A Note from the Author:
Black Lives Matter, now and always.
If you plan to go outside, please stay safe and remember to practice virus safety as much as you can.
'We must be strong,
We must be brave,
We have the power.'
Shadow Weaver did not need light to see by anymore, but as she pulled herself from the gauzy half-coma the alignment left her in, even she found the room too dark for her liking. The Black Garnet glowed a dim, blackish-pink as it slowly began to refill itself with power from the planet's core. It would be days before it returned to a quarter of its normal strength
"Oh," the rasp of her own voice startled her, "oh, I am quite tired after that." She felt herself sliding back into soft, inviting oblivion of sleep when a jagged edge bit into her palm. She sat up, head spinning and pounding all at once, and held out her sliver of runestone in one hand. Her eyes stared back at her from the shard a soft white beneath a steadily blinking red.
"Ahhhh," she breathed as she saw the jewel in her mask throbbing, "but I still have work to do." She rose to her full height, brushing strands of limp hair out of her face. The inside of her mask was suffocating and she felt along the Black Garnet like a blind woman until she stumbled into her scrying basin.
She scoffed at herself when, after slipping her mask off, her exhausted fingers let it tumble to the floor. She had no spare energy to retrieve it. Her hand dipped into cool water and laddled it up to her face, feeling it snake down her scarring and wet her shrunken lips. The relief was small and fleeting.
"The Spell of Obtainment," she muttered to herself as she collected her thoughts, "an exchange. Something for something. But with this power." She found her strength and raised her right hand, the shard held like a dagger. "I need only take what I want."
Facing the Black Garnet, Shadow Weaver stabbed forward and laughed triumphantly when the edge caught on empty air. The resistance she met was unlike anything physical, more like a magnet repelling its own pole. Her gem flared and the stolen power of the alignment flooded through her body.
"More," she said, "not enough. Come to me. Give me your strength, I command you!" From every corner of the Fright Zone red-eyed shadows raced to their mistress and threw themselves screaming into her. Their small, twisted lives winked out one-by-one to feed the growing furnace that was Shadow Weaver.
The shard pressed and began to drag a line down through the air, defined by the dim light of the Black Garnet beyond it.
Like cutting sail-cloth with a paper knife, she thought.
"Can you see this, Norwyn," she said, pressing both hands onto the blade, feeling the edges sinking into her palms, "is your ghost still there, behind my shoulder? Waiting to teach me the folly of this act? 'Limitations wake us from the dark dream of power." She laughed, sheer mad joy piercing her voice. "Behold, teacher, a dark dream made real!" She pulled downwards with the dual strength of runestone and dark, unnamable powers.
A long tear opened into the space beyond the dimensions.
If she could've dug through the bottom of the blackest sea and found a cave that had never known light, Shadow Weaver knew that place would still be like an open field at daybreak compared to darkness she looked on now. In her hands the shard of the Black Garnet splintered into a trillion microscopic pieces, eroded away by the touch of otherworldly shadows.
The darkness felt her and she felt it. She reached out with her mind and tugged at it.
"It's alright," she said, like a mother soothing a frightened baby, "its alright, dear little thing. Come here. Let me see you." The line of darkness expanded against the Black Garnet, becoming a shape as nebulous and billowing as a figure in a midnight-black cloak.
Then, as if the runestone behind it were burning through, two circles of red light appeared at level with Shadow Weaver's eyes. They grew, then deepened, and at last burned a neon-red. Two pinpricks of that impossible darkness it emerged from slid around in the middle like pupils. It took in its new world with rapid, scared glances.
"Shhhhh," Shadow Weaver's hands rose up to either side of its form, beneath its eyes, slim trickles of blood dripping from either palm, "shhhh. Do not be scared, my child, I am here for you. I am Shadow Weaver and I am everything you have."
The eyes floated forwards and the dark shape of the body followed afterwards, pressing against her in an embrace like a deep, bone-freezing chill. Her hands carded through roiling shadows and soothed the mind that, in essence, was also the ghostly body of the creature.
"You are very special, child," she whispered, "I can state with confidence you are utterly unique. And you are mine. My dearest thing. Look at how beautiful, how perfect you are. Mind and shadow and fear. I am so proud of you." She felt the deep connection form between them, summoner and summoned. Artist and artwork.
"Dreamer," she said, "and Dark Dream." She passed on the memories of Adora that never left her mind and all the knowledge of her new powers. The Dark Dream absorbed it all like it had always known and began to feel across the room as it understood its place and purpose in the world.
"Find Adora," Shadow Weaver said, suddenly drained, "find my Adora and bring her home."
She slumped forward against the water basin and fell to the ground, staring up at the red eyes overhead. Dark Dream expanded like a great vulture spreading its wings. She groped around and felt her fingertips brush red heartwood in the shape of a face. She donned her mask.
"As for the others," her voice returned to her, "flay their minds. Expose their deepest fears and leave them paralyzed. That is what you are, Dark Dream. That is why I made you." The red eyes glittered eagerly and then vanished. It had, in an instance, found a slim hole in the steel walls and squirmed its shifting body out like an octopus.
