Author's Note: Y'all, I am so sorry that I'm two weeks late. I became very busy IRL and I fell behind schedule. I'm preparing to go to law school in August, and I've got a lot to do for that. Please accept my apology along with my offering of a 10k chapter.
Also, I will try my hardest to get another chapter out in two weeks but I, unfortunately, can't promise anything.
I hope you're all well, and I thank you for the continued support!
Chapter 20: A Strange Wind Blowing
She'd practically run out of the meeting room when the break was called, exchanging few words with anyone, and determined to be left alone with her admittedly scrambled thoughts. And when she discovered that Inuva's mid-morning suns were harsher than Etheria's, she moved into the shadow of the castle's western side, hoping the location was secluded enough for a solo smoke.
She probably had time for one cigarette and then she needed to get back. Adora opened her left breast pocket, took out her pack, and smacked the bottom of it a few times before shaking a cigarette loose into her hand. She dug around in her pants pocket, navigating around scraps of paper and a single piece of gum, to find her lighter. After lighting up, she took a deep drag and enjoyed the slight release of tension that'd been building all morning. It'd be a few more hours until they broke for lunch and then they'd be at it again in the afternoon.
Most diplomatic proceedings and negotiations were stressful, but this was on a whole new level. The aloofness of the Eternians combined with the off-putting nature of Queen Evangeline had her blood pressure up. Why they were being so difficult was a mystery. They'd agreed to this meeting, and they'd just rotated between bullshitting and procrastinating on any progress. Any person-to-person connection also felt superficial at best; their planet's respective weather patterns had been discussed extensively.
The sound of footsteps to her right caught her attention and she watched none other than Queen Evangeline make her way over. Adora glanced around, but they were alone. Where were her guards or other Eternians? Surely the Queen boasted quite the entourage. But she was something other Queens were not—the Imperator. If that was anything like She-Ra, guards could only hope to do a tenth of the damage Evangeline could inflict on a simple whim. Like the guards Adora kept around, Evangeline's were probably for show, for deterrence, and nothing more.
Evangeline stopped in front of Adora, giving her a once over before saying, "That habit will kill you, you know?"
"Really? No one's ever told me that before."
She smiled and then plucked the cigarette from Adora's lips. Evangeline rolled it between her fingers for a couple of seconds before bringing it to her mouth. All the while her eyes remained firmly on Adora. She took a few puffs from it, smoke swirling into the hot air. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're supposed to be nice to the people you're negotiating with?"
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to steal someone else's cigarette without asking?" Adora said.
Evangeline chuckled and moved so that she stood next to Adora in the slight shade. She took another puff before handing the cigarette back. Adora grabbed it and then took a drag herself. Spirits, she needed its stress relieving qualities now more than ever.
"Why do you smoke?" Evangeline asked.
"To relieve tension and stress."
"What makes you so stressed?"
"Smoking," Adora said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Evangeline turned to look at her before letting out a light, easy-going laugh. "Funny, too? Where have you been all my life, Princess?"
Adora wanted to point out that she'd possibly been in the Queen's dreams. But that admission felt a little…forward? But where could they go if Adora still had no idea if they actually knew each other? She'd been white knuckling the meeting this morning, hardly writing any notes or digesting any new information. How could she when the woman sitting in front of her potentially knew details of her life that she'd never told anyone else before?
Dammit, this was all messed up. The black-haired woman in her dreams wasn't supposed to be a real person and she certainly wasn't supposed to be Queen Evangeline. It was supposed to be private, those dreams. Her broken heart's lonely, nightly ritual of bleeding out and then returning for morning apparently unscathed. But what if she really wasn't alone? What if another watched her scars form and saw her still-echoing failures play out in real time? If that were true, if Evangeline knew her like that, where did they go from here?
"I know this is a weird question. But, ummm…," Adora pinched the bridge of her nose, "...do I know you?"
Evangeline laughed as hard as Adora had ever seen her. "Know me? Adora, I don't think anyone alive knows me as well as you do." As silence stretched between them, Evangeline's smile began to fade. "I'm sorry, Princess. I've been too presumptuous. May I call you Adora?"
"You may, but that's not the problem. Doesn't any of this freak you out? I mean we were in a dream!" Aware that she'd been yelling, Adora took a deep breath and started again. "We met in dreams, and you're a real person? This doesn't make any sense. And why aren't you freaking out right now?"
Evangeline held her gaze for a moment before breaking eye contact. "I've known you're a real person for a while now. So, when I saw you, I wasn't surprised. But when we first started talking, I had no idea. I swear," the Queen said, "I thought you were in the same situation. But I guess not."
"How did this happen? How were we in a dream? They're dreams. I've never heard of meeting people in a dream." Adora took a shaky drag of her cigarette.
"I'm not sure why or how we've been meeting in dreams, Adora. But I'm glad we have. The last six months have been…good for me."
"Adora?" Catra poked her head out of a door, a question on her lips, but it faded as soon as she saw Adora and Evangeline. Catra's eyes shifted between them before she added, "We're gonna start up again soon, Your Majesty."
"Thank you for letting us know, Princess Catra," Evangeline said, nodding respectfully. Adora bowed hastily to the Queen and then joined Catra.
"What was that all about?" Catra asked as they walked shoulder-to-shoulder back to the meeting room.
"Well," Adora said, sighing. "So—" Magic prickled at her, cutting off her words. Magic had never been painful before; it was now. It felt like her skin wasn't big enough, like an undersized shoe causing curled toes. She stumbled from the feeling, from her ever expanding soul pressing against her painfully small body. A hand on her shoulder steadied her, allowing some refocus. The magic flowing into her came from somewhere. But where? She looked back and Evangeline stood in the doorway they'd just come through, talking with her diplomats and paying Adora no attention. One of the diplomats handed a sword over to Evangeline, which she took with a smile. A blue aura engulfed the Queen's body for a moment before dissipating.
After the shattering of the Sword of Protection, Adora controlled her own magic. Like a faucet, she could direct how much and when it came. If she needed a trickle, she ordered a slow, steady flow. And if she needed a flood, she got it. When she was younger, magic came and went as it pleased. It slid through her grasp when she needed it the most and burst from her during many desperate attempts to stay calm. But as she aged, the control she tried to exert began to take hold. No longer was she simply a vessel for magical conduction, but a player who could not be denied her role.
So the few times her magic activated or stopped without her consent, she took note. Careful, awful, note. Other powerful, magical beings could trigger her magic. Spirits could do it. Some sorcerers and elemental casters could too. But none like this.
