3
In the jilted, rocky mountains to the east of Bright Moon, amongst an ancient triumvirate of standing stones, the deplorable Shadow Weaver stood looking out across the sky; plotting the downfall of her greatest enemy. In her warped, magical mind, she'd conjured up a defined vision – of a place further than her mere eyes could see. The red cloaked creature twitched wildly on the spot - immediately getting a coherent glimpse of what she was looking for.
"She is coming. Alone." Shadow Weaver chuckled, patently pleased with her conjured vision. "This is proceeding even more splendidly than I had foreseen."
Two lieutenants of the evil Horde joined Shadow Weaver on her mountaintop perch. The insect-esque Scorpia made her presence known first, poking at a dying campfire with her pincer-like hands.
"Good. This waiting makes me itch for a fight. I can't wait to get my claws into that goody-goody minx." She stood up and stretched, showing off her toned body in its tight, shiny black bodice flecked with blood red. Her huge, red scorpion's tail hovered above her head like a constant threat.
Shadow Weaver nodded, understanding, as she turned to her other partner-in-crime, Enrapta.
"What about you, are you ready?"
"Sure." Entrapta – a statuesque goddess of a creature – cooed back. Her incredible body was poured into a metallic golden dress, which led to thigh high boots beneath a pleated pink and blue skirt. The dual colours matched those of her hair – her most alarming feature - immaculately plaited and falling all the way down her back all the way to the ground. "You know, I'm the best for a reason." As if to prove her point, she stooped to draw a firearm (of her own design) out of a black case on the ground, near the fire.
The weapon – fashioned like a larger version of the laser rifle favoured by the Horde, but with an outsized scope and an all-round bottle-green hue – glowed ominously in Entrapta's fondling grasp as she took her position, hidden from view among the standing stones. Behind the scope, the rounded shard of Doom Crystal sat in its customized hopper – emitting a slight hum, hinting at its boundless evil energy.
"Good."
Shadow Weaver closed her slits of eyes and concentrated to contact Catra – marching on the flatlands below them at the head of a company of Horde Troops - with her unerring telepathy.
Keep marching. She is coming. It will not be long.
Catra, eager as ever for a showdown with She-Ra, smiled to herself as she silently received and obeyed the message.
In the darkening sky above – mounted upon her fabulous steed, Swift Wind - She-Ra gave heroic chase to the supposedly fleeing Horde, her lustrous blonde hair and cape billowing behind her.
The Princess of Power looked hard ahead and almost immediately saw the grey-tinged ranks of the Horde Troops, marching swiftly towards Bright Moon's mountainous terrain, close to the coastline. Swift Wind whinnied, and gathered speed as the small shapes of She-Ra's enemies honed into a sharper view.
"Down, Swift Wind" She-Ra ordered softly, and the magnificent beast responded, drawing her low into a circular valley of sorts. To the left and right were moss-flecked rock faces, towering to about forty-feet high. Ahead was more of the same – yet with the rocks seemingly redder and angrier -opening into a slight gully to which the Horde was about to file through, heading towards a coastal path that led to the lips of the Singing River.
"Head up behind those rocks and keep watch, my dear." She-Ra stroked Swift Winds mane and whispered in her ear.
As the white-clad heroine dismounted and followed the party on foot, the marching stopped. The Horde Troops were already aware of her presence behind them on the open ground. The Princess counted the odds: perhaps twenty of them – and bog-standard troops at that – not likely to pose a massive problem in the peak physical shape she was in.
At the head of the party was a familiar figurehead; a svelte vision in red to stand out drastically from the greying masses.
She-Ra didn't falter – her red cape flapping behind her in the coastal breeze – the ground underfoot beginning to loosen into muddy, boggy terrain: caking the sides of her golden boots as she advanced.
"Catra, I knew you'd be behind this tomfoolery." She-Ra hollered at her scarlet-clad nemesis as the vixen stood grinning in the mouth of the gully, her hands on her hips. "Are you coming to play, or are you still in the middle of your disappearing act?"
Catra stood firm, yet didn't answer. The response came from high above and to the left of She-Ra, taking her aback slightly.
"We're all desperate to play with you, O Princess of Power." The voice was the sarcastic snarl of Shadow Weaver, who honed into view – spectre-like - across the mountainside to the left of the Princess.
She-Ra swallowed hard, ruing the ambush and her decision to ignore Glimmer's sound advice. She drew her sword and stepped forward, smiling to herself to restore her confidence.
