"Oh Ancients," breathed Randor.
Adora rushed to her aunt's side and led Mira into the study. Ducking out into the hall she made a quick scan of the otherwise empty corridor. Releasing a breath that she did not realize she had been holding, Adora closed and locked the door behind her and turned to see Randor lowering Mira into a nearby chair.
"Was anyone with you?" he asked, worry creasing his brow.
"No," Mira said absently. Coming slowly out of her daze, she focused on Randor.
Adora sat across from her aunt and Randor knelt down so he could look his sister in her eyes.
"I'm sure you have a great many questions, Aunt Mira," began Adora as she took the queen's hand.
"And I'm sure you can understand why what you've just heard must be kept in strictest of confidence," interjected Randor gently.
"Yes…no…I mean, I'm not sure I understand anything. Adam is He-Man? Adora is She-Ra? And all along Keldor has known?" Mira was shaking her head and clenching her eyes shut.
"We'll explain whatever you need to know," Adora said.
"I'm not sure I need to know anything more," Mira countered slowly, blinking her large brown eyes absently at her niece as she thought. "Obviously this explains a lot, and it isn't something the general public is supposed to know."
"That's right," Adora agreed quickly. "It's too dangerous for our families."
"And for them," Randor interjected with a frown.
"But Keldor knew? For how long?" Mira's furrowed brow belied her confusion. "Why didn't he use the information against the two of you? And why on Eternia are the two of you supporting him now? I would have thought She-Ra and He-Man would be the last two to offer any type of mercy or forgiveness to Skeletor."
Randor snorted. "If I could figure that out, Adora and I wouldn't have been arguing," he muttered darkly.
Adora sighed. "Aunt Mira, let me try to explain..."
"Adora, please," Mira interrupted before the princess could say any more. "I've heard more secrets and explanations during the last few days than I can keep a handle on. I promise I won't reveal your secret to anyone, but I really just need some time to come to terms with the truths I've heard today before I start delving into the reasons." She smiled in a softly self-deprecating manner. "I'm afraid both of my brothers got the sharp wits. It takes me a little longer to process through things."
"But you do so in a very thorough way," Randor quickly said. Adora smiled at his immediate support of his sister, so like Adam.
Mira rose gracefully and kissed her brother's cheek. "You're sweet. Wrong, but sweet."
"Aunt Mira," Adora said hesitantly, "not even Uncle Pierce can know about this. If you'd like, the Sorceress of Grayskull can remove the knowledge from your memory. I know it's not easy to keep a secret from your spouse."
Mira tilted her head to the side. "It will be difficult," she admitted readily. "I'll consider your offer, Adora." She hugged her niece. "Thank you, my dear girl, for saving us at Illgar."
Adora blushed as Mira glided out of the room. "You're welcome," she mumbled.
Mira wasn't really paying attention to where she was going as she wandered the palace halls. So much made sense to her now—Adam's years of irresponsibility —he must have been out saving the planet when Pierce complained of him missing important meetings.
She was startled out of her aimless wandering when she saw Cringer's sleeping form.
'Battle Cat?' she wondered. 'Well that would explain why he's guarding the chamber of a Syriak. I'll have to give that cat credit. He truly acts the part of a coward. I never would have made the connection.'
Mira was still lost in her musings when the door next to Cringer opened.
The cat opened one eye, and seeing only Keldor and Lyn, promptly went back to sleep.
"Mira," greeted Keldor uncomfortably. He hadn't spoken with his sister since she had asked to know of his past.
"Keldor, I'll go arrange for that snack we both were going to the kitchen for. Why don't you visit with your sister?" Lyn suggested sweetly.
Keldor glared at his wife, but felt clearly, as he was sure she must have as well, that this was something he was being directed to do by Truth. And though uncomfortable, he would comply.
"Hello, Keldor," Mira said pleasantly. In spite of her tone, though, Keldor could sense that she was unsettled.
