The Power of Grayskull

by TheH8fulM8s

The words had always been there. When little Adam raised his sword and said them he became something strong enough to survive alone in Eternia's wastelands. But one day he arrived on Etheria, a place full of life and strangers. Everyone here seems to want something from him, but he only wants his newfound sister, Force Captain Catra. For her, he'll do anything. (S1 Canon Divergent)

19. Fear Itself

Chapter 19: Fear Itself

"Oh my," Shadow Weaver tittered to the bowl of water she was talking to, "how very cruel you are, my dear. The poor thing is wandering the libraries like a mad-woman!" She fell into a fit of laughter. "Oh, it does my heart good to see you tormenting those stuffy old fools."

Shadow Weaver's voice set Adam's teeth grinding together in fury. She'd hurt Catra. She'd…made Catra mad at him somehow! She was so mean. She was so awful! She was the worst person in the world and Adam wanted to be as far away from her as he possibly could.

He wanted to sleep too. He was soooo tired. And hungry. The sweet tasting fruit she'd given himhad been hours ago. His stomach convulsed on itself, moaning for food. The slightly annoyed scoff he heard meant Shadow Weaver knew as well. He shivered a little as she looked at him.

Calm. The Other One urged, distant and weak. Stay calm.

White eyes drilled into him and her clammy hands dripped water as she removed them from the stone bowl. He could still feel her fingernails on his stomach or over his heart. She'd poked and prodded him all day long. His eyes strayed to the door. Catra still wasn't back.

Why would she leave him here like this? His heart ached. He must've been really bad.

"I suppose I must escort you back to your barracks, now?" Adam looked up hopefully at the word 'barracks'.

"Home?" he asked.

"Yes, little monkey," Shadow Weaver said, "back to your bed." She moved to the doorway and considered the broken panel with a heavy sigh. "I've only myself to blame for this damage. But…" she glanced at Adam and the huge shadow guarding the Black Garnet slowly rematerialized, "only a fool would dare invade this chamber tonight." She held out her hand to Adam, flicking the robes back from her wrist. "We depart at once."

Adam crept over and, slowly, reached out to take her hand. She snatched his wrist and wrenched him into the hallway to drive him before her by the sheer weight of her glaring eyes.

"It is very late," she hissed, "you must be hungry? Well. We aren't stopping for food. That is Catra's responsibility. Which she seems to be ignoring."

"Catra," Adam whispered quietly. He glanced around them, hoping to catch the outline of a pointed ear or the flickering of a feline tail. Aside from the few soldiers they passed, each of whom stopped and saluted to Shadow Weaver, they saw no sign of anyone. The night-moons were out, like three pale pebbles in a stagnant pool of black water.

"Your little deception was adorable in a way," Shadow Weaver said as they drew closer to the barracks, "a child's attempt at intrigue. Precious." He could hear mockery in her voice and growled softly. "And foolish. I do not appreciate being lied to in the least. Never do it again."

"Mmm," Adam rubbed at his eye, yawning. His stomach grumbled again when they reached the barracks doors. Shadow Weaver shoved him forward as the doors opened.

"Sleep," she said, "we have more work to do tomorrow. I'll be busy this evening…but I should have everything wrapped up in time for our next lesson." She turned, hair tumbling in an ebony waterfall down her back. He wanted to growl at her. He wanted to do something that made him feel like he wasn't totally helpless.

"Adam," she said, stopping at the edges of the hall's shadows and turning to regard him with one pale eye. His blood turned to red ice in his veins. "I do hope you have pleasant dreams this night. To make up for your trying day." Adam backed slowly into the barracks, breathing again when the door slid shut. He turned to find the room dark and quiet save for the slightest sounds of sleep all around him.

A shape stirred on the second bunk on the left. Lonnie sat up.

"Finally," he heard her yawn, "hey, kid, got something for you."

"Shut it," Marg growled from the back of the room. Lonnie shook her head, loose braids framing her face in the dark. She tossed a shape to Adam and he caught it in mid-air. A ration-bar.

"Thhh-th-aaaaa-n-k-k…" he began.

"Shut it!" Marg snapped. Two voices hissed at Marg and the barracks quieted down once more. Lonnie turned over in her bunk and Adam sat down on his own. He kicked off his boots and peeled his socks away with his toes. He unclipped the bones of his tunic and pressed it between the sheet and thin blanket. He didn't need it for warmth anymore. Nor did he need it for a pillow. But its presence and smell comforted him.

His clingy shirt went last. When he pressed into the nook at the head of his bunk, the cold metal made him shiver. He ate as his heat leeched into it and let his eyes adjusted to the new darkness. He wanted to dream of the Scorpion Princess again. That had been a good dream. Maybe if he reached deep down he could find it again, even if the Black Garnet's magic was gone.

He'd finished half his food and started to see the little drawings on the wall next to him when he began to doze off. He slid into his bunk, wrapped his arms tight around his tunic and buried his face into the rough hide. Missing his cub. Missing Catra. Searching for a dream.

Bow pushed open the huge wooden door, wincing at the way the old hinges creaked. The library beyond was darker than dark. Huge shelves towered towards a ceiling lost in the high shadows of the night.

"Maybe she's not here," Bow said in an instinctual whisper, "maybe she went for a walk or something? To relax."

"Oh, yeah," Glimmer rolled eyes, "Adora would totally just go chill out. Get real, Bow. Adora's so uptight if you asked her to hold a piece of coal she'd give you back a diamond." A ball of soft pastel-pink light appeared in her hand and rose to hover above them. "She's shut inside that stupid room with all the old relics. Probably lost track of time." Glimmer pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is ridiculous. I really am starting to worry about her."

"Hey," Bow said, patting her shoulder, "Adora is just looking for answers, Glim." He hunched his shoulders and dropped his voice lower. "It's gotta be hard leaving behind your home and the people you grew up with and just…jumping into some new role."

"And Adora," Glimmer sighed, "who throws herself into everything like it's a blood-feud would do anything to fulfill that role. I learned a few things listening to you." She elbowed him playfully when he grinned. "Tell anybody I said that I'll-"

"Drop me into Lake Brightmoon?" She pulled on one of his shoulders and noogied him.

"Let's find our friend," Glimmer said, "smart boy, then let's get some sleep."

"Yes, Commander," Bow saluted, "mine is not to reason why. Mine is but to do and die." Glimmer giggled and began to say something to the effect of 'Princess Commander to you' when she flinched.

"Ouch!" The light she'd cast extinguished itself and the world went dark, Bow put one hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin under his palm. She began to spit fire. "What wise-guy just smacked me with a counter-spell?! Come on out! Let's have a chat!"

"Glimmer!" Bow said, feeling the emptiness of the immense library around him. So many unseen corners. Vacant rooms where anything could be lurking. Hidden places from which to watch passerby. The hair on his nape stood up.

"Fading," a weak, wizened voice said from the shadows, "no more light. Too strong. It's all fading." A figure lost in shadow fumbled a handful of books to floor five paces in front of them. They hit the floor like cannonballs, so silent was the library. "The books! Our past! Our knowledge! All gone!"

"Who are you! Show yourself!" Glimmer snarled, pink irises sparkling with power. Bow's hands tensed to grab at his weapons, but he calmed himself and stepped forward. He took a searching hand in his own and heard a woman gasp.

"Archivist Nadiya?" his voice grew loud in his disbelief. Another ball of light formed in Glimmer's hand and showed him the woman's face drawn with terror. She shrieked at even the soft light of Glimmer's spell.

"No light! No light!" Her hand broke free from Bow's and doused Glimmer's light with a waggle of her fingers, still covered by silk gloves. Glimmer snarled furiously.

"Quit it, you old bat!"

"Glimmer," Bow admonished her sharply, "she's terrified. We need to help her." There was a noise deeper in the labyrinth of bookshelves. An ascending movement, creaking up the wooden shelves, shuffling books and knocking them to the floor by the dozen. The climbing sounds were many, but rhythmic. His senses assured him something with eight huge legs was scuttling up to the area above them. In the same instance he heard, beyond the shelves behind him, a soft, eager panting. The tic-tic of bare claws on tiles.

His life in the Whispering Woods had taught him many bizarre sounds but these were strange. Too perfect. Too well choreographed. That fact did not lessen his fear.

What do you do when your senses lie to you? The thought was so intrusive, so bitterly hopeless that he couldn't quite believe it was his own.

"No! No!" Nadiya cawed suddenly, stumbling off into the dark. "The relics! Save the relics! Our history!"

"What is with her?" Glimmer snapped, cautiously relighting her spell.

"She fears the beginning of a new Dark Age," a voice hissed from overhead. The rebels turned upwards, a net-arrow nocked in his Com-bow before he realized he'd drawn it. "All this knowledge gone forever. Like it never existed." Nadiya wailed from further in the stacks, the sound chilled them both.

"You feel it?" The voice was at their feet and they jumped, searching an empty floor. "Her terror is leaping to your hearts. Your brain is acting on old instincts from a time before time. Hearts racing." The words made Bow aware of his heartbeat. "Minds reeling. What now?"

"Ok," Glimmer yelled, angry and defiant, "get out here before I get really mad!"

Fight? The voice was in Bow's head this time, indistinguishable from his own thoughts.

"Glimmer?" He drew the arrow slightly, feeling the beginning of the bowstring's tension.

Flee?

"Bow, we have to find Adora!" Glimmer's footsteps echoed away suddenly, and he gave chase, rounding several corners in the dark. For a moment he heard her cry out to him in surprise…from back the way he'd come. He turned in time to see her light spell extinguish.

"Knock it off!" Glimmer's voice pierced the air from far away..

"Bow, please," Glimmer said at his shoulder, "what's going on?" Then she laughed in his ear, her voice pitching deeper and deeper until it was a drumbeat in his head. Bow let his net-arrow clatter to the floor and plucked one of its broad-headed siblings out to replace it. As he lifted it, nocked but not drawn, a beam cast a small circle of white on the towering bookshelf near him. His flash-light arrow was like a small candle in a sunless cave

"Glimmer! Find Adora and then get out!" He shouted.

"Glimmer," his voice yelled from somewhere else, disorienting him, "don't listen! Just stay there! Something's trying to trick you! Stay there!"

"What?" Glimmer warbled a little, fear creeping in as understanding asserted itself.

"Stop it," Bow hissed at the darkness around him, searching with his light. Between the shelves he saw a figure shift in the next aisle. He crept forward and shut out the whispering in his head. Every instinct was telling him to run for his life and find a well-lit place. He flicked off his light and all at once the whispering became soft, sneering commentary.

He knows how to fight. What would his fathers say? Bow's heart sank. It...knew. And as that realization him another voice hissed.

He's been lying to them all this time. They love him and he's lied to them. He moved on towards the end of the shelves. And not just them. Adora and Glimmer. They trust him so much. And he lies with every breath.

"Stop it," he said, the voices hushed like eavesdroppers caught in the act. The thought was still in his head, growing in the guilty part of his mind. He turned the corner, breathed out quietly when he saw the figure was still there and drew his arrow til the fletching brushed his cheek. He flicked on the light.

His heart leapt into his throat.

"Dad?" he asked. Lance flinched at the harsh light and drew backwards. The pince-nez perched on his nose flashed a white glare, his sandals scraped on the floor. He looked exactly as he had in the late summer, when Bow had last seen him, except for an indigo traveling robe.

"Oh!" Lance squeaked. "I hope I didn't frighten you! I just can't seem to find my way out. I was looking for the…" he dipped his head, trying to see past the light, too polite to scold whoever was blinding him, "…I…Bow?"

His name, spoken in that astonished, uncomprehending tone, had been the nightmare of his life for years. Now it was happening. For a moment Bow felt a sense of utter relief, like an ulcer had suddenly vanished from his stomach. The long charade was over and the lies could finally stop. George would know too. Then Glimmer and Adora. They'd all know the truth and maybe they could forgive him.

A tide of dread began to drown his thoughts. Lance would cry. Glimmer would be hurt beyond belief. George? George would be silent with his anger. Adora wouldn't know what was going on and the thought of explaining it all twice to her…

"Bow," Lance said, urgently, "son, if you could move the light out of my face, please?"

"Dad," Bow said, sniffling a little as he lowered his arrow, "what are you doing here?"

"Beat me to it," Lance said, "Mystacoar has a good collection for reference material. But you, Bow, should be at the Academy unless…is this a school trip of some kind?"

The urge to lie reared up inside him. So tempting. So easy. No painful conversations. No choosing between being their son and Glimmer's best friend. Between a secluded life and a dangerous war. It was someone else's problem far in the future. He stepped forward, putting on a character.

"Yeah!" he said. "Uh…quick study trip overnight and-"

"Bow," Lance's voice was soft, "is that…armor?" The heart on his chest-piece glowed accusingly in the light of his arrow. Lance's voice became scared. "Is that a weapon?!" He blinked owlishly at his son. "Are those…w-where are your glasses?" He glanced down. "Where's your shirt?"

"I can explain," Bow offered, his voice hollow, "I can explain, I swear."

"Bow!" Glimmer called. Lance leapt into the air like he'd seen a mouse scurry by. "Bow, please…say something I'm still over here."

"Who in the world," Lance turned, squinting into the dark, "Bow, is there someone else here now too?" Bow was trying his hardest not to cry. Glimmer was terrified. Lance knew the truth. They'd meet and it would be too much. Too awful to believe.

Too awful to believe, Bow clung to the thought and his emotions shifted. His cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. His teeth clenched with anger. He drew his bowstring taut and leveled an arrow at his father.