"Adora," Shadow Weaver sighed, "the things I do for you." She thought of the little girl staring with wonder at every page of her Primer. Such potential. Such possibility. "But it is worth it, my Adora. It is worth it in the end. I'll make sure of that." She collapsed back into an empty, dreamless sleep.
Catra curled up on the concrete of Horde Square, the sword's cold metal freezing on her bare shoulders, and cupped her nose in both hands. Her palms sealed against her nostrils, waiting for the gush of blood that had to be coming after that. Her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth ground together against a long moan of pain. She yelled to keep from whimpering.
"You," she winced at the high, nasally tone of her voice, "little…arrrrgh!" There was a grunt of effort from the child and she felt the sword shifting underneath of her back. The hilt-end rose a few inches off the ground. A scratchy, dry little voice babbled rapidly.
"B-by the Power of Gray-" she could guess how the phrase would end and acted quickly.
"No!" Catra shoved her heels against the boy's shoulders and felt the sword rip free of his grip. She rolled over, wrenched her eyes open and crouched over the handle. The kid stumbled backwards with a gasp, barely keeping on his feet as he held his hands up like claws.
"Grrrrr!" The sound he produced struck Catra with confusion rather than terror. He sounded parched. She rubbed her forearm under her nose and was happy to find that, whatever else was happening, her nose wasn't bleeding.
"I know how this works," she snarled, "so just forget about turning back into She-Ra or whatever that big guy was!"
"Hssssss!" The boy scurried backwards almost a yard, bare feet slapping on the concrete, and bared his teeth. Catra's night-vision showed her the tiny body a few feet away. She found him to be rather puny, with arms and legs like sticks poking out of his bulky tunic. She had at least a foot or more on him.
"This is so weird," she muttered, "now tell me. What's your magic words? They're different than hers, aren't they?" She glanced away from him and over at Scropia, still out cold nearby. Catra turned a smirk on the boy. "Same results though, looks like. So, booger, what are they? And who are you anyway? What's your name?"
The boy growled again, a low crackly noise. Catra crooked one clawed finger at him and stared into the shadows of his hood.
"Come here," she said frowning when she wasn't obeyed, "don't make me come over there and get you, kid. Come here!" She jabbed her finger at the ground in front of her.
"Hsssss," the boy replied. Catra stalked forward on her hands and knees, keeping level with his face, constantly aware of the sword's position behind her. She let a growl rumble up from her throat, smirking at the little whimper she heard in response.
"Word of advice," she said softly, wiggling her ears, "that doesn't work on someone who knows you're just trying to be scary. I can hear the bones on that tunic of yours rattling. Now mellow out!" She crept closer. "Just... come here and don't make me angry. I wanna see something."
"Ah," the boy jumped backwards and darted past her side, rushing to get to the sword. Catra sheathed her claws and snatched her fingers around his tiny bicep, holding him in place. She looked over the spot where Scorpia's stinger had, on the warrior, struck its potent blow.
"Not a scratch on you," Catra said, "that's-"
His free hand punched her in the forehead and he yelped in pain. She grabbed his other wrist and looked over his knuckles. There was a bruise from her mask. She grinned.
"…that's very interesting." She rolled her eyes as the boy tried to throw himself backwards and ended up sliding onto his back. "You really don't get it do you, d-oooff!" One of his feet planted itself in her unprotected stomach. She locked her fingers tight on his arms and pulled him to his feet. "Stop. It." She shook him. "Right now!"
The boy wouldn't stop squirming and her patience was wearing to the thinnest thread. Her nose twitched and she felt a pang of nausea.
"Yuck," she grimaced, "you really stink! Where'd you come from?" The boy didn't appear to hear her question.
"Rrrrrgh! No! Ah!" He kicked out and flexed his arms against her hands. She considered her option and suddenly released him. He barked in surprise as he staggered backwards and fell onto his rear. His head whipped back and his hood slipped from his head.
Catra leaned forward to get a good look at his face and felt her heart stop when he looked her in the eyes.
"Found you! Found you! I finally found Catra!" The ten-year-old sang, jumping up and down triumphantly, blonde ponytail wagging like the tail of an excited puppy.
"Only cuz I let you, Adora," Catra grumbled, "you're such a baby you'd probably start crying if I hid too well." Adora's eyes looked especially blue in the darkness of the broom closet she'd been hiding in. Big and wide in her little round face.
"You're…" Catra shook her head, she was seeing things, "you're…uuh… a little mess, huh?" His hair was almost black with grime and his face was thinner than Adora's had been at his age. They look nothing alike. Same kind-of eye color, that's all. Her distraction cost her.
"Rawr!" His tunic's bristly fur scraped on her clothing as he slammed into her not doing any damage but knocking her clear from his sword..
He dove forward into the space she left and wrapped his hands around the hilt.
"By the Power Of Grayskull!"