"Won't you come in?" he invited, his dark blue eyes unreadable, but his smile kind. Mira nodded wordlessly and followed him into the now-familiar suite of rooms. They took seats opposite of each other and long minutes of uncomfortable silence ensued. Finally Keldor could stand it no longer. "What is wrong, Mira? " he asked, his voice full of concern.
"Keldor, I went to see Randor, and overheard him arguing with Adora. I heard things I shouldn't have."
"You know Adora's secret," Keldor stated, the Truth confirming it even as the words left his mouth.
"Yes. And Adam's," Mira added. "But there's more. Adora was reminding Randor of how you stood with them against Hordak even when you knew their secret? Back when you were still, as far as everyone was concerned, Skeletor?"
"That's true," confirmed Keldor calmly.
"Why?" Mira asked incredulously. "You told me before that you were seeking revenge against our family. That it was all you cared about for most of your life. It was your perfect opportunity."
Keldor sighed, wondering how many times he would have to tell this story. "You know what I did to Adam and Randor to force the secret from Adam?" he asked, his face heavy with regret.
Mira nodded wordlessly.
"I didn't tell anyone at first because a secret like that holds great power. I thought I might be able to blackmail Randor into giving up the throne if I threatened him with telling Hordak about Adora." Mira's lips parted in horror. Keldor plunged on relentlessly. "Soon after that, Adam and I were both...well, to put it simply, Adam offered his life so that I did not have to go to Blazes."
"Oh my," Mira whispered in awe.
Keldor shook his head, lost in memory. "Adam didn't even know who I really was at the time. He said that he had seen a spark of good in me—Skeletor—after I saved a few children from Horde Prime, and that as long as there was a chance for me to change, he had to spare me. After that, I couldn't tell anyone," Keldor admitted. "I owed him. I hated him even more for making me feel that way, but I had caught a glimpse of Blazes, and it was terrifying. He had spared me simply because there was a chance I could change."
"So even then you had some honor," Mira said softly, with a small smile.
Keldor shrugged. "I wouldn't have called it that then, but perhaps."
"Keldor," Mira began, "I'm trying to make sense of all of this, but I feel as though I've been swept up in a wind storm."
Keldor reached out to take Mira's hand. She smiled up at him weakly. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Keldor's heart ached as he saw the conflict and confusion play in Mira's eyes. Finally he had to speak. "I cannot tell you how deeply and truly I regret that I cannot be the brother to you I could have been had I been raised at your side. But I will do whatever I can for you now. What do you need, my sister?"
Mira squeezed the hand Keldor was still holding and looked up into his blue eyes. "I need my family to be at peace again, Keldor. I need my dear nephew to receive the respect that I know now he deserves so richly. I need our enemies to be contained. I need my great-nephew well. Things that you cannot give me."
Keldor looked away and released Mira's hand. She reached out and clasped it in both her own. "Wait. There is something you can give me."
Keldor arched an eyebrow toward her.
"I want my oldest brother back. I know things cannot be as they could have been, but I want everything we can have."
Keldor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, moved his right hand to join his left and clasped his sister's hand firmly. "I am back. And I swear to you that I will never serve Evil again. I will do whatever I can for your good and the good of our family."
Mira's eyes grew bright with unshed tears. "I believe you, my brother."
Keldor gulped back the knot that was rising in his throat.
"I worry for Randor, though."
A scowl crossed Keldor's face. He quickly smoothed his expression, but Mira caught it.
"What was that look about?" she asked, her tone firm.
Keldor groaned internally. "I need you to understand that I mean him no harm Mira."
"Understood. And?" Mira prompted.
Keldor ran a hand through his midnight blue locks. "I have been struggling with resentment toward him. I…" he trailed off into silence with a shrug.
"You what?" Mira asked, one eyebrow arched delicately.
Keldor sought the right words. "I know it's not true, but I still feel as if he took my place. I keep thinking that if he hadn't been born, maybe Father would have found me."
