Chapter Text
“Hey princess.” Her blonde pony-tail swings back and forth as if blown by an invisible wind.
“You looking at me?” She turns, eyebrows scrunched, and teeth bared at her enemy: a purple monster tacked to the worn leathery sides of the punching bag. When her roundhouse kick makes contact, the chains holding the bag in place creak. The bag nearly folds in half from the force of it. As it swings back toward her for a counter attack, she stands her ground. It stops short.
Then the PA sounds, “All squadrons report to the training area immediately for evaluation.”
From around the corner of the ugly green lockers, I see a smile spread across her face, lighting up her soft features and wide eyes. That stupid puff of hair flops around on top of her huge head and out the locker room door. Her hair is so soft. And sweet. Like… like… I don’t know. Something sweet. The scent lingers around the room. Mmmhhh.
Adora.
I wander over to my locker, remove a clean shirt, and fresh wrappings for my feet. Once upon a time my shirt was identical to the other Horde uniforms. Man, was Shadow Weaver upset when I dyed them. And changed the necklines. And got rid of the sleeves. Oh, and my pants. Ripped the knees on those. They were so tight which no one else seemed to notice and got in the way during training. Big deal that they’re ripped. I can actually move in them.
The halls are unusually empty with the senior cadets at evaluation, yet still as loud as ever. An electrical hum vibrates through the floor and walls. As I stalk towards the arena, I try to ignore the overwhelming gurgle of water through the tangle of pipes along the ceiling. At each intersection, I stop to listen then avoid the halls with the tell tale clicking of patrol armor. Three turns away, Commander Cobalt’s deep voice echoes faintly into my ears.
“-Catra?”
“She will be here, I promise.” Adora assures him. I smirk and pause in one of the many deep shadows to listen.
“Mm-hmm,” Cobalt grunts. “The Whispering Woods is full of princesses. Vicious, violent instigators. They will take you out if given the chance. Don’t give it to them. Good luck, recruits.”
Well isn’t that funny? It’s not like any of us were given a choice. I roll my eyes.
The padding of my feet down the hall is nearly silent, especially when covered by the constant noise. Even so, as I round the final corner shrouded in shadow Cobalt calls me out.
“You’re late, Catra.”
Pew!
Pew!
“Watch out!” Adora’s shouts echo from the wide open bay door. Between the artificial trees, my teams’ backs are just visible. The bots fire stunning rays at them. Occasionally one will make it through the nearly unsurpassable tangle, dissipating as it hits the invisible barrier separating us from them.
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no!” Kyle cries as they flee from the entrance.
“And I’ll still make it to the end before them.” I drawl. The Commander, like all authority, appears unamused.
“Here's your scenario. You'll pass through-” He starts reciting, but I hold up a hand.
“Yeah, yeah yeah, Whispering Woods, princesses are evil, they’ll try to kill me if I don’t kill them, our goal is the queen. I got it. Can I go in now?” Cobalt eyes me up and down from my crossed arms to my impatient tapping foot.
Finally he sighs, “go. Don’t forget your-”
With a wicked grin I jog past the Commander, picking up speed as I pass through the barrier and into the arena’s “trees.” Once I’ve reached a full sprint I leap onto the first layer of “branches”, then quickly to the top. There’s an explosion ahead, a bot goes up in flames.
Far below, Adora motions her team forward with a wave of her arm, “Come on, this way!” A growl slips from my throat. She’s always so serious in the heat of battle
I leap again from my perch following Adora, Kyle, Lonnie, and Rojelio across the arena. Up this high nothing bothers me. I watch Kyle get stunned from the safety of the treetops (whatever idiot made the bots didn’t program them to scan up). The team crowds around him only to be chased off by a mob of bots. I follow them. Adora bursts from the forest first into a half moon shaped clearing with a hexagonal floor. Just like the blaster fire stopping dead at the hangar, the shots end at the edge of the final tree.