It burned now—her magic. Her legs felt like jelly; her knees wanted to buckle. Magic could not corrode She-Ra. The same could not be said of Adora.
It was an odd sensation—to be eaten up alive in one respect and be supercharging in another. Made weirder by the fact that the clear divide between Adora and She-Ra blurred over the years. They overlapped now. She could do things as Adora that she had to do as She-Ra twenty years ago. Merging, she came to think of it. But she'd never been more aware of her mortal bounds than right now. She-Ra would come soon, if this kept up. Adora had her limits and Evangeline tested them now, seemingly unknowingly.
Never, in her whole life, had she felt such power from someone else. Not from the creature that hunted her in the forest, nor the thing that waited for her soul. At the Heart of Etheria, she'd been sure she was the only one in the universe capable of absorbing the magic building in Etheria. But when she looked at Evangeline, she knew the truth—the Queen could've taken the Failsafe, stopped the weapon, and lived to tell the tale.
Evangeline handed the sword back and one of the diplomats sheathed it, causing Adora's magic to recede into its usual soft, but persistent, pool that waited for her command. The burning sensation left as well, though she could still feel its charred hollowness, like a forest after a fire.
"Adora, are you okay? Is it your wound?" Catra whispered, close enough that Adora felt her breathe against her ear.
"It's Queen Evangeline." She bent down so they could be even closer. "Catra, I can feel it. Her magic. She's as powerful as I am. I mean, she just caused my own magic to flare up."
Catra did a quick glance around Adora and then refocused. "You're sure? We've never met anyone like that."
"No," Adora agreed. "Until today. And there's something else—"
"Princesses," Evangeline interrupted, causing both to jerk away from each other. She stood next to the meeting room door with her hands politely laced together. "Are you coming? I believe we're about to start anytime now."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Catra said, "We're right behind you." When Evangeline turned away with a parting smile, Catra sent one last wide-eyed, warning look to Adora.
Suddenly, Adora wanted a fight. Here is your sword, here is your enemy. So easy. She could do that. But as she stared at the rapidly filling meeting room, she doubted she could do much else. These meaningful silences, these unspoken rules, they made no sense. And it was about to get much worse.
She filed in behind Bow, clutched her stomach. It wasn't too late to back out. To run. And she had the perfect excuse—an old war injury, something that just couldn't heal. Evangeline would understand. But, much to her own dismay, she stayed. She sat in her seat, greeted the Eternians according to custom. But why? She had more to lose than to gain. She could be manipulated better than she could ever manipulate. Except she knew that now. Long gone were her days of blindly following the Horde or Light Hope. And maybe, just maybe, some questions she'd asked her whole life could be answered.
So, she stayed and tried to listen. Tried to resist the urge to look at the Queen. Sitting here was a little like picking a scab or pressing a bruise. Evangeline wasn't good for her, neither were those dreams. She should've boarded their ship and been on her way back to Etheria. Their late-night meetings were no coincidence, no leisure cruise. They happened for a reason, and if experience had taught her anything, it was probably for a reason that Adora wouldn't like. And yet she couldn't walk away.
"How old are you?" Evangeline said, interrupting her own diplomat about an hour into the reignited discussions, "How old, Princess Adora?"
Adora blinked, put down the pen she wasn't using. Was Evangeline really talking to her? They'd said little to each other since they'd admitted recognition. And now she wanted to comment on how old Adora was? It felt a little disrespectful somehow, yet in a room full of galactic heroes and legends, Adora only paid attention to the meeting when Evangeline uttered a sentence or two. "I, uhhh, I'm forty-eight."
"Forty-eight. Huh."
"Is that…is that a problem, Your Majesty?" Adora exchanged a look with Brick.
"Not at all, Princess, not at all. It's just…you look like you're about thirty," Evangeline said, searching Adora's face, "You must have a very strong connection to your planet."
Well, not exactly. Not at all, actually. Fading by the minute might be the most accurate answer available. But was that even fair? She'd run away before her standing with Etheria ever became clear. "Yes," Adora said, "Very strong."
Evangeline nodded, almost to herself. "Forty-eight. That would put you…Were you born on Etheria, Princess? You don't feel like it."
"Feel like it, Your Majesty?" Catra asked, not unkindly. But the slight gruffness in her tone made Adora look towards her wife.
"You must forgive me for my bluntness, Princesses," Evangeline said, "But I sense that Princess Adora is different from the rest of your party." Catra's hand suddenly fell on Adora's thigh and squeezed hard. The message was clear: 'Keep your mouth shut.'
"She is our She-Ra, Your Majesty," Catra said smoothly, "She feels different because she is different."
Evangeline looked between them as a small smile appeared on her face, and she said, "You two are very dedicated…colleagues."
"And wives," Catra said, breaking her own rule on not oversharing. Very visibly, very obviously, she knit one of her hands together with Adora's. Almost instantly, heat fanned across Adora's cheeks. Catra remained professional, always, and they'd rarely discussed their relationship at a diplomatic event. It felt kinda…nice? Wrong somehow, too, because they'd veered into personal territory very quickly. But perhaps not without reason. Every single one of these diplomatic meetings were a sort of game. One that Adora played alright and that Catra mastered. If her wife played right along with Evangeline, there had to be a reason.
Evangeline smiled tightly and asked, "Princesses, how long have you been married?"
"We've been together twenty-seven years and been married for almost twenty-one of them, Queen Evangeline," Catra said, "Very happily married, I might add."
"Kids?"
And now hesitation. For the first time in forever, Catra faltered. So, Adora picked up the slack and asked, "Are you married, Your Majesty? Do you have kids?"
Maybe it was in her mind playing tricks, or maybe it was jarring reality, but the room seemed to darken. Even the natural lighting dimmed. They all felt closer, sitting almost on top of each other. The distance between her and Evangeline seemingly evaporated and Adora felt like a personal audience for the terrible scowl painting the Queen's face. Evangeline's own advisors wrung their hands, tensed their jaws. And just like that, the winds changed, blowing colder, cutting deeper.
It was an innocent question, quite normal in fact, for introductory meetings like this. And yet Adora felt as if she'd endangered her friends and family with a single, deadly ask. The sword whispered at her hand, letting her know that she didn't need to fight alone.
But then the lights grew brighter and the whole room let out a collective sigh. Shoulders relaxed as Evangeline leaned back in her chair and uncrossed her arms. The very suns themselves seemed to return to their natural brilliance. Violence averted. But why did it come in the first place? And why did Evangeline, her maybe friend, bring it to a diplomatic meeting? And why did she have to bring it to the one where Adora would be hard pressed to stop her?
