De Author Seez: this is going to be a BIG (like history-shaking) update. Please bear with it before sending scathing reviews! Pretty please?

Onwards...

What The Open Court Witnessed - part 1

"Thus, this Court is declared…open."

Jacco Arbinni, Herad of the Royal Court, looked every bit as relieved to have uttered those words as the two hundred Nobles, Invited Petitioners, and Guildsmembers who had sat in attendance of his two-minute recitation of the purpose behind the next 10 days of games, conferences and whatnot. It was a fairly pointless recitation at that, given everyone and their brother through their second-cousins-thrice-removed knew the purpose of the Open Court. More to the point, all but a few newcomers had been regular attendees to the same. Yet Jacco was an old hand at making such pronouncements and still managed to make it all sound fresh and exciting as the first one.

The Open Summer Court was not, as some thought, a single night's event that consumed a season's worth of produce and cooking in one sitting. Rather it was ten days of audiences with both the Royal family and their Ministers, performances by artists both local and foreign, yard sports matches, and quiet conferences over shared meals where literally thousands of matters both large and small were talked out or negotiated over or recognized as mere trifles not worth the bother they'd caused. It was these interactions, casual as well as formal, whereby the peace of the kingdom was held and reinforced.

This being the twenty-fifth such Court held, it was now so commonplace a routine that few remarked or even remembered that the original idea had been Queen Marlena's when it was clear to her how Randor was floundering – badly – at managing the Kingdom's business. As fine a leader and honest a man as he was, Randor proved terrible at the most basic skill of management: knowing when to delegate. He'd taken to treating every issue and dispute he heard of as an immediate crisis, solvable only through his personal intervention, and it was a minor miracle he hadn't worried himself bald or worked himself into an early grave. Marlena quietly stepped in with the idea of getting the various nobles and landowners together and let them hash out their issues directly but in as casual a setting as possible, a similar arrangement having worked to her benefit back on Earth during her early career in the private sector. That it filled the coffers of the farmers and merchants who populated Eternos was an extra benefit that made the Open Court, making it all the more vital to the kingdom's stability.

The real challenge in planning the Open Court was simply scheduling everything so the correct people were in the same space at the right time, engaging in the activity – be it a recital, a game of croquette, or a meal with a specific member of the King's Cabinet – most likely to put the parties at ease and ensure the necessary exchanges of words and sentiments occurred. In contrast to that bit of adroit logistics and subtle manipulation, planning the First Night's Dinner and Reception – when petitioners and participants were all brought together for the opening night's feast – was simplicity itself, and was the one bit of the entire affair that both the Queen and the Prince felt was best planned and organized by the Maid of the Court without their input; the King was emphatically forbidden from being involved with any of the preparations, and thus had no vote in the matter.

That the Herald had to stand before that lot and bellow what they already knew had often proved the greatest trial for most of the attendees, which spoke volumes about the success of the Court.

For himself, Prince Adam – seated appropriately at his father's right hand – had long ago resolved to keep the Open Court and its various little quirks unchanged once he took the Crown. Having Teela seated beside him as opposed to standing at attention behind him, and now clad in a pale violet wraparound dress that gathered at her left shoulder rather than her Mess Dress Uniform, was equally welcome (even as it caused many an eye-brow to be raised and an equal number of attendees to spear the Captain with looks of every description).

Teela ignored them, of course, but not out of conscious intent or true effort. Her attention was simply taken up by the solitary piece of jewelry she wore to this function: a simple band of white gold, topped with a tiny diamond, fit snuggly upon the third finger of her right hand. She made a subtle show of displaying this at every opportunity, and the sight of it was not missed by any and all with eyes and at least two brain cells still firing.

For those who lacked such attributes – and they did exist – there were ample number of stories circulating throughout the palace the past many days of how said ring became nestled upon her finger; granted, not one of said stories agreed with one another on any critical detail…save that the Prince and his Captain were now engaged to be wed. Whether it was the case (as one telling had it) that the Prince went down on one knee and recited some obscure epic poem as his proposal, or (as another related) the exchange between the pair was carried out with all the passion and affection of trading three bushels of grain for an elderly mule no-one wanted anymore, the reality of the Royal Engagement was now widespread and welcome news.

