Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I burn’d / and ached for wings”

— John Keats

"oh it / it puts the heart in my chest on wings

for when I look at you, even a moment,

no speaking / is left in me"

— Sappho (trans. Anne Carson)

“I dreamed you, I wished for your existence.”

— Anaïs Nin

PROLOGUE

Halfmoon, Etheria 

Eternia, no larger than its surrounding stars, shines bright and innocent in Etheria’s lavender sky, as if it’s still alive. Catra squints up at it as the moons start to set. She-Ra’s lying on the grass next to her, and stretches her arm up towards the sky, as if her hand could hold the entirety of the planet, as if she could still save it.

“Sometimes it's hard to believe it's really gone," She-Ra says wistfully.

Gone is a gentle way of putting it.

As allies, Eternia and Etheria fought in the same intergalactic war. Even though it ended with both planets on the winning side, it was no victory. Catra's parents died when she was six, leaving her with no living family, a cold and empty palace, and an almost desolate kingdom. It wasn't long before Eternia grew desperate enough to build a weapon using their planet's magic as a cautionary measure for future wars. But they gravely miscalculated, and in the process, they destroyed themselves.

It's why She-Ra's here, now. As the former Princess of Eternia, currently the princess of a planet that no longer exists, she didn't have anywhere else to go. Etheria’s leaders said she needed to be kept somewhere safe, and somewhere safe turned out to be Halfmoon. 

Six years have passed since then, and the light from Eternia’s explosion hasn't reached Etheria's sky yet. To the unknown observer, Eternia exists as an innocuous constellation, settled between Eridani and Aquarii. 

Hesitant, Catra asks, "Do you miss it?" It’s a weighted question, but she knows She-Ra won't mind her asking. Now that Catra's older, she suspects her advisors wanted She-Ra in Halfmoon because the war took everything away from both of them. They could relate to each other. 

"I don't remember it that well," She-Ra admits. Defeated, her hand rests on the grass now, only several inches away from Catra's.  

"I understand," Catra says. She-Ra was young when she had to flee her planet. If it weren’t for Light Hope, her hologram-guardian, she might not be here at all.

She-Ra links their pinkies together like an unspoken promise. A trail of shooting stars livens the sky. Shooting stars are common this time of year, but Catra still finds them enchanting to look at. Catra glances over towards She-Ra, but she’s not smiling. That’s surprising. She-Ra loves space, she loves stars. “A princess from beyond the stars,” Light Hope had once called her, probably the closest thing she could give to a compliment. Even though it grieves her, Catra knows that She-Ra likes looking at Eternia when she's feeling homesick. 

She-Ra’s longing eyes meet hers. "I have to go and start packing, soon," she says quietly. 

Light Hope has insisted that at twelve, She-Ra is old enough now to join her next mission in the search for Eternian survivors across the galaxy. Light Hope believes it's important that She-Ra herself, being their princess, makes an appearance. 

Catra thinks it’s a terrible idea, but even as the Princess of Halfmoon, it's not her place to get involved in Eternian affairs. Not that Catra hasn’t tried, but it ended with the two of them not speaking to each other for three days. As She-Ra leaves tomorrow, Catra doesn’t want there to be any conflict on her last night in Halfmoon.

She-Ra pulls her hand away and sits up, summoning her wings and their usual prismatic glow. When the glow fades, her tri-colored wings (yellow at the top, pink in the middle, blue at the bottom) are left vibrant and lovely. Catra suspects it’s an Eternian thing—her own black, red-tipped wings appear when beckoned without any glowing theatrics, just a prolonged itch on her back. Catra kind of hates how beautiful She-Ra’s wings are, the same way she hates the blossoming feeling in her chest that grows when She-Ra's around. 

"I'll help you pack," Catra says. 

That gets She-Ra to smile.

*

She-Ra’s quarters are on the eastern side of Halfmoon's palace. It's where she lives when she's not visiting one of the other kingdoms or studying in Bright Moon. The invitation to study alongside Princess Glimmer was extended to Catra as well, but she’s always preferred to stay in her own kingdom when given the chance. Bright Moon is a little too bright for Catra's tastes, though she understands why She-Ra's fond of it—she grew up with a sun on Eternia, and Bright Moon is the closest place to it.

She-Ra starts the process by sorting through her favorite books on her bookshelf. Catra ungraciously sprawls out on She-Ra's bed, taking up as much space as possible. If She-Ra thought Catra “helping” meant more than simply watching, she’s a lost cause.

Catra pays attention to the meticulous way She-Ra folds her shirts, tucking them into her suitcase like every single one is a precious thing. Eventually, Catra gets bored, and while She-Ra’s facing her dresser, Catra starts to take out her shirts, setting them on the bed as if She-Ra had never packed them at all.

When She-Ra turns around and catches her in the act, she giggles. “Aw, are you going to miss me?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips and smirking. “That’s embarrassing for you, C’yra.”

Catra rolls her eyes. She-Ra only calls her C’yra when she’s trying to irritate her. “Absolutely not. I’m just going to be bored while you’re gone for a whole year. You’re going to miss my thirteenth birthday.” Catra doesn't really care about birthdays, but she does care about She-Ra not being there. 

“I’ll get you a present from a planet that’s super far away, something you can’t get here," She-Ra compromises. "Is there anything you'd want?”

Catra shrugs. “I’ve never left Etheria, you know that. I don’t know what I’d want.” I want you to stay, she thinks. But she can't vocalize that, it wouldn't be fair to She-Ra, who clearly is excited to have the chance to go back into space again, no matter how hard she tries to downplay it.

“Hmm,” says She-Ra thoughtfully, sitting next to her. “I guess I’ll have to surprise you, then.”

“It’d better be good," Catra grumbles.

“Only the best for a princess,” She-Ra says robotically, mocking the way Light Hope speaks to both of them.

Catra can't hold back her laughter. She's going to miss She-Ra's imitations, miss their inside jokes, miss the way that She-Ra gets her. Sure, they'll be able to video-chat through their communicators, but after a certain distance, they'll stop working. 

She-Ra playfully bumps their shoulders. “I don’t want to be gone for so long,” she admits.

“So tell Light Hope,” Catra says. "Make it a shorter trip."

“You know it’s not that easy. Light Hope says—”

“I don’t care what Light Hope says,” Catra snaps, getting off the bed and walking to the other side of the room, pointedly glaring at the empty spaces on She-Ra's bookshelf. “She’s a dumb hologram. And she hasn’t been able to find anyone since she started searching. It’s been six years, She-Ra. I’m not sure why she thinks you should go.”

“Am I just supposed to give up on my people?” She-Ra asks, sounding hurt.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Catra says, though what she is saying cusps on the same argument they had earlier this week.

What would you do if it was your planet?” She-Ra asks. "If you were the only one left?"

Catra hugs her arms and answers, “I’m not sure, She-Ra. I’m not even old enough to run my kingdom yet, I don’t know what I would do with a whole planet. I’m sorry.”

"I’m sorry, too,” She-Ra says. “That wasn’t a fair question to ask.”

Catra sighs to herself and turns around. “You have nothing to be sorry for, dummy. Of course you shouldn’t give up on your people. If they’re still out there somewhere, they’re going to be happy to see you.”

“Do you really think so?” She-Ra asks, her bright wings fluttering softly.

“Yeah,” Catra says. “Who wouldn’t be?”

She-Ra smiles at her warmly and elegantly rises off the bed. "I’m going to finish packing,” she says purposely. “And then, I’m going to spend my last night in Halfmoon at D’riluth Tower.”

D'riluth Tower has become their place. It's not the tallest tower in Halfmoon, but it's one of the more private ones. Bright Moon might have a better view of the moons, but Halfmoon has the best view of the moonset, where the sky is left a beautiful and burning red. She-Ra once confessed the view from D’riluth Tower rivals Bright Moon's moonset, making Catra love it even more. And it's one of the few places Catra's advisors and Light Hope haven't been able to find them. Part of Catra wants She-Ra to stay hidden there for the next few days, so Light Hope will postpone the trip or go back into space on her own. 

“Have fun by yourself,” Catra says. She’s smiling, but She-Ra takes the bait anyway. She always does, Catra counts on it. 

“Catra!” she says, offended. “Please come with me. I want to spend all the time I have left with my best friend.” She reaches for Catra’s hand, and Catra can feel her cheeks heat up. She hopes She-Ra doesn’t notice. 

“Fine,” Catra says. “Only you’re going to be alone with Light Hope on a spaceship for months and I feel bad for you. I would never subject anyone to that kind of torture."

“Whatever you say,” She-Ra says, her pale blue eyes shining knowingly. 

Catra sticks her tongue out. "I'll race you there," Catra says, floating a few feet in the air. 

"Hey, I haven't finished packing yet!" She-Ra points out. But her wings expand, and she lifts herself into the air as well.

"Sounds like future She-Ra's problem," Catra retorts, and takes off.  

She beats She-Ra to the tower. The sky is darker now, leaving all the stars in full view.

When She-Ra catches up to her, she says, "That wasn't fair," but she's grinning, holding both her hands behind her back. "I actually have something for you." She-Ra avoids her eyes shyly. “I made it back when I was in Plumeria. Look!” She-Ra reveals two necklaces, they’re nearly identical, each has a golden pendant with stylized wings. Upon closer inspection, Catra realizes that one is the left wing, the other the right. Together, they make a complete set. “I made us matching necklaces,” She-Ra says with pride.

Catra tries to laugh her flush away. “You are such a sap,” she teases, followed by the sound of her own uncontained giggles, completely thrilled by the gift. “Give me that.” Adora hands it over, and Catra puts it on. She's never been particularly fond of jewelry, but she can make an exception for this.

"Consider it an early birthday present," says She-Ra. 

"You'd better still get me something good from another planet," replies Catra.

She-Ra laughs. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Feeling daring, Catra says, "Prove it.”

She-Ra raises an eyebrow. "The necklace wasn't enough? It's pure Etherian gold, Catra. It took me forever to craft them so that they actually matched.”

Catra only shrugs at her. “Not my fault you chose to make me something out of gold,” she retorts.

“You—” She-Ra starts to say, but she falters. Her eyes glint wonderfully, deviously. She-Ra steps closer, but then she stills. She leans in and her lips brush against Catra's cheek chastely, but it's enough to leave Catra's face burning.

"Does that help?" She-Ra asks. Catra can only nod. She-Ra laughs once more, leaving her whole face rosy. Her wings fold and unfold excitedly. “Say it back,” she says.

Catra makes sure to give She-Ra the biggest eye-roll before saying, “I’m going to miss you, too, dummy.”

*

Six months pass slowly, and She-Ra’s ship goes missing. Not gone, not permanently, like Eternia, but missing, something yet to be found. At least, that's the tiniest trace of hope Catra can cling to. 