Catra somersaulted backwards to safety, claws popping out and legs tensing to spring. The boy had a nervous, uncertain look in his eyes that almost gave her pause. He seemed like he was almost reluctant to engage in combat. Almost.
They both poised to fight, waiting for the transformation.
And waiting.
Waiting.
Catra slowly relaxed her stance, rising to her full height.
"By the Power of the Grayskull!" The boy's oddly toned voice bounced around the empty square, its desperation echoing several times before fading away. Catra braced again, but with less caution.
Nothing. No light. No heat. No magic pouring down from the sky.
"B-by the p-power of Grayskull," the boy said. His cornflower-blue eyes started growing wider and Catra heard the bones on his tunic start clicking rapidly against each other as he trembled. "By the power of Grayskull!"
Catra took a step forward. The boy squeaked and backed away, draggin the sword across the concrete with an ear-splitting scrape.
"By…by the Power," he huffed, "of Grayskull!" He swallowed audibly when Catra answered with a little snicker.
Catra crossed her arms and walked forward slowly. She became aware of all the aches and pains in her body that the little boy had inflicted on her. She thought of the desperate, humiliating pleas for mercy that had passed her proud lips. She thought about how scared she'd been a few short minutes ago, when the warrior had seemed unstoppable.
"Aww. What's wrong," she cooed, "sword not working? Real shame. Guess you regret shooting your mouth off, huh?"
"By…by the power of Grayskull?" The boy's voice shrank to whimper as he retreated another few steps. Catra closed the distance, cocking her hip lazily, bare toes an inch from the tip of the long blade. "B-by…"the boy mumbled, eyes shivering as they looked at her, "the-the-the Power…of…by the Power of…." His voice cut off in a sharp, shaky gasp.
"You tried to kill me," Catra's grin betrayed the tone of her voice, which was dead and furious, "that wasn't very nice. How do you like being helpless, kid? I could do whatever I want and you couldn't stop me." She walked forward onto the blade, her weight pulling it from the boy's slack grip. He shrieked and yanked his hood down over his face.
Far and away, in a guest room of the Crypto Castle, Adora tossed and turned in her sleep. Catra was haunting her dreams again and Adora seemed to have shrunk two feet. She pulled a heavy cloth over her face but couldn't block out Catra's stabbing words.
"Not so tough without your magic, huh? Poor thing. Yea. You look a little 'weak' to me," Catra lunged forward by inches and spat in her face, "weak!" Adora jumped when she yelled. "Look at me. Right now!"
"Nooooo," she moaned in her sleep, "Catra, please…." A golden thread shimmered before her eyes.
The Dark Dream ruled the night sky and all the sleepers below it, its subjects in a kingdom of nightmares, groaned in their sweat-soaked beds. Every dream soured and turned rotten as the barest fringes of its essence caressed them. Dark Dream found itself relishing this new world and the many tastes of fear it could savor.
Below, invisible to all but magical beings, a golden thread blinked over the horizon. It dripped with fear and Dark Dream was drawn to it like a fly to honey. It hissed with delight when it supped on the terror and found its quarry. Adora. Little Adora. It spun in place growing from a small, flea-sized shadow until it was like a second night sky. It flew back towards its birthplace following the thread of fear down into the Fright Zone.
Catra crouched down, a growl building in her throat at the indignity of it all. A crybaby, just like Adora. Nothing without special swords or magic words. She grabbed the front of his tunic.
"No!" He chirped. He grabbed at her wrist but wasn't strong enough to move her. His nails were blunt and bitten down, posing no threat to her skin.
"Look at me," she snapped, ripping back his hood, "look me in the face! Look at me when I'm-"
He cracked open one blue eye, wet with tears.
"Look at me," Shadow Weaver's voice slid from the darkness, "look at me, you little animal, when I'm speaking to you!" Catra focused on the reflection beyond the impossibly tall figure over her. Her blue eye shined in the metal of the barracks ceiling.
Please go away, she thought, please-please-please just leave me alone! She couldn't even remember what she'd done to get in trouble. She was too scared.
The boy's open eye twitched and his hands left her wrist to fumble with the fangs on his tunic in a cloying, frantic way. Catra's fist unclenched around the animal hide, her claws catching a little as she drew back. She felt her stomach tightening, probably from the kick she took earlier.
With careful, slow movements she drew the hood back up over his head. The boy's fingers slowed as they toyed with the fangs and his breathing became a little softer as he stared at her.
"You're lucky," she mumbled, exhaustion roughening her voice as she backed away, "you're so lucky it was me and not anybody else. You don't know how lucky you are."
The boy opened his mouth to speak, but security alarms drowned him out as light flooded the square. Catra snarled, clutching at her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
Floodlights, emergency lights, and lampposts came back from the dead all at once. The stump of the severed lamppost shot up a few, sparks like spurts of blood. Red lights spun atop the four sealed doors on each side of Horde Square. They opened with a quartet drone of metal.
Four detachments of Horde Troopers came pouring in like so many black ants. Catra's senses came under assault.