“Adora!” Lonnie calls like the good little lap dog she is. Adora hears just in time for her to jump out of the way as the hexagon she’s standing on turns red and drops into an abyss below. I watch a massive bot rise from a hole in the clearing’s center a safe distance away high in the tree line. Lonnie and Rojelio stand frozen just beneath me, eyeing their foe, until a ray shoots directly between them and they scatter. Adora dodges with an easy turn of her body. Of course, she charges, releasing her staff from its compact state magnetized to her belt.
Bang!
Crash!
I grin despite myself and jump to the ground finally revealing my location. It doesn’t stand a chance
Boom!
An explosion throws her to the floor with a yell several meters away from the flaming bot. So dramatic. Without looking at her, I sense Adora slowly sit up. An adorable dazed expression clouds her face. It’s a struggle not to laugh while strutting past her to the wreckage that was the bot. It’s utterly destroyed, nothing left besides four insect-like legs and shards of glass and metal. I give one of the legs a little kick and the bot falls back to the pit from whence it came. In the second before hexagon she lays on turns red Adora’s face shifts from confused to enraged. Her mouth opens as if to say something, but I cut her off by pointing down. She finally notices the bloody glow. Adora screams as she falls. Like I said, dramatic. I lean over the edge of the hole.
My voice turns husky as I greet her, “Hey Adora. How’s it hanging?” She dangles from her staff, elongated to fit the hole’s width, leerings at me with baby blue eyes tinged green from the training glasses.
“Catra.” Adora groans, “Did you really show up late and let us do all the hard parts? That is low, even for you.” I cross my arms and let my grin turn wicked.
“Aw. You know nothing's too low for me.” A sharp chuckle creeps from the top of my throat. “Now come on, you look stupid hanging down there.” I extend my arm. After a roll of her eyes she reaches up and takes it, her warm flesh pressing into mine as I pull her up. A similar feeling coils in my stomach.
“Training exercise successfully completed.” The PA lady drones.
“You should file your nails. One of these days you’re going to slice me open.” Adora jokes.
“Psh. Relax. You have your stick and your guns and your gadgets, let me have my nails.” I wave them in front of her. Teasing. Like always, she bats them away.
“Whatever.”
“Nice one Adora!” Lonnie shouts. Her footsteps merge with Kyle’s limp and Rojelio’s stomping into a rolling thunder across the deactivated hexagonal floor. My ears flick back and I scowl, dropping a step back so they can reach their leader.
“Thanks!”
“Yeah, that… that was awesome!” Kyle stammers.
“Oh shut up Kyle, you were spasming in the woods.” The words are out of my mouth before my brain catches up.
Lonnie steps in front of him, hands crossed over her chest. “And where were you, Catra? Nice of you to finally drop in. I don’t want extra latrine duty because of you, again.” I drop into a lowered stance opposite my rising hair.
“Knock it off you guys. This is a victory. We should be celebrating!” Adora placates, moving between us. “Let’s go back to the locker room. I think I have an extra ration bar or two saved, the gray kind.” Over Adora’s shoulder I stare Lonnie down, a low growl forming in my throat, but her brown eyes never waver.
“Fine.” My tail flicks as I start back into the trees.
“Catra, wait!” Adora calls after me. So freaking oblivious.
Despite my efforts to hold onto the anger, it’s dissipated by the time I reach the locker room. Exhaustion takes its place. I lean against a row of lockers and sigh. The swishing of my tail slows from a consistent swing to an occasional flick. Between the pipes gurgling and the wires humming and the footsteps of cadets returning to their locker rooms I can’t hear Adora. Nor Kyle, Lonnie, or Rogelio. I’m all alone. There’s nothing to do but wait. Always waiting.
Nearly twenty minutes pass before the thud thud thud of familiar boot falls becomes audible outside. Hastily I stand, ripping the messy braid I’d been working on from my dark hair, thick and tangled as I face my already open locker. Adora marches in with a wide smile on her face.
“Hey, there you are!” She exclaims as she sees me rooting through my locker. “We ended up heading to the mess after running into another group. You should’ve come, there were extra rations. I grabbed you one.”
She tosses it to me which I snatch easily out of the air.