The ship's last known coordinates were located in a quadrant further than they were supposed to travel, beyond the reaches of territories known to Etheria. If Eternia was familiar with that area, there are no records left to prove it. 

With the help of her advisors, Catra organizes a team to search for the ship. Catra begs them to let her go with them on the mission; but she’s hardly thirteen, and she won’t be able to exercise her full powers as a princess for another five years. All Catra can do in the meantime is count down each year, and send out messages to every neighboring planet and ally to keep their eyes out for an Eternian girl with blonde hair and bright tri-colored wings. 

But with each year that passes, there is no sign of She-Ra. Catra can't bring herself to look at the night sky anymore, not when Eternia is still there, and She-Ra isn't around to look at it.

Eight years later

May 10, 1989, Earth

Sparkling light fills the nearly empty roller rink, thanks to the disco ball. Yellow-white dots and dashes dance around each other. If Adora isn't careful, looking at them for too long will give her a headache. The nonstop blaring pop music doesn't help. Currently, The Bangles are playing. 

“These shoes don’t fit,” a thirteen-year-old tells Adora, loudly dropping the pair of skates onto the counter.

Not for the first time, Adora thinks about quitting. Her $3.50 an hour at Fright City’s only roller rink really is not worth it, considering it's barely above minimum wage. But as tedious as this job gets, she's got to save up money somehow if she wants to move out of the dorms and into own apartment by the time fall comes around.  

Suppressing a sigh, in her best, cheery customer service voice, Adora asks, “Were they too big or too small?”

The girl just stares back at her, smacking her gum. “Too big.”

“I’ll get you the next size down,” Adora says, taking the pair and exchanging them for a pair of sevens. “Here,” Adora says, trying not to sound annoyed.

Unimpressed, the girl takes the skates and goes back to her group of friends, whose perfume Adora can still smell from behind the counter. Adora turns to face Lonnie, who’s leaning back against the counter with her arms crossed, evidently bored out of her mind but looking cool anyway.

“Just a few more hours of this,” Lonnie says, reminding Adora as much as herself. The middle schoolers are nicer than the high schoolers, who haven't gotten out of school yet. 

“If I don’t walk out first,” Adora replies. She would never actually walk out and quit her job, but sometimes the clientele is annoying enough to tempt her. Then again, Kyle walked out once and still got re-hired, so maybe she should give it more thought.

Lonnie gasps and clutches her chest dramatically. “And leave me alone with Kyle? I thought we were friends.”

They both laugh. The two of them have been working here since senior year of high school. It's been two years since then, and they’ve gotten spoiled getting to goof off together during the slow seasons. It gets boring, but at least their pay is stagnant. Unless a better job comes up, neither one of them will be working anywhere else anytime soon.

“But hey,” Lonnie says. “Rogelio is having a little get together at his place tonight. You should come by.”

Adora's flattered that Lonnie asked at all, but she has to decline. “I have my history final in the morning,” she says. 

“That’s too bad,” Lonnie says. 

"Yeah, I've got a big night of studying ahead of me."

Adora's not particularly interested in history—she just can’t make peace with her own, or the lack of it. Not that any of her friends know that. She's never told them about the accident when she was younger, leaving her with aching scars on her back, and hazy memories of red lightning and green eyes. Lonnie wouldn’t believe her if she said she still remembers what clouds taste like, that she still dreams about stars in a different sky, that she knows there's something she's missing. 

The good thing about working at Fright Rink is that it's a distraction. She's memorized most of the songs that play, and she can always keep herself busy by disinfecting skates—they always need it. Adora doesn't know how she tolerates the feet smell half the time, she learned early on that it's best to own her own pair of roller skates, and made a vow never to rent shoes from anywhere again.

After several slow hours and more painful interactions with gum-chewing patrons, Kyle shows up late to take over her place for the closing shift. 

“Took you long enough,” Adora tells him. But they're understaffed. It's putting up with Kyle or working overtime, which Adora would prefer not to do, considering Thursday nights are the busiest weeknights. Adora’s had to clean up more than enough pieces of gum off the floor today, and the summer season is only just beginning. 

“Sorry,” Kyle says, as if they don’t have this conversation every single shift.

“It’s fine,” Adora says.

“Are you going to Rogelio’s thing later?” he asks.

“I can’t,” Adora says. “I have a final tomorrow.” In a way, she’s grateful for the excuse not to go, it’s never been easy pretending she’s just the average college student, knowing that she doesn’t really belong.

*

Adora locks her bike and makes her way into her dorm. She’s lucky to have a single, but it’s small, mostly bare, save for the magazine cut outs of her favorite bands and a poster of Shot in the Dark.

She showers off the lingering smell of the rink—no matter how many people show up she always smells like sweat and cleaning chemicals.

Once she’s out, she turns on her radio to 103.1 KFZ.EH, the one radio station in Fright City that's dedicated to all things supernatural and Etherian-related. It’s entirely speculation, all anyone knows is that Etherians have wings, like angels. Despite Fright City being an average sized town in the middle of nowhere, the station gets busy. People call in to report UFO sightings regularly, claiming that they're Etherian ships. 

Of course, there are nonbelievers, people who equate Etherians to Bigfoot, claiming that every photograph of a winged person is fake. Some go as far to say that they’re regular human beings paid by the government to wear fake wings, in order to distract the general public from the real extraterrestrials. That’s one of Adora’s favorite theories to laugh at.

Adora doesn't remember much from her earlier years, but she knows she had wings once, and that they were taken away. The scars on her back prove it. Her Earth memories begin with the series of men in fancy suits who came to question her about her past. They claimed her parents died in a car accident. But Adora knew better, even then. She got good at playing dumb, learned how to mourn for a family she knew never existed. Now that she's older, she believes they were from the government—the same men who took her wings away, leaving her flightless and weak.

When she moved in with her first foster family, she was promised she wouldn’t have to talk to those men anymore. It’s been eight years since then, and Adora hasn’t spoken to them, but she still catches them in their black vans spying on her, reminding her she has to be careful. They never approach her, never ask her questions; but Adora can feel them lurking, watching her from the safety of their vehicles, as if they’re waiting for her wings to magically reappear. 

That’s why she enjoys listening to all the commotion on 103.1, nonsense and all. It’s a reminder that she’s not alone. Right now, the channel is on a commercial break, playing an ad for a new tape player.

Adora lies back on her bed, closes her eyes. It’s barely even eight o’clock. Her shoulder blades twitch at the thought of summer starting. Adora doesn't remember the color of her wings, or what the weather on Etheria even looked like. But she’s sure she must have loved the summers there, assuming it’s a planet with summers.

"Reports are saying an Etherian has been spotted outside of Fright City this evening," the radio host announces.

The static cackles. Adora freezes. There’s no way. Etherian sightings on Earth are already rare, but one happening here—this close to her? An Etherian hasn’t been spotted around Fright City in years. Adora would know—she's kept track of every sighting across the country, hoping to find a pattern. She has a map with red circled cities marking the places where Etherians have been spotted. The last sighting was near the Crimson Waste Observatory two years ago, three hours away. 

"And she has a wingspan of approximately eight feet. You heard it here first, folks! An Etherian sighting in our own backyard!" 

Adora bounces out of bed, cranks the dial to the right, hoping he'll disclose more information. The host doesn’t, he thanks the station’s sponsors, and the person providing the news of the Etherian sighting. While that person phones in, Adora laces up her white Doc Martens and grabs her favorite red windbreaker, the air is still cool enough in early May to wear one.

“Come on,” Adora says out loud. “Where is she going?”

This will be the closest in proximity she's ever been to an Etherian, on this planet, anyway. She knows it's probably a lost cause, but she has to try. It might be her only chance to find a way back home. 

"Looks like she's heading towards Fright City’s college campus," the host says. 

"Score," Adora says. She glances at the history textbooks on her desk—names and dates belonging to Earth’s past have mysteriously lost all importance right now. 

She grabs a flashlight and marches out of her room.

Adora shivers once she steps outside, holding her flashlight with her right hand and putting her left in her jacket's pocket, crumpling leftover Snickers bar wrappers. The sun has already set, but it’s still faintly light out. Thankfully there aren’t many people outside. Adora prefers it this way, so there’s no one around to judge her for constantly staring at the sky.

But the sky is empty, with only a few sparse stars starting to glow. Adora holds her breath, hoping to catch the familiar sound of wings, or to feel the wind change direction.

There's nothing but the sound of a car alarm going off a few blocks away. 

After thirty minutes of wandering around campus, the closest being she finds to an Etherian is a raccoon slinking behind a trash bin. 

"Of course," Adora mutters. "The first Etherian near where I actually live—and there's no sign of her." Adora pulls out her necklace from beneath her shirt and grips it tight. It has a pendant with a single golden wing, it's the one possession she’s had for as long as she can remember. She's pretty sure it's from before. She runs her thumb along its edges delicately, like a prayer. “Where are you?” she asks the night air, looking up sadly. 

The night air doesn’t answer her.

Dark clouds start to fill the sky now. If there is an Etherian flying up there, somewhere, she’s perfectly hidden. Adora releases her grip on the necklace, carefully tucks it underneath her shirt, concealed from anyone who might find it strange. In her frustration she kicks an empty soda can on the sidewalk. It rattles. 

Adora takes the long way back.

She collapses onto her bed in defeat and groans once she realizes Madonna is playing—she didn’t mean to leave the radio on. 103.1 KFZ.EH is a great station for Etherian updates, but they play surprising music.

"Starlight, star bright," Madonna sings. Adora had planned on changing the station, but she decides to give in. For this song at least. Its beat is kind of catchy, and Adora has a soft spot for space related songs.

Adora unlaces her shoes, slides out of her jeans, and eyes her history books. It’s technically not too late to start studying for the exam, but she’s tired, and studying won’t fix her heartache. It won’t make her closer to leaving Earth. 

She stares at the Shot of the Dark poster in front of her. In the film, an Etherian named Mara crashes on Earth and falls for a woman named Serenia. It's a campy film with awful special effects, cheap-looking wings, and a questionably inaccurate love scene, but it's one of the few Etherian movies with a happy ending.

She ends up falling asleep with the radio still playing. She misses the interference on the channel. 

"Did you land okay?" a worried voice asks. There’s no immediate response. “Hey, can you hear me?”

"Yes, Sparkles,” an annoyed voice replies. “I'm fine.”

The most important rule of the Intergalactic Alliance is this: Earth and its quadrant are completely off limits.

Catra was well aware of this rule years before she left Etheria, and she had no plans on violating it. The last known location of She-Ra’s ship was quadrants away from Earth, anyway, there would be no point in searching for her in that area.

