Chapter XXVII: The Parting
Skeletor blundered into Evil-Lyn's chambers like one possessed, quite literally at the point of knocking down the door before even checking whether or not it was open. When it finally dawned on him to do so, he found it unlocked. T
urning the knob, he slid into the room with none of his usual bluntness. He found it devoid of its owner, and so began to search elsewhere, aware that he was moving much more quietly than usual. If it had been possible, he would have smirked. This would be an interesting encounter.
......................
From her kneeling position in the empty chamber, Evil-Lyn's eyelids flickered slowly open. He was coming closer, and she knew it would not take him long to reach her. On a whim, she reached a slender hand up to her helmet and pulled it off by one of the spikes. Her shoulder-length hair came tumbling slowly down her neck. Lyn set her helmet to the side, a small grin on her face. Even though Lyn did know where her mother currently was, the young Dereskian was certain Moria would have been pleased.
The door to the chamber opened, and Moria's daughter did not have to turn to know who had entered. "Hello, Skeletor," she said, her voice the epitome of calmness.
Her back was to the door, so she could not tell if his pause was from surprise or altering of positions before he replied. "Evil-Lyn." In those three syllables, the young Dereskian heard everything she needed to know. His tone was cold and unfeeling, as it was a good deal of the time, but this voice also held the tiniest glimmer of opportunity and exploitation.
Had Lyn not been in her calmed and desire-less state, it would have inspired fear. Instead, it simply was. There were no new feelings blossoming within her, nothing that made her spine shiver. She was, and He was, and that was all that mattered. "Was there something you wanted?" she asked coolly, her back still to him.
"Yes, actually," he answered, his tone growing more fierce. He strode up to her and wrenched her arm, pulling her towards him and yanking her hair until she looked into his face. "Your mother's power. You are the key to it, and I want it. How do I get it?"
Lyn's face remained expressionless, even when his claw-like fingernails dug into her scalp. "You don't," she supplied, her tone lacking any emotion. "It is not for you to possess."
"Is that so?" he questioned, pulling her hair cruelly, raising his staff in his other hand as if to strike her. "Allow me to offer a second opinion." He fired a bolt of energy from the havoc staff, a smug smile on his face as the bolt traveled the few inches... and hit empty air. Amazed, he clenched his hand on the handful of Lyn's hair.
She was no longer attached to it. He felt a small touch at his shoulder, and whirled just in time to see Evil-Lyn, her hair cropped neatly at the base of her neck. Her face betrayed nothing, not even when her fist connected with his stomach and sent him, winded, to his knees.
Almost as if she were watching the events instead of being a part of them, Lyn's staff appeared in her hands, and as Skeletor struggled to his feet, another blow, this time from her booted heel, straight to the skull sent him sprawling.
Outraged, he practically flew to his feet, staff in hand, and fired a series of bolts from it, each one containing enough force to blow a hole the size of a fist through a three-layered metal wall.
None of them landed. Whirling her staff like one possessed, the young Dereskian either dodged the attacks or deflected them, using her staff as a shield as well as a means to move faster than he could see. Smoke filled the room, and cleared, and Lyn emerged behind him, vaulting over his head and bringing her staff down, not reacting when he barely deflected it in time. She continued in her arc, spinning in the air before landing gracefully on her feet.
"You've been practicing," he observed, not a hint of compliment in his voice. "I don't think I like that." He ran at her unprotected back, which was once again facing him. Bringing his staff down like a sword, he swung the weapon down with all his might.
"I don't think you have much of a say in it," the young woman replied, bringing her own staff up in defense, blocking it and falling down to one knee out of the sheer force of his blow. She leapt to the side, out of the way, using her momentum to spring back to her feet, facing him a few paces away.
The battle continued on for the next few hours, each firing spell after spell, muttering incantation after incantation until Skeletor was left growing angrier and angrier, while Lyn remained cool and clam.
As he looked at her, Skeletor was forced to admit she had improved greatly. Angry, he wondered how he had ever allowed that to happen right under his nose. He set his staff aside, instead grasping his sword from behind his back. Lyn's forte was in spell casting, and he knew that. Better to beat her off with brute force. He separated his sword into its two halves, and would have grinned had he been able. Unless he was greatly deceived, Lyn was far from a sword mistress.