"Bow?" Lance asked, not quite believing what was in front of him. "Son. We can talk about it. Whatever it is. You know I love y-"

"Shut your mouth right this minute," he spat out, "what are you?"

"Bow," Lance backed away, "please…please calm down."

"Lance isn't here," Bow said, "you're just pretending."

"Maybe he's in good company," said a voice from the darkness. A shorter man stepped out, hazel eyes wrinkled with worry. His mustache was going grey along with the edges of his short hair. Bow's other dad was starting to look older. "You've been pretending for a while haven't you, son?"

"I am not warning you again," he dared not move the arrow off them. They both flinched against the light, Geroge raised a hand to shield his eyes, "don't move!"

"Bow, I'm coming to you!" Glimmer yelled.

"How will you explain it," George asked, his eyes hidden in the shadow of his forearm, "if she sees us you'll still have to explain who we are." Bow's hand gripped the haft of his Combow so tightly it began to hurt.

"Glimmer," Bow managed, "s-stay there!"

"But-"

"Stay there!" George had stepped closer. "You stop. Right in that spot. Don't get near me."

"Honey," Lance asked George, "what is this? What's going on?"

"Bow's been lying to us, dear," George sighed, "he's ashamed of us."

"I'm not!"

"Then why won't you tell us the truth?" Lance asked. George nodded.

"Bow, I need some direction here!" Glimmer screamed. "My light spells aren't working!"

"Why won't you tell her the truth?" George said, "why are you ashamed of us, Bow? Why are you lying to us?"

"You aren't my dads. You can't scare me," Bow growled. George shook his head sadly, mimicking his father's disappointment so perfectly it made Bow furious.

"Son," he sighed, "if that were true you'd have loosed that arrow by now."

"Bow?" Glimmer called out. Bow pushed away his fears, focused on his friend's need and turned sharply, fingers leaving the bowstring as he sighted a hurried target. The arrow arced into the air, throwing a spotlight in a parabola that lit the distant ceiling for an instant. The arrow fell and thudded into wood somewhere far away.

"Glimmer, go find that light!" He faced his fathers, both frowning with uncharacteristic malice, "After that, don't listen to anything I tell you."

"What?!" Glimmer yelled. "Whatever, I'm getting the light and then I'm finding Adora."

"Bow," George said, voice stern with reprimand, "you really shouldn't have done that." He lowered his forearm and Bow saw blood-red eyes with slit black pupils glaring at him. Then he turned so rapidly he nearly rolled his ankle and took off running in the dark.

Adam had found a nightmare. He was in the old gray castle and outside of it where the people of Princess Ishara, the Scorpioni like Scorpia. They were waving there pincers at him, begging for him to open the gates and let them in. Behind them the badlands were churning with huge black beetles. A hundred of them scuttling towards the trapped refugees.

Adam!

He was crouched atop the ruined gatehouse, near the caved-in frontal bone of the carven gray skull. They called out to him. Dozens of pleading voices.

"Adam!" One voice stood out. Catra squeezed through the press of chitinous red figures, turning mis-matched eyes up to him with horror. "Adam, help!" He gasped and spun towards the great chains of the drawbridge. He scrambled down them and pushed at the winch with all his might.

"Bad," a voice hissed in his ears at the same moment cruel fingers dug into his shoulders, "bad!" Shadow Weaver loomed over him, a red monolith blocking out the sun. Her pale eyes were hungry. "This is your fault."

"No!" Adam struggled to pull away. He froze as metallic laughter rang up from below, from the dark depths of the bottomless moat. It was distant then it was just overhead, he tried to force his eyes closed against the creature holding him tight. Shadow Weaver was gone.

The talking skull had returned.

It had a half-there, vague body. Ghostly fingers holding him in place, frame covered by a black-stained purple cloak, the hood was a sharp silhouette against the blue sky. The unforgiving whiteness of the skull emerged from it, empty eye sockets looking at him somehow.

"Help!" Catra yelled. The wailing people around her took up the cry. Old and young. It didn't matter. The beetles approached, huge legs making a noise like stumbling thunder. The skull's teeth snapped together as the jaw worked around its words.

"Help me," it taunted him, "why didn't you help me, Adam?" The fingers were like metal hooks, threatening to puncture his tunic and pierce his skin. "You did this to me." Adam shook his head. It wasn't possible. It was a nightmare. The talking skull leaned close. Cold, stale air breathed on Adam's face. When it whispered every word twanged like a steel cable snapping in half.

"Bad. Bad. I'll teach you, boy." Adam squeezed his eyes shut against the world. "You've gone. I can sense it. Somewhere very far away. But not too far for me." Down below he heard someone scream as a great beetle reached down to pluck them into their mandibles. "Never too far for me, little prince. I'll find you. You and I will meet again."

"Adam!" Catra wailed hopelessly. The hands gripping him began to shake him and the skull said his name over and over.

"Are you listening to me, you little blonde mistake!?" The skull roared. "You won't get away from me so easily! Are you listening, Adam?"

"Adam!"

He swung his fist at the voice and his knuckles made painful contact with someone's jaw..

He shot backwards and slammed his shoulderblades into the metal headboard. He hissed and snarled, pinwheeling his legs to kick himself free of his constricting blanket. The voices of his bunkmates rose around him in alarm. In the darkness, he caught sight of the satyr Chloris rolling out her bed and unsheathing a broad combat knife.

"What's going on?" she snapped blearily. "Drills? Attack?"

"No," he heard Lonnie say, "I'm turning on the lights." Adam pressed himself further into a corner and winced when the harsh fluorescents sent light screaming into his eyeballs. The whole barracks began to complain in one grumpy voice. "Adam, what is your problem?"

Lonnie was rubbing at her chiun. Adam sucked at his knuckles.

"S-sss-orry."

"That's it," Chloris rose to her feet, gesturing at Adam with her knife, "he has to transfer! He's dangerous."

"He's a little kid," Lonnie said, "you gonna be afraid of him forever?"

"What if he turns into that…that She-Ra thing again?" A few of the others sat up to listen as Chloris went on. "He'd kill us all before we could scream."

"He had a nightmare," Lonnie said, moving casually between Adam and the rest of the barracks, "I tried to wake him up cuz he was thrashing around. I got a bruise for my troubles." Lonnie held her hands out to either wall, indicating the whole barracks. "Anybody here wanna say that's never happened before? Catra says he stays here. Who wants to be the one to get in her face about it?"

The barracks gave her no answer. Adam wasn't paying attention. His heart was beating so hard it scared him and he was trying not to cry. The dream…it wasn't real. None of it. The skull was gone and far away. It'd never find him. It couldn't. He gulped down air. He was safe here.

Yet the cries for help in his head made his tummy ache with sadness. He looked at the drawing of Catra in his bunk and the ache became even worse. He didn't mean to get her hurt. He wanted to be good. His eyes slid rightways by an inch and he saw Marg's face at the far end of the barracks. The surly young man was giving him a look of utter contempt.

Adam flushed with shame and began to feel a heat growing between his ears. His face contorted in such a way that Marg sat up a little straighter, muscles in his neck tensing. Adam felt the harsh growl building in the back of his throat before it began to kick up in noise like a chainsaw. He grabbed one of his boots and pounced forward.

"You better not-," Marg's sentence ended in the solid thunk of the boot meeting the middle of his face. The red tattoos on his hands tightened when he clutched his face, a cry of pain shooting spittle through his teeth. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Someone grabbed Adam's face. They howled for mercy when he caught their thumb between his teeth. He headbutted Aqtiqtalaaq in her stomach when she tried to step in, then wriggled out between the long legs penning him in. Gan snatched at him with one huge hand, Lonnie shoved him back with her shoulder. Marg tried to rush after his assailant but was caught by Haomane, the elfin lad's slimmer build showing surprising stalwartness.

"You're dead, brat!" Marg yelled, blood from his nostril turning his upper lip a bright, wet red. "Get off me, knife-ears!" A sharp slap took his voice away. "You!" He choked on his rage. Haomane wrestled him back onto his bunk.

Lonnie had begun shouting something but Adam didn't stop to listen. He raced past his bunk, grabbing his tunic along the way, and out into the hallways of the Fright Zone. He donned the old garment, wincing a little at the feeling of it on his bare torso. He wiggled his toes on the freezing concrete, becoming familiar with the way he used to be.

A little monster running around the old gray castle.

Angry. He was still angry. He felt ashamed of himself for hurting Lonnie. He was mad at the others for picking on him and getting mad when he fought back. He was heartbroken that Catra had left him again for something he didn't do. He sought out a shadowy corner and growled at himself, scrubbing the edge of one eye to keep the tears at bay.

It wasn't fair! None of it was fair! They wouldn't have picked on him if he had his sword. Or…he hummed at the thought…if he had some of the Black Garnet's magic. He could show them all. He growled at the thought of Shadow Weaver and his mind lit up with thoughts that scared him. He didn't like hurting people but he needed to hurt Shadow Weaver. He needed to make her afraid.

Maybe then he'd feel less scared.

"Catra," he whispered sadly to the empty halls. He pulled up his hood, crouched on all fours like an animal, then began moving from shadow to shadow, one with the darkness.

Glimmer had passed the same shelf of red books twice and it was making her unreasonably mad. Bow's tiny light showed her enough to drive home that she was getting. Every second thought she had was how desperately she wanted to teleport in one direction to get her bearings.

Every first thought was about where Bow was and why this was happening. She swung the little flashlight-arrow onto the floor, determined to keep it in one spot. She bit back the urge to yell out for Bow and Adora. Or her aunt. Or anybody. She hated being alone in a place this dark.

She reconsidered that when she heard someone whisper off between the bookshelves.

"Where's she going?"

"Who's there?!" Her voice cracked painfully. "Show yourself in the name of the Rebellion!"

"King Micah's daughter," someone murmured, from back the way she came. She turned, swiveling the light and found darkness there. Nothing more.

"Not much is she?" Another voice sighed.

"I'll show you," Glimmer growled to herself, fist flaring. She spun towards the latest voice and hurled a violent fist of purple light. Pages scattered after the awful tearing bangs of a dozen books exploding. She waved a hand at the pages as they drifted past her, trying to clear her view.

"Nothing like her parents," then after a chuckle, "just a child…"

"When I get my hands on you!" Her threat died in a gasp. She felt something ephemeral touch her palm. She blinked at a long, glowing feather. The coloration was fantastical; a deep lilac at the shaft where it had been ripped from a wing, lightening down the vane until it was almost an invisibly light shade of purple. Others tumbled to the floor, joining a long trail that wound forward into the darkness, curling around the end of the bookshelf.

A path. Her thoughts sounded mocking. Your wish is granted, Princess. Dare you follow it to the end? Glimmer advanced, puffing her cheeks out in frustration. A trick. Some kind of trick. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Y-you better get lost," she said, "my friends and I are powerful! We'll make you sorry you ever came to Mystacoar!" She expected resolute silence or at most another whispering taunt. She jumped into the air as a familiar voice cried out.

"Glimmer!"

"Mom?!" She almost took a step forward then stopped so suddenly she lost balance. "Nice try!"

"Glimmer, come here now!" Her mother's voice hadn't changed position. But now it sounded strained, even hurt. "Glimmer…darling. Please."

"My mom isn't even here, dingus, so don't bother-AAAAH!" A few books tumbled down to land by her feet, a long-fingered hand in a white glove emerged in the gap and gripped the lip of the shelf with slippery fingers. Glimmer's nostrils twitched at the hair-raising smell of blood.

"Glimmer," Queen Angella gasped, "come to me now. Please, darling, we don't have much time." She teleported, the flashlight-arrow clattering to the ground behind her. In the millisecond of travel she had time to curse herself for an idiot. She'd find nothing there. It was a trick. A ruse. She was the idiot falling for it and as she turned around she knew she'd been had again by whatever was chasing them.

She looked, scowling and saw her mother slumped against the shelf, a deep wound in her side. Her heart leapt into her throat and strangled her cry of horror. Bow and Adora vanished from her mind. And she had no thoughts to spare for anything less important.

"Mom…"

"Glimmer!" Angella squawked when she tried to rush to her. "Don't…don't run, dear. The floor…its…slick." Glimmer's boots squeaked horribly on the blood…on her mother's…she began to cry all at once. "Glimmer. There's something here. It followed you and your friends. I tried to get here in time…you have to run. Get out of this library and find your aunt."

"Mom!" She threw herself into the arms that had held her since she was a baby. Cold. Her mother was already so cold. "What-what happened? I'll teleport us to safety, we can get you help and…" she sobbed when a gentle hand touched her cheek. The fingers were weak, the strength almost gone from them.

Glimmer reeled. The moons were cracking and coming apart, the sky was falling to the ground, the oceans were drying up. Her mother was…was…she buried her face into an armored shoulder, her cheeks hot against the steel.

"Glimmer," her free hand began to pet through Glimmer's hair, brushing the twinkling strands of purple-pink into place, "Glimmer…its important you hear me now. It's the last time…when you get back to Brightmoon-"

"Bow!" Glimmer lifted her head and screamed towards the vaulted ceiling, "Bow, come quick! I need help! My mom! She's really hurt!"

"Glimmer," even as her voice was growing quieter, Queen Angella managed that slight sternness that Glimmer knew so well. And would never hear again. "Commander, listen to me. When they ask you to become Queen…you must…refuse the crown."

"W-what?" Glimmer looked up into her mother's face. Loving her more than she ever had in her life, curling her fingers into Angella's blood-stained tunic. "What are you saying?" The hand in her hair swept down further, tickling the back of her neck with each stroke.