But two years had passed without any sign of She-Ra or her ship, so Catra went further out in space, only to find that no one had seen an existing Light Hope unit either. Catra was on Darla with Glimmer and Bow, teetering along the edges of Earth's quadrant, when Darla picked up an Etherian distress signal. It came from the last planet Catra had ever thought to check.

Glimmer and Bow agreed that they had to go find the signal's source regardless of the Alliance’s rules. As soon as they crossed into Earth's quadrant, they ran into the Star Siblings.

Which is where Catra finds herself now, aboard their ship, unsure if she’s a guest or a prisoner.

She’s run into the Star Siblings before, they’re adventurers. When Catra first met them, she was a little jealous; the three of them have been exploring galaxies recreationally, not because they’re on a mission looking for a missing princess. Since then, their encounters have always been amicable, but the air is thick with tension now. Catra would prefer not to fight them, she’s fought alongside them once before, back on a planet entirely populated by clones. The Star Siblings make a good team. So are she and Glimmer and Bow, but even with Glimmer’s natural rage and strength, she doesn’t have access to her magic in space, leaving them at a disadvantage. 

But if the Star Siblings become an obstacle, Catra won’t hesitate to test out their odds.

“You’re trying to go to Earth, aren’t you?” Tallstar asks, looking concerned. “Why?”

Catra crosses her arms. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Catra,” Bow half-whispers to her. “I think you should just”—Catra proceeds to elbow him—“tell them the truth,” he says through gritted teeth.  

Ignoring Bow, Catra says, “You have no jurisdiction to stop us. You’re just travelers, the same as us.”

“We’re not here to stop you from going to Earth,” Tallstar insists.

"Really? Because it doesn't feel that way to me," says Catra, impatient and starting to look forward to a fight. 

Starla, blonde, soft-eyed, starry-smiled Starla says, “We're here to warn you. Earth isn't like anywhere else, you'll have to keep your wings concealed. The population there is hostile towards extraterrestrials. That’s why it's forbidden for anyone to visit."

“Plus, their sun is bright,” Tallstar adds. “You can’t look directly at it, it’s not like a moon.”

(That actually is some useful information, Catra’s never been to a planet with a sun before.)

Jewelstar helpfully voices, “Going to Earth is a waste of time.”

“No, it’s not,” Catra says. The Star Siblings stare at her, and she waves her hands up in defeat. “Look, we’re on a mission. We’re looking for She-Ra, the Princess of Eternia. We picked up an Etherian distress call and traced it to Earth.”

“But She-Ra’s just a myth,” Starla says. “Isn’t she?”

Glimmer says, “She’s real, and we have to find her. She’s the reason that we’re here.”

“If She-Ra landed on Earth, she’s gone,” Jewelstar says simply. Catra stares at him wide-eyed, She-Ra’s potential death isn’t something she can accept. Jewelstar earns disapproving looks from his sisters and he sighs. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Thanks,” Catra says, jaw tight. “Anything else you’d like to say before I go and waste my time?”

Tallstar looks at her sympathetically.

“Here,” Starla says, handing her a chip. “It’s a drive with all the information we have on Earth. You should browse through it before visiting.” She frowns. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to land with a ship of that size. Do you have any smaller pods you can use?”

“Oh, visibility is not a problem,” Catra says. She nods to Melog, close enough to make Darla completely invisible.

“Oh,” Starla says. “Then yeah, you guys might actually be okay.”

“Thanks for your help,” Catra says, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “And for your warnings.”

"I hope you find her," Starla says. 

*

Catra has been to a planet where the entire ground is literally covered with lava. She’s been to one covered with dazzling pink and blue crystals. Planets where gravity barely has a pull, planets where she was so heavy she wouldn’t even bother getting off the ground if she tripped. One planet’s population had wings made out of rocks. Earth is by far the strangest planet she’s ever seen, if only because it’s so dull.

As Catra walks on one of Fright City's pitiful looking sidewalks, Starla's wish echoes in her head. Catra knows it's a small chance the signal will actually lead her to She-Ra or her ship. But Catra needs answers, she needs them badly enough she's risking her own safety to search this mundane, polluted, allegedly hostile place. 

Said place isn’t making it easy for her. 

When they got closer to Earth, Darla was able to trace the signal’s coordinates to a place called Fright City. But once they crossed Earth's atmosphere, Darla’s sensors and Bow’s tracker pad went haywire. Until Bow is able to finish repairing them, they're stuck here in Fright City without any accurate leads and locations. 

“Catra!” Glimmer says from the communicator. “I think you should come back to the ship.”

Catra knows Glimmer means well—but she just landed twenty minutes ago. Sure, she accidentally scared some poor acne ridden guy in the process, but he’ll live. It’s not her fault he’s never seen an Etherian before. Well, she should have known better than to fly on Earth after the Star Siblings had warned her to keep her wings concealed, but there were clouds coming in and it was getting dark out, she couldn't resist. The buildings in Fright City are peculiar: close to the ground, bulky, ugly. She's always been curious in nature, she wanted to get a closer look for herself. 

“Catra! Please pick up!”

Catra groans and takes the communicator out of her pocket. "I don’t think I need to go back just yet, okay?”

“Catra, Fright City residents know you're here.”

“What? How is that even possible?” Maybe she shouldn’t have underestimated the guy who saw her. 

“Um, maybe it has to do with the fact you decided to jump off Darla and fly?” Glimmer asks. “You’re all over the radio.”

Catra frowns. “I thought the radios weren’t working—”

“Right now the only signals have access to are local radio channels,” says Glimmer worriedly. “So will you please meet us back on Darla? I’ll send you the coordinates. Melog’s keeping us safe from human eyes.”

“Fine, I’ll head over once you send them.” There’s an immediate ping. “Please tell Melog not to overexert themself.” They’ve never had to make Darla invisible on other planets before. Thanks to Catra and Glimmer’s status as Etherian royalty, they’re usually given a royal welcome, and Darla gets a designated parking spot and a complimentary ship-wash. Earth is different.

Catra follows the coordinates Glimmer gave her, it’s two miles to the west. She could easily fly that distance in no time, but she doesn’t want to risk it after. The direction leads her to the woods, and she's greeted by the smell of soil and pine. She’s only been to two other planets with pine trees, she thinks she likes them. The good news is, the woods smell fresher than the rest of the town. In the file the Star Siblings had given them, there was a list of pollutants known exclusively to Earth, it was too long for Catra to finish scrolling through.

Catra can’t see Darla once she approaches it, but she senses it. Melog flickers the ship so it’s visible long enough for Catra to make it to the door, and then it’s invisible once more.

“Did you find anything?” Glimmer asks.

Catra shakes her head dejectedly and Melog rubs against her leg. “The signal is completely inaccessible. I couldn't trace anything."

“I’ll run diagnostics on Darla in the morning,” Bow says. “But it might have been a fluke.”

Catra stiffens, voice wavering as she says, “It’s not a fluke. I’ve used this ship for two years and it has never picked up a signal like this.” Melog meows in agreement. “Besides, Darla picked up an Etherian distress call, I don’t think that’s something anyone from Earth could replicate. She-Ra’s here.” I know she is, Catra wants to add, but she knows that would be taking it too far. “Or at least, her ship is.”

Bow and Glimmer look at her solemnly.

“Catra,” Glimmer says gently. “I know you want She-Ra to be here, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up in case—”

“Trust me, Sparkles, I know what the odds are.” Catra’s had good practice preparing herself. Every previous lead has led to a dead end or winged girls who dyed their hair and their feathers to match She-Ra’s description, wearing contact lenses to match her eyes. They always acted as sophisticated and formal as possible, referring to Catra as "Princess C’yra." That was never She-Ra.

But Catra doesn’t know how many more dead ends she can take. “All we know is that the signal came from somewhere within the city. In the meantime, Bow, let’s see if we can at least get your tracker pad fixed.”

Bow nods. “We’re going to have to get new clothes to blend in.” He looks down at his abs dramatically, as if his heart is breaking. “I don’t think crop tops are in fashion here.”

“I don’t think they’re in fashion anywhere,” Glimmer teases, but Catra knows she’s already privately mourning the loss of his abs once they’re covered.

“Bow’s right, and we can’t exactly walk around with holes on the back of our shirts, either.” The slits are designed for Eternians to grow and retract their wings without destroying their shirts, but they would be suspicious to regular humans.

“We can go on a shopping trip!” Glimmer says, elated. “I’ll see if we can get Darla to print out some Earth currency.” 

“It had better be a quick trip,” Catra warns. 

“Come on, Catra,” says Glimmer with a devious smile. “We’re on Earth! No one ever comes here. It’s up to us to check out as many attractions here as we can. You know, for research.” Glimmer sighs, though. “It just sucks not being able to fly.”

“Tell me about it,” Catra says, a little worn out after her two-mile walk.

Glimmer points at her, “I'm serious Catra! You are not flying on Earth again!”

Catra waves up her hands defensively. “I won’t be making that mistake twice.”

“Good,” Glimmer replies, shoulders sagging slightly in relief. “Well, on that note, I think it’s time to sleep. See you in the morning, Catra.”

Catra waves them goodnight. Glimmer and Bow technically each have their own quarters, but she knows they sleep in Glimmer’s. Intentionally on the other side of the ship, Catra has her quarters, and there’s an uninhabited room reserved for She-Ra—if they ever find her. It has old pictures, a few of the books She-Ra didn’t pack, a locked box that probably contains her diaries, and her favorite alicorn plushie. Sometimes when Catra's feeling particularly nostalgic, she'll go in there, just to be reminded of her. Tonight isn’t one of those nights.

She crawls into her bed. Melog curls up at her feet.

“Can you really sleep and keep the ship protected from human eyes at the same time?” Catra asks. She senses their answer, Yes. Catra scratches their chin. On Catra’s first solo mission into space, looking for She-Ra, she landed on Krytis, and stumbled into Melog, the last of their kind. They don’t communicate with words exactly, but they hadn’t seen an Eternian girl.

Catra suspects Melog knew how lonely she was, and knows that they’ve experienced a similar loss to She-Ra. When Catra asked if they wanted to join her search, she could feel their joy at the prospect of leaving their home planet, of having a companion again.

The same way she can sense how cooped up they're feeling right now. Melog will be able to venture outside of the ship and keep it invisible, but not far, and not for long. “I know, buddy,” Catra says. “One of these nights we’ll get you out to explore Earth. But I don’t think you’re going to like it much.”

Adora’s a child again, in a softer place. She’s surrounded by high ceilings glinting with gold and rose-red drapery. More importantly, she’s flying indoors.

Flying in front of her is a girl around her age, her wings blur before Adora’s eyes with their movement. They're dark and beautiful, they remind Adora of obsidian rock. The girl then turns around to face Adora, too far away for Adora to get a good look at her. 

“How are you this slow on foot and in the air?” the girl teases her. 