As it was, Moria's daughter did not flinch. He had forgotten that while it was true her own skills with a blade were far from impeccable; her mother's were not. And it was with her mother that Lyn had practiced. Moria, who, like Skeletor, favored two swords over one, and used them with a practiced accuracy come with more years of experience than Skeletor had been alive.
So it was that when he chose his swords over his staff, Lyn didn't bat an eye. Rather, she remained in the detached state of consciousness her mother had perfected. She brandished her staff before her, her eyes set and mouth closed.
The Overlord of Evil regarded her for a moment. "I don't really see why you find it necessary to defend your mother's power, Evil-Lyn," he remarked, almost casually. "It is not as if you benefit any from her wielding it."
"And I don't see why her power would interest you, Skeletor," Lyn replied, her tone not reflecting the fact that she rushed at him with her staff held behind her head, leaping into the air. "Particularly when you could not use it, even if you knew how to access it."
The young woman tucked her staff close to her stomach, spiraling head over feet in the air, traversing over Skeletor's head to bring her staff down in a swooping arc. He blocked it, and she continued in her arc, mistaking her footing and landing on her knees, forced to extend her free hand to recover her balance. Her back was once again turned to him as she regained her balance and remained on her knees.
"Lies!" he cried out angrily. "I do not believe you." Using his magic, he summoned two boulders from a nearby stalagmite formation, lifting them into the air. "You guard your mother's strength because you fear what would happen if I should possess it," he finished, hurling the enormous rocks at her unguarded back.
As the rocks sped towards her, Lyn raised her staff much like a sword. "You only say that because you do not understand how the Collective works," she commented, almost absentmindedly twisting her body. She called light from the ball of her staff, causing a liquid-hot heat to course down the polished surface of her weapon. One of her legs extended as she used her other knee to pivot, slicing through the boulders with her now white-hot staff. "If you did," she continued, rising to her feet with her now normal- temperature staff next to her face, "you would realize that only a Dereskian can wield the power of Eläni and the Red Moon. The Collective is a force fueled by a single memory of those who have come before us. One memory, one portion of their life force, for every deceased Dereskian being. Therefore, only a Dereskian can wield it."
Even as she spoke, she murmured an incantation in the back of her mind, causing great sections of the rock around them to unfurl like vines, wrapping themselves around Skeletor's ankles, wrists, and torso.
He did not realize her actions until too late, feeling the impenetrable stone digging into his flesh. "Aah!" he cried out angrily. His swords were held fast in his arms, and he was unable to use them to free himself. Lyn regarded him coolly, her staff whirling between her fingers, a flying blaze of violet light. He glared angrily at her, his eye sockets red and blazing with hate.
Evil-Lyn's expression remained the same as it had the entire fight. Idly, she looked at his helplessness, a flash of her staff removing his swords from his grasp, as well as locking his havoc staff in place so that he could not summon it. She knew this hold over him would not last, but doubted very much that he knew he could break her wards if only he stopped being angry. She doubted even more that he would do so.
Evil-Lyn began speaking, setting her staff by her side. "Now is the time Mother would say that I am given my choice to see whether I am ruthless or not. "'A truly ruthless person,' she says, is one 'who lives only for bloodshed,' and, when 'given an opportunity such as this,' does not hesitate. 'He will kill his enemy without a second thought.'" Lyn smiled slowly, circling him as she spoke and quoted her mothers words to He-man not so long ago.
'"A not-so-ruthless person,"' she continued, still quoting '"is given this sort of 'opportunity,' and makes a decision as to whether or not it will be passed by.' So says my mother. Personally, though, I would say that this is the time for me to decide whether or not I really think you need to remain living on this planet."
As she spoke, Skeletor's rage grew with every word, and his struggles against his bonds became more and more powerful and frantic, his eye sockets deepening in their redness. Moria's daughter stopped circling him, looking directly into his reddening gaze and not flinching. It was then that Skeletor truly began to realize that the woman he was looking at was not the same as the Evil-Lyn he had known before the Ancient Dereskian's entrance into their lives.
"No," the young Dereskian said, reading his mind. "The Lyn you knew has long since departed, Skeletor. You were simply too occupied to notice. For example," she pressed, summoning one of his own swords to her hand and gently placing the tip right above his heart. "The Evil-Lyn you knew would have relished this moment, when she had you helpless and unable to do anything but admit her supremacy over you. She would have not hesitated in destroying you, to take your place as leader of this group of warriors and eventually claim Grayskull's power as her own."