"Clear high! Clear high! Sky's empty," someone yelled, "Air-Master do not scramble, repeat do not scramble. Air-space is clear. Hotel Sierra's airspace is clear."
"Friendlies in the open," another voice cried through a static filter, "trooper down! Medic to the front-line!"
"Medic to the front-line! Sully, move you stupid post. Doc! Doc, get up front!"
"Spread-out," a sergeant roared, "spread-out. We gossiping about our crushes here, people? Why am I seeing you all bunched up? Spread-out. Circle-up."
"Ok," a woman huffed by Scorpia's side, "pulse is good. Force Captain, can you hear me, ma'am?" Catra rubbed at her eyes and blinked away the spots. The kid had vanished.
"Easy! He's got a sword," she heard the sergeant barking again, "where's the spearmen? Ah, here we are and so nice of you to join us. Pig-stickers in position, troopers, the Rebels aren't already smooching the back of our necks by some kind of miracle. Chunhua, is the sky attacking us? Get that spear level with the freaking enemy!"
"He's…he's just a-" someone protested.
"He's a hostile," the sergeant spat back.
"Open up," someone shouted from the back of the massing circle, "Force Captain's coming up, guys, part the curtain!"
"Hey, hey sarge! Sarge, the Machine-Shop says we ain't getting bot support right now. Everything's fried!"
"Am I Force Captain Grizzlor, Terra? Why are you telling me? Get back to him and let him know."
"Yes, ma'am! Force Captain!"
The kid was all but spinning in a circle, trying to get a view of everyone around him at once. Catra was crouched, thunderstruck, when someone finally grabbed her shoulder.
"Catra!" She whipped around and Lonnie jumped back in surprise. Her detachment had come. Forty-four freshly promoted Cadets, none of them in armor, some of them without their boots. All of them blinking sleepily at the harsh lights of the Square.
"Ah, eyelid! You were holding my eyelid open!" Scorpia squawked.
"Force Captain, I need you to tell me if you're seeing double," the medic said rapidly, "are you breathing ok? Anything bleeding?"
"No…Yes…No. Why the questions-hey, where's the fire? Scorpia said.
"Force Captain," the medic said, Catra felt a hand in a plastic glove touch her shoulder, "I need you to look at me-"
"Don't. Touch me." The medic's green eyes went wide above her stark, cloth mask when Catra whirled on her. A moment later her walkie-talkie crackled to life.
"By every moon of Etheria," someone was shrieking, "does anyone copy? Internal triage in Harbor 14! Massive internal triage! The power cut out and we just had a fully crewed patrol boat crash into A2 dry-dock. There was a shift of engineers in there! Massive internal triage! Medical Personnel Priority 1!"
"Part the curtain," a trooper was screaming around them, "part the curtain, guys, Force Captains trying to get through!" Before Catra could see who was approaching, someone flanked her with a question.
"Do I have your permission to go, ma'am!" Catra blinked at being so addressed. Sweat was beading on the medic's shaven head. "Ma'am, yes or no? I need a Force Captain's clearance to answer calls away from this mission area."
"Wh- Yes! Get out my face! And don-"
The medic was already a blur of black and red shoving through her soldiers. Behind her she heard the boy snarl and the sword clatter loudly.
"Just…just lay it on the ground, son, nobody wants to hurt you!"
"Mattias," the sergeant was roaring, "you let that pig-sticker in your hands dip again, I will personally feed it to you!"
"Force Captains at the front, move it, guys!"
"Catra," Lonnie said, "what is going on?"
"Catra," Scorpia was rising to her feet, "where'd…where'd the big guy go? Who's…is that a little boy?"
"Everybody," Catra roared, "just shut up! Shut your mouths or I start sending people to the Beast Island Ferry!" Horde Square went quiet as it had been when Catra was alone with the boy. Until a deep, watery voice chortled.
"Still getting in over your head, huh, little girl?" Catra growled and turned a baleful stare on the hulking figure that emerged before her. One luciferous yellow eye looked down at her and four tentacles thick as a grown man's leg writhed behind muscled shoulders.
"Still can't see out of your left eye?" Catra said with a smirk.
"Get some new material, kitty," Octavia growled, "what is this thing?" She shoved past Catra and stomped up to the kid. The boy hissed and circled around to face her.
"By the Power of Grayskull!" He shouted desperately.
"What'd he just say?" A voice trying to escape a box of dimwitted rocks growled. A huge, bear-like man shoved through the line of spearmen to pen the boy in from the other side. He rested huge, hairy hands on either side of a belt-buckle emblazoned with the Horde symbol. "Where's She-Ra?"
"Maybe this is her," Octavia chortled, "looks like it could take you down no problem." A chorus of laughter rose up from behind her. Catra finally took in the soldiers around her. Grizzlor flashed his enormous teeth at her and glared at the boy.
The personal detachments of two of her 'colleagues'. Octavia's veterans were easily distinguished by the four painted tentacles writhing along their helmets and chest-guards. Grizzlor's rough-necks preferred drawing huge, white fangs on their helmets to make gaping green maws out of their visors.