The fact many amongst the mavens and courtiers saw their dreams of becoming the Princess-Consort evaporate that night was a discrete if welcome development for the Prince's blood pressure and peace of mind as he'd now need not worry one or more of said mavens and courtiers would turn up as smears on the corridor walls. Teela could be…prickly…when it came to certain interactions, after all, especially if she didn't have something otherwise weighty to keep her attention focused and off the silliness of Court life. Going by how often she was glancing at her finger, it looked like he'd succeeded there.

With Jacco's final declaration, it was the King's turn to rise cleared his throat. "Only a fool would attempt to better the words of one whose life and trade are fine words," he opined. "Let it be known that your King is no fool." He offered the room an expansive smile and added "He says and does many foolish things, true, but is never a fool about it."

An honest and true chuckle rippled through the room like a living wave, dispelling whatever remaining tension there was in the grand hall. This was another small quirk to this first night's dinner: the chance for the King to indulge in self-deprecation and comedy. Sargent, later Captain and later still General Randor was as infamous for his prankish nature as for his martial ability, and he privately missed the chance to indulge those silly impulses more than most knew.

But the moment to do so had passed, and it was the King of Eternos who raised his goblet. The move was mirrored by the Queen Marlena, Prince Adam, Teela, and all others presently seated. Randor schooled his expression and said "We are gathered now to ensure the peace we enjoy, and by extension the prosperity it brings us all, endures past today. And I say the following not as your Sovereign, but as your fellow countryman." The goblet was raised higher still in formal salute, the action mirrored by all other hands present.

"To the peace," The King vowed.

"To the peace!" was the echo of over a hundred voices.

The King seated himself once more and gave a clear nod over to The Maid of the Court, who stood to one end of the hall, her four fellows stationed by the entrances on the east, south, and north walls. Maureen raised her hands and clapped once, the other four mirroring this with her, the result being as resounding a tone as if they'd drug the old brass gong that was gathering dust in the cellars. It worked all the same as a well-disciplined line of servers bearing large trays streamed through the doors and into the hall. They moved with precision and grace that was the envy of military drill; that Maureen directed them by subtle gesture and glance merely cemented the Royal's faith in her. That, plus the fact she'd had the foresight to color-code the long tables the attendees sat themselves at, ensured the requisite dishes went to the correct attendee and made the whole thing look like it had been practiced a thousand times before.

As the dishes and wines were being served, the air became alive with the soft melody of the Pan'cel Sisters latest arrangement of strings and woodwinds. Gae Pan'cel had been one of the Palace Maids before her musical hobbies had been discovered by the Queen, who had been ecstatic at the discovery and had quietly funded the lessons that had turned her and her three siblings into one of the kingdom's premier musical troupe. They had played at each of the opening and closing evenings meals for the last five years, their confidence in their art and boldness in compositions increasing with each year. To Adam's experienced ear – their parents had not the slightest inkling how many such feasts and concerts Adam and Teela had attended over their years – the Pan'cel Quartet were ready for performance in more notable venues; a Royal Wedding, for example.

Teela caught the slight grin that curved his lips right then, and gave him a subtle-but-firm kick to his shin. "No," she murmured over her wine.

"You object?" Adam replied with a raised eye-brow.

Teela took a slow bite of her Pherent breast before answering. "Of course not, at least of their inclusion. But to ask them to play the wedding march? No, that's too much for a troupe of just one C'tar, one harpsichord, and two phonin players." She tried a bit of the sap'hoi bean mix, clicking her tongue in distaste. "Marsh salt," was her only comment.

"The Presentation, then?" Adam queried, prepared to argue the point if necessary.

"There, and at the Formal." This caught the Prince off-guard; the Formal – capital "F" – was the period wherein those invited to the wedding proper would file into the Shrine and await the opening of the ceremony. It was generally considered the third most important moment of a Royal wedding, the Vows and the Presentation afterwards being above it. "A four-troupe will be perfect for both."