Adora looked at the door. She could probably get everyone out and then barricade herself and Evangeline in this room. Seal the door and then seal her own fate. But that was better than watching a massacre of her family.
"So," Evangeline said, almost hoarsely, "You fought Horde Prime, Princess Adora?" She wanted to ask Evangeline what had just happened. Why the change in attitude? But her unrelenting gaze invited no questions, no dissent.
Instead, Adora tilted her chin up to meet Evangeline's eyes. "Yes."
"Then we have something in common, Princess." At that, Evangeline stood and walked to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Adora didn't know where to look—at the scars crisscrossing her back or where her head bobbed lightly as she followed the movement of something outside the window. Those scars. What did she say about them? I'm glad they did it.
Adora shook her head. What did she just say? Horde Prime. Right. "You fought Horde Prime? On Eternia? How is that even possible?"
"Eternia and Etheria used to be the two closest planets to each other. Up until I moved us, we were quite close to where you are now. He found us there. Made quick work of us. I would say decimated is an apt descriptor. But then I had an idea. An idea I got from you."
"From Adora?" Brick asked before adding, "Your Majesty."
"Indeed, Prince Brick, son of Queen Glimmer and King Bow." Adora couldn't decide if Evangeline said this with mockery or not. She turned from the window, her harsh look softening when she made eye contact with Adora. "Mara. Adora. The name changes, so does the face. But it's still you. Is it not?"
So many people turned to look at Adora, her closest friends and family completely reassessing who she was. Adora. She-Ra. Which one was she? She could almost see that question flitter across each and every one of her friends' faces.
Her younger self would deny, would probably be confused. She was just Adora, nothing more and nothing less. But now she knew better. "Yes," Adora confirmed. She lacked the words to properly explain how she was both herself and someone more ageless. How she occupied more than the here and now. How she had lived a thousand years ago and would live another thousand. How dying was a reflex and living was a memory. But she got the feeling that Evangeline would need no introduction to this concept.
"How strange it is to see you after so long. When you were Mara, I only met you once. You were tired, and it wasn't long after that you died. I remember that you were kind." Evangeline smiled at the memory. "Weeks later, I remember learning that you'd transported Etheria to another dimension. I obsessed over the idea. More recently, I began to remember my research from that past life. When we were at our most desperate, I recalled what you did and then I did it myself. Eternia remains there to this day, all thanks to you."
"You're welcome for the idea, but you're the one who moved Eternia." Adora bit her lip. How old was the Queen when she did all this? Eternia had to have been missing for almost thirty years for any of this to make sense. "How old were you when you moved it?"
"Fourteen."
Adora sat back in her chair and let out a low whistle. "I was in my twenties when I did it the first and second time." She could sense Evangeline's power even from across the table. She'd never met anyone who radiated so much magical energy, and perhaps even that feeling understated the Queen's true capabilities. Evangeline smiled at what was no doubt a wide-eyed reaction from Adora.
"You probably could've done the same if not for the Horde. If Shadow Weaver wasn't tormenting you, you probably could've accessed your powers a lot sooner." The Queen stood silhouetted against the window, fists tight against her side. People on both sides of the table shifted, but her gaze was for Adora alone. Someone pinning her down couldn't have done a better job at keeping her in place. "I hate her for that. For what she stole from you and, by extension, from the world." Adora believed her. How could she not? She'd heard rousing political speeches with less conviction.
Evangeline walked a few steps to the long, wooden table that the rest of the room sat at. She leaned against it, drummed her fingers. Still her gaze held only Adora's. "It's terrible what happened to you. In that place. And all for power. The worst motivator, and also maybe the best." She paused, cast her eyes down in thought. "Do you like being the Princess of Power?"
"Uhhh, ya." Adora swallowed, put more confidence in her voice. "Yes. Do you like being the Imperator?"
Evangeline laughed, and some of the guards tensed. Was it going to happen again? That switch being flicked on? That anger coming to a boil? Her wound ached at the thought. Her head felt too light, the room blurred. This emotional ricocheting was too much. Her heart racing, then coming back down, then racing again. Here, she realized, there was no solid ground.
"When I was about twenty-five," Evangeline started, "I met a man that I still think about nearly every day. He still might be the most violent person I've ever met. Anyway, I asked him one day what he thinks happens to us when we die. I don't remember why I asked honestly. But I do remember his answer. It was so simple. He said, 'Paradise awaits us.' I liked that sentiment. Sometimes I even love it. But it's not for us, Adora. There is nothing waiting for us but more war, more death. I know you feel it, too. We've been the heroes of too many wars, and that's not stopping anytime soon."
A hero of one too many wars? Was that Adora? Her aching soul said yes.
"Not just wars," Adora said, "Losing wars. I fought too many battles I knew I couldn't win. Life to life, that's the thing I remember the most. That familiar, particular pain of fighting in a war you cannot win. How every wound does not count towards victory and every loss brings you one step closer to the inevitable."
"I knew you'd get it," Evangeline said, looking up with a smile. "It's a complicated question, isn't it? Do you like being She-Ra? Do you like being the Imperator? I hate it, I love it, and that mostly depends on the day."
Surprised and a little bit delighted to hear her own opinion spoken out loud, Adora couldn't help but chuckle. "I couldn't have said it better myself."
Evangeline stood up again and slunk around the table to Etheria's side. Adora's guard captain made direct eye contact with her, an obvious question on her face—'Should I be worried?' Adora shook her head no. But was that the right answer?
"We've been separated for too long, you and I," Evangeline said, coming to a halt behind Adora's chair. Adora swiveled around, never more aware of someone towering over her. But the smile on Evangeline's face remained genuine, as did her warm eyes. Probably she had no idea how domineering she could seem. "We're supposed to be a team, just like our planets. It's been a long thousand years without you, my friend. We lost a lot by losing each other."
Adora nodded, shut her eyes. The memories came slow, but they came. The Imperator and She-Ra, push and pull, day and night. So many battles fought, so many jokes shared.
For her entire adult life, Adora thought she was alone. Somehow both carrying the loneliness of the First and Last She-Ra. If she asked, 'Does anyone else feel the same?' The answer came back in a million different ways. Perhaps no stronger than when she'd felt She-Ra slip from her desperate grip and no one understood her utter devastation. She remembered, too, the looks she received after moving Etheria through dimensions. Looks of unbridled hope and infectious fear. Looks that could only be borne out of a lack of comprehension. She remembered how it snuck in one day, the horrid little truth of her lonely situation, when Glimmer activated the Heart, and she hadn't wondered about the sensation of burning alive. The same sensation that still kept Adora awake three decades later. Yes, she knew the answer to her question. Knew it well. An answer that began as a nagging feeling before she realized its true nature as the law of the land.