"My Glimmer," she smiled, eyes fluttering like she was sleepy, "you…aren't ready…to lead." Glimmer expected to hear a cracking noise as her heart broke. "I don't know if you…ever…will be…Glimmer." The hand in her hair slowed, laying against the nape of her neck. "Glimmer…I can't see you." The fingers tightened until it hurt. "Glimmer?"

"I'm here," Glimmer squeaked, "I'm right here." She wasn't ready. She knew it. She always knew it and now her mom had confirmed it with her dying breath. Glimmer cringed at the way her mother's fingers were pinching her.

Mom, she said, you're hurting me-

Her eyes wrenched open as her mouth stayed sealed shut. She looked up at her mother's face and found a horribly beatific smile awaiting her.

"Oh, Glimmer," her mother's voice affected sorrow, " you poor thing. And you are so young to die. What a tragedy." Her eyes darkened and turned red. Glimmer's legs were numb stumps. Her arms useless branches. In the corner of her mind where the magic of the Moonstone still burned, she found her salvation.

She heard the brief hum of herself teleporting and the fingers vanished from neck. She landed on her stomach a few feet away, rubbing at her eyes with hands that tingled with pins-and-needles. She looked up at the creature before her. It still looked like her mother, but its eyes were red pools split by black spikes. It's hands were smoking where they'd been touching her, it's teeth bared in a sneer.

"You awful child," the thing said in her mother's clipped way, "always making things difficult for me."

"Y-you," Glimmer rose to her feet, voice empty and stuttering, mind slowly piecing itself back together, "y-you…are…n-never going to leave this room." Her mother's soft laughter, like silver bells tinkling. "You'll beg me to let you die."

"I was like you once," it said, "I thought terror was all threats and snarls and phobias." It wrinkled its stolen face in wry embarrassment. "Young. Arrogant. But…this journey I've been on." It expanded a blood-stained hand to the dark library. "This…wonderful place!" A mad laugh erupted from the Queen's throat. "Oh, what I've learned! What you exquisite people have taught me!"

The eyes shimmered back to their normal dark grape color. Filled with kindness, pride, and worry. It's stance became regal yet approachable. It's wings flared once in a heavenly flutter and folded behind it.

"What you all really fear," it said, indulgent and loving, "is hidden just underneath what you love." Her mother's smile grew until it revealed far too many teeth, all sharp and glinting in the low-light. Glimmer knew, for a certainty, the image would haunt her nightmares forever. "But my time is drawing close. Enough play. I have practiced and now I know how to take the real prize."

"Adora," Glimmer gasped, struggling to her feet, "stay away from her!"

"Who else?" it said. "The lonely girl loved by all," it covered it's mouth and laughed softly, "except herself." It floated backwards, losing its definition until it was an afterimage of a tall, black-swathed creature. Then it was gone.

Glimmer climbed to her feet, cupping her hands around glowing orbs of dangerous light. The lights flickered and she cursed herself for wasting her magic. She was such an idiot. Such a coward. Such a big baby to get tricked by something like that.

"Glim!" A hand reached through the hole in the book-shelf where her 'mother' had called out to her. "Stay there! Don't move, I'm coming to you." She could kiss him, much as that would embarrass them both. She wasn't alone. All wasn't lost. Bow was here and she loved him fiercely.

The thought made her heart skip a beat and a dark thought crept into her mind.

Hidden. Beneath what I love. She grit her teeth and would've screamed if she didn't stop herself. She clung to her anger, hot and fearless, and turned with a war cry as 'Bow' stepped around the corner. He squealed and ducked as her sparkles blasted more books into oblivion.

"What are you doing?!"

"I don't make," she growled, "empty threats!" 'Bow' turned and ran. Glimmer gave chase, mind howling for revenge.

Adora yawned into her silk palm. Memorizing the words for the hundredth time.

"Eternia. Eternos. King Randor. Queen Marlena," she stretched, her back popping once in a satisfying way, "Grayskull. Warrior Queen." She slumped in her chair. "Not as much as I'd hoped but…hmmm." She blinked a little and then leapt from her chair. "The lantern!" It had been hours since Nadiya left. Hours since the lantern was mean to be extinguished.

"Ok! Oh, man. Uh. Ok, if I just…" she sidestepped the podium and crawled onto the table, reaching up to take the lantern down from its place on the ceiling. The light was still dim which she hoped desperately was a good sign. She touched the glass edges and fell backwards in shock. "Hot! Very hot!"

The Chosen One bumped her head on the floor and whimpered as she sucked on her forefinger through her silk mask. She stood, pulling off her gloves, her mask, and shoving the long white robe up off her body. She huffed angrily and hopped onto the table. Adora always worked better with a plan. She folded the robe over both hands twice and began to sneak up on the lamp.

"C'mere you," she mumbled to herself, "I gotcha!" She plucked it from its small hook with a triumphant grin, her delicate, calloused palms protected. "Ha! That'll show you." She shimmied down to the floor and looked at the page one last time. "Grayskull. Warrior queen of Eternia. Wait'll I tell Glimmer, she'll love this."

She shouldered the heavy door open and began to descend the spiraling staircase, feeling a refreshing sense of exhaustion creeping up behind her eyes. She'd sleep well tonight and that would be a welcome change.

She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the first echoing shout.

"Glimmer, stop!" Bow was terrified. There was a snap of energy and then what sounded like a whole tree's worth of wood groaning. She heard a single wooden snap and then an avalanche that went on for ten seconds before ending on a scatter of flapping pages.

Adora did a passable impression of a startled fish and then raced down the steps. She nearly slipped on a book as she stepped into the main library. An entire section of the shelving nearest her had collapsed on itself and left behind a mountain of damaged literature.

"Bow! Glimmer!" Her voice bounced around the library and was answered by a high-pitched yelp from Bow.

"Easy! That one almost got me!" Bow sounded scared out of his mind.

"Get back here!" Glimmer just sounded out of her mind.

"Guys, I'm coming to you," Adora tip-toed over the books, cradling the lamp in her hands for lack of a place to rest it, "where's the Archivist? Nadiya, are you here?" She crossed behind the largest pile of books and caught movement in the corner of her eye. She turned, face set in a soldierly sneer as a shape slammed into her legs. She tried to wrestle herself free and fell backwards into the books. Her attacker lurched upwards gripping her wrists through the robe.

Then their hands slackened, and they curled their arms around Adora's middle, she felt them press their face into her side and in the dark, she saw a high razor-cut mane of hair. She gasped a name in alarm.

"Catra!" She struggled harder, huffing. "What'd you do to Bow and Glimmer! How'd you get here!" Catra shook her head against Adora's stomach. She mumbled something then shook with a few heavy sobs. "Catra?"

"Adora," her voice was croaky and cracked from weeping, "A-adora…please! She's gonna kill me!"

"Where are you, Catra?" Adora's spine turned to a frigid pole of steel. "You can't hide from me forever…"

"No," Adora breathed. Shadow Weaver was here, in this room, somewhere in the dark beyond her sight. Bow and Glimmer were out there with her. Her sword was back in her room. Idiot! You idiot! You were so obsessed with reading some dusty old books you let them come! "No-no. That can't be. This place is hidden. Protected."

"She laughed," Catra whimpered, "before she left. She knows about this place, Adora! She…she was here before. Before the Horde!" Her voice broke in a sharp squeak. Adora felt old instincts she'd thought gone forever. A need to comfort Catra and keep her safe. She hadn't been this scared of Shadow Weaver since they were children.

"Catra," she swallowed, "look, Catra, it's gonna be ok." The arms around her tightened and Catra began shivering. Her tail was kinking in the air and bushy with her fear. Adora set aside the bundle of robes and the lamp inside it.

For the first time in days her mind was cleared of any thoughts about She-Ra and the revelations of her destiny. She scooped Catra up and pulled her close, pressing her face into the girl's wild mane.

"She's gonna kill me for real this time…"

"I won't let that happen."

"Adora? I'm scared."

"I'm right here."

"What h-happens if we get away? What do we do?" Adora felt a tear run down her face and gave an incongruous smile.

"You stay with me," she said, a deep, warming joy beginning to banish the fear in her head, "we stay together. And then…whatever we want…" Catra had come home. Finally. "It's gonna be ok now." Catra's hands moved up, touching her shoulders with a feather softness. "Now stay quiet. We'll get the drop on her."

Catra shook once. Then again. Adora frowned at the little hiss of raspy laughter she heard.

"What…are you laughing?"

"Remember," Catra snickered, "when we'd play hide-and-seek?" Adora smiled a little, confused but happy. "That started cuz I was hiding from her…" Adora's smile fell and she squeezed Catra in a hug.

"You won't have to do that again," Adora promised, "we'll help you. All of us."

"Really?" Catra's silky fur brushed the back of Adora's neck when her hand met there, her fingers curled a little. Adora's heart felt ready to burst with happiness. Whatever else had happened it would all be worth it if she got to have Catra back. To assuage the gnawing fear of what was happening to the girl she'd cared for her whole life.

To restore balance to her worried mind.

"Really," Adora said, "no more hiding." Catra sighed into her chest. Exhausted.

"Good," her hands grew a little tighter on Adora's neck, "that's good…I always found you, Adora."

"Catra?" Her heart began to race faster as Catra's head slowly lifted from her chest. There was a look on her friend's face that was all wrong. She'd seen Catra at her worst and her best…but the look in her eyes now.

She'd never seen Catra look at her such vicious delight.

"No matter how well you hide," her voice was low but clear as if she hadn't cried at all, "I always know how to find you." Her eyes were wrong. They were changing. Turning red. Red eyes with black slits for pupils. Adora began to hyperventilate, her body was refusing to move. The hands on the back of her neck were digging in so tightly.

Adam froze, one foot tip-toeing further towards a dark spot in the hallway of the Black Garnet's room. His bare toes flexed once and he tumbled to a heap. He couldn't mov but he could hear a voice in his head.

Time to go home. Dark Dream! It was back! But where?!

"Mmm," he managed. Shadow Weaver laughed triumphantly from within her chambers and all Adam could do was shoot air through his teeth as his lungs worked twice as fast. He'd failed. She knew he was coming and she'd sicced the monster on him.

His courage left him. His anger withered. He was scared. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hide. He wanted Catra!

"Excellent, child," Shadow Weaver was saying, drawing his eyes to the flickering red light of her doorway, "bring her back. Directly to my chambers at the lowest reaches of the South-East Wing." Adam shut his eyes and waited for whatever was going to happen. He made a miserable noise in the back of his throat.

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him off the floor.

"Kid," Catra hissed, "you picked a great time to just conk out on the floor!" She carried him across the hall and into a small closet. Without a word she sat him against a metal shelf of chemical smells that tickled his nose and made him sneeze. All he could do was close his eyes.

"Ew!" Catra pressed against the door away from him, grimacing at a string of snot hanging from his nose. "Thanks, booger!" Her hard stare turned curious when he didn't make an attempt to clean himself up. "Adam? Got a little uh…yo-yo just there?" She wagged a finger at her own face.

Adam twisted his face up trying to snort and Catra made a nauseous sound.

"Stop. Just stop. Here." She snatched an old rag off the wall and dabbed it on Adam's upper-lip. It smelled lemony. Catra picked up his right hand and let it fall back to the ground. "Are you feeling, ok?" Adam grunted and couldn't move. Catra rolled her eyes. "Ok. Up. Yes." She looked up. "Down. No." She looked down. "Understand?" Adam looked up. "Good. Can you move?" Adam looked down. "Crud."

She turned and pressed her ear to the closet door.

"How she can move so quietly I don't know," she growled, shooting Adam a look, "you walked right into my set-up, booger. I was waiting for her to finally buzz off so I could get into the Black Garnet chamber…now I'm playing babysitter. Again." Catra opened the closet door slowly and crept out into the hallway. Adam felt a few long minutes pass before her head poked back in. "She's gone." Adam was scooped up and held piggy-back style. His bare feet touched a pair of stun-batons slung crisscross above Catra's tail like a corsair's daggers.

"My night is going is soooo well," she grumbled as they ducked into the Black Garnet chamber, "sit there and don't touch…well, I guess that's not an issue right now." Catra tapped her chin. "Honestly, I'm surprised this isn't freaking me out more but…my life has gotten much weirder since you came along. I'm gonna find her notes then we'll split. Ok?"

Adam blinked.

"Right." She sighed. She turned, darting over to the table where Shadow Weaver worked and began to scrounge around. "C'mon!" She hissed. "Where did she put them?" Her tail flicked like a river frond in a gale. Adam's eyes snapped to the Black Garnet.

He saw a pool of dark magic seeping up through the concrete and tried to scream through clenched teeth.

"Shhh," Catra snapped without looking at him, "two seconds, booger, if I can just find these stupid notes…urgh! Tell me she took them with her!" She slammed her fists onto the table and shook her hands. "Yowch! Rrrrrgh! Why does everything always blow up in my face!"

"Mmmm!" Big drops of magic began to drip upwards and spiral into the shape of the huge monster that Shadow Weaver left behind to guard the room. "MMM!"

"Adam," Catra said, "you really need to learn how to give someone space to…" Catra turned and Adam saw her pointy teeth when her mouth dropped open. The shadow surged towards her with a hissing roar.

"Time to go home, Adora," the impostor Catra said, her voice undercut with another, whispery and half inside Adora's mind, "time to go home and see your family. For the Honor of Grayskull."