Skeletor looked into her eyes, staring into the slightly swirling mass of violet hues, not believing his own gaze when he saw no hint of pride or glee within them. She truly was completely and utterly empty of desire or even hatred. "What has happened to you?!" he exclaimed in alarm. "What has she done to you?! You were mine, in thought, in deed and in mind! Now... I don't even know you!"
"No," Lyn replied calmly, removing the blade from his chest. "You don't." Moria's daughter turned away, putting his sword on the ground at his feet. "That is my point. Before, I would have relished the thought of all that power so close to my fingertips. Now...." She looked back at him, her expression unreadable. "...I have you right where I've always wanted you. I stand ready to leap into the depths of the pool of power that I have always dreamed of possessing... and... I find.... I don't want it anymore." She smiled slowly, as if just coming to this decision herself.
She turned away, heading towards the door, turning before reaching it and facing him once again. Lyn saw herself at a threshold. Behind her stood everything she had ever wanted or dreamed to possess: power, respect, and Skeletor's approval. In front of her, beyond the open and waiting door, waited something else, something new and, she now realized, something she had truly desired all along: freedom.
She headed towards the door, her steps unwavering. "You know, Skeletor..." she added as an afterthought, turning one last time towards him. "...I really ...don't think I need you anymore." She laughed softly, more to herself than to him, and stepped through the door... into her mother's arms.
Moria smiled tenderly, her love and pride for her daughter shining through her usually spotless sangfroid. They stood within the chambers of the Monarchy, Moria having transported her daughter there the second she stepped through the door out of Snake Mountain's inner chamber. Lyn smiled back at her, a little nervous about what she had just done, but pleased and oddly... liberated. She felt as if she had been living in a prison of darkness for the last three decades and was now, finally, stepping into the light.
The Dereskian Queen looked at the ceiling and waved her hand. The marble stone of the ceiling disappeared, and the rising Red Moon cast its light down into the chamber, washing everything over with a warm, rosy glow. Moria held her child gently in her arms, running her fingers through the now-cropped white locks of hair in a tenderly maternal embrace. "Moritënia..." she whispered, caressing her child's cheek lovingly. "Ceileabhar dachaidh, mez deänia..." Welcome home, my daughter.
......................
Within Snake Mountain, finally breaking free of his restraints, Skeletor bellowed loudly, firing bolt after bolt at the innocent walls and floors. His henchmen, all in various corners of the mountain, heard these cries and shuddered, wondering what could have incurred his wrath. ..................
"Morämé," Lyn began tentatively in her mother's language, approaching the elder woman in her chamber.
Moria Vadorian looked up from her reveries, her eyes slowly regaining focus from her meditation. "Yes, my daughter?" she responded in the same language. She was kneeling upon the floor, the deep black hues of her trousers seeming to blend into the floor. Over them, she wore a simple tunic, dark violet in color. The darkened tones set off her skin vibrantly, making her appear even more pale than usual; the only spots of color on her face were her eyes, which gleamed up at her child.
Evil-Lyn knelt beside her mother, the loops and tassels of her own pants dragging on the floor. After she had left Skeletor earlier that day, she had not felt comfortable in her usual bone decorated corset and skirt combination. Her mother had easily offered the solution, and Lyn had chosen whatever she had desired from the elder woman's closet. Moria herself had not entered.
The young Dereskian had chosen a sleeveless tunic of a soft yet durable fabric, with two silver chains that dangled from each side of where her sleeves would be and draped over her shoulders. The collar was cut low, but had pieces of the fabric that extended and hung all along the opening of the bodice, shaped much like the end of her skirt of her former outfit had been, only shorter. Her hair, which she had cropped even closer around her ears after rejoining her mother, ended just at the nape of her neck, spiking up a little all over her head.
"Morämé...I feel... strange," she confessed, her eyes closed and head bent as she knelt. "All of my life, I have felt a need... a desire... for power and strength. I have always wanted the opportunity to increase my skills and make others cower before me. And... ever since joining with Skeletor... I have always sought the day when I would defeat him and claim his power for my own." The young Dereskian paused, unsure of how to say what she wanted to come next. "Today... I had that opportunity.... I had Skeletor right where I had wanted him... but I left him alive...." She trailed off, unable to continue.