"Dare I ask about the March?" Adam moaned with faux-drama as the March – again, capital "M" – was when the bride would be escorted to the altar, usually by the groom's own parents to demonstrate their approval of the match, while the bride's parents would be standing behind the groom to demonstrate the same…and to ensure neither bride nor groom had any avenue of escape should they get cold feet. The music was always loud to ensure nobody could hear the last-minute haggling going on between the two sides over dowry or estate or the like…or the various and dire threats that invariably passed between the same.

"Oh, that I leave to you and the Queen," Teela stated, forestalling further discussion with another bite of her pherent, both of them knowing full well Marlena would insist upon the Army's horns-and-drums to play the kingdom's anthem while she and Randor escorted her to Adam's side.

There was strong merit to the decision as Teela's career had been in the Palace Guard, and thus made her a Commander de-facto in the regular army. The army would surely take it quite personally if they were not allowed to see one of their own off. Why, they might even get super-aggressive at the annual Guards-Garrison rugby match that year as to put some of the opposition in hospital…which would irritate the Maid of the Court mightily as her Guardsman would surely be amongst the casualties…which would in turn upset the Queen to fury as she disliked anything that upset the palace staff in general, and her's in particular…which would surely enrage his wife quite beyond reason as the Guard was her's alone to mangle, kick, and otherwise batter into the elite force it was…

Yes, there was very strong merit to going along with a decision that had already been surely made without him. Adam grinned and muttered "The story of my life, really."

"Indeed, Captain," Teela murmured knowingly in Aetherian sandspeak.

"Careful, My Queen,"Adam chided in the more-guttural dialect of the Icepeaks. "You still have not atoned for a certain trespass regarding…"

"You will be silent on that, My Captain!" Teela's stated with a grin her wineglass only partially obscured, which did nothing to obscure the censure and command in the words. That she spoke in the same dialect as Adam, emphatically not her preferred, merely underlined the order that Adam looked perfectly at peace with ignoring.

He was saved from that knowing folly by his mother. "What are you two hissing and growling about?" Marlena asked as the Pan'cel sisters completed their first arrangement to restrained if genuine applause.

"Nothing of consequence, Mianthri," Teela stated, still smiling as she sipped her Bolerman.

"Hmm," the Queen of Eternia purred. "What say you two to this quartet playing at your ceremony?"

"We'll seat them for both The Formal and for The Presentation," Adam stated, then gave Teela a look of apology that was all things save apologetic. "I'm afraid it'll be the Army's horns-and-drums for the Wedding March."

Teela made a show of crinkling her nose. "You know I hate that crashing noise they call music." This declaration stood in clear contradiction to her past admiration of the band's performance, and was therefore ignored.

"Oh? You'd prefer the Civic, then?" The Army, which revered the Queen equally with the King, would be willing to stand aside if she decreed the Civil Orchestra play The March. Indeed, they'd likely insist on it if the Queen gave even a hint of preference in that direction. Teela added an unpleasant curve of the lip to her wrinkled nose and looked ready to say something indelicate.

"We'll discuss that at a later date," Marlena stated, not wanting her recently-restored internal equilibrium to be needlessly tested by refereeing a ridiculous argument between her children, and all over an issue that was hardly their affair to begin with. Lady Alexhandra had been quietly turning the gears to ensure the children's wedding – superfluous as the ceremony ultimately was given Adam and Teela's true ages, something the elder peer knew without asking or telling – was naught but a turn-key affair when the date was finalized. Of the few who knew of her efforts, only Marlena truly appreciated how much work the elder peer was putting into this and labored equally hard to keep all others from interfering (however unknowingly). Putting the word to her son and daughter-in-law to shut it was certainly the most satisfying of such efforts.