Catra began to change into a dark silhouette. It grew and grew until it stood eight feet tall. The red eyes mocked her as she was lifted effortlessly from the ground. Veins appeared along the surface of its obsidian form. It's outline became more solid.

A winged tiara. A flowing cape. Red eyes filled with menace.

No. Adora thought, her mind dividing in the terror of the moment. She strained her eyes right when she saw a flash of violet energy. Bow and Glimmer were just over the mountain of books, if she could only call to them.

"…" her voice wouldn't work. She'd had nightmares where she couldn't make herself yell and now they were coming true. No. No. I'm not like that. That was a virus. A mistake. I'm not like that I'm not a tyrant! I'm not a murderer!

"But you are a betrayer," the dark She-Ra said, "you are a callous little fool. Is this so hard to imagine?" She-Ra grinned, red veins rippling from the edges of her mouth. "This is what she sees when she fights you…poor Catra. You left her all alone." She-Ra touched Adora's face with icy fingers. "I saw it all inside her head. She fears you, Adora, more than anything in the world."

Stay away from her. She knew how stupid the thought was. An empty threat that wouldn't even leave her lips. The shadowy version of herself cocked its head and frowned.

"Such ingratitude. I'll reunite you. I'll bring you home." They began to rise into the air, Adora's numb feet dangling as the full weight of her future began to press in on her mind. She was caught. She was at this thing's mercy.

At that moment, the lamp exploded. Fire pounced on the unsuspecting library and drew the monster's attention.

The flames spread quickly, turning the white robe black and throwing itself onto the nearest pile of books. It hurt Adora to see them burn. Each one giving itself up, page-by-blackening-page, like it was being read one last time. Smoke billowed to hover below the ceiling in a growing cloud..

The heat was unbearable and she felt the sweat trickling down her numb limbs. She tried to keep her breathing as the smoke rose past them, overwhelming her senses.

The creature hissed and floated them both away.

"Was that She-Ra's last, pathetic attempt at escape?" It asked. Adora felt the displacement in the air behind her and only couldn't smirk because she couldn't move her lips. Glimmer's right hand grabbed the collar of her red jacket and the creature's outraged howl was right in front of her one second then on the far side of the library the next.

"Got you," Glimmer panted, "Bow?" The boy was leaning against the information desk panting heavily. "Sorry."

"It's cool," he said, "weird thing messing with your head I totally get it." He held his side. "Oh, man, I'm in pretty decent shape and I still got a stitch from running away that much." Adora struggled to her feet clinging at the desk for support.

"Need the sword," she said, "need to go get it. Just gotta get to my room." She slipped on air. "Stupid useless legs!" Glimmer touched her shoulder and scrunched up her face then whistled like an angry little teapot.

"Out of magic," she growled, "stupid useless powers!"

"Ok, time out!" Bow said. "First of all, everybody get on your belly. Smoke inhalation." The Best Friend Squad huddled together on the floor. "Alright. Door's over that way," Bow frowned, "but that Archivist is still in here somewhere we can't just leave her behind."

"I'll get her!" Adora and Glimmer said as one. Bow shook his head.

"You need to get your sword," he pointed at Adora and then at Glimmer, "you need go get help."

"I can still fight!" Glimmer leapt to her feet in anger then began to cough. She dropped back to the floor. "Fiiiiine. I'll get my Aunt Casta but this is a one time deal! I'm dangerous!"

"Bow," Adora said, "please-please-please be careful." Bow grinned and drew an arrow from his quiver. He snapped the shaft off and put it between his teeth, unclipping two small tubes and threading them into his nostrils.

"I," he said with a slight nasally twist, "always come prepared." Glimmer and Adora shared a look.

"But…why put it on an arrow?"

"Less talk more get sword and aunt!" Bow began to belly-crawl forward into the stacks. "I need to find that Archivist."

"Catra!" Adam threw himself forward, legs like jelly and fingers barely twitching. The shadow turned at his cry and Catra had time to scramble away, ducking behind the Black Garnet to hide. Adam squirmed in place, bringing himself up on his palms and knees as the hungry shadow began to glide towards its new prey.

"C-catra?" Adam asked weakly. Catra did not, as he hoped, come to his rescue. His voice trembled. "H-help…" The shadow reared up and grasped for him.

The Black Garnet flared and a stroke of red lightning seared through the monster's middle. A terrible keening whisper filled the air, the shadow shrank back into an inky puddle and dissolved. Catra peered around the runestone, eyes blown wide.

She was panting. Trauma was beginning to squeeze her brain from either side and narrow her vision to a single point. Shadows. Shadow Weaver. She was breaking the rules and she was being bad. And Adora wasn't here to help her.

"Catra!"

"Huh?" She blinked and saw Adam, arms trembling to hold himself up. He looked so small and helpless in his confusion. Between them, the long seam he'd stomped into the floor earlier seemed to open and become a chasm. "Adam. I…what'd you do?"

"Catra," he said, frowning. He curled up on the ground and sniffled once.

"I was just trying to get around behind it," she lied, shame making her stomach clench, "I didn't leave…I wouldn't do that. It was all a trick." She offered him a smile. "Trick?" Adam shook his head. He didn't know what she meant.

Or maybe, said the voice of that little girl inside her head, he's not stupid enough to believe you.

Bow found the Archivist standing at the edge of the fire. The flames advanced, consuming uncountable knowledge with every inch. The mage was swinging her arms like a windmill, arcane winds pushing vainly against the inferno. Her white robes had gone gray with smoke and ash. Bow grabbed her shoulder and tried to pull her back. The heat baked his armor at an alarming speed and the thin hair on his arms stabbed at him as they burned away.

"No! Leave me be!" The archivist was still under the creature's spell, he thought, until he wrestled her back and saw the tears streaming down from her awake, miserable eyes. "The books! All our records…its happening again. It's happening again!" She tried to struggle free but Bow was younger and stronger. Luckily that strength let him be gentle.

"I know," he said to her, raising his voice against the fire, "but we can't lose you too." He hurried them backwards, feeling her protest weaken with every step. Her sobbing gave way to a grim silence. The way was lit by the orange glow of the fire, their shadows ran before them long and lanky.

"My village," Nadiya whispered, "they took all our books and used them as kindling to burn down our houses and make way for one of their outposts. And it's happening again."

"Nadiya, please," Bow said, "we can still save some of it. Is there an alarm? Something to let people know there's a fire." The Archivist shook her head.

"No," she said, "the building is so old…so ancient." Bow frowned when she began to curl in on herself.

"Then we're not finished," Bow spat out his rebreather, "c'mon! Glimmer's getting help but we can get help even sooner." He pulled her towards the door and when she began to resist him he held her hand. "Nadiya. I'm gonna tell you something I never told anyone. My dads are librarians. Historians. Lance and George of the Whispering Woods." The mage's eyes refocused on him with wonder. He smiled, proud in spite of his shame. "They dedicated their lives to finding First Ones relics. One time there was a dry summer and a lightning bolt set off a fire that burned for days. The Woods are magic, fires are so rare."

Nadiya turned once more to the library as a shelf collapsed and sent a million sparks flying into the air like a cloud of firelies. Bow squeezed her hand gently.

"They got thirteen children outside and on the road in less than twenty minutes. We walked all night, my dads carrying two of my little siblings each. I remember my big brother kept saying he could go back and save something. Anything."

Nadiya bowed her head, face wrinkled with sorrow.

"My dads told me later that whatever they couldn't save they'd record from memory. Even if it was just a title or a half a sentence. They'd find a way to make a record." Nadiya stared at him for a moment then mumbled.

"Go. Take me out now while I'm not fighting you…I can't promise I'll stay this way." They stepped into the clear air of the hallway and pressed the door shut behind them to keep the smoke out.

"There!" he heard Glimmer shout. His best friend nearly tackled him with a hug. Castaspella rounded the corner, dressed in the simple robes of her office and tailed by twenty stout mages. She gasped at what she saw.

"Nadiya! Kima, go help her." Bow relinquished the battered Archivist to a young healer. Castaspella opened the library doors and stepped back, hand flying to her mouth in horror.

"Mages of Mystacoar, fire in the library," she managed, " go, Jayce, hurry!" A gruff old wizard stepped forward and looked into the inferno with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"Archmage," he said, "we…we must use water! Now!"

"No!" Nadiya wailed. "So many of those books are gone already! If you waterlog the rest…" she didn't finish her sentence. The torture she'd been through caught up to her at last and rendered her unconscious.

Castaspella looked lost for a moment, as if realizing that she was not having a nightmare. She shook her head sadly.

"Do what you must, Jayce," she looked at Glimmer and Bow, her eyes widened, "Adora! Gods of Etheria, tell me Adora isn't still in there!" Jayce screamed orders at the other mages. A few of them ran outside to levitate water up from the fountains in the courtyard below.

"No," Glimmer said, "she's getting her sword. She can help!" Castaspella's face was ashen and disappointed. "Aunt Casta?"

"What happened here, Glimmer? What caused this?"

"A monster! A shadow thingy!" Glimmer exploded suddenly.

"It can get in your head and make you see things," Bow added. Castaspella looked between them with suspicion.

"Are you suggesting such a creature is here?" She frowned. "In Mystacoar?" Heavy footsteps pounded up from the direction of the dormitories. A golden light conquered the darkness around them and She-Ra scuffed the floor as she skidded to a halt.

"Ok!" her voice boomed with readiness. "Where is that thing?" She turned in a circle, sword pointed outwards. "Is it still here?"

"The shadow creature," Castaspella said, annoyance creeping into her tone, "the one that set the fire in our library?" She-Ra looked abashed. "Adora? Is there something you'd like to say?"

"The shadow didn't start the fire," she said, "a lamp did." The mages still present stared on with astonished silence. "The oil lamp in the Archive tower…" She-Ra grimaced, "well, I didn't blow out the candle in time but...y'see this monster thing attacked us-"

"The lantern! Glimmer," Castaspella whirled on her niece, "is this true?"

"Yes!" Glimmer hopped up and down in rage. "Yes! Every single word! It tricked Bow and me and showed us all stuff that scared us into fighting each other! Is that so hard to believe…I mean," Glimmer winced, "it's pretty strange but it's all true. You trust me, don't you?"

"Glimmer," Castaspella's voice quivered a little, "if this was some kind of accident you need to tell me right this minute."

"It's true!" She-Ra said. "It tricked us!"

"It messed with our heads!" Bow said, shivering. "And it's still around somewhere!" Castaspella looked them over fiercely. She ordered the remaining mages away to wake more of their colleagues to search the whole of Mystacoar. When they were alone she looked them over.

"You three need to tell me the truth," she said, wincing as she heard a great volume water flooding the library. The fire inside hissed like a hundred snakes as it was extinguished, "nothing can get into this place without knowing the way. No creature can find it by accident."

"Maybe it followed us," Glimmer said.

"From where?" Castaspella asked. Glimmer's mouth worked around an answer that wouldn't form.

"It's real, ma'am," Bow pleaded, "it attacked us!"

"Yet you two attacked each other?" Castaspella countered. "Or is that not true?"

"They got tricked," She-Ra cut in once more, "it…it showed us things. Made us believe things that weren't there!"

"Such as?"

The three warriors fell silent. They looked at each other and then away, each one in a private torment over what had been hissed at them by the dark creature. Humiliated. Traumatized. Their darkest fears laid bare by a cruel, outside force. The full weight of their shame began to bear down on their hearts.

"Just…stuff," Bow mumbled. He glanced hopefully at Glimmer.

"It doesn't matter," Glimmer growled weakly, "it was all made up. Not real."

"It seems that way," Castaspella said, eyes softening, "Glimmer, you don't need to lie to me to protect your friends."

"They're not!" She-Ra stomped her foot, sending out a small tremor. "I set the fire. It was me! Don't get mad at them, it was my fault!" She-Ra became lost in bright light. Adora was tall and strong but seemed as small as a child after She-Ra vanished. "But they're really was something there."

"Enough," Castaspella sighed, "the three of you go to my office at once. I must handle things here."

"Aunt Casta!" Glimmer protested.

"At once!" Castaspella thundered. "Who knows how many centuries of learning has just been lost tonight? People have been injured, they still might get injured stopping this fire. I will hear no more stories about shadow creatures or mind games!"

As Glimmer led them away Bow saw her wipe sweat from her brow and, with a furtive movement, rub at her eyes.

Shadow Weaver was putting the finishing touches on Adora's room, tucked away in the catacombs beneath her quarters. It was a bit like a monk's cell in its sparse furnishings but that was in no way meant to reflect any anger on her part. She'd gone as far as putting a potted Dahlia on the nightstand; the same bright red as Adora's jacket. It brightened up the room a little and would serve as a reminder that this was not punishment.

"A few short days," she sighed, moving some of her lank hair out of her face, "enough to convince Lord Hordak that you returned willingly and have valuable information for us." She smoothed out a crease in the comforter and checked that the wrist and ankle restraints were oiled. "You'll be reasonable, Adora. I have the highest hopes for that."

She smiled under her mask and remembered the brief week she'd looked after the blonde infant that had come into her life through Hordak's strange portal, scribbling down notes as the child slept. At that thought she left the little room, pulling the heavy steel door half closed, and moved silently through the dimly lit hall. It was all concrete, of course, poured long ago to form a bunker of some kind.

The Fright Zone was full of such forgotten places and here Shadow Weaver made her den as comfortably as any pantheress. She slid into a dark room of steel filing cabinets. Each with a name, some crossed out in glaring red and moved to the one where, in black ink, 'Adora' was written in neat scroll above the date she'd been found.

