Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 The sun crests the horizon. A deep rose hue erupts into the  sky and cascades over the blasted landscape of Eternia. It’s painfully quiet on the overlook. The rising sun creeps over the landscape searing away the shadows on the rusty red crags. It casts gentle light on the muted walls of Castle Grayskull. Those rays reach towards you and warm the profile of your face. You’re not looking directly at it, instead off to a horizon beyond, where the night is being chased away.

 You bite your thumb and look down at the quiet datapad next to you. The rest of the squad is asleep, and the scanner hasn’t picked up a single creature that would make a sound. How long has this planet been dead? What happened here? There wasn’t an ambient hum or a warble of a bird. It smelled of dust and sand, a cloying odor clings inside of your nose. You take a deep breath anyway. You relax on the stone parapet with your back against a flat outcropping of eroded stone blocks. They’re that gentle but abrasive texture of granite that betrays a millennia of wear. Your leg dangles off the side to the expanse below. You’re not bothered by the height. 

 There are so many questions about what this place was like before. Somehow it feels dishonest as it stands. Like there’s something lurking inside that’s been corrupted or changed. You guess that makes sense after the berserk She-Ra attack. You’ll never mention how close she’d come to splattering you on a wall like an insect.

 There isn’t much else to be done about it. Adora seems okay, but Glimmer got hurt so badly. She bounced back, but it still seems wrong. Something changed and you can’t place my finger on what. It’s one of those feelings you can’t shake—when your tech and expertise can’t quite account for something magical.

 A chirping meow interrupts your silence. You turn to face the descending spiral staircase that leads here. A purple head and azure eyes stare back at you. Curious, and somehow concerned. Melog chirrs again when you make eye contact. They leap up from the staircase and cross the open-topped parapet towards you. You hear a voice far down below. 

 “Dammit you glowy ass cat! Where’d you go?”

 Melog rubs their head against your leg. You reach down and scratch the top of their head. You debate on letting Catra wander around down there for a bit longer. You could use the quiet, but it’d be a little rude to make her look around. Your fathers had always taught you not to be rude. Although, they also liked to disregard your privacy.

 “Up here, Catra!”

 A huff echoes from below. You don’t hear any footsteps and don’t even know where she’s at until her short-cropped hair and ears poke out from below the steps. 

 “Hey, Arrow Boy.” Fatigue creeps into her words. You wonder if she’s been up for a while too. “What’re you doing up here?”

 “Just been thinking.” Melog rubs against your hip and you keep scratching behind their ears vigorously. “It’s been a weird couple of days, hasn’t it?”

 “Pft.” As she finishes ascending the steps, a new surprise awaits. She’s wearing a black leather jacket over her maroon button-up shirt. Not just any… You know the jacket all too well. The one from so long ago in the Crimson Wastes. “You’re telling me. Nearly getting killed by She-Ra again wasn’t on my list of nostalgic pastimes.”

 You hear her but can’t look away. Part of you is stuck somewhere on a dilapidated ship, surrounded by sand, as the paralyzing darts sap the strength from you. Her haughty, cackling laughter echoing around you. The other part of you is aware of the difference in Catra now, the quiet, more reserved way she speaks.  The weather-worn collar and sleeves bear the marks of a long past, one that existed before she absconded with it from some denizen of the Wastes. It covers her maroon button-up shirt and you notice that she moved the wing of Bright Moon onto the lapel. 

 “Wow... that’s uh…” You clear your throat as you gather your thoughts. “That’s a look.”

 She crosses her arms and huffs. “What—you’re gonna say it’s cute or something?”

 Your eyes break away from the jacket. “No. It’s kinda hot really.”

 Melog meows in agreement and sits next to you, rubbing their face against your thigh. You briefly wonder what fashion sense an ancient being from a dead planet would have, but you’re mostly glad to have someone on your team.

 She flushes bright red and looks away. “Whatever.” 

 She pauses. A gust of cold sterile wind whips over the overlook. You let the silence lapse between you patiently. You know what she’s thinking, and it’s best not to interrupt. You afford Catra the one thing you wanted for the longest time—someone to just listen. 

