Disclaimer: I do not claim the rights to Star vs. the Forces of Evil nor any of the characters that appear in the show. They are the property of Daron Nefcy and Disney. I do, however, claim the rights to any original characters that may appear in this story as well as the plot, and would kindly ask for permission should you want to include any of the story elements in your own works.

Star vs. the Forces of Evil: New Dawn

Chapter 1

What Remains

The rolling, snow-capped hills stretching endlessly into the distance, each covered with lanky pine trees as though it were a porcupine had to be the most boring sight in the world, Zora thought as her gaze lazily drifted over one identical hilltop to the next in what was probably one of the most fruitless searches she had undertook in recent weeks. She frowned angrily. The intel had to be wrong. It just had to be. She could spend the next three days scouring the landscape like a bloody fool, but that wouldn't change the fact that a party of armed monsters most definitely wasn't just going to sprout out of the earth like a bunch of turnips.

From her vantage point - it was not a hiding spot, no matter what the others said - she had as good of a view as any other member of her scouting party, but that would not and did not change the simple fact that no armed battalion was anywhere even remotely near wherever they'd wound up. She frowned. Ten days. Ten blasted days of insistent tracking and scouring this snow-infested landscape, and for what? Not so much as a single footprint that wasn't older than at least a month. She sniffed, and a loud achoo escaped her mouth. She rubbed her nose and wrapped the soft, woollen blanket even tighter around herself. If she ended up sick because of this idiotic expedition, a certain someone would get an earful from her.

"Sending me off into the middle of bloody nowhere..." the young girl muttered angrily, but despite her own insistent protests, her eyes kept darting to and fro, looking for something, anything that would indicate movement. But there was just nothing there. Maybe one of the other watchers was having more luck? But then, she would have known if they were. "I swear," she said after her eyes had swept over each hilltop for what felt like the thousandth time. It probably was. "If I don't see something in the next hour, I am going straight back to the camp and telling Robert that he can go and-"

"Language, your highness. Language."

Her head whipped round reactively and a glare that was at this point automatic crept onto her face. Surely enough, there he was, Fitz, the single most annoying person in the world. In any world for that matter. From the day he'd shown up, the half-demon always seemed to do his best to get on her nerves as much as possible, even when he wasn't trying. He always seemed to have some offhanded remark or the other, more often than not about her, or aimed at her, at the very least, and the worst part was that his method of delivery was such that it would make even the most boring librarian seem like a professional entertainer. She couldn't recall a single time she'd seen him smile. Not once. Well, not that she wanted to. He wasn't that handsome.

In times of desperation, only a fool picked their allies. A smart person took whatever came their way and was happy with it. Or so the saying went. With Fitz, it felt like she'd be a fool regardless of her choice in the matter. Not that she had one, given the circumstances, but she was often tempted to wipe that impassive stare off his face. Still, he was loyal, and at least she could fully trust him, something that couldn't be said for every member of the resistance. The boy seemed incapable of lying, even when a simple white lie would have saved his own hide. It was annoying to deal with at times, especially given his higher sense of morality, something only he understood, in truth, but at least she didn't have to worry about him putting a dagger in her back.

She stood up to face him, but even when fully erect, she had to tilt her head up to glare at him. Why couldn't the boy be a few inches shorter?

"I'm sorry, Fitz, but I seem to have a bit of trouble recalling when you got promoted to my personal language consultant. Care to jog my memory?"

"Language consultant?" the boy repeated, his tone as level as always, and given the delay between that and his response, he'd once again taken it seriously. Zora could have sworn he was the single living being in the universe incapable of humour. "I am no such thing, your highness. I simply find it improper that one of your stature would swear like a tavern brawler."

Zora folded her arms and replied after a tired sigh. "Fitz, for the eleventh time, you don't have to call me Highness. I'm Zora."

"But you are the rightful daughter heir of Mewni, regardless of the situation. It's only natural that I would-"

"Second of all," Zora spoke, not willing to let him waste even more of her patience with his needless, eloquent drizzle. Gosh, he was annoying! "I can speak however I want to. The other soldiers do it all the time, and the things they say are way worse than anything I've ever said, so why shouldn't I be allowed to say a few nasty words here and there?"

"Yes, the soldiers. You are no soldier, your Hig-" he paused at her arched eyebrow and cleared his throat. "Zora. You are not a common soldier. You are our leader; our symbol of hope. Why do you think I insisted on accompanying you on this mission? Your Hi- Zora, if anything were to happen to you all would fall apart. And it is one thing saying a nasty word here and there, but yours is becoming a habit unbecoming of a lady of nobility. It isn't proper, your Hig- Zora."