Adora's had this dream before, the girl always asks her the same question. Tonight is no different, Adora calls back to her with the same response, “You cheated!”

“So?” the girl asks.

“So, wait for me!” Adora replies. The girl laughs, and Adora feels herself smiling. “You’re no fun,” Adora tells her.

“You love me anyway,” the girl says. She’s probably right.

Adora wakes up to the sound of rainfall, and she groans. Her scars tend to ache more when it rains, and her head hurts. She lazily rolls up her curtains: outside is gray and dreary. She shuts her eyes again, trying to recall the dream, with its softer lights, its golds and reds, its laughter and warmth. 

She doesn't have this dream as often anymore, but it feels like betrayal, every time, when she wakes up unable to remember the girl's name. The biggest betrayal is that sometimes, Adora doubts the girl existed at all. It would make sense, for a girl as lonely as she was growing up, to make up a friend who had wings like she used to.

Adora rubs her left shoulder tenderly, and the sensation of phantom wings starts to fade.

“In case you missed it,” 103.1’s morning host says, shaking Adora out of her thoughts, “an Etherian was spotted outside Fright City last night. There have been multiple accounts on the color of her wings, but most folks say she had either bl—”

Adora reaches to turn the radio off immediately. She’s starting to suspect that last night’s sighting was just a hoax. Surely if an actual Etherian had landed within her proximity, Adora would have been able to sense her. Adora sits up and stretches her arms. In the dreams, stretching her wings comes just as naturally. 

After she takes her exam, which she's pretty sure she flunked, she eats a solitary breakfast in the cafeteria. When she goes back to her dorm, she turns her radio back on and switches it to a rock station. It plays The Clash as she puts on her work uniform: the bright red shirt is only slightly better than if she worked at a bowling alley, but not by much. The shirt is the same cut, but it's not striped. It's still hideous. Adora ties up her hair with her favorite pink scrunchie.

Thankfully, the rain has stopped, meaning Adora can bike to work. The air feels cleaner, fresher. Adora likes the way the smell of rain lingers on the sidewalk.

It’s as she turns right on Maple Street that finds herself flat on the wet road.

"Can you watch where you're going?" an agitated voice asks.

"Sorry," Adora says earnestly, rubbing her knee, looking at the girl on the ground next to her. Her hair is swept back in a ponytail, and she has a red band on her forehead, with a silver crescent moon on the center. "What were you doing standing in the middle of the street?"

That earns her a scoff. “I was not just standing in the middle of the street." 

Adora stands up and offers the girl a hand. Reluctantly, she takes it. As Adora pulls her up, she notices her eyes: one is amber, the other blue. They're startlingly familiar, but Adora doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone with heterochromatic eyes before. Surely she’d remember, if she had.

Against her better judgment, Adora asks, “Do I… know you from somewhere?”

“Doubtful, I'm just visiting." The girl makes eye contact with her, and she startles, yanking her hand away, Adora wasn't aware she was still holding it. 

"Sorry," Adora says again, carefully noting her outfit—she’s wearing a Joan Jett graphic t-shirt, jeans, and black Docs. It gives her a little bit of an edge—most girls in Fright City wear preppier-looking clothes.

"It's fine," the girl says curtly. 

Adora fumbles with her bike. There's something Adora wants to say to her, but she doesn't know how. The girl walks away so Adora gets back on her bike and rides to work. 

She meets Lonnie at the bike rack behind the rink. “Hey,” Adora says, locking her bike.

“Hey yourself,” Lonnie says. “You missed out last night.”

Adora frowns. “How so?” It’s not the first time she’s missed one of Rogelio’s parties. She knows they don’t usually get too crazy, but the stories she hears sometimes makes her grateful she doesn’t usually go. “Did Kyle throw up on someone again?”

“No,” Lonnie laughs. “Did you hear about the Etherian last night?”

“No.” The lie comes out easily. Adora’s had to conceal her interest in Etherians for a long time, to play it safe. She’s never wanted to risk those men from the black vans to materialize before her, to start questioning her again. 

Unfazed, Lonnie says. “Kyle saw her.”

Adora drops her helmet. “What?”

*

Inside, Whitney Houston plays on the radio. The skate rink is currently empty, aside from her and Lonnie, and their manager hiding in the office. They open to the public at twelve, but people don’t usually show up till after three. Since summer break technically starts today, they can expect it to get packed later. 

“So let me get this straight,” Adora says, probably for the hundredth time. “Kyle took a smoke break last night, even though he doesn’t smoke, and he saw an Etherian? Here? Right outside Fright Rink?”

“That’s what he told me,” Lonnie says neutrally. “I have to admit I didn’t think you’d be this interested.”

“I’m not that interested,” Adora replies. “It’s just so crazy that happened to Kyle. I didn’t even think Etherians were real,” she lies, for good measure.

“If it helps, I’m not totally sure I believe Kyle, but he was really shaken up about it. I’ve never seen him so freaked out by anything before. And I saw A Nightmare on Elm Street with him in theaters.” Lonnie shrugs. “I’m gonna take a break now.”

It’s only 12:15, but if they get swamped later, they're not going to have time for an actual break.

Presently, all Adora can do is to try to stay calm. There was an Etherian here, where she works. If Kyle really saw her, that means she's not a hoax, she's real and maybe... maybe it's not impossible for the same Etherian to show up here again in the next few days. Adora isn’t closing tonight, but it’s Friday. She could hang out on her spot on the roof for a few hours, watching the sky for the faintest trace of wings. 

Adora sighs, leaning down and propping her elbow on the counter. She doesn’t even know what she’d say to an Etherian if she met one. Would they know she’s not human, even without her wings? Would they want to take her back?

Lost in thought, she misses the squeak of the door opening, until a person is walking directly towards her.

"You again? Seriously?" a voice asks.

It's the same girl she ran into earlier, only, she's not alone. To her left is a girl with the pinkest Adora's ever seen. It looks like it’s either been professionally done, or it’s a wig. But it looks too real to be a wig. The boy to her right looks like some of his hair might be dyed purple, but the lighting in the rink makes it too difficult to tell for sure.

"Catra!" the pink haired girl chides her. "Don't be rude." 

Crossing her arms, Catra says, "I'm not being rude. She hit me with her car earlier!" 

"It was my bike, actually," Adora corrects, not wanting her friends to get the wrong idea.

"Catra," the guy says with a tone he’s probably used countless times. "You need to be more careful." Turning to face Adora, he smiles. "I'm Bow by the way, the reckless one is Catra, and this is Glimmer." 

"I'm Adora," she says, finding herself smiling back. Eyeing Glimmer, Adora realizes her hair is pinker and somehow even more sparkly up close. “Wow. Your hair is so pink. Your parents let you dye it? That’s so cool!"

Catra makes a strange sound, like she’s trying not to laugh. 

“Uh, thanks,” Glimmer says, her voice a little tense. “My parents are so… cool that way.”

"So," Adora says, undeterred. "How can I help you? Are you all here to skate?"

She’s met with blank stares, and Catra focuses on the wall of skates behind her. She says something under her breath, but Adora can’t quite catch it.

“No thanks,” Bow eventually says. He pulls out a map, “Is this up to date?” he asks.

“Uh,” Adora says. She scans it quickly. Fright City has never been a big touristy place, and even when tourists do stop by, they don't usually make their way to the rink.

The map is almost accurate. The back road leading to the lab is missing, and Adora feels cold. She's not positive the lab is where she was held, where they took her wings, but she's fairly certain that was the place. “It’s got everything except the road leading to the lab,” Adora says. “Which would be right here,” she says, pointing to the spot.

“The lab?” Catra asks, sounding genuinely interested in what Adora has to say now. 

“Yeah, the Fright City National Lab,” Adora says. “It got shut down a few years ago, so that’s probably why the road’s not there. But other than that, the map seems accurate. Do you need directions to anywhere specifically or—”

"We're good, thanks," Catra says, turning to leave and pulling Glimmer along with her.

"Sorry about her," Bow says. 

“No problem,” Adora says.

Bow thanks her for the help, and leaves. Adora watches the three walk out the building.

“What was their deal?” Lonnie asks once she gets back.

"Out of towners," Adora says. 

"Weird," Lonnie says. 

“Agreed.” Fright City doesn’t get many tourists, and something about the three who came in didn’t exactly fit the profile. 

A Belinda Carlisle song starts playing and Adora smiles, humming along to it. The lyrics to the song are dreamy, and Adora's been fond of the image of heaven; Earth’s depictions of angels and their wings remind her of Etherians.

After doing all of her Friday tasks (deep cleaning the counters, making sure the skates are all in the right size slot) Adora takes a break. She goes outside, towards the back and climbs up to the roof. It’s an easy climb, and her manager and coworkers have never caught her there. She gets out her portable radio from her backpack and lets herself listen to it and enjoy it. 

Back at the counter, Adora anxiously waits for Kyle to get here—all she wants is to ask him questions about the Etherian. 

It's as the rink starts to get crowded that their manager approaches them. “Kyle called out,” their manager says. “Said something about being too afraid to show up tonight.”

Adora sighs. She knows it must be because of the Etherian. She looks at Lonnie who's giving her pleading eyes. It's Friday, and Lonnie's far more social than she is. Adora will still be able to hang out on the roof after the shift ends. Plus, she'll get paid overtime. 

"I'll help close," Adora offers. Lonnie mouths, Thank you.

Catra regrets wearing the black shirt she bought—Earth is hot with all the sunlight. Tallstar wasn't kidding when she talked about how bright it was during the day. Currently, Glimmer and Bow are inside a shop searching for an Earth accessory called sunglasses. Catra would have joined them, but she's found herself unable to set her tracker pad down. Bow had suggested that all the signals on Earth are creating too much noise for their technology to focus on only one signal, but Catra doubts that's true. She thinks someone is intentionally jamming the signal, the same someone who would know where She-Ra's ship is. 

Catra puts her tracker pad back into her pocket (and really, pants made for Earth women are not sufficient) and then the next thing she knows, she's on the ground. Landing on asphalt hurts.

She glares at the girl who tried to run her over, she's wearing the most hideously red shirt she's ever seen. She asks, "Can you watch where you're going?" 

The girl apologizes and helps her up. That gives her some points. Catra brushes off her pants and the girl asks, “Do I… know you from somewhere?”

“Doubtful, I'm just visiting," Catra says without so much as glancing at her. And then she makes the mistake of doing just that. 

It's not that the world stops. It's just that Catra has been searching for those same pale blue eyes on every planet she visits. Until now, no one had ever come close. And Catra’s not strong enough to make herself look away. 

Until Catra realizes that this girl is still holding her hand, so Catra pulls it away, afraid. 

"Sorry," the girl says. 

