"Two points to me," the dream-warrior said, his mustache twitching with a little smile, "guard you legs, princess." Adora stamped away the odd pins-and-needles sensation the man's mace left in her right kneecap. She adjusted her grip on the mace in her right hand, hefting up the kite shield in her left hand.
The dream-warrior mimicked her, taking up a stance that put the edge of his shield level with his nose, letting only deep brown eyes peek out at her. On his shield a bronze eagle spread its wings defiantly as a royal coat of arms.
Gotta remember that.
Adora rushed forward, using her shield as her lead attack. Their eagles crashed into each other like they were warring over territory. Her mace found his unprotected shoulder a second after her left thigh went numb, like it was going to sleep. The man shoved her onto her back with the forward press of his shield.
"Three points to me," he said, "guard your-"
"Legs! I know!" Adora snapped, smacking her mace against the stone floor with a petulant ringing of metal. Maces had always felt so clumsy to her. "Urgh. Can we skip this one? Go on to trial three?" She'd had the dream twice since the first night, and this marked her second failure.
The dream-warrior stood silently, awaiting her to 'respect the rules of sparring'. Adora grunted wordlessly and held up the submission sign, two fingers raised to point at her opponent. The dream-warrior smiled, a little too self-satisfied she thought, and wished her good night, better luck next time.
"Let's go right now!" She insisted. The dream-warrior vanished after his surroundings did. Adora danced from foot to foot, punching at the empty air.
"Stupid maces! I'm never gonna be good enough to…argh! Take a deep breath." She exhaled air like an industrial bellows. "We'll work on it tomorrow." She closed her eyes and when she opened them again she was laying in her bed again, in the dead of night at Bright Moon Castle. She slipped out of the sheets, hair and shoes already on, nodding to the bewildered guard at her doorway.
The nightwatch outside the library tower held back their questions as she bustled past them, up a spiral staircase into higher reaches of the turrets. Rows of empty bookshelves taunted her. It took her three minutes to find anything actually on the shelves. The reference section of the library offered her an army of uniform violet books, individual only in the year and letter on the spines. She grabbed a copy of the Etherian Almanac Letter G from over a decade earlier, then slumped onto the floor.
"Grayskull, Grayskull, Grayskull," she mumbled to herself. Other than her quiet, hopeful chanting and the fwip-fwip-fwip of turning pages, the library was silent as a forgotten tomb. "Nothing. Not even a 'Greyskull'."
She elbowed the bookshelf in frustration then made an embarrassing squawk as it wobbled and bombarded her with a few Almanacs. One smacked her on the pompadour and fell open at her feet. She glanced at it out of the vaguest hope that destiny would show her the answer. Her eyes found the first listed word.
"Fishing Contest Incident: Turn of phrase originating here from an accident at the 87th Summer Big Reel Competition at Fandolin that resulted in casualties in the low hundreds. See related material 'I Tell You It Was This Big: A Survivor's Account.'" She groaned. "Thanks, library." Adora picked up the Almanac and flipped through it a few pages.
"First Ones," she said, "Civilization founded thousands of years before….blah, blah, blah…no other known information!" She dropped the book and buried her face in her hands. "Where do I even begin looking for a 'Castle Grayskull'?" She hugged her knees, resting her chin on her still tingling right kneecap.
"Who were you," she asked the library, thinking of the dream-warrior, "Defender of the Secrets of Castle Grayskull…what secrets? Is it She-Ra?" She scooted along the floor to the far bookshelves, the 'S' section of the Almanacs, she plucked one and found her alter-ego. "She-Ra, also called 'The She-Ra', hero of multiple legends across Etherian culture. See 'The Princess of Power: She-Ra Across History and Myth by George and Lance of the Whispering Woods.'" Adora snorted. Every referenced book she'd tried hunting down was gone. Bright Moon's library was barren.
She flicked through the next few pages, perking up when she saw photographs of murals and paintings depicting the warrior-spirit she shared a destiny with. Her interest piqued as she realized some held First One's writing, indecipherable to all but herself.
"She-Ra the Founder," she read aloud, "we depict her here as she was when she arrived…and the rest is rubble," she sighed. She leaned over the book, struggling to find some better lighting in the dark library tower. "She-Ra the Vict…orious I'm gonna guess. This statue is also rubble. Does it all have to be broken?" She flipped a page and huffed angrily. The last three pictures were the worst yet!
They'd been defaced, intentionally, the angular figure cracked, chipped with what must've been hammers, and carved over the proper words was more First One's writing. She read it dejectedly, not getting her hopes up. The photograph made it a harder translation.
"Probably, 'do it over, Sam, her feet still look weird…" she trailed off, horror touching her spine, " 'Death to the Tyrants…'." She sat up squinting at the next image. "She-Ra the…that can't be…"
Murderer. Indicted the hieroglyphics.
"No," Adora said, her breathing starting quicken, "this is a mistake She-Ra's a hero! I'm not…she's not…" she looked at the last image, a mural scoured almost blank with vandalism. Carved across it, with jagged strokes that immortalized the hatred of the scribe.
"Remember Castle…" her fingers were trembling such that she was afraid she'd rip the pages, "Remember Castle Grayskull…She-Ra lied. She-Ra the King-Killer." Adora breathed through the pressure constricting her lungs and flipped to the index page to find information on the pictures. "Ok. Ok. Breathe. Breathe. Devlan Ruins. Devlan. D. D. D."
She pulled the most recent 'D' Almanac off it's shelf, knocking two of it's brethren to the floor without a backward glance.
"Devlan Ruins. 'The Stone Rings of Devlan' were-oh, no-no-no 'were'?!-were a collection of First Ones ruins…dynamited by the Horde during the Occupation of Devlan." She hissed through her teeth and hurled the book down the long aisle, her arms still burning from her dream-battle.
"Why?! Why can't I just get some answers!" She walked slowly after the book, retrieving it and grimacing at the way the spine had been bent by her tantrum. "I can't do anything right…" she descended the tower in a cloud of despair, pausing briefly at the bottom of the staircase, looking back up as if she'd see a ghost following her.
"Murderer. She-Ra... was a murderer?" she whispered, suddenly wishing to be back in her room, with a guard at her door. The night was chilly as she left, the first fingers of Autumn turning the moisture in the air almost wintery cold.
Adam growled a little at the sweaty, clingy lanks of blonde hair getting in his face.
"That tunic of yours is what's making you warm, kid. I told you to leave it," Lonnie rolled her eyes, then poked his side with the practice sword, "and you're dead by the way." Adam blinked then shook his head like a wet dog to clear the hair from his eyes.
"No," he argued, then made a 'T' symbol awkwardly, one of his hands held a practice sword, "no!"
"Time-outs last thirty seconds," Lonnie said, "and I gave you forty-five cuz I'm nice like that. Adam loses. Again." Adam grumbled, then held up two fingers in the pose he'd seen the warriors in his dream do when they stopped fighting. Lonnie squinted at him. "That supposed to mean something to me?"
