Chapter Text
The sound of thunder reverberated around the forest shaking Cy’ra to her very core as heavy droplets soaked her fur and dribbled down her chin. She clutched the wound at her side grimacing slightly; the blackened wound still stung from the which is magic she pricked at it delicately. The chocolate-brown fur had been singed and the surrounding skin rapidly damaged she had tried to bind it up with what she could find, it was definitely going to scar, but she would live.
She peered out from her place in the forest, in the distance lied the once great city of Half Moon. It was fallen silent and quiet the lights warm movements which once defined the city had now been extinguished, its melted toppled rock structures trying and failing to reach for the sky, seemingly holding some remaining defiance of both the storms above, and the forest surrounding.
Cy’ra wracked her brain to try and remember what had happened, but still failed she only remembered brief flashes, the hateful peering eyes of the dark sorceress, the bravery of Halfmoon’s forces as she led them into battle, a bright flash of light, and the sensation of the rain and waking up alone among the ruins of her city.
Cold rage settled itself deep into Cy’ra’s gut as she flexed her claws as she advanced towards the city.
She walked across the main road, surveying the damage, stone houses once full of life were now empty. Markets, schools, workplaces now laid barren and lifeless; the pattering of the rain was deafening. Eventually she came up on the ruined Palace of Halfmoon once an architectural marvel made of pure white stone standing central to the city. Statues of Magicats of various types, toppled and burned around its outer edge. Its crisp white steps broken and mangled into rubble.
The atrium of the palace had remained intact although signs of struggle had left the giant marred doors which had once held the Palace closed.
Cy’ra silently stepped between them avoiding the rubble walking down the hall. It was lined with the burnt portraits of previous great Magicat rulers and princesses most of them were burned or damaged.
She walked all the way down to the end to observe her own portrait, which was hung just behind the throne of Halfmoon, noting the burn marks that lined the canvas.
In front of the portrait stood Halfmoon's throne, it was relatively intact despite the damage in the surrounding room it was the colors of the Magicats, a crisp white on embroidered dark Carmine, with bright golden inlays in the shape of flowers.
Cy’ra hated them.
She grit her teeth the teardrops continued to fall. She would make them pay.
A distant sound caused Cy’ra to pause for a moment, jolting her out of her fury. It was almost nothing barely even a whimper, hardly even a noise above great drips from the rain above, but it still shook her out of her thoughts.
The lioness squinted slinking back into the shadows carefully looking around, to the confines of the throne, before taking a deep inhale sniffing the air and focusing, quietly channeling the power of the Jaguar Eye in her pocket.
The runestone had thankfully been spared during the destruction of Half-Moon, who knew what dark sacrilege the witch could have accomplished with two runestones in her possession.
Cy’ra pupils dilated, as she stepped out into the light flittering down from the ceiling the smell wasn’t that of a Horde soldier or machine, but that of a Magicat, they were nearby.
Cy’ra moved with purpose now the claws on her feet clicking on the crisp white stone of the palace floor out into the courtyard. The city laid before her, as her ears pricked up once more frantically looking around at the source of the smell.
She locked on to a house in the distance, gliding on all fours, ignoring the searing strain of her wounds, the Jaguar Eye pulsing aiding her speed.
The house she settled on stood silent and grey in the pale light of the sky, much like the rest of the surrounding area, Cy’ra heard the cry again and slowed her pace moving delicately towards it.
She merged through the empty halls; thankful the structure had been left had mostly been left intact before settling on the source of the noise.
She carefully walked up onto the room taking in a deep death before going inside.
Inside was a nursery bed with a blanket struggling and squirming.
Cy’ra looked carefully into the struggling mass gently unwrapping the piece of cloth before responding with a soft “oh”.
A kitten turned towards her before shrugging away, carefully it checked back and upon seeing her broke into a smile at Cy’ra with a happy gurgling noise.
Cy’ra rushed forward taking up the blanket and infant in her arms, she held it tightly walking it over to the light and examining it rapidly for any injury or damage. The child giggled reaching out with a clawed hand to grab her finger.
It was a light brown with a short dark mane.