The elder woman was silent for a long time. She had expected her daughter to have second thoughts, but had not anticipated them to come so soon. Still, she knew that only Lyn could solve the doubts running around in her mind. Finally, she spoke, but it was only to question. "Do you regret it?" she asked. Lyn didn't answer for a long moment, and then shook her head. "Then why do you think you did that?" Moria asked, hoping to lead her child to her own conclusions.
Evil-Lyn exhaled deeply. "I don't know," she admitted. "Everything I'd ever wanted was right there. All I had to do was just reach out with his sword and.... My whole life all I ever wanted... was that opportunity for power. But... then I had it... and I didn't want it anymore...." She sighed, looking towards her mother questioningly. "Why would that happen?"
"Because you silenced your will, love," Moria answered, smiling tenderly. "You did not let desires cloud your mind." The elder woman took her daughter's chin in her hand and gently tilted it so that Lyn's eyes met her own. "Lyn, do you not understand? That is why you were able to defeat him. Had you been fueled by passion, by the thought that what you had always wanted was literally at your fingertips; you could not have done it. Do you see?"
There was a pause as the younger Dereskian considered her mother's words. "Yes.... But Morämé, if you silence your will and have no true desires, then what is the point of fighting at all? What does it accomplish if not your wishes?"
Moria's answer consisted of two simple words. "Your goals," she said gently. Before her daughter could interject, she anticipated what she would say and continued. "No, love. One's goals and one's desires are not the same thing. There is a very large difference between what you wish for and what needs to be done. That is the hair-fine line that separates what is selfish and what is selfless. And you are right," she pressed, again knowing what her child would say, "it is incredibly difficult discerning between what you must do and what you want to do." A smile fell across her features, and she cupped Lyn's chin gently in her hand. "Do you understand?"
The younger woman sighed slowly. "I think so, Morämé." There was an audible pause. "Mother..." she began hesitatingly. "What of lust? What of the craving for someone else's touch? Is that to be suppressed as well?"
A long sigh escaped from the elder woman. It was a long while before she answered. "Lust is... difficult. Often, despite our best intentions, we find ourselves attracted to others... even those we would not have thought ourselves capable of wanting." Moria sighed slowly. "Even if we are Dereskians, even if we live longer than most creatures on this planet can dream of, even if we separate our desires from our lives... we are creatures of the flesh, Lyn. As such... lust and attraction and physical need... are very tricky things. ...I cannot say 'do not indulge in them,' because I find myself unable to do that."
The elder Dereskian smiled gently at her child, caressing her cheek tenderly. "Think of your physical exploits as out of the normal frame of time. Where and when they happen, they are outside of what usually exists as the flux of Time itself. What we do then does not compromise our sensibility, so long as we do not let it affect our lives outside of that time flux. Understand?"
Evil-Lyn nodded after a long moment, her short hair tickling the back of her neck with the motion. "Yes, Morämé...." She paused, taking a deep breath before asking the other question that burned in her mind. "So... what exactly happens now? Do I seek out Grayskull's power on my own, with you by my side? Do I run off and join He-man to live a life of virtue and good deeds? Do I... offer my services to Randor or Marlena and become a servant in the palace? What exactly am I supposed to do with the rest of my life?" she questioned, each option sounding even more absurd to her ears.
Moria laughed gently. "No, dear. Just because you fight out of necessity does not automatically make you a so-called 'Master.' He-man does not do things out of only need either, love. He does what he thinks he should do." The elder woman paused, finding it very hard to say her next sentence. "...I... I do not know what Eläni has in store for you, my angel of darkness," She admitted after a long pause, the literal translation of her daughter's birth name echoing in both their ears. "But whether you find it to be in attacking Grayskull or serving tea to the Queen of Eternia, I have no doubt that whatever path you take, you will succeed in it." She smiled tenderly, ruffling Evil-Lyn's hair with what is only a mother's affection. "After all, love, you are the daughter of the legendary Dereskian Queen. What else could be expected of you?"
The young princess, and that title made her want to laugh, could offer no answer, but she smiled at her mother as well, and stood. She was going off to meditate, Moria knew, and a sad smile fell over her face at her retreating form.
After a moment, the elder woman looked up to the sky at the Moons, and asked for forgiveness, before rising and leaving her chambers. Inwardly, she argued that she had done the right thing, but even so, she held a nagging doubt in the back of her mind. Even if she was trying to protect her, even if Lyn could not possibly understand it yet, she still felt... cheapened somehow.
She supposed that this is what happened when you told your first lie in over eight hundred years... and it was to your only child.