 She relaxes and runs her fingers through her hair. She’s been growing it back out again. The bangs curled over her forehead and the mane of dark hair blossomed from the top.  “I mean… Thanks.”

 As good as she looks, you can’t shake the memory of when you saw it last. Better to talk about it now, you thought as you were never one to keep secrets. “I remember that jacket.”

 Her eyes widen and you watch her recoil back. Not so much physically but inside of her head. “You do?”

 The contempt of her old sneer is hard to beat back down into memory. “Yeah, how couldn’t I?” 

 She looks away again, facing perpendicular to you, staring out to the horizon so far away. Without trees or buildings to interrupt it, the horizon seems to stretch infinitely in all directions. “I wonder if Adora is going to feel the same way.”

 “She hasn’t seen it yet?”

 You chastise yourself as soon as you say it. It just came out so quickly, but you see the effect it has on Catra immediately. That recession from before is now almost a full retreat. 

 Melog presses harder against your leg as though to confirm your mistake and then turns away, crossing back over to her. They curl around Catra’s legs and meow.

 She doesn’t acknowledge them. “No. I thought maybe… it’s a little cold out right now is all.”

 Maybe not a full retreat then. You still had a chance. “Right, and the wing is on it because…?”

 She sighs and crosses her arms. She glares back pointedly. “All right Arrow Boy, I didn’t come up here to have my fashion choices berated.”

 “I’m not. I was just curious why you’re wearing it.” You figure it’ll be best to get this sorted out before Adora wakes up. Whatever reaction she’s going to have is going to be interesting—to say the least—and you don’t want it causing a fight between them this morning. So you lean a little closer to Catra and fix her with that steady, earnest gaze of yours. “You brought it all the way from Etheria, stashed it in the ship, and decided after She-Ra almost killed us to try it on again. There’s something up.” You plant a foot on the parapet and raise your knee into the air.

 She growls in frustration and runs a hand over her face, though you can see the blush in her cheeks. “This whole ‘talk about your feelings’ thing everyone does is awful, and for the record, you’re the worst.” She jabs a finger at you.

 Melog chirrs pointedly.

 “Okay, he’s the second worst next to you.”

 Melog flip-flops their tail behind them and bemusement graces their alien face.

 You pat an open space next to you on the edge of the parapet. “C’mon, spill.” 

 Catra finally gives up her stiffness and walks towards you. She pounces up and squats on the stone outcropping you lounge on. Melog follows her and now sits between you, clearly ready to give a cheek rub to whoever needs it. Her tail sways behind her. That little edge of discomfort was a tell. She crosses her arms over her knees and rests her chin atop them. She stares into the horizon.

 “I’ve been trying to sort things out. Make sense of… everything. And there’s...” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “It’s not just as easy as making it up to Adora. I really want it to be. But I hurt a lot of people before I got here.” She stops and lays her head on its side to look at you. “I need to tell someone something, and I can’t let it get back to Adora.”

 You hold up your hands in innocence—a gesture that perhaps only you and a few others could really pull off. “It’s safe here. But I might tell you that Adora needs to hear it.”

 (You always say things like that. You can’t help it. I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much the universe needs that from you.)

 Melog rubs their cheek against Catra’s hip and meows.

 She sneers at you but knows better than to argue. Her ear facing the open sky twitches. She unfolds one of her arms and scratches Melog on their head. “Sometimes I feel worse about Scorpia and what I did to her than what happened with Adora.”

 You hold your breath. That’s a statement. You place a hand on your raised knee, asking simply, “Why?”

 “Adora… she walked away. She wouldn’t put up with my shit. Every time I was a monster to her, she shut me down and knocked me back into my place. That hurt, but I… One of the things I love about her is I never realized how much she balanced that. When I go too far, I’m shut down. And I know she does it because she’s strong, and she cares about me. But it wasn’t the same with Scorpia.” A strain in her voice drags sympathy out of you. She needs to get it out first.

 “Scorpia sure is something,” you venture neutrally. “Her and Perfuma are perfect together.”