“Oh dear” Cy’ra said a whirlwind of emotions struggling around inside her the rage inside of her gut settling “It's all right dear I promise you, it's all right now” She finally got a good look at its eyes one was gold and the other was blue. She looked down at the blanket the child was wrapped in, the crisp blue embroidered letters read out a name.
“Cat’ra” She whispered she looked back towards the child, nuzzling her closer to her chest, as the baby cooed.
Cradling the child Cy’ra’s thoughts rapidly shifted to her next move. Her people were gone, and her time of revenge would have to be delayed. She looked down at the child before here; she had other priorities now.
The idea of going to Brightmoon echoed in her mind but she thought against it, Angella had abandoned Half-Moon in their most dire moment to protect her own skin, she didn’t feel comfortable seeking their aid now.
She stepped out of the house now after fashioning a sling for Cat’ra out of some blankets around her waist. Cy’ra turned her eyes towards the whispering woods, the Jaguar Eye called out to them.
The Magicats had come from the deepest parts of the whispering woods she would return to there to her safety.
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Green sparks echoed across the night sky reverberating both sound and light throughout the surrounding metal buildings of the Fright Zone. The entire compound flickered; its power grid being strained to the absolute limits, ready to burst at any moment.
Hordak frantically worked as another streak of light came out of nowhere to hit his lightning rod providing just enough power to allow the portal in front of them to take shape if only for a moment. This was the only way he could concentrate power on this primitive world.
In his mind he had done his brother proud, now he had established territory and conquered one of this world’s great kingdoms to further his empire and proclaim the rule of Prime. All he needed now was to signal him back and regain his place of honor.
The witch stood further back from him, keeping to the shadows her pupils light against the dark, Hordak didn't really mind her that much but thus far she had been a valuable ally, especially in the defeat of the Magicats.
The screens on his console beeped incessantly turning red as another lightning strike hit, absorbing lightning rod absorbing its energy in violent sparks and screeches.
“It's almost time” Hordak said to himself almost chanting “The moment of my ambitions is almost realized”
The wind caused the back of his cape to flutter violently, he adjusted some more knobs and typed in some more commands to his console among the loud chorus of thunder.
Before him stood the frame of the portal. It was constructed of dark cold metal, into a circular pattern on the outer perimeter of it various wires and blinking lights were attached to it like veins and arteries leading to the heart and supplying power and data. It stood as his salvation, an entrance off this desolate planet an entrance back to the life he had known before.
A final blow of lightning struck the rod as the machinery around him began to admit a ghostly wail the witch staggered back at the noise covering her ears and Hordak grit his teeth staring forward to the portal.
The faint outlines had begun to form again, they were more solid this time, they vibrated in cascades of brilliant color shapeless and infinite and faded into cold expanse.
Hordak let out a mighty roar of frustration, punching at the lever forward on his console releasing all available power of the Fright Zone. The wires around the periphery of the portal glowed a brilliant red from the strain of energy they were taking.
“My Lord” Shadow Weaver screamed over the noise “It's too much for the system we’ll have to turn it off”
Hordak held up his hand at her flexing in metal fingers “Go if you wish which but I will see this through” He yelled balling his hands up into his fists feeling the tightness “No one will get in my way, I will prove my worth!” he barked
He turned back to see the monstrous creation, a portal in perfect form and function shimmering before him in vagrant echoes he could see that life before him.
Just like that it all vanished.
A large wire up to the left of the portal ripped open spraying the area wildly with sparks and fire smoke began to rise from it while the console flashed rapid warning signals. The structure he was on shook, and the reverberations echoed as the surrounding structure barely held its weight.
Now, the portal began collapsing in on itself, twisted shards of metal were swallowed in never to be seen again, before finally exploding outward in climactic fury. Hordak closed his eyes and dived behind his console.
He awoke again to ringing ears. And the frantic hum of his heart beating.
He looked down his exoskeleton had been ruined, bits of metal we embedded in it. Hordack rolled forward placing his hands right in front of him and struggling to back to his feet, the edges of his visions blurred as he brought up hand to his head.
Shadow Weaver was still down where she had taken cover.