"That's not She-Ra," a little tired voice piped up, "she's taller. And more muscular. And her sword doesn't look like-"
"She knows, Kyle, everybody does" Lonnie hissed, "just shut up, man."
"Too much for you though, huh?" Octavia's eye took in Catra's injuries greedily. "Some toddler with a sword he can't even lift. Good thing you called back-up."
"Hey," Scorpia said, rubbing at her sternum, "he was a seven-foot tall warrior with unbreakable skin like three minutes ago. And yeah, he wiped the floor with Catra and I on our own, but in the end, through the power of team-work-
"Scorpia!" Catra snarled, blushing, "Shut. Up."
"Everyone's scared of the big, bad She-Ra. I've never seen her. Maybe she's made up. Could be a cover story for... shotty leadership?" Catra grinned, scratching her neck with a claw in long strokes that she made sure Octavia could see.
"Funny theory. That reminds me, you still tell people a Princess did that to your eye, Octavia? Or are you trying out new material?" The Cephlapodian woman showed her a mouthful of serrated teeth and pressed on her badge.
"Lord Hordak, come in-" she started. Catra grabbed her own badge and spoke quickly.
"Lord Hordak, Force Captain Catra here, I took down the intruder as you ordered." Octavia narrowed her eye but shrugged a moment later.
"Not gonna fight you for credit on some rat in a purple tunic anyway." She shot a glare at the boy. "Someone take that thing from him and cuff the kid"
"He's my prisoner," Catra got into the other Force Captain's face, "take your guys and get lost. I can handle this without you."
"Not your call, little girl, we're answering a general invasion alert. All of us are staying right here until Lord Hordak says otherwise. You'd know that if you actually wanted to learn a thing or two about that badge you're shaming."
"Hey," Grizzlor was growling, "give it here, bite-sized, before I get mad." Catra spun and hissed. The brute was stomping toward the boy with his beefy arms swinging. "Gonna smack you with that thing if you don't hand it over!" He charged up and stomped his boot down on the flat of the blade. It snapped from the boy's hands and he yipped, shaking his smarting fingers.
The boy stumbled backwards into the ring of soldiers and one of Grizzlor's troops shoved him back toward Grizzlor with their foot. The boy dove to grasp his sword and tried to slip it free. Grizzlor again stomped down as soon as the blade rose, chuckling. He eased up a moment later to let him try once more. Catra was about to step in when, as the Force Captain's foot came down, the boy's blue eyes flashed.
He twirled the sword in his grip and Grizzlor's mocking chuckle became an ape-like babble of fear as his thick boot stabbed itself an inch onto the razor edge. The soldiers gasped and the Force Captain fell off balance, ripping his shoe off and quickly checking his foot for injuries. Catra snorted.
"Easy, Grizzlor," she said, "the kid's a lot tougher than he looks." Luckily, from Grizzlor's perspective, nothing had been damaged other than his boot and his pride. Octavia's soldiers rained derision on him, stomping their feet and jeering. Catra felt her stomach turn.
Horde Troopers. Eager to fight one minute, ready to bully the next. Scumbags. She smirked when the boy swung his sword at the line of soldiers behind him. No one dared kick at him this time, for fear of losing their foot.
"By the Power of Grayskull!" The boy yelped. Grizzlor scooted himself back, seething angrily and glaring murder at the child.
"I'm gonna pull your little legs off for that, you freak!"
The boy dropped his sword and pounded his chest with both hands, flexing his tiny, string-bean biceps before snatching his weapon up once more. Catra smirked and pressed her badge again.
"Lord Hordak?" She said. "Come in, my lord, I got the intruder in my custody."
"Radio Tower's still down, girly. Hey! Mantenna!" snapped Octavia, making nearly everyone wince. With a head like an orange catfish, giant eyes like two yellow pumpkins, and four muscular legs stumbling awkwardly beneath him, the trooper saluted nervously. "Go knock on the throne room door and inform Lord Hordak we got this on lockdown."
"Uh," Mantenna said in a nasally drone, "me, Cap?" He glanced at Hordak's Tower nervously, his hands working over each other with anxious movements.
"No," Octavia rolled her eye, "the other freak-show I got the bad-luck to command. Unless you wanna try taking the sword from the little monster?" Mantenna glanced at the boy and then at the sword and then at Grizzlor's boot. He saluted with a newfound sense of certainty and left in a scurry.
"You all scared of a kid?" Octavia snickered, shooting a smirk at Grizzlor, "Huh, some surprise we lost our foothold out in the Woods. And then to a bunch of Plumerian gardeners." She grinned at Catra. "Yea. She-Ra's gotta be made up. With troops like these, why would the Rebellion even need something that nasty?" Catra almost took the bait but a sudden thought made her stop.
She-Ra. Scary enough to sound like an excuse, huh? Scary enough to account for all our losses. A one-soldier army. She smiled and then grinned wide when she looked over the sword in the boy's trembling grip. But if there was another She-Ra? One I had on a leash?