Zora sighed. This argument again. It seemed that no matter how many times she explained it to Fitz- or to anyone, for that matter, the people who'd flocked to her since the fall of Mewni to the Shadow kept treating her like she was their leader. Well, she wasn't. She wasn't a leader, and she was hardly a queen or even a princess for that matter, titles be damned! Besides, she was barely even thirteen! Nobody in their right mind would let a thirteen-year-old spearhead a war of this size!

And yet they look to you like a bunch of starstruck idiots. Tom had told her, once, that when people found nothing else to rally behind, they would just pick something that was convenient and somehow make it work, and that, like it or not, she was that something; she had become that something the day everything had gone to hell all those years ago, with her adoptive father, Marco, going utterly insane and waging a war the only purpose of which seemed to be to cause as much chaos and destruction as possible - No, not my dad. That evil thing twisting his mind - and her adoptive mother, Star Butterly, simply vanishing without a trace. She'd tried following up on the rumours and sightings of a sometimes-blonde-sometimes-silvery-haired girl -or woman in recent years - resembling the previous daughter heir of Mewni, but every follow-up had led to just another wild goose chase, with no evidence of Star ever having been there. Not that those repeated failures of finding her discouraged Zora one bit. Her mother was alive and she would find her, and together, they would free Marco from whatever it was during his mind to rot.

Sudden motion snapped her out of her daydreams, and she hushes Fitz, planting a finger firmly on his lips. What had he been babbling on about? Something about the burden of leadership? Whatever it was, it was none of her concern. She was no leader.

Peering into the distance with narrowed eyes, she could vaguely make out a few large blurs amid the distant elms, slowly creeping along the thick treeline. She closed her eyes, and upon opening them, her eyes shone the colour of crimson, the colour of her magic. The spell she used was nothing too fancy; just a simple amplification of her senses. This and a few combat spells were the fullest extents she was willing to use her magic, unstable and dangerous as it was. She wouldn't risk using more, not after last time, even if her magic tutors kept insisting it was their fault for improperly guiding her, but she knew their words were hogwash.

Listening tentatively, she could make out several voices. Some men, and few women, and about two dozen or so monsters. She didn't like calling them monsters given the implication of the word, but for some reason, whenever she brought up the topic to change the word so the creatures allied against the encroaching darkness wouldn't feel derogated, it was they that insisted on being called monsters, and they stubbornly refused to give up the term and, contrary to her fears, took pride in it. She didn't really see the sense of it, but if they wanted it, who was she to force them to do otherwise?

Her eavesdropping continued for a full minute before she dared to conclude that those were indeed her targets. It was unmistakable, especially after the leader of the group, a big centaur with arms thick as tree trunks and a deep voice that made the ground beneath his hooves rumble, declared that they would soon start setting up portal stones to invade the city situated a few miles north. Zora couldn't suppress a grim chuckle. Out of all the things stopping her dad from taking over everything, it had to be basic logistical issues, which boiled down to nothing more than transporting soldiers and supplies in mass quantities across the dimensions. Not that the job was easy, given the magical barriers the remaining free dimensions had erected that would both keep any unwanted visitors out and alert anyone the moment they entered. Sadly those barriers were far from flawless and allowed for small strike teams, much like the one she was here to confront, to sneak past and establish a foothold where a greater force could be forced through once special portal stones were in place. The best shot at stopping it was to track whoever was tasked with setting them up and eliminating that particular threat. Eliminate. Another grim chuckle forced itself out of her mouth. Well, at least all the classes on proper battlefield terminology she'd been taking were finally paying off.

She counters the number of invaders. Thirty altogether.

Not as many as usually, but just about enough to pose a proper threat if left unchecked.

She pondered for a moment. The safest course of action was to round up everyone in her scouting party, which would amount to a good fourteen people, and set an ambush further downslope in the direction the enemy was headed. If executed correctly, the battle would be over before the Mewman soldiers even realised what was going on, and with a touch of luck, maybe they'd even be able to take one or two captives to squeeze out any bit of information they could, not that footsoldiers could provide them with anything their spies in the Mewman capital already hadn't. It was a good plan, the only issue being that by the time everyone was rounded up, those goons could have already begun their portal placement, and she didn't exactly feel like a full-blown confrontation that would require substantial reinforcements.

If I just use a tiny bit of magic... she dismissed the thought as suddenly as it came. Too dangerous. Still pondering, she absentmindedly fingered the arrows in the quiver strapped to her hip and counted. Twenty arrows, half of them magically infused. If she snuck a bit closer, she was willing to bet that three if her arrows would be more than enough to have the ordeal over and done with before it truly began. She was a good shot, not that it really mattered if she hit or missed her mark, provided she didn't miss completely, of course. She fingered the exact type of arrow she was looking for and realised she had three of them in her quiver. With those she could bore a hole into a ten-foot-thick wall if she wanted to, and by the time the hole was there, she'd probably have an arrow left to do with as she pleased.

