******Disclaimer in chapter 1
******Thanks to everyone so far for the feedback..and for those who want to know when I'm going to finish 'Return' let's just say I'm working on it and it's coming soon. Anyways, here's the next installment. Feel free to let me know what you think!
CHAPTER 5:
"Where is he already?"
Skeletor grumbled as he tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne. His patience grew thin and he was irritable. It wasn't enough that he had to put up with some young hot-shot but it would be nice if the hot shot were on time so he could at least do something productive with the remainder of his day.
Evil-Lyn tried to soothe her master and placed a recently manicured hand on her hip.
"Maybe he likes to be fashionably late," she cooed.
Skeletor glared at her and, taking a hint, she backed away from him. In the shadows his henchmen: Trap-Jaw, Tri-Clops, MerMan and Beast-man stood waiting, silently. More than anything they were too afraid to say anything so as not to incur their master's wrath.
Skeletor sighed. Even with a powerful army and wondrous magical abilities at his disposal, he has never been able to gain access to Castle Grayskull. Now Horde Prime was losing faith in him. This latest revelations were too much and insane frustration built up inside of him.
He frowned. He would never let this little Horde lackey show him up. He just had to figure out how to get around him and take credit for Grayskull's fall, in the event that the lackey was successful.
His concentration broken when, out of nowhere, a red, glowing portal opened in the throne room. He leaned back as a slim figure dressed in a full- length red gown bearing the symbol of the Horde appeared from the portal. Her face was covered but Skeletor saw two green flickering lights where he imagined her eyes were.
The figure hovered above the ground and crossed her arms as the second figure, shrouded in a black cloak, walked through the portal and into the throne room. The second figure, was obviously male and well-built, but Skeletor could not see his face as it was shrouded by the hood of his cloak. The man set down a small bag at his feet and looked up at Skeletor, his facial features were now more highlighted by the moonlight that was shining into the throne room.
"Skeletor, I presume," the man growled. "I trust you were expecting me."
Next to him, the lady in red looked around, as if scopeing the place. She appeared to be very focused on where she was and on her traveling companion. But there was a nervous quality about her that made Evil-Lyn take notice.
Skeletor nodded and stood up, his blue muscles rippling as he moved. In an effort to intimidate his guest, he held his havoc staff to his right and stared at the man intensely, waiting to see if he would flinch.
"I am Skeletor," he snarled. "And I can only assume that you are the great General Damas we have heard so much about?"
Next to him, Evil-Lyn sighed as her pale cheeks flushed. Skeletor would have rolled his eyes if he had any, but still paid no heed to her lust. He was more bothered by the fact that despite his intimidation efforts, the General did not flinch. In fact, he merely crossed his arms and looked back at the overlord.
"Ay," he said gruffly. "I am General Damas of the Great Hordak's army."
He pointed at the floating witch without looking at her.
"This is Shadow Weaver, mystic advisor to Hordak."
Damas looked around the room and at Skeletor's minions, most of who could not believe that the man in front of them was the same god-like warrior they had been told about. He had no special powers that they could see, and while he was intimidating in appearance, nothing about his demeanor frightened them. They wondered if all they had heard was true. In his mind, Beast-Man wondered if he could take down this great military leader in a one on one fight. He resigned himself to believing he could and chuckled under his breath.
Evil-Lyn on the other hand was taken hook, line and sinker. The witch stared at the General with a girlish flirtation in her purple eyes and she ran her hand up and down her staff seductively.
Damas, however, ignored her and approached Skeletor, almost looking him right into the eyesockets. The others were amazed that he showed no fear and what appeared to be no respect for Skeletor.
"I assume you have been briefed as to the details of my mission?" Damas asked. "I wish to get started immediately."
A twinge in Skeletor's head nagged at him. There was something about this young man that he couldn't quite put his finger on. I strange sense of déjà vu passed over him. Perhaps he had seen him before at headquarters, but he didn't recall ever seeing anyone so young in the presence of Prime.