I stash it in my locker and ask, “What happened to the disaster trio?” Adora’s eye roll couldn’t be any more obvious. From the corner of my eye I watch her wander over to the sinks and begin washing her face and hands.
“They went to The Pit for some cardio.” Through the running water I can hardly hear her.
“I guess they’d need it after that poor performance today. Especially Kyle. He was down within the first minutes. It’s getting pathetic really.”
“Leave him alone Catra, he’s trying.” The faucet squeaks off under Adora’s hand and she dried her face.
“We’re all trying. He’s failing.”
“Give him a break.” At the sharpness in her tone I raise my hands in surrender.
“Alright, alright just being honest here. I don’t get why you put up with him. You could have any cadet you want on your team and you deal with Kyle .” I shut my locker door and lean against it, watching my friend finally approach. “You did pretty well today.”
“You think?” She unlocks her locker next door and clicks off her belt.
“Definitely! You had that bot in the bag.”
“You could’ve warned me about the floor though.”
A hearty laugh knots in my stomach So I nearly double over. I can’t tell if it’s fake or real.
“You should’ve seen your face! You were like ‘Aah, no! Betrayal!’” I mock along with a dramatic rendition of her falling into the hole concluding with me collapsing face down at her feet. My tail swishes again.
Adora scoffs. Her locker shuts with a thunk , “Come on, Catra. We're senior cadets now. I can't believe you're still pulling such childish, immature— Is that a mouse?!”
Like a bolt of lightning zapping through my skin, every strand of hair puffed. I’m on my feet in an instant.
“What?! Where?!” I whip my eyes in the direction she points but there's nothing there. She doubles over, clutching her stomach as she snickers. God, Adora.
“Are you ever going to not fall for that?” She asks between waves of laughter.
“I don't know. Are you ever going to let it go?” I face her, arms crossed and eyes rolling. “That was one time.”
“I know, but for some reason it's always funny.”
“Adora.” Shadow Weaver’s voice booms from every corner of the room before she enters. A bone rattling chill follows. Adora snaps to attention, tension strung in every muscle. My own stomach plummets to my toes. Fighting the innate urge to straighten my spine and pin my feet shoulder width apart to the floor, I lean back against the lockers. Adora’s here. She won't hurt me if Adora is here. Everything is going to be fine. She won’t hurt Adora. I take a deep breath as Shadow Weaver materializes from the shadows. Her curved, red mask hides all expression on her face. There’s no way to tell if she’s angry, proud, tired, or feeling more sadistic than usual. A flowing red robe covers her from neck to toe so there’s no tensing to see. She floats so no footsteps to judge her mood by. Blank.
“Shadow Weaver.” Adora steps forward. I kick off the lockers as well so I’m just behind.
“You have done well. You've completed your training course in record time.” At least her tone seems pleased.
“Uh, well, that wasn't just me.” Adora cracks a grin and hooks an arm around my shoulders. “You know, Catra did too,”
Shadow Weaver drawls in response, “Ah, yes. How someone as unmotivated as you completed the course in that time, I'll never know.” It only stings a little bit.
“Always serving up those pep talks, huh, Shadow Weaver?” I joke.
“Silence!” Adora and I jump at the sudden change in our commander’s tone. The ink-like hair floating from her head begins spreading, choking out the light in the room.
The hair, now completely made of shadows, inches towards my face, “Do not be flippant with me, cadet.” Where it touches my skin it burns. Not the burn of an open flame, but of icy water. It takes everything in me not to wince. From the corner of my eye I see Adora’s panicked face.
“Sorry, Shadow Weaver.” I begrudgingly snarl. The tentacles recede instantly.
“Adora, walk with me.” She motions with a finger, voice even like nothing happened. Adora moves to follow before remembering me. She looks back. Our eyes meet for a split second, enough time for a conversation to pass between us.
Are you okay? Her eyes soften and brows fall.
Yeah, fine. I shrug.
Sure? A little smile forms on her lips.
Yes, go. I cross my arms, close my eyes, and take a deep steadying breath. When I open them Adora’s already running after Shadow Weaver leaving me all alone. Again.