As if to underline the Queen's sanction, Teela's elbow unintentionally – and utterly improbably – knocked off a steak knife from the table, which – equally improbably and not a little unbelievably – bounced off the floor and – in knowing defiance of the fundamental laws of energy and motion – came up in a graceful arch…to bury itself in the table between Adam and Teela. They in fact appeared to be the only ones to present to have witnessed this distortion of both common sense and basic physics, neither of them consciously reacting to it and calmly replacing the knife to its original location at Adam's left.

"Did you do that?" the Prince asked of his wife, who shook her head once. "Your Friend?"

Teela glanced over to the far wall, where Cringer was lounging unobtrusively. "Its busy giving Cringer back-rubs," she stated.

Adam gave a mental shrug and picked up his wineglass. "Perhaps we should start watching the shadows for you-know-who," he observed coolly, barely able to hold himself still at Teela's response.

"Perhaps we should," she agreed, the suddenly-rigid set of her shoulders bespeaking thunderous panic held in check by only the thinnest margin. He quickly reached over and covered her hand with his and gave it a gentlest squeeze.

"Tee," he started in Eternian, then switched to sandspeak. "You know she wouldn't do anything to truly injure others…or us." The last was added more in afterthought. For all the threats their third-born and eldest-lived child had rained upon their ears, few had ever materialized. Yet those few occasions had amply demonstrated the seriousness of her intent; her lopping off her father's remaining arm or gouging out her mother's surviving eye with her bare hands would, if anything, had been less terrifying than those occasioned demonstrations.

One of the Butlers appeared at Adam's elbow and murmured "Your Highness? A late delivery requiring your inscription."

"Of?" Adam asked, frowning. They'd taken the final deliveries of all produce and sundries the previous day.

"It was not stated, Your Highness."

A puzzled glance was exchanged between the Prince and former Captain, followed by the former turning to his father with an upraised eyebrow. "Father? By your leave?"

Randor gave his son a quick look, but a measure one that was immediately followed by a clear nod of agreement. "Teela, go with him," was the King's only directive. Both the Prince and his intended smoothly slid back from their table and exited with the hall with barely a word or eye-brow raised. Their absence in fact went completely unnoticed as the Pan'cels took up playing a rather bold imaging of the Eternos anthem, one that emphasized string over horn. It was enchanting to say the least, certainly enough to give Adam and Teela cover for their departure.

The Butler led the pair to a side corridor, one not so far from the kitchens and pantries where deliveries would normally be brought. Teela's apprehension spiked when they ended up at the Scarlet Parlour, the single location in the entire palace whose use could not be scheduled beforehand, not even by the Queen's own Maids. It was the exclusive domain of the Royal Family, and could only be utilized at their personal direction. The King's portfolio and duties were ill-matched for such a setting and so he had little traffic there, while the opposite was true for both the Prince and Queen, and both had made liberal use of the space over the years; usually it was to quiet some small scandal-in-the-making or put the hard word to a courtier who was stirring up troubles unneeded.

Teela's confusion only deepened when it was the Butler – whose name she could not yet recall, her cheeks coloring slightly in shame for it – produced the key to the parlour door from his waistcoat and opened it; only members of the Royal Family itself should have possessed such a key. That mystery was solved by the Butler immediately handing the key back to Adam, her relief at this instantly dispelled by the sight of a slight and unassuming looking citizen, one clad in silk jacket and shirt and holding a small box, waiting for them within and looking not at all fazed by the opulent tapestries that covered the walls and darkened the room into something vaguely dangerous. That there were no chairs or sofas, no furniture at all in fact, should have at least unsettled this visitor a tiny bit, yet Teela detected no anxiety in him. Most curious.

"Thank you, Master Sethten," Adam nodded as he accepted the key from the Butler. "Please return to your duties." He then turned to speak to his visitor. "Master Arnaud, welcome to you."

"And to you, Your Highness," the man said, offering a small bow at the waist. Teela concluded he was not of the nobility, protocol dictating a bending of the knee being the appropriate greeting to The Prince. Arnaud offered the box in his hands to the Prince, who opened it to examine the contents, making sure to keep himself between here and whatever it was he saw. It apparently met The Prince's expectations as he quickly exchanged the box for a small purse he smoothly retrieved from his jacket pocket.