"Um?" Adam said. He bowed at the waist. Lonnie pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'm not Lord Hordak, kid, so please stop bowing to me…it's weird," Lonnie shot him a glance, "what's with you anyway? You've been kinda sucking at this today." Adam cocked his head, too many new words hitting him at once.
She…has noticed…
He waited, frowning at the time it took the Other One to respond.
…you…are…not…
"You're thinking really hard on this, huh?"
"Mmmm!"
….fighting well.
Adam let his sword drop and crossed his arms. He was trying. He'd been watching the dream-warriors fight and Lonnie had been teaching him so many new things. He'd wanted to get it right on his own. Maybe if he did things right he'd get to see Catra again. She'd been gone forever.
"Hey, don't start getting mad now, little man," Lonnie said, "we've got a lot of training still to do today." Adam sat on the floor turning his back on her. "Adam… ugh, fine. It's about lunch time anyways. I'm gonna go grab some food from the barracks. You coming?" She stepped around in front of him, pointing to the door. "Let's go?"
"No," Adam grumped. He didn't want to go anywhere. He didn't want to train anymore. He wanted to go back to sleeping in the same room as Catra. To go eat with Catra. To just be able to see Catra.
You….must…focus!
Away! Adam thought at the Other One. Away! Maybe he was obeyed or maybe the Other One was gone again, either way his head was filled with silence. Lonnie turned her palms up helplessly, looking at the ceiling for aid.
"Fine. Have your pout, kid, but you've got exactly til I'm back with the food to work it out. Cuz after we eat, we train." Lonnie placed her weapon on the rack and whipped her poncho down from its peg. "I'm locking the door this time, Adam, so don't try to wander off. I'll be back quick. Ok?"
"Hmph!"
"Maybe you can sulk your opponent to death five days from now," Lonnie muttered as she left. Adam pushed his hood back and snarled at the hair sticking to his cheeks, shoving it all to fall on one side. He took a look at himself in the mirror, blinking in surprise. He puffed up his face like a puffer fish.
"Hmmm," he said curiously. Either he was seeing things or his face was…fuller. He lifted his hand up to his chin and became fascinated with his bare arm. That was fuller too. Curiosity taking hold, he scooted his tunic up and lifted his new white shirt a little. His belly wasn't so flat anymore. He couldn't so easily find the edges of his ribs. He cocked his head and remembered when Catra had helped him the first night that his stomach had hurt from all the food he ate.
His stomach was…growing? That seemed absurd. But then…nobody he'd seen around this place was as skinny as he'd been. He needed to start being more careful with his food. Catra and Lonnie were nice to share but they must have had no idea what going hungry was like.
He fixed his clothing and looked around the room, aware of the distant drumming of raindrops on the stone and metal outside the walls.
Mirrors. Soft flooring. Bright lights that came on at a gesture. He couldn't have been away from the old gray castle for that long, but everything from that place felt like someone else's dream. He felt a cloud fall over his mind…his cub. He hadn't seen his little green tiger cub in forever.
Where was he? Dead, probably, without Adam there to look after him. Adam pawed at the fur of his tunic, too thin, too lifeless to mimic the little warm body of his best friend. Maybe he'd never see his cub again…maybe he'd never see Catra again. He sniffled loudly and watched his reflection's eyes mist up.
Hopefully Lonnie would come back soon. Loneliness felt the same here as it had in the gray castle and Adam still hated it.
The little beeping noise of the door made him squeak in surprise.
"Hey!" A voice called through the metal. "Sergeant, Blue-Crest! Sir, it's not opening!" Adam blinked at the door. That wasn't Lonnie. That wasn't Catra either.
"Ah!" he whispered at the Other One. Silence. Adam scrambled to his feet and smacked his hands along the wall, where Lonnie gestured each day to turn the lights on. He growled as nothing happened then grinned triumphantly as his fingers touched a little plastic switch…maybe…yes! It worked! The lights faded.
He scuttled on all fours, like he had back in the castle, careful as his eyes adjusted to the light. By touch he found his practice sword. He huddled into the far corner, watching himself in the mirror until he was snuggled safely out of view between a set of tiny spear racks, peering between two hafts like the bars of a prison cell.
Heavy footsteps outside approached the door. It bleeped again.
"So it is, Cadet," a rough bass voice rumbled, "how bout that? Bots do this some times, lock up old unused rooms by accident. Hang on." Adam bit back a gasp as the door light turned green, the metal panel slid up, and the sound of rain became deafening. "You came in first again, didn't you? Not enough being the fastest runner in the General Program?"
"But…I wanted to see if I could get here faster than normal. Like break a record," the other voice countered, it was high-pitched and youthful but undercut with frustration, "stupid robots. Stupid doors."
"Break a record," the man chuckled, "barely ever been down this side of the Fright Zone and you're already trying to break records. Well, are you going inside or you wanna keep joggin' in the rain, Cadet?"
"N-no, sir!" Smaller feet rushed inside then squeaked and stumbled. The little voice gasped. "I'm ok!" The man made a sound that didn't seem very impressed.
"You're fellow Future Force Captains are lagging," the man sighed, "Cadet, you have the room. I'm taking those slowpokes on an extra lap around the hall. Stay here, get in position. Turn these lights on for me, soldier."
"Sir, yes, sir," the little voice said eagerly, "can I-"
"Don't touch the equipment."
"But I was just-!"
"Cadet," the man said with a little growl of warning.
Adam realized he'd been leaning out of his hiding spot in the silence that followed. The little voice spoke up, sullen and frustrated.
"Yes, sir, Sergeant Blue-Crest."
"Touch those weapons and you won't even be a Future Janitor, much less a Force Captain." The heavy footsteps faded away and went silent as the door hissed shut. Adam almost emerged into the dark room, wondering if he was alone, when the little voice shot up.
"You're a janitor!" There was rustling of material. "Ugh. Yuck! Wet ponchos are gross…where are the dumb lights?" There was a click and the world flashed into sight with a fluorescent buzz. Adam huddled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut in pain, he'd been watching so closely. As he blinked the spots away, he gasped softly as a figure turned around from the wall.
It had figured out the lights so fast. It stood now, black poncho like a shroud around its body and head. It raised its hands, as if to cast a mighty spell of arcane power, Adam cowered back, awe-struck as it grabbed two handfuls of black material and…wiggled in place.
"Come…on! Get offa me!" The figure hopped in place. "I hate! These dumb! Poncho-oooooo!" The imposing stranger's white boots had caught the trail of the poncho and tripped them up. They lay quietly in a heap of black plastic on the floor.
"Man… I wish I knew bad words for stuff like this…" the lump shimmied.
A person emerged like a butterfly from a clingy black cocoon. Adam's mouth fell open in shock. Not just a person… a child. Like him. He'd never, ever, ever even dreamed he'd meet somebody who was like he was… he thought he was the only one in the whole world.
His heart raced and he stood up in his hiding spot, hands finding the spear shafts on either side of his face. The stranger stood to their full height and Adam stared in wonder.