Now that she’s gone, heat finally starts to creep back into the room. My knees turn to gel. They shake slow at first as I stand frozen in place trying to breathe. Then they wobble more out of control. And I’m falling. I hit the floor hard. Precious air is knocked from my lungs. I shake. No, the world shakes.
She didn’t hurt me.
She didn’t hurt Adora.
Everything is okay.
I know it’s a lie, but sometimes it’s better than the truth.
***
An hour or so later I cleaned up, put my face back on, and got some food. On my way back from the mess, I focus on keeping my steps even, calm. My attention is so complete that I almost don’t catch Adora out of the corner of my eye. Ten feet below she stands on a platform overlooking the Fright Zone (terrible name for a city, I know). Through the compound’s tinted windows I can’t tell what she cups in her hands. Something small. Taking off at a sprint, I round a corner, dash through a door onto another outdoor platform. Without missing a beat I launch over the edge onto a pipe. I drop onto all fours, hopping between the thick pipes like they’re “branches” from training. Adora comes into view just as she straightens, a satisfied expression on her face. Then I leap into nothingness. For a moment the only thing touching me is air before I slam into Adora’s chest.
She cries out at the same time I ask, “What'd she say? Hey, what's this?” I snatch a shield shaped pin from her jacket and spring away again before she can grab me.
“Hey! Give it back.” My friend whines. Landing gracefully on a pipe I examine the pin. Etched onto its gold surface are a pair of emerald green bat wings. Suddenly I realize what I’m looking at. My eyes widen.
“No way! You’ve been promoted?” Something like hope slips into my heart for the first time in a long time. It starts pounding.
Adora looks away, “Well, kind of. I mean, yeah, I guess. Heh. But it's not a big deal.” I jump down again, landing in front of her this time. A wild grin hurts my cheeks.
Pulling her close by her shoulders I shriek, “Are you kidding? That is awesome. We're gonna see the world and conquer it. Adora, I need to blow something up.” My voice gets higher with every word. Even a rare purr vibrates my chest and throat.
“Um…” She raises a guilty eyebrow, but my face falls. The thudding of my heart increases.
“What?”
Adora’s gaze drops to the ground, “Shadow Weaver says you’re not coming.”
“What?!” No. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Hair all over my body stands straight up. Ears go back, heart beats filling them harder than ever. Fanged teeth clash together.
“My time was just as good as yours today! What is her problem with me?” I hop onto the platform railing, back to Adora.
“I mean, you are kind of disrespectful.” She mutters.
Whirling back on her, “Why should I respect her?” I begin to pace.
“She's just bitter that she doesn't have any real power that doesn't come from Hordak and everyone knows it.” I lean in close, “I guess it sure must be easy being a people pleaser like you.” Adora’s mouth gapes at the accusation.
“I am not a pe—” Forget this. Not even settled, I jump away toward a scouting platform.
“Catra, wait!”
Obviously I don’t wait.
She can’t do this! The impact of metal jars my bones as I land. It does nothing to ground me. Shadow Weaver ruins everything! My knees start to shake like before forcing me to sit before I collapse. I perch on a broken railing. And I scream at the smog covered skyline laid out ahead.
When my throat is hoarse and I’m teetering on the edge, I look down. There’s nothing for hundreds of feet. If something fell from here it’d take a few seconds to hit the next closest platform. Far below, cadets and soldiers alike scurry to and fro like ants. If something fell from here it would probably take one or two of them out. But they’d probably hear something large coming down and move. Would they be surprised if I fell? Probably not. Others have “fallen” before. My grip loosens on the railing. Falling would be so easy…
Adora could be down there.
Suddenly I realize how little of my body is left on the ledge. I throw myself backwards onto the safety of the platform, panting. Then I slam my fist down hard; the one still clenched tight around Adora’s new badge. The metal bites hard into my flesh, but I welcome it. Is this day ever going to end? A heavy sigh escapes my lips, easing once again my racing heart.
Eventually I gather the strength to return to the railing. This time, my tail curls around the cylindrical metal like a safety harness. Through the smog, one of the many moons, evening red, finally dips below the horizon.
Ting.
