Author's Notes: I apologize for the long absence. I recently- and finally- found a job, and it's taken up a great deal of my time. Not to fear, though: I've finally mastered the art of writing and riding the Metro at the same time, so the updates should be a bit more frequent now.

As always, comments are greatly appreciated.

Chapter Seven

Prince Adam had long anticipated the day of his sixteenth birthday, when he would be considered an adult by Eternian law. He had spent the past year imagining what the day would bring: a celebration, most likely followed by a speech from his father confirming Adam as the heir to the throne. Adam had yet to determine why his father felt the need to state the blatantly obvious. Of course he was Randor's heir. Who else would be?

Adam had a fairly active imagination about most things, and the matter of his birthday was certainly no exception. On Eternia, a person's passage into adulthood was regarded as an almost sacred event. Childhood was over, and a world of possibilities was just beginning. Adam envisioned a great many wonderful scenarios; his favorite was the one where he finally found the courage to ask Teela for a dance, or a stroll through the gardens, or some such thing.

Of all the things Adam imagined, not one involved standing in the throne room of Castle Grayskull. Yet there he was, trying not to squirm under the scrutinizing gaze of Eternia's most powerful enchantress. Adam was not scared, exactly. After all, his father had visited with the Sorceress on occasion, and always emerged unscathed. Adam knew that Randor held the Sorceress in high regard, as did Duncan.

Adam stole a glance at his mentor, searching for some clue as to why the older man had brought him to this place. Duncan had told him next to nothing on the journey there. Now his face was devoid of all emotion, his gaze intent upon their hostess.

The prince looked back at the throne and at the woman who had summoned them. Her costume, a short tunic of white feathers and a headdress that mimicked the face of a falcon, struck Adam as odd. He wondered what the connection was between this woman and the bird she was obviously meant to resemble.

"Prince Adam." The Sorceress finally spoke, breaking the solemn silence.

Adam was not entirely sure how to respond. How was one to address the guardian of all things mystical? One thing was certain: the Sorceress was a queen in her own right, and should be treated as such.

"My lady," he said, and bowed deeply. He stared at the floor while the Sorceress rose from her throne and came to stand before him. She studied him for a moment before placing cool fingers under his chin and gently guiding his gaze to her face.

"I have long awaited this day," she murmured softly.

Adam could not help but stare back at her, confused. What day? The day he turned sixteen? The day he came to Grayskull?

"Both." The Sorceress said suddenly.

Adam's eyes widened. Had the woman just read his mind?

"I have awaited both days," the Sorceress continued, "because they are one and the same, as they were meant to be. You were destined to come here on the day you became an adult, and you were destined to become an adult on the day you came here. And, yes," she smiled faintly, "I do possess psychic abilities."

Adam gulped. He would like to have looked away at that point, but found himself unable to do so. Instead, he stood still as stone while the Sorceress continued to speak.

"I have heard many good things about you, Prince Adam, and I see now that they are all true. Your mother would be very proud. I know your father is."

"You knew my mother?" Adam asked, curiosity momentarily overcoming his nervousness. He thought he saw something like sadness flash across the Sorceress's face as she answered simply,

"Yes."

"And my father talks about me?"

"All the time. He tells me that you are kind, and intelligent, and brave."

"My father thinks I am brave?"

"Oh, yes," the Sorceress smiled briefly, then frowned, "Although he might not think so for much longer."

"Why is that, my lady?" Adam asked, his trepidation renewed.

"Do you know why you have been brought here, Adam?"

"No, my lady," Adam answered with a sideways glance at Duncan, "Man-at-Arms has told me nothing."

"My thanks, Duncan," the Sorceress said. Duncan nodded, but said nothing. The Sorceress turned back to Adam; her eyes narrowed and she regarded her young guest for a moment before asking,

"Do you believe in destiny, Adam?"

"Of course, my lady." The prince answered immediately. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Believing in destiny is one thing, Adam," the Sorceress murmured, "Accepting one's own is something else entirely. Do you understand?"

"I… I think so, my lady."

"And are you ready to follow your destiny, young prince?"

Adam looked into the face of the enchantress, trying to see past the impassive mask. He wondered how long she had been the keeper of this castle, and how many people she had summoned to the ancient chambers. What had her purpose been in those cases? What were her intentions now? She was, Adam realized, a woman who could change lives. How did she mean to change his?

Next Adam looked at Duncan. The older man met his gaze, unafraid and unashamed. He had been Adam's mentor for as long as the prince could remember, teaching him everything there was to know about life. Now that Adam thought about it, it seemed as if Duncan had gone out of his way to mentor him. Why was that? Certainly there were tutors aplenty at the palace, and it was not as if Duncan did not have a child of his own. Had Adam and Teela been raised together, almost as brother and sister, so that Duncan could have easy access to Adam? How long had it been planned, this meeting between Adam and the Sorceress?