 “Hah, they were destined to be obnoxiously wholesome.” She drops her mirth and catches your eye. “I mean that in the best way.”

 “No, I understand. It’s even a little much for me sometimes.” You give her a disarming smile—the one you’d used on Queen Angella when Glimmer was about to get in trouble for something the two of you did.

 “Okay, that makes me feel better.” She takes another deep, relaxing breath. “But that’s it. She’s so kind and patient… It was awful for me then. I was destroying everything and she stood beside me. She wanted to help, and there was a minute in the Crimson Wastes when she almost did. Her annoying persistence almost convinced me to stay there, running everything. I don’t think Hordak could’ve stopped us. But I… Adora… and then the…” She places her chin back on her arms to look away.

 Melog mews and rubs against her hip again. They’re out of your reach, but you want to pet them so badly right now.

 You study her for another moment before saying quietly, “It’s okay.” 

 Even as you say that, a doubt creeps in the back of your mind. Those wounds run deep through everyone. Years of struggle and fighting didn’t disappear overnight. No, you’ll help make it okay. 

 (You always decide such things so easily.)

 “You guys didn’t see what happened afterward. I abused her… her friendship. Because I knew I could. She was always there and she was just so nice about everything and then she wasn’t. She left too. Sometimes I wish I could go back. I wish I was different, and I wish I would’ve let her take care of me, and none of this would’ve happened.” She tugs at the collar of her jacket.

 You shrug. “Oh well, that makes sense.” 

 She turns quickly to you, ears laid back and tail stiff. “What? How?”

 “You don’t just have to care about Adora. She’s great and she’s everything to you, but it’s okay to still have those feelings about Scorpia. She’s an amazing and kind woman, and I think even if she just chipped away at you when you were feeling like that, then it says a lot about her. You can love lots of people, Catra. We all just want the best for each other.”

 She sits stiff as a rail. You don’t think those are words she ever expected to hear. Melog gives her another rub but it doesn’t break her trance.

 A nervous flutter in your stomach tells you to continue. “I’m just saying that all of that love needs to be in your life for things to be okay. I love Adora as much as I love Glimmer, just in a different way. I just have to let both of those in.” You touch the heart emblem on your chest—the insignia your fathers chose so wisely. “So you can love Scorpia, and it’s okay to feel like that. And…” You gesture at her jacket. “If that’s one of the ways that you want to show that then I think that’s okay. We’ll adjust because we love you too.”

 She slowly lets go of the jacket collar and relaxes. “Th—Thanks, Arrow Boy.”

 “And I think you should—”

 “Yeah, yeah, yeah tell Adora. Got it.” Some of the old growl is back in her voice.

 Melog mews in affirmation.

 You hesitate, thinking this is a good note to end on, but you can’t leave it at that. You have to say something, because that is the right thing to do. You always tried to do the right thing. “Just… Catra?”

 She looks at you.

 “Are you sure you’re ready for that much Adora?”

 Her eyes narrow, but then she rolls them dismissively. “I think I can handle Adora.”

 “Sure.” You’re not quite sure how to phrase it, but you have a feeling. “She’s been holding a lot back for your sake. I’m just saying you’ll be opening a door that can’t be closed again.”

 Catra snaps her gaze away. A bright flush radiates over her cheeks. You know what she’s thinking.

 Maybe it was best to change the subject. “Say.” You shift over and nudge her playfully with an elbow. You can’t help but marvel at the small gesture and how much it marks the progress between the two of you. Catra would’ve clawed your eyes out for such a thing not too long ago. “While we’re on the subject of regrets, are you ever going to apologize for shoving me off a cliff?”

 She smirks back. “I’d have to feel bad about it before I did that. That day was too much fun.”

 Catra creeps through the silent castle. An ominous black consumes more than just light throughout the labyrinthine halls. They draw her in deeper. A vague threat pervades the air—some brought upon by She-Ra, but something else too. That strangeness persists.

 It takes a moment for her to realize it’s nothing around her. It’s a memory of her own making. A primal fear.