Metal hits metal to my back. Then quiet footsteps approach as easily recognizable as always. They stop just behind me and I hold my breath, waiting for the lecture.
“Look, I'm sorry. I didn't even think you wanted to be a Force Captain.” Adora apologizes.
“I don’t.” I lie. “Here, take your stupid badge.” And I toss the pin backwards. Without it my hand feels too empty. She comes to stand next to me, but I just turn further away. Still out of the corner of my eye I see her fiddling with the badge.
“Come on, Catra. This is what I have been working for my entire life. I was hoping you could be, I don't know, happy for me.” My throat tightens at her words.
“Ugh, whatever. It's not like I even care. I just wanna get out of this dump at some point before I die of boredom.” Laying back, the groove of my spine fits perfectly along the railing. Only staying down for a second, I prop myself up and gaze out at the horizon again. “I wonder what's even outside the Fright Zone anyway.”
“Why don't we go find out?” She slides a key from her pocket. It has overly complex contours along its edge considering that nothing in the Fright Zone uses physical keys. A signal emitting gem is inlaid into its head. I raise my brows, cocking my head to the side; a mischievous grin lights up Adora’s face.
She leads me, dodging patrols, to the far side of the compound. Every time I ask where we’re going, I’m shushed with a dramatic hand gesture. At last I realize where she’s taking me. The hangar, its doors wide open and patrols marching around inside, looms above as we round a corner. My stomach somersaults.
“Adora!” I hiss under my breath, “I was only joking when I said ‘lets steal a skiff.’ You know that, right?” She stops so suddenly I almost run into her back. Diving behind a random, precariously stacked, tower of boxes, the team leader in her comes out as she holds up a closed fist. I sigh and join her behind the crates.
“This is crazy. We can’t steal a skiff.” I remind her again, but Adora doesn’t budge. Instead she peeks her head around the corner.
Without looking back she replies matter-of-factly, “We won’t be stealing it, we’ll be borrowing it.” My brows shoot up.
“Borrow?!” Before I can go on, she whips around and shoves me hard against the metal with her forearm. Two skiffs fly by with an almost imperceptible whistle of air an instant later.
“Let's go.” Adora motions me forward. The compulsion to follow is too strong to resist, even against my better judgment. We sprint without cover for several meters before ducking behind another set of crates.
“What are you thinking? This isn’t like you.” I growl.
She shrugs and between pants reveals, “I thought it would cheer you up. After all, you want to see what’s outside the Fright Zone. And Octavia still owed me a favor.” My breath hitches at her words, tail flitting.
“I still don’t understand how she owes you a favor after.” It takes everything in me to keep my voice steady.
“I’m not telling you the story again, Catra. All that matters is I finally cashed it in and now I have the keys to her skiff. And I need to get them back to her by midnight or else she’s going to tell the patrol officers we snuck out. So, are we going or not?” A very small smile touches her lips. Maybe it's that or the setting sun haloing her head, but Adora glows. Her fair skin is washed with orange. I feel myself cave before I can utter a sound. It’s not like I’ll have any other opportunity to leave with Shadow Weaver around.
“Okay.” Adora’s smile widens before leader mode turns on again. She pops her head above the crates, scouting the route ahead, then we’re running. We don’t stop until we’re on the skiff having dodged several patrols to get there. The hovercraft is smaller when you’re not hiding from it. The thing barely has enough room for both of us in its sleek wall-less body. The rear rises up into some sort of strange find whereas the front narrows to a point. Adora starts the skiff in an instant like she’s done it a thousand times before. I watch in awe as she punches a code into the dash board’s keypad and the hangar door opens. None of the guards any the wiser, we silently glide from the Fright Zone into the barren landscape of the rest of the world. The further away we get, the more speed we pick up until the ground around us is nothing but a blur. That’s when it hits me.
“I take it all back. You’re officially awesome!” I laugh. “I can’t believe you actually stole a skiff!”
Her intense gaze focused on the path ahead, Adora insists, “Borrowed. Please don’t make me regret this.”