Mira said nothing for a moment as she reflected on Keldor's words. She had studied enough Eternian psychology to understand that Keldor was still dealing with a sense of abandonment, but the idea that he still harbored ill will towards Randor bothered her. Not that she could blame him. Her full brother was being incredibly hard-headed.
"I know it's wrong to think that," Keldor said uncomfortably when he could no longer stand the silence.
Mira's head jerked up and she focused back on him. "What's wrong is that the two of you won't move past the history between you. Name one thing that man has done to you, Keldor."
"He's done nothing," Keldor whispered, his face pained. "I know that, Mira, but I can't help the way I feel."
Mira sighed heavily and patted his hand. "I know that, Keldor. And I'm sure you must be very frustrated by Randor's refusal to listen to you."
Keldor snorted at that, though his blue eyes were still dark with pain. "You have no idea. Especially when I must humbly," -Keldor spat the word- "petition Randor to do the right thing for two others that willingly have defected and offered invaluable insights into the plans of our enemies." He looked up in alarm as Mira stood, her face determined. "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to see Randor, and you're coming with me."
"What?" he sputtered, but Mira turned and leveled a firm gaze toward him.
"You and Randor have some things to discuss. And I intend to see that you both do without resorting to a full-on brawl. Things cannot go on as they have been. Come with me."
"I don't think this is a good idea," Keldor protested as he followed Mira out of his chamber.
"And I do," interjected Mira, walking briskly down the hall toward Randor's office. She turned to look at Keldor, determination flashing in her eyes. "You promised to do whatever you could for the good of our family, and I believe this talk is necessary."
Keldor stopped for a moment. "I don't want to do this," he murmured, unwilling to admit that he had a feeling that she was right.
Mira turned to face her brother. "I know, Keldor. But you should. And the very fact that you are walking with me lets me know that some part of you knows that as well. This will not be easy, my brother. But if either of you are to move past this pain that traps you both, it must be faced and dealt with. No matter what, I will not leave either of you."
Keldor sighed and fell in step behind his sister, wondering again about the crazy path that his life had traveled to take him to this place. Mira was right, Keldor realized. Keldor shook his head in disgust. Here in the palace he had made every change possible and sought to serve good, yet he was falling into the trap of allowing the pain of his past tie him down. 'This is going to be bad,' Keldor thought as he approached the door of Randor's study.
Randor was pulled from his review of the Carnican Trade Agreements by a soft rap at this door.
"Enter," he called, already irritated by being called out of his study of the document. It had taken him fifteen minutes just to stop reading the same line over and over. He stood hurriedly, his muscles tensing, as Mira entered, Keldor right behind her.
"What's the meaning of this?" Randor demanded, his eyes darting from one to the other.
"Oh, do sit down Randor," Mira insisted, gracefully alighting in a wooden chair in front of his desk. She patted the arm of the chair next to her, which was also angled towards the desk. "Keldor, sit."
Keldor obediently took his seat. Randor stood uncertainly for a moment, his gaze fastened more on Mira than anything as he slowly realized what she was doing. "This is not a good idea," he said heavily as he eased back into his chair, forcing himself to relax.
"That's what I told her," Keldor muttered.
Mira beamed. "See? You agree on something already." Undaunted by the dual glares thrown her way, she went on, her face growing more serious with each word. "The two of you have got to stop acting like children. There-"
"I beg your pardon," Randor interrupted angrily, his brown eyes almost black in anger. "I am-"
"Refusing to listen to someone, which is completely unlike you," Mira yelled over him. Randor's jaw dropped at this; Mira was the peaceful one. She never raised her voice. At his lapse into silence, Mira lowered her voice, but it was still uncharacteristically firm. "You're angry over every past hurt Keldor has dealt you, and we all certainly understand that. You have every right. But you're holding onto your anger so tightly that you won't even listen to what he has been through, Randor. It's as if you're afraid that if you hear him out, you might be tempted to be merciful."
"I'm sure I'll hear all about his poor, pitiful fall into darkness during his trial," Randor said stiffly.