Adam looked out the window, at the sky, as if the answers to his questions lay just beyond the setting sun. Yet they did not, and he knew it. The answer to everything- even to questions Adam had yet to ask himself- lay in these ruins, perhaps in this very room. He thought about what the Sorceress had told him so far, and about how Randor thought he was brave. Was he brave enough to learn the answers to his questions? Was he brave enough to learn his destiny?

"Yes," Adam whispered, his voice voluminous in the silent room. He felt eyes on him, and turned to find both the Sorceress and Duncan watching him, waiting. He took a deep breath and looked straight at the Sorceress.

"Yes, my lady." His voice was so strong, so confident, that he wondered how it could possibly be his own. "I am ready."

The Sorceress nodded, squared her feathered shoulders, and turned from them both.

"Come, Prince Adam," she said as she strode toward the door, "It is time to set foot on the path of your destiny."

Adora hurried down the hall, forehead creased in consternation. She could not imagine why Hordak wanted to see her, but she knew that he hated to be kept waiting; so she had set off for his chambers immediately after receiving the summons, even though it meant abandoning a training session. She hoped that Hordak's messenger would explain the situation to General Morden.

The throne room door loomed just ahead, and Adora all but ran toward it, cursing herself even as she quickened her pace. She hated how frantic she must look to the other Horde members she passed, even though most were robot troopers. She finally reached the door, where she took several deep breaths before knocking three times. Less than a second passed before the door was opened from within. Adora squared her shoulders and stepped inside.

Hordak's throne room, like all living and meeting quarters in the Fright Zone, was constructed of solid black marble. A ribbon of blood red carpet ran from the doorway to the dais, stopping at the foot of Hordak's ebony throne. Torches along the walls provided the only light in the room; there were no windows, and the door always remained closed. It was, Adora often thought, like another world, one she had only entered once or twice before; and nervous though she was, Adora felt a sense of pride at being allowed to enter Hordak's private sanctum.

Hordak himself sat regally on his throne, crimson eyes intent on Adora. Shadow Weaver stood beside him, and Adora suppressed a shudder. Something about the enchantress had always frightened her… Another woman stood at the bottom of the dais. She was staring at a point across the room when Adora entered, but now she looked at the younger woman and smiled faintly. Adora recognized her instantly and frowned. Why was Lena here?

Adora's stomach twisted, and she fairly flushed with guilt. She was often ashamed of how she had treated her former caregiver, and knew she should apologize. Lena had, after all, only spoken the truth when she said that Adora's mother was dead- certainly she remained absent in all save Adora's dreams. Even when Adora left all other childish things behind, the memory of her mother's voice lingered, refreshing her like an errant breeze on a hot summer's day. To admit aloud the truth of Lena's words would be to leave that voice behind, and Adora did not know if she was strong enough to do that.

This, she knew, was why she had gone out of her way to avoid Lena. The few times they did cross paths left Adora reeling from the memory of the weakness she had displayed in front of the other woman. Even now, three years after the fact, Adora felt almost queasy with shame and self-loathing. She stole a glance at Lena and found that the woman was staring intently back at her. Their eyes met, and Lena smiled gently. Adora felt herself beginning to smile back. Was it possible that Lena forgave her, or that (even better!) she had simply forgotten the incident?

"Adora, my dear," Hordak snorted, "Welcome."

Adora tore her gaze from Lena and bowed deeply.

"Lord Hordak," she murmured to the floor, "I am at your service."

"Arise, my dear."

Adora obeyed, and Hordak stood and descended the dais, coming to stand before her. Adora thought she heard Lena draw a sharp breath, but did not dare look toward her. Instead, she lowered her gaze respectfully to the floor.

"I understand that today is your birthday." Hordak said.

"Yes, my lord."

"Sixteen years old," Shadow Weaver rasped, "Quite the young lady."

"Yes," Hordak agreed, "Quite."

He gave his chin several thoughtful strokes before speaking again.

"I have a gift for you."

Adora looked up at him, surprised. Though Hordak had always been kind to her, he had never before presented her with a gift. He smiled at her, showing small, white teeth.

"Well? Don't you want to know what it is?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I wish I could show it to you, but it is not here." He looked at Adora expectantly, clearly waiting for a response.

"Where might I find it?" she asked carefully.

"In the stables, waiting to meet his new owner."

Adora's eyes narrowed, then widened as she gasped in surprise and delight,

"A horse? You got me a horse?"

Hordak nodded and snorted, obviously pleased by her response.