Master Arnaud frowned as he tipped the contents of the purse into his hand, eyes widening at the sight of several gold Marks – each clearly of the rare 500 denomination – falling into his open palm. "Your Highness…" he stuttered. "Your voucher more than settled…this is…"

Adam moved the box to his still-stiff right hand and used his left to close Arnaud's hand about the Marks. "This...is not even a fraction of what I owe you for this. I suspect I shall have additional commissions for you in days to come."

Hearing this gave Teela the necessary clues to his identity, which only deepened her confusion of this meeting. If memory served, this man - Arnaud Schwyn - was both a jeweler of some small distinction in the Kingdom, mainly due to being a private favorite of the Queen's. He rarely worked with actual gemstones or jewels, but instead with uncut stones and quartzes, fashioning them into things often as beautiful as crafted diamonds.

His presence there and the exchange with Adam meant her husband had engaged a commission from him, which led her to frown in confusion. Exactly when could he have done so, especially given they'd been barely out of each other's sight since their return here. Even their expeditions to the markets and warehouses at Maureen's instigation had been done together. Teela's frown deepened when she recalled that Master Arnaud's work was particularly time-intensive, so Adam couldn't have made his request within only the past few days…

Her thoughts stopped there as Adam turned to face her, the box open and its contents in clear display.

Everything else – the music outside, the unending bustle just beyond the door, Master Arnaud's discrete departure, the opulent and intimidating surroundings – all of it melted away at her first sight of…it.

To any other's eyes, it would appear as no more than a simple pendant: a thin silver chain holding onto a small, winged figure carved from dark stone. They would know nothing of what the figure – named Ahn'li-Skym-Yood in the language of the Aetheria desert dwellers – symbolized to the tribes of wanderers and scavengers who had pledged themselves for all eternity to the Queen of Great Serpents, never mind what it meant to the Queen herself.

Teela's eyes narrowed as she studied the pendant, scowling hard and seeking imperfections or errors in the shape or proportions that…weren't there. Master Arnaud had clearly put great effort into this piece, as had Adam in providing him the precise dimensions and style to use. This was every bit as perfect as the oldest and most accomplished craft-cutters her Scaled Horde called upon, and it pained her heart in ways too difficult to describe without resorting to religious or metaphysical clap-trap. So much so she had to turn away and close her eyes tight against the onslaught of emotion. Age provided no bulwark nor dam against this, and Teela actually felt herself start to sway a bit before she realized she'd stopped breathing.

Adam had apparently taken this as acquiescence on her part, as he was soon slipping the pendant around her neck. He closed the chain's small clap together and whispered, in sandspeak, the following: "Gift, vow, pledge, or promise. Which do you accept of me?"

Teela waited, as tradition called, for the clasp to be closed and the Ahn'li-Skym-Yood nestled at the base of her throat before answering in the same tongue "Promise for promise." She reached around and grasped both his wrists so he could not pull away. "My vow to yours," she continued, maneuvering his hands and arms so the wrapped around her, his powerful hands hovering over her heart. "Pledge for my pledge," was stated, then she shifted their joined hands so they came to rest at a place just below her navel.

"My gift…ours," she whispered for his ears alone.

Adam chuckled nervously as Teela's grip on him held fast. "Do you really want to give the children yet another sibling?" he asked, more in jest than sincerity.

Teela grinned and leaned back into the embrace. "Nyssa, likely the twins as well, are doubtless furious we haven't done so already."

As if to underscore the point, the tapestries all swayed for exactly seven seconds from a phantom wind that could neither be felt nor heard. Neither of them moved for a moment, wondering if there was more to come, but the tapestries stilled and nothing more was heard. They remained as they were for another, longer moment in time, content with their vows and their temporary solitude in the quiet.

Quiet…

Teela stiffened, followed instantly by Adam. "Do you hear that?" she asked needlessly, his tension making clear he heard exactly what she did: nothing. No music or bustle and movement outside, both of which could and had been heard beyond the doors from the start. All was suddenly quiet.