"The only thing you will hear at my trial, Randor," Keldor growled, "is my pleading guilty of all charges laid against me. I do not intend to defend myself, and I will refuse any counsel that tries to defend me. It's Mira's and Father's idea that you should know of my past. I, frankly, am tired of repeating it."
"Then why are you here?" Randor demanded, glaring at Keldor.
"Because I dragged him here," Mira interjected. "As you have already surmised."
"I see," Randor said leaning forward in his seat. "I see clearly now. You are playing the noble penitent. And somehow using my family to intercede for you."
"I. Am. Not. Using. Anyone." Keldor was no longer able to keep the irritation out of his voice. "I mean EVERY word that I say, and I have asked no one to defend me. I have no defense, you annoying asinine aristocrat." Keldor's jaw was twitching and his fists were clenched.
"Stop that now," warned Mira. "I know you're upset, Keldor, but the name calling is unacceptable."
"It's no use trying to reason with him, Mira," snorted Randor. "He's simply showing his true colors."
"And you stop it too," Mira snapped. "If either of you care anything for me at all, you will make this attempt to deal with the anger between you two before it rips this family even further apart."
Keldor took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I will try."
Randor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He glowered at Keldor. 'I don't know what you are trying to do, but I will not allow you to make me look unreasonable.'
"For you, Mira," he said with a reluctant sigh. "What is it you wish to tell me, Keldor?" he added, his voice strained.
"Nothing," Keldor snapped.
Randor eyes grew hard and his hands drew into fists at his sides as he bit back his retort for the sake of his sister sitting in front of him. 'Does this villain live only to vex me?'
"Keldor," pleaded Mira, "I know this is hard for you, but he needs to know."
Keldor took a deep breath. "I truly do not want to tell you of the reasons for the choice to turn from good and live a life of hatred, Randor, and I repeat what I have said so many times before. I can only explain. There is nothing I can say that will ever excuse what I've done."
Knowing it would be wiser to hold his tongue if he wanted to endure this for Mira's sake, Randor merely nodded.
"It all started just a week before Father had promised he would be coming for us, to take us to his home, his kingdom. I walked into our cottage to see my mother lying on the floor…"
Adam ran a hand over his drawn face as he left Man-at-Arms' workshop, which doubled as his office. Like Ramos, Duncan's tests on Josiah had found nothing. All anyone knew was that the child seemed to be in pain, was growing more and more lethargic, and was ever-so-slowly losing weight.
"Unless some sort of miracle occurs before tomorrow morning, Adam, I'm afraid Ramos is right," Duncan's voice echoed in his mind. "We'll have to put Josiah on an IV."
Adam wandered out onto a balcony overlooking the Evergreen Forest. "Good, please," he whispered fervently. "Please heal my son." Adam knew in his heart what Ramos and Duncan weren't saying aloud just yet. Josiah was dying. Adam shied away from the thought, unable to comprehend losing the tiny child he already loved so much. He bowed his head, praying in desperate silence for a few minutes, pleading with Good.
"Adam?"
Adam jerked around as his mother's voice broke the silence. He did his best to offer her a smile. "Good evening, Mother."
Marlena quickly took in Adam's haggard look and the despair he strove to bury deep where no one could see it.
"What is it, Adam?" she asked, her eyes luminous as she sensed her son's pain. "It's not like you to be so distracted you can't pay attention to the conversation around you. Is it Josiah?"
Adam's throat tightened uncontrollably; he simply nodded.
"It'll be all right," Marlena said, hugging her son tight to her. "No matter what happens, your family will be here for you, and God will be as well."
"I'm not so sure of that," Adam said before he could stop himself. Marlena pulled away slightly to look at him, and Adam turned away from her.
"Not sure about which part?" Marlena questioned worriedly.