No, there was something else. He could see the General's features, and there was something in his eyes he thought he recognized. Something familiar. Stranger yet, each time the man moved closed to him, the more strange he felt. As if he were ill. He stared harder at the General, trying to decipher the mysterious questions in his head.
Shadow Weaver floated up next to the general and folded her arms across her chest. Instantly, Skeletor's mind snapped back into mission mode and he sat back down on his throne. He garnered that whatever it was that struck him about the General, was probably inconsequential in the long run. It was time to get down to business.
"Yes," he replied snidely. "Your mission. Your mission of the 'utmost importance.' What is it you will need from me to complete this mission of yours? I should think the legendary Damas who defeated a whole world would not need any assistance from we that are so obviously inept."
Damas frowned and gritted his teeth. No one dared talk to him like that and live to tell the tale. However, this wasn't Etheria where he could bind the infidel up and put him through the most excruciating pain they had ever endured. He had to be diplomatic, despite his wanting to gut this failure that dared sit on a throne and claim that he is a high commander in Prime's service.
There was something else bothering Damas. It pulled at his insides ever since he stepped out of the portal. He was nauseous, but refused to give any indication that felt poorly. He chalked it up to the portal travel and focused on the immediate task in front of him.
"I expect your FULL cooperation," he growled at an unwincing Skeletor. "As does Lord Prime. Perhaps if you shut that bony trap of yours long enough, we can get through this mission successfully."
There was a gasp in the throne room. No one ever dared speak to Skeletor like that. Evil-Lyn was so overcome by power hungry lust that she almost fainted. Her cheeks burned hotly.
Skeletor, on the other hand, was less than amused. He leaned in close to Damas' face and sneered.
"This may be your mission, BOY, but never forget who's in charge here," the dark leader hissed.
Damas didn't flinch and merely stared back at Skeletor.
"I shan't," he said defiantly. "Because for the time being, I am calling the shots here. It was decreed by the mighty Prime. Now, if you're finished babbling, I have important work to attend to."
The two continued talking briskly back and forth, occasionally sharing an insult or two. So captured was everyone's interest that no one noticed the large orange falcon that flew into the mouth of Snake Mountain and hid behind a large stone gargoyle.
The Sorceress's mind took in everything she could see and tried to listen but she could hear little from her hiding spot. She dared not move any closer out of fear of discovery. Instead, she recorded her visual observations in her mind. Skeletor and his minions were talking intensely with two others. Two strangers. She felt ill again but fought it.
The falcon strained to get a better look. The one, a female most likely, seemed to be some kind of enchantress, since she was hovering about a foot off the ground. Her back was turned to the Sorceress so she could not she her face. The other, a man judging by his build and demeanor, seemed to be instructing Skeletor on something. The Sorceress almost chuckled inwardly, almost. She found it odd that someone who would act in such a way towards Skeletor was still standing.
The man must be of some great importance to Skeletor, other wise he would be dead by now, she concluded.
"That can only mean trouble," she thought to herself.
She strained her falcon eyes to get a better look. The man turned to pick up his bag, facing her direction. She tried to make out a physical description of him but his face was hidden in the shadows of the long cloak he wore.
She strained harder. She thought she saw something familiar about him, but was desperate to get a better look. There was something she recognized, and she tried to make out what it was. Her head swirled with nausea.
Suddenly, her falcon eyes widened as she came to terms with what she was seeing.
"No," she thought. "It's impossible! It can not be!"
The falcon flew out of the mountain as fast as she could. As she soared through the winds thoughts ran wild in her mind. She had to summon Man-At- Arms and Princess Adora as soon as possible. She knew terrible danger was just around the corner.
"The Horde," she thought to herself as the vision of the red horde emblem on the man's chest caused tormented memories to spring forth in her mind. "The Horde has returned to Eternia."
*******
Man-At-Arms sat in his workshop fiddling with his memory projector while the rest of the palace inhabitants slept.