Skeletor blundered into Evil-Lyn's chambers like one possessed, quite literally at the point of knocking down the door before even checking whether or not it was open. When it finally dawned on him to do so, he found it unlocked. T
urning the knob, he slid into the room with none of his usual bluntness. He found it devoid of its owner, and so began to search elsewhere, aware that he was moving much more quietly than usual. If it had been possible, he would have smirked. This would be an interesting encounter.
......................
From her kneeling position in the empty chamber, Evil-Lyn's eyelids flickered slowly open. He was coming closer, and she knew it would not take him long to reach her. On a whim, she reached a slender hand up to her helmet and pulled it off by one of the spikes. Her shoulder-length hair came tumbling slowly down her neck. Lyn set her helmet to the side, a small grin on her face. Even though Lyn did know where her mother currently was, the young Dereskian was certain Moria would have been pleased.
The door to the chamber opened, and Moria's daughter did not have to turn to know who had entered. "Hello, Skeletor," she said, her voice the epitome of calmness.
Her back was to the door, so she could not tell if his pause was from surprise or altering of positions before he replied. "Evil-Lyn." In those three syllables, the young Dereskian heard everything she needed to know. His tone was cold and unfeeling, as it was a good deal of the time, but this voice also held the tiniest glimmer of opportunity and exploitation.
Had Lyn not been in her calmed and desire-less state, it would have inspired fear. Instead, it simply was. There were no new feelings blossoming within her, nothing that made her spine shiver. She was, and He was, and that was all that mattered. "Was there something you wanted?" she asked coolly, her back still to him.
"Yes, actually," he answered, his tone growing more fierce. He strode up to her and wrenched her arm, pulling her towards him and yanking her hair until she looked into his face. "Your mother's power. You are the key to it, and I want it. How do I get it?"
Lyn's face remained expressionless, even when his claw-like fingernails dug into her scalp. "You don't," she supplied, her tone lacking any emotion. "It is not for you to possess."
"Is that so?" he questioned, pulling her hair cruelly, raising his staff in his other hand as if to strike her. "Allow me to offer a second opinion." He fired a bolt of energy from the havoc staff, a smug smile on his face as the bolt traveled the few inches... and hit empty air. Amazed, he clenched his hand on the handful of Lyn's hair.
She was no longer attached to it. He felt a small touch at his shoulder, and whirled just in time to see Evil-Lyn, her hair cropped neatly at the base of her neck. Her face betrayed nothing, not even when her fist connected with his stomach and sent him, winded, to his knees.
Almost as if she were watching the events instead of being a part of them, Lyn's staff appeared in her hands, and as Skeletor struggled to his feet, another blow, this time from her booted heel, straight to the skull sent him sprawling.
Outraged, he practically flew to his feet, staff in hand, and fired a series of bolts from it, each one containing enough force to blow a hole the size of a fist through a three-layered metal wall.
None of them landed. Whirling her staff like one possessed, the young Dereskian either dodged the attacks or deflected them, using her staff as a shield as well as a means to move faster than he could see. Smoke filled the room, and cleared, and Lyn emerged behind him, vaulting over his head and bringing her staff down, not reacting when he barely deflected it in time. She continued in her arc, spinning in the air before landing gracefully on her feet.
"You've been practicing," he observed, not a hint of compliment in his voice. "I don't think I like that." He ran at her unprotected back, which was once again facing him. Bringing his staff down like a sword, he swung the weapon down with all his might.
"I don't think you have much of a say in it," the young woman replied, bringing her own staff up in defense, blocking it and falling down to one knee out of the sheer force of his blow. She leapt to the side, out of the way, using her momentum to spring back to her feet, facing him a few paces away.
The battle continued on for the next few hours, each firing spell after spell, muttering incantation after incantation until Skeletor was left growing angrier and angrier, while Lyn remained cool and clam.
As he looked at her, Skeletor was forced to admit she had improved greatly. Angry, he wondered how he had ever allowed that to happen right under his nose. He set his staff aside, instead grasping his sword from behind his back. Lyn's forte was in spell casting, and he knew that. Better to beat her off with brute force. He separated his sword into its two halves, and would have grinned had he been able. Unless he was greatly deceived, Lyn was far from a sword mistress.