A proud looking little girl straightened up with an air of world-conquering ambitions. She fussed with her hair, a brilliant shade of copper which ended at her shoulders, for a second. It had been mussed-up by her poncho. She sneered, narrowed her russet eyes under some hawkish, cooper eyebrows and kicked the edge of the offending garment. Then, satisfied in her vengeance, she spun around to face the long mirror.
Adam turned his ear out towards her when she started humming whilst pushing her hair back from her face, wrestling a plastic hairband from her scalp. It was a kitschy shade of gold, worn with age, but she handled it like it was the crown of a sovereign kingdom. She slipped it into place, her widow's peak displayed proudly on her forehead.
Her humming became a song, sung to herself as she looked over her appearance in the mirror.
"I fought with rebels one," she bared her teeth, singing through them as she checked their pearly white-ness, "I di-dat juss fer fun." She sucked her lips in and puffed her cheeks out, giggling a second later at the face she made. Adam's covered his mouth to keep from snickering, absorbed in watching her. "So come on oooo-ver. War's not oooo-ver."
She lifted her right arm high, rolling up the right sleeve of her white shirt, like Adam's save for red accents on the shoulder. She flexed a skinny arm and seemed very pleased with herself. She rolled her sleeve back down, resting her fists on either hip.
"So put your weapon next to miiine," she sang a little louder, her voice cracking a little, "aim right on down the line." Her eyes flickered right and she spun toward him, copper hair trailing like fire. Adam bit his cheek to keep from gasping and froze as he hid his face, but her eyes had landed on the punching bag. She grinned at it like a fox catching a rabbit.
"Thought you could sneak up on me, Princess?" She jogged in place and rushed forward. She scuffed to a halt and made a fist, like Lonnie had taught Adam too, then threw three quick jabs at it. The punching bag chain whined in surrender as it swung backwards, but the little red-haired girl was merciless.
"I fought with rebels two," she sang, shouting the song with each punch, "I did that just for YOU!" She threw a kick that landed awkwardly and she hopped on foot, rubbing her shin. "Ow-ow ..your weapon next to mine..." she returned to her poncho.
"I fought with rebels three," she snapped the poncho three times for emphasis, "I did that to keep us free. So put your weapon next to mine…" Adam hummed the cadence quietly to himself, entranced by it, "aim right on down the line."
"…he won't be back soon," the girl whispered, Adam's heart leapt as he thought, momentarily, she was addressing him, "if I just…real quick and put it right back." She crept over to the sword rack, smiling at it like a birthday present. "Sooooo cool! I love swords!"
She snatched the first weapon she could find, twirling it with a turn of both wrists. Adam felt a little self-conscious. She could sing, she knew how lights worked, and she even did swords better than him. Lonnie would probably like her. He resisted the overwhelming urge to crawl out and meet her. What if she was like Scorpia and Catra?
His stomach bubbled. But what if she was like everyone else. Like the ones who wanted to hurt him? His caution didn't extend to his arms, which were bracing harder against the spear shafts he was hidden behind. He leaned forward, on his tip-toes, as the girl leveled her weapon at the punching bag.
"Queen Angella of Bright Moon," the girl cried, "your tyranny ends today! There will be Freedom on Etheria from this moment forward! No more slavery! No more magic oily…ollygark… no more bossing everybody around!" She raised her sword over head, murder in her eyes as she looked at the petrified punching-bag. Adam leaned forward, and so did the spear rack. "I'm gonna stop you! Me! Force Captain Te-"
The crash was muted, having landed on the soft exercise matting of the floor, but Adam's yell of surprise was quite loud. For that matter, so was the red-haired girl's answering shriek of surprise, which she turned into a battle-cry at the last moment. She charged at him, sword held high for the strike.
"Aaaah!" Adam huddled amongst the scattered spears, covering his face. "Sssss-orrrr-eeee!" The girl stomped heavily to arrest her charge and backed away, heaving loud, startled breathes. Adam looked up out of one frightened cornflower-blue eye. She lowered her sword and blinked at him.
"Wha-?" she tried. She took him in completely. His long honey-blonde hair. His purple tunic. His half-hidden face. "Who are you?" She trailed off once more, looking between him and the door. "When did…?" She tried again. "Where did…?" This avenue of questioning wouldn't happen either. She refocused and looked around him. Adam did as well.
A half-dozen spears lay like scattered match-sticks around them, hafts piled onto the wooden rack they'd sprung from when Adam knocked it over. Adam looked back up at her stunned face.
"…Hi?" He whispered. The girl's face went gaunt with horror.
"J-janitor…I don't... wanna be a janitor!" She sprinted back to the sword rack and stabbed the wall putting her weapon away. She turned and Adam shrank back at the determined snarl on her face. "Don't just lay there! Get up!"
"Uh. Um!" Adam scrambled free of the spears, standing off to the side, fiddling with the teeth on his tunic. The girl chewed a fingernail, a common reaction judging by its nine uneven comrades, and nodded once to herself. She kicked all the spears away, Adam hoped over one as it rolled under him. She squatted and grabbed the wooden rack.
"Hey!" Adam yipped at being addressed. "Help me out here! This was your fault!" Adam didn't understand her words but her instructions were obvious enough. He jumped over and crouched next to her. "Ok. On three. 1-2-3!" She lifted and groaned. "I said on three!"
"Ah," Adam replied, "sss…orree?"
"Forget it," the girl wheezed, "just lift!" They put all of their meager strength into it and Adam whooped in triumph as the rack rose and rattled back into place. "Not done. The spears! Put all of 'em back where you they were exactly!" She replaced one and Adam caught on. "No-no-no! Not upside down!" Adam caught on now.
"Ha!" Adam chirped as the last of the six weapons slid home. The red-haired girl was panting, the beige skin of her face pink from all of this sudden action. She searched the room, rooted to the spot and hovering a fingernail by her mouth.
"Do you see any cameras in here? No?" She gave in and chewed her index fingernail. "Ooooo. Dang it! Why didn't I just sit still and wait?" Adam placed a hand on her shoulder. She whipped his nose with her hair turning to look at him.
"Um…hi." He grinned hopefully. His mouth shrank into a little triangle of fear as the girl's eyebrows came together and her eyes stared into his soul. "…hi?"
"You almost got me in sooo much trouble!" She glanced down at his hiding place and growled when she saw his sword. "You're *still* getting me in so much trouble!" She shoved his hand away and stepped back, crossing her arms and straightening up.
She was little, like him, but not as little as him. She was perhaps three inches taller, but it felt like a mile with how she scowled down at Adam. She jabbed her finger at the sword.
"Put that back where you found it. Right now!" Adam gulped, nodding rapidly. He scooched down, reaching between the spears, bumping his forehead on one when the girl shouted. "And you better not knock those spears over again!"
"Sss-orry!" He gingerly retrieved his weapon and scurried over to the sword rack. Behind him, the red-haired girl had clasped her hands behind her back and puffed out her chest like an old-time general. She marched neatly, one boot in front of the other and loomed behind him. Adam put his weapon away carefully.