For some reason on this night, his mind flooded with memories. These were not happy memories, though, these were visions of the past that part of him wished to forget and another part of him fought to preserve every detail. Memories of a cursed and tragic day for the people of Eternia, especially for the royal family and himself.
Long ago, he swore to himself that he would never use his projector to analyze his memory of that day. There was nothing more he could do, he reminded himself. The search lasted for years with no leads. Digging up these painful memories would only torture him.
Man-At-Arms examined the headpiece of the projector closely and took a deep breath.
"Not knowing is torture enough," he said. "But maybe time will have given me the clarity to see something I didn't see before."
He leaned back in his chair and took his helmet off revealing his salt and pepper colored hair. He put in the earpieces in and placed the bronze headpiece over his forehead and squinted as he adjusted the fit. He then pushed a few buttons and watched as the pictures of his memories played out on the white wall next to him.
"Stop you fiend!" he heard himself say as he watched the events through younger eyes. "Hordak, I command you to stop!"
He saw the silver armored man, well sort of a man, stop and turn. In one arm he carried a long laser rifle. One that he had used hours earlier on many of Duncan's friends and fellow guards. Their blood was smattered on the front of the evil one's uniform. In the other arm, he held a squirming infant. Man-At-Arms shoved tree branches out of his way and pointed the stun ray at Hordak, who only looked at him with an evil grin.
"You wouldn't dare fire at me and risk harming the boy, Man-At-Arms," he seethed as he pointed his rifle at the child. "Put your weapon down or I'll kill him myself."
Man-At-Arms rubbed his temple uneasily as he watched himself drop his laser. Hordak's grin got bigger.
"I thought you'd see things my way," he cackled.
Man-At-Arms surveyed the area around them. They were a good couple of miles still away from Snake Mountain and many more miles away from the palace or Castle Grayskull. They were alone, on the outskirts of the wastelands. There was no back-up available to help him. He was on his own.
Hordak laughed and pointed the rifle at him. His black lips curled back in a defiant sneer.
"You may have prevented me from taking the palace," he laughed. "But I did get one souvenir!"
The infant squirmed and started to cry.
As Man-At-Arms watched the projection, his eyes teared and he once again felt his heart start to break. He debated on whether or not he should stop the projection. Despite the growing knot in his chest, he relented and kept going.
"Please," he watched himself beg Hordak. "Please, spare him. Take me instead, but please don't hurt the boy!"
Hordak looked at him with contempt.
"I won't hurt him," he sneered. "I'll kill him, but I promise you he won't feel a thing."
Man-At-Arms watched as he jumped up and charged at Hordak.
"No!" he yelled. "I'll kill you myself before I let you hurt that child!"
This was the part that made Man-At-Arms cringe. Hordak raised his rifle and fired at the charging soldier, striking him in the right shoulder. Duncan was thrown backwards and landed on his back, the laser wound in his shoulder bleeding and throbbing in pain.
He started to lose consciousness. Man-At-Arms struggled to focus his memory as the picture started to fade. As a backup, he pushed some buttons on the nearby computer and started to download the projection.
He watched as Hordak leaned over him and placed a foot on his chest.
"Sorry Man-At-Arms," he cackled. "But I'm afraid young Prince Adam will be coming with me."
He turned and walked away. This was the part where Man-At-Arms had blacked out, only later to find Hordak and the prince gone. He focused as hard as he could to remember.
He watched himself start to drift out, and a wave of disappointment swept over. Nonetheless, he kept focusing. The image grew darker and darker as the memory of his unconscious set in.
He reached up and his fingers had just touched the headband when he heard the mumbling. He stopped and tried to concentrate on what was being said, but could make nothing out. He had been too groggy from the blast and gave into his unconsciousness.
Man-At-Arms let out a deep sigh and leaned back, removing the headpiece from his forehead.
"What was that sound?" he asked himself under his breath. "It sounded like Hordak speaking. It might have been a clue to where he was going..if I could only remember."