"Hey, Grizzlor," Catra said, striding in between the boy and the Force Captain with her back turned confidently to the child, "hit the showers. No more fighting."
"Scared I'll hurt him?" Grizzlor snarled. "He your new friend, Catra? Yeah. You need new friends now, don't you? Maybe this one won't turn trait-aaaaaugh!"
"You're slow," Catra scolded, wiggling her fingers and admiring the five red lines crossing Grizzlor's bicep, "and I'm not in the mood. Now scram."
"You can't order me!" He squeaked and jumped away as Catra flashed her claws once more.
"I can," Catra purred, "because I'm strong and you're weak." She grinned over her shoulder at the boy. "You owe me, kid. Twice now. I'm keeping count."
"Ah?" he said, staring at her from under his hood. She was pleased he wasn't showing hostility anymore. That was at least a start.
Yea. I could work with this. A She-Ra to fight a She-Ra. Yeah that'd be-
"Oh!" The boy jabbed a finger at her…no, past her!
Catra ducked a huge, brown-furred arm and punched a soft spot in the armpit.
"Ha!" The boy cheered. The cat-eared lady seemed totally unafraid as the bear-man limped away, grasping at his armpit and hooting like a monkey.
She is not to be trusted! The words. I can protect you!
"By the Power of Grayskull," he whispered.
"Hey," the cat-eared lady's voice made him jump, "none of that, booger. You stay small and skinny for now, ok? It won't work anyhow." The boy was struck again by the surrealness of being spoken to by someone. He chewed his lip, distracted for a moment by the monumental task of understanding her and trying to wrap his head around what she wanted.
He'd never dealt with something like her. Something that had attacked him… and stopped.
The sword! He blew a raspberry in protests. The Other One had been saying 'the sword' non-stop since the boy had emerged from hiding into the strange, empty place. Now there were more people around him than he ever thought could be in the whole world.
And not just them. The buildings! Each one dwarfed the old gray castle a dozen times over. Did that mean there were even more people in them? How? How could so many people be anywhere. The boy smiled, almost laughing with excitement.
There were tall metal towers in every direction, lit by strange, twinkling lights that cast an orange glow on the fringes of the night sky. The night sky…the empty night sky.
"Oooooh," he said, feeling his heart turn to lead, "ah?" No lights. No stars. A black void lit by a few lonely moons. The stars were gone.
The stars were gone!
Gone. A voice entered his mind. Whispery and sly and dripping with malice. He couldn't understand it but it chilled him like ice. Gone, Adora, all gone. You don't deserve them. You bad child, you ran away from home and took up with these Rebels. Shadow Weaver loved you. Cared for you herself! How could you? How could you betray her? The words spoken made feelings the boy didn't understand churn in his head. Guilt. Shame. Anger. He knew none of the names the whisper spoke, nor why they made his heart ache.
The sword!
"By the Power of Grayskull!" The boy looked around, chest heaving against sobs as he found nothing above him but empty, starless darkness.
Then he saw the red lights, growing larger as they descended and the sword slipped from his paralyzed hands.
Gone. Gone, Adora. You know you deserve this…now, it is time to come home! The red lights hovered twenty feet above him and the sky grew even darker.
"I'll get you for this…I'll…I'll…" Grizzlor's voice trailed off into a whimper, "what'd…what'd you just say to me, Catra?!" Catra arched an eyebrow, one ear cocked at the sound of the boy's sudden silence behind her.
"Nothing," she shrugged, "but I can think of a few…of a few…" a presence was growing in her mind.
You wretched child. She froze and waited for the touch of red lightning to engulf her in agony. She shook her head and reminded herself Shadow Weaver wasn't there. She was in her chambers doing who-knew-what. You are exactly like him. Like Octavia. Tormenting those who are weaker than you. No wonder she left.
"Shut up!" Someone yelled in the surrounding crowd. Around them, a dozen voices exclaimed and asked them what was wrong. "Just shut up about it!"
"C-c-catra," Scorpia chattered, "I-I think we need to g-g-go! Now!" Catra rolled her eyes. Shooting a glare at Scorpia.
"Don't be stupid, Scorpia, we're right where we're supposed to be!"
She saved your life. How many times now? Too many to count. All you can do to pay her back is hurt her. And why? Because you're scared, Catra, deep down, under all of this, you're a little frightened child.
"Are…are you saying that?" she bared her teeth and looked at Octavia. The big woman didn't laugh or grin or sneer, she was stock still, one eye darting in every direction.
"What… what's happening? I…I can't see. I'm blind! I can't see!"
You did that to her. You blinded her. Did she deserve that, Catra? To lose an eye in a fight you started? No. You never think about the things you do. All these people you ruin and hurt. Adora thought about them. Adora was terrified of you. She was scared of who you became when you were angry.
"Who's doing that?" Her question was lost in a growing din of scared voices.
"Orders…" the sergeant was gasping, "orders…I didn't want to! I had orders!"