"My Lady Zora?" Once again, the voice of the half-demon snapped her out of her trance. Well, at least it wasn't Your Highness anymore. But by the disapproving way Fitz was eying her, she had a feeling he knew what she was thinking.

"You said you'd follow me, right?" Zora said with a smirk and didn't wait for a reply before stealthfully making her way downhill. She didn't have to cast a single glance backwards to know Fitz was on her heels, muttering to himself about how reckless her plan was but going along with it anyway. He usually did, and despite his neverending stream of protests often unnerving her, she never turned him away. It was better to have someone you could trust watching your back than nobody at all.

It didn't take long for her to close the sizable gap between herself and the retinue of men, women and monsters, and she was careful enough not to make so much as a pin-drop of noise. She crouched behind the thickest bush she could find and peered through the leaves, taking in the sight of it all, and heard faint footfalls behind her, and Fitz joined her in her crouch. His frown told her everything she needed to know, but he wouldn't comment on her ideas, although she did she his lips mumble the words 'reckless' and 'needlessly risky' but she opted not to pursue another argument with him.

"Think you can help me take them out?" Zora asked. She was half expecting him to rise up where he stood and walk away, but the half-demon scowled at her and firmly gripped the strung bow that was on his back and nocked an arrow.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Your Hig- Zora." It was a good thing that a touch of frustration had actually touched his voice when he said her name. Had he kept his usual calm demeanour, she would have laughed; not exactly something she wanted to do given she was standing less than a hundred feet from her targets, who appeared to be in the middle of some kind of argument about whether to march on through the evening or make camp where they stood. She hadn't even noticed that the sun was creeping towards the edge of the far horizon. Either way, camp probably meant sentries and maybe even a portal for reinforcements, and she wasn't going to grant them that.

Arrow nocked and bowstring pulled tightly, she glanced at Fitz, who was mimicking her pose, and gave a single nod before both took aim. She had her target, the big centaur at the head of the scouring party, and she licked her lips, arrow ready to be loosed. Her fingers were twitching, and she took a moment more to steady her breathing, and a good thing she did, or she just may have missed the glint of the giant axe swinging at her head from the corner of her right eye. "Duck!" she shouted and jumped to shove Fitz out of harm's way, and she could feel the edge of the sharp axe brush past the top of her head. She and Fitz rolled downhill, snow spraying in all directions as they tumbled further and further down the hill, and the tree they crashed into felt almost like a relief, even if it did knock every ounce of breath out of her lungs. She got up hastily, ignoring the snow clinging to her dress and hair, and turned to check on Fitz who was already upright, his bow tossed haphazardly aside and a gleaming sword gripped with both hands.

Before she could even register what was going on, she found herself blocking what would have been a fatal blow to her chest with the bow she'd miraculously held onto during the fall. The ogre in front of her raised the axe and swung it a second time, she despite putting all of her strength into blocking the blow, or maybe because she'd put all of her strength into it, her bow snapped in half neatly and both pieces flew out of her hands, and she fell to her knees. She looked up at the tall, muscular monster, her eyes wide and filled with a sudden panic as the creature raised the axe overhead and smirked villainously at her. It swung the axe, and she closed her eyes, ready to pay the price for her rash actions. But instead of feeling her head being split in half - at least, that's what she assumed it would have felt like the moment before she died - she heard steel meeting steel, followed by a loud cry of pain, and when she opened her eyes, she found the large ogre on its kneed, the great axe tossed aside, and both ginormous hands pressed against its stomach as blood oozed from underneath. It took her a moment to register Fitz standing over her in a defensive stance, the entire length of his sword bather in crimson. She whipped his head to her, and she could see a mixture of anger and fear.

"Get up!" he shouted, and by the lack of Your Highness or My Lady at the end of it, he meant business. She got to her feet, and moments later wished the ogre had finished the job. All around her stood men, women and monsters, all clad in black armour and wielding equally pitch-black weapons, ranging from shortswords to spears and even a few clubs and halberds. She swallowed and reached for the heft of the sword strapped to her right thigh, and her hand shook so fiercely that almost failed to coil her fingers around the pommel.

"Well now, look what we have here," a calm, rumbling voice spoke, and she turned to the owner, the large centaur. "Zora Butterly, in the flesh. My master will be most pleased when I present you to him."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she replied, defiantly, and hoped there was no trembling in her voice.

"We shall see. Seize her! Alive! But kill her companion!"