“I’ve always wanted to drive one of these things.” The rest of my shock wears off and a wild energy takes over. I’m free. Actually free. Not a thought in my head, I shove Adora from the control stick.
“Here, gimme.” Suddenly, the wasteland seems like a wonderland.
“Woah there,” she holds up a steadying but reaching hand, “save us enough fuel to get back.”
I don’t really hear her, “That’s a problem for future Adora and Catra.” Maybe if we run out of fuel we won’t have to go back.
Adora shoves my arm, but I refuse to let go of the stick so the skiff veers sharply to the side.
“I’m driving!” I shout at her, struggling to keep control.
At the same time she grunts, “I want it.”
“Can’t have it.” I retort and push the stick back the other way. The skiff tilts again. Then with pure brute force Adora yanks it back.
“Let me!” I shriek. It takes the whole of my body weight thrown against the stick to reclaim possession.
“Give it to me. I’m doing it.” She insists, muscling it away.
“Adora. I want it.”
“No, I’ve got it.”
Back and forth. Back and forth. Our screams sucked into the air. I almost don’t see the forest looming above us.
“Woah, woah, woah! Catra!” The skiff slides sideways to a jarring near halt. My hand isn’t on the control stick. Both of us stare awestruck at the trees, real trees. With the wind no longer rushing past whispers assault my ears, setting my hair on edge.
Through the onslaught I mutter, “What is it?”
“I think this must be the Whispering Woods.” The remaining momentum carries us slowly under the cover of the canopy which blocks out the setting sun, but there seems to be a glow from within. Grass coats the ground here, just like the books said it would. Rocky outcroppings are replaced by bushes and roots arching taller than me standing on Adora’s shoulders. Fruits and vines hang down just out of reach, everything whispering.
“They say there are strange, old monsters in there, and… and the trees move when you’re not looking.” She finally turns away from the woods, something like fear on her face as she looks at me. I feel my own brows lower.
Adora continues, “Every Horde squadron they’ve sent in there has never come out again.”
Maybe we won’t make it out either. Another smile plasters itself on my face.
“Let’s go in.”
“Wait, what?” A scream clips off the last syllable as I start the skiff again, sending us hurtling into the Whispering Woods. Her grip dislodges from the stick and from the corner of my eye I see her fall to her hands and knees on the skiff’s platform. But I don’t stop. With a whoop I dodge a tree, then another, and another so fast I can hardly steady the ship between. Adora stays off balance, each time she reaches for the control stick I make sure there’s another obstacle to swerve around. The whispers are clouded once again, this time by the throbbing of my heart amplified by my ears gone back. Just a little further.
“Catra, slow down!” I glare daggers at my friend. She doesn’t get it.
“Catra tree! Tree!” Suddenly the controls are ripped free of my hands. I look back at the path ahead to find a massive, knotted trunk, too wide to veer around. Blood rushes from my face. Uh oh. Adora forced the skiff vertical, narrowly avoiding the tree, but catapulting me against the craft's tail. I watch helpless as her inferior reflexes keep us in one piece as we fly up the winding wood. Then out of nowhere, a vine.
It catches Adora’s shoulders. Time slows as I reach for her, fingers skimming the stray threads on her jacket, but I miss and she plummets to the forest floor with a sharp cry.
“Adora!” I shout after her, leaning over the edge of the skiff to watch her fall, arm still outstretched. No. No no no no nonononono. I am so dead. Hopefully she isn’t dead. Adora can’t be dead.
Images of her body, every bone broken or skewered by a branch or skull crushed, flood my brain. I need to find her. She can’t be dead. With clumsy motions I take control of the skiff again, guiding it carefully to the forest floor. It takes agonizing minutes to find her under all the foliage. It’s that stupid hair puff that gives her away, peeking out from behind a moss covered rock. The craft is hardly stopped when I jump out. A thrill courses through me as my bare feet hit the soft ground, but I ignore it.
Crossing the distance between us, I drop to my knees and pull her limp body to my chest, “Adora, can you hear me? Are you okay?” My voice rises with each word. She doesn’t even stir. Frantic, I check her head for blood, her arms and legs for fractures, her pupil dilation, with an ear to her chest I check her heart beat.