To the right where the portal had been Hordak I heard a noise.
It was a creature, it was crying.
In the area around the portal stood a black ring of debris along with broken bits of electronic parts and dust. In the center laid a child wrapped up tightly in a blanket crying loudly.
Hordak felt drawn to the sound. He carefully walked over to it glancing down; unsure what to do. Carefully he picked it up has it began to struggle and cry louder. He could see its blue eyes; tears were streaming down them. It had golden hair it was wrapped tightly in a pale blue blanket.
This was a creature of power he felt it, an insignificant thing that had somehow come out of its place in the universe though incalculable odds to land at his step.
In that moment with the child crying in his arms Hordak perhaps saw, much like himself, a helpless creature thrust upon the world; struggling to make do against forces which at this point in time seemed so great and impossible to triumph against. Hordak believed all had a place in Prime be it general or footsoldier and his realm would be no different.
This creature would be his to mold with which he could show his intention on the world. It would be his to control, another testament into the accomplishments which proved that he deserved to be at his master's side again.
Hordak heard shadow Weaver walking behind him the soles of her feet clicking against the cold ruined metal of the platform. The witch stalked over with a limp to the child like a vulture sizing up carrion, getting next to Hordak, she turned to him and hissed “This creature has power can you feel it? It's a threat to us”
Hordak glanced away from those blue eyes of the crying child and considered her a moment
“Must you always react with fear everything you come across Shadow Weaver” he scoffed “You look at this thing, this insignificant creature and see a threat. I feel its power too but when I look at it, I see potential”
(Twelve Years Later((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
Energy sparked along Cat’ra’s body as she flung herself towards her opponent gracefully jumping and leaping with all the energy of the world.
For Cy’ra the years had passed so rapidly as she watched her daughter mature from their home inside the whispering woods. Now the time had come where her daughter had wanted to fight like a Magicat.
Eventually on the passing of her the 10th anniversary in which she had found her, Cy’ra had agreed to training her within reason.
Cy’ra smirked now at the 12-year-old’s open advance while holding herself with the steady confidence of a seasoned fighter, before readying herself into a stance, knees bent arms in front fists up.
Cy’ra was dressed in simple exercise gear a black crop top with Gray quick shorts that clung to her body. The scar that held to the side of her belly shown bare, a delicate reminder of her past.
Cat’ra began her with a high jump kick barreling her feet towards her opponent’s stance and managing a glancing blow which Cy’ra easily blocked.
Her mother was a skilled fighter, and quickly skipped her way around Cat’ra’s side outmaneuvering her and responded with a few light warning jabs. Not enough to hurt but just enough to let Cat’ra know that she had been hit.
Cat’ra backed up giving some distance between them, observing the other Magicat for a moment carefully surveying her movements as Cy’ra had taught her, trying to notice each muscle movement.
“You're letting me outmaneuver you” Cy’ra said calmly from a distance away shifting slowly out of a fighting stance allowing Cat’ra to observe her “Always keep your eyes on an opponent especially in single combat”.
Cat’ra nodded in response still determined.
She charged once more at Cy’ra carefully shuffling her feet in coming to the right this time. The two danced around each other for a little while as Cat’ra struggled to find her footing and catch Cy’ra off guard.
Cy’ra simply slipped around Cat’ra instead of throwing any punches back in order to allow her daughter to practice; always managing to comfortably stay ahead of any swings.
Cat’ra finally decided she had an opening and moved forward with an opening jab before rapidly shifting into an uppercut, but Lyra was quicker and easily blocked them both.
She moved around Cat’ra fluidly again giving a slight warning tap onto her right-side belly.
Cat’ra backed off again dropping out of her stance and walking around Cy’ra thinking about it go at her. Cy’ra was clearly stronger and faster than her, so she needed to be smarter of she was ever going to get a hit.
“It’s okay to disengage an enemy in single combat” Cy’ra praised, remaining in her fighting stance, “You will be faster than most, so use this to your advantage”
Cat’ra nodded before advancing again, more thoughtfully this time, jerking around unpredictably at her, shuffling as she came. Cy’ra’s stance loosened and she tried to match Cat’ra pace.