The topmost drawer opened with a rattle and she pushed past a few neatly folded drawings. The yellowing paper did not diminish the childish figures on them; one tall with a red mask and white eyes, another small and blonde-haired. At the very back of the drawer was a blue blanket that was still fuzzy and warm. She pressed her fingers onto it and slid out a small circle of metal.

A medallion the size of a large coin, made from what she was certain was real gold. Carefully chased onto one side was the image of an eagle. On the opposing side was a name.

"Adora," she said to herself. Most of the cabinets in the room bore names she'd devised on her own but Adora's name had felt…perfect. So alien and yet so beautiful. So, Adora had kept her name.

She put the baby girl down into the plastic bin, doubling checking the wheels on the metal cart under it were locked into place. Shadow Weaver let the child squeeze at her finger as she read the name off the medallion.

"Real gold," she whispered, "what a fine little thing. Did your parents make this for you, 'Adora'?" The girl blinked at the name. "Hmm. Not important. Not any longer. You have me now." The baby girl smiled up at her.

Mother!

"Ah!" Shadow Weaver clutched at her head, feeling the cold medallion press between her palm and scalp. "What?!" She was furious at this intrusion, whatever Dark Dream's news. "What is it?!"

At her creature's report she hastily stowed the medallion inside a fold of her robes, rustling the sheaf of notes she'd taken on Adam's powers. She stormed out of the filing room, up from the halls, through the heady haze of her greenhouse, and burst into the Fright Zone like a vengeful spirit.

"I will deal with this myself," she snarled, "separate them at once, you useless thing!"

Adam was sitting on the floor, staring at his bare toes sadly. Catra zig-zagged across the room, muttering to herself and making little hissing sounds of frustration. She must've hated him. That had to be the answer. She'd barely said a word since she'd left him to face the shadow on his own…if the Black Garnet hadn't stepped in.

Adam. The Other One spoke. Adam, you must leave this place…Shadow…Weaver…will return… Soon the deep voice faded and Adam felt more alone than he had trapped in the hallway. Catra paused suddenly and her ears twitched rapidly.

"Ah?" She whipped towards him, her face pale and pressed a finger to her lips. She rushed to him, not bothering to give him an order or explain, yanked him to his feet and hurried him towards the doorway. She flinched suddenly and Adam pressed against her side then felt her heart beating rapidly above him.

"No way out," she said, "she's coming and there's no way out…" she was trembling, shaking. Her pupils had shrunk to little black lines. Adam's confusion vanished.

Of course she was unhappy…she was scared. He smiled a little despite the fear building inside him too. She was scared because he wasn't there for her either. He'd been self-centered and ungrateful. He'd failed to protect her from Shadow Weaver and what else could he have expected?

But it would be ok. He was here now. He slipped his hand around the one gripping his shoulder and squeezed it tight. Catra blinked and glanced down at him. He smiled at her. Catra swallowed and breathed out through her nose once, then looked up at the hallway ceiling. She slipped a stun baton out off her belt and broke away to run at the far wall.

"Wow," Adam breathed as he watched her move. She leapt at the far wall, sprang back off it without any difficulty, and spun in the air. She raked the stun baton at the long fluorescent overhead and smashed it into pieces. Adam saw a thin line of light imprinted on his eyes as he blinked.

In the sudden darkness Catra touched his shoulder and started to draw him forward, then paused, lifted him over the broken glass and settled them both into a little ball against the corridor wall. They were in the heart of the shadows, the pulsing red light of the Black Garnet creeping to the very edges of their hiding place.

A moment later, Shadow Weaver entered the corridor into the hall like a ghost of wrath. Her feet crunched the broken glass and she passed close enough that if he reached out he could've touched the hem of her robes. When she swept into the chamber he dared not breathe out in relief.

They were stuck, he realized, as Shadow Weaver began to paw at the stone basin, which commanded enough of a view of their spot that he wouldn't chance to try sneaking away.

"Worthless," she muttered, "idiotic! Of all the bunglers…" Adam fidgeted at the teeth-tie on his tunic, the bones clinked together once. Shadow Weaver's head snapped up in their direction and he was too scared to scream.

A warm hand covered his but it didn't snatch or grasp or squeeze. Catra's strength held itself back and a moment later, her thumb began to rub the back of his hand. He pressed his face into her left arm, where the tiger-stripes were and squeezed his eyes shut. He peeked out briefly and saw the witch leeching the remains of its shadow guard for power. Darkness crawled between her fingers as she pressed them into the water basin.

The spell was cast. The two frightened children sat a scarce distance away, dreading every breath and cursing their beating hearts.

Adora's hands stayed perfectly still in her lap solely because she focused all her thoughts on them. Don't fidget. Shadow Weaver had always been irritated by fidgeting and when she was unhappy-with Adora, with Catra, or with any minor crack in the surface of her life-she became aware of every little nervous twitch. Shadow Weaver did not like fidgeting. So Adora had learned not to fidget.

But it still took so much effort.

"Stupid," she heard Glimmer grumble. At least she wasn't pacing the office anymore, that had made Adora so anxious she'd nearly pleaded with Glimmer to sit down. Quiet. Obedient. Unthreatening. Good.

Adora's back twinged a little, she was trying to sit up straight in the comfy, plush chairs because that was what Shadow Weaver would have wanted. She had already done enough wrong tonight, she knew that. And every second that passed was another new image of what could go wrong and how badly she was going to be punished for it.

It was her fault after all. She started the fire and like a completely unthinking jarhead she'd destroyed any number of priceless books. No one would ever be able to read them now. She'd robbed the future of a little more of the past.

Maybe, she thought, I should've been smarter. If I'd been less focused on reading those dumb old books…maybe…all those mages wouldn't have to-Oh! Her mouth twitched at the idea that maybe someone had gotten hurt in the fire. Maybe that's why they were waiting so long. And had Adora thought of that? No. Of course not. She'd been worrying over books.

I'm such an idiot! Maybe…maybe it would've been better if I let that thing take me. I could have gotten free somewhere else. I'm good at fighting. She glanced at Bow and Glimmer. Bow was slumped in his chair, exhaustion dragging him into an uncomfortable silence. Glimmer was twitchy, as before, sitting on the edge of her seat like it would explode any moment. Better that I suffer instead of them.

"I'm sorry," she said. The words were louder than she expected. The office was dead silent.

"Its fine," Glimmer said. The growl in her voice wasn't directed at her, she knew that deep down, but Adora wanted it to be. She wanted them to be mad at her. If they would just say that they were disappointed she could start doing things right again.

At least, that was how it had been with Shadow Weaver.

She felt her fingers drumming on her leg and folded her hands together, much tighter than was necessary.

You're broken, she thought to herself with a flare of anger, and you thought those books would fix you. She wouldn't rub at her eyes. She wasn't tearing up. Just sit still. Don't mess anything else up tonight, you idiot.

There was no footfall in the hallway nor a shadow to darken the door as herald of Castaspella's arrival. She entered quietly, her face drawn and tired. Glimmer hopped to her feet.

"We're wasting time!" She snapped. "Aunt Casta, something has breached Mystacoar and it's a threat to everyone here. I'm sorry about the Library. But finding-"

"Glimmer," the archmage sounded exhausted, "the senior mages are combing the grounds. We've roused the oldest apprentices to watch over the halls where the young acolytes are still, by some miracle, sleeping soundly. I have some experience managing my own campus, thank you."

"Then we need to join them," Glimmer paced, "you've got three Rebel soldiers ready to go and you made us come here? To your office? Like we were passing notes in class! It makes me so-"

"Glimmer!" Adora jumped. She noted Bow did so as well. Glimmer went quiet, confused and startled by her Aunt's volume. "A great deal of priceless knowledge was just lost in a fire. Our Chief Archivist is unconscious and injured. You were there at the heart of this incident and despite whatever I may feel as your family-"

"But-!"

"Young lady," Casta cut-in, emotion roughening her voice, "if you interrupt me one more time I will not be happy about it."

"Glimmer," Adora mumbled, "just…sit down."

"Adora?" Glimmer looked hurt, betrayed even.

"Adora?" Catra looked at her for a way out, as always. The door of the Black Garnet Chamber opened with a sound like a gasp. Shadow Weaver was hunched over her scrying basin and sighed wearily.

"No dramatics today, girls," she turned her eyes on them, narrowing her glare at Catra, "we all have more important things to do, yes?" It would be ok.

"It's my fault," Adora said, rising to stand at attention, "ma'am the blame lies squarely with me. I accept any and all punishment." Her heels were neatly touching each other, her back was a flag-pole straight, and her eyes empty of the fear wriggling in her stomach.

"Adora," the next words were easy to predict, she heard them enough from Shadow Weaver, "please, wait outside." Adora didn't talk back. She didn't cry out. She didn't stand there stoically and risk further wrath. She did none of these things because they had never worked before and had never lessened the punishments.

Why can't she see it was my fault? Why can't she let me be wrong for once? Why do I always have to be the one that other people failed? I'm not worth it.

"The door please," she heard and she obeyed. The dark hallway of Mystacoar greeted her with marble and soft pastels that offered her no more comfort than steel walls and concrete floors ever had.

She walked right, because far away in the Fright Zone, there had been a catwalk to the right of the Black Garnet Chamber that no-one needed to go to. It was out of the way and useless. Here, in Mystacoar she found a balcony, a small place overlooking the main courtyard below. She halted at the door when she saw a silhouette looking towards the library. Smoke curled up to vanish into a starless black void. Small shapes milled about amongst the topiaries by the entrance.

She turned to leave but the fear of going too far, of incurring more anger from Castaspella overwhelmed her terror at talking to a stranger after all that had happened.

"Do you mind if I stand here? Sorry." She said, making her voice sterner than she felt inside. She lingered in the door, prepared to leave, when the mage lifted a hand to indicate the space next to them. She let out a shaky breath, more touched by the silent kindness than she'd expected.

She couldn't look anywhere but the library tower. It wasn't fair. There was something here in Mystacoar and it meant them all harm. She shouldn't have felt so bad about it but she couldn't stop herself. She'd tried in the Fright Zone, tucked away behind the floodlights, to not be sick. She had to wait her turn for a dressing down and that was the price of being bad.

It didn't matter if the monster had come for them. It didn't matter if the other Cadets had been picking on Catra all day. What mattered was Shadow Weaver was not happy.

What mattered was Adora had been bad.

"I'm such an idiot," she said to herself. A hand touched her shoulder, thin and ghostly but undeniably there. She had to stop herself from tearing up. "Thanks."

"They are nothing to cry over," Adora frowned, "and this is nothing to be ashamed of." The words made her body convulse with fright before the voice that said them became clear. She turned, slowly and her teeth clenched together until they hurt. A waterfall of shadowy magic separated her from the hallway and any chance of help.

"I should've guessed," she said, "I should've guessed you were the one…"

"It's been too long since I saw you last, Adora," Catra's heart found a faster tempo somehow, her ears twisting forward to catch Shadow Weaver's words, "you're still wearing the jacket I gave you." Her eyes traveled between Shadow Weaver's hunched figure and the basin of water. She wrestled with a shriek of fury trapped in her heart.

It's always about Adora.

"Let me go," Adora demanded, wincing at how she sounded, "my friends will come looking for me." She spun towards the railing and shouted. "Hey! Up here! Intruder!" Her voice leapt out into the courtyard a few scant feet before disintegrating in the wide-open space.

"Adora," there was a fondness in Shadow Weaver's voice even as she scolded her, "give me some credit. It's not going to be that simple."

"Stay away," she pressed against the railing, cursing herself for getting trapped, "just leave me alone. You can't be here!"

"I am not, in a true sense," the shadowy woman spread her hands, "this is a projection. I am still home. If I could be there, Adora, I would stand before you in a heartbeat." Adora froze as the dark fingers touched her cheek. "Goodness. But it is so wonderful just to speak with you again." The white spotlights of her 'eyes' morphed sadly. "Dear, you look so fatigued."

"You know why that is," Adora growled, "that thing you sent to find me…"

"Dark Dream," Shadow Weaver said casually, shrugging almost helplessly, "it is a crude tool. A creature of pure hunger. An animal more than anything. I use what means I must."

I knew it! Catra had to hold back from springing out of the shadows. Her anger and glee fought inside her like animals trapped inside a dark room. I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Oh, you're gonna pay for this. You just dug a hole so deep fifteen ladders won't get you out. You sicced that thing on all of us! For her.

Catra felt her eyes prickling with jealous tears. A growl was building in her chest that she couldn't stop. Then the person next to her shifted and she remembered where she was. Curious, concerned blue eyes stared up at her from the dark. A brief flash of iron-clad will anchored her to the present, reminding her that someone was here she had to protect.

Not now. She consoled herself. It isn't safe now. Quiet. Stay quiet. It was torture, still, to hear Shadow Weaver speaking to Adora once again. Shadow Weaver really does love you no matter what you do, Adora. But Catra would teach them both to never forget her or underestimate her. She'd show them all. She squeezed the small hand in her grip.

We'll show them all...

"Call it off," Adora said, eyeing the shadow magic carefully, "call it off now! It's me you want!"

"Adora," Shadow Weaver folded her hands, "you are in no danger here. I am with you."

"My friends?"

"That depends entirely on your behavior, dear girl." Adora scowled at her. "Take it as my desperation, Adora, to have you home."

"I am never coming back to the Fright Zone," Adora spat, "I am never going back there to be with you!" Shadow Weaver's projection slid closer to her.

"Have I wronged you somehow?"

"You-you!" Rage swelled in her breast like a forest fire. "You lied to me! About everything! You manipulated me!"