Without a word or look passing between them, the pair moved smoothly and silently to the closed doors, Adam on the left and Teela to the right. Teela retrieved her collapsible staff from the folds of her gown and held it at the ready, Adam's hand resting lightly on the handle of the power sword. At the unspoken, unseen signal between them, the parlour doors were cracked open and the two breezed into corridor beyond.

The silence outside proved all the more shocking at the sight that greeted them: two butlers and one Maid frozen in mid-step at various spots in the corridor. Adam sidled up to the nearest one, noting with a distant touch of panic to see the butler's eyes were anything but frozen, the brown-shaded irises darting about wildly in panic wholly at odds with his otherwise calm expression. Adam put his hand onto the man's shoulder and murmured into his ear "Calmly, friend. Calmly. Breath through your nose."

Being sure to keep Teela in sight at all times, Adam quickly checked the opposite ends of the corridor, noting without surprise that this paralysis appeared to extend further than their immediate surroundings. He could see another server moving around the corner, frozen in mid-turn which left the poor soul standing at a slight angle that was sure to give them muscle aches.

Adam sniffed the air, but detected no new scents or telltale signs of gas. There few substances he knew of that could leave a body paralyzed so thoroughly and so suddenly that they were left as naught but statues of stone (albeit one that allowed the subject to continue to breath, provided they kept their wits), and each of them left a telling aroma in their wake; yet, there was none of them he could smell. Either a new substance had been discovered somewhere, of they were dealing with something far more insidious.

Clearly the same had occurred to Teela, who commanded him without sight, word or gesture to hurry forward so they could return to the main hall. The two paused for but a single heaving breath, positioning themselves so Adam crouched low while Teela held her staff ready to strike above, then entered the great banquet hall with all the speed and implacability of hurricane winds – albeit winds every bit as silent and invisible as a calm summer's breeze.

The sight in the banquet hall was no more reassuring than in the corridor, and all the more surreal to see over two hundred seated nobles and citizens, plus a score of butlers and servers, all frozen in mid-movement. It could have been a perfectly rendered holo-snap of the banquet in progress, save for the tangible atmosphere of panic and terror that pervaded the air.

Adam quickly straightened and casually strode forward to stand in the open space between the Royal's table and those seating the guests. "Friends and family," he called out calmly, eyes darting everywhere and focusing upon nothing. "Please be calm. Some manner of sorcery is at play here, but it does not appear malicious. I say this in confidence because all of you can clearly still breath. If the intent was murder, your lungs would be every bit as immobile as your muscles." He paused for a breath so this would sink in, hopefully remind some of the more panic-prone there to use of those lungs and keep themselves alive until Teela could work out precisely what manner of spell was in play (and came up with a way to reverse it). That his wife was fairly gliding about the periphery, eyes turned to black pools, seeking just that meant it was vital Adam keep attention upon himself so she could work.

Continuing to meander about the floor casual as you please, Adam went on saying "One does wonder if this isn't old Bonehead's work, conducting yet another bone-headed effort against his kin and the Crown." Adam paused and cupped both hands about his mouth, bellowing "Is this your doing, Skeletor? Hmm?"

He stood there for a moment, as if actually expecting the master of Snake Mountain to respond. In truth, Adam was actually paralyzed in shock. He had the strange sense, seemingly out of nowhere, that Eternia's arch-fiend knew nothing of these developments…that his sorcerer's sight was blocked from seeing any of this…and that very possibility was sufficient to leave the veteran of a thousand battles momentarily frozen in mindless panic as if he were picking up the sword for the first time. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam noted Teela pausing in her own wanderings, eyes momentarily clearing and meeting his, communicating the same thought had come to her as well. The fact she wasn't denying this all to be the case…well, it didn't help his mental disposition in the slightest.

Adam clenched his teeth and mentally shook off his panic and paralysis. If Skeletor wasn't at the back of this madness, clarity of mind and action were all the more vital. But that was no easy target to reach, especially given how this damned, suffocating silence was grating his nerves. Mother and Goddess, it was actually bad enough he was starting to hear things hissing at them from the corners.