 One of disappointing Adora. That tenuous thread that they hold suspends in this moment. She breathes in deep the jacket’s scent. The stinging saline odor of the sands of the wastes clings to the tanned leather. It lingers on her now. Even if Catra takes it off, Adora will still notice.

 She carries a burden on her shoulders even still but something tells her that it isn’t worth giving it all up. Instead there are pieces and parts of her memories that still matter. She was a monster at one point, but she isn’t now. Some creeping thought in her memory remembers that. Beyond anger and hatred she shared, that which blinded her to the love she wanted for so long, there was a person inside of it all.

 She can’t just abandon that person. Catra was happy, once. She can still be happy, despite all of the things that happened. Even tied up in the morass of guilt and trauma, there are good times. And she needs to hold onto them. Or so she thinks, anyway. 

 (Of course it’s never so simple, is it? Memories—good and bad—are too intermingled to only keep a single facet.)

 Arrow Boy staved off the fear for only a little while. But every step Catra takes closer to her and Adora’s room saps that confidence away no matter how close Melog follows. Instead, an itching fear grows within her. Maybe Adora will just be mad and hurt. Maybe this love is as fleeting as she always feared and will flash away in an instant.

 That doesn’t feel fair to Adora. She has put up with so much from Catra. Is she supposed to deal with more selfishness? More of Catra grasping thinly to some form of identity? The little trinkets she thinks she needs?

 Melog mews some words of encouragement behind her but their presence quickly lapses from Catra’s reality. She stands at the door to their room. Her wandering mind led her to this spot, and now she is frozen in indecision.

 What was she doing? She can’t walk into that room with the jacket.

 Well… maybe she could toss it to the side. Stash the stupid thing in some corner of the castle where it’d never be seen.

 Adora would probably find it though. Someone would. Nosy bastards always go snooping around.

 She should have just chucked it out of the airlock before—

 A quiet rustling from inside the room. The opening of drawers. Adora is awake. 

 She should just leave now, before Adora ever knows. 

 Why did she always have to ruin things? What broken part of her carved into her the instinct to destroy something before it could destroy her?

 A small, defiant part of her rises up. The little kitten that always crawled back out of the shadows. That isn’t what it is. The jacket—this moment—this is how she has a chance of rebuilding something.

 She reaches up and grasps the doorknob. With a loud kerchunk the latch releases and it swings open.

 “Hey!” Adora stumbles in surprise away from the open door. She covers herself loosely with her shirt, only half dressed. “Why wouldn’t you knock? I could’ve—”

 She stares.

 She stares in that way that hurts. Those blue eyes fixate on Catra in a way that pierces time and space. It ascends through the dimensions and it draws out an expression that Catra has always feared. Even back then when she had Adora as her prisoner, Adora hadn’t looked at her like this. Like she always deserved. It doesn’t even matter. Nothing Catra can say will dissolve this moment.

 She nervously fidgets at the jacket. Hoping to stash it away. Put it somewhere where it never existed. But she remembers Arrow Boy’s words. His sincerity and encouragement. That moment feels so long ago, but he believed this could turn out okay. She couldn’t help but believe a little too.

 This is a mistake. But she steps forward anyway. She subconsciously holds her arm against her body—that old protective gesture. But she forces herself to stop, to drop her arms to her sides and raise her eyes to meet Adora’s. They’re still fixed to her like a bolt to a bot.

 There’s only one thing that she can say.

 “Hey, Adora.” Her voice croaks. That pain and discomfort lingers in the air but she pushes through. A small quirk of her lips is all she manages for her usual smirk.

 Adora’s hands drop, apparently having forgotten her half-dressed state. Despite her bareness, Catra feels that much more vulnerable.

 But—

 “ Wow .” The faintest grin creeps onto her face, a little mischievous. “Where’d you dig that up?”