"Thank you so much… I mean," here Adora stopped, aware that she was dangerously close to babbling like an idiot. She took a calming breath and murmured, "My lord is too kind."

"Do not think of it as just a kindness, my dear. After all," he paused, and Adora thought she saw his eyes glow more brightly in their sockets, "a force captain needs a good steed."

"A force captain?" Adora repeated, confused. "But, I'm not…" Then the full meaning of Hordak's words hit her, and she barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping.

"Yes, my dear." Hordak said. "And it might interest you to know that you will be the youngest Force Captain in the history of the Horde… if you think you are ready to be."

Adora recognized the look of scrutiny on his face and understood that she must take care with her response. She knew that many a Horde recruit had ruined their chances for advancement by appearing either too hesitant or too proud before Hordak. When she finally spoke, she was careful to keep the joy and pride she felt from coloring her words.

"If my lord Hordak feels that this is my destiny, then so it must be,"

This time she was sure she heard Lena gasp, but did not have a chance to look at her before Hordak caught her in an embrace.

"Oh, Adora," he breathed into her ear, "You do not know how it gladdens my heart to hear you say those words." He released her and turned to his enchantress. "Shadow Weaver, make the necessary preparations."

Adora looked over at Lena, who smiled and mouthed the word, "Congratulations." The smile was shaky, but Adora could hardly blame her. She probably expected a repeat performance from three years ago. Instead, Adora smiled back, her mind churning with an appealing idea. A simple, two-word apology seemed so inadequate for what she had done. Had not Lena herself once said that actions speak louder than words? What if Adora could somehow make Lena part of the most important day of her life?

"My lord." Adora realized only after the words left her mouth that she had just interrupted a conversation between Hordak and Shadow Weaver. She cringed and waited for the inevitable rebuke. She was surprised when Hordak merely turned to her and smiled.

"Yes?"

"When will the ceremony be held?"

"Why, tonight, my dear. Five hours from now."

"May I make a request of my liege?"

"Of course."

"I know that it is customary that only Horde soldiers attend the ceremony, but I wondered if perhaps an exception might be made."

"That depends. Who is it you wish to invite?"

"Lena." Adora answered simply.

Hordak frowned for a moment, clearly unfamiliar with the name. Then he followed Adora's gaze, and his eyes narrowed.

"Why should you wish to have the physician's assistant at your induction?"

"Forgive me, Lord Hordak. It is only that…well…Lena once cared for me as a mother, and I wished only to repay her kindness by allowing her to be present at the happiest event of my life."

Hordak regarded them both for a long moment; then his lips curled in an enigmatic smile, and he snorted loudly.

"So you wish this woman to be there when you pledge your undying allegiance to the Horde?"

"Yes, my lord."

This must have been the right response, for Hordak laughed aloud and said,

"Why, I can think of nothing that would please me more. Of course- Lena, is it? - may join us tonight."

"Thank you, my lord." Adora breathed. She then turned to Lena and asked, anxiously, "You will come, won't you?"

"Oh, my child." The woman whispered and closed her eyes, obviously overcome by emotion. Only after taking several shaky breaths did she open her eyes and look at Adora. "Of course I'll come."

Adora almost embraced her then, but decided that Hordak might consider that sort of behavior inappropriate for a soon-to-be force captain. Instead, she smiled demurely and murmured,

"Thank you, Lena."

The other woman nodded. She shifted and took a step toward Adora, reaching out as if she meant to take the girl's hands into her own. Hordak cleared his throat then, and something like fear flashed across Lena's face; her hands dropped back down to her sides and clenched into fists.

"I think it is time you returned to your training, my dear." Hordak said.

"Of course, my lord." Adora responded. She turned back to him and bowed, then looked to Shadow Weaver and inclined her head. She then looked at Lena and said, "May I accompany you as far as the infirmary?"

Adora thought she saw Lena's eyes light up, but the light dimmed when Hordak said,

"I have further business with this woman, my dear."

"Oh. Yes. Of course."

"It's alright, Adora," Lena murmured gently, "I'll see you tonight."

Adora nodded, made her bows again, and strode from the room. The door closed behind her, as if by magic. She looked back and gasped, for it seemed to her as if the blood bat glowed even brighter than before. An omen, she thought, and smiled to herself. She placed her slender fingers on the decoration, closed her eyes, and whispered,

"My destiny."

Adam stared down at the sword in his hands, transfixed. He had never taken much interest in weaponry- one sword was as good as another, in his opinion- but even he knew that this blade was superior to any other. It should be, having been forged by the Ancients themselves.

For me, Adam thought. It was forged for me.