All alone. She opened her eyes, met Evangeline's gaze. Until today.
"You're right. But it doesn't have to be that way anymore," Adora said, "We've lost a lot of time, but we don't have to lose a second more. Together we could do so much for the galaxy. I mean, imagine what our powers combined could do. The possibilities are limitless."
Evangeline smiled at that. "I like that you still dream big. I've lost that ability, so you'll have to make up for my lack." She turned away from Adora and again went to one of the enormous windows lining the room. "But I like the idea. And you're right. We could do so much together." Adora opened her mouth to agree, but Evangeline continued, "When do you think it happened?"
Adora exchanged a look with Catra, then Brick. Constant misdirection and confusing turns in conversation were all tactics used to throw negotiations off. To unsaddle the other side and wear down their resolve. Others did it by accident rather than malicious strategy, weaving their thoughts around the directionless nature of their thoughts. Evangeline could be either, Adora decided. "What happened?"
She stood closer this time, causing her jagged scars to look even more defined against her pale skin. Her rippling muscles also reinforced an even earlier thought—the guards were all for show. "When do you think you became She-Ra?" Evangeline asked.
If she had to pick a moment, she'd choose her arrival through Light Hope's portal. Swaddled in Hordak's arms and seeing Etheria for the first time. But it was a good question. One Adora seldom contemplated. When did the switch happen? When did she go from the Imperator to She-Ra? When had Eternia let her go and when had Etheria caught her? "I don't know. At birth, I guess."
"You think so?"
"I really don't know," Adora said, truthfully, "When do you think you became the Imperator?"
"Oh, easy. The first time I killed someone. I was always going to be the Imperator. I was born to it. But I truly didn't become her until I killed someone."
Adora laughed, cringing at the nervous tic she still hadn't quite grown out of. Dreading both her own curiosity and the answer, Adora asked, "And when was the first time you killed someone?"
"I wasn't the early bloomer like you were, Princess. I didn't quite have your razor-sharp rage. So it took me a while. Years of simmering finally made me do it when I was fourteen. The same year I moved Eternia, you might note. I killed that kid and became the Imperator. It really is as simple as that."
Adora went for her glass of water and drained it. Her mouth had run dry, so had her throat. "You mean you didn't have full access to your powers until you killed him?"
"That's precisely what I mean." Evangeline turned around and raised her eyebrows. "Your surprise surprises me. She-Ra is exactly the same."
"She's not," Adora said, "She's not violent like that. I don't need violence to activate her. Never have."
"So you haven't killed anyone?"
Adora shifted in her chair, glanced around at her audience. She didn't want to have this conversation, and she really didn't want to have it in front of her closest friends and colleagues. "I didn't say that."
Evangeline smirked at her answer, and Adora was in trouble. She'd found Adora's soft underbelly, and the tearing had begun. "Do you know why you were chosen as She-Ra, Princess?"
"No. But I suppose I've always wondered, Your Majesty." Adora could try and mitigate the attack. Parry the blows. And step one of that was appearing unruffled. "Enlighten me."
"You're a warrior, a fighter, and, inevitably, you're a killer. That's what Etheria cares about. Nothing else. If you want someone to defend you, you want someone who will kill for you. And you want someone who will do it well. And so we stand here, my friend, as the so-called chosen ones," Evangeline spat, "Not for any other reason than the fact we're excellent at fighting and killing people." She cracked her knuckles and Adora's heart began yet another upswing.
"We, umm, might have different perspectives on our positions, Your Majesty." She looked over at Catra and found her wife's face painted with the same concern swirling in her own stomach.
"That's all you are to them, Adora." Evangeline's eyes darted towards Catra. "Princess Adora, I mean. Apologies. But I mean it. Never make the mistake of thinking Etheria, or whatever other powers that may be, are interested in you beyond your body count."
Someone behind Adora cleared their throat. Loudly. Adora turned to find a robed man staring at Evangeline with blazing eyes. He'd been introduced, but she couldn't remember his name or title. A plain, silver chain hung around his neck with a similarly plain medallion at the bottom. Adora squinted at it. It was a single, open eye. Forever looking. Adora shivered, turned around. That was none of her business and good.
Evangeline muttered something, then turned back to her Etherian audience. Her stormy green eyes settled once her attention was once again back on Adora. "I've heard people say you were a member of the Lost Generation. What does that mean? The Lost Generation?"
"It refers to the kids taken by the Horde," Adora explained, "We were made into child soldiers. Lots of us were taken from our families and trained for war. That happened to Catra and I. But the Lost Generation is a little bit of a misnomer, I think."
"And why is that, Princess?"
"It's bleak. It sounds like we were never found. Like we're still wandering around, waiting to be rescued. But we're old now. Things have moved on. We were lost but now we're found."
"A romantic view of the situation, no doubt. I admire your idealism, Princess Adora. But you must forgive me if I don't share it. Do you think you've moved on? Really, in your heart of hearts? Because I've watched you unravel every night. I have seen what the Horde was like, my friend. And please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you've moved on," Evangeline said, taking a step forward, "And I think the Lost Generation captures that sentiment entirely."
"I'm sorry but do you two know each other?" Glimmer interrupted, looking wildly between Evangeline and Adora. "Adora, what is going on?" Adora massaged her temples, closed her eyes.
"We do, Queen Glimmer," Evangeline said, "We've been seeing each other every night for months now. In each other's dreams. Dreams I have greatly come to appreciate, Princess." When Glimmer's questioning gaze reached Adora, she nodded weakly.
"What the fuck?" Glimmer practically yelled, rising from her seat.
Evangeline let out a laugh, smiled, and said, "And here I thought you had a stick up your ass, Your Majesty. I'm glad to see you have a little fire."
"Time out. Time the fuck out," Glimmer said, raising her hands, "Recess. We need a recess. Right the fuck now."
"Don't let me stop you, Queen Glimmer," Evangeline said, bowing low, "We'll be here when you wish to continue." She held her head high, stood straight up. She hadn't been Queen long and yet it was hard to imagine her as anything less.
With a terse flick of Glimmer's wrist, the entire Etherian delegation was outside the room in record time. They moved with determination to their private chambers, leaving everyone but the core group outside. Adora scrubbed at her face, waited for the fallout. And it came.