He slammed his fists down on his desk in frustration and threw things around his office few minutes.
Even though it had been more than 20 years, the pain of that day still ate him alive. He had failed. Failed the royal family, failed the Sorceress, failed Eternia and worse yet, as he had come to discover over the years, he failed Adam. Because of his mistake, he cost everyone the Prince and as the Sorceress had once explained to him, one of the greatest warriors Eternia would have ever known.
After he was done with his frustrated tirade, he wiped his eyes and looked around his desk. The light on his computer blinked, indicating that he had just downloaded something successfully.
A light went off in Duncan's head and he furiously started punching buttons and playing with the machine. He worked intensively all through the night, never stopping once for a break.
Hours later, the morning light shined through the window of his workshop as Man-At-Arms snoozed lightly on his desk. In his hand, he clutched a printout.
Princess Adora burst through the door and ran to her teacher's desk. Her hair flew widely around her and her face was the expression of worry.
She shook Man-At-Arms by the shoulder in an effort to revive him.
"Duncan," she yelled. "Duncan, wake up!"
She looked around the workshop. The whole place was in disarray, papers everywhere, machine parts scattered. She wondered if he had been attacked in the night. She shook him again.
"Duncan! You've gotta wake up!!!!!" she yelled once more, sounding a little like She-Ra as she did.
Man-At-Arms stirred and opened his eyes. As his vision began to focus, he saw the lavender and white combat suit Adora always wore for her training. He looked up at her and smiled.
"I must have dozed off," he yawned and started to sit up when he realized what he had in his hand.
His eyes got wide and he ignored Adora as she started talking to him about something. He looked at the paper again and a big smile crawled across his face.
At the same time, Adora frantically explained to him that the Sorceress had contacted her and wanted them both at Grayskull immediately, that Eternia was in danger from a threat greater than Skeletor and that they had to act quickly.
They looked at each other and at the same time yelled:
"We've got to get to Grayskull!"
******Thanks to everyone so far for the feedback..and for those who want to know when I'm going to finish 'Return' let's just say I'm working on it and it's coming soon. Anyways, here's the next installment. Feel free to let me know what you think!
CHAPTER 5:
"Where is he already?"
Skeletor grumbled as he tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne. His patience grew thin and he was irritable. It wasn't enough that he had to put up with some young hot-shot but it would be nice if the hot shot were on time so he could at least do something productive with the remainder of his day.
Evil-Lyn tried to soothe her master and placed a recently manicured hand on her hip.
"Maybe he likes to be fashionably late," she cooed.
Skeletor glared at her and, taking a hint, she backed away from him. In the shadows his henchmen: Trap-Jaw, Tri-Clops, MerMan and Beast-man stood waiting, silently. More than anything they were too afraid to say anything so as not to incur their master's wrath.
Skeletor sighed. Even with a powerful army and wondrous magical abilities at his disposal, he has never been able to gain access to Castle Grayskull. Now Horde Prime was losing faith in him. This latest revelations were too much and insane frustration built up inside of him.
He frowned. He would never let this little Horde lackey show him up. He just had to figure out how to get around him and take credit for Grayskull's fall, in the event that the lackey was successful.
His concentration broken when, out of nowhere, a red, glowing portal opened in the throne room. He leaned back as a slim figure dressed in a full- length red gown bearing the symbol of the Horde appeared from the portal. Her face was covered but Skeletor saw two green flickering lights where he imagined her eyes were.
The figure hovered above the ground and crossed her arms as the second figure, shrouded in a black cloak, walked through the portal and into the throne room. The second figure, was obviously male and well-built, but Skeletor could not see his face as it was shrouded by the hood of his cloak. The man set down a small bag at his feet and looked up at Skeletor, his facial features were now more highlighted by the moonlight that was shining into the throne room.
"Skeletor, I presume," the man growled. "I trust you were expecting me."
