Author's Note: My apologies for taking so long to post this chapter! I have no excuse other than that law school has sucked the soul from me and takes up all my time. Please enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 24: Corruption
Catra held her with an iron-like grip, as if Adora was about to disappear off the face of Eternia. Which, considering everything, probably wasn't a far-fetched fear.
Would she come back for round two? Adora watched the door the woman exited through but nothing else stirred. Even the clocks had gone still, all stuck at the same time of 8:12 PM.
Trays of food, gallons of drink, and her own blood mixed on the floor into a kaleidoscope of almost catastrophe. It felt like a gunshot an inch from the heart, a sword a millimeter away from the jugular. She could've easily died tonight. The Sword of Protection had been no protection at all. Evangeline, the only person who even came close to having the same power as the mysterious woman, had done nothing. On this point, her mind lingered.
"Holy fucking—What the fuck?" Brick yelled. His voice broke the delicate, silent seal that encased the room. Servants began to scramble across the room, their furious feet crunching through broken glassware. They began to clean. Cleaning after all this. Not calming each other. Not getting reassurances from their leader. Fucking cleaning. Something shifted in her.
Adora turned on her heel, bringing Catra along with her. She picked through the crowd, found her. She jabbed her finger at Evangeline. "You could've done something. You let her do that to me!"
"Me?" Evangeline said, smacking an outraged hand across her chest. "What the fuck could I have done? The Goddess of Time answers to no one, especially not to me. You saw that yourself. She burned the Sword of Protection from your fucking hands."
Adora looked down at her palms. How did she forget about them? Both hands were heavily scarred but apparently healed. She'd seen more than a few burns in her time and this was far from the early blistering stages she expected. She tried to direct her healing magic to the scars but they remained unchanged. She blinked, waited. Still nothing changed. She hadn't scarred since she was a teen. Since before She-Ra.
Adora closed her hands into fists and looked up again to find Evangeline watching her. "You didn't know this was going to happen?" Adora asked her.
"No, of course not. I wouldn't have gotten out my best silverware if I knew." She threw a pained expression towards the truly impressive amounts of smashed plates and cups littering the floor. "And if that doesn't convince you, you couldn't catch me dead in the same room if I knew she was coming."
"Bad relationship, then?"
Evangeline's jaw tensed. "You don't know the half of it."
"And I'm not sure I want to," Adora said. She looked over the ruined feast, thought of being dragged through that waking nightmare. Evangeline was right, there was nothing neither she nor Adora could've done to combat that…Goddess. Not a damn thing. "We're getting off this planet," Adora announced, surprising even herself.
Evangeline's expression shifted. The sarcasm and the slight playfulness that usually curled the edges of her mouth disappeared. "No need to be hasty now. I told you Eternia has Gods and Goddesses. They're just interested in the Lost Imperator. They meant you no harm."
"Bullshit she meant me no harm!" It came again, that swell of anger. Evangeline could speak until she was blue in the face but Adora would never believe that Goddess meant to do anything other than psychologically torture her.
"What? You think she was being mean because she doesn't want you to kill yourself? Wake the fuck up, Adora. You're not okay and it's so obvious to everyone." Every eye turned towards Adora. Even the servants stopped cleaning to look.
Without another word, Adora stepped from Catra's grip and walked out of the ballroom. Fuck Evangeline. Fuck this place. They were leaving. Tonight. Feeling more energized than ever, Adora strode back to her and Catra's room.
She threw open the door to the room, leaving a sizable gash in the drywall. Fuck it. Evangeline could bill her for the damage. Adora grabbed her suitcase and began throwing clothes in.
Behind her, the door clicked open again. If it was Evangeline, she had another thing coming. But the soft touch on her shoulder calmed rather than riled her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The hand moved from her shoulder, up her neck, and finally to her cheek. Adora stood perfectly still and then opened her eyes. A picture perfect view awaited. "Catra," she breathed.
Catra moved her thumb back and forth gently across her cheek. "Are you okay?"
Adora leaned into her touch. Amazing how Catra could extinguish her fury by simply existing. But under her fury churned a feeling she'd never cured. "You know I'm not."
"Tell me what's wrong. I'm here for everything. The good and the bad."
"I don't think we have time," Adora said, "I know I don't need to tell you twice but we've got to get back home." With that, Adora turned back to her suitcase and began packing once more.
"We have time for this."
"We can talk when we get back home."
With a small, quiet tone, Catra asked, "Why don't you want to talk to me?"
Feeling a headache coming on, Adora massaged her temples. "It's really not that. It's not about wanting. It's not about you."
"Okay," Catra said, inhaling deeply, "So what is it about?"
Where else to go? What story could she conjure up now? But there was nowhere left to hide.