 That small thread is enough for Catra to reach out and grasp a hold of. “Well, I thought…” A blush burns hot in her cheeks and she drops her eyes self-consciously. She scratches at the scruff on the back of her neck. “Scorpia gave it to me before we left Etheria. I’ve been meaning to wear it but there never seemed to be a good time between Angella and finding Eternia and all that. But, it’s getting colder out and I thought—”

 Adora seizes her by the lapels of the jacket, cutting her off as effectively as if she’d stolen her voice. Catra meets Adora’s gaze in shock. Her eyes are half-lidded as she peers down, examining the drape of the leather over Catra’s shoulders. Her hands slide down the lapels of the front, testing the material between her fingers. A spike of fear shoots up Catra’s spine as she wonders if Adora is about to rip it off her—furious she’d had the gall to show up in it again. To bring back those memories after everything they’d been through to move past them.

 “Scorpia kept this for you, huh?” 

 Her voice is soft, pensive. Catra can’t tell if she’s mad or not. She’s so used to being able to read Adora like an open book that not knowing what Adora is thinking unsettles her.

 Catra’s throat has gone dry and she has to clear it before she says, “She brought it back from the Fright Zone for me. She… she actually stitched this thing on the back—just that stupid nickname she has for me.”

 “She really cares about you.”

 Part of Catra deflates, an old shame like a shard of ice deep within her. “More than I deserve.”

 Adora shakes her head slightly. “Everyone deserves love, Catra.” She still worries the edges of the jacket between her fingers as she quietly says, “You know, I was jealous of Scorpia for the longest time. But now I’m glad you had her. She was never afraid to care or love—she’s one of the best people I know.”

 “She’s uh… she’s definitely something.” Catra wants to jump away, to crawl out of her skin. She feels like she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop, so she forces herself to say, “You’re not mad?”

 Adora’s eyes finally lift to hers again. She doesn’t answer right away, seeming to chip away at Catra’s brittle exterior that much more, the way only she seemed able to. “Why would I be? It’s your jacket, right?”

 Catra nods slowly, the loosening of the tension within her draining away all sensation. “It’s… this is a part of me I want back.”

 “Then that’s something else to love about you.”

 It’s then that Adora tugs on the jacket, pulling Catra in. She isn’t prepared for the tenderness of the kiss, nor the immediacy. She’s still a little defensive—can’t quite help her old instincts. But in Adora’s arms, her fears always melted away so quickly. She feels herself sink into the kiss, into the embrace with ease. Arms draping over Adora’s shoulders.

 (Oh wow, they were really… Okay. No shame.)

 Catra runs her fingers through Adora’s hair. It’s still loose—Adora having not had the chance to put it up in its usual, stupid ponytail. Catra likes it better loose. She playfully rakes her claws through, knowing the exact pressure to just tease. Adora’s hands drift from the lapels of the jacket, sneaking beneath the bottom hemline just at her waist to hold her there. Her touch is as gentle and attentive as ever. Sometimes it truly seems when it’s just the two of them, there is nothing in the universe that could harm them. It’s the comfort Catra knew since they were little and it’s in that old comfort that she finds another old piece of herself. She’d lost it for a time, somewhere in the endless halls of the Velvet Glove. But here it is, and she seizes hold of it again.

 She takes Adora’s bottom lip between her teeth and bites—not hard enough to break skin but enough that when Adora jerks back in surprise her lip drags between her teeth. The tip of her fang a point of pressure on the precipice of piercing through. Then her lip is free and Adora stares at her in confusion and shock, her mouth slightly parted. 

 But Catra is grinning and the smile on her face is familiar too. It was her mask for years—an almost insidious grin she’d cultivated to make it seem like she already knew your response before you’d even spoken. It’s the smile she wore when she controlled all the gangs of the Wastes and She-Ra’s sword was hers and for the first time things were going right again. Only now they truly are going right. She doesn’t have to fake this smile. It comes to her as naturally as breathing.

 Adora chuckles a little nervously. “What was that? I—”

 “Go sit down.” Catra motions to the bed behind them with a terse jerk of her head.

 “What?”

 “You heard me.”

 Adora hesitates only for a breath, staring at Catra. But she seems to recognize something there because she only nods vaguely and backpedals to the bed. Her face is flushed. The blue glow of the Failsafe on her chest illuminates the intensity of her eyes as they watch Catra make her way languidly toward her. The flicking tail behind her is the only outward betrayal of her own impatience. She stops, not yet brushing Adora’s knees, and Adora’s eyes drift down over the jacket, but Catra raises her chin with a finger.