"It's fine," Catra says, head racing as she tries to remember what She-Ra looked like. It's different, with the girl before her. Wouldn't she recognize her right away? Wouldn't She-Ra recognize her, too? Surely She-Ra’s eyes wouldn’t belong to a girl clumsy enough to run her over. 

Startled, Catra heads towards the shop Glimmer and Bow are in. She-Ra would be clumsy enough to run her over. 

*

Instinct and familiarity are what bring Catra back to Fright Rink—the building where she accidentally scared that guy. Catra was initially curious about it because the building would be large enough to store an entire spaceship; most buildings in the area are too small for that. 

Catra should have known her luck would be into running into the blonde girl with She-Ra’s eyes again. And Catra knows she isn't making it up: her name is Adora, and she does have a striking resemblance to She-Ra. It’s terrifying how similar she looks—but Catra can’t let it get to her. It’s true, if She-Ra was here disguised as a human on Earth her wings would be concealed. But she would know Catra, or at least recognize Glimmer or Bow.  

"Is it just me," Glimmer asks once they walk out of the rink, "or did Adora sort of remind you of She-Ra?"

"There are a lot of blonde girls with blue eyes here on Earth," Catra points out. "And besides, She-Ra would have known who we are."

"I mean, it's been a long time, Catra—"

"Can we just focus on getting to the lab, please?

*

It’s not that hard to find the hidden road leading towards somewhere deep within the woods. It looks like it hasn't been used in years, it's covered with fallen foliage, most people passing by might not notice it's there at all. 

“Are we really just going into the forest because a local told us about an abandoned lab?” Glimmer asks.

“The road was kept off the map for a reason,” Catra says.

“And the lab was abandoned for a reason,” Glimmer counters.

“Exactly. Don’t you think we should find out why?” Catra asks.

"Or we could go to Fright City's library instead," Bow suggests. He must be getting desperate if he wants to go to a library on another planet. He typically tries to avoid them, considering his fathers had wanted him to be a librarian, not a space-explorer. But thanks to them, he does have the experience to find information that doesn't want to be found. "We can find out more about Fright City and the lab over there.” 

“I’m going to see what's at the end of this road,” Catra says. “But searching the library is a good idea, it could help lead us somewhere if I don't find anything at the lab. And maybe they have archives on Etherians. Something that would indicate where one would be if she landed on Earth.” 

Glimmer bounces on her feet. “I don’t think you should go there by yourself, so I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, Sparkles,” Catra says. To Bow, she says, “We’ll check in on our communicators, okay?”

Glimmer and Bow hug, Bow makes his way back into town, and Catra and Glimmer step onto the leaf littered road. It’s a long walk. When Adora had said in the middle of the woods, Catra hadn't expected it to go this far. 

Eventually, they meet a fenced area and a huge, abandoned building. Entrapta would love it. Catra wishes she could have come this time, she’s joined her on past voyages to space, but Entrapta likes staying in Dryl, focusing on what she can get done there, going over all the data she gets when Catra comes back.

There’s a chimney with no smoke, an empty parking lot, boarded windows, and boarded doors. But Catra spies what appear to be cameras next to the doors. “Why would a science lab need this much surveillance?” Catra asks. “It’s already in the middle of nowhere.”

“It might have been a cover up,” Glimmer says.

“But for what?” Catra asks.

Together, the two of them are able to break down a door. Catra pulls up her tracker pad, hoping if the signal is coming from here, it will be clear, traceable. The tracker pad searches, glitches, and searches again. “The glitch is new,” Catra says. “There might still be something here.”

“The building’s definitely big enough to hide a spaceship,” Glimmer says. “Or, whatever’s left of it,” she adds reluctantly.

“If it was here, there’d be records of it, somewhere. There’d be records of She-Ra, too.” Catra feels like she’s going to pass out. She’s never been so close to finding her before.

But the entire building is empty. There’s dust and scattered scraps of paper with graphs and charts that don’t make any sense to Catra, none of them seem connected to Etherians.

The largest area would have been big enough for the ship She-Ra traveled in. There are large scrapes on the floor, but they could have come from anything.

“The building has existed for a while,” Bow says from the communicator. “And they shut down the lab eight years ago.”

“That’s when She-Ra’s ship would have landed,” Catra says. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

"Reports say there was some sort of meltdown,” Bow continues. "Do you guys see anything indicating something like that?"

"It looks like it was just completely evacuated," Catra says. "There's hardly any damage—just some markings on the floor."

“Catra,” Glimmer says. “What do you think happened here?”

“I'm not sure, but whatever it was, it had to be connected to She-Ra or her ship.”

“Did you two find anything that could have been sending the signal?”

Glimmer says, “No, not yet.”

“They swept this place clean,” Catra says. “Either—either she was here and they relocated the ship or—”

“Or she didn’t survive,” Glimmer says.

*

Ever the optimist, back on Darla, Bow says, “We’ll search again tomorrow. I couldn’t find anything that useful about Etherians in the library—only a few adult novels and trashy sounding movies—but I looked for buildings that were being built around eight years ago and the mall had some interesting renovations—”

“I don’t think She-Ra's in Fright City,” Catra says.

“But the signal—”

“We can’t trace it!” Catra reminds them. Melog looks up at her, their mane isn’t red with anger, it’s almost transparent, empty. “It’s probably just left over. Or maybe it was a fluke.”

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Glimmer asks. 

"It doesn't matter what I believe. There's no evidence that can point us to anywhere."

Bow interjects, "But it is suspicious that the lab shut down the same year—"

"It's not enough," Catra says. "I was wrong."

"Catra, it's too soon to—"

“Whatever, I need some air,” she says.

*

Catra doesn't intentionally go back to the Fright Rink, but she ends up wandering over there. It’s more crowded than it was last night. She finds herself on the roof, watching the sunset.

The sun is barely out, leaving the sky pink and orange. It's not the same as a Halfmoon moonset, but it's still impressive, being her first sunset.

The problem is, Catra has never given too much thought on what she imagines She-Ra to look like now, the thing she can imagine the most clearly is her set of wings, how they must be bigger now, how graceful she’d fly. But alarmingly, when she tries to picture She-Ra, all she can see is Adora, a stranger she's only met today.

She reaches for the necklace She-Ra made for her, kept hidden beneath her shirt. It makes her sad to look at, but she never goes a day without wearing it. 

Catra loses track of time. The sky grows dark, uncertain. 

"What are you doing up here?" a voice asks from behind her.

And Catra should have known that she couldn't stay here unnoticed for long. 

Catra tucks her necklace back under her shirt and looks over her shoulder to find Adora: lips pursed, holding an item that Catra's pretty sure is called a radio. Really, Catra should have known. It's the third time she's ran into Adora today, she supposes that's the nature of small Earth cities. Staring at annoying, beautiful, human Adora, Catra raises an eyebrow and asks, "What are you doing up here?"

"Me? I work here. I'm allowed to be on the roof," Adora says. 

Somehow, Catra doubts that's true, so she smirks at her. "Sure you are," she says.

Adora hesitates, and to Catra's surprise, she sits right next to her. Catra grabs the radio from her curiously, running her fingers over its buttons, and pokes at its antenna. Its material is a lot cheaper than what they use back on Etheria. "Well," Catra says, handing it back, "don't let me stop you from doing whatever it was you came here to do." 

Adora turns it on. It's staticky, Entrapta could probably fix that just by looking at it. 

“Keep an eye on the open sky tonight, folks,” the radio host says. “Chances are slim, but you might be able to spot an Etherian tonight.”

Catra wasn't expecting that. In a poor attempt to distract her, Catra asks, “So, Adora, you just climb up here and listen to people talk about Etherians?"

“Something like that,” Adora says. “This spot has a nice view of the sunset, too. Probably one of the best views in all of Fright City.”

"Yeah," Catra says. "I noticed.”

“You never answered my question," Adora points out. 

Catra tries not to get lost in the loveliness of her eyes, tries not to think about who they remind her of. It’s not exactly as if Catra can shut out all thoughts about She-Ra, considering she’s spent the past two years in space looking for her, without a single trail. Until now. Maybe she brushed off Glimmer’s point too quickly, maybe she didn’t want to accept that She-Ra had forgotten her. 

So Catra adverts her eyes, looking at the sky. "I wanted to watch the sunset. And I needed some space."

Some people might take this as a hint to leave her alone. Adora doesn’t. "Oh," Adora says. "I get that. Third-wheeling is no fun." That is an understatement. "How long are you going to be staying in town for?" she asks.

The question surprises her, she’s not sure how long they’ll stay, but Catra smiles at Adora’s apparent interest. “Why? Do you want to show me around?”

“If you’re interested—sure—but there’s not that much to see here. This whole town is a dump," Adora says.

Catra laughs at that, to Adora’s dismay. She stares at Catra, not quite shocked, but not sure how to react either. In Catra’s defense, Earth hasn't been a particularly nice planet. “Sorry,” Catra says. “Just, from what I’ve seen so far, that makes sense.”

“What brings you to Fright City, anyway?” Adora asks. Catra doesn't know how to answer that, she wasn't prepared to talk to a local this much. Usually Glimmer and Bow do most of the talking. "You don't have to say anything," Adora says gently, filling in the silence.

"No, it's fine. I'm just not here under normal circumstances," Catra says. 

"Neither am I," Adora says. Catra glances back at her, Adora's eyes are on the sky.

The roof’s only conversation now comes from the radio. If Catra thinks it’s strange, she doesn’t comment on it. Catra keeps poking glances at her, but Adora doesn’t take her eyes off the sky, unlike last night, it remains clear.

Adora has come to a few realizations. The first being, she’s not going to see an Etherian tonight. This is standard, albeit disappointing. She supposes she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up so high, but she still thinks the universe is messing with her when Kyle of all people got to see an Etherian and she didn’t.

The second thing is, Catra isn’t getting off this roof in the foreseeable future. She had seemed annoyed when Adora joined her, but not annoyed enough to leave.

The third is, Adora doesn’t mind. Sure, Adora hadn’t anticipated running into a stranger three times in one day, and Catra isn’t the friendliest person on the planet, but she’s not bad company either. Adora finds herself drawn to her inexplicably, Catra had said she’s never been to Fright City before, and Adora has to wonder if she’s lying.

Besides, there’s a sadness clinging to Catra; Adora recognizes it. It’s longing.

Adora’s whole body is exhausted after working a double, and her sore feet are going to kill her for what she’s about to suggest—but it’s important. She can tell. “Hey,” Adora says, bumping Catra’s shoulder gently. “I have an idea that might cheer you up.”

Catra eyes her warily. Part of Adora's convinced Catra will just scoff at her, insult her, and leave, but the other part tells her that this is something Catra actually needs. "Lay it on me," Catra says. 

