Does victory always come at such a high cost, where's the fairness in that? Wasn't one meant to enjoy victory? Maybe, in the faerie tales they did. In the fables there would have been last words, spoken to soothe the ailing heart. There had been none of that. Instead, there was a kiss, a kiss that would haunt him forever, a kiss that promised him a future of love and happiness. Then moments later it became a lie. Skeletor made it a lie, that's what he had to remember. He owed his grief to Skeletor and he owed it to Kisana to avenge the lie. He had not threatened in vain – the next time he and Skeletor clashed only one would survive. But there would be no more slaughters by Skeletor's evil machinations. That's all He-Man had to hold onto, the promise of revenge.

Epilogue

It had been two months since the Royal family returned to Eternos City. They had arrived to indeed find their son safely home. He-Man had left them during their trek through the Il Grando Pass saying he had some business to attend to and a request for the King; that Kisana be buried in the hall of heroes. The cemetery set aside for persons who rose above and beyond the call of duty in the protection of Eternia. The Prince had agreed with the champion. She lived her life in hiding and he would not allow her to go unnoticed in the annals of history. If he could not give her life then he would give her recognition that heroes came from the unlikeliest places under the unlikeliest circumstances. She would never have to hide again.

Teela, who seemed to be dealing with pain of her own, had disappeared. She left a note resigning her post as Captain of the Guard and saying that she needed to live life as a person for a change. Something she could not do in service to the King. Worried though Duncan was, he understood. Adam understood all too bitterly.

The Prince of Eternia was a cause of great concern to all in the palace. Ever since he came back he seemed to be in a depression. The usually jovial, outgoing prince had become withdrawn, keeping to his own counsel. Many incorrectly assumed he pined for the former captain of the guard, whom many knew he had a crush on. What they did not see, however, was the young prince sneak from his chambers each night to visit the Hall of Heroes and stand before the tomb of the woman they knew only as 'Kisana'.

On one such night, as Adam knelt before Kisana's headstone, he heard the flutter of wings. He knew that it belonged to no ordinary creature. "They say life is a series of lessons. That each moment and event we experience teaches us something new and makes us stronger people." Adam looked at the falcon-like form of the Sorceress. "Tell me, what was I supposed to learn from this?"

The Sorceress fluttered down, coming to rest on the gravestone. "To the truly difficult questions, there is no one answer." The falcon cocked its head to one side, "Nor is there any comfort to be sought from them." The Sorceress added, "What you seek from me young Adam, are not answers, but relief. Unfortunately I cannot give that to you. I cannot even give that to myself."

"I miss her!"

"I know young one. I know." The falcon studied Adam. "Remember, do not let your emotions bar your goals."

"My goals are guided by my emotions, it is clear what I must do." Adam said spitefully.

"Skeletor escaped because you lost control. You even fell to him because you were careless. Your mother almost led us to destruction because she though she must prove a point. Your father…" Adam was now listening intently, "nearly died because he thought that only he could make everything right. Teela, very nearly slipped into madness because she believed that she could handle everything life threw at her."

The Sorceress flapped her wings, "If these events taught you anything Prince Adam, is that too often we allow our pride to act as our conscience. We refuse to let go of that one emotion and it blinds us. I am not saying pride is a bad thing, it is an admirable trait in our leaders, it is one of the many traits that attracts us to certain people. But there is a fine line between pride and arrogance, a line so thin as to be indiscernible. Each and everyone of us has a responsibility to our fellow people, to protect them as though they were family. It is when we place our pride above all else that we fail. People become bitter, hostile when their pride, their ego is not assuaged. They seek to make others pay for their sins and wars start. Let not your anger, your pride dictate your actions Adam, it is with a compassionate heart that you will eventually defeat Skeletor."

With that she flew away, allowing Adam to think her words over in his mind. He would come to understand her meaning in time. She knew because she herself had once been in the same position. She knew everything through which he now suffered, she could have told him, but that would not have helped. Only time would provide the salve he needed for his pain. Love, life, anger, revenge and pride Adam had come to know in the last few months, lessons whose messages would not be clear for years to come. Vague as it may be, life is all about these experiences and how we cope with these trials determines our morals and prejudices and the kind of people we become.

The End