Cat’ra gave an experimental jab and then another firing in the same place again, for the third time she gave a quick false swipe before jolting backward and changing stance flinging off a quick kick in a different area. She caught Cy’ra in the lower belly and felt the weight of her kick, before steadily going backward and giving herself some distance again.
Cy’ra grunted, the hit was more of a surprise than anything, but she was still smiling as Cat’ra grinned back at her.
Cy’ra’s body loosening as she exited her stance “You finally managed to hit me kid” walking over to rub her daughters head affectionately. “That’s enough for today, you are to attend to the rest of your studies, and chores”
Cat’ra groaned “But mom” She said leaning into her mother’s side “It’s my 12th birthday today, I want to celebrate”
It was tradition for Magicat parents to teach their children to shift on the full moon during the month of their 12th birthday. Though her people were gone she would still pass on this tradition to Cat’ra as her own mother had taught her.
“And you will but it is too early to begin the process” She teased her daughter “And first I must pick-up some things in Thyamore, now run off, won’t you?” She said lazily walking away “I will be back this evening with sweets, oh and Cat’ra?” She called back
“Yes mom” her daughter responded
“Please try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone” She gently reminded “We wouldn’t want a repeat of the mouse incident would we”
Cy’ra relished the sound of her daughter groaning as she slipped silently into the security of the whispering woods.
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The locker room had been quiet and uneventful as it often was after her team had failed one of their missions. Adora’s body moved mechanically taking a shower and returning her training gear back in exchange for her regular clothes. They were those of a regular Horde Soldier, even if she was Hordak’s chosen child she would still get no special treatment.
Her breath quickened as she went to the sink to wash her face, a sinking pit gnawing in her gut. After her team’s failure in their simulation, Shadow Weaver had specifically requested her presence.
She splashed water over her face, before looking in the dirty mirror before her. Her blue eyes stood out against the drab nature of locker-room around her, all the other cadets had already left it.
She took a special moment to note thin white scar which trailed the right side of her cheek, it was the mark of her father.
A reminder of the price of failure.
In her time growing up in the Fright Zone Adora had come to fear her father, but she feared Shadow Weaver more. Her teacher lorded over her at every opportunity she could. Even now she could feel the effects past dark magic stinging upon her skin.
The dark magic had had several effects. It could crawl over you like a bug that you could never swat on your skin, it could make you feel things you didn't want to.
She often felt an impending danger surrounding it; like a coiled-up snake that she couldn't get away from, always ready and within striking distance.
Adora feared that magic even if she wouldn't admit it out loud.
She would never admit to the weakness
She tried to steady herself for a moment, staring in the mirror looking at her reflection. Weakness would be noticed; weakness would be punished.
Her body seemed to move on its own accord walking out to the long dark hallway line with red lights towards where she knew Shadow Weaver's office was. The Fright Zone’s vast and long metal hallways for confusing and nondescript to the naked eye but her father had taught her when she was younger how to navigate and efficiently move through the vast labyrinth. It was designed to confuse intruders should there be any.
Shadow Weavers office was far larger and much more personalized than any of the other quarters besides Hordak’s own and even then, it was vastly different to the hard metal industrial motif found elsewhere in the Fight Zone. It lied on the outer edge of the overall compound and contained a meeting room along with Shadow Weaver’s own personal lab. Few soldiers or cadets dared to go near it and a strange pressure in the air held around it, almost as a warning for the place.
Adora found herself standing outside the doors, almost not remembering how she got there. Her hand-held inches off the door in preparation of a trepid knock.
She gave the door to experimental taps before it swung open leading her into the room
A massive desk lied before her with messy papers strewn about it, in front of the desk stood in uncomfortable chair where those who would meet with Shadow Weaver would sit. To the side was a fancy couch which almost seemed out of place in the surroundings.
Adjacent to the office sprawled a massive laboratory which always had a musty smell the air was dark and damp the lighting was always muted.
Strewn across the laboratory for various bits and materials technology with other things which Adora did not recognize things from elsewhere in all of Etheria.