"Yeah," she said, "that's right. Now go stand there!" She shouted a little louder, clearly enjoying the power she was wielding. Adam obeyed. She was the 'boss' here. Like Lonnie was. It helped that she used lots of signs and gestures when she talked, and that she seemed to know more about how everything worked. Plus, she was taller.
The girl marched forward; chin raised so high her hair hung away from her neck. She leaned forward and looked him over with one eye. She sniffed and then sneezed. Adam blushed and smelled himself…he smelled alright. Just like the purple goop Catra gave him.
"How'd you get lavender wash," she asked, sounding a little hurt, "and how come you get to grow your hair that long? And wear special clothes?" Bold as she'd been all along, she ran her hand on his tunic. "Ewww. Is this fur? Are those teeth? How'd you…who gave these to you? No. First tell me who you are."
Adam looked off to the side, uncertain what she wanted from him. Not silence apparently. She drew herself up and squinted at him.
"You better tell me," she said, jabbing a thumb at herself, "I'm a Future Force Captain. That means I get special training and I'm gonna be in charge. Cuz only the best Future Force Captain Cadets get to be Force Captains." She poked him in the chest. "And. I. Am. The. Best."
"Ah?" Adam asked. She turned as red as her hair.
"Just tell me your name," she jumped up and down, "name! What is your-"
"Oh!" Adam smiled shyly, patting himself on the chest. "Adam!"
"A…Adam, huh?" The girl adopted her arch attitude all over again. "Ok, 'Adam', if that is your real name…" she glanced at the door and then at him. She whispered next time she spoke. "Look, you don't say anything about me playing…I mean," she coughed, "training with the sword. And I won't tell Sgt. Blue-Crest you were in here." She nodded. "That's fair. Ok?"
"Ah?" The girl tugged at her copper hair in frustration.
"Do we have a deal?" She growled. Adam perked up, cupping a hand over his cheek.
"D-deal." That word. Did she know Catra? Adam pointed at her. "Ah?"
"What?" She said. "Nevermind! Deal. So go."
"Ah?" The girl spun him around by the shoulders and suddenly he was stumbling towards the door.
"Deal! Deal, you weird boy! So go! Get out of here before…"
The door slid open. Adam gulped. A blue-furred man with piercing yellow eyes observed him carefully. Behind him, nine children in black ponchos peered around his legs like curious little trash bags. Adam felt the girl press against his side as she stood next to him.
"Sir!" she yelled. Adam jolted as an elbow dug into his side. The girl was glaring at him and holding her right hand by her forehead. He mimicked her, or tried to, and held his forehead like he was checking for a fever. "We were…"
The man covered his face with one hand and held the other up. The girl went quiet immediately. The man pointed wordlessly back into the training room. The girl took Adam's bicep in hand and led him to take up a position in front of the sword racks.
Adam watched the red-haired girl's other hand fidget nervously at her side. On a chance he placed his hand in her palm. The girl shot him a glare and made to pull him away. Then she paused and looked with embarrassment at the locker room door. The other children were squeaking through, divesting themselves of their ponchos, the blue-furred man overseeing it.
The girl thought for a moment then closed her eyes and squeezed Adam's hand so tight he thought she might bruise it. Still, he was a little sad when she took her hand back a second later to stand at attention.
"Alright," the blue-furred man said, sweeping into the room with a tide of children, some human others decidedly not so, crowding his legs. They took up position behind him, looking doubled in numbers by the mirror. Adam gulped, feeling like he was looking down an army. The blue-furred man looked at the red-haired girl, a sort of resigned disappointment on his face.
"Teela," he shook his head, "who is this?"
Tee-la. Adam mouthed the name.
"He says…" the girl began, "his name is Adam, sir." Adam pulled his hood up as all those eyes settled on him. One new person was fine but so many made him feel nervous. At least the red-haired girl, Teela, was still standing next to him. She made him feel just a little safer.
"And why is Adam in here?" The man asked. Teela opened her mouth to speak and considered the rack of swords. She straightened up and said proudly.
"Sir, I have no idea, sir!" A chorus of laughter rose from the children. It ended at a backwards look from the blue-furred man.
"Don't give me that, Cadet," the man sneered, "you were the only one in here."
"He…he came in after you left, sir," Teela swallowed a little as she spoke.
"She's lying!" A boy with black hair shouted. "Sergeant, Teela always sounds like that when she lies!"
"I'm gonna throw you down the laundry chute, Denny!" Teela snapped at the lad, face twisting up fiercely. "How'd that sound? Cuz that's no lie!"
Everyone, Adam included, covered their ears when the man whistled sharply.
"You lying to me, Cadet Teela?" He asked in the cowed silence.
"I…I don't know why he's here, sir," she hurried to say, "he wasn't doing anything wrong or anything, just…hanging out."
Someone whispered something in the group. Another someone snickered.
"Something to add, Cadet Leo?" A boy with three eyes stepped forward and Adam was too busy staring to try to understand what he was saying.
"Sir," the three-eyed child said, stifling laughter, "I said 'maybe Teela kidnapped him so she could finally have a friend.'" The laughter rolled up again and Adam, not in on the joke, didn't miss the way Teela's eyes softened and how sadly she looked away.
"Leo," the blue-furred man said, "laps. Now. Jon, you were the first one who laughed so you too." The boys complained for a split-second. "Shut it. And leave those ponchos. Real Horde Troopers run through worse than rain. Double time!"
Teela looked no happier as the boys left. But she maintained a steel-spine posture as the blue-furred man fixed his sights on her once more.
"Cadet Teela," he said, grave as the great lord Adam had met days before, "I am gonna ask you one more time. What is this? If I don't feel completely satisfied you tell me the truth you are done in Future Force Captains."
"B-but, sarge, he didn't even do anything!"
"Then I guess," the man said, "he's got nothing to worry about." Teela looked at Adam and there was deep shock in her face that crumbled into misery.
"Sorry, Adam," she whispered quickly.
"Mm?" She'd said 'Sorry'? What for? She looked away, suddenly seeming smaller.
"Ok, sir," Teela mumbled, her authority a distant memory in Adam's mind, "the truth is…"
"Adam," Lonnie said as she rushed into the room, "did those two kids doing laps just come from…" she buried her face in her hands, "…I gotta stop leaving this room apparently."
"Lonnie?" The big man said. "Whatcha doing here, Trooper?" Lonnie did the forehead-hand-thingy again and stood up straight.
"Sir," she looked at the kids nearby, "I…I'm responsible for this kid. His name is Adam."
"I know that much," Blue-Crest said, then got a suspicious glint in his eye, "he wander off from you?" Adam heard Teela murmur like she'd be sick and wanted badly to hold her hand again.
"No, sir," she said, "been in this room since I brought him earlier. Hasn't left."
The blue-furred man turned to glare at Teela.
"I…I was gonna tell you," she said, shrugging and refusing to look at him, "sir, I just-"
"Do Force Captains lie?" The man asked harshly.
"Depends on the Force Captain," Lonnie grumbled, then winced at the man's glare.
"Teela?"
"No, sir." Teela shook her head.