As soon as the door shut, Glimmer whipped around so she stood only a few inches from Adora. She stood almost a half-foot shorter and yet Adora felt herself shrink back. Fists closed tight by her side, her mouth a thin line. Everywhere Adora looked, she could find no ally in Glimmer.
"Uhhh, surprise?" Adora smiled wide, hoping to disarm with her trusty charm. But not even Brick laughed and the situation was much worse than she'd originally expected.
"What the fuck, Adora? Actually, what the fuck? You know Queen Evangeline? That would've been nice to know, you know, like five months ago."
"I can explain."
"You better."
"So, uhhh, I've been having these dreams. Almost every night. And they're pretty…" Ruinous? Slowly but surely destroying her life? "...bad. They're memories, mostly. And I meet a woman there, pretty much without fail. She comes to me and sometimes I even go to her. And we usually talk about whatever memory we just watched. And these memories, you guys, you have to understand. They're not normal, they're…messed up."
"Like they don't make sense?" Brick asked, "They're out of order or something?"
"No." At that, Adora turned away and went to a window. She looked out onto the castle's grounds and watched a few horses being cooled down after a ride. For some reason, that gave her a little boost to continue speaking. "They're things that happened to me, to those around me. Things I would rather forget. Things I can't unsee or undo. Things I wish I could take back or change. Things," Adora took a deep breath, "That haunt me till this very day. Things that will stay with me until I die."
She expected some sort of comment, but she was met with a wall of silence. She turned back around, eyed each of her grim-faced friends. "The woman who meets me, evidently, is Evangeline. But I didn't know it was her, I swear. I thought she was just a part of the dream." Adora let out a bitter laugh before continuing, "Can you blame me? Have you guys ever heard of meeting someone for real in a dream? I haven't, but I guess I am the stupidest person here."
"That's not—" Catra started but stopped when Adora raised a hand for quiet.
"So, yes, she knows me. She knows me very well. And I'm sorry about that, but I didn't know. Believe me, I wish those things stayed with me, and only me, but they didn't and here we are." More softly, Adora added, "So, what now?"
Her friends glanced between each other and Adora, eyes dark and lips curiously closed. But their silence validated her own thoughts. This whole situation was fucked up and there was little to say about it.
"Is that why you've been acting like such a crazy person?" Brick asked. She couldn't help but smile a little. Of course he'd be the one to break such a meaningful silence with such blunt determination.
"Probably…Yes. When I say these dreams happen every night, I mean every night." Adora stopped, tried to gather her scattered thoughts. The next part would hurt everyone, especially Catra. But it was the truth. Spirits, what a fucking mess. "The things I've told her, you guys, you have to understand, I've never told anyone some of this stuff before. I've never said it out loud. So, actually, this is probably way worse than we all thought. I mean, she knows so much about me. You'll see, I'm sure."
Predictably, Catra looked immediately wounded. If Adora were in her shoes, she'd feel the same way. They told each other everything. Or they were supposed to. After the Heart, they'd promised to keep no secrets from each other in an effort to rebuild the trust they'd both damaged. And yet, here Adora stood, openly admitting that she'd broken that promise. And worse, she'd talked to someone else about these secrets, secrets she couldn't even say to her own wife.
Adora sat before she could give into the urge of either collapsing or throwing up or some intriguing combination of the two. The world was a little too invasive today. Too loud. Too bright. Too everything. It crashed around her, much like her imploding sense of security. Rarely did she think about breathing, now her chest felt ragged from the effort.
She hoped the muted colors could be blamed on Etheria. Her sour moods coming from stormy summer skies. But here they were on Inuva and she hadn't outrun what she now realized was the main problem: herself.
"Can we talk?" A quiet voice making a quiet ask. She looked up, found Catra's wonderfully mismatched eyes above her.
Adora nodded as the rest of the group filed out of the room. Brick looked over his shoulder, gave her a thumbs up, and then they were gone, leaving just her and Catra.
Catra sat beside her, somehow both too close and too far away. She took one of Adora's hands and clasped it between both of hers. "Are you okay? That should've been our first question, by the way. I'm sorry it wasn't. You're just so…steady. And sometimes we put too much on you."
"Me?" Adora said, "You're worried about me? I just broke your heart. Again, dammit." Adora closed her eyes, willed an oncoming headache away.
"First of all, that's not true. Second, we can talk about that later—"
"We should talk about it now," Adora said. Her guilt would eat her up, or what was left of her, if they didn't talk it out right now. Her already diminished capacity to concentrate would shrink further if they weren't good, if they weren't secure. Nothing else was going right, she couldn't fumble her marriage, too.
"Okay," Catra said slowly, "Let's talk about it now."
"I'm sorry I've been keeping secrets from you. I know we promised that we wouldn't." Adora took an audibly strained breath. "Catra…it's hard, sometimes, to talk to you about the Horde. And it isn't you. I promise. It isn't you. It's me. Which sounds like a lame excuse, but it's true. You're the easiest person in the world to talk about the Horde with, because you were there. But on the flip side, you might also be the hardest and for the same reason."
"Why is it so hard?" Catra asked, still smoothing a thumb over Adora's knuckles.
"Because it's always been complicated between us when it comes to the Horde. I left you and I know how much I hurt you. I still hate myself for that. And I know I should've protected you and I didn't do that, either. I hate myself for that too. You're my soulmate. I love you so much, then and now, and I can't stand myself for leaving you behind. And I know what you went through. How you were tortured and abused. I don't wanna add to that sorrow. And you're doing so well. You have been, for years. I don't wanna rip that wound open, I guess. I want you to be healed and I want you to stay there. I don't want you to be like me."
Her blood-soaked melancholy felt contagious. Like she could crack open her skin and doom Catra to the same fate of a half-lived life. But if she stopped now, resentment would grow. Every time Catra looked at her, she'd wonder what Adora kept from her. And, more importantly, she'd begin to wonder why.
"We fought a war over this," Adora said, shocking herself with how worn she sounded. "A fucking war. That's how bad it was. Three of the longest years of my life happened because we were so messed up from the Horde. I hurt you. You hurt me. Of course it's hard to talk about. And then these dreams started happening and I didn't have to be brave. I just fell into them, you have to understand. I didn't plan it, I didn't want it, but they happened anyway. And then this woman shows up during them and it's a dream, so I think it's just me I'm talking to. We don't have a war between us. We didn't grow up together; we didn't have kids. It's just me talking it out. Do you see how easy it all seemed? It was my mind remembering, trying to piece truths together, and trying to heal. I'm sorry I've never told you some of this stuff, Catra. If I knew Evangeline was a real person, I never would have talked to her instead of you. If I ever told anyone, you would be that person."