“I was thinking that since you didn't skate earlier, it might be fun for you to skate now. You know, since we're closed, we'd have the whole rink to ourselves." It's a bold suggestion, she's never stayed to skate after the rink was closed to the public, but she knows that Lonnie and Kyle have. 

"What, are you saying we should just sneak in?" Catra asks, eyebrows raised.

"It's not really sneaking in if I have the keys," Adora points out.

"Don't ruin the thrill of it all," Catra drawls. Her lips twitch into a half-smile. “You do this for all the girls?”

“What?” Adora asks, shocked by the implication, which isn't too far off, but she's never been this forward with another girl before. She’s never even sat on this roof with anyone else. "No, I've never—"

That earns her a genuine laugh from Catra, it’s a light sound. “I’m just messing with you. I'd love to give roller skating a try."

"You've never done it before?"

Catra shrugs. "It's not exactly a big recreational activity where I'm from," she explains.

That’s surprising, Adora had thought it was pretty common, so she asks, “Where are you from?” 

Catra's gaze is far away. “Let’s not get too personal, okay? I'm trying to keep my mind off things.”

“Okay,” Adora says.

But Catra smiles at her anyway. 

Something shifts in the air, Adora can feel it, the same way she can feel summer sticking to her skin. “Lead the way,” Catra says.

*

Adora has the keys, that wasn't a lie, but it does feel like she's sneaking in. She doesn't think she'd get in that much trouble if her manager finds out, but Catra's excitement will make it worth it anyway, she thinks. It's silly, but it’s exciting. Adora never sees the rink this dark and empty, so she turns on the disco lights. She lowers the volume for the speakers and sets the radio to her favorite music station.

She grabs her own pair of skates from her locker and helps Catra find the cleanest pair her size “Here you are,” she says, trying to hold back her laughter as Catra not-so-subtly wrinkles her nose. “It’ll be fine,” she says.

“If you say so,” Catra replies.

Once they’re both laced up, Adora says, “Alright, the main trick is just to stay balanced and—” she falters as she sees Catra slowly skate to the rink, not wobbling as much as Adora had expected for a beginner. "Are you sure you've never skated before? Or were you just messing with me?" Adora asks. 

"You said it's mostly about balance, right?"

"Right," Adora says skeptically, sliding onto the rink herself. 

“It’s not that hard,” Catra says with a grin, like she’s keeping a secret. Catra winks, and bolts off, skating scarily fast.

Adora follows her, waiting for Catra to fall. But she doesn't fall, she moves with a grace that Adora doesn't usually see in roller skaters. Catra laughs, and Adora can't tell if it's because she's undoubtedly gawking at her, or if Catra's just that happy, but Adora finds herself laughing too. She had intended to cheer Catra up, but she finds herself feeling lighter and happier than she has in a long time. 

She can't even remember the last time she skated for fun, she had missed the vibration underneath her feet, the way she never moves this fast unless she's riding her bike. But skating is the closest thing she's found to flying during her time on Earth. When she was younger, she would see how fast she could move her feet, pretending she could soon spread her wings and—

"Hey, Adora?" Catra asks, slowing down to skate at Adora’s pace. "Thanks," she says, averting her eyes. “I think I really needed this tonight.”

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I think I really needed this, too.”

Catra meets her eyes and Adora holds her breath. She knows that Catra's a total stranger, but there is a familiarity in those gleaming heterochromatic eyes. The radio then starts to play one of The Cure’s latest singles. It's a song Adora's fond of, sad and romantic and full of regret.

"Bet you I can do a lap faster than you," says Catra. A challenge, a dare, as if she knows Adora can’t resist.

“I'd like to see you try," Adora says. 

“Whenever I'm alone with you,” the song goes, “you make me feel like I am home again.” Adora tries to tune out the lyrics, to concentrate on moving faster than Catra (which she knows she can do) but something changes, something falls into place. She slows down, letting her wheels roll forward without completely stopping.

“Come on,” Catra taunts, speeding past her, elated in her apparent victory. “Don’t you work here? I can’t believe you’re this slow.” Catra laughs.

And it’s an echo. An echo of a dream. Only it’s not a dream, Adora realizes it’s a memory. She's certain of it now. Kyle saw the Etherian in this area last night, and Catra has shown up here twice. 

Adora skates to the railing, holding on to it for balance. Her head is spinning. She hears wheels roll towards her cautiously.

“Adora?” Catra asks.

Adora turns away to face her—and it’s the blue and amber—it’s the freckles—it’s the earnest look she’s wearing. “There’s something I want to say,” she admits slowly. “But I’m not sure you’ll believe me.”

Catra’s breath hitches. “Try me,” she says, barely audible.

“Do you know me?” Adora asks.

“Like I said before, I've never been to Fright City until now. But it's not impossible that we know each other,” Catra says, skating closer to her. “Where do you think I know you from?”

Adora shuts her eyes. “From beyond the stars,” Light Hope had once called her. It was true from before, on Etheria, and it’s true now, here on Earth. That’s Adora, isn’t it? The girl who’s always from somewhere else, missing something. Missing someone.

Her eyes flutter open and there are only heartbeats between her and Catra. A few feet, as opposed to light years. No. They can travel faster than the speed of light. Adora remembers now. How fast their ways of travel are, allowing them to cross galaxies easily. The scientists here on Earth could never comprehend it, but Adora has lived it. 

“Catra,” she says, her name carrying so much weight now. It makes sense that she’s kept her nickname, all these years later. Catra looks at her patiently, seeming to understand that something in her mind has altered, leaving Adora almost paralyzed, terrified of being wrong. But everything has led up to this point, hasn’t it? She can’t be wrong, not with her memories returning to her. “But your real name is C’yra,” Adora recalls. “And you hate it. At least, you used to.”

Catra grins at her. “I always thought C’yra was too formal,” says Catra, only a breath away now. “Do you remember yours?”

Adora shakes her head. “There’s a lot that’s still… fuzzy. I remember red lightning more clearly than anything else."

Catra looks at her sadly, as if she failed her. “Your real name is She-Ra, you’re the Princess of Eternia.”

"I need to sit down," Adora says. Catra helps her over to one of the benches. Neither of them speaks as Adora takes a sudden interest in untying her skates as slowly as possible, kicking them off her feet brusquely, very un-princess like.

She hadn't remembered being the princess of anything, but it comes back to her in fragments. How she’s already lost everything—her family, kingdom, planet. And then her wings and memory.

She glances at Catra and it hits her—she hasn’t lost everything.

Adora remembers Glimmer and Bow, from before. Glimmer’s hair has never been dyed, it’s naturally pink. She flushes when she recalls their conversation earlier. It’s so embarrassing and comforting at the same time that Adora laughs so hard she snorts.

Catra sputters, “She-Ra? Adora? Are you okay?” Her laughter subsides. “Well, as okay as you can be,” Catra adds.

Eventually, Adora says, "I think I like Adora better.”

“Yeah.” Catra nods. “Me, too. It suits you. It’s softer, in a way.”

They sit in silence. One of Cyndi Lauper’s slower songs plays on the radio. Adora pulls out her necklace from beneath her shirt.

Catra does the same, half-whispering, “You gave it to me the night before you left.”

Adora recollects how long it took her to make them, using Etherian gold was probably a mistake, but it lasted, durable. “Have you been wearing yours all this time?”

“Of course I did,” Catra says simply.

“It’s the only thing I was able to keep, from before,” says Adora. She allows the necklace to sit on her chest, exposed. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of it now. “How did you find me?”

“We picked up an Etherian distress call, it led us here.”

Adora considers this. She doesn’t know what happened to the ship that brought her here, she had assumed it was destroyed when they crashed. But if part of it was salvaged, it could still be sending out the call Light Hope made. “Did you find the source?” Adora asks. Catra shakes her head. “We need to find it and turn off the transmission. I don’t want it to lead anyone else here, Earth is dangerous.”

“We’ll find it,” Catra assures her. “Adora, I’m sorry we took so long to find you I—”

“It’s okay,” Adora says, leaning forward to grip her hands. “I’m just glad you’re here, now. I was worried—”

“That we’d never show at all?”

“That, or that I made it up. I could barely remember anything about my past. You showed up and triggered it somehow.”

“How could you have made it up?” Catra asks concerned, not judgmentally. “No one else here has wings.”

And of course. Catra doesn’t even know. How could she know? “Neither do I,” Adora tells her, looking down.

Catra gasps. “What—”

Adora stands up and lifts her shirt off, and flushes once she meets eye contact with Catra, who is also gaping at her. “I—” Adora starts, before turning around. Catra’s eyes burn into her back.

“When did it happen?” Catra asks, voice shaky.

Adora rolls her shirt back down. “Not long after I landed here,” she says. “So please, Catra, there’s nothing you could have done to prevent this. I’m just glad you found me now.”

For the past eight years, Catra has considered many possibilities. That searching for other Eternians was a carefully constructed lie, and Light Hope was taking She-Ra away for good. That they got sucked into a portal or a black hole. That their ship malfunctioned. That they crashed on an uninhabited planet and weren't able to fly back. That they found a paradise planet and never wanted to leave. 

Catra had never considered that She-Ra's wings would have been forcefully removed, that she would live the rest of her life as a human, trapped on a planet nobody was supposed to venture to. Every alert and posting Catra had sent out never mattered—they were focused on She-Ra's wings, which she lost eight years ago. 

She's at a complete loss for words, she'll never be able to make up for this. She knew it was a bad idea for She-Ra to leave Etheria in the first place, and she should have fought harder to make her stay. If she had—maybe none of this would have ever happened. 

“Catra?” Adora asks, sitting right next to her. Their thighs touch. And the name really does fit her, it's lovely, like she is. 

“I’m sorry,” Catra eventually says, tears starting to build up. “I’m glad I found you now, too.”

“What happens now?” Adora asks.

Catra rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m supposed to take you home.”

Adora snorts. “Well, now that's just presumptuous," she jokes.

“Not like that, dummy,” Catra jokes back. She frowns, unsure if it’s okay to call her “dummy,” it was an old childhood nickname, and they’re far from children now. But Adora doesn’t look too bothered by it. “You still have a place, back in Halfmoon. Assuming you want to go back to Halfmoon, or Etheria at all.”

Adora sits up straighter. “Of course I want to go back to Etheria. That’s all I’ve ever wanted since I remember wanting anything. How soon can we leave?”

Catra stifles a laugh. "We can leave tonight. Right now, if you want." Adora's eyes light up. She half-jumps off the bench, runs to the counter. "What are you doing?" Catra calls after her, projecting because the song currently playing is loud and—Adora turns the speakers off, as well as the rotating lights.

"I'm writing a goodbye letter," Adora explains. Her brow furrows. "It's more of a note, I guess, I can't exactly tell them the whole truth now, can I?" There's a smile tugging at her lips, an excitement Catra thought she might never see again. "Alright," Adora says, once she’s satisfied with the note. "I just need to stop by my dorm and then I'm all set for takeoff."