Before the order was fully given, the rest of the black-clad figures lurched forward, screaming fierce battle cries as they closed the distance between them and her, step by step. There were far too many for her and Fitz to handle by themselves. She had to act, fast, and she did. Almost by instincts, her hand rose and a brief flash of crimson engulfed her eyes and those of the cat-mask nestled atop her head, and a fireball leapt at one of the oncoming soldiers, and he went down in a heap of char and seared skin, as did the two unlucky fools standing too close to him. The soldiers looked startled for a moment, but the next, their charge continued. Her other hand whipped through the air, and a barrier of some sort appeared, just in time to deflect a black arrow one of them had fired at her, and with her other hand, she fired a rod of white light in the direction, and her assailant went down with a painstaking shriek. Still too many. Drawing on even more magic, feeling power surging through her every vein, she rapidly extended both arms to her sides as far as she could, and a tremor that turned into a fierce shockwave reverberated from where she stood, and all about her and Fitz, the earth cracked, and fire spewed from the figures, soon followed by cries of agony. Not enough. Still not enough! She drew more power, ignoring someone crying out her name, and let the power engulf her. Two men went down screaming as black, razor-sharp tendrils cleaved away their armour and flesh, and another one of her assailants - it appeared to be the overconfident centaur - found himself flaying desperately against wind that tore at his very flesh. More! She needed more! She slammed her fist against the ground, and ice spikes erupted from all sides, impaling what few of the fleeing enemies remained. She grinned as she spotted three of them wobbling away, shards of ice stuck in their pierced legs and body. She raised her hand, and a black sphere began forming rapidly, black as the flow of her eyes and mask, sucking in the very atmosphere around her. Once she unleashed that, those fools would-

"Enough!" And just like that, she found herself tackled to the ground, snarling and clawing at whoever or whatever had her pinned to the ground. With raw magic surging through her, she overpowered her assailant and pinned him to the ground, and in an instant, found the edge of her sword pressed against Fitz's neck. She blinked, and his wide eyes were those of a cornered animal. "Zora, it's me! Fitz! I'm on your side! You have to stop! Look around yourself!" She blinked again, and did just that, and a lump formed in her throat. All around her, there was destruction. The earth was overturned and cracked; the tress either burning or black as charcoal stretched for what looked to be at least a mile; spikes of ice rose to the skies and impaled on them were charred figures completely unrecognisable from what they'd been mere moments ago; and corpses still glowing like soft embers were scattered everywhere. She counted them. Thirty. She'd spared not a single soul.

"I..." Slowly, with a trembling hand, she retracted the sword from Fitz's neck, and fell on her bottom, her wobbly legs too unsteady to support the weight of her body. Reluctantly, she cut the flow of magic, and a surge of fatigue washed over her. The next instant, she lay on her back, eyes open, and watched as burning leaves fluttered in the soft wind. Somehow, it was a peaceful sight. Calming. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, uncaring for the cold washing over her body as she lay there in the snow. A sudden thought crept up, and this time, she welcomed it.

How many years has it been? How many years of fighting and killing? The thought that followed was natural. How many have I killed? How many do I still have to?

"My Lady." Her eyelids parted open, and she found Fitz staring at her, a concerned frown on his face. She could have laughed. The fool still had a faint trace of where she was about to slit his neck open, and he was worried for her. "I think..." he continued, awkwardly, "that is... perhaps it would be wise to depart. We have achieved our goal, strictly speaking, and-"

"In a moment, Fitz."

"But, My La-"

"In a moment. Please." Judging by his sudden jerk, that last word seemed to have caught him off guard. He nodded, albeit reluctantly, and muttered something about inspecting the corpses for any useful information they may yield, and just like that, he was off. Zora lay there, her eyes still staring at the darkening sky, and smiled despite herself. In a few moments, she would stand up and aid Fitz in his search. In a few moments, she would go lock for the rest of her scouting party and tell them about the outcome of their mission, provided they weren't rushing to her, since finding her amid the charred wasteland she'd created wouldn't be difficult. In a few moments, she would become Zora, the prideful symbol of the resistance against the tyrannical force of Mewni who sought to crush and rule with an iron fist.

In a few moments, she would become all that, and more. But right now, she wanted to lie in the snow and remember a small girl named Zora Butterly who just wanted to enjoy time with her newfound family.

End of Chapter 1

Chapter end notes: Well, it has certainly been a while, my friends! As you can tell, I finally managed to take the time and start properly working on this thing. Mind you, I have no idea when I'll have time for chapters 2-20, but hey, I'll make it work. Somehow.

On another note, you may have noticed that, stylistically, my writing has a fair bit. Well, that's something anyone still following this story is gonna have to get used to since I could not for the life of me replicate my style from a few years back. Dabbling into high fantasy, especially writing it, does that to a person.

Either way, feedback and reviews are appreciated! Cheers and hear you all... erm... eventually? Yeah, let's just stick to eventually.

Cheers!

-jolleIQ