"Fire in the barracks! There's a fire! Someone, please! Open the door!"
"Rebels… keep your voices down! Rebels in the trees! They can hear us, be quiet!"
"Catra," Scorpia yelled, "please…I gotta go home! My mom! I think…something happened to her! I have to go check!"
"Hey," Lonnie yelped, "the-the lights! They went out again!"
"Everyone shut up!" Catra snapped.
You can't control them. That's for the better. You don't care about them. Any of them. You never did. Not even about Adora.
"Who's there?" She said, tail puffing up. There was tension growing in her brain. Dread. Like she knew something was about to come crashing into her.
But why? She thought. What's happening?
What's happening to you? You care now that you're affected? Of course. Always so self-centered. Adora always thought so. She never said anything. She wanted to be your friend so badly, Catra. She hoped she could change you. She was afraid you'd leave her.
"Adora left me!" She growled. She was being stupid. Whatever this was, it was a trick. Evil magic or something. She shouldn't engage with it.
She wanted so many things from you, Catra, but she never felt safe telling you what they were. She knew how cruel you could be and she tried to be there for you anyway. Her greatest mistake.
"Get away from me!" On impulse, Catra's claws unsheathed as she batted at the air around her like she had insects buzzing at her face.
A punch landed somewhere in the crowd and an avalanche of violence crashed through the square. Comrades fell, one after the other, screaming and whimpering as they threw wild kicks and punches. Scorpia was trying to shove through the press, blubbering about her mother. Lonnie was swinging her fists at empty air. Rogelio was frozen in place staring into the distance, next to Kyle, who'd fainted dead away.
She was alone in the eye of a maelstrom of fear.
Alone. Always alone.
"Shut up!" Catra's fingers dug into her hair, pressing her ears down but the voice only grew louder and mirthful. She crouched away from it, nearly crawling as it became deafening.
She tricked herself into seeing something in you that no-one else did. She was stupid, like you always said she was, until she finally learned. She finally saw that she was better off without you.
"I'm not listening," she shrieked.
But the worst part about you, Catra, is that even now…she misses you.
"Stop," she rasped, "stop!"
You could have gone with her. She would have still protected you. But you didn't want love, you wanted power. You hated her for being stronger. You are worse than a liar. Worse than a bully. You made her think you loved her and now, to be free, she has to think she betrayed you.
"She made her choice!"
The only one you gave her.
"She's never coming back!"
She's never coming back to you.
"Go away…please, go away!"
You deserve the Fright Zone… the only place you belong… here you are laughing at her… scheming against her with the people you hate most… the people who hate you most… the only people you deserve... You never loved her. No matter what you tell yourself. You never loved Adora. Who could do this to someone they love?
"A-Ah, Adora!" Catra sobbed once, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Adora! Help!"
YOU HID TOO WELL, CATRA, SHE CAN'T FIND YOU. SHE'S CRYING IN THE DARK AND SHE CAN'T FIND YOU.
Catra crumpled to the floor and landed on something made of cold steel. Something new shrieked in her mind, like a ghost howling in agony.
The child!
"No more," she whimpered, "no more. You win. Just…leave me alone."
Save the child!
"Wh-what?"
I can help you, stranger. Save the boy before it takes him!
She looked up and gaped. The boy was somehow rising into the open air above them all, kicking and fighting and squirming against nothing. Yelling his little voice hoarse with fear. Catra started to rise.
The sword. Keep touching the sword!
"The sword?" she mumbled. Her mind was like a lightbulb whining with too much electricity. Any second now she would pop into shattered glass and burning filament.
Help him! Help him and I will save you!
"I," her pride broke the surface of her fear, "I don't need you-"
Yes you do. You are weak.
"You," Catra growled, tears still on her face, "You're the one… why should I trust you?"
Look around. Who else will help?
Horde Troopers, veterans and rookies alike, writhed in horror in every direction. They were crying. Some of the toughest soldiers on Etheria, who'd been taught all their lives that tears were the most hideous weakness, were sobbing like babies.
They aren't alone. Catra touched her wet face. Find your courage and sharpen it!
"I thought," Catra sneered, shivering at the sights around her, " you said I was 'weak'?"
Curse you. Then prove me wrong! The sword. Touch the handle and say the words! Catra's hands froze above the hilt. I can give you power. The power to see!
"B..by the- oh, this is stupid! It doesn't work this way!"
The words, you coward, say them and stop being afraid!
"I'm not a-! Fine, you stupid whatever you are! Don't forget I took you down."
That victory was the scorpion-tailed warrior's.
"By the Power," Catra growled, anger fueling her, "of Grayskull!"
Now see our enemy. The rest is up to you. Get the sword to him and I will end this… Please.
Catra blinked as a flash of light shimmered in the fuller of the sword, showing her the barest flash of the warrior's searing blue eyes. Then the metal turned pitch black.
No, she thought, it's…reflecting the sky? But…
She looked up, and in the chaos of the Square, her shriek of horror was barely noticeable.