Adora stopped, chewed her lip. Please, please let Catra see that she truly didn't mean to hurt her. She didn't even want the dreams. She'd tried to get out of them a couple of times, tried to fight their vice-like grip on her. But they wouldn't be denied. They'd returned every single night until her resolve eroded away.
"Emotionally, illogically, I'm a little bit hurt," Catra said, making Adora's heart drop several stories, "Some selfish part of me wants to know your every secret. It hates that you told this other woman instead of me. But another part, the better part of me, understands that you have every right to your secrets. As long as it's not like, I don't know, you cheating on me—"
"Never," Adora vowed.
"I know." Catra scooted closer and kissed Adora on the cheek. "I see how these dreams have affected you, and I can't even imagine what's in them. But I never want you to feel like you ever have to tell me anything. I want you to tell me because you want to. And if you never want to tell me, I respect that as well. Really, all I want is for you to be okay. I want you to be happy. And I know that you're not right now. And that breaks my heart." Catra's voice was low and rough, full of sadness and grief. Perhaps more than anything else, Adora hated that she'd done this to her other half. But what else could she do? If she tried to hide, their lifetime of closeness faded in weeks, if not days. If she was truthful, she wounded with a master swordsman's precision. There was no easy answer; no button to make this all go away. If she'd just died at the Heart of Etheria, if she'd just stayed on Eternia, none of this would have happened.
With her free hand, Adora wiped at her moistening eyes and nodded before saying, "I can't escape her. Or the Horde. I can't turn it around, no matter what I do. I want to be a good wife to you. I want to be a wonderful mother. I want to be the kind of She-Ra that Etheria doesn't regret. But I can't get out of those hallways, I can't leave the barracks. I'm trying so hard to be the person you think I am, but I can't figure my way out of this. And then in comes Evangeline and she's been through so much of the same things as I have and maybe that helps. Now, I'm not so sure, but I thought it was nice at the time."
"We've been through a lot of the same things," Catra pointed out. Adora almost wanted to take her words the wrong way. Wanted to make it a fight. Adora wanted to say that Catra had no idea, not even a little, what it was like to be She-Ra. So much so they had a war over it. But what would that do?
But perhaps the worst part were the things they almost shared: their overlapping abuse versus their private suffering. Catra was close enough that she'd never get over everything she missed. Others could be excused, they weren't there. But Catra had a front row seat, she just had to put the pieces together. Or at least, that's what she'd tell herself. Adora knew the truth—it wasn't Catra's fault. But that would never be easy to explain.
"We have," Adora agreed. She hesitated. Who was she helping and who was she hurting with this next revelation? But a more pressing thought took over—who was she hurting with silence? "But there are things that happened to me that…" Adora ran a hand through her hair and looked at everything in the room except her dear wife. "...I never told you about."
Catra cocked her head. "Like what?"
Like what? Like what? That phrase echoed through her mind, brushed up against everything she'd ever known. The day was a terrible time to disintegrate. People weren't supposed to fall apart in the light. That was for midnight, that was for the darkness. Where neither yourself nor others could watch you unravel in real time. Right now, they sat by a window, where Catra could see her in perfect clarity. Her bleeding heart, her wounded soul, all betraying her.
"It's so hard to remember, exactly. Those murky years. I've told you a little bit already. I dug graves and I let my anger get the best of me. I hurt other kids every chance I got and I did it with a sort of glee that makes me want to throw up now. And—" Adora choked on her next sentence. She wanted to blame the reaction on Catra. She was trying to protect her secretly sensitive wife. And maybe that really was part of it. But Adora knew, in her heart's most center chambers, that she was stopped by her own fragility.
Catra put a hand on one of Adora's forearms, sending her ricocheting around in her own skin. Adora jerked away, stood up, and walked over to a window. Getting touched right now would unravel her coiled nerves.
Catra declined to follow her, and Adora almost thanked her for her nonaction. But then she said, "What is going on?" and Adora could barely stand to be in the room with her. Could barely stand being anywhere, honestly. She touched the window frame, willed herself to come back into her body.
But then someone else spoke. Someone with the same voice as Adora, someone much braver than herself. "Did you ever think about how many people knew Shadow Weaver was like that? Because it was a lot. Too many. Maybe that's the thing that gets to me the most. That idea is still sinking in, though. Maybe I'll feel differently in a couple of years. Or maybe not. So many people and nothing was ever done. Does that piss you off? Does it make your head spin?"
Catra didn't immediately answer and Adora didn't immediately turn around. Here it was again: their parallel but ultimately different experiences acting as a roadblock. "It does," Catra said finally, "I'm not sure I'll ever get over it. Even the good people, the ones we liked, didn't do anything. And it's hard to know what to do with that."
This time, Adora did turn around. She should've been sad that they harbored these same feelings, but she only felt relieved. "I'm struggling with that now. How could they do that to us? How could they just sit there and watch? They weren't all bad, I know that." A thought, a dangerous one, gripped her until she spewed it out. "Is that what it felt like when you looked at me? Because I was one of those people. And when I left…fuck! I think I'm getting why you hated me." Adora kicked the wall, felt her boot sink into the stone. "I wouldn't stand up for you, but I left for someone else. That would drive me fucking insane."
"Adora," Catra said, her voice straining so hard that the red tint in Adora's vision extinguished. "Please calm down." Had she done that? Did she put that look of fear into Catra's eyes? It must've been her. Who else was around?
Ever the potent antidote to anger, shame worked its magic and stole her seething energy. And then it was just her and Catra again, alone in a room. "Catra, I…Spirits, did I scare you?" How could she do this? To anyone, but most especially to Catra? She walked around the table and sat down next to her wife. But she did not touch. She'd never push Catra's boundaries like that. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just…I let anger get the better of me. I would never hurt you. Ever." But that wasn't true, was it? She'd fought Catra before, both physically and verbally. True, they were enemies back then. But did that really matter? She could say with complete truthfulness that she knew what it was like to punch her own wife.
How had she messed this up so badly? One wrong decision after another since she was just a child. Another She-Ra probably wouldn't have been in the Horde or if they had been, maybe they would've gone back and convinced Catra to defect. And then they never would've fought, never would've been enemies. They never would've had to have this conversation, and they never would've had to sit in this loaded silence.
"Adora?" She said it so quietly Adora almost didn't hear her.
"Hmmm?"
"Can I hug you?"
Still with her head in her hands, Adora nodded her consent. A moment later, she felt arms envelop her and she let herself be pulled into Catra's chest. She liked to think of herself as the comforter. People came to her for reassurance, for someone solid to grab a hold of. She wasn't the one who needed help up; she didn't need help steering in the storm. So what happened when she couldn't be that person? When she was the burden?
Right now, in Catra's arms, after practically yelling at her, she'd never felt like such dead weight. On the ship, she made everyone's lives harder by simply being alive. But now she'd actively participated in upsetting Catra. It felt like a new low. "You should've left me on Etheria. At least there I couldn't yell at you."
Catra's hand lightly combed through her blonde hair while she said, "You're hurting right now, and you're making yourself crazy. So, take a deep breath. And know that I'm here for you and I'm not going anywhere."
Adora did as she was told and drew in a deep breath before releasing it. Her racing thoughts slowed, as did her pounding heart. "I'm sorry I scared you. I can't believe I did that. I'm not that person, Catra. You know that, right?"
"I know that," Catra confirmed, "And I know there's a lot on your plate. Between Queen Evangeline and the forest…I can't imagine what you're feeling right now. But please don't yell at me. I'm on your side, one hundred percent. I'm not the problem."
"I know. Spirits, I know. It's not you that's the problem, it's me. It's my–" Her what? Her inability to go on? She'd always been good at putting one foot forward, at walking if she couldn't run, at crawling if she couldn't walk. Then she'd slipped and she couldn't find it in herself to get back up. "It's just me. I see that now. So crystal clear I can't believe I didn't realize before. I thought I was so different. My steady hands and my steady heart…But maybe Evangeline is right about me. Maybe I'm She-Ra because something is broken in me."
"She's not right, about a lot of things, but especially about you. You're not broken, you're not a problem, and you're not a burden," Catra murmured, "I will say it until you believe me."
"You might be talking your whole life," Adora said, still hugging Catra for dear life.
"Then so be it."
She appreciated everything Catra said. But she wanted more. Something a little bit more painful, something a little bit more truthful. She wanted Catra to look her in the eyes and tell her she knew she was falling apart. And somehow make that okay. But Catra wasn't a miracle worker and they still had children to think about. Adora had a million reasons why she couldn't be this hollowed out version of herself. And not one had stopped her steady descent.
But she didn't know how to say any of this. How not to spiral, how not to yell. She'd missed that lesson somehow. She'd been in the medbay that day. So she kept silent, fearing both her lack of eloquence and her red-hot temper that kept catching fire at the worst moments. No, it would not be her that breached this silence.
So Catra did it instead. "When you were talking about going through the same things, you said you've never told me some of what happened." As she spoke, Catra pulled back a little so they could see each other better.
Adora rarely begged, now she did it freely. "Please don't push me on that."
Catra furrowed her eyebrows and searched Adora's face. She held her breath, waited for a furious reaction she knew would never come. "I won't. But you can tell me anything, you know that, right? I will be here if, and when, you need me."
"I know and thank you," Adora said, "And—"
A knock at the door interrupted her and she unfurled from Catra in time to see Bow's head peak into the room. "Glimmer is getting a little impatient out here, guys. I told her we should just leave you alone for the rest of the morning, but she wants to figure out our strategy. So—"
Glimmer pushed past him into the room and Bow shot them an apologetic look before following her in. "You two can have all the time you need, but first we gotta figure our shit out with Queen Evangeline. She is still waiting, and Spirits only know what she's planning. If we take any longer than we already have, we're gonna look like a total clusterfuck of a planet."
"Well, if the shoe fits," Brick said, gliding past his parents with Sunny hot on his heels. Glimmer glared at him with such unrelenting maternal energy that even Adora felt compelled to never speak again.
"Anyways," Bow began, "We need a game plan. Are we going back in? Or are we calling it here?"
"I don't like this," Catra said, "My skin is fucking crawling. To be honest, it feels like some sort of trap. I say we thank the Queen and then leave."
"No!" Adora and Glimmer said at the same time, causing them both to look at each other in mild shock.
Glimmer waited a moment before saying, "We're here now, and we should hear her out. We owe Tirik that much. And between her and the Eternians back home, I'm not sure who to believe. We came here to get to the bottom of this, so let's get it done. I'm not traveling another week and half just to end up with more questions than answers."
"I couldn't agree more," Adora said.
"Do you really think we're going to get answers, though?" Bow asked, "It's not like she's being super forthcoming with any information. She's just getting under Adora's skin. And I can't see her stopping. If we go back in there, I bet it'll be the same thing."
"I think so, too," Catra said before looking at Adora, "She's not gonna let up on you. You've caught her interest and she's not gonna let it go."
Thing was, the feeling was mutual. "I've never met anyone like me before. Here's an opportunity to learn more about another living, breathing She-Ra basically. I can't walk away from that."
"Maybe you should," Brick said, causing all four older adults to turn to the young man. "With all this weird shit that's going on lately, do you really want to push your luck with this woman? She's in your dreams for a reason, Adora. Is it really a good idea to stick around and find out why?"
"Huh," Catra said, "That's maybe the smartest thing I've heard you say…ever."
"Ya, ya," Brick said with a roll of his eyes, "But my points still stand. I appreciate how large and needy your ego is, Adora. But maybe this is a fight you can't win."
"Who said anything about fighting?" Adora said, "I just wanna talk to someone who's from my homeworld and who gets what being She-Ra is like. Sorry if that inconveniences the rest of you. If you want to leave, go ahead. I'll figure out another way home."
"Adora…Spirits." Glimmer massaged her temples. "We're not gonna leave you here alone."
"Then back me up on this," Adora said, "I don't ask for a lot, but I'm asking now."
Her friends looked at each other, and it wasn't hard to both see and feel their mutual discomfort. If it was any other situation, any other person, she'd cave. She'd agree to leave today. But Evangeline wasn't just anybody and she'd wonder for the rest of her life what could've happened if they'd stayed on Inuva.
"Okay," Glimmer said, "Okay. We've got your back. We're with you all the way."
"But don't take this opportunity to be a complete and utter idiot," Brick added.
"Me?" Adora said, unable to stop herself from grinning. "An idiot? Never."
…
"So, we're all on the same page now?" Evangeline inquired. "All up to date?" When everyone nodded with various degrees of enthusiasm, she continued, "Good. We have a lot to discuss." She paused, scanned Adora's uniform before adding, "The war hero. You wear that title well, you know that? No one looks the part better than you."