"We'll deal with this later," he said, "Lonnie, out in the hall with me, Trooper. I want to know what this is about." They left Adam and Teela alone in the room.
"You shoulda told the truth!" A tall, maroon-skinned girl with spirally horns snapped. She shoved the other kids away, stomping over to them. She was bigger than Teela and meaner looking too. She loomed over Adam. "Hey, weirdo, you better not get us all in trouble, or else!"
"Ah?" Adam asked. He took a step back and then jumped back when the girl made a fist at him. The kids laughed again.
"Your little buddy's a big fraidy baby, Teela," the horned girl taunted, "what was his name? 'Adam'?"
"A-dumb." Someone jeered. The girl crowded him, then shoved him. He wasn't ready and fell onto the mats. He began to scurry up but the girl shoved him again.
"Grrr!" He tried. The girl sputtered a laugh at him and shoved him down one handed. Teela appeared between them.
"Aww," the horned girl cooed, "he *is* your friend, huh, Teela? That's nice. That makes one, right? No. Not even one. Zero. You've got zero friends, Teela!"
"You're gonna have zero teeth, Karina!" Teela pushed her hard with both hands but the bigger girl didn't budge. Teela didn't have as much luck when she was shoved and clattered backwards into the sword racks.
"Sure," the horned-girl laughed, "hey, come here, Tee-loser. I wanna see if I can make you cry like last time."
"I told you that was just sweat!"
The mean child advanced, Teela tried to stand but her shirt caught on the point of the nearest sword.
"Snap her stupid hairband! That'll make her cry!" A girl yelled. Teela's eyes went huge with fear. Her hands gripped her hairband like it was already in enemy hands. Her boots scuffed the mats as she tried to stand up.
"No! You leave me alone, Karina, or-or else!" The fear in her voice was enough for Adam to understand and he shoved down the venomous coldness of his own fear. They'd forgotten about him and that, he knew from training with Lonnie and the Other One and the dream-warriors, was his advantage. He stood and grabbed for a sword.
"Karina, look out!"One of the other children screamed. The horned-girl turned as Adam swung. His own muscles weren't a fraction of the strength the Other One gave him days before but they didn't need to be. The practice sword hit the girl's nose. She dropped onto her behind, hands clutching her face.
"Adam?" Teela asked, bewildered. Adam took a stance, wobbling a little into place and turned on the crowd across the room. Fight. Fight. That was what they'd all wanted of him.
That was what he'd do.
"Rrrrrrrrrr-RAWR!" He thundered, voice shattering in a high cry. The kids moved back as one and Adam briefly caught sight of something in the mirror. It was a little creature, like the ones that hunted around the Grey Castle at night, the kind that the Other One chased away. A beast in purple fur, eyes killer-blue and hidden behind wild hair under a shadowy hood. Its teeth were bared in a snarl and its hand held a sword overhead…with blood on the blade!
"Ah!" Adam dropped his weapon and rushed to the horned-girl on the ground. He touched her hands and got kicked in the stomach for his trouble.
"Tha-aah-hah-that was a dirty trick!" The girl's voice hiccupped. She tried to glare through her tears, one hand pressed to her bleeding nostrils. "You…you better-…ow! Ow-ow-ow!"
"Karina!" a tan human girl with black hair pressed free of the crowd and hugged her, "Karina, it's ok. Don't cry. Tilt your head back."
"I'm nnnnn-ot," the horned-girl sobbed. She buried her face into her friends shoulder, getting blood on her white shirt. The black-haired human didn't care. She pressed her cheek to her friend's scalp, unafraid of the spiraling horns and glared at Adam.
"You leave her alone! That wasn't fair!"
"Yeah," a child shouted from the crowd, "yeah that was cheap!"
"How'd you like it if someone hit you with a sword?"
"I bet he's from Squad 90! They always take things too far!"
Adam turned to look at Teela for help understanding what was going on. He was heartbroken to find her watching him with a caution that hadn't been there even when he'd surprised her earlier.
"Teela?" He asked.
"He's WHAT?!" The whole room jumped except the two girls hugging in the middle of it all, focused on no-one but the other person they were comforting and being comforted by. "In there! WITH MY KIDS THIS WHOLE TIME?!" The man moved so fast through the door he ducked under it before it cleared the way. Lonnie was squeezing in behind him.
"Sir, he's harmless! And I -oh for the love of…Adam!" Adam's hands began to twist the teeth of his tunic as Lonnie rushed to stand before him. "Kiiid, I can't leave you alone for five minutes!?"
"Karina," the man was on one knee, voice strained, "stop tilting your head back, you're getting blood down your throat. Sit up, Cadet, you ok?"
"Y-yes, s-sir." The girl hiccupped.
"Course you are, you're one of my kids. You're tough. Maya, take her to the bathroom and just keep giving her towels. Don't tilt her head back, hear me?" The black-haired girl nodded and did the forehead-touch. So did the girl with the bloody nose. "Good. Go to work, soldier." He rose. "The rest of you outside, in formation. Yesterday!"
The Cadets all rushed to obey. Teela rose from the floor and side-stepped Adam.
"Teela?" he said quietly after her. The man called her name as well.
"You ok, soldier?" he asked. Teela nodded wordlessly, still a little dazed. "That's my girl. Hey, we're still gonna talk about you lying to me. Go on. Outside." She left without even a look in Adam's direction. Adam watched the door, jittery as his adrenaline left him, until a blue hand snapped its fingers in his face.
"You stay away from my kids," the man snarled, "you little monster. Stay. Away!" 'Monster'. He understood that now. Monster. He thought of how he'd looked in the mirror.
"Please," Lonnie said, "Sarge, it's my fault. Adam doesn't know."
"Oh, I'm not forgetting you!" He whirled, finger a centimeter from Lonnie's nose. "Way beyond dangerous leaving something like this alone! He's got magic to rival a Princess and you just mosey off to go grab lunch?"
"I locked the door!"
"Don't," he growled, "don't even try defending yourself. This is a disgrace, Lonnie, to everything I ever taught you."
"I am following orders."
"Orders said this room at this time? Orders said leave the hostile alone while you go grab a bite?"
"You know they didn't," Lonnie's face was trembling with emotion, "and its not my fault if one kid tries to push another one around-"
"That's not a kid," Adam shrank back as the man pointed at him. "That thing? Whatever it is, it is NOT like those kids outside. It never will be." He glared at Adam. "You understand that? Stay away. They got a future. You?" The man looked at him with open disgust. "You got five days." He turned on his heel. Adam looked at himself in the mirror.
"Mmmmm," he mumbled, "mm-monster."
So that was the reason Catra left.
That was the reason they all hated him.
"Oh," he said, rubbing at a stray tear, "oh."
As the door slid closed behind her old sergeant, Lonnie tried not to punch the nearest wall. She turned a glare ready for the kid and stopped short. Adam hadn't moved. He was frozen in his spot, big eyes welling up with tears. Lonnie normally liked to believe she was a tough soldier who didn't hesitate.
She blew air between her teeth and crossed her arms.