"How far is your dorm?" Catra asks. Ideally, she would just fly them both over, but she knows better than to risk being caught by human eyes, now that she's actually found Adora. 

"It's not too far, I've got my bike out back. There's room on it for you. I'll get us both over there."

By room, Adora means that Catra will sit on the actual seat while Adora hovers over the crossbar. It doesn’t look very comfortable. “You sure about this?” Catra asks.

“I’ve got this,” Adora says. “Can you keep yourself balanced?”

Catra laughs. “Yeah, it’s uh, pretty easy to do when you imagine your wings keeping you steady.”

Adora looks over her shoulder. “So that’s how you were so good at skating.”

“Imagine if I actually had my wings out, I’d be unstoppable.” She pauses, worried that she’s being insensitive—

“Hey, it’s fine,” Adora says. “I’m going to have to get used to being surrounded by wings eventually, right?”

“Yeah,” Catra says quietly.

“Brace yourself,” Adora says.

It’s not as bad as Catra had expected. Adora keeps them steady, taking them through Fright City’s streets and neighborhoods. It’s cooler now, at night. Maybe bike rides are fun, or they would be, if they weren’t so pressed for time. A part of her is sad they’re leaving tonight—she’d like the chance to see all of Adora’s favorite places here in Fright City.

The dormitory building is especially ugly and faded compared to the rest of campus. Its interior is even worse, with sad dark wood paneling and bulletin boards with flyers that look like they’re going to fall apart. Adora’s room is even tinier than Catra had expected. She couldn’t imagine living here even without her wings taking up space.

“This is where you've been living for the past eight years?" Catra asks. She eyes the few decorations on the wall, most are paper cutouts of women.

"Not all of them. I was living in foster care till college," Adora says. She stuffs her bag with tape cassettes and books and batteries.

Catra pokes around the dorm. A map on her desk shouts for her attention. There are red circles over several cities, with Adora’s scrawled Etherian? notes next to them.

“You’ve been keeping track,” Catra says, guilt finding its way all over her. She looks over at Adora, rolling a few of her shirts up in the same careful manner as years ago. Catra blinks away her déjà vu.

“I don’t know how many of them were real,” Adora says. “Earth’s forbidden, right? I can’t believe I’ve forgotten that.” She rubs her back. “I think that’s for the best,” she adds.

"Is there anything I can do to help you pack?" Catra asks. 

"What, like you’re actually going to help?" Adora teases, with a smirk. 

"Maybe I will,” Catra says. 

Adora’s smirk turns into a grin. "Don't worry, that's everything, I think." She zips up her backpack with a satisfying zip. 

“Catra?” Glimmer’s voice picks up on the communicator. “You have to answer me, it’s an emergency! They know!”

“Where’s that coming from?” Adora asks, startled.

“It’s Glimmer,” Catra says, pulling out the device. “What’s going on?” she asks her.

“I think whoever ran the lab was still keeping tabs on it. They know we were there, somehow. Maybe those cameras were still active—I don’t know! But they’re heading your way!”

“That doesn't make any sense who—”

“It’s the black vans,” Adora answers. “They’ve been keeping an eye on me since I was a kid. I think they’re from the government, but it doesn’t matter. They must have realized the two of us came here together. They know you’re an Etherian too.”

Catra tries to process this. “They know where your ship is,” Catra says. “We need to find it so we can turn off the distress call, so it doesn’t lead anyone else down to Earth—”

“To meet the same fate I did,” Adora finishes for her. “We’ll find it, but we’ll get back to your ship first. We have to get out of here.” Adora grabs her hand. “Come on, we’ll take my bike to the ship.”

“That won't be fast enough," Catra says. "But I have a better idea. Do you trust me?” Adora nods. “Hey, Sparkles? You hear all that?”

“Yes,” Sparkles replies.

“Good. I’m going to fly with Adora and meet you.”

“Be careful,” Glimmer says.

“Always am,” Catra mutters to herself.

Outside in the parking lot, Catra can hear the sound of vehicles approaching. Their tires screech with all of their sharp turns. 

“Are you sure you can fly and carry me at the same time?” Adora asks.

Catra rolls her eyes. “I’m stronger than I look, trust me on this,” Catra says. She feels a little bad about tearing holes in the back of the one Earth-shirt she bought, but they don’t have much of a choice. The fabric rips as her wings poke through. Adora gasps. “Are you okay?” Catra asks worriedly.

“Yeah, it’s just, been awhile since I got to see anyone’s wings up close,” she says, eyes full of wonder, as if she didn’t fully believe Catra had wings until now.

The black vans are visible now, getting close.

Carefully, Catra takes Adora in her arms and she bolts up into the air off. There are search lights flickering all around them and then—then there is an overwhelming electrical sensation and Catra is falling.

When Adora wakes up, she's alone in a room unfamiliar to her, with ugly, concrete-colored walls. It hits her: this isn't the same place she was kept at, but it’s run by the same people. The Fright City Lab might have been abandoned, and they simply moved their base here, wherever here is. This time, Adora doesn't have wings to lose, but Catra does.

She sits up in a daze, and after blinking, she realizes she's not alone, there's a pair of eerie green eyes looking at her like she's a specimen, something under a microscope. He's one of the men who questioned her before. 

Bitterly, Adora asks, “Where is she?”

“The procedure is getting started as we speak,” the man says. 

“No,” Adora says. “You’re not going to do to her what you did to me.”

"Ah," he says, relaxed, unthreatened. “So it seems we failed with your memory. I had thought you were too old to be kept alive but there are certain rules we must follow when it comes to taking care of Etherians.” He says Etherians as if he's saying monster, demon. 

"Why remove our wings at all?" Adora asks. "When you could just send us back?"

"Why should we bother? It's not as if we wanted you to come to Earth in the first place." 

"Just let us leave," Adora begs. "She came to get me, so we can go back to our planet. Let us go and you'll never see another Etherian again."

"That's a risk we can't afford to take," the man says. 

Then the door bursts open, Glimmer and Bow walk in, wings out—dazzling pinks and purples and browns. So much for never seeing another Etherian again, Adora thinks. 

Glimmer promptly hits the green-eyed man in the head with a staff Adora's certain she's seen once before. Starting at Glimmer's wings, it slowly comes back to her, pink, glittery, hazy memories of laughter and magic. Real magic. How Adora could have forgotten it at all breaks her heart.

“Do you know where they’re keeping Catra?” Glimmer asks.

“Somewhere in this building,” Adora says. “Where are we? The lab was abandoned—”

“It’s a base underneath the mall,” Bow says.

Not like Adora has time to question that right now, but that's good—he's familiar with where the mall is. That will make it easier to escape once she finds Catra. “You guys have to get out of here now, while you can.”

“But Catra—”

“They’re going to take her wings away,” Adora says. “Just like they took mine.”

Glimmer and Bow freeze. “You are She-Ra, aren’t you,” Glimmer says.

Adora nods. “I used to be,” she says.

Glimmer parts her mouth to speak, but Adora stops her. "I'll explain as much as I can later, okay? I have to be the one to get Catra out. I can't risk them trying to take your wings away." 

"Okay," Bow says. "But take this," he hands her a communicator, the same prototype as what Catra was using earlier. "That way we can stay in contact.”

"Thank you," Adora says. She pulls them both into a hug and spots her backpack on a chair. Score. She parts from Glimmer and Bow, they start running to the left—the exit, she supposes. Adora grabs her backpack and sprints down the hallway to her right.

It's entirely instinct. She can't afford to be wrong. She's grown used to a life without her wings—she doesn't want Catra to suffer the same way she has. But she swears it, she can sense Catra.

And for as important and secret this base is supposed to be, their security is awful. The door to the room Catra's in isn't even locked. She's there—strapped to a table on her stomach, wings and hands bound. Her wings flutter in their restraints limply. 

"Hey, Adora," she says woozily. "This is a little embarrassing for me—I came to Earth to rescue you."

"You're really going to joke at a time like this?" Adora asks. 

"Might as well," Catra says. 

"Don't worry," Adora says. "I'm going to get you out of here." Adora unties her, and frees her wings. "Can you stand?" She doesn't know why she asked. Catra’s too weak from whatever sedatives they used—the same one they used on Adora years ago, she recalls. She was awake during the procedure; she didn't feel anything except a dissolving loss.

So Adora carries her. She carries her and runs for it. Catra's going to be fine, they won't take her wings away. Somehow, she finds the exit, she makes it to the elevator. She keeps going up. She doesn't know why, but she knows that's where she has to go. She ends up in back office, she looks out the window—there are men running and flashlights scattering about in every direction except for up. 

Adora sets Catra gently down. Her shoulder blades tingle. The tingle grows into something warm, something slightly heavier than gossamer. 

Catra gasps. "You have wings again," she says in awe. 

Adora turns to her side to face them—bright and real and—she doesn't have time to marvel. "We're really getting out of here," she says. 

She picks up Catra, who wraps her arms around Adora's neck. 

"I hope you haven’t forgotten how to fly," Catra says, dryly.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Adora says, with a frown.

“Any time,” Catra replies.

Adora laughs, squeezes her a little tighter. Adora scans the night sky. “Where’s the ship?” she asks.

“Northeast of here.” Catra winces. “Once we get closer it should reveal itself to you.”

“Got it,” Adora says. She breaks open the window and she leaps. And it feels good. Her wings stretch, move themselves. She hasn’t forgotten how to fly at all.

*

“It might be an Eternian thing,” Bow says, referring to Adora’s wings. They're far away from Earth now. Catra's safe. They all are. Bow was able to override the distress call from Darla, with a warning to avoid Earth, making it safe for anyone else who might pick up a signal in this quadrant. 

“Or some… survival thing,” Bow continues. “I've never heard about anyone growing a second pair of wings, but I've also never heard of anyone losing them, before."

"I just can't believe I've had them this whole time," Adora says, running her fingers over her feathers, delicate and light. 

"They probably took some time growing back," Catra says. "It wouldn't have been instant."

"They're here now," Glimmer says. "And you're here now I—" she falters. "I don't know where to start," she admits. 

Adora laughs. "Neither do I." 

"We'll swap stories tomorrow," Catra suggests. "I'll show Adora to her room."

They all say goodnight. 

In silence, Adora follows Catra across the ship, space is colder and brighter than she remembered. Adora's room here is bigger than her whole dorm. The room is stuffed with gifts, some old familiar stuffed animals (she had forgotten that alicorns actually exist), photographs of her and Catra and Glimmer when they were younger, and a portrait of her parents.  