She watched Catra for any signs. Did she know? But she searched for an answer that didn't exist. She didn't know. If she'd known, there wouldn't have been a war between them. If she'd known, she would've left with Adora. Maybe they would have reached the Whispering Woods and then Bright Moon. Maybe they would have died trying. But she did know this for sure: They would've left, together, the very same day that Adora told her.
She should've said something. The first time it happened. Or when Adora found the sword. Or when they were locked together in the Crystal Castle. Or at the Battle of Bright Moon. Or in the portal. Or—
"Where did you just go?" Catra murmured. She didn't reach out to touch Adora but she did move forward.
So Adora closed the gap between them and gathered Catra in her arms. Catra looked up at her, surprised but not displeased. Did she know what Adora was about to say?
Adora walked them back to a bench and gently pulled Catra down until they sat side-by-side; Adora looked anywhere else. At the moonlight streaming through the room's colored glass. At Catra's suitcase in the corner, a strangely organized heap of clothes. At her own feet, at her white dress shoes now tinged pink. She'd lost more blood than she realized.
"You're scaring me a little," Catra said while running a hand through Adora's disheveled hair. She probably looked nothing like She-Ra right now. She certainly didn't feel like She-Ra. If she'd only been She-Ra back when they were kids. If only…
"Catra," she croaked out. Speaking past the lump in her throat felt next to impossible. Painful even. "I have to tell you something."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Catra nod. Her wife's full attention was on her and there was no backing out.
"I…ummm…when we were kids, do you remember when Shadow Weaver used to take me out of training for private lessons?"
"Yes," Catra said, clearly confused.
"They weren't what you think." She closed her eyes, gripped Catra's hand tighter. "She did things to me."
A moment passed in silence. Finally, "What things?"
Once, she knew someone who could shape shift into a bird. She possessed no other magical ability, just that one animal, just that one trick. Don't you want other powers, Adora had asked. No, she had said, I come as I please and I leave when I need to. It took years for Adora to understand but she got it now.
"She touched me. Did these….inspections. It lasted until the very day I left, Catra. And it started when we were six."
Catra stared at her and stayed frozen. She looked like a statue. After a moment she blinked once, twice and then leaned her head into Adora's shoulder. She gripped Adora's shirt with both hands, her claws pricking her skin. Under her breathe, Catra whispered, "Fuck" in tones ranging from fury to shock. Adora's shoulder grew wet. She waited.
After some time, Adora wrapped an arm around her wife, trying her best to comfort. She'd been the victim, yes, but she'd had her whole life to face the truth, to process the pain. Catra had known for a maximum of five minutes. Still, some part of her wanted the reverse—to have Catra comforting her as she sobbed.
Suddenly, Catra leapt to her feet and kicked a nearby side table, sending it across the room and breaking into several pieces. Her tail lashed wildly and her hands balled into fists at her side.
Adora's heart leaped at the action, jolting her in a way that set her teeth on edge. She'd never gotten over this part—the way that someone else's anger pumped her body full of adrenaline. How the process happened without her consent. How her brain had been wired for chaos, how her body had never left the Fright Zone.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She knew the voice. It was Catra's. But it seemed so far away, in some other dimension, in some other life.
Time passed, how long she didn't know. But she slowly recognized the stone work of the ground, the clean scent of nighttime air, the light touch of her wife. Adora opened her eyes (when had she even closed them?) and found her face buried in her hands. Catra was kneeling in front of her and sort of enveloping her in her arms.
She hated this. Hated how her own body betrayed her. Hated how she cowered from Catra's righteous anger. She hated how, even years of therapy later, she so desperately wanted to be Catra's protector and couldn't quite stand the reverse.
"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. It's not you, it's me," Adora whispered, "I just…Everything sets me off these days. Like someone will set a plate down loudly and I suddenly forget how to breathe. I don't know what's wrong with me." Catra sat next to her and took both her hands in her own.
"You've been through a lot," Catra said gently, "Anyone would feel the same. I mean, between that Goddess and Shadow Weaver—." Catra shut her mouth with an audible snap. They stared at each other for a long second, waiting for the other to take the leap, say the words, drag the conversation back to a subject that just couldn't die.
Out of mercy more than anything else, Adora said, "I know what I told you is…is hard to hear. And I understand if you want to stop talking about it if you need some time to think."
"That's not my decision to make. I'll stop talking about it when you want to and not a moment before." Catra paused, then added, "Unless you want to stop talking about it right now."
"No…I don't know. It's all just…slipping out of my control. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say." She rubbed a hand across her tired eyes. A sudden thought, too quick to catch, blurted from her mouth,"Do you understand, now? I couldn't go back, Catra. I had to run. I should've taken you with me. I just…I had nothing left in me. But it was selfish and I'm sorry."