"Adam," she said, "the sword." Adam nodded sadly and retrieved his weapon, barely touching it as if it would burn him as he walked it back to the racks. "No Adam."
"No?" he asked. She motioned him to the center of the room and got a sword of her own. His face scrunched up. "No."
"Yes, little man," Lonnie said, "train. You feel sad? Train. You feel good? Train. You train and train and train. And you," she gestured at him with her sword, "need training more than anybody in this place." Adam looked at the door again and Lonnie poked him in the belly with her sword. He growled weakly at her. "You're dead. Come on. Let's focus."
It was bitter work and Adam was moodier than usual through it, but Lonnie made him go through the paces all the same. When they'd finished for the day, and Adam had scarfed his latest supplement bar, Lonnie led him back to his cell. He went quietly and that disturbed her.
"Adam," she said to him as she sat on the edge of his cot, "hey, you ok?"
"Monster," he said, pointing at himself and then the room. "Catra…"
"Hey," Lonnie tried a smile, "when I was little like you, I woulda loved people being scared of me. Monsters aren't so bad here, Adam… some of them run this place." The boy shrugged and Lonnie sighed, then gave a little pat on his shoulder. "Get some sleep, kid, it'll all seem farther away in the morning. Okay?" She stepped out onto the prison barge and brooded for a moment.
There was a burst of red lightning from the control console that sent her jumping backwards to the very railing of the barge.
"I do not need this right now," she growled, grabbing the railing as the barge lurge downwards for a horrible second, "uh…hey! Anybody give me a hand?"
"Don't be quite so loud, my dear," the voice rose and fell in waves from the darkness surrounding the barge, Lonnie's teeth clicked together against a scream, "I hope the boy hasn't been too much trouble?" A shape took form in the middle of the barge.
The white eyes gave it some definition but the shape only resembled Shadow Weaver in the loosest possible sense. The living shadow floated closer to her and Lonnie very seriously considered hurling herself off the barge and trusting in fate.
"Ma'am," she swallowed, "I don't understand what this is."
"A projection," there was a slight twinge of annoyance in her distorted voice, "nothing all that strange, Lonnie. Lord Hordak has seen to clarify his instructions with me. I am to stay well away from the brig until the child's trials are over."
"Shadow Weaver," Lonnie cleared her throat and clicked her heels together, "the problem today was my fault. Sgt. Blue-Crest-"
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're referring to," Shadow Weaver's projection managed a realistically dismissive wave of a shadow appendage, "and it is beside the point. I have 'met' with you now for matters relating to the boy's test of strength."
Oh, is that what we're calling it? Lonnie nodded even as she thought the words.
"Warden Kronis has chosen his champion."
Lonnie's grip on the railing tightened.
"I see," Lonnie nodded, screwing up her confidence, "Adam can handle them, ma'am." The breaking, static noise from projection justified itself as disturbing laughter.
"Indeed," Shadow Weaver said, "either way…I felt it best to show you what you're up against."
"But…I thought there was no interference?" Lonnie could've smacked her forehead into the metal railing of the barge. She was not about to try and lecture Shadow Weaver.
"Kronis knows the boy. Why shouldn't you know the boy's enemy? We descend now. Rather rapidly. I wish to avoid this detour appearing like anything other than a brief malfunction."
Brief is good, Lonnie thought. She kept her breathing even as the barge went down and down and down into the Prison's every narrowing depths. The cells became sparser and less populated as they went.
"What do you know of the War for the Sea of Sighs?" Lonnie almost had to laugh. This was about her worst nightmare come true. Shadow Weaver. Crushing darkness. And a history quiz, all at once.
"Uh…it was a long time ago, ma'am," Lonnie offered, digging through her brain for any information, "the Horde won."
"Not without fierce resistance," Shadow Weaver's projection said, the barge entered the deepest parts of the abyss. LEVEL ZERO was declared in peeling white spray-paint on walls of bare, aged concrete. Lonnie unclipped the flashlight from her belt as the barge banked slowly to a yawning circular aperture labeled 0-1.
It was enormous, easily twenty feet high and sealed off with bars thick as ancient tree-trunks. A small slot had been added to admit the barge.
"Ma'am?" she asked. Shadow Weaver's projection turned to regard her with its shimmering white eyes.
"There is an archipelago a few days south into the sea. It sits along the curve of the Sighing Trade Winds, an ancient route for the sailing ships of Etheria. These are called, in the language of the people who lived there, 'The Gift of the First Mother'. Named after a leviathan creature from the youngest days of our planet. Her children yet still live on those islands." A dark, condescending chuckle. "At least... that is the myth. They are called the Karikoni."
The barge entered a man-made cavern of concrete and Lonnie's nose and ears were stormed with water. An unseen waterfall roared into the space and kicked up the odor of mildew in stinking, cold gales of mist. The lights roved over a rippling surface of water black as oil. Mighty, rectangular pillars rose up from the roiling surface, holding up an enormous ceiling.
"Warriors of the ocean," the projection went on, whispering now but still so very clear in her ears, "each one of them possesses claws powerful enough to pierce the hull of a Horde attack ship. And together, armed with little else but these claws, they rallied behind their war-leader and threatened a navy of steel ships and laser weapons. No, there isn't much history to our war with them Lonnie…the Horde does not dwell on failures."
There was a heavy sucking splash from below them that made Lonnie gasp. It was the falls sending out an eddy of water, that was all it could be. There was no way something was living down here in this place of utter darkness.
"But…we won?" Lonnie flicked the flashlight on for comfort, the beam was pointless in such darkness. "Didn't we?"
Another eddy announced itself…closer to the barge this time.
"Eventually," the projection approached her, "but only after we captured and isolated the worst among them. Your teachers may have left out the cost of this mission; a frigate-class vessel. I am not beholden to rumors, but some soldiers claim he did it all alone." She pointed an intangible finger over the edge of the barge, "and for thirty years he's languished down here in these lightless waters. Look. Behold the fate of our enemies. The fate of the Karikoni."
A sound moaned out through the huge hall, twisting and mutating around the pillars and against the crushing surface of the water. It was almost inquisitive. An eddy swirled below them, and gallons of water fell like sheets of rain off of something enormous.
And then the claw swung into view. Looking gray in the dim light. A giant, shelled crustacean's appendage that could've snapped Warden Trapjaw in two. The claw made her imagination run wild as she pictured how big it must have been. And then the Karikoni roared in fury and flexed its pincer once, filling the cavern with a snap like a tension wire breaking.
The sounds of its speech were watery, foaming hisses and thundering howls of rage. Lonnie couldn't move. She couldn't move an inch from horror.
"Be respectful, my dear, you are in the presence of royalty. The warrior prince of the oceans. I still remember the sight of him when they took him in chains to Lord Hordak. His shell is decorated with images of his victories." Shadow Weaver hummed. "Oh, the poor thing is likely starving. The Warden doesn't feed him nearly enough. Could anyone feed a creature so large?"
"He can't…he can't make Adam fight that…"
"You will say nothing to anyone about this, Lonnie." Shadow Weaver's projection hissed. "I show you only so you may understand how prepared the boy must be…stranger things have happened than a child surviving a fight with a monster. Make sure the boy doesn't run, or freeze up with terror. Make him ready to face down something so horrid. So long as he is, I have a good feeling about his chances." Something in her voice touched the back of Lonnie's neck and made her think of the dark whispers that had haunted her since the fight in Horde Square.
Shadows are everywhere, Lonnie, the shadows had hissed in her mind, they're coming for you. And no one will find you this time. No one will save you. You will be trapped in the dark, forever. Her mind sharpened briefly, then dispersed in a cloud of past anxieties, mistakes, and fears.
That voice had made her remember the crate. Trying to stow-away on the skiff when she was eight. She remembered an eternity in the dark, kicking her little boots against the wood and screaming for someone to help her. The flashlight provided her a solid anchor to the moment. It kept her from breaking down completely.
"We shouldn't torment the poor thing," the barge banked away as the claw snapped again and the Karikoni thundered its displeasure. The barge rose and Lonnie watched the lights reappear and pass dimly by.
"Now, rest, my dear," Shadow Weaver said, "You understand your mission. We have only four days until the boy faces his doom." She vanished like a fevered nightmare.
Lonnie docked at the bridge and walked like a living corpse back to her barracks.
She stood in front of her bunk and came back to herself. Her feet disappeared from beneath her and her breath came in huge gulps that still didn't give her nearly enough air.
"He's got no chance," she wheezed, "he's got no chance!" She slapped herself hard. "Get it together! Get. It. Together." She focused on training. When you're scared you train. That's how it was in the Horde.
She did sit-ups, sweat pouring down her braids, and the lights turned on in every corner of the barracks. Her mind would not stop replaying the sight of the giant pincer and the snap of its impact.
Monsters love the dark, Lonnie, the dark thing from Horde Square had taunted her, You can't fight them. Not if you can't see them. And they're always there… just out of reach… waiting for someone to stumble into their grasp.
She did not sleep that night. Not even when her exhaustion had pinned her to the barracks floor.
"Happy Fifteenth Birthday, Pr-"
"Go away," Adora growled, curled up resolutely on the floor, "I'm not in the mood, okay?"
"Very well," the dream-warrior said, "tomorrow is a new day, Prince Adam, get some rest."
"Whatever," she muttered, cheek squished against the cold stone. The pressure and the gritty feeling vanished seconds later, leaving her alone in the dark dreamscape. "Ooooh, *tomorrow is a new day*...pfft."
Adora lay there for a moment sulking and miserable, mind rotating around the idea that she...that She-Ra... might not be everything she'd been told. She'd asked Bow and Glimmer, delicately as she could, if there were any discrepancies in the legends of the warrior woman. 'None' had been the gist of their answers.
Glimmer had been brooding the whole time. Sweet Bee's reply to her formal invitation to join the Princess Alliance had not sounded promising. Bow had strangely clammed up after Adora had asked after the book by those two Whispering Woods people she'd read about.
"He's from there," she groused to the black void, "I figured he'd know them. Maybe that's not polite? Maybe that's why he seemed so off." She rolled over on the nothing around her and sighed at the nothing overhead. "Still can't do anything right, Adora…"
That feeling crushed in on her, harder and harder until it pressed her lungs down to squeeze a few tears out of her eyes. She felt terrible. She felt like all of her negativity had just multiplied.
"Come on," she whined, "let me get some sleep? Please? I already feel like garbage." She rolled over and found herself staring into the morose face of a small child. Her surprise seemed to trigger something in the child, who looked up and gasped in fright. They both screamed.
"Who? Who are… W-Wait!" She reached out as the boy began to turn tail and flee, grasping at the edge of a strange piece of clothing covered in bristly purple fur. "Don't go!"
The figure had vanished but Adora felt, deeply, as if the thought was taking root from a source outside her own mind, a wary, watchful caution. She sat up and looked around carefully.
"Hello? Are you still here...? Please come out?" The outsider made no reply but she sensed -almost felt it herself- the feeling of flared caution and the small figure straying away from her. "Aw. What's the point?" The glum defeat in her reached out and curled around the outsider emotion.
"...of even recording these anymore?" Adora turned around and slumped forward as she found the dream-warrior returned, in the middle of the sparring room. The man wore no helmet and his proud face was drawn with weariness. He sat on a crate, turning a longsword over in his hands. "You'll never see them. You'll probably never know about any of this…any of us."
"I said I didn't wanna train today," Adora grumbled, "or tonight.. or whatever... Ugh. Why am I talking to you? You're probably some kind of stress-induced psychosis."
"We wouldn't start training you in the real arts of war right away," he sighed, not heeding Adora at all, "not until you were fifteen. Such an important day. I can picture it in my mind." He shut his eyes and shook his head. "It's so painful to imagine now."
"Hey! She-Ra!" Adora called to him, "Eternia! Adora! She-Ra! Etheria! Adora! UGH! What are you even?!"
"Ah!" That voice was small, young-sounding and most certainly not coming from the man in front of her. She craned her neck around trying to find the source.
"Hello?"
"I wanted to train you like I was trained. You train the mind first and then the body. Become a person before you become a warrior." Adora's attention became split between the two dream-persons sharing her world. The outsider's emotions had shifted to curiosity. "That's the way. The Way of Warriors, as it's been taught for ages here."
"The Way of Warriors?" Adora turned, ready to spring if the dream-child returned. "What does that mean? Where is here?!"
"This place," the man rose to his feet and looked around the room, at the dummies and obstacle course, "it was built long before. In a time that was so much darker, smaller, meaner than...well...who says we've gotten any better?" He sighed. "Are we? Should we be here if it is? Wouldn't all the… all the people we lost still be here if this really was a better world?"
"Etheria?" Adora scooted closer, legs crossed as she tried to memorize everything.
"It shouldn't fall to you," the man growled suddenly, anger tensing him, "it can't keep being the children who fix our mistakes!" He turned to her. "So...I'm going away, my prince, or...I'm going to become something else. Something that can protect you. But...I'll...I don't know if I'd like what I'll become." Adora gasped to see his hands trembling. "If I'll remain who I am, or become something... monstrous..."
"Monster," a child's voice said, sniffling a little, "monster…" Adora froze and turned her head the barest inch to her left. The dream-child sat next to her, barely observed. She couldn't see them fully and dared not move, lest she frighten them. The boy's feelings were palpable in her mind, as strong and easy to read as her own. They were full of the same misery she'd felt earlier. Inward-facing, hurtful, and so impossible to throw away. She knew it well.
"Ahem," the warrior coughed, "where was I? Ah, yes." He gestured around him. "In your home, at the palace, we would've trained in a room that was circular. The floor, where we spared, would've been ringed by a red circle. The Circle of Honor." Adora perked up.
For the Honor of Grayskull. The words puzzled her now more than ever.
"It's not just a place to fight, you see," the man smiled, "it's...it's the way I was taught. Honor is a circle, my prince. It begins with you and it returns to you." The warrior stared longingly at the sword in his hand. "Even if it returns and you lose the people you love...if it returns with disgrace...with uncertainty...the Circle of Honor begins again with *you* every time. It can only begin again if you choose it."