Next to him, the lady in red looked around, as if scopeing the place. She appeared to be very focused on where she was and on her traveling companion. But there was a nervous quality about her that made Evil-Lyn take notice.
Skeletor nodded and stood up, his blue muscles rippling as he moved. In an effort to intimidate his guest, he held his havoc staff to his right and stared at the man intensely, waiting to see if he would flinch.
"I am Skeletor," he snarled. "And I can only assume that you are the great General Damas we have heard so much about?"
Next to him, Evil-Lyn sighed as her pale cheeks flushed. Skeletor would have rolled his eyes if he had any, but still paid no heed to her lust. He was more bothered by the fact that despite his intimidation efforts, the General did not flinch. In fact, he merely crossed his arms and looked back at the overlord.
"Ay," he said gruffly. "I am General Damas of the Great Hordak's army."
He pointed at the floating witch without looking at her.
"This is Shadow Weaver, mystic advisor to Hordak."
Damas looked around the room and at Skeletor's minions, most of who could not believe that the man in front of them was the same god-like warrior they had been told about. He had no special powers that they could see, and while he was intimidating in appearance, nothing about his demeanor frightened them. They wondered if all they had heard was true. In his mind, Beast-Man wondered if he could take down this great military leader in a one on one fight. He resigned himself to believing he could and chuckled under his breath.
Evil-Lyn on the other hand was taken hook, line and sinker. The witch stared at the General with a girlish flirtation in her purple eyes and she ran her hand up and down her staff seductively.
Damas, however, ignored her and approached Skeletor, almost looking him right into the eyesockets. The others were amazed that he showed no fear and what appeared to be no respect for Skeletor.
"I assume you have been briefed as to the details of my mission?" Damas asked. "I wish to get started immediately."
A twinge in Skeletor's head nagged at him. There was something about this young man that he couldn't quite put his finger on. I strange sense of déjà vu passed over him. Perhaps he had seen him before at headquarters, but he didn't recall ever seeing anyone so young in the presence of Prime.
No, there was something else. He could see the General's features, and there was something in his eyes he thought he recognized. Something familiar. Stranger yet, each time the man moved closed to him, the more strange he felt. As if he were ill. He stared harder at the General, trying to decipher the mysterious questions in his head.
Shadow Weaver floated up next to the general and folded her arms across her chest. Instantly, Skeletor's mind snapped back into mission mode and he sat back down on his throne. He garnered that whatever it was that struck him about the General, was probably inconsequential in the long run. It was time to get down to business.
"Yes," he replied snidely. "Your mission. Your mission of the 'utmost importance.' What is it you will need from me to complete this mission of yours? I should think the legendary Damas who defeated a whole world would not need any assistance from we that are so obviously inept."
Damas frowned and gritted his teeth. No one dared talk to him like that and live to tell the tale. However, this wasn't Etheria where he could bind the infidel up and put him through the most excruciating pain they had ever endured. He had to be diplomatic, despite his wanting to gut this failure that dared sit on a throne and claim that he is a high commander in Prime's service.
There was something else bothering Damas. It pulled at his insides ever since he stepped out of the portal. He was nauseous, but refused to give any indication that felt poorly. He chalked it up to the portal travel and focused on the immediate task in front of him.
"I expect your FULL cooperation," he growled at an unwincing Skeletor. "As does Lord Prime. Perhaps if you shut that bony trap of yours long enough, we can get through this mission successfully."
There was a gasp in the throne room. No one ever dared speak to Skeletor like that. Evil-Lyn was so overcome by power hungry lust that she almost fainted. Her cheeks burned hotly.
Skeletor, on the other hand, was less than amused. He leaned in close to Damas' face and sneered.
"This may be your mission, BOY, but never forget who's in charge here," the dark leader hissed.
Damas didn't flinch and merely stared back at Skeletor.
"I shan't," he said defiantly. "Because for the time being, I am calling the shots here. It was decreed by the mighty Prime. Now, if you're finished babbling, I have important work to attend to."