That thought brought Adam up short. Yes, he was damned old now (his physicality notwithstanding), but he'd never, ever been one to panic nor hallucinate like this. What in the name of the Nine Crowns and Stars was happening to him? He threw a hard glance at the nearest corner, noticing for the first time how the shadows had somehow lengthened. Yes, the lighting in the great hall was deliberately kept indirect and diffuse, most especially amid great events like this, so shadows were by no means absent. But what his eyes perceived right then was the darkness of the corners first deepening, then literally seeping outwards like slow-flowing oil.

The hissing that came with that self-same darkness…that was real as well. "Teela," Adam called out, abandoning any pretense of calm and smoothly unsheathing the Power Sword, adopting a familiar right-guard stance.

"I see it," Teela called back, gliding on bare feet (she'd kicked off her court shoes before re-entering the hall) to come back to his side. She held her cobra staff fully extended in precise left-guard stance, its head tilted downwards slightly so to obscure the dull glow pulsing it its faux-mouth.

"What is it?" Adam hissed, eyes in constant motion, measuring the movement and speed of these shadow-things, unaccustomed sweat breaking out on his temple at both its – whatever in creation It was – presence, and the admission his wife hissed in reply.

"I do not know," Teela growled. "I can see it, but cannot perceive it!"

"How can that be?" Adam managed to choke out. Sight and perception were wholly different things with her, the latter ever greater than the former. For it to be flipped…and at a moment such as this…?

"Again, I do not know!" Teela snarled this, her uncharacteristic frustration showing true. This left blind terror again nipping at Adam's mind and soul, leading him to clench his teeth and adjust his grip on the sword, body instinctively tensing to charge forward. An understandable impulse, as the shadow-thing that surrounded them now had begun sprouting pairs of glowing, slit-like "eyes" by the dozens, each pair matched by a wide mouth displaying decidedly wicked fangs.

Snake Men Adam's mind supplied, his grip on the sword becoming white-knuckled. He glanced this way and that, trying to guage how many Snake Soldiers were about to descend upon them, quickly finding even that simple task impossible as the eyes seemed in constant motion. How could that devil Hiss have managed to summon such a tumult upon them? This unknown merely left Adam all the more prepared to lunge forward and start swinging.

But Teela's next words held him fast, wiping all that away and leaving him stunned. "Summon the power," she ordered. Adam glanced over his shoulder towards her, his green eyes meeting her blue, and the pleading that was the foundation of that directive was reflected in her clear eyes.

Her power could not save them now – as impossible as that was to credit – and his could.

"Stand away from me," he ordered her, and Teela withdrew several steps, the glow from her staff-head gaining strength and seemingly pushing the encroaching darkness back a little. Adam saw this but put it from his mind, instead forcing his unusually-stiff arm to hold the Power Sword aloft.

"Friends and nobles," he called out, not loudly but clearly enough for it to echo within those walls. "Forgive what you witness now." He closed his eyes and offered a breath of silent prayer, citing no particular deity or name, asking for strength to endure the next moments.

"By the power of Greyskull…" he called out, voice deep and without even a shade of reluctance or doubt.

The cascade of lightning that crashed into being before the last syllable was even uttered seemed magnified a thousand times over in the hall. It did not dispel the relentless, oozing darkness by any means, but certainly its progress was momentarily halted as the world became white with heat and noise so powerful it fairly threatened to leave all present blind and deaf.

Those few in position to actually view the scene directly – this included the King, Queen, and their Man-at-Arms – were indeed left momentarily blinded, and so missed seeing how the downpour of light and energy abruptly shifted to flow across the floor to where Teela stood, engulfing her whole, and then further on to the section of wall where a certain Eternian tiger had been lounging.

All of this finished in the literal blink of an eye, a final crash of thunder signaling an end to the storm of blazing power.

Where the Prince of Eternia stood, now was the Champion of Greyskull.

And he was not alone.

tbc...