"Selfish?" Catra asked, "Spirits, Adora. This is so many things but it's certainly not you being selfish." She scrubbed at her eyes while her tail flicked. And then, "Why didn't you tell me?" Something passed across her wife's face before she added, "You don't have to tell me that. This isn't about me."
"I did want to tell you. All the time, every day." She pressed her forehead against Catra's and closed her eyes.
"I would have believed you," Catra whispered.
"I know, that's why I didn't tell you. You would've gotten yourself killed. I know how it would have played out. I would've told you and you would've dropped everything to go find her. And she would've killed you, probably sucked the air out of your lungs."
"You don't know that."
"I do." Adora brought a hand up and brushed the back of her knuckles against Catra's cheek.
"How?" A beat passed, then, "Did she tell you that?"
Adora swallowed. "In detail."
Catra gave a slight nod and pushed their faces together until their noses brushed each other. "I can't believe…Everything I did to you. On top of you dealing with that disgusting woman. I'm so sorry, Adora. You deserved better from the people that were supposed to love you. We failed you—I failed you."
"You didn't know."
"I should've realized. You were always there for me and I should've been there for you. I-I can't even begin to describe how sorry I am."
"But I wasn't there for you like I should've been," Adora said, "I let things slide too much. I didn't protect you like I should have. Like I could have."
"Adora," Catra said, pulling back. She looked at her a moment before placing her hands on either side of Adora's head, "Adora, none of this is your fault. None of it. You're not responsible for what she did. And you're not responsible for what I did. And you were there for me. Every day. And you know what? You're still there for me. Despite all this horrible shit, I know I can always rely on you."
"Thank you."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
Despite the moment, Adora couldn't help but smile. Catra knew her too well. "No, I don't. I just…I do feel responsible. If I could've just—"
"What could you have done?" Catra said gently, "You were just a kid."
"I—I don't know. I thought I could make her love me enough to stop. But I guess I was wrong about that." Catra looked at her a moment before fresh tears welled in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "I could've been better, you know. I could've been someone that deserves to be She-Ra….And I'm not that person."
"It kills me that you see yourself like this. You make yourself out to be a monster and you're anything but."
Adora looked away. What would her wife see if she looked too closely? "I have been, you know? You forget that. I was vicious as a kid. That has never left me. I feel it all the time. My first thought is always violence."
"And your second thought is who you actually are," Catra said, "Of course your first instinct is violence. How could it not? That was drilled into us since before we could speak. But you're not the indoctrination. You're not the hate that we came to know. You're better than that. Your actions don't reflect your first thought. Don't you think that's what matters?"
Adora nodded. Perhaps she'd rarely led with a fist. But still, it was always there. Some darker instinct, some awful pull. No matter what. It was never about getting even. She could do ten times the damage in a fraction of the time. That bloom of red in her chest never let her forget that. Neither did the haze of anger that always threatened to hijack her second thought and her third and her fourth and…
"I do try not to be that person," Adora conceded, "But I wish it was natural. I wish I didn't have to think about my every word or bite my tongue. I wish it was easy."
"Me too," Catra said, "But these are the hands we've been dealt and we do what we can."
"Ya."
After a moment, Catra asked, "How do you feel?"
Adora sucked a breath in. Was she going to lay it all out? Apparently so because her mouth started moving before she could think. "Like I want to die."
Fear contorted Catra's face into something she'd only seen at the Heart of Etheria. She stood up, wrapped her arms around herself, and paced. "Okay," Catra said, "Okay. How long have you been feeling this way?"
"Months, now. I don't know, maybe longer."
Catra stopped pacing and turned back to face her. She said nothing but Adora knew what she wanted to ask. "You want to know why I didn't tell you," Adora said. It wasn't a question. "I don't know really. I didn't want to disappoint you, I guess. I want you to be proud of me. And how are you going to be proud of me if—if I don't even want to be alive?"
Catra's mouth fell open and she stared, seemingly rendered speechless. Spirits, what did she think of Adora? Did she think she was weak? Could she believe she'd married someone like Adora? "And the kids. I thought you might think that I'm not a good mother or I'm just generally incapable of being a mom."
"Adora," Catra shook her head a bit, "You have this all wrong. I am so proud of you. And I'm even prouder of you for telling me how you feel. It's the strongest thing you've ever done."
Adora exhaled. "Wait, really?"
"Yes." Catra made her way back over to Adora and sat beside her. "Promise me that you won't hurt yourself." Catra held out her hand and with it a decision. She'd vowed that she'd never break another promise to Catra…but she was tired. And everyone had already gotten the best parts of her. They had her for forty-eight years now. Did they really need forty-nine?