As it was, Moria's daughter did not flinch. He had forgotten that while it was true her own skills with a blade were far from impeccable; her mother's were not. And it was with her mother that Lyn had practiced. Moria, who, like Skeletor, favored two swords over one, and used them with a practiced accuracy come with more years of experience than Skeletor had been alive.
So it was that when he chose his swords over his staff, Lyn didn't bat an eye. Rather, she remained in the detached state of consciousness her mother had perfected. She brandished her staff before her, her eyes set and mouth closed.
The Overlord of Evil regarded her for a moment. "I don't really see why you find it necessary to defend your mother's power, Evil-Lyn," he remarked, almost casually. "It is not as if you benefit any from her wielding it."
"And I don't see why her power would interest you, Skeletor," Lyn replied, her tone not reflecting the fact that she rushed at him with her staff held behind her head, leaping into the air. "Particularly when you could not use it, even if you knew how to access it."
The young woman tucked her staff close to her stomach, spiraling head over feet in the air, traversing over Skeletor's head to bring her staff down in a swooping arc. He blocked it, and she continued in her arc, mistaking her footing and landing on her knees, forced to extend her free hand to recover her balance. Her back was once again turned to him as she regained her balance and remained on her knees.
"Lies!" he cried out angrily. "I do not believe you." Using his magic, he summoned two boulders from a nearby stalagmite formation, lifting them into the air. "You guard your mother's strength because you fear what would happen if I should possess it," he finished, hurling the enormous rocks at her unguarded back.
As the rocks sped towards her, Lyn raised her staff much like a sword. "You only say that because you do not understand how the Collective works," she commented, almost absentmindedly twisting her body. She called light from the ball of her staff, causing a liquid-hot heat to course down the polished surface of her weapon. One of her legs extended as she used her other knee to pivot, slicing through the boulders with her now white-hot staff. "If you did," she continued, rising to her feet with her now normal- temperature staff next to her face, "you would realize that only a Dereskian can wield the power of Eläni and the Red Moon. The Collective is a force fueled by a single memory of those who have come before us. One memory, one portion of their life force, for every deceased Dereskian being. Therefore, only a Dereskian can wield it."
Even as she spoke, she murmured an incantation in the back of her mind, causing great sections of the rock around them to unfurl like vines, wrapping themselves around Skeletor's ankles, wrists, and torso.
He did not realize her actions until too late, feeling the impenetrable stone digging into his flesh. "Aah!" he cried out angrily. His swords were held fast in his arms, and he was unable to use them to free himself. Lyn regarded him coolly, her staff whirling between her fingers, a flying blaze of violet light. He glared angrily at her, his eye sockets red and blazing with hate.
Evil-Lyn's expression remained the same as it had the entire fight. Idly, she looked at his helplessness, a flash of her staff removing his swords from his grasp, as well as locking his havoc staff in place so that he could not summon it. She knew this hold over him would not last, but doubted very much that he knew he could break her wards if only he stopped being angry. She doubted even more that he would do so.
Evil-Lyn began speaking, setting her staff by her side. "Now is the time Mother would say that I am given my choice to see whether I am ruthless or not. "'A truly ruthless person,' she says, is one 'who lives only for bloodshed,' and, when 'given an opportunity such as this,' does not hesitate. 'He will kill his enemy without a second thought.'" Lyn smiled slowly, circling him as she spoke and quoted her mothers words to He-man not so long ago.
'"A not-so-ruthless person,"' she continued, still quoting '"is given this sort of 'opportunity,' and makes a decision as to whether or not it will be passed by.' So says my mother. Personally, though, I would say that this is the time for me to decide whether or not I really think you need to remain living on this planet."
As she spoke, Skeletor's rage grew with every word, and his struggles against his bonds became more and more powerful and frantic, his eye sockets deepening in their redness. Moria's daughter stopped circling him, looking directly into his reddening gaze and not flinching. It was then that Skeletor truly began to realize that the woman he was looking at was not the same as the Evil-Lyn he had known before the Ancient Dereskian's entrance into their lives.
"No," the young Dereskian said, reading his mind. "The Lyn you knew has long since departed, Skeletor. You were simply too occupied to notice. For example," she pressed, summoning one of his own swords to her hand and gently placing the tip right above his heart. "The Evil-Lyn you knew would have relished this moment, when she had you helpless and unable to do anything but admit her supremacy over you. She would have not hesitated in destroying you, to take your place as leader of this group of warriors and eventually claim Grayskull's power as her own."