"I gave you direction," Shadow Weaver said, as if gently correcting her grammar, "the same direction everyone in the Fright Zone received. What precisely are you upset about?"

"The tyrannical princesses?" Adora's fist twitched with the absence of her sword. "The murderous Rebels? The world begging us for help?! They hate us! They hate what we are!" She glared at her former teacher. "What I was going to be."

"Yes," Shadow Weaver said, turning towards the courtyard, "indeed the reality is not so black and white. No smirking tyrants…just emotional powderkegs like your friend Glimmer?" Adora froze. "Or fools like the Princesses of Plumeria and Salineas? Shut-ins who couldn't care less about the world like the Princess of Dryl? The ones that let our armies march on them without a word of defiance until you came along?"

"It's not that easy," Adora said, her fire dampened a little, "what you-"

"Perhaps you think they're subjects make up for this fact," Shadow Weaver cocked her head in thought, "like the boy with the bow? A brave young man. How many campaigns has he seen?" Adora tried not to cover her ears. "Where are his allies? Where are the legions of great warriors standing in our way, Adora? Etheria has abandoned the Rebellion. Hidden in their fortresses to pretend that the war will never reach them. Are these cowards more deserving of praise simply because they are not enslaved as you were taught? What is it that 'free Etheria' has done with all its potential other than die bite-by-bite to the stronger power?"

"I won't listen to you anymore," Adora said, "you're a liar!"

"The complexity of the truth is reflected in the simplicity of a lie," Shadow Weaver's projection glared around them at the walls of Mystacoar, "and nowhere on Etheria are there simpler lies than within these cold, austere halls." Adora recalled the Dark Dream's trick and felt terror twist her stomach. Her face must've shown it. Shadow Weaver elaborated. "I have a long history, Adora, of which you are but a part. My clever girl. Can you figure it out? Think hard now."

"You chose to be in the Horde," Adora suddenly understood the weight of that sadistic whim and wanted to be sick. "Why would you choose the Horde?! You knew. You knew all along!" The depths of her deception made Adora want to sob and tear apart the woman with her bare hands. "You joined the Horde! Willingly!"

"Once upon a time," Shadow Weaver said softly, "there was a little girl who wanted nothing more than to grow up in her grandmother's house, tending the village herb garden, as her mother did and her mother and her mother before her. But one day an old mage came to town." The white will-o-wisps that were her projected eyes searched Adora carefully. "He promised her she was greater than all that and took her away to Mystacoar. And the girl went with all the innocence and hope of a child. She dreamed now of flowing robes and arcane spells, the little art of gardening forgotten for musty tomes in old towers." Here her projection shook her head sadly. "You went looking for answers there as well, didn't you, dear?"

"I'm not talking to you about this," Adora swallowed thickly, "let me go." She rotated a little more and found her back inches from then shadow barrier. A freezing aura touched her skin through her clothes. Whispers nudged her mind from nowhere.

"But when she reached the fullness of her power," Shadow Weaver went on, "she wasn't happy. Can you imagine her disappointment? How useless all that sacrifice seemed? No rank could satiate her. No confidence from her mentors. No respect from her pupils or love from her dearest, oldest friends." Shadow Weaver turned on her and moved in. "She felt alone. All alone. And so she chased down the chance of something more. More power. More opportunities. She wanted to see what more there was to learn."

Adora screwed up her face and glared at her caretaker.

"And were any of those people happy for her?" The projection rippled angrily. "No! They cast her out. Exiled her. At her moment of weakest, most vulnerable need they left her in the dark." Adora's heart leapt as she recalled a statue below them in the Hall of Sorcerers, marred and tucked away in a dark spot. "They turned her into a cautionary tale after she gave three decades of her life to this place. Nothing mattered to them but the tale that Light Spinner became after she was gone. They spat on her name and assured everyone that she was an aberration. A mistake. She couldn't happen again."

Shadow Weaver rose to her full height.

"I wonder. Did anyone ever go back to the girl's village and tell them what happened to her?"

There was, against Adora's will, a twinge of pity in her heart. She tried to push it away but…that had always been her failing. As the woman before her would've criticized. Adora couldn't be ruthless enough or empty enough to stop caring. She'd wasted so much time searching old books simply because she couldn't bear to think that someone, somewhere had once thought She-Ra was…a murderer. A tyrant.

"The Horde became my home, Adora," Shadow Weaver said, "and has denied me nothing. I found more happiness there," she looked lovingly at her, "then ever I had here. In this place. These small-minded fools won't lift a finger to help Etheria. Like everyone else." She cupped the girl's cheek. "You had to protect them tonight and they can't even be grateful for that."

"They're scared," Adora mumbled, "I can help them."

"Yes," shadowy fingers fixed her hair, "you can help us all. Come home, Adora. We all miss you."

"I can't!"

"You can," Shadow Weaver urged, "and you must. You are so special, my dear, one of a kind…"

Adora blinked in surprise when Shadow Weaver indulged in a small laugh.

"…perhaps I should say a rare breed instead? Ah. So much has happened since you ran off, my dear. So many revelations to share."

"I don't care," Adora found her voice, "I won't go back with you. So do what you're gonna do. Get it over with." Shadow Weaver recoiled.

"What does that mean?" She sounded hurt. "Adora. I don't want to hurt you. I am not your enemy. I never will be. How could I bring myself to hurt you?" Adora curled her fingers into her palms and tried not to fidget. Or feel guilty. "Adora. You ran away. Sought your own answers. Grew so powerful…do you think I'm upset?"

"W-what are you saying?" There was a gentle, fond laugh from the woman. Like she couldn't help loving Adora's obliviousness.

"Weren't you listening to my story? You used to love my stories." Shadow Weaver's projected fingers gripped her shoulders tightly, her image, darker than the night sky, filled the world before her. "You did what I did. Don't you see?" The pride dripped from her voice like venom from a snake's fangs. "You are more my child now than ever you were before."

Adam bit back a gasp as something hot and wet dripped on his bare arm and glanced up. Catra was crying. Her fang poked out between her lips, joined by its brethren as she bared her teeth in quiet snarls. Her eyes glinted at Shadow Weaver.

Adam wiped at the dark line in her fur on one cheek. She turned her glare on him and he pulled back. A moment passed and her eyes softened, she flattened her ears against whatever Shadow Weaver was whispering, a spell or something Adam guessed, and rubbed at her eyes with her free hand.

She paused after sniffling silently. In the dark, where no one else could see, put a hand in Adam's shortened hair, fingers smoothing over his scalp, and gave him a small, grateful smile.

Adora blinked away a tear. Why? Why was crying over her!

"I remember when I held you in my arms like this," Shadow Weaver's voice was soft and loving and everything she'd wanted growing up, "you were so small. You hardly cried when I had you." A touch of emotion too horribly genuine traced through her voice. "I looked away for one minute…and here you are. All grown-up. Oh, Adora, I've missed you so much."

The hands pressed her back one step, gently, into the grasp of the dark magic.

Heat inside. Ice on the surface. Darkness. A blind darkness that never knew the rumor of light. Adora's feet left the ground and she drifted backwards, powerless to even yell. The projection of Shadow Weaver became real for a moment as she passed through the veil. She could see the wine-red of her robes. The ashy-gray skin of her fingers. The horrible red face of her mask and dangling from her left hand by a blue ribbon, a circle of bright gold.

It spun, twisted and shone in the Black Garnet Chamber's red light. She saw it twirl. Adora it read on one side. But the opposite side was stranger still for it bore, in gold rather than bronze, the eagle of Eternos. The eagle from Duncan, the Dream-Warrior's shield, and the symbol that crowned the page of lost history that marked the line of descent from Grayskull, Warrior-Queen, to two names that filled Adora's mind.

Randor who was not of the blood. The voice of her own mind was oddly calm. Marlena of Earth. The gold medallion spun so that the eagle flew. It's golden wings flapped in place.

Eternos. She thought. Eternia. The heart of the Empire.

A huge talon protruded from a paw of immense size, covered in opaque violet scales. A titanic figure leaned down over her. On either side rose walls of ancient stone. Long tapestries unfurled down towards a marble floor. Upon their pink fabric soared the Bronze Eagle of Eternos.

The giant creature sat on its haunches. Reptilian and regal. The tips of either sharp horn scraping the vaulted ceiling. There was an odd helm on its head, weathered with time but still seeming so much younger than the eyes under its brim. Yellow. Golden. Burning fire. No word could describe them…except old. Old. They had cataracts like lines of magma and they glowed with restrained power.

Someone was holding her. Cradling her. She heard a man's voice say

"My lord," in awe, "we have not entertained a dragon in these halls in many years. Please, forgive our unpreparedness."

Adora's mind reasserted itself momentarily, clining, oddly, to the fact that the dragons were gone. They'd been gone for a long time. Etheria had never seen another dragon since before recorded history. Shadow Weaver had told her so. But Shadow Weaver was a liar…

The dragon spoke and wiped away all other thoughts.

"An invitation was sent," he…'said' was too flimsy and mortal a word…the dragon's voice was an echo from the ages, "and an invitation cannot be ignored. I am come to be here for my people. For all my kind on this momentous day. A special day."

"You do us too much honor," Adora felt herself shift as the man holding her knelt, she giggled as a long plait of red hair spooled down across her face, grabbing at with hands that seemed unusually small, "we cannot accept."

"Nor refuse," the dragon's voice existed in its own timeline, "nor should refuse. Here. This gold is from the great hoard at Darksmoke. We share it now. In hopes that the future of Eternia be as bright and pleasant as these small gifts."

The medallion spun, the eagle flew under the dragon's claw.

"Lord Granamyr," the man breathed, "thank you." The man reached out a strong arm and took the medallion from its claw. Adora stared in wonder at it as it drew closer. "That's yours, little one, see? It has your name, Adora." Adora wasn't watching it, she was staring at the dragon's claw.

There was a second medallion hanging there. Awaiting its owner.

Who is it for?

"Adam," Catra hissed softly, "hey, what's wrong? Calm down!" Adam was twisting in place, hands clutched over his eyes and moaning. He was fighting to stay quiet but something was going very wrong. In her chamber, Shadow Weaver's sweet crooning to Adora had gone quiet and been replaced with an eerie, pleased silence. She'd hear them. She'd find them!

But if she slipped away now…a little hand grasped at hers desperately. She looked at Adam, his face contorting in fear. His eyes swimming with a plea for help.

You can't leave him. Again that little girl's voice…her voice…in her head. Not again, Catra.

She bit her lip and slipped the spare stun baton from her belt.

"Best I can do," she said, "you know what to do?" She pressed the button and let him see the snapping green sparks of electricity. Catra winced at the loud crackling sound but forced away the thought of Shadow Weaver or punishment. She made a deal with Adam and she had to hold up her side too. She kept her promises. Adam squirmed as he nodded.

"By the power," he croaked as she jabbed him in the stomach, "of Grayskull." Catra hissed as the stun baton's battery burst. Adam's eyes twinkled green for a heartbeat then cut towards Shadow Weaver.

Adam saw it all laid out in the half-veiled shadows of the fog trying to consume him. He saw the blonde-haired warrior in the red jacket, the one who'd hugged him and made him feel safe. Darkness snared her limbs and made her defenseless as a fly in a spider's web. Shadow Weaver's water basin glowed with black light and boiled shadows outwards to do her bidding.

Somehow the magic was hurting him too. Somehow. He focused hard and saw a thin thread of gold around his right wrist, it twinkled in a line like a silk-string catching sunlight and ended at the blonde-warrior's wrist.

He tried to struggle but he couldn't move an inch. He couldn't yell out to help her or for Shadow Weaver to stop. He wanted to explode with anger! It wasn't fair that Shadow Weaver could keep hurting people and get away with it. He had to think of something.

Adam? He blinked and looked towards the Black Garnet. In this half-formed world of magic the runestone was a bolt of red lightning spiked to one spot, buzzing in an endless dance of power. Adam, what are you doing here? Run away!

He couldn't even if he wanted to. Shadow Weaver spoke up.

"Now return to me," she whispered, "return."

He remembered what the Black Garnet taught him about releasing the power. Strength wouldn't help if him. He twisted his right hand so he grasped the golden thread. He released the tickle of energy inside his stomach, what little Catra had given him, and sent it along with all his hopes.

Muddled and dumbfounded, Adora was living inside a fever dream of shadow. She was swimming through the black nothingness that the little dream had left behind. No dragon. No medallion. No comforting presence. She was trapped in the dark with Shadow Weaver and she needed to get free!

Bow and Glimmer needed her. Etheria needed her! She was She-Ra. She had to save everyone.

Her wrist tingled and a sudden surge of energy burst forth from inside. Her limbs worked all at once and up-down-left-and-right all returned to their proper places. She pinwheeled her arms and slammed against a hallway in Mystacoar. Shadow Weaver's projection looked at her with astonishment.

"What…" Adora said.

"…just…" Shadow Weaver whispered

...happened!? Catra thought as Adam sat up and shook his head like a soaked puppy shaking off rainwater.

Shadow Weaver shot forwards with a snarl, Adora dodged left and sprinted down the hallway.

"Adora!" The witch was furious. "Come back here at once!"

"Leave me alone!" Adora shouted over her shoulder, feeling weightless at her sudden freedom and determined to fight back.

"Dark Dream!" Adora stumbled as she ran, eyes alert for an ambush. She had to get to her sword. She had to turn into She-Ra.

She caught herself smiling. Maybe she didn't have all the answers she needed and perhaps she never would but she was through digging around in a library for an answer she already had. Who was She-Ra?