A few hours pass. As exhausting as it was to fly for the first time, Adora can't sleep. She tiptoes across the ship, knocks softly on Catra's door. Catra opens it slowly, her hair down. 

"I couldn't sleep," Adora says. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Catra blinks at her. Wordlessly, she takes a blanket from her bed.

"Come on," she says, grabbing Adora's hand. She takes her to the couch in the main cabin.

"I don't want to keep you up," Adora protests.

Catra shakes her head, and smiles. How Adora had missed that smile, that reserved soft expression of hers. "It's your first time in space in almost ten years. It's a lot to process. I couldn't sleep the first time either. There's no real night or day out here."

"I wanted to thank you again, for saving me."

"I think we can call it even," Catra says.

"And I just... wanted to talk," she says self-consciously. Catra is unsettlingly attractive, it’s distracting. "It's dumb, but there's still so much I don't remember. Like, were there moons or suns on Etheria? Are there summers there? And—" Adora swallows before asking this next one. "Can women love women on Etheria?"

Catra doesn't look like she expected that last question. "Etheria has moons, but you grew up with a sun on Eternia. Etheria has summers, they're just nowhere as extreme as Earth summers. And as for your last question—women love women on every planet," she answers seriously. She looks at Adora, troubled. "But some are less accepting than others. That's not the case on Etheria. Earth has more issues than most planets."

Adora smiles, feeling shy. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure, Adora."

"You were the only thing I remembered from my past. I think you always meant something to me."

Catra looks as if she's about to cry. "I'm a bit of a brat," she admits. 

Adora laughs. “You think I didn’t remember that?" 

Catra laughs in response. "What else do you remember?" 

Adora remembers bits and pieces of what she thinks was her last night on Etheria. She leans in to kiss Catra's cheek. "Was that okay?" she asks. 

Catra responds by kissing her knuckles, princely. Tenderly. 

They fall asleep with Catra leaning on Adora's shoulder. It's not the softest couch, but it's the most comfortable Adora's ever felt.

One day, maybe, she'll tell Catra that she was the only thing she remembered from her life on Etheria. And when she doubted her truth, she thought Catra must've been an angel. Adora wonders if they know what angels are, in Etheria. 

EPILOGUE

Six months later

“I’m a little nervous,” Adora admits. She’s wearing a long gown draped with muted yellows, pinks, and blues to match her wings.

Adora always keeps her wings out, except for when she’s sleeping, as if she’s still afraid they’ll disappear again. Catra can’t fault her for that fear, eight years is a long time to go without flying. That brief twenty-four-hour period was hard enough for Catra back on Earth, she can’t imagine going on for as long as Adora had.

“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Catra assures her, as she buttons up her white top. Her golden winged necklace is still in view, and so is Adora’s. Upon her return to Etheria, royals from all over the planet have gifted her with finer jeweled necklaces and crowns, but Adora wouldn't accept any of them. 

“I know, but”—Adora’s wings flutter delicately as she speaks—“what do I say if someone recognizes me as She-Ra?”

Glimmer had originally planned out Bright Moon’s first ball this year as an extravagant welcome home gift for She-Ra, and as a way to reintroduce her to Etherian society. But Adora didn’t want it—she said it made her feel pressured, that her name and title belong to the past. “That’s not who I am anymore,” she had said. If Light Hope still existed, she probably would have malfunctioned hearing that statement. 

Glimmer understood Adora’s concern, but still insisted on throwing a ball anyway, because they’re fun.

So tonight, Adora is no longer the guest of honor, she's just a guest. A beautiful, worried guest, struggling with pinning her bangs into their poof. (It was a compromise she made with Catra, Adora said she'd leave the rest of her hair down if the poof could stay.)

“You could tell them the truth,” Catra says. “That you’ve returned to Etheria and retired your title.” Adora hums in consideration, biting her lip in concentration as she stares into the mirror. “Or you could play dumb and say you don’t know who She-Ra is.”

Adora snorts and her bangs fall, framing her face. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious!” Catra jokes. Adora starts swooping her bangs back. "Just say you have no clue who they're talking about, and they'll leave you alone. But I'll make sure nobody bothers you. Glimmer and Bow will help, too." 

Adora bests her bangs—and her hair does look nice, flowing down like this. She turns around to face Catra. "Stay by my side tonight?" she asks. 

As if Catra could say no to that. Affectionately, she says, "Of course, dummy."

Adora leans down to kiss her, eager and grateful. “What do you think of the dress?” she asks.

“You look gorgeous,” Catra says. Adora reddens, and Catra feels herself blush as well. “Come on,” she says. “Glimmer will get mad if we’re late.”

*

Predictably, Bright Moon's ballroom is decorated lavishly. Catra suspects Glimmer was inspired by the roller rink—the room is covered with blues, purples, and pinks, and there are rotating white lights flickering about. And music that sounds suspiciously similar to the synthesized noise Catra heard playing on Earth. While the ball might not technically be for Adora anymore, it was clearly designed with her in mind.

Adora has seen most of the princesses since they arrived on Etheria two weeks ago, but they still come and greet her excitedly. Aside from Frosta, who wasn’t even born when Adora took off, who greets Adora shyly. 

Perfuma drags Adora away to the dance floor, and Catra stays behind. 

“You’ve been in a better mood,” Mermista points out. 

“Of course I am, I found She-Ra,” Catra says. 

“And that’s all it is?” Mermista asks. 

Catra’s cheeks heat up, but her lips twitch as she sees Sea Hawk browse through the food selection, where candles are currently lit. “Your boyfriend’s not allowed within thirty feet of anything with a flame, right?” 

“First of all, I don’t have a boyfriend,” Mermista says, unconvincingly, but she turns to follow Catra’s gaze. “And second of all, I’ll be right back.” She storms over towards Sea Hawk, and Catra takes that as her cue to leave.

But she’s lost track of Adora. She supposes it was bound to happen between all the dancing and curtseying and the food—poor Adora has been stuck with Earth food for the past eight years—but she can’t spot those tri-colored wings of hers. 

Catra can’t find her within the ballroom, so she wanders around Bright Moon’s castle. She walks past a secluded balcony, and then steps back. The person standing on it doesn’t have their wings out. 

Adora’s scars are visible through the slits on the back of her dress. She's staring up at the stars, they’re brighter here than what Adora was able to see from Earth. Catra likes to think that they're shining tonight especially for Adora, to welcome her home. Eridani and Aquarii glint next to each other, but Eternia's constellation is gone now.

Without turning around to look at her, Adora points to the spot it once belonged and asks, “Eternia used to be there, right?” 

Catra missed the night the light from the explosion reached Etheria’s sky. She was out in space, searching for She-Ra still. When she returned empty handed again, she felt exceptionally lost, knowing that Eternia really was gone. She took it as a bad sign that She-Ra still hadn't yet been found. She wasn't ready to start mourning her yet. 

“Yeah,” Catra says quietly. "That's where it used to be." 

Adora turns to face her, eyes glossy. Catra knows that Adora had wanted to come back to Eternia, but sometimes Catra worries that Adora will never feel at home here again. That she’ll want to leave, go back to Earth, or somewhere else.

“We can always go back to Earth, you know,” Catra says. Adora tilts her head. “You know, if you ever miss it,” she explains.

"As if," Adora says, on the verge of giggling. "You really think I miss Earth?" she asks, sounding amused. She shakes her head. “There are some parts of it I miss, sure, but I spent my whole time there wanting to leave.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Catra, I didn't belong there. Even before most of my memories came back, I knew that. I'm not going to want to go back, even just to visit, anytime soon."

“Are you going to be happy though? Staying here in Etheria, in Halfmoon?” Staying with me, is what she means, though she's afraid to ask her directly. Things are good with Adora, they're new and familiar and a return and a beginning all at once. 

Adora seems to realize what Catra’s really asking, though. Slowly taking a step forward, Adora asks, “Are you going to be happy staying in Halfmoon?”

Catra didn't anticipate that. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.

“You never wanted to rule Halfmoon, at least, not when we were kids. You've spent most of the past two years looking for me, and now you've found me. And I'm here. Are you going to be satisfied here in Halfmoon?"

“How do you do that?” Catra asks.

Adora blinks twice in response. “Do what?”

“Still know me better than I know myself, even after all this time?”

Adora laughs gently. “It’s a talent, I guess,” she says, smiling. “That, and, Glimmer and Bow were saying the same thing earlier.”

Catra crosses her arms. “What were they saying earlier?”

Incandescent and elegant as always, Adora’s wings reappear. "They were saying that soon you're going to get restless, ask us all if we're up for another adventure." 

"What about you? We only just came back to Etheria two weeks ago and—"

"Neither of us have really gotten to explore what's out in space for fun, Catra. I'm happy in Halfmoon, but I want to travel across galaxies with you, too," Adora promises. "Besides," she says, eyes darkening, for a moment. "Somewhere out there there's a planet with Eternia still in its sky. I'd like to find it. I'd like to say goodbye." 

"That's going to be a long voyage," Catra says. 

"Is that okay with you?" 

Catra kisses her. "We'll have to plan it with my advisors," she says when they pull apart. After several years of peace, Halfmoon is thriving now. “Honestly, they’ve probably already been planning for it.” 

Adora’s eyes are bright, knowing. “Good,” she says. 

Catra wraps her arm around Adora’s waist and sighs contently. She leans her head on Adora’s shoulder. “I don’t want to go back to the party just yet.”

“Good,” Adora laughs dreamily. “Me, neither.” A shooting star streaks across the sky, Adora pulls away, leans herself against the railing. “Oh, quick! Make a wish!” she says, almost urgently. 

“What? Why?” Catra asks. 

“You—oh,” Adora stammers, looking over her shoulder. “It’s a thing, back on Earth. To make a wish once you see a shooting star.”

“I like that,” Catra says. “What would you wish for?” Adora considers this. “And don’t say there isn’t anything.” Adora shoots her a glare, but it softens as her eyes dart to Catra’s lips. Catra grins at her. “Subtlety was never your strong suit, you know,” Catra tells her fondly. 

Adora laughs. “It was never exactly yours either,” she says. Stepping closer, Adora’s wings flutter like a heartbeat. “Something tells me your wish is the same as mine.”

“It’s possible,” Catra says. Very possible, considering Adora also looks like she wants to kiss her till she’s breathless. “There is a way to find out. All you have to do is ask.” 

Adora leans forward, whispers in her ear, “I wish you would stop cheating when we race to D’riluth Tower.” 

Catra blinks. “What?” she asks. Adora winks and within seconds, she’s fifteen feet in the air. “Are you serious, right now? You want us to fly all the way back to Half—” 

Adora’s probably out of earshot by now. Catra races after her. Looking back one day, Catra won’t remember which one of them actually got there first. She’ll just remember their giddiness and their eagerness and that someone said, “I love you” and someone else said it back.