The two continued talking briskly back and forth, occasionally sharing an insult or two. So captured was everyone's interest that no one noticed the large orange falcon that flew into the mouth of Snake Mountain and hid behind a large stone gargoyle.
The Sorceress's mind took in everything she could see and tried to listen but she could hear little from her hiding spot. She dared not move any closer out of fear of discovery. Instead, she recorded her visual observations in her mind. Skeletor and his minions were talking intensely with two others. Two strangers. She felt ill again but fought it.
The falcon strained to get a better look. The one, a female most likely, seemed to be some kind of enchantress, since she was hovering about a foot off the ground. Her back was turned to the Sorceress so she could not she her face. The other, a man judging by his build and demeanor, seemed to be instructing Skeletor on something. The Sorceress almost chuckled inwardly, almost. She found it odd that someone who would act in such a way towards Skeletor was still standing.
The man must be of some great importance to Skeletor, other wise he would be dead by now, she concluded.
"That can only mean trouble," she thought to herself.
She strained her falcon eyes to get a better look. The man turned to pick up his bag, facing her direction. She tried to make out a physical description of him but his face was hidden in the shadows of the long cloak he wore.
She strained harder. She thought she saw something familiar about him, but was desperate to get a better look. There was something she recognized, and she tried to make out what it was. Her head swirled with nausea.
Suddenly, her falcon eyes widened as she came to terms with what she was seeing.
"No," she thought. "It's impossible! It can not be!"
The falcon flew out of the mountain as fast as she could. As she soared through the winds thoughts ran wild in her mind. She had to summon Man-At- Arms and Princess Adora as soon as possible. She knew terrible danger was just around the corner.
"The Horde," she thought to herself as the vision of the red horde emblem on the man's chest caused tormented memories to spring forth in her mind. "The Horde has returned to Eternia."
*******
Man-At-Arms sat in his workshop fiddling with his memory projector while the rest of the palace inhabitants slept.
For some reason on this night, his mind flooded with memories. These were not happy memories, though, these were visions of the past that part of him wished to forget and another part of him fought to preserve every detail. Memories of a cursed and tragic day for the people of Eternia, especially for the royal family and himself.
Long ago, he swore to himself that he would never use his projector to analyze his memory of that day. There was nothing more he could do, he reminded himself. The search lasted for years with no leads. Digging up these painful memories would only torture him.
Man-At-Arms examined the headpiece of the projector closely and took a deep breath.
"Not knowing is torture enough," he said. "But maybe time will have given me the clarity to see something I didn't see before."
He leaned back in his chair and took his helmet off revealing his salt and pepper colored hair. He put in the earpieces in and placed the bronze headpiece over his forehead and squinted as he adjusted the fit. He then pushed a few buttons and watched as the pictures of his memories played out on the white wall next to him.
"Stop you fiend!" he heard himself say as he watched the events through younger eyes. "Hordak, I command you to stop!"
He saw the silver armored man, well sort of a man, stop and turn. In one arm he carried a long laser rifle. One that he had used hours earlier on many of Duncan's friends and fellow guards. Their blood was smattered on the front of the evil one's uniform. In the other arm, he held a squirming infant. Man-At-Arms shoved tree branches out of his way and pointed the stun ray at Hordak, who only looked at him with an evil grin.
"You wouldn't dare fire at me and risk harming the boy, Man-At-Arms," he seethed as he pointed his rifle at the child. "Put your weapon down or I'll kill him myself."
Man-At-Arms rubbed his temple uneasily as he watched himself drop his laser. Hordak's grin got bigger.
"I thought you'd see things my way," he cackled.
Man-At-Arms surveyed the area around them. They were a good couple of miles still away from Snake Mountain and many more miles away from the palace or Castle Grayskull. They were alone, on the outskirts of the wastelands. There was no back-up available to help him. He was on his own.