 “Last chance,” she says. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

 Adora only bobs her head dumbly. She always took such pride in leaving Adora struck dumb—though sometimes it’s just too easy. The big idiot.

 She kisses Adora, half-smiling at the stupid look still on her face, but just breifly. She pulls away, pushing back on Adora’s shoulders, and says, “Then lay back.” She shrugs one shoulder out of the jacket before Adora catches her hand.

 “Leave it on.” 

 Anyone else, Catra might have paused to consider if she was being mocked. If there were some underlying deceit to the request. But it’s Adora, and she bleeds earnestness stronger than the waterfalls of Bright Moon.

 So Catra shrugs the jacket back on, popping the collar up against her neck. She smirks. “If you insist. Now, lay back.”

 Not even nodding now, Adora does as Catra told her and stretches back. And as Catra bends over her and kisses her, I take that as my cue to leave. 

 (I hadn’t really meant to even stay this long—even that strange alien cat friend of yours had more sense to leave earlier—but my curiosity got the better of me. I heard that She-Ra was back at Castle Grayskull and I had to come see for myself. The contemporary of my heroes. I hadn’t expected… that . 

 You Etherians are such strange people.)

Chapter Text

 I find you walking out of Grayskull.

 You step from the mouth as the sun rises higher above the barren mountains in the distance. A dry wind whips over the horizon and blows sand against the side of your face. You wince and brush the sand away.

 (You should have seen this place in its heyday. It would have made your precious Bright Moon look like the most pedestrian of villages.)

 Your spaceship (which you’d named her Darla for some reason. Not something classy like “War-Machine”) opens its maw as you approach. The ramp unfolds and it lands on the dusty ground with a puff. You tentatively place a foot on the metal lip and stop. An anxiety clutches at your heart. That fear. She’s in there. The one you let down. But it isn’t your fault. She-Ra is the one that threw the boulder. The First Ones were the ones that made the virus to infect her. You did everything you could. But that guilt still weighs on you.

 You step cautiously onto the ramp. It’s too awkward to be caught out right now, but you think this is the best time to avoid most everyone. Catra is with Adora (I can’t even convey how thoroughly they don’t give a shit about where you’re at right now), Angella and Micah are probably still asleep, and Entrapta is out somewhere scouring the halls of Grayskull. It should only be her family aboard Darla. 

 A chirr about makes your skeleton leap free from your body.

 “Melog!” Your cry is a loud, strangled hush. 

 They sit on the ramp behind you, tail flopping from side to side, and meow again.

 You hold a finger to your lip. “Shh! What’re you doing here?”

 They respond with another soft mew and their ear flicks. Their expression asks the question: Why would I be anywhere else?

 “I wish I could speak space cat.” You sigh in resignation. “Fine. I guess if you want to—”

 “Bow!”

 You startle and turn to see Glimmer standing in the angular hallway of Darla. She wears her cape around her more like a blanket against the early morning chill. She favors her left leg, you notice, knowing the rock had grazed her right side worse. Even as Queen of Bright Moon, her hair is a poofy mess that halos her face as it has every morning since you’d known her. Seeing her sloppy bedhead as she releases a massive yawn fills your chest with a familiar warmth.

 “Glimmer! Good morning. I was just—” Before you can finish, she disappears in a shimmering cloud of sparkles and embraces you in a hug attempting to squeeze the life out of you.

 In a tingling flash, you reappear back in your room. The adorning pillows are squished and strewn about on the floor. The center of the bed evinces all the tell-tale signs of Glimmer’s recent occupancy—a crevice in the middle, the nest of blankets. That same periwinkle color she loves pervades the furniture and walls. On the desk, there are unfinished letters and notes scattered over the surface. She insisted on writing them while she recovered.

 Eventually she releases you and you catch your breath. 