Couldn't they see? She'd run her race, she'd fought the good fight. Why couldn't she be a little selfish now? Why couldn't they let her have this? Maybe it was selfish to leave but it was also selfish of them to make her stay.
"I'm so…replaceable."
Catra looked at her like she'd grown a second head before saying, "Your brain is lying to you. I could never, ever replace you with anything or anyone. No way. I wouldn't want to. I just want you. I want everything about you. But I know you can't see that right now. So I'm going to tell you. You are irreplaceable to the kids. They will always need their mother. Always. And Bow and Glimmer and Swift Wind and—everyone. You mean the world to us. No one could ever replace you."
Adora sighed. "You know what I mean. I'm the most replaceable person on Etheria, by definition. And the new She-Ra won't be so…so fucked up. I think that's what Etheria has been trying to tell me. It wants a newer version, a better version. It's been trying to get rid of me and I finally see why."
"If that's true, then fuck Etheria," Catra growled, "It can't have you. We can go somewhere else. There's a million planets out there."
"Ya."
"I can tell I'm losing you," Catra said, grabbing Adora's hand and interlacing their fingers, "I know how much you love Etheria. And for the record, I don't think it's trying to kill you. It has to be something else." Adora nodded, unconvinced.
A moment passed before Catra put a finger under her chin and lifted her head until they made eye contact. "You haven't promised me. You have to promise me, Adora."
"Catra…"
"—No. No Catra-ing me. You have to promise me. I need you, okay? I—I can't live without you."
"Yes, you can." Adora stood and walked towards a window. This time, Catra followed. "Everyone can. In fact, everyone might be better off for it."
"What? On what planet? On what plane of existence would anyone be better off?" Adora stopped and peered into the Eternian night. She had little left to say but Catra wouldn't let her off so easily; she grabbed Adora's jacket and turned her back around so they faced each other. Adora couldn't meet her eyes. "Your depression is lying to you. We wouldn't be better off without you. I mean, whoever that woman was just showed you that we would most definitely be worse off. That, I can promise you."
A little screech interrupted Adora's thoughts and she peered past Catra's shoulder to find the source. By the door stood an owl with a flat, white face and piercing eyes. "Are you seeing this?" Adora whispered.
"Seeing what?" Catra looked over her shoulder and moved her head around as if scanning the room.
"The owl."
"That what?"
Adora maneuvered around Catra and walked to the bird. It shrieked again when she was a few feet away before flying out the door. "Hey," Adora called, racing to the door and looking out to see where it flew.
At the door, a startled Nocturna almost ran into Adora and they looked at each other in amazement. "What are you doing here?" Adora asked.
Nocturna shook herself and flattened the front of her shirt. "Here," she said while holding out a scroll.
Adora took it and looked between the scroll and Nocturna. "What—?"
"It's a map. A weeks ride from here is another castle and it has a portal you can take back to Etheria. Just follow this map and you'll get there."
Adora unraveled the scroll and sure enough, a well made map awaited her. "Why are you telling me this?"
Nocturna's jaw tensed before she said, "I want you gone. Probably almost as much as you want to be gone. I don't particularly like you, to be perfectly honest. And you're distracting Evangeline. It's better for everyone if you leave."
"On that we can agree." Adora hesitated before adding, "Thanks, I guess."
A slight smile appeared on Nocturna's face before her expression once again slipped into neutrality. "You're welcome, I guess." With that, she turned and began to leave.
Should she even ask? She better. She might never get another opportunity to speak to Nocturna alone. "Wait," Adora said, causing the woman to pause. "I'm seeing this…owl. Any ideas why? I'm usually pretty sensitive to magic, but I can't sense anything about it."
Noturna turned her head slightly and said over her shoulder, "Adora, leave before you can't."
She watched her go before turning back to the room and Catra. "…What do you think she meant by that?"
"Let's not find out," Catra said, "Let's grab our stuff and find the others."
With a coordinated effort that could only happen after years of marriage, the two packed in record time. Adora changed from her ruined uniform into a more practical outfit of boots, a black tunic, and breeches. They walked to the door and Catra grabbed her hand. "Adora, promise me."
"You're really not gonna let this go, are you?" Adora said, grinning. Catra didn't smile back. She was all business–eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. Adora sighed. "What do you think your life would've been like if we never met? If I were on Eternia and you were on Etheria?"
Catra blinked and admitted, "I don't know. I've never really thought about it. It's so hard for me to imagine that."
"Do you think it would've been better? Do you think you'd be happier?"
"What? No. Of course not. I can't imagine my life without you. What's that stupid, cheesy, bullshit you always say? That we're like night and day. The push to my pull."
Adora laughed. "Yes, that's it."
Catra smiled and put her bags down before taking Adora's hands in hers. "But what do you think? Would your life be different if you'd stayed here?"
"It's the same story everywhere I go. The details are different but it all ends the same. So I take Evangeline's place and become the Imperator. There's no Shadow Weaver, but there are always people like her. Whatever happened, whatever timeline, I'm always used and abused. I don't believe in destiny, Catra, but this one was always going to be mine.
Adora sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is this—there was never a peaceful childhood in the cards for me. So let's forget about that. What really worries me is the collateral damage I caused. It could've been so different for you. No war. No Shadow Weaver singling you out. No heartache."
"Ya and then what? I would've risen through the Horde's ranks and ruled Etheria with an iron fist. That's the worst fate imaginable. I would've been a monster. I mean, listen, you know I love Bow and Glimmer but I would've crushed them without you."
"I seem to remember you almost crushing them with me there."
"Exactly my point. I would've been the version of me that I hate the most. I wouldn't have had friends or family or love or respect. I would've ruled through fear and people would've rejoiced at my funeral." Unable to stop herself, Adora winced at the thought. "You make me the best version of myself. And not just because you're She-Ra or the Lord Commander or any of that. But because you inspire me to be a better person. So no, I wouldn't be better off if you were stuck on this cursed fucking planet."
Adora looked down at their hands, at her wedding ring. "That means so much to me."
"And it means a lot to me that you promise," Catra said.
"I promise." Seemingly satisfied, Catra reached up and pulled Adora down into a soft kiss. She could feel that Catra wanted it to linger just as much as she did. But time was ticking away, time that could be used to escape back to Etheria. They pulled away from each other and she knew Catra longed for the same thing.
"Let's go find the others," Catra said while bending down to pick her bags back up.
"Lead the way."
When they entered Bow and Glimmer's room, the royal pair leapt to their feet while Brick and Sunny stopped pacing. "Adora," Glimmer started, "I know this is your birthplace and there's a lot of high emotions tied to it, but can we please get the fuck off this planet?"
"I want nothing more."
Glimmer deflated with relief and Bow blew out a long breath. "Thank the Spirits," he said, "I was worried that you'd…well, never mind. The next question is how do we leave? I'm no Entrapta, but even I know interdimensional travel isn't the easiest thing to pull off."
"Here's the thing, I know how to get back to Eternia." Seeing her friends' eyes widen, Adora quickly continued, "Nocturna gave me a map to a castle that has a portal that'll bring us back."
"Like the portal King Elric almost didn't come through?" Brick asked.
"I know it seems risky, and it probably is, but does anyone else have a better idea?" Her friends exchanged looks but no one said a word. "Alright then, let's go. We can get everyone else on our way out."
"But how do we get out of this place? It's like a maze in here," Sunny said, "I haven't been able to make heads nor tails of how to get out of here."
"Now there's a thought…" How did she miss this? In all her time on Eternia, she'd never once thought about the castle's layout or its exits. She'd been too busy, too distracted, too everything to realize the castle made no sense. Like the Whispering Woods.
"Does anyone have an idea?" Catra asked, "I've been trying to map it but…I think it's shifting. Just like the Whispering Woods." Adora looked at her wife, enjoying for a slight moment how in-tune they were.
"And that went so well last time."
"Brick!" Glimmer chastised.
"What? Like I'm wrong?"
Movement out of the corner of Adora's eye caught her attention and she turned from the developing argument to find an owl just right outside the door. It stayed silent and stared. Was this their way out?
"Guys," Adora said, rousing the interest of exactly nobody. More forcefully, she said, "Guys. I think I have it."
"Have what?" Brick asked, "The audacity to interrupt mother?" The look Glimmer threw at him would've frightened even the most hardened knight.
"No, not that. I think I know how to get out of here." The room went silent. "That owl. I think it's trying to lead us out of here."
"What owl?" Brick asked, "Are you sure you haven't been hit in the head one too many times?"
"Oh, I absolutely have," Adora said, "But this…This is different. I know when something calls." The bird stretched up and flapped its wings, almost impatiently. "Are we all ready? It wants to go now."
"Good enough," Bow said, "We can replace what we leave behind but we can't replace any of us. We can grab everyone else on our way out."
"Let's go then." Adora picked up her bag and stepped into the hallway. The owl took flight and disappeared around a corner. "Come on, this way!" She charged after the animal and looked behind her shoulder to make sure the others followed; they did.
They ran through halls, through rooms, through great dining halls and they ran into no guards, no cooks, no anyone. The lamps were lit but the people were gone. Every place they went into had the same recently abandoned look. A still steaming meal in one room, laundry half done in another.
One after another, in quick succession, they stopped at every ambassadors', guards', and officials' rooms they'd first come to Eternia with. It didn't make any sense and it was completely impossible by all logical reasoning. These rooms had been scattered throughout the castle, but now they waited in an almost perfect line.
The Whispering Woods made sense to Adora: it was undoubtedly alive. But this castle and its shifting ways lifted the hair on the back of her neck. What was it exactly? A sleeping God? Something alive and very much scheming? Or was an outside force pulling at invisible strings and rearranging the layout as it saw fit? It could've been any of those things; it could've been none. But Adora didn't have time to think about it, her responsibility was to keep everyone safe and get them back to Etheria. She led everyone after the magnificent owl. Eventually, the animal flew into a room, disappeared.
Adora stopped and a panting Brick almost collided into her back. The others, in various states of respiratory failure, lumbered into a sad semi-circle around Adora.
"No…guards," Bow managed to get out.
"No. And they'd surely be here. There's no way that Evangeline would let the castle be this empty."
"What do you think it is?"
Adora shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know this world."
"Let's keep it that way," Catra said, still breathing heavily.
Adora nodded and then looked towards the door the owl disappeared through. "This is where it flew. This must be it," Adora whispered before turning the door's knob and cracking it open. She peered through the small opening, seeing a vast room filled with…cages? She swung the door open, curiosity overriding any cautiousness. A wall of almost unbearable stench slammed into her, causing her eyes to water.
"Hey!" A uniformed woman yelled. She clambered to her feet and reached for the sword on her waist. Before she could grab it, Adora slammed her fist across the other woman's face. Knocked from her feet, she flew backwards and smacked into a wall before falling into a heap on the floor. She didn't move.
Adora knew the power in her punch, how it could shatter bones, how it could kill. This woman likely had minutes to live. Adora knelt beside her and placed a hand on her back. She summoned her healing magic and poured its ichor into the dying guard. Not enough to fully revive her back this very instant but she'd wake up in a few hours and live to fight another day.
"Fuck me," Glimmer said behind her.
"What?" Adora stood and turned around only to find her friends staring at something. She followed their gaze and the breath caught in her throat.
Cages and cells lined the room. In the smallest cages along the wall, rats with four eyes and two tails bounced around and squealed. They'd been here for months, at least. They scrambled around in their own filth. Other, larger cages, held other animals and beasts. A once great owl, close to the center of the room, had broken feathers sticking out from its chest and back. The top piece of its beak had broken off and it stared at them without a sound. She wanted to feel pity for the beast but it carried itself with such dignity that she could only conjure respect.
She dragged her eyes to the center of the room, to a naked man tethered to the floor and ceiling by black chains bound around his ankles and hands. She could see practically every bone in his emaciated body. His skin was milk white, seemingly translucent in some places. She stepped forward to take a better look. Perhaps it was a mannequin. But he inhaled, dashing any hope that this poor person hadn't lived through…whatever happened to him.
Wounds, some seeping blood and yellow pus and some just an angry red, criss crossed his body. His yellow eyes stared from his sunken face.
"I'm going to get you out of here," Adora said, stepping forward. Then she sensed something she should've felt the moment they walked into the room—black magic. Where did it come from? She looked at him closer. His black tethers, of course. A holding spell… and of poor quality. She might've cast the spell for these sloppy bindings when she'd first delved into black magic but she couldn't imagine anyone more advanced than an amateur making these. And usually with holding spells, the Consumption Spell was also present. She looked around and saw it. On the ground, under the man's feet, laid a blue, painted star with words written in the old tongue painted around its interior. Sure enough it was the Consumption Spell, but the work was shoddy at best. The words weren't written with the precise strokes required to attain the spell's full power. One word was even misspelled. This spell was supposed to take someone's magic away for good. To shatter their connection with magic. It was a cruel spell, meant only as a last resort.
The sloppiness of the Consumption Spell probably meant that this man retained at least some magical prowess, although she couldn't tell how much. In fact, she couldn't sense much at all about him. He panted a bit, watched her with those intelligent yellow eyes. Eyes she'd seen before on Sadir.
"You're a God, then." Adora said. Silence. Panting. "Well, whoever you are, you can't live like this. None of you can," she announced to the rest of the room. The owl turned its head towards her.
"Adora," Catra hissed from behind her.
Adora retreated towards her friends. "What's wrong?"
Catra glanced around the room then finally back to Adora. "Don't you think they might be trapped for a reason? If he's a God, what is he the God of, exactly?"
"Does it matter? He can't live like this. In his own fifth? Starving? We can't leave him like this."
"I don't know about this…"
Adora turned back around and thought back to the past. Once upon a time, she could break some of the most unbreakable black magic. She could unspool most of the torturing spells and all of the truth serums. She could surely snap these amateurish holding spells.
It'd been years now since she'd had to access black magic. Truth be told, she could've lived her whole life without reaching out to those powers and that part of herself. But black magic couldn't be reversed with light, with hope, with love. It's yawning mouth knew only one master and it was hate, the true power source of all black magic. In her prime, no one could wield it like she could. No one had the innate talent, the innate connection to this dark source. And now, no one else carried the same corruption.
A price was paid, something was taken, with every spell cast through black magic. Other magic didn't take, didn't demand. And it didn't feed off hate either. Which made these other sources weaker but lighter.
She didn't need much to break these. So she closed her eyes and reached for a memory that could conjure the right feelings. She found one and the feeding began.
During the war, when Double Trouble admitted to being an agent for the Horde, Adora had wanted to snap their neck. The fall of Salineas. The loss of Angella. She blamed it on those and the stress. She blamed it on Horde conditioning. As soon as the thought came, she pushed it away. But it had been there—the hate. Now, years later, she felt the same pull of violence, the same power. She pulled at that, let that momentary feeling fill her up. Then came the actual spell. She knew it, not well, but she knew it.
In the old tongue, older than the First Ones, she began reciting the basic breaking spell. It came easily and it fed so hungrily. But it was a light spell, as light as black magic could be, and she kept it at bay. It took little.
She concentrated on the black bonds tethering the man. Under her spell, the bonds turned bright red and one flickered. Apparently, that was all he needed.
The scene shattered around Adora as people and cages and creatures slammed into each other and the walls. Something, someone, shrieked. The innate power that danced along Adora's fingertips at all times ripped away from her, commanded by someone else. In the chaos, she'd wrapped around Catra and Glimmer as they'd tumbled backwards in a mass. On her hands and knees, she dragged herself over them. Her wife and her Queen. She'd die before anything happened to either of them.
A great, blinding light emanated from the center of the room. Adora turned away from the source only to find Evangeline at the doorway. She ran a hand through her black hair, causing it to pull from her bun in long strands. Adora stared for a second—she'd never seen Evangeline look so frazzled.
Castle guards pushed past the Queen with their guns and swords raised. "Wait—no!" Adora yelled. The awful power being pulled into the room couldn't be defeated by steel. These poor fucking people, they didn't understand.
The brilliant light suddenly went out, casting the entire room in darkness. "Attack!" Someone shouted.
"Wait, wait!" Adora called again. She staggered to her feet and watched the outline of a man appear as a dim light turned on. His arms went up and a large, churning, black mass appeared near some of the guards.
"Adora," someone whispered in one ear. "Take care of each other." Another whispered in her other ear. Fuck. Not this. Black magic did this—unraveled people so quickly in so many ways. She'd seen it herself, she'd done it herself. It always started like this. It began with memories that drew strong emotions. It needed them to satiate its hunger.
Gunfire erupted from the guards for a brief moment before a dark tendril from the black mass shot out and grabbed a guard. A guttural scream came from the guard as they were dragged towards the mass. The screams changed from fear to pain to silence. Their legs went in first and came out the other side as a bloody pulp, much like she imagined a wood chipper would do. It took seconds for the guard to turn into a bloody stain on the floor. Another guard got pulled in and another voice whispered, "Let's be honest, all of this is your fault."
"Evangeline, do something!" Adora called. This was her fucking castle, surely she knew about this man and had some plan in place in case of catastrophe.
The Queen looked over at her but stood perfectly still, like she couldn't quite believe what she saw. She waited to see if something would change, if the Queen would leap into action. But nothing. Fucking useless.
Adora couldn't wait for help that wasn't coming. They needed to shut this thing down. But how? This thing, this mass, came from a consumption spell that she'd broken many, many years ago. But what was the breaking spell?
The first, and only time, she'd broken this black magic spell was fifteen—twenty years ago when she hunted Jorah. In a dark forest, she'd tracked the young, mad sorcerer for days. Alone. And that misty forest wouldn't yield any of its secrets. She'd stumbled upon a similar black mass hours past sunset. She'd never figured out if it waited for her or was simply hunting. What was the spell?
Another guard disappeared into the starving maw and another began getting dragged towards the mass. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Adora yelled at Evangeline, "You're fucking around with things you don't understand and can't control!" Fuck, what was that spell?
In that forest, it had been worse. She'd been its only target and it hadn't eaten for days, weeks even. It came at her fast and hard in the night. The whispers began, as they always did, then it was on her. Not even the Sword of Power could kill it.
But at that point, she'd been studying black magic for a while. She'd let it in and walked on the darker side of worlds. It was an infection that you could control but never be entirely inoculated from. She felt that every day—that sliver of corruption in her typically steady heart. You paid for power with your soul. But what was the spell she'd used?
Back then, she accessed her black magic quickly and commanded it with full authority. She was willing to lose a piece of her soul, it was willing to do her bidding. With that transaction complete, her spell had blown the dark mass into several pieces before sucking it up into what she assumed was another dimension, though she didn't know for sure where it went. After, she'd wasted a half day resting and she tracked slower than she wanted for a week after that.
"I told you not to fuck around with black magic!" Adora yelled at Evangeline. If she could leverage how mad she was at Evangeline, she could conjure this spell. If she could let anger curdle into hate, she'd be able to master it.
And so she let the feeling grow. First, it began in her belly. Then she—"If you hadn't gotten the sword and been the world's worst She-Ra."
"Fuck." Adora shook her head. These damn whispers. They'd throw her off if they could. So she couldn't let them. She needed to focus. And she needed the one person she ever hated. She needed the years that were stolen. She needed the childhood she never had. She needed combat boots and blood. She needed all the times she was never rescued. And all the people that had let her down.
Her girlhood anger turned inside out. It was the kind of rage that lasted for generations. It was Shadow Weaver. Worse, it was Etheria. The planet that loved her with conditional terms. The planet that never saved her.
The first part of the spell came to her. The ancient words took so much, left so little. The veins in her arms turned black and crept higher still. The awful truth was this: black magic loved her. It loved her temper and the hate she'd never outgrow. It fed on her worst thoughts and most violent impulses. She'd never met anyone that could wield it quite like herself.
It wanted her back in the Horde, back in those dimly lit hallways. When she was there, she was at her most unstable. She careened from thought to thought. Why didn't anyone love her? Worse, why was love so perverse? Why her? Out of everyone, what had Shadow Weaver seen in her? Some sort of vulnerability? She'd been right, of course. Adora wouldn't tell anyone, didn't tell anyone. She was the perfect victim. So eager to please, so eager to succeed. She would've done anything Shadow Weaver asked. And she had asked for so much. And demanded even more.
And it all worked out so well for her, hadn't it? She'd gotten away with everything. She would never stand at trial, never truly apologize, never rot in prison. And when she'd died, she'd gone out like a hero—on her feet, fighting. "You're welcome."
Everything in Adora burned, from her feet to her head. She wanted the world to end. She wanted her pain to end. How quickly these wants dissolved into the hate she needed. How quickly she accessed the sort of power she so often rejected. Perhaps she should consider it a sort of revelation. Perhaps she should dig in further. Whoever this God was, she could vaporize him in a moment. Evangeline, too.
The spell got everything it wanted—all the hate and power it could ever want. It fed on her like it starved, like it needed nothing else in this world but her. And she still had more. It wanted all her hate, but she could never run out. She drank from a bottomless well.
The final part of the spell came to her—the words so crystal clear. It was like no time between now and Jorah had passed at all. Her ancient training came back, her dark rituals so easily remembered. And she spoke the spell into existence, spoke the hate into the world.
Behind the dark mass, a red light flickered on. The hue was not blood red but a sunset hue, strangely beautiful. At once the chaos paused. The mass stopped eating one of the guards and dropped her onto the ground, armless. A silent standoff began between the two competing forces: the hungry mass and Adora's hate. But neutrality never lasted.
The black mass began pulsating and quivering while flashing red and blue and green. The room's lights flickered with the dying mass. It sputtered and spewed up blood and bone and organ. Someone sobbed. The beautiful red light did nothing but keep shining and drinking Adora down. She gave it whatever it needed, whatever it wanted.
The mass stopped moving before getting sucked up into a small circle that would presumably transport it to some other time and place. The circle of darkness lunged and jumped in place like an animal caught in a trap. But there was no cure for this, no winning move. Adora's spell was made to break other black magic spells. And break it did. With a crack and a shutter, the mass disappeared with a pop.
Adora fell backwards, unable to command her body in any way. She willed her hand to raise, but nothing happened. Really, she should've been frightened. But she wanted something more. She wanted to be consumed entirely, she wanted nothing left. And the thing about black magic was this: it was happy to oblige.
She could've turned the tap off now. Could've sent the black magic back to its realm. But she let it burrow in her bones and hollow her out. The years she was supposed to live sloughed off her like burned and ruined skin. And the magic kept eating and she kept letting it.
Someone grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her from the room she wanted as her tomb. Animals screeched and people yelled and Adora just wanted to die. But these hands wouldn't let her.