"I am," she breathed evenly as she rushed towards Castaspella's office, "and I've got people counting on me!"

Glimmer didn't have any fight left. She was tired and humiliated and, though she tried to hide it, hurt at the words her Aunt was saying.

"Glimmer?" She looked up. "Were you listening?"

"I get it," she grumbled.

"Glimmer, you are acting completely spoiled. Bow and Adora are not welcome here anymore. Do I need to reconsider your freedom to come and go as well…" Castaspella stiffened slightly and glared off into a corner. "Excuse me."

Glimmer was glad for the distraction. She was hollowed out by the criticisms. The nitpicks. All of them were true. That was the worst part. She was immature. She was too angry. She didn't have respect for people who knew what they were doing.

Bow squeezed her hand. She'd gotten him in so much trouble and he hadn't said a word the whole time Castaspella berated him. When she looked up he didn't even seem sad just…she sat up a little at the look in his eye. There was suspicion in his tensed shoulders.

"Now," Castaspella stepped behind him, placing a comforting hand on their backs…just below their necks, "perhaps we can discuss how you intend to remedy what's-

"Ma'am," he stood up, pulling Glimmer to her feet, voice even, "I'd like to go see Adora, please."

"I'm not quite ready to let you walk off, Bow," Castaspella tutted, "and I don't appreciate-"

"He can go if he wants to," Glimmer said, anger trickling into her heart, "so can I. We're tired and we want to see our friend." A thought was occurring to her and, she decided, even if she was wrong she wasn't some little kid who had to stay and be lectured. Not now. Not when someone was in danger. "In fact, we're leaving now." She tugged Bow's hand.

"Well," Castaspella frowned, moving to block the door, "we don't always get what we want do we-"

The doorknob behind her twisted in a little cloud of magic and the door swung inwards. Her Aunt Castaspella backed into the room. On the tray in her hands a pitcher of milk squatted next to a little hillock of brownies. The second Castaspella, who had just entered, sighed dramatically.

"Firstly," she said as she turned, "I'm sorry I was so short with you three. I was so worried and I lost my temper but that's not fair. You'll be happy to know Nadiya will be just…"

Castaspella looked at Castaspella and went silent. The first Castaspella drew back and pointed at a finger at her doppleganger in the doorway.

"This must be the-"

"She's the real one," Glimmer and Bow snapped in unison. The first Castaspella smiled bashfully and then grinned unpleasantly. She backed into the shadows and her eyes turned red.

"What on Etheria…?" Castaspella said at last. Glimmer jolted after their attacker and yelled to Bow when she heard the sound of a giant centipede scuttling into the far corner. Glimmer vaulted her Aunt's desk, scattering her own baby-photos, and lunged. She found nothing but carpeting.

Her aunt cried out and the pitcher shattered. They turned in time to watch, stricken with horror, as the enemy that stalked them took a true form at last. It was man-shaped in the barest sense, as if a tall person had swaddled themselves in a black cloak. Its red eyes bored into them with hateful glee as two hand-shaped tendrils dug into the back of Castaspella's neck.

"Let her go!" Glimmer screamed. Her fists sparked once and fizzled. The monster laughed and dragged her aunt backwards into the hall and her fuzzy slippers squeaked against the tiles.

"You cannot protect her," it hissed in Castaspella's ear, "she'll die as Micah did. And it will be your fault again."

"Stop it!" Bow yelled, he'd retrieved his arrows and dared a shot that passed between the creature's red eyes. It hissed mockery and leaned down once more to whisper.

"Mystacoar will fall," Castaspella was struggling away, shaking her head to be free or deny the fears being drawn up from the bleakest places of her mind, "the mages will be slain. The acolytes taken to Horde and raised to serve. None will aid you! You never helped them when they needed you and they hate you for it."

"I won't listen," Castaspella said through her teeth, "get out, creature, my mind is my own!"

"Aunt Casta," Glimmer trembled as her own voice whispered, weak and near death, from the creature's unseen mouth, "why did you let us die?"

"Stop!" Castaspella waved a wide arc of varigrade light and Glimmer tackled Bow to the ground as it seared a crescent shaped hole through the walls, scorching the tops of the chairs and desk inside the Archmage's office.

"Aunt Casta, it's a trick! Don't listen!"

The creature's eyes opened and it whirled about, dragging Castapella like it was brandishing a weapon.

"She did this," it hissed, "she is your enemy!" Glimmer looked down the hall and felt her heart soar to see Adora charging to their aid. Her eyes flashed blue and her hair waved like a gold banner of war. A long tendril of shadow whipped out towards her.

"What can you do to…ack! Hsss!" It shrank back, almost separating from her aunt as it pulled away. "Keep away from me!" Glimmer rushed to grab the Sword and barreled into the hallway.

"No!" She felt the cold clasp of the shadow magic on her neck and hurled the sword into the air. Adora's right hand shot up to clasp the hilt as it spun towards her.

"For the Honor," Adora's cry rang defiantly about the hall, "of Grayskull!" Light burst out and the creature hissed.

"Dark Dream," She-Ra rumbled, "I'm giving you one chance to let her go."

"I will not flee meekly into the night, little Adora…"

"Oh," She-Ra smiled pleasantly, "I said let her go. You? Aren't going anywhere." The Sword of Protection gleamed a deadly sapphire as it pointed towards Dark Dream. "This is all about how easy you make it on yourself."

"Bold words. From a scared little girl!" Castaspella yowled and her eyes glowed a bright purple. The hall shook and She-Ra whirled in a circle, sword spinning, as a dozen huge chunks of violet stone ripped free and shot forward to crush her. She turned three to dust with a blow of her weapon but the rest beat her to the very railing of the hall.

"I am enjoying this," Dark Dream laughed, "you are all my toys." Glimmer felt herself lifted off the ground and then she was flying towards the open window. Bow yelled something and a hurried arrow sailed underneath her. Halfway towards the ground a wide circle of white material exploded and hit the ground a second before she hit it. She bounced once and tasted grass as she face-planted in the courtyard gardens.

A few seconds later she heard an approaching cry that ended with a slam and a woof of pain.

"Adora," Glimmer sat up, "you didn't jump after me did you?"

"…no?" She-Ra said sheepishly. "I reacted, ok? I'm sorry!"

The tickle of magic at the base of Glimmer's spine made her look up. Her aunt levitated over them, Dark Dream like a phantom at her shoulder. It's red eyes twinkled in the upper darkness of the courtyard, it was waiting for their next move.

"Run," Glimmer looked around, "inside! If we can get them into the Lunarium…maybe we can turn the magic back on Dark Dream. That's it name right?"

"Yeah," She-Ra studded, cracking her back with wince.

"Where did it-"

"Shadow Weaver," She-Ra said, "the Fright Zone. Hey! Down here!" She looked uncertain for a moment. "It wants me. I could lure it away from here. From all of you."

"Adora," Glimmer said, "that's not happening. We stick together."

"You're out of magic," She-Ra said, "and with Castaspella as its shield…Glimmer, I'm sorry. I brought this on all of you."

"Adora…" Glimmer paused, then pushed down all her guilt and glared at the tall warrior, "you're right."

"I…oh." She-Ra seemed small all the sudden. Less confident. Glimmer didn't dare risk a glance overhead.

"You've been nothing but a nuisance, Adora," Glimmer snapped, "you've made my life so much harder." She-Ra's mighty shoulders slumped and Glimmer tried not to scream in frustration. She snatched the end of the blue blade in She-Ra's hand. "Look at this sword. You don't deserve it. Adora, look at this ancient blade. Look at it!" She-Ra did so and blinked in surprise.

Reflected in the metal they could both see Dark Dream and its prisoner descending. The Dark Dream was not attacking but it was approaching with a devious interest. She-Ra screwed up her face in thought and gasped.

"Oh!" Glimmer glared at her. "I mean…oh! No. Glimmer how could you? Oh woe is me?"

"Shut up!" She gave her a meaningful look. "Seriously. Shut up and let me talk! Don't. Speak." She-Ra nodded, covering a sob that sounded suspiciously like an excited, nervous laugh. Glimmer fought back a smile on her own face. "You and your stupid, muscleheaded blundering. You big idiot!"

"Ok," She-Ra muttered behind her hand, "I get the idea."

"If it hadn't been for you, Adora, you know where I'd be?" She-Ra's electric blue eyes darted to the blade and she tensed up her grip on it. Glimmer knew the tendrils were reaching out now, eager to take them under control and use their fears against them.

"Where?" She-Ra asked, her terrible acting making the word a dramatic wail.

"Still wandering around the woods probably." She-Ra spun, sword flashing and sliced off the tips of either tendril. A piercing shriek jabbed them both in the ear drums. Castaspella's answering cry ended in a hurried spell. Snaking lines of yellow energy serpentined outwards from her fanned fingers. They seared the bushes and benches into ash, and evaporated the water inside a fountain before melting the stone.

"Inside!" She-Ra yelled. She scooped Glimmer up and raced towards the entryway. The spell followed them, slicing through marble and masonry. As they passed through the Hall of Sorcerers into the Lunarium, Glimmer saw the tall statue of Norwyn the Wise buckle and thunder to the ground.

"What now?" She-Ra asked. She dropped Glimmer and spun in place, sword at the ready. Before the Princess could strategize, Dark Dream was in the doorway and Castaspella was crying out in terror. Her words took shape and became a fog of burning blue mist that pricked at their eyes and stung their skin.

"We have to get them away from each other," Glimmer rubbed her eyes. She-Ra leveled her sword in the direction of the doorway and beamed a cone of blue light. "Without killing my aunt, please, Adora!"

"I'm trying!" She-Ra's hands shook. The beam shrank and the sword stilled, the mist had been cleared in time for them both to see a huge green fireball forming between Castaspella's hands. "Ok. Your aunt is definitely not trying not to kill us though!"

The fireball launched towards them and She-Ra raised her sword in a useless parry. Glimmer pressed her face into the cape hanging down She-Ra's broad back, whimpering in fear. There was a flash of light and an excited laugh from overhead.

"Glimmer, look!" She-Ra turned, her face beaming with pride. "I made a shield!"

"Fireballs!"

"You think I could?!" Glimmer jabbed a finger behind her and She-Ra turned to catch three huge projectiles with her new weapon. "Oh. Ok! This isn't a long-term plan!"

"Let my aunt go, you big spooky jerk!"

"You cannot stay cowering behind that shield forever," Dark Dream seethed, "Adora I need. You, Princess, will become very familiar with your own worst nightmares." Glimmer trembled at the thought of what she'd been through already. The idea of losing her mother. Her aunt. Her friends. It was all too much to bear. Dark Dream felt her fear and reveled in it.

Wait…Glimmer recalled how it had shrank back from Adora's ferocious charge.

"Adora," she said, "earlier! In the hall. What were you thinking when you charged Dark Dream? Exactly!"

"Wha?" She-Ra grunted, cringing as green flame licked at her hair. "Nothing! What do you mean?"

"Just," Glimmer groaned, "what was going through your head? It's important!"

"I…I wanted to protect you guys! Shadow Weaver tried to trick me. Convince me to come back. Make me think she loved me but it was just a trick." She-Ra managed a fond smile as she braved another volley. "But I know what real love is now. I know it doesn't ask for anything…so I have to give everything back in return!"

"Hsssssss!" Dark Dream twisted Castaspella's mind and a dust-devil grew up from the ground, moving towards She-Ra and Glimmer with a sparking, twanging scrape like it was made of a thousand whirling razor-blades.

"That's it!" Glimmer shouted in triumph. "Courage! Dark Dream can't stand courage! Get me to Aunt Casta and I can fix this. I know I can." She looked at her aunt. The trapped woman's eyes were glowing with arcane power even as they put forth tears of fright.

"Aw," She-Ra said, eyes twinkling, "courage? Thanks!" Glimmer hugged her around the middle.

"Now let's make this thing cry!"

"With friendship!" She-Ra cheered. They both gave a battle-cry and advanced as one. She-Ra twirled in a circle, scooping Glimmer up with her shield and catapulting her into the air. The dust-devil shredded the edge of her cape as she somer-saulted over it. She threw out her arms and caught her aunt around the shoulders.

"You leave my auntie alone!" Glimmer snapped, pressing her cheek to Castaspella's. Dark Dream's red eyes narrowed in revulsion even as it drew in closer towards her. Glimmer didn't think about the humiliation of being afraid or having what she feared known. She didn't think about the expectations of Etheria. She didn't even let herself think about what would happen if she failed. She focused her mind on her aunt and everything she'd do to keep her safe. She gave the shadow-creature a mean smirk as it bristled.

"Courage fades quickly. Fear is forever! When your friends fall-!"

"Not tonight!" Glimmer shouted. "Not to you! You're just a boogeyman with nothing and nobody, that's why you scare people and eat what they feel!" The creature's phantom face twitched in confusion. "Maybe what we fear is right under what we love but that just makes facing them easier!" She held her Aunt's face gently in both hands. "Fight it, Aunt Casta. I need your help. Please!"

"Glimmer," Castaspella said her name almost in a trance. Dark Dream hissed.

No! Mine! All of you are mine to do with as I please. You are nothing, Archmage, a pale reflection of your brother! You failed him-

"Aunt Casta," Glimmer said, "it'll be ok. But I need you to wake up. My friends need your help."

"Help…yes. Yes, of course."

They burned the library! All that knowledge lost! You let it happen-

"I love you, Aunt Casta," Glimmer said, hugging her aunt as tightly as she could. Below She-Ra had been pushed backwards by the whirlwind and was nearly off her feet. Then, all at once, the spell vanished.

