Chapter Text
The soft yet constant whir of distant spellcasting mingled with the hushed clinking charm of gently swaying crystals. Vaulted, angular architecture rose around her in every shade of purple, lavender, and violet imaginable. The low hum of magic vibrated through her, and a faint lingering scent of incense wafted in the air.
Adora stood in the halls of Mystacor once more, Catra by her side, on their way to the dedication and unveiling of the newly created Vault of Etherian Magical Artifacts. Over the past months, reconstruction efforts after the defeat of Horde Prime had been completed, and the kingdoms of Etheria were truly thriving once more. One interesting impact of the released magic was that artifacts that had once been inert were now subtly active once more. The mages of Mystacor had been finding and gathering these magical artifacts into the Vault.
Adora took a steadying breath. It felt good to be back in Mystacor in these circumstances, where everything was at peace once more, and they were here just as guests attending an event. It felt much different than the last time they had been here when Mystacor had been under Horde Prime’s control and Adora had taken the failsafe. It was truly a relief to be past all that now.
Adora’s drifting thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of a jacket and the soft patter of boots as Catra leaned into her side.
“Hey, you’re thinking too hard, dummy. It’s just a dedication, not your coronation, you know.” Catra’s tone was wry but grounded, meant to help pull Adora out of her head.
Adora smiled as they stepped together into the Vault chamber with its curving purple crystalline structures. Soft candlelight and crisp crystal reflections dappled the floor in patterns of gold and shadow. Tall windows displayed views of thick pink clouds deepening into purple twilight.
A small gathering of scholars and archivists drifted about the room in a mix of suits, robes and hats of varying styles. Adora tried to blend in and look like she belonged, her posture formal if a bit uneasy as she felt slightly out of place. She noticed that Catra, a pace ahead, seemed effortlessly at ease, her gaze alert, always taking everything in shrewdly.
Adora glanced down at the outfit she had worn for the dedication, a crisp cream blouse with billowing cuffed sleeves paired with a vest, skirt, and cloche hat woven through with gold thread. Burgundy buttons and accents made a perfect match to Catra’s sleek pantsuit. Its open jacket skimmed her thighs, and her more muted blouse and vest clung closely to Catra’s sleek figure. She had topped off her outfit with a fedora, its band in a matching wine silk, and Adora found the whole outfit roguishly good-looking. A pink tinge flushed her cheeks at the thought.
Catra’s tail flicked against Adora’s arm, amusement gleaming in her eyes. “Careful, Adora. If you keep looking at me like that, I might think this is a proper date.”
Adora sighed, trying to look stern and displeased but failing as her clear affection showed through.
The Head Archivist stepped forward, and a ripple shifted through the small crowd as they murmured more quietly, and their robes rustled as they came to attention. Adora and Catra gathered closer but stayed toward the back of the group.
Archivist Halyn was an older mage-scholar, her silver braids threaded with crystals. Her voice rang out smooth and formal. “Thank you for coming this evening. It is important that we preserve Etheria’s past. Long before the First Ones, Etheria’s magic existed, and now it has fully returned to us. I offer great thanks to those scholars and archivists who helped recover and preserve the artifacts we’ve gathered here today. These artifacts speak not only of our past, but of how even through occupations and war, Etheria’s magic will endure.”
Adora exhaled slowly.
Catra leaned in, “You okay?”
Adora nodded. “Yeah, it’s always just a lot thinking about how much has changed since the War.”
Catra reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
They joined in with the quiet applause that echoed softly through the chamber. The group began to slowly mill about the Vault, taking in the various artifacts. Shelves, tables, and pedestals held an array of stone carvings, fragments of masks and crowns, and ritual pendants. Etched markings shimmered faintly on some of them, and Adora could feel a faint magical resonance emanating from others. Scholars and mages moved about with robes and capes trailing.
Adora carefully approached a pedestal with a round, delicately etched ancient crystal. “This one is beautiful.”
Catra smirked and said teasingly, “Just looks like a fancy dinner plate.”
“You’re impossible,” Adora muttered.
“Yet you brought me to the fancy museum date.”
Adora blushed a bit more deeply.
Catra’s eyes scanned the room. “A lot of security for a bunch of rocks,” she noted.
“They’re not just rocks. They’re a part of our magical history,” Adora tried to insist, though her eyes also swept the edges of the room, noting a few pairs of guards standing quiet and watchful and one guard with cropped dark hair who stood slightly apart from the others, looking a bit tense, his thick brows furrowed.
Catra’s gaze had locked on him as well. “He looks a bit strained.”
Before Adora could respond or take another look, an eager scholar with pointed ears and emerald hair had approached and was diving into details about the recovery of the crown fragment beside them, and Adora turned toward her to listen politely.
Another young scholar with a headful of short curls brushed past with his arms full of scrolls. He startled a bit as they touched shoulders, and he nearly lost his grip on the stack before he stabilized it and rushed on.
The other chatty scholar beside them now led them over to a nearby table of carved relics. Some shimmered with magical energy, and a faint earthy smell emanated from them. Catra leaned against her shoulder and whispered teasingly just for Adora’s ears, “Careful now. Don't go setting something off, or we’ll be stuck with another speech.”
Adora laughed lightly, but then a faint wrong sound cut her off as it echoed through the room. Her eyes darted to Archivist Halyn, who had paused mid-conversation.
The Head Archivist’s expression tightened, and her eyes were anxious. She quickly approached a runic panel at the front of the Vault that was now glowing red. “That’s not possible,” she murmured lowly.
Suddenly alert and on edge, Adora and Catra exchange a unified glance. Hushed murmurs filled the room as guards began to fan out.
“This look like a planned part of the show?” Catra questioned in her ear, and Adora shook her head as they carefully moved closer.
Archivist Halyn pressed her hand to a portion of the panel, and a ripple of sound spread through the Vault like the hiss of sealing magic. The Head Archivist’s voice rang out tight but steady, “The Vault has been breached and is on lockdown. For now, no one leaves.”
Catra whispered to Adora, “Well, this just got interesting.”
Adora felt the reflex to call forth She-Ra, but she reined it in and felt Catra’s anchoring touch on her arm. Catra’s eyes were swiftly flicking to each face in the room and deftly taking in every detail.
As Archivist Halyn quickly approached it, all eyes in the room seemed to lock in unison on a pedestal near the edge of the room, which now stood empty with only the indentation where a stone artifact should have rested.
The Head Archivist’s voice rang out sharply, “An artifact is missing, an ancient rune-carved stone that was one of a kind and had strong magical resonance.”
Scholars began to crowd closer to the barren pedestal, a hum of panic filling the chamber. Adora and Catra instinctively moved together, pushing closer. Adora felt uneasy but tried to stay composed. Catra felt on edge, every sense highly attuned with suspicion. Still, she settled a hand on Adora’s arm reassuringly.
Then a gasp as a scholar pointed lower on the pedestal. More gasps and points quickly followed.
Freshly etched with something sharp were the carved words: THE SHROUDED ONE WILL RISE AGAIN
Adora caught Catra’s eye as the air seemed to tighten around them.
***