"Both," Adam said thickly, feeling lost. "Father can barely stand to look at me. Everyone I love is disappointed in me—don't try to deny it, Mother—and I feel you've all lost faith in me." Even the fact that Duncan and he had sort of come to terms about things didn't help that feeling. "Teela doesn't think I trust her. And Good…" Adam sighed heavily and looked up at the twilit sky. "Good is as silent as space itself."
"Adam, your family will always love you, even through disagreements," Marlena said in a reproachful tone. "In that regard, have we ever let you down before?"
"No," Adam admitted quietly.
"And if we imperfect human beings manage to love each other with all our faults and disagreements, do you really think that Good, who is love, is going to abandon you in your hour of need?" Marlena pressed.
"I…" Adam glanced upwards again. "I feel as if I've been abandoned, Mother. I've never felt so alone," he confessed roughly.
"Perhaps you're not listening," Marlena suggested, laying one hand gently on his slumped shoulder. "He doesn't move, Adam. He's always there. You are never alone."
"I have begged and pleaded for Josiah's health to improve," he said hoarsely, refusing to meet her gaze. "Every day since I learned he was sick, even before I returned and learned how truly ill he was. There's been no change, no answer. He just grows worse."
"Then perhaps the truth is that you're asking so desperately for what you want, you're not listening to what Good is trying to tell you," Marlena said quietly.
"Maybe I'm not," Adam agreed, his voice suddenly hard. "Because if He's going to tell me that my son is going to die, then I don't want to hear it."
"Is it truly that bad?" Marlena asked, wringing her hands at the idea.
"I-I think so."
Marlena could think of nothing more to say to this, so for a few moments they stood in silence.
Adam finally gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "Ironic, isn't it Mother? Teela and I choose a name that we hope will honor Good by recalling the king on your planet who loved Him and served Him well, and make plans to raise Josiah to be a good, just man, worthy of his namesake. And for some reason, Good has apparently decided Josiah shouldn't see his first birthday."
"You don't know that yet," Marlena argued, surprised by the bitterness in Adam's voice. "This isn't like you, Adam, to dwell on the negative. If it's because of your father's attitude-"
"That's only part of it," Adam interrupted, finally turning to meet her eyes. "My whole world seems upside down. Skeletor is sitting here in the palace, redeemed and certain of his place and purpose in the universe. Meanwhile, my son is dying, my people think I'm not fit to rule, and my father is probably thinking they might be right. He-Man is rumored to be having an affair with Teela, and is for some reason discovering powers he never knew he had, which, by the way, conveniently started when Keldor returned."
"My dear boy," Marlena said, placing one hand on each side of Adam's face, "you were so quick to accept Keldor and support him, you didn't give yourself enough time to accept your own feelings about his transformation. Then all of these other things are thrust on top of it." She shook her head sadly. "I wish I could say that it would all change, Adam, but the truth is, life as king will be no different, except that there will be no He-Man to worry about." She dropped her hands, her blue eyes intent on him. "Josiah needs to be your focus now, Adam. There are times you must let things go. Right now, you can't try to deal with Keldor, your people, or even your father. You need to take care of Josiah, and do all you can for him and for Teela."
Adam nodded; none of her observations were a surprise to him. And he wasn't going to sit back and watch his son die. He glanced upwards. 'If you won't help him, I'll find someone who can,' he thought. Tomorrow, he'd go to see Granamyr.
Randor listened in silence as Keldor spoke. At first he held his tongue only to keep from engaging in yet another fruitless argument. But ever so slowly, as he listened to his half-brother, extremely thin cracks began to appear in the armor of anger that encased his heart.
When Keldor was finished, Randor still didn't speak as mercy and anger warred within him. Only a rock could be unmoved by Keldor's story, but Randor could not easily dismiss all the former villain's crimes.
"Randor," Mira said softly. "Don't you have anything to say?"
After another long moment in which Keldor began to fidget, Randor met his half-brother's ashamed gaze. "You blamed me for something I had nothing to do with," he stated rhetorically, his voice low.
Although it was obvious that Randor did not expect a response, Keldor nodded anyway. "Yes," he said, his voice also subdued.