While Adora did have some knowledge of her father's experiments, she remained unaware of anything that Shadow Weaver did over here.
Adora calmly walked into the room and waited in the chair, her leg tapping nervously as she resisted the urge to bite her nails.
The suffocation of the room was nearly killing her as she waited.
It started with a fidget it was the overwhelming need to move; eventually Adora started pacing across the room something still felt off to her.
She noticed the door behind Shadow Weaver's desk left slightly ajar. A faint light shone through as Adora tried to ignore it turning her head away, but something kept attracting her to the light. Shadow Weaver still nowhere to be found. Adora looked carefully outside the entrance before returning her attention to the door behind Shadow Weavers desk.
She walked up to it with slow careful steps gingerly knocking which caused the door to fall even farther open.
There was an itch in her skin begging her to go further, but she was still nervous.
“Shadow Weaver Ma’am” She called out tentatively into the newfound room. “Are you in here? I'm ready for my punishment and formal report”
There was no answer, Adora finally got the courage to look inside the room.
Inside was another smaller lab with workbench and various tools which she didn't recognize.
However, the room's most recognizable feature is a massive black stone that swirled across the middle of the room in patterns and vibrations with magic. Energy buzzed among Adora’s skin as she looked at it. It was the source of light, faintly glowing in the room but still ink black in color.
Adora’s legs willed themselves forward seemingly acting on their own accord, stepping silently and walking slowly around the stone towards the workbench.
The black garnet stood in the center of the room. She felt like it was watching her; it smelled and felt of Shadow Weaver but there was something else too, something lost. It had a different magic to it.
Adora stepped closer to the stone close enough to see her reflection in it. She saw herself but she was different, her hair was longer her muscles were bigger and she didn't look so gaunt.
The black circles under her eyes had also disappeared along with her scar.
She looked strong and brave.
Tentatively after a little time she finally reached out to touch it before wincing back slightly her hand feeling the writhing of Shadow Weaver's magic before shifting to a different feeling of magic which felt cool to her hand and calm.
Her eyes kept staring at the reflection as it dissipated replaced by sharp cat-like eyes that stared out from the black garnet, but they did not frighten her. Adora felt at peace.
Then it all ended so fast.
“You” Adora heard Shadow Weaver hiss from across the room. She whipped her head over to gaze upon the menacing witch, she hadn't heard her enter. The witch towered above her, as the violent magic expanded from the stone taking over and destroying the reflection.
Adora fell back in fear shaking, quickly trying to crawl away.
Shadow Weaver was terrifying as she stood before Adora in all her dark glory, her tendrils weeping around her in rapid whips.
The garnet stood in the background pulsing with dark magic
Adora was gasping trying desperately to gain a hold of her breath.
“You have invaded my private quarters, you insolent child” Shadow Weaver's voice boomed “Ever since you've arrived you've been a pain in my neck, and distraction for Lord Hordak, and even now you dare to defy me”
She whipped out her tendrils rapping over Adora’s left arm they grabbed harshly and began to burn.
“You will not be so insufferable anymore” She screeched
The burning tendrils dragged Adora towards the witch as she desperately tried to scamper away faintly with their feet scraping off the floor.
Adora could hear her heart thumping to her chest as she turned face to face forcibly with Shadow Weaver. The eyes on the witch’s mask burned red.
In a moment of clarity in pure panic Adora fired her right fist forward and a sharp punch clapping Shadow Weaver in her lower jaw, the iconic mask cracked before falling to the ground with the clatter.
The tendril loosened and Adora managed to rip her arm out, clutching it at the pain. She ran now trying to get as far away as she could from Shadow Weaver just barely seeing the now uncovered monstrous cracked face which stared at her with pure hate.
Shadow Weaver, still dazed from the strike, screamed. “Get back here NOW”
But Adora was already gone dashing out of the lab, out of the office, back into the Fright Zone in frantic steps.
Her arm burned from the dark magic and she still held it tightly not daring to look down at it. Her legs kept running, and running and running. Adora felt herself moving towards the toward the hangar with the skiffs.
Her heart thumped rapidly in her throat.
She had to get away.