Skeletor looked into her eyes, staring into the slightly swirling mass of violet hues, not believing his own gaze when he saw no hint of pride or glee within them. She truly was completely and utterly empty of desire or even hatred. "What has happened to you?!" he exclaimed in alarm. "What has she done to you?! You were mine, in thought, in deed and in mind! Now... I don't even know you!"
"No," Lyn replied calmly, removing the blade from his chest. "You don't." Moria's daughter turned away, putting his sword on the ground at his feet. "That is my point. Before, I would have relished the thought of all that power so close to my fingertips. Now...." She looked back at him, her expression unreadable. "...I have you right where I've always wanted you. I stand ready to leap into the depths of the pool of power that I have always dreamed of possessing... and... I find.... I don't want it anymore." She smiled slowly, as if just coming to this decision herself.
She turned away, heading towards the door, turning before reaching it and facing him once again. Lyn saw herself at a threshold. Behind her stood everything she had ever wanted or dreamed to possess: power, respect, and Skeletor's approval. In front of her, beyond the open and waiting door, waited something else, something new and, she now realized, something she had truly desired all along: freedom.
She headed towards the door, her steps unwavering. "You know, Skeletor..." she added as an afterthought, turning one last time towards him. "...I really ...don't think I need you anymore." She laughed softly, more to herself than to him, and stepped through the door... into her mother's arms.
Moria smiled tenderly, her love and pride for her daughter shining through her usually spotless sangfroid. They stood within the chambers of the Monarchy, Moria having transported her daughter there the second she stepped through the door out of Snake Mountain's inner chamber. Lyn smiled back at her, a little nervous about what she had just done, but pleased and oddly... liberated. She felt as if she had been living in a prison of darkness for the last three decades and was now, finally, stepping into the light.
The Dereskian Queen looked at the ceiling and waved her hand. The marble stone of the ceiling disappeared, and the rising Red Moon cast its light down into the chamber, washing everything over with a warm, rosy glow. Moria held her child gently in her arms, running her fingers through the now-cropped white locks of hair in a tenderly maternal embrace. "Moritënia..." she whispered, caressing her child's cheek lovingly. "Ceileabhar dachaidh, mez deänia..." Welcome home, my daughter.
......................
Within Snake Mountain, finally breaking free of his restraints, Skeletor bellowed loudly, firing bolt after bolt at the innocent walls and floors. His henchmen, all in various corners of the mountain, heard these cries and shuddered, wondering what could have incurred his wrath. ..................
"Morämé," Lyn began tentatively in her mother's language, approaching the elder woman in her chamber.
Moria Vadorian looked up from her reveries, her eyes slowly regaining focus from her meditation. "Yes, my daughter?" she responded in the same language. She was kneeling upon the floor, the deep black hues of her trousers seeming to blend into the floor. Over them, she wore a simple tunic, dark violet in color. The darkened tones set off her skin vibrantly, making her appear even more pale than usual; the only spots of color on her face were her eyes, which gleamed up at her child.
Evil-Lyn knelt beside her mother, the loops and tassels of her own pants dragging on the floor. After she had left Skeletor earlier that day, she had not felt comfortable in her usual bone decorated corset and skirt combination. Her mother had easily offered the solution, and Lyn had chosen whatever she had desired from the elder woman's closet. Moria herself had not entered.
The young Dereskian had chosen a sleeveless tunic of a soft yet durable fabric, with two silver chains that dangled from each side of where her sleeves would be and draped over her shoulders. The collar was cut low, but had pieces of the fabric that extended and hung all along the opening of the bodice, shaped much like the end of her skirt of her former outfit had been, only shorter. Her hair, which she had cropped even closer around her ears after rejoining her mother, ended just at the nape of her neck, spiking up a little all over her head.
"Morämé...I feel... strange," she confessed, her eyes closed and head bent as she knelt. "All of my life, I have felt a need... a desire... for power and strength. I have always wanted the opportunity to increase my skills and make others cower before me. And... ever since joining with Skeletor... I have always sought the day when I would defeat him and claim his power for my own." The young Dereskian paused, unsure of how to say what she wanted to come next. "Today... I had that opportunity.... I had Skeletor right where I had wanted him... but I left him alive...." She trailed off, unable to continue.