Adora found herself thinking of Catra. Of the look on her face when she'd chosen She-Ra. The Rebellion. Bow and Glimmer. The pain coursed through her again and hollowed her out as she felt, like the loss of a limb, the absence of her best friend.
"Why couldn't you come with me?" She said to herself, emotion driving the words out. "Why didn't you see? I had to. I had to change and I had to become…" Liar. Murderer. Tyrant. The accusations in the photographs hurtled through her brain, "...I had to follow my destiny."
"I hope I've made the right choices," the dream-warrior said, "I hope I haven't made this a worse world. But most of all," he sighed, "somedays I wish the Circle of Honor never came back around to me, and I could be a straight-line heading towards the horizon. Never doubting." The man sighed. "Enough. Stop recording." He vanished. Adora turned slowly to the dream-child, still staring sullenly into nothing.
"Sooo are you...my inner child or something?" she asked softly.
The child yipped and began to scooch away from her.
"No, please!" she said, keeping her emotions calm, "Please. I won't hurt you." The child drew up their strange hood, then pulled long blonde hair across their face. Shaking their head and pointing at themselves. She felt it again, the strange feeling of his thoughts mixing with hers. "You...you don't want to hurt me?"
"Monster," the child whispered. Adora snorted a laugh and the boy protested. "Mmm!"
"S-sorry," she said, "I just...you're a little tiny for a monster. And... you don't seem so bad to me." The child revealed a hopeful blue-eye. Adora moved closer, slowly, until she was next to them again. "So.. are you supposed to be me? You look like me, well, sorta... My guess is you're not a part of this training, uh, 'recording.' You're just a normal dream. Right?"
Confusion pushed into her mind, and she felt the child trying to piece together her words.
"I dunno what you are. But I'm glad you're here with me… Glad I'm not alone in an empty room by myself. Is that what it's going to be like for now on? If I don't wanna spend the night training, I'll just spend it alone in this room for hours? Great."
Confusion. Uncertainty. A growing nervousness. The boy's emotions did not communicate that he understood. She sighed. And leaned back on her palms. She considered the dream-child again.
"So what makes you think you're a monster? Well, I guess I should be asking myself that."
"Umm…" the boy hummed, twiddling the bones on his tunic with fidgeting fingers. She felt his shame. The shame of a brash choice.
"If what I read in the library is true… She-Ra could be a real monster if she wanted to be. She's unstoppable. But everyone says She-Ra is the hero. What if they're wrong? I gave everything up to do this, a-and I don't regret it! Bow and Glimmer were right about the Horde! But.. if being She-Ra means I'm gonna end up the same way… If she's not any better? What do I do then? Everyone's counting on me to be She-Ra..." Adora waited for the boy to respond, then became lost in her thoughts as she pondered what she'd do next.
"Ca-tra…" Came a little whimper from her side. She looked down at him and saw he'd curled up into a ball, his chin resting on both knees. His feelings wormed into Adora's head and finished the thought: Where's Catra? I miss her… Adora made a long, exhausted sigh, then smiled before stifling a giggle.
"Really gave yourself away there, pal. Now I know you're me." The boy looked up, suddenly warry again, like he expected her to launch into a scolding.
"Don't feel bad. She made her choice. It doesn't make sense, I know, but… It's okay to miss her. Just give it more time. Things will get better. They have to, right?" Either because of confusion or disappointment, the boy did not seem moved by this train of thought. He hid his face between his legs and repeated himself. Catra.
"Yea... That line didn't work on me when I was awake, either." She slouched forward, held her own legs and mirrored the boy for a moment. An idea popped in her head.
"Hey. You want a hug?"
"Ah?" The boy looked to her as she mimed encircling someone with her arms.
"Hug. Y'know… a hug. They make you feel better. They make me feel better, at least... Okay, you probably already knew that since you *are* me, right?" she scratched her ear, "Or… like, a… 'side' of me maybe? My inner boyhood? Whatever. Hug?" She held her arms out. "C'mooon. We'll hug it out." The child rose, fingers playing small teeth on their purple tunic ever more furiously. They came forward, very slow, standing almost shorter than her even though she was sitting down.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Or… even what I'm supposed to be. Everything with She-Ra just makes me more and more confused. But...I wanna believe I can still tell right from wrong. And it's not wrong to give someone a hug when they need one. So. C'mere."
"Um?" The child was a shy little thing and her heart melted at his indecision. He spread his arms, mimicking her. She gestured for him to get closer.
He came within arm's length and Adora touched his shoulders, first one then the other when he tensed. The boy touched her shoulders in response. She drew the dream-child in and pressed her cheek to the side of the hood, smelling baking powder and the old lavender wash she used in the Horde. Briefly she meditated on how weird dreams could be sometimes.
"Oh," the child said softly, a smile tinging his voice. "Oh. Hug." The boy's realization touched her mind, then turned into warm comfort and safety. She quietly laughed as the tiny arms around her shoulders squeezed with surprising strength. "Mmm."
"Yeah," she said, "hugs are nice, right?" The strange twinning of her emotions, as a flood of feelings threatened to overwhelm her. Feelings of shelter, as if embracing the child was growing a mighty fortress around her. Her worries were locked outside its gates and would gain no entry. "We're gonna get through this, okay? I promise. We aren't monsters. Not yet… and we're not gonna change that way."
"Deal?" The boy leaned back in her arms and stared right at her as he awaited an answer. She laughed again. He looked so goofy when his eyes were so wide, and all the sadness had left his face.
"Deal."
The dream-child hugged her again, this time better with practice. He was a heavy weight in her arms, real as everything else she experienced in this strange place, and as the waking world reclaimed her, she found herself tightly hugging one of her pillows. She frowned, already missing the strange effect the dream had on her.
"Why is it so much easier to comfort myself when I pretend I'm someone else?" She sighed. She hugged her pillow again. Not the same. "Oh well. Unpack that later, I guess. Sweet dreams, inner-me."
Adam frowned as his eyes flickered open in his cell, disappointed the dream-lady wasn't there with him anymore. She'd been so nice. She even reminded him of Catra. 'Hug.' He liked that word. It had been much easier to learn than 'fight'.
Editor's Note:
Dear readers, the author and I thought it appropriate to announce that we'll be taking a temporary hiatus soon.
The story we've uploaded thus far had all been drafted for a while and we've been punching it up as we've uploaded, but we're out of road now so we need to take a break and write out more of the story before we can start uploading again.
We don't want you all to interpret the sudden radio silence as us abandoning the story, but also we can't give a return date, so we hope you'll bear with us as we get more of the story ironed out for you. It has been so so fun to write this story, and to see everyone's response to it, so we can't wait for this hiatus to give us a chance to dig deeper into the narrative we've built, and we hope you all stick around to enjoy this story with us.
We'll be uploading another two or three chapters before the Hiatus hits, and once it does we'll announce that it's officially on.
Hope you're all still as safe and sound as possible, and that you stay that way.