Adora sighed. Here they went. Her friends' prediction was right on the money. Another Adora-centric conversation, another onslaught. But she'd play ball. "Hero? I'm not a hero."
Evangeline laughed at that. "You don't think so? Not just anyone could've walked away from the Horde. Not just anyone could've defeated Horde Prime."
"I've done heroic things, but I'm no hero."
"What do you think a hero is, Princess Adora, if not someone who does heroic things?"
Strangely, she didn't know. Maybe it was a state of mind? Maybe it was something you grew into? She did, however, know what a hero wasn't. A hero didn't just save themselves from the Horde. A real hero would've turned around, would've taken her friends with her. A hero wouldn't have lured someone to the laundry room, wouldn't have bashed their teeth in. "I don't know, Your Majesty. But I know it's not me."
Evangeline narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips, and said, "I can't figure you out. You can't stand the idea of being chosen as She-Ra because you're a fighter, a killer. But you can't stomach the idea that you're a hero, either. I've come to accept the Imperator is a little bit of both. So why haven't you?"
"Maybe you're a little bit of both, Your Majesty, and you're projecting it onto the Imperator. You're giving the position too much credit and yourself not enough."
"Interesting. Hmmm, I hadn't thought about it like that." Her eyes went out of focus as she gazed at something behind Adora. "But choice is a luxury I've never been able to afford. How about you, Princess? How many choices can you say you've freely made?"
"In the Horde?" Adora began, "Almost none. And after that? During the war?" She wracked her brain hard, ready for the memory of choice to float easily to the top. But she could only think of two. First, when she'd left the Horde. And maybe at the Heart, when she'd chosen to live. But anything else? She couldn't come up with even one more. "Also almost none." She expected some sort of triumphant reaction from Evangeline, maybe an 'I told you so.' But all she got was a sad, knowing smile. "One time, when I was quite young, someone told me that I don't get to choose. That I'm chosen."
Evangeline let out a laugh at that, but she was the only one to do so in the full room. "Wow! No subtlety there. But they do that, don't they? These people who think they hold so much power over us. They come in as parents, as lovers, as friends. But their true nature gets revealed and they lose all sense of subtlety. It all starts coming out then. How they really see us." Evangeline's eyes darted to Catra then back to Adora. "Strange how when push comes to shove, they'd rather have the weapon than the person." If she meant Catra, she couldn't be further from the truth. Although her sentiment carried universal weight. Catra was the exception, not the rule. "I can see that you want to argue this point. So I'll lead with an example: Shadow Weaver."
Adora leaned both arms on the table and scrubbed at her face. She didn't have the words nor energy to convey how little she wanted to have this conversation. "Let's not do this."
"Princess Adora, you have no sense of fun. This is a simple thought exercise. Imagine Shadow Weaver is sitting here and—" Despite knowing better, Adora couldn't help but laugh.
"What?"
"Imagining her here is a little hard to do." When the Queen still looked confused, Adora added, "She's been dead for thirty years."
Evangeline's hands, previously folded on the table, curled into fists and her face twisted into a cold fury. The lamp closest to the Queen went out with a pop and the other lights began to flicker. Here it came again, a power unlike anything Adora had ever experienced. The roof groaned as energy got pulled into Evangeline's control. But it did not entirely go to her. As she wound up, so too did Adora. Between her glove and sleeve cuff, a sliver of Adora's skin glowed blue with First Ones writing. But as her magic pressed, so too did her wound.
Evangeline stood and prowled around the room, causing her advisors to shrink away, make themselves smaller. They were trapped in a cage that Adora was not. Evangeline would not strike Adora, but, judging by the looks on their faces, the same couldn't be said of her council. Somehow everybody knew this, and the room buzzed with oncoming violence. There was only one person in the room that could stop her if it escalated. Or so Evangeline thought. Adora knew the truth—if they fought right now, the Queen would win. Maybe not easily, but she would. The trick was making her think they stood on equal footing. That they were in equal health.
Adora drew more power in, let her magic drink up both the room's energy and her own. She didn't need a huge power surge, she just had to make Evangeline think twice. Make her remember that her equal sat five feet away. And it seemed to work. She stopped, almost froze, and turned to face Adora. Slowly her shoulders let down and the lights came back on. All she needed was a gentle reminder to behave. Satisfied she'd made her point, Adora let her magic fade away.
"Please tell me you're joking," Evangeline said.
"I'm not. She's really dead."
Evangeline moved too fast for Adora to fully comprehend what she was doing. One second they spoke, the next, the Queen's chair exploded into a hail of wooden pieces. Her magic must've still been with her; she'd moved too fast for any natural explanation. She held two of the chair's legs in her hands, but the rest laid across the table and floor. Even from a distance of several feet, Adora could see her heaving chest.
Behind her, two, then three, then four swords unsheathed. She knew what they were—Etherian guards about to make a tense situation much worse. Adora held up a hand, signaling they stop. Evangeline would go no further, not with Adora here. Still, she didn't need her guards testing that theory.
"That fucking bitch," Evangeline growled, "Of course she died. And let me guess, she went and got herself killed before she got any sort of justice."
"That predictable, huh?"
The Queen turned, her back and arm muscles rippling with the movement. She had eyes only for Adora when she spoke. "When I killed my abuser, I felt free for the first time in my life. Truly free. And I wanted that so badly for you, my friend. I hate to watch you crumble like this. I wanted to get you out of your torment. And I thought I knew how. Kill Shadow Weaver and we could save you. It worked for me, it could work for you. I thought we'd hunt her down and avenge you. A sword's justice cuts a swift path." Finally, her eyes came off Adora and she looked around the room. "You must forgive my temper, Your Majesties, Prince, Princesses. I should not have behaved that way. But you must understand how I've longed to get your Princess Adora out from under the Horde's boot. And now I fear that opportunity has gone." One of the Queen's advisors offered their chair and she sat with a thud. Suddenly, her hunched shoulders straightened and she said, "But maybe it's not gone. Death is not the barrier I once thought it was. Right, Princess Adora?"
Dark magic. Over the years, Adora earned a reputation for honorable fighting, for her magical prowess and her skill with a sword. But she'd earned another, albeit less well known, reputation as the galaxy's best defense against dark magic. "You don't wanna mess with those forces, Your Majesty. Trust me."
"Perhaps not," Evangeline admitted, "But I still want to help you heal. If there's anything I've learned, Princess, it's that we don't get closure, we make it. So maybe there's someone else who deserves some justice." She drummed her fingers against the table and her eyes brightened with an idea. "Someone like…What's his name? Hordak."