"I love you too, Glimmer." Castaspella had abandoned her incantation to hug her beloved niece. All fear forgotten.

"Weak!" Dark Dream broke away from the pair and they plummeted to the ground with a yell of surprisingly familial harmony. She-Ra threw herself forward and caught them both. "You cannot do this! I am master here this is my kingdom now!"

"Sure is yelling a lot," She-Ra said.

"Only cuz it's scared," Glimmer cracked her knuckles.

"It should be," Castaspella rose, her eyes lit up once more and she spoke in a voice that radiated power, "mages of Mystacor to the Lunarium!" Bow came racing in, an arrow nocked. A moment later help began to arrive in force. Some fazed into existence around them. Some flew in on arcane winds. Other simply rose through the floor and the walls. Dark Dream's vague, hooded head twisted this way and that. It muttered bitter protests as it found itself surrounded with no shadows to welcome to it.

"Stay back!"

"I don't know how you found this place, creature," Castaspella raised her hands, "but you will never return here."

No! No-no! Please! Dark Dream shifted and began to twist, growing in size and shrinking all in one instance. Ah! It hurts! It hurts!

"Yikes." She-Ra said. "What are you doing to it?"

"Nothing," Castaspella frowned, "not yet at least." The red-eyes widened and then turned white. She-Ra had a moment to cry out and raise her shield before Dark Dream burst into a miasma of shadow. The mages cried out and collapsed, writhing on the floor. The lights dimmed to a sickly wan glow. She-Ra saw Glimmer crumple to the ground next to her Aunt. Bow braved the force for a second before succumbing. Behind her shield, She-Ra felt the tenuous grasp of her magic leeching away.

Adora cowered beneath a heavy golden shield, resisting the darkness with all the courage she had left.

"Adora," Shadow Weaver floated in the center of the maleficent storm of forbidden power, "these people will abandon you. They will use you for your strength and throw you away!"

"You lied about everything!" Adora shouted. "Why would I believe you now?"

"You will see things from my perspective in a moment, dear," Shadow Weaver's voice was everywhere, everything, it was hooking itself into her mind, "you won't have a choice. Remember, Adora, I'm only doing this because I love you."

"You can't love anyone but yourself," Adora said, "and I don't have to listen to you anymore."

"By tomorrow morning this will all seem like a nightmare."

"Not for me," Adora rose, "I'm wide awake. For the Honor of Grayskull!" The transformation stalled for a moment then broke through the darkness around her. She advanced, one foot at a time, pushing the thoughts out her head with every kind word, shared laugh, and moment of peace she'd had since leaving the Fright Zone.

And Catra? It wasn't Dark Dream. Or Shadow Weaver. It was her own mind. Asking the question she'd dreaded most of all. What does she matter?

"She'll always matter," Adora said to herself, "but not more than the whole world. Not more than everybody else combined." She felt a new surge under her heart. The rising peace of hope. "And maybe someday I'll save her too." She pumped her long legs and reached the center of Shadow Weaver's spell.

"Adora-"

"Shadow Weaver," she lowered her shield to lock eyes with the projection, "shut up." Adora slammed the runestone of her shield directly between her former mentor's eyes.

Catra pressed them both flat against the wall as Shadow Weaver reeled backwards from her scrying basin, clawing at her mask. Adam pressed his face into her arm, whimpering. Shadow Weaver smacked the back of her head against the Black Garnet and her pale eyes rolled up as she collapsed to the floor of her chambers, motionless as a corpse.

Unseen by either of them, a small golden medallion bounced on the floor and rolled to a stop in the far corner of the room.

"…Ca-tra?" Adam asked into her bicep.

"Yeah?"

"O-k?"

"O-k."

Dark Dream turned to smoke and fled from Adora's fist. It made for the entryway, diving past the sluggish mages. At the threshold it froze, shrieking in agony when a magic vice held it in place.

"No," Castaspella said, one hand out and clenched in a fist, "you won't leave before I can make sure you won't come back." She breathed deep and when she spoke again each word rippled with power. Adora realized she was about to hear rhyming magic, the highest form of arcana.

"Exiled. Banished. From now to time's end. By these words I proclaim. By these words I portend. Thou shalt never again breach this hallowed hall. You are forbidden all doorways and penned by each wall. Creature of horror, I put thee to rout!"

Castaspella's eyes burned as she finished her incantation.

"The nightmare is ended and I cast thee out!" The final word punched Adora's ear-drums, deafening her momentarily.

Dark Dream keened like a dying animal as it was dragged out of the hall and into the air. In an instant it was lost against the greater, gentler darkness of the early morning sky, already turning blue with the coming day.

She-Ra vanished in a glow that left Adora stumbling a little as she got used the height differential. A pair of arms embraced her and held her steady.

"Poor thing," Castaspella said, "you need to get some rest, I think." It was an order Adora would gladly obey. She took a last look around the room as the mages of Mystacor helped each other stand. As Bow and Glimmer hugged out their relief.

"And thus," Adora snickered, "was balance restored." She didn't recall the walk to her chambers or slumping into her bed. She stirred hours later, to the smell of the lunch her friends brought to her room. In between those times she dreamed not at all.

Catra chanced a hand underneath Shadow Weaver's chin, finding the warm skin of her throat. She felt a spot of flesh throb with the mage's pulse.

"Still alive," she said, torn between relief and regret, "good. I can use that."

"By the Power of Grayskull!" She flinched away as the Black Garnet burst. Adam marched around from behind the runestone, hood thrown back and little body steaming with power. He glared at Shadow Weaver's prone form.

"Hey," Catra said, realizing what he intended, "no! Adam!" She jumped in between them. The boy looked up at her in confusion. "No." His screwed up and he pointed between Catra and the Black Garnet.

"Bad," he said, turning a hateful glare on the helpless heap that was Shadow Weaver, "bad!" Bad people get punished. Adam still believed in fairness.

"No," Catra said.

"No?!"

"Hey," she snapped, "Adam, you listen." She tugged her ear. "Listen?"

He crossed his arms and Catra recalled how much strength would be humming through them right then.

"I need her."

"Adam!"

"What?" Catra said, sneering. "You want payback? Get in line." Adam stomped and left a foot-print cracked into the floor. "Cool it, booger! Go back to the barracks."

"Home?" Adam said, indignant. "No!"

"Yes, Adam," Catra said, jabbing her finger towards the corridor, "Adam, home! Now!"

Adam ground his teeth and seemed ready to scream with anger. Catra drew back carefully in case he lost control. He rushed past her and she briefly wondered how she'd stop him at all. But he was merely venting his anger. He kicked the column of the scrying basin, turning it into powder and spilling the dark water across the room in a thin flood. He crushed the little wooden stool. He threw his shoulder into the arcane table and cracked the dark rock it in half so that it collapsed inward. Catra watched in fascination as he laid waste to Shadow Weaver's equipment.

It ended abruptly when he kicked at her tall chair and leapt back with a yip of pain. He cradled his toes and snarled. Catra rolled her eyes.

"Ya done, booger?" He drew up his hood. Catra growled. "Ok. That's it. Time for bed, cranky. Home now." Adam didn't move. "Ugh. Look, kid, if this is because you didn't get to break something of hers? Get over it. I had to deal with this lady for my whole childhood. No special powers. No one looking out for me. Did I flip out first chance I got?"

Adam refused to answer.

"Poor you," Catra said, "now if your done-"

Adam gave a weak, feral hiss when she got close. She frowned, snatched off his hood and leaned over to scold him. She stopped when she saw him twisting his face against the urge to weep in frustration. And what else had she expected? She knew patience was required but Adam didn't. Adam saw a chance and was trying to take it.

I'd do the same thing if I was him. She smoothed out his hair, and sighed.

"What am I gonna do with you,? Hey, Adam," she said, keeping her voice even, "aren't you tired?" She mimed a pillow. Adam scowled, tugging his hood down to hide his face. Catra knelt and pushed it back. He was playing with his hair. "Come on. You're sleepy. Everything seems worse when you're sleepy." She mimed a pillow again. Adam nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his arm. "Home?" She cupped his cheek and looked him in the eye. "Home, booger?"

"…home," he nodded, sniffing a little.

"You'll feel better tomorrow. Not by a lot but…its something, right?" She turned towards Shadow Weaver and patted her down, grinning when felt something rustle underneath. She slipped the notes out Shadow Weaver's robes and thumbed through them. "Hello, beautiful. Just what I need." She rose, looking Shadow Weaver over with a mean smile.

"You know what you did wrong?" she said to the prone woman. "You went after Adora. You gotta bring Adora to you. With the right bait." She laughed. "Oh, man, it's worth it to see you laid out on the floor. Just wish I was the one that put you there." She turned and saw Adam crouched on the ground. She whistled. He popped up in surprise, pocketing something.

"You still here, booger? Let's go. Bedtime." Adam frowned and pointed at her.

"Home?"

"You," she pointed back, then at herself and shook her head, "not me." His face fell. "Adam, I can't always be there for you. You shouldn't get dependent on other people. You know the way. Go on." She shooed him. "If you want to hang out with me so bad we'll take a trip somewhere soon. Maybe to the Academy. I need to get you reading and writing and doing other stupid stuff like math." She grinned at the notes. "You can't tell but this is the key to a whole new world for us. Leverage."

She turned to tease him and found that he had already gone away.

"…you'll thank me one day, kid. One day. When this is all over."

"W-what?" Shadow Weaver rasped suddenly. "What…". Catra grinned and threw herself into the black oak chair.

"Wakey-wakey, Shadow Weaver." Bloodshot pale eyes glared at her. "So…how you feeling?" Shadow Weaver tried to stand and couldn't bring herself up off the floor. Her palm slipped in the puddle of scrying water and Catra laughed loud and long. The sorceress made a hissing sound in the bottom of her throat.

"You are already dead, you little…" she fell into a hideous coughing fit, "…you little…"

"Dark Dream will be back soon, I bet." Shadow Weaver froze. She managed a shivering glare.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, so many things," Catra sighed happily, "but let's settle for a chance to get that magic sword back from Lord Hordak." She fluttered the notes in her hand. "I'll take these to him. Give him a rundown on our research. Make it seem like his idea, be deferential. Just like you taught me."

"You are not as clever as you think, Catra," Shadow Weaver growled.

"You are the expert on overestimating yourself," Catra grinned, "maybe I should listen. You have fun trying to stand up. I got places to be." She stepped over the fallen mage and gestured around her. "Oh. Adam redecorated a little. His way of saying thanks for all the fun stuff you put him through. Isn't he so sweet?"

"He will suffer twice what you will," Shadow Weaver roared, "I swear it by every-ack!" She slumped to the floor, coughing wetly. Catra leaned in the doorway, examining her nails.

"Uh-huh. Well, when you're done getting one of your lungs up through your throat? Might wanna head back to your quarters." Catra turned and strode away, tail whipping the air with satisfaction. "Busted door and all. Anybody could see you like this."

Was this the best day of her life? Maybe. Just maybe.

Adam huddled into his bed and ran his hands over the gold medallion. His wonder and curiosity slowly ebbed away. It had a blue ribbon and wasn't faded on one-side. He frowned sadly. He'd lost his little gold medallion years ago, playing with it in the old gray castle. How odd that Shadow Weaver should have one just like it. He indulged in a nervous tic he'd had since he was really little and slipped an edge into his mouth. The taste was sour and cold against his teeth.

But for a moment, as he drifted off to sleep, it reminded him of a time before Shadow Weaver, Dark Dream, and all the difficult thoughts that his powers brought him.

He wondered if the blonde-haired warrior was ok.

He hoped so.

Across the oceans of time and space that separated Etheria from the galaxy that was, a flicker of golden light flashed inside the mind of the falcon.

She looked up from her eyrie atop an old, crumbling gray castle and looked out on a planet slowly healing back towards its full health. She saw images and heard noises that made no sense to her animal mind. But, all the same, felt familiar somehow.

A door is open at the end of the hall. And a little fizzle of light draws her closer. The Trollan is hovering before the large double-crib, fussing with a burnt finger.

"Just this once," he whispers to himself, "just this once let the spell work…"

"Orko?" She asks. He spins and the fright in his soft, liquid-gold eyes gives way all at once. He straightens up, cocking back the brim of a broad red hat.

"You...you can't s-stop me," he says, keeping his voice soft, "not you or Duncan or anyone." He turns back and raises his hands. She advances, heart breaking at the betrayal. But she slows when she hears him speaking.

"Let not…" he stumbles, "no that's no good. Ever connected...oh, drat!"

"What are you doing, Orko?" The pity in her voice makes him draw up defiantly. He is not a proud creature, this Trollan, but he has his own kind of dignity.

"They deserve a chance," he says, "to find each other." She looks past him, pushing back the headdress of her office. She sees a pair of infants sleeping peacefully in the crib as if their homeworld isn't on the brink of collapse. "If you're going to separate them...they deserve a chance to find each other…"

The falcon's head twisted at the movement of a young desert hare and she darts for it. It is the millionth meal of its kind she's taken, though she can't know that. She doesn't age. She doesn't weaken with the passing of centuries. She flies about the old gray castle in long circuits, perched atop the statue of the warrior in the great hall, and, for reasons she can't understand, hops about beneath a wall with fading drawings of a child.

As she feasted on her prey a breath of air billowed up from the bottomless moat and brought with a distant sound like hollow metal laughter.

And for reasons the falcon can't remember she hunches down, head cocked, and feels a thrill of fear.