The elder woman was silent for a long time. She had expected her daughter to have second thoughts, but had not anticipated them to come so soon. Still, she knew that only Lyn could solve the doubts running around in her mind. Finally, she spoke, but it was only to question. "Do you regret it?" she asked. Lyn didn't answer for a long moment, and then shook her head. "Then why do you think you did that?" Moria asked, hoping to lead her child to her own conclusions.
Evil-Lyn exhaled deeply. "I don't know," she admitted. "Everything I'd ever wanted was right there. All I had to do was just reach out with his sword and.... My whole life all I ever wanted... was that opportunity for power. But... then I had it... and I didn't want it anymore...." She sighed, looking towards her mother questioningly. "Why would that happen?"
"Because you silenced your will, love," Moria answered, smiling tenderly. "You did not let desires cloud your mind." The elder woman took her daughter's chin in her hand and gently tilted it so that Lyn's eyes met her own. "Lyn, do you not understand? That is why you were able to defeat him. Had you been fueled by passion, by the thought that what you had always wanted was literally at your fingertips; you could not have done it. Do you see?"
There was a pause as the younger Dereskian considered her mother's words. "Yes.... But Morämé, if you silence your will and have no true desires, then what is the point of fighting at all? What does it accomplish if not your wishes?"
Moria's answer consisted of two simple words. "Your goals," she said gently. Before her daughter could interject, she anticipated what she would say and continued. "No, love. One's goals and one's desires are not the same thing. There is a very large difference between what you wish for and what needs to be done. That is the hair-fine line that separates what is selfish and what is selfless. And you are right," she pressed, again knowing what her child would say, "it is incredibly difficult discerning between what you must do and what you want to do." A smile fell across her features, and she cupped Lyn's chin gently in her hand. "Do you understand?"
The younger woman sighed slowly. "I think so, Morämé." There was an audible pause. "Mother..." she began hesitatingly. "What of lust? What of the craving for someone else's touch? Is that to be suppressed as well?"
A long sigh escaped from the elder woman. It was a long while before she answered. "Lust is... difficult. Often, despite our best intentions, we find ourselves attracted to others... even those we would not have thought ourselves capable of wanting." Moria sighed slowly. "Even if we are Dereskians, even if we live longer than most creatures on this planet can dream of, even if we separate our desires from our lives... we are creatures of the flesh, Lyn. As such... lust and attraction and physical need... are very tricky things. ...I cannot say 'do not indulge in them,' because I find myself unable to do that."
The elder Dereskian smiled gently at her child, caressing her cheek tenderly. "Think of your physical exploits as out of the normal frame of time. Where and when they happen, they are outside of what usually exists as the flux of Time itself. What we do then does not compromise our sensibility, so long as we do not let it affect our lives outside of that time flux. Understand?"
Evil-Lyn nodded after a long moment, her short hair tickling the back of her neck with the motion. "Yes, Morämé...." She paused, taking a deep breath before asking the other question that burned in her mind. "So... what exactly happens now? Do I seek out Grayskull's power on my own, with you by my side? Do I run off and join He-man to live a life of virtue and good deeds? Do I... offer my services to Randor or Marlena and become a servant in the palace? What exactly am I supposed to do with the rest of my life?" she questioned, each option sounding even more absurd to her ears.
Moria laughed gently. "No, dear. Just because you fight out of necessity does not automatically make you a so-called 'Master.' He-man does not do things out of only need either, love. He does what he thinks he should do." The elder woman paused, finding it very hard to say her next sentence. "...I... I do not know what Eläni has in store for you, my angel of darkness," She admitted after a long pause, the literal translation of her daughter's birth name echoing in both their ears. "But whether you find it to be in attacking Grayskull or serving tea to the Queen of Eternia, I have no doubt that whatever path you take, you will succeed in it." She smiled tenderly, ruffling Evil-Lyn's hair with what is only a mother's affection. "After all, love, you are the daughter of the legendary Dereskian Queen. What else could be expected of you?"
The young princess, and that title made her want to laugh, could offer no answer, but she smiled at her mother as well, and stood. She was going off to meditate, Moria knew, and a sad smile fell over her face at her retreating form.
After a moment, the elder woman looked up to the sky at the Moons, and asked for forgiveness, before rising and leaving her chambers. Inwardly, she argued that she had done the right thing, but even so, she held a nagging doubt in the back of her mind. Even if she was trying to protect her, even if Lyn could not possibly understand it yet, she still felt... cheapened somehow.
She supposed that this is what happened when you told your first lie in over eight hundred years... and it was to your only child.