Chapter Twenty

Marlena stumbled through the darkness, guided only by the warm hand clasping her own.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." Randor's voice was low and reassuring. "You used to like surprises."

"I still do."

"Then trust me, and keep your eyes closed."

"For how much longer?"

"We're almost there, my love." His hand pulled gently at hers, urging her forward. "Just a few more steps….okay, stop here." She heard a door open, and then another hand pressed against her back. "Step inside…that's right…just a few more steps… alright, stop. Now open your eyes."

Marlena found herself standing in the largest of the palace meeting rooms. A large balcony was attached to the room, and the light of the two moons cast a romantic sheen over the space. She looked at Randor, who was smiling secretively. He nodded to the center of the room, where two chairs sat facing the front wall. He laced his fingers through hers and led his wife to the chairs.

"Sit here, please."

She took the chair to his right, noticing as she did that a large, black hoop sat in the other chair. Randor picked up the device and sat down. He removed his crown, set it on the floor by his feet, and replaced it with the black device.

"This" he tapped the ebony band that rested atop his dark hair "is called a memory projector. It's one of Duncan's inventions."

"What does it do?"

"Sit back and I'll show you."

She obeyed, but continued to watch his face. He looked forward.

"Look ahead," he murmured, and closed his eyes.

Several seconds passed, and then an image splashed before Marlena's eyes: an infant lying in a crib, wrapped in a blue blanket and cooing happily. The queen recognized him immediately.

"Adam."

The image held for almost a minute before fading into another. This time, the prince was a few months older and lying on the floor of the nursery. As Marlena watched, he rolled unsteadily onto his back. He laughed, clearly delighted, and returned back to his stomach. Marlena could hear her husband's laughter in the background; then a younger Randor joined his son on the floor so that father and child were looking each other in the eyes. The king rolled over, robes flying, and came to rest facedown. Adam squealed with glee, pounded the floor lightly with his little baby fists, and mimicked his father. The two males rolled almost to the other side of the nursery before Randor, lying on his back, lifted Adam up and over his broad chest. The child wriggled in excitement. Randor brought him down to his chest, where Adam immediately took the gold medallion the king wore and put as much of it as possible into his mouth. Randor laughed. He pulled the medallion away, took a pacifier from the pocket of his robe, and deftly placed it in Adam's mouth before the baby could protest. The child laid his head on his father's chest, sucking contentedly on the pacifier as his eyes closed.

By now Marlena had figured out what she was seeing: Randor's memories of their son, made visible. She gripped her husband's hand. "Thank you," she whispered, never taking her eyes from the image.

Randor raised her hand to his lip and kissed her knuckles. "There's more," he said, eyes still closed.

And more there was. For almost an hour memories shimmered in the moon-lit room. There were all of Adam's 'firsts': his first word ("Daddy"); his first step, taken in the garden; his first birthday, where he tried to push his entire hand into the cake; his first tooth, which he tried to move with his tongue. There were images of Adam and Teela playing in the garden, the throne room, the city square, and their respective bedrooms. Next came the school years: Adam with his head bent over a book, or thoughtfully chewing on a pen. There was Adam at what looked to be ten years old, holding a small, green tiger cub to his chest. Now here he was, looking slightly older and grinning at a floating, red-robed being with a giant 'O' on his chest.

Marlena watched as her son quite literally grew up before her eyes. The sounds of his childhood and adolescence washed over her. She laughed at his antics, smiled as he repeatedly demonstrated his intelligence and compassion. Tears of both delight and sorrow spilled down her cheeks, and she was weeping openly when Randor finally cleared his mind and opened his eyes. The king removed the projection device, rose from his chair, and knelt before his wife. She sank down to the floor, into his arms, and released as much of her anguish as possible. There was nothing silent about her grief this time; she sobbed loudly, almost hysterically, for she knew not how long. When she finally pulled back and looked up, she saw that Randor had also been crying. They wiped each other's tears away, then stood and gazed at one another.

"Thank you." Marlena said again. "You cannot imagine how much this means to me."

"It was the least I could do. You missed so much, all because of me."

"Because of you?"

"All these years, Marlena, I could not help but think how things could have been so very different for us all." He gripped her hands tightly, rubbing her wedding band with his thumb. He took several ragged breaths before continuing. "What if I had been there when they invaded the nursery? What if I could have defeated the Horde sooner? What if I had ordered more guards, gotten you and the children somewhere safer, come back to you as soon as the Horde armies fell? What if-"

Marlena tilted her face to his and silenced him with a kiss. "What if I had been quicker?" She murmured into his ear. "What if I had escaped Skeletor's grasp two seconds sooner than I did? What if I had given birth after the war? What if the stars had aligned themselves in such a way that none of this would have ever happened?" She leaned back and smiled sadly. "'What if' is a fool's game to play, Randor. It does not change anything, and it only makes us feel more wretched inside." He started to speak, but closed his mouth at the determined look in her eyes. "Blaming ourselves for the past will not allow us to live in the present or hope for the future. We are not to blame for what happened, Randor. They are- Hordak and his kind."

Randor nodded. It was difficult not to see the logic in Marlena's words, and he was so tired of bearing the burden of guilt and shame. Marlena drew him into her arms, guiding his head to her slender shoulder and holding him the way a mother might hold an exhausted child. "I don't blame you." She reassured him. "I never did."

The queen held her king for a long time. "I could use the projector to show you Adora's childhood," she said after awhile, "I only really saw seven years of it, but-"

Randor lifted his head and looked deep into her eyes. "Show me."

So she did. He saw Adora say her first word, take her first step, grin widely to show her first tooth. His little girl splashed in a bathtub, bounced on a cot, raced down long, black corridors. She sat patiently while Marlena brushed and braided her hair. She whirled and twirled around a small room, laughing as the skirt of a long, red dress moved with her. The look on Marlena's face when the last image faded was one of incredible love mingled with unbearable sorrow.

"What happened then?" Randor asked gently.

"She saw something she was not supposed to see, and they placed a spell on her, bending her to their will." Marlena opened her eyes and looked at him. "I could not save her. I tried, but I failed."

Randor had already surmised that much. He leaned over, laced his fingers through hers, and said, "What happened to you?"

Marlena bit her lower lip and sighed. She ached to share her experience with Randor, but she had to be sure of one thing before she did.

"If I tell you, will you blame yourself?"

He shook his head, then reached over and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Tell me."

A silence the length of some lives passed. Then slowly, haltingly, Marlena began to speak.