Chapter Text
It was one afternoon in the woods that Adora found the ring and everything started to go wrong.
Not as if things had been going particularly right before that. Ever since the start of high school, it had been a long, slow slide for her and Catra both. High school brought new expectations, new responsibilities, new friends… for Adora, a creeping sense of discomfort and dissatisfaction, and for Catra a growing cynicism that threatened to drive a wedge into their seemingly unbreakable friendship.
That’s why it was ironic that they were there of all places that day, the little patch of woods that bordered Etheria Prep, the place where they had spent afternoons playing together as children. Adora used to dare Catra to try and walk across the stones in the shallow creek, and even though she hated getting wet, Catra would take the challenge and artfully leap from one small rock to the next, until Adora would start trying to distract her, and then both would wind up falling in, and come home soaked but also laughing, and—
That afternoon, Adora had been trying the old trick, but Catra just sullenly jammed her hands in her jacket pockets and walked along the banks. Adora wound up trying to jump from rock to rock on her own, until she tripped, splashing water everywhere and getting her boots soaked. At one time, Catra would have found that hilarious. Now she just seemed vaguely embarrassed about her friend’s antics.
“Come on,” Catra said. “Hordak had something he wanted to show us.”
Adora grimaced. Hordak was the leader of their little clique of outcasts, or the H.O.D.L., as Catra called them when she was in a better mood. It stood for Horde of Disaffected Losers, which was cuttingly accurate. But Adora had never been a fan of Hordak himself, the burnout senior who had been held back multiple grades. He wielded his age and experience like a club to control the rest of them, and Adora just couldn’t understand whatever it was that made Catra so desperate for his approval.
That’s when she tripped again, and landed face first in two inches of water. As she groaned and sat up, she saw Catra had just kept walking, her tail swishing behind her in annoyance. And that’s when Adora saw the glint of something shining in the creek.
“Hey,” Adora said, and Catra looked back over her shoulder. “What’s this?”
When she pulled it out of the creekbed and raised it in the air, it shone even brighter. It was a silver ring, oddly spotless and untarnished, despite laying in this creek for who-knows-how-long. Instead of a gem, the ring had a silver seal, shaped like a rose.
Catra’s ears immediately perked up in that way that Adora knew meant she was intrigued, even if she then immediately affected an air of nonchalance. “A ring?”
“Well, yeah, I know. But why is it here?”
Catra walked over, moving faster than before. “One of the Princesses dropped it?”
Adora rolled her eyes. “Don’t call them that. Just because they’re popular doesn’t mean they actually think they’re royalty.”
“Well they act like they’re better than everyone else. I’m telling you, those Student Council girls…”
“Shh!”
Another voice could be heard filtering through the trees and drawing closer. It was someone complaining—and loudly.
“I can’t believe Glimmer sent us here on this wild goose chase. There’s no way it could be here. I am not going to dig through every pile of leaves in a two mile radius of the school, no matter what she says. Just because her mom is the principal, she thinks—”
The person suddenly pushed a bush aside and walked into view. She had an undercut, with her wavy blue hair pulled over to one side, and she wore the student uniform, with a student council armband. Following close after, a larger purple-haired girl tried to hide behind her.
“Netossa,” Catra hissed.
Her eyes immediately locked onto Adora and Catra. And then they shifted to focus on the ring still shining in Adora’s hand.
“Ah!” she shouted, pointing.
Catra stepped in front of Adora, baring her teeth. At a loss, Adora jerked the ring down and out of view. And then she slipped it on her finger, in some vague sense of wanting to keep it safe.
“If I were you, I’d get lost,” Catra said.
The girl behind Netossa—Spinnerella, Adora’s brain filled in—grabbed at her arm to hold her back, but Netossa shook her off. “Not likely, kitty cat. You have something that belongs to me.”
“Then what was it doing in the river?” Catra shot back.
“Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”
“Take one guess.”
Adora blinked. She could see the trainwreck that was coming, but she couldn’t quite open her mouth to get a word in edgewise.
Netossa was already grinning. She raised one hand, palm inwards, to show the silver ring glimmering on her own finger. Then she pointed at Adora.
“I, Netossa, challenge you to a duel. Declare your second and draw your blade, or forfeit your claim to revolution!”
A moment of silence fell upon the creek.
“What?” Adora finally answered.
“I thought you were a student council nerd, not a theater kid.” Catra said, laughing. “Whatever, we accept. I will be her second.” She bowed low, a mocking smirk on her face.
Netossa seemed unfazed. In fact, her smile only deepened. “Then draw your blade,” she said. Behind her, Spinnerella backed away, wringing her hands.
Catra rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about—”
A flash of blue light danced across Netossa’s hands, and then she was holding a sword, its blade short but sharp. She darted forward, moving scarily fast, and Catra tumbled to the side with a screech.
But Netossa wasn’t aiming for her. She was headed straight for Adora. Before she could really recognize what was going on, Adora was dodging for her life. Netossa swung wildly, and one lucky strike of her first flurry cut right through the sleeve of Adora’s uniform. Whatever her weapon was, it was entirely real.
Adora lashed out in self-preservation, kicking Netossa’s ankle and causing her to drop to her knees. She scrambled back.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Catra yelled.
Adora gasped for breath, trying to back away. “We don’t have to fight!” she said.
“Yes. We. Do.” Netossa said through gritted teeth.
She raised her blade again and stood before taking a step back, eyes narrowed as she watched Adora.
Adora looked around for something—anything—to defend herself with. A stick, a rock, anything. But she was standing in the middle of the creek still. And with a splash, Netossa was charging her again.
Adora raised her arms in defense, screwing her eyes shut.
And in a flash of golden light, Netossa’s blade slammed against something solid. Adora opened her eyes to see another sword in her own hands, a surprisingly light and thin saber with a curved hilt.
Netossa’s eyes widened, and she pulled her blade back to try and strike again. Adora parried it effortlessly. And the next strike too.
“What??”
Adora frowned. “Um, yeah. I took fencing classes in middle school.” Without even thinking, she had adapted her footwork to achieve a stable position, even on the unsteady creekbed.
“Well it’s not going to save you!” With that, Netossa threw her whole body forward.
Adora had been trying to disarm the other girl, to safely put her in a position where she would yield. But she hadn’t expected Netossa to press the attack so hard. So while Netossa’s blade went flying off into the underbrush, Adora’s saber also sunk right into her chest, as if it encountered no resistance at all.
In the distance, the bells of the school’s clocktower had started to ring.
Netossa collapsed, all her weight on Adora. Adora gasped and lowered her to a seated position. Her sword was right through Netossa’s heart.
“No,” Adora whispered. In a flash, her sword disintegrated into golden light once again, leaving Netossa behind. She was crying uncontrollably, staring open-eyed into the distance. Adora looked up, and Spinnerella was gone, likely having run off into the forest. Catra was staring at the both of them, her eyes wide and round.
“I—I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Adora said. “Are you okay? Netossa? Netossa!”
She took hold of her shoulders and shook her roughly, but Netossa didn’t respond.
Catra walked over to take Adora’s hand, and dragged her to her feet. “Come on,” she hissed. “We have to go. Look, she’s fine. We have to leave her.”
Adora wanted to protest, to argue. But she didn’t have the words. So Catra dragged her off through the forest, back to school.