Hordak laughed and pointed the rifle at him. His black lips curled back in a defiant sneer.
"You may have prevented me from taking the palace," he laughed. "But I did get one souvenir!"
The infant squirmed and started to cry.
As Man-At-Arms watched the projection, his eyes teared and he once again felt his heart start to break. He debated on whether or not he should stop the projection. Despite the growing knot in his chest, he relented and kept going.
"Please," he watched himself beg Hordak. "Please, spare him. Take me instead, but please don't hurt the boy!"
Hordak looked at him with contempt.
"I won't hurt him," he sneered. "I'll kill him, but I promise you he won't feel a thing."
Man-At-Arms watched as he jumped up and charged at Hordak.
"No!" he yelled. "I'll kill you myself before I let you hurt that child!"
This was the part that made Man-At-Arms cringe. Hordak raised his rifle and fired at the charging soldier, striking him in the right shoulder. Duncan was thrown backwards and landed on his back, the laser wound in his shoulder bleeding and throbbing in pain.
He started to lose consciousness. Man-At-Arms struggled to focus his memory as the picture started to fade. As a backup, he pushed some buttons on the nearby computer and started to download the projection.
He watched as Hordak leaned over him and placed a foot on his chest.
"Sorry Man-At-Arms," he cackled. "But I'm afraid young Prince Adam will be coming with me."
He turned and walked away. This was the part where Man-At-Arms had blacked out, only later to find Hordak and the prince gone. He focused as hard as he could to remember.
He watched himself start to drift out, and a wave of disappointment swept over. Nonetheless, he kept focusing. The image grew darker and darker as the memory of his unconscious set in.
He reached up and his fingers had just touched the headband when he heard the mumbling. He stopped and tried to concentrate on what was being said, but could make nothing out. He had been too groggy from the blast and gave into his unconsciousness.
Man-At-Arms let out a deep sigh and leaned back, removing the headpiece from his forehead.
"What was that sound?" he asked himself under his breath. "It sounded like Hordak speaking. It might have been a clue to where he was going..if I could only remember."
He slammed his fists down on his desk in frustration and threw things around his office few minutes.
Even though it had been more than 20 years, the pain of that day still ate him alive. He had failed. Failed the royal family, failed the Sorceress, failed Eternia and worse yet, as he had come to discover over the years, he failed Adam. Because of his mistake, he cost everyone the Prince and as the Sorceress had once explained to him, one of the greatest warriors Eternia would have ever known.
After he was done with his frustrated tirade, he wiped his eyes and looked around his desk. The light on his computer blinked, indicating that he had just downloaded something successfully.
A light went off in Duncan's head and he furiously started punching buttons and playing with the machine. He worked intensively all through the night, never stopping once for a break.
Hours later, the morning light shined through the window of his workshop as Man-At-Arms snoozed lightly on his desk. In his hand, he clutched a printout.
Princess Adora burst through the door and ran to her teacher's desk. Her hair flew widely around her and her face was the expression of worry.
She shook Man-At-Arms by the shoulder in an effort to revive him.
"Duncan," she yelled. "Duncan, wake up!"
She looked around the workshop. The whole place was in disarray, papers everywhere, machine parts scattered. She wondered if he had been attacked in the night. She shook him again.
"Duncan! You've gotta wake up!!!!!" she yelled once more, sounding a little like She-Ra as she did.
Man-At-Arms stirred and opened his eyes. As his vision began to focus, he saw the lavender and white combat suit Adora always wore for her training. He looked up at her and smiled.
"I must have dozed off," he yawned and started to sit up when he realized what he had in his hand.
His eyes got wide and he ignored Adora as she started talking to him about something. He looked at the paper again and a big smile crawled across his face.
At the same time, Adora frantically explained to him that the Sorceress had contacted her and wanted them both at Grayskull immediately, that Eternia was in danger from a threat greater than Skeletor and that they had to act quickly.
They looked at each other and at the same time yelled:
"We've got to get to Grayskull!"