"Well, well. Is this some kind of 'Horde Royal Welcoming Committee?' I can only say I'm touched." She-Ra ran a hand back through her thick mane.
"Not quite, your highness." hissed Shadow Weaver, floating menacingly above the rocks.
"I don't know, I'm certainly thrilled to see her!" Another, raspier, voice echoed out from among the rocks. She-Ra – noticeably flustered now – spun to see Scorpia appear at the opposite side of the gorge.
"Three meddling vixens, eh? This should take me a few more minutes, but not to worry…"
"Give yourself up, Princess. You have no chance." Shadow Weaver offered, with a meaningful wave of her hand.
With that, the Horde Troops began to move – attack formation – heading towards and around the heroine as she stood in the open ground.
"I'll deal with you next, Shadow Weaver." She-Ra bellowed, looking right and left, battle tactics quickly flickering through her brain. She closed her eyes and gave a swift prayer to Greyskull, before raising her magical sword and wading into the path of her impending enemies.
She-Ra began to fight, much to Shadow Weaver's cackling derision. This momentary distraction was all she needed, as the hovering villainess summoned Entrapta into action. The copiously haired siren shuffled into view from behind the trio of standing stones and primed her weapon: the hand-cannon fuelled by the Doom Crystal, aiming its cross-hairs immediately and directly at the battling figure of She-Ra.
The heroine's sword sent blasts of energy into, and slashed its way through the Horde ranks with ease. As she tossed another uniform Troop aside, She-Ra fixed Catra, unmoved behind the Horde numbers, in her sights. The Princess took the momentary chance to charge her sword full of energy and send a shimmering fireball-esque volley at her foe. Slipping her eye-mask down over her face – its green cats-eyes flashing – Catra avoided the blast and slipped into an invisible state.
"Come on." She-Ra boomed as the feline villainess vanished into the darkening air.
As the Princess fought far below her, Entrapta advanced, steadied herself and pulled the trigger; changing the rules of the battle an instant.
"Uhhh!" The heavy green blast caught She-Ra awkwardly on the shoulder, sending her flying; spinning several times through the air, stunned by the monumental and unexpected power of the Doom Crystal. The Princess fell hard into the bog, flecks of mud enveloping her shimmering white dress as her powerful body juddered with the shock. Worst of all, her mighty sword fell from her grasp in the moment, plunging deep into the mud a few feet to the side of her.
Fear seized She-Ra instantly. She attempted to get to her feet but struggled, a deep sense of worry flowing through her. Even the mighty Hordak was never able to deliver a knockout blow like she'd just been hit with. And desperately, by the love of Greyskull, she needed the sword.
Scorpia made her move from the cliffs and leapt from the rocks – somersaulting high through the air and dropped to the ground behind She-Ra and with a practiced whip of her deadly tail, she had brought the heroine's precious sword from the mire into her own, pincer-like clutches.
"No!" She-Ra cried out, her voice raw and sore as her talisman was taken from her.
Her Mistress clearly in trouble, Swift Wind burst from the cover of the rocks and bulldozed through the remaining Horde Troops, knocking them left and right like skittles. As the mighty beast sped into a gallop, heading for Scorpia and the sword, another demonic green blast from above sent the steed falling lifelessly to the ground.
"Bullseye." Entrapta exclaimed proudly as a green haze rose up like gunpowder from the 'Doom Cannon'.
"Swift Wind!" She-Ra gasped, staggering to her feet. The momentary diversion left the Princess prone to another, accurate blast from Enrapta's dreaded, evil fuelled cannon. The secondary blast hit the Princess fully in the chest, and knocked her down once more; flat on her back into the mud. She shivered as she lay, helpless, her body immersed in a seizing, all-encompassing grasp of pain. She-Ra's eyes struggled to stay open. Now, it seemed, was the moment of her doom.
"She's alive, for now." Shadow Weaver called calmly to She-Ra as she lay defeated in the swampy undergrowth. "As are you. The pair of you have an important appointment to keep. At the Fright Zone."
Looking up and around, She-Ra saw the caped form of Catra appear from her state of invisibility mere feet ahead of her; shadow bearing down on her. Try as she might, her body wouldn't follow the defensive instincts of her mind. The Princess of Power was in shock; she'd never experienced anything like it. What manner of weapon could this be?
Fear enveloped She-Ra: binding her soul – now a tangible force. Her enemies gathered ahead of her, powerful and bristling with intention. Her resistance was failing, her doom imminent.