A living shadow blotted out everything above her. Two huge red eyes with obsidian slivers for pupils glared down at her. A hundred tendrils hung below it like the legs of a grotesquely mutated black spider. A handful were spiraling the boy upwards towards its 'face' eagerly. Catra felt bile rise in her throat as she realized one was retreating from her. The other voice, the dark and whispery one, had shown itself.
"You," she hissed, "you…Oh, I got no idea how I'm gonna do it, but I'm gonna kill you!"
Catra leapt into action, sliding around patches of brawling soldiers and vaulting over those who had simply curled up on the ground. It was sickening. She was no stranger to using fear in battle, it was standard Horde tactics, but this was a monstrous display even she found repulsive.
Or maybe that's just cuz it hurt me, she felt the thought piercing her, maybe otherwise I'd want it for myself. She stung her cheek with a slap and shook her mane. No! Focus! She snatched a spear from the trembling, limp hands of a nearby soldier. With a deft flick of her wrist she held it like a javelin and hurled it at the red eyes. The spear passed through harmlessly like it was mist.
That will not work.
"Oh, duh, gee-wiz, you think so," Catra affected a dimwitted tone, "you are useless." The voice offered no further comment. "Don't you ignore me."
She tightened her grip on the sword and heaved it up with a grunt of exertion. The thing was heavy and the fact that the boy was even able to move it seemed impossible. Catra lurched forward, shoulder and ankle competing for 'worst pain' and staying largely neck-and-neck the whole way.
"Little further," she hissed, "little further!" She made liberal use of her elbows to shove aside the gibbering mass of soldiers around her. She eyed the long tendrils tying them to the dark shadow. The ones trying to snatch the boy up seemed to furl and unfurl clumsily, like they weren't quite meant for it.
"I hope," she growled, picking up her pace, "this works." She glared at the red eyes of the shadow-thing. "And more than that, you big creep, I hope this really hurts!" She screamed with the pain in her foot as she raced the last few feet and hefted up the sword.
DO NOT HIT THE CHILD!
"Shut up!" She swung with her whole body, mis-matched eyes tracking the blue steel as it swept a long horizontal arc and grazed a piece of purple fur off the top of the boy's tunic. She put all her lungs into a mocking laugh as the black tendrils severed under the magic sword passed through them. She choked at the noise the shadow-thing emitted. It was a scream in the pits of her brain and it nearly knocked her flat with its volume.
"Ow!" The boy piped up, rubbing at his behind where he'd dropped to the floor. His hood had fallen and his eyes searched her curiously.
"Oh…" Catra huffed, barely standing from her wounds, "That hurt? I'm so...so sorry for you. My heart is bleeding… ah! Maybe literally." She relinquished the weapon with a metal crash and slumped to sit across from him. "Hey," she pointed at the sword, "chop-chop. Come on. Turn into the big guy and...y'know...do your thing." She waved a hand vaguely at the glaring shadow-thing.
The boy looked between her and the weapon several times before, tentatively, taking the sword in hand.
"By the Power," he whispered, "of Grayskull." Catra tensed and waited. The boy glanced up and his cheeks colored a soft pink.
"Um...uh," he said bashfully.
There was a roar behind her and when she looked over her shoulder she saw Grizzlor charging at them. Foam flew from his mouth and his eyes were huge with fury. The black tendril connecting him to the shadow-thing was taut, as if it were dragging him towards them. She turned on the boy, poking him in the chest.
"Kid. Figure this out. Make it work!" She tapped the blade. "Every minute I spend saving your tail is another favor you owe me. Got it?"
The boy blinked at her and then puffed out his chest with a confident nod.
"By the Power of Grayskull!" He cried out, his arm extended. They both held out hope that was dashed almost immediately. Grizzlor lopped forward on his knuckles, half-feral in his terror. Catra rose, cracked her neck and spun in place.
"Oh well," she snarled, "I wasn't finished with you anyway!" She lunged forward, claws unsheathing. Behind her the boy screamed once more.
"By the Power of Grayskull!" Catra and Grizzlor collided with animal roars. Around them, the crowd of Horde troopers raised their voices in a chorus of horror as the creature above pulled more victims forward to rush her.
Hello everyone,
I wanted to take a moment to tell you all about how much I love the show She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. Noelle Stevenson and her team gave people like me a show that we needed right now. One made to make people of color and queer people feel seen, needed, and hopeful for a future that will include them. Her show also told me some things I've already heard, but probably needed to hear again; that we all need each other. We all need to guard and protect each other, especially when we're at our strongest. And that we best guard each other when we also remember to love and protect ourselves.
If you choose to do something to help the BLM cause, whatever form that takes, remember that you're potentially protecting someone like me by doing so. Please also remember to protect yourself.
I hope whoever you are reading this, you're somewhere safe, that the past weekend hasn't broken your spirits entirely yet, and if it did, you find the strength to put it back together again. And I really hope reading this story gave you something that's helpful to you right now, whatever that could be.
-Hector