Bu-dum. Bu-dum. Bu-dum…
It’s strong, steady as if it was the early morning and Adora was sleeping in her bed. A tension that I didn’t realize was there releases from my chest, heart fluttering. My aggressively flicking, puffed tail settled. I let myself collapse, shaking against my friend.
“I’m so, so stupid.” I whisper. “I just let myself get carried away because…” My voice falters. Because I’m never going to be able to leave. Shadow Weaver will never let me out. I’ll never see her again.
“I can’t lose you.” I bury my head deeper into her chest. “Please wake up.”
“Catra…” I sit up suddenly at my name, no louder than a breath in my ear. It twitches. But Adora doesn’t stir besides the steady rise and fall of her chest.
“Catra…” It comes from behind me. I whirl around. No one’s there.
“Hello?” I call, dragging myself off the ground. No one and nothing answers. With my stomach in my throat, I step toward the source of the sound. Then I glance back at Adora. Step forward. Glance back. I swat aside a branch and there, in the center of a clearing, wrapped in viney roots is a… sword? Its glinting edge shines an almost blinding light over every surface, casting out the shadows from the thick canopy above. My eyes adjust slowly, a hand thrown over my eyes and a scowl on my lips. The golden guard extends toward the broad blade almost like wings. Embedded in the hilt is a pale blue gem, similar in color to Adora’s eyes.
Without realizing I walked forward, the sword is suddenly within reach. My vision swims. In a daze, I watch my hand touch the pommel. Then the world explodes.
“Balance must be restored.” The same voice that called my name before echoes.
A glimpse of a planet. White. A lush, green forest. White. A smooth stone. White.
“Etheria must seek a hero.”
The sword. White. Ruins. White. A lone figure, illuminated by the sun, with flowing blonde hair and a warrior’s physique, with their back to me. Then they turn revealing a strangely familiar face and a glowing eye. White. Somewhere a baby cries.
A person flickers into existence, however something about them seems artificial, “Catra… Catra!”
Opening my eyes takes more effort than it should. For a moment, all I can do is lie still on my back. How did I get on my back? The canopy above spins slightly. What just happened? I barely have time to roll over before the contents of my stomach empty onto the forest floor. The presence of something that’s not me slowly crawls its way out of my mind. My muscles shake, sweat beads down my temples, breath coming in short heaves, like a bad fever. Even through the pain I can see that the sword is gone like it was never there at all. Maybe it wasn’t. Are there hallucinogenic plants in the Whispering Woods? Did I finally crack?
Somewhere not far away there’s a groan. Shoot, Adora. With a heavy sigh, I squeeze my eyes closed and force myself off my knees to my feet. My tail flicks side to side trying to keep me upright even as the ground shifts underneath. I didn’t see anything. It was probably nothing. Everything is fine. There’s no sword. It’s not there. When I open my eyes everything is stable again.
No more hesitation, I run back to my friend, dropping on top of her. Nothing happened.
There is no sword.
“Hey, Adora?” Her eyelids flutter, “Adora!”
“Catra?” She murmurs, slowly sitting up, a hand to her head, “What happened?”
“You fell out of the skiff after you drove it into a tree.”
She shoves me off her lap and I land on my butt, “No, you drove it into a tree.”
“Uuuuup for debate. C’mon, let’s go.” I motion behind me to the craft patiently waiting.
“Yeah, okay.” Adora mutters. She looks as unsteady on her feet as I feel.
“How’s your head?” I ask, hopping aboard the skiff.
“Fine I think,” She raises an eyebrow, “Are you okay?”
“Why?” My ears plaster themselves flat to my head.
“I dunno, you seem off. Did something happen after I fell?”
“No, I was just worried about you.”
“Aw, you were worried about me?” She hauls herself into the skiff beside me.
“Ugh, in your dreams, princess. Now, let’s go.” I power up the central control panel and begin to navigate us back toward the Fright Zone. It takes all my effort not to look back at the Woods because my eyes would only search for one thing: a sword that was never there in the first place.