 “You should take it easy on the teleports. You’re still recovering from the…” You stop yourself from mentioning the boulder and scratch at the back of your neck. “Just… you should be more careful.”

 Glimmer laughs lightly, a dismissal of your concern. “When did you start sounding like my mother?”

 “I always have.” She allows you to guide her back to the bed and lower her down on the edge. “You really should be resting. Adora said even with She-Ra magic, sleep is the best way to heal.”

 “So I’ve heard.” She rolls her eyes and pats the bed next to her. “Come here! Sit with me.”

 You look at her, unable to hide your worry. But you can’t deny her and you join her on the bed. It’s soft and malleable, and your weights cause you to sink closer together. 

 “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she says.

 “I’ve been trying to give you time to rest. ”

 “You’re always so dramatic, Bow.” Glimmer bumps into your shoulder.

 You swing with it, maybe a little bit dramatically. “I can’t help it some days.” 

 “Well, you could try.” She leans against you and rests her head on your shoulder.

 Your hands hang limply on your lap; your eyes focus on them. “You could’ve died, Glimmer. If we hadn’t gotten back to the ship... You might not even be able to walk again if Adora hadn’t been able to use She-Ra’s magic.”

 “That’s the way things go.” She wraps an arm around your back and squeezes. Her body tingles to the touch like she’s made of sunlight glinting through a summer rain. “We always get by.”

 She says it so easily. She’s always said things like that so easily. Normally, it’s comforting, but today you find it’s more like sandpaper against your nerves. You know she’s always been reckless—it was something you admired about her for so long. But something about the deep, unmitigated fear you felt watching that boulder careen toward her, realizing what had happened. Realizing that there was a chance…

 You shake your head.

 “What if we can’t anymore?” You pull at your fingers in your lap to relieve some of your aggravation. “Things are still so desperate. Every time we think we’re out of the Whispering Woods, another disaster pops up.”

 Her other hand reaches across and she places it gently on your knee. “What did you expect, Bow? Another adventure was bound to have risks. We could’ve just stayed on Etheria and stayed safe.” Her fingers drum over your knee as she considers her words. “But we wouldn’t have gotten my mom back, or saved the magic in the universe. That’s how it’s always been. Change doesn’t come without a risk. We’re doing what we’re best at.”  

 (She’s right, you know. If you can’t accept that something bad might happen, then nothing good will ever happen. It’s part of the responsibility of power. She knows this lesson. You should listen to her and stop whining.)

 A scratching at the door interrupts the two of you.

 You squint, trying to discern what could be making that noise until it hits you like a revelation. “Melog!”

 You stand up and hasten to door. Melog sits there, staring at you, then sparing a glance to Glimmer. You might not be able to speak space cat, or have a telepathic link like Catra, but you know the look Melog fixes you with is filled with judgement. For leaving them behind, no doubt.

 “Sorry.” You rub the back of your neck.

 The magical being flicks its ear to the side and trots in. They know their necessity. They hop up behind Glimmer and curl up.

 Glimmer spares a glance at you—you only shrug back. They wanted to be here, and you weren’t about to deny them.

 You cross the room and sit down beside her once again. You wrap your nearest arm around her, and place your other hand on hers. You pause a moment to recollect your thoughts and a fear finds its way into the back of your mind. “I’m just worried we’re going to run out of luck soon.” You kiss her on the side of the head.

 She pulls back slightly to look at you. “Bow, what gives? Why’s this suddenly a big deal?”

 “It isn’t sudden .”

 “You’re a bad liar.” She squeezes your knee and Melog mews in agreement.

 You sigh and sag your head. “Maybe it’s just been growing over the past few months. Is that still sudden?”

 “Uhh, yeah. It is.” Her other hand worries at your back, tracing circles over the bare skin at your midriff.

 “Okay, fine. It’s just been weird since… since, well, Catra joined us.”

 Melog picks up their head, tilting it in curiosity.

 She raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Oh, so we’re not allowed to let people in that tried to kill us at some point? Technically, that excludes Adora too.”

 You frown. You know she’s teasing, but still. “It’s not that. It’s just what’s been happening. Everything is different now. