Hope Amongst the Darkness
By: Clueless_One

Rating: PG 13 bordering on R at times for violence.

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em wish I did. You know the usual: all characters and setting belong to their respected owners.

Spoilers: Up to, and including, the "Price of Deceit" in the cartoon.

Feedback: Please? Mmmmm...feedback.


Prologue: Breaching the Barrier

Deep within The Dark Hemisphere of Eternia — east of the Blood River and just north of the Dunes of Doom — a thin, short, figure cloaked from head to toe in ripped and faded maroon robes awkwardly knelt onto burnt volcanic rock and sand. Underneath his loose fitting garments old frail bones popped and creaked from the exertion. Once he had been a sorcerer of merit feared and respected as a general in the greatest army to set foot on Eternia. Now, like his robes, he too was old and tattered, and Mologg knew his last hours were drawing near.

He had no real complaints. After all, he lived the life he always wanted, and a long and full life it was. Longer then any hundred men had the right to live, and in that time he always remained dedicated to his purpose. To his cause, his people, and above all else he was dedicated to his Master. Even throughout these dark years, when many would have deserted, he held true and his loyalty never diminished. Instead of seeking glory for himself, he chose to use his magically extended lifespan to achieve his Master's freedom. And he did so without a bit of regret.

"These will be the final pieces you will require." He stood, an agonizingly painful process these days, and turned to see who had spoken. A twinge of fear raced along his spine when looking into the man's shadow filled hood. A part of him was thankful for the hood hiding his face, but another part wondered when he had fallen so low as to be afraid of anyone other then his Master. Beside the man, about waist high, floated a large stone altar as well as a small idol of his Master. He knew another of his Lord's servants would be bringing these, and would carry out the spell, but to see who the servant was came as a very unwelcome shock.

"Interesting that I never knew of you before," Skeletor said, and Mologg felt his skin crawl. "It is rare for someone with your talents to go unnoticed for all of this time. Rarer still to go unnoticed by me."

Another twinge of fear filled him. Years ago had heard the whispers of a young sorcerer by the name of Keldor seeking anyone with knowledge of the Dark Arts, and the rumors of what became of the ones he found. "His Lord has many servants, and many followers, still to this day." Mologg answered. "Something you should know, and we do require secrecy. Do we not?"

"Indeed." He stood there a moment, his cloak gently billowing in the night's breeze, before speaking again. "I want reassurance that you're Master will give me what I asked, before I help."

Mologg was about to tell him not to question the orders of His Excellency, when he felt something —no— someone take control of his body, and when he spoke the rasping voice that came from his mouth was not his own. "You have done well Skeletor, and when I have that which I seek Eternia will be left for you to rule in my name."

"And the Power of the Elders?"

"As I have promised it will be yours. Soon we shall stand side by side. Then Eternia will tremble."

"I look foreword to it."

"As do I. Now, let it begin"

"As he said, begin old man." Skeletor ordered.

His body back under his own control, Mologg knelt again taking a moment to regain his breath, and let his body adjust to the discomfort of the hard rock before beginning his part of the task. One slender, wrinkled, blue, stick of an arm stretched out from within a wide sleeve, and in his bony hand he held a short, slender, dagger that curved slightly in a serpentine pattern. A small cloud of ash and sand lifted from the ground, swirling briefly, before falling back to the ground.

"I can not."

"Why?"

"The wind, I must draw the spell in the sand and -"

"Kiqog!" Skeletor shouted. "There, your wind has stopped."

With a grunt he began writing the complex letter patterns that made up his Lord's native language, and remembered attempting this very spell once before. He also remembered the subsequent failure that resulted, but of that details were fuzzed. Gaps remained in his memory, hours perhaps days blurred together in an almost forgotten dream. He started the spell in this very spot, just as Skeletor would in mere moments, only the next thing he could remember was waking trapped on the Eternian side of the Mystic Wall. It wasn't until the wall came done that he could contact his Master and ask what happened. Now after sixteen years, and with Skeletor's magic, his failure would be rectified. Tonight would begin the process of his Master's return, a return that could not be reversed. Then his Dark Lord would be free to wage war on Eternia, to seek vengeance, and conquer.

Mologg sighed in relief when the preparation was complete, leaving only one thing left to add, but first he looked over the symbols. Double-checking to make certain there were no mistakes. He cleared his thoughts and reached out to cross the same dimensional barriers they were about to destroy, searching for contact with his Dark Lord. It's time, he told him at last.

He placed the small stone figurine atop the altar, handed the knife - given to him centuries ago by his Master - to Skeletor, and stood in the center of the circle. His eyes remained on the blade, as the Overlord of Evil placed it over his heart. Calling forth his magic he prepared himself to become the sacrifice, and felt the sharp steal slide into his body. "Ikto vrsom calla. Ikto vrsom calla anja." Skeletor began to chant the words repeatedly. A bright swirl of green light appeared forming a vortex above the altar, and he knew tonight would be a thing of glory. Mologg's only regret, as his life faded away, was that he would not see his Master reign victorious.

***

Teela'na, the Sorceress of Grayskull, awoke in panic only to find herself surrounded by lush pillows and safely tucked into the plush mattress of her bed, but the dream she had moments ago was still vividly replaying itself in her mind. Showing her flickering images of what was once destined but now would never be, as well as pieces of the future that now were forming to replace it. A future built on pain, suffering, and death.

This was not the future the Elders envisioned, nor was it even the one they feared and strove to prevent. Things were changing tonight. Magic far darker and older then she herself understood was disrupting future events from the destined path. Somewhere on Eternia fate itself shifted, and she knew nothing would be the same. Her link to the Elders and their legacy — the sphere that lay protected deep in the caverns below Grayskull — had shown her all it could in the dream. Haunting images of friends becoming foes, betrayal, heartache, blood battling blood, death, the men and women of Eternia enslaved, and the power and the honor of the Grayskull destroyed.

Hearing a footstep behind her she turned with her fist raised and called forth the Power of the Elders ready to attack. She stopped when she saw her intruder step into the dim moonlight from window and released her power. "Zodak, w-" she began to ask why he was here before seeing the reluctance in his stance. He raised his baldhead slowly, empty eyes locking on hers and she knew "You saw it as well."

He gave a short nod as he approached, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, and she leaned in allowing herself to accept the comfort he offered. If only momentarily. Their friendship, and relationship if you would call it that, was complicated. Not based on love, so much as based on mutual respect, need, and perhaps understanding. She knew they both struggled to restrain emotions and remain unattached, distant, and even cold to the outside world. Both remained isolated, giving their life to the service of the Elders. It was that isolation that briefly brought them together, just as it was the very same isolation that tore them apart.

"If it was not enough that both Hsss and Skeletor remain threats, but now...." He let the comment fade. "What will you do?" he asked.

"What I must, alert He-Man and the Masters, have them prepare Randor and his army, then ready myself to defend Grayskull, and pray that the Elders give He-Man the strength to face this."

"And the spell?" he asked.

She looked away. "The spell will break itself when the time comes, I have no control over it. But I fear all will be revealed before this is over."

"I was never in favor of it to begin with. Such things should not be tampered with."

"Nor was I, Zodak, but the decision was not mine. I merely followed the wishes of the Elders."

Wisely he let it drop this time. She had argued her point on this matter with him for over a decade, and both knew they would never sway the other. "Will you be alright?" He asked. "I saw what will happen, or may happen to you, and I was...concerned" Reminded of the fate she saw for herself by his words she closed her eyes.

Searing, white hot, pain followed the knife's path across her stomach as another shallow cut was added. She struggled to free herself, a useless effort, she knew, with her magic denied from her. But there was nothing else to do. She pulled at the chains binding her hands from the ceiling, and strained hoping the bonds would come off for the hundredth time.

Again the knife ripped its way across her skin. Deeper this time, and slower. She stopped struggling.

"Why?" she asked as she stared into her attacker's blue eyes. So familiar were those eyes that it made her heart ache to see in them the pain and hatred this girl possessed. Especially knowing the compassion and love those same eyes could have held. Were meant to have held. "Why are you doing this? I know you, even if you do not know yourself, and I know that this isn't in your nature. "

"You're wrong, this is what I was born to do."

"No, you were destined for-"

"My destiny," she interrupted, "is to kill you and hand my father the Power of the Elders." She paused, pushing a strand of blond hair from her face. "I think this game has gone on long enough. Don't you agree."

"No! Ado-"

She felt every blow, every excruciating moment of the torture and wondered: if she had felt what was to be done to her, then had Zodak lived through his own death at Hsss's hands? Taking a long look at him she knew her answer. "I will be, but will you though?"

"You know me to well, Teela'na."

"Sometimes, and sometimes it is as though I do not know you at all."

He had the decency to look away before a hint of a smile tweaked at his full lips. "I can say the same of you."

"You still never answered me."

He sighed, revealing once more how troubled he was, but never answered her question. "I just came to be certain you were alright. I-I must go. There are things I must do. Preparations I must make in case these prophecies hold true."

"Will you be there when we need you?"

"You have but to ask."

"Then be here when I tell He-Man what is coming, it will be easier if someone who has lived through it were here to answer his questions." He nodded again before leaving.

Alone once more she thought of the horrific images seen in the visions. Adam inside Grayskull lying in a pool of his own blood. Slain with the Sword of Power by the same young woman from the previous vision. Uncontroably, a sob escaped with the memory of what would be done to her daughter when she sought vengeance for Adam's death.

Angrily, she wiped away the tears from her eyes before drawing in the Power given to her by the Elders. Focusing on its arcane energies she pushed the emotions that were overtaking her away, she could not afford such mortal weaknesses. Not now when she had to focus on the dreams and try to remember every detail. Because one thing that stood out above all others, was that in the dreams there had been no warning. No visions from the Elders.

If that one road of destiny could be altered so too could others, and if so perhaps some of the Elders goals could still be achieved. Hidden in this coming darkness she had seen a small beacon of light, bringing with it a thin tendril of hope. Nothing was certain any longer. As long as that shimmering golden ray of hope remained she would hold it in her heart, and when the time came she would fight for it. Fight so that the power and the honor of Grayskull would stand united, fight for Eternia, and most of all fight for the legacy she would leave her daughter.

***

Somewhere...

It was done. Hordak smiled as a low rumbling sound began vibrating in his chest and spread forth erupting from his mouth, filling his throne room with a combination of wild snorts and deep rasping laughter. It would take time to finish the work Skeletor and Mologg began, but the first and most important step was complete. He had learned from the last time he escaped from the banishment the Elders sentenced him to. This time the Barrier was completely destroyed, and so too was the bond that linked him to this dimension. Without it there was no way to prevent him from returning, or to send him back. And Skeletor had been the key to it all. Perhaps, when he last walked on Eternia's soil Mologg would have been strong enough breach the barrier alone, but time had taken its toll the loyal fool. Skeletor though.... Something told him Skeletor would have to learn his place. Power such as his commonly led to arrogance, and a sense of superiority. If he could not be controlled...well then he would need to be destroyed.

"Shadow Weaver go...prepare the mystics for the next step."

As the door closed behind the witch he turned to the blond girl at his side. "Soon, my daughter, we will be free, and by our hands all of Eternia will suffer. Then once the Power of the Elders is mine, the Universe will fall to our feet."

Continued in Chapter One: The Coward of the Palace