"You sought to take revenge against my family for a wrong I did not commit," Randor continued. Mira frowned worriedly.
"I did," Keldor confessed miserably.
"But Randor," Mira broke in, leaning forward to grasp her brother's hands earnestly, "don't you see what those terrible events did to him?"
"I do," Randor said in a tone that was hard to define. It was both sympathetic and hard, somehow. "Now let me explain something to you, Mira, now that you know that Adam is He-Man." Mira swallowed, seeming a bit nervous at the slow burn of determination in Randor's voice—determination to make her understand.
"Not long after this fiend almost killed Adam and Adam selflessly offered his life for him, Hordak captured us," Randor reminded her. "Adam, as He-Man, watched Teela die in front of him due to his refusal to kill a sick old man. Then Hordak physically, mentally, and emotionally tortured He-Man for four days before we were rescued. And still Adam did not break. He had the opportunity to kill Hordak, and he didn't do it."
"Ancients," breathed Mira. "Poor Adam." She then looked up into Randor's face to see a strange sort of triumph form in his eyes and something in her snapped. "But surely you cannot compare a child's strength to the inner fortitude of a grown man with a lifetime of learning and years of loving care with a family who doted on him? Randor, Keldor was eleven. Eleven!" she added with emphasis.
"Eleven when he was enslaved. Eleven when he had to endure beatings and torture at the hands of his masters, and when he finally came home, he was still a BOY! A scared little boy. And not just for four days did he endure torture of every kind, but for over four years! You can't equate the ability of a man with a lifetime of maturity and love to stand firm in goodness with that of a child who was hurt beyond what most adults could bear."
Randor glared back at her. "He is not a hurt little boy any longer, Mira, and he has not been one for a very, very long time. I could excuse a few years of wrongdoing as he sought to find his place in this world, but fifty years of crimes? That's not someone who has lost their way, it's someone who is just plain evil!"
"Don't you get it?" Mira snapped. "That evil replaced his family. Power was all he had to rely on!"
"Would you two stop talking about me as if I'm not here!" Keldor erupted. "I seek no excuse from any of you!"
"Good, because you won't get one!" Randor yelled.
"Go ahead, Randor. Stew in your hatred. It will lead you to misery, and I find that I no longer care." Keldor stood to his feet.
'I'm sorry, Mira," he said quietly, "I'm…"
"Sit back down," Mira ordered firmly.
"I'm only making things worse here," Keldor protested.
"You are doing nothing of the sort," Mira said, folding her arms and leveling her gaze at Randor.
The king stood abruptly and strode across the room, lost in his own thoughts. He had no desire to allow hatred to consume him. He had never been a man of revenge. Why was he so close to changing that now? "I need some time to reflect on all of this," Randor finally said. He turned back around slowly. "I trust nothing about you except that I have never been able to trust you," he said to Keldor.
"Like father, like son," Keldor muttered.
"What?" Randor asked sharply.
"Nothing. Adam just said something similar," Keldor said more clearly, meeting Randor's eye. The king's brow furrowed in surprise as Keldor continued. "I understand completely. I wouldn't expect you to trust me.
"And I repeat. This time for the last time. I have no excuse for my crimes. I was evil. There was only a scrap of the person I once was left, and though my experience on Carina helped bring me back to myself, I do not expect, nor do I want, pardon. I have crimes to answer for, and I will do so. So distrust me, imprison me, do what you must, but if you cling to your hatred of me, you are casting yourself in a much more perilous prison than any I could go to."
"Don't you dare lecture me," Randor growled darkly. "You know nothing about me."
"No, but I know everything about the high cost of living a life of hate," said Keldor sadly. "And I wouldn't wish that kind of misery on anyone." Keldor squeezed Mira's hand a second before he stood. "I will leave you to your thoughts, Randor," Keldor said as he walked out the door.
Randor ground his teeth in irritation, unsure what bothered him more--the fact that Keldor had lectured him, or the fact that the man was right.