He knew, from what the Sorceress had just finished telling him, that that was not exactly true. There had been one before him who had wielded the sword and saved the world. Still, it was uncanny how natural the sword felt in Adam's hands. His fingers curled around the hilt as smoothly and gracefully as if he had been born holding it. The sword had already been glowing when the Sorceress showed it to him; now that it was actually in his hands, it shone even more brightly, and Adam felt a faint wave of heat splash over his fingers.

He sensed that Duncan and the Sorceress were watching him, waiting to see what he would do. One part of him wanted to drop the sword and run from the castle, while the other part ached to fulfill his destiny. Except that it was not just his destiny- the fate of an entire planet hinged on what he did with the sword. That part of the Sorceress's revelation still puzzled him. Eternia was at peace, and had been for sixteen years. What did the Sorceress know that compelled her to summon him?

Skeletor.

Adam's head snapped up. He looked at the Sorceress and saw that she had suddenly grown pale. He knew then that she, too, had heard the whisper. Duncan narrowed his eyes at them both, clearly perplexed by the distressed looks on their faces. The Sorceress sighed heavily and said,

"I thought as much."

"What is this… this 'skeletor'?" Adam asked.

"Not 'what,' Adam," The Sorceress said, "Skeletor is a being, and a dangerous one, at that. He is the greatest threat Eterniawill ever know. He is the reason I sent for you."

"If he's such a danger, then where is he?" Adam demanded.

"He is… coming," the Sorceress whispered intensely, eyes closed tightly as if in pain, "He will be here very soon."

"What does he want?"

"To rule Eternia."

"But… but my father rules Eternia!"

The Sorceress opened her eyes and looked straight into Adam's. At that moment, Adam understood everything; and he remembered asking his father once if the bad men might one day kill him, and how Randor had said that he did not plan on dying anytime soon. Up until an hour ago, Adam was satisfied with that answer. Now he was forced to cast aside the well-intentioned lies of childhood and burden himself with the truth: the bad men would come, and they would kill his father- and millions more- unless Adam stopped them. Unless he followed his destiny.

"What do I do?" he asked the Sorceress. "What do I say?"

"Raise the sword." The enchantress said. "All you need do is raise the sword."

Adam gripped the hilt tightly and lifted the blade into the air, over his head. He stood like that for several seconds; just as he was beginning to wonder if anything was going to happen, a voice whispered in his ear. He smiled grimly- the same voice that had named the threat against the planet was now telling him how to stop it.

Adam stood straight and tall, assumed the wide legged stance of the warrior, and began to chant.

"By the power of Grayskull…"

Adora was just beginning to fidget when General Morden and Shadow Weaver entered the barracks.

"It is time." Shadow Weaver announced.

Adora walked between them to the auditorium, where Shadow Weaver waved her fingers at the closed door. It creaked slowly open, and the trio entered a room filled with people. Adora had been to many inductions over the years, and she could not remember this many people ever attending. She did not recognize anyone from her unit. She did not recognize anyone at all, in fact, until she reached the very bottom of the seating area. There, sitting on the end of the first row, was Lena.

When Adora saw her, she stopped walking and turned. Shadow Weaver and General Morden stopped, too, and it seemed as if the entire arena was watching her.

"You came." She said softly.

"Yes."

"I have to ask you something."

"Now?"

"Yes," Adora nodded solemnly, "Something about my mother."

"Adora…"

"Would she be proud of me?" Adora said in a rush.

"What!"

"I have to know, Lena. Do you think my mother would be proud of me?"

Lena stared at her for a long moment. Then she did something that Adora could not remember her ever doing before: she leaned forward and kissed Adora tenderly on the forehead. Afterward, she dropped her head close to Adora's shoulder, and Adora thought she might whisper in her ear. Instead, Lena straightened, took Adora's hands, and said,

"I know she would be."

She held Adora's hands for a second more, gently stroking her fingers, before releasing them and whispering,

"Hordak is waiting for you."

Adora nodded, inclined her head in a show of respect, and turned and continued walking down to the field. Hordak was indeed waiting, but he did not seem displeased. In fact, he looked happier than Adora had ever seen him before. The smile playing across his lips was one of triumph, as if he had just won a great battle.

"Ah. My dear," he whispered when Adora was standing before him. He was seated on a throne in the middle of the stage, and he rose as Adora made her bow. He looked out at the crowd and shouted, "My soldiers! I have commanded your presence so that you might bear witness to the pledge this woman makes today!"

"Are you ready, my dear?" he asked in a low tone.

"Yes, my lord," Adora answered.

"Then kneel before me…"

Adora sank gracefully to the ground, placed her hands on her thighs, and looked adoringly up at Hordak.

"And repeat after me…"

Adora's voice echoed in the silent auditorium as she repeated the Horde pledge:

"I have no mother. I have no father. I will live for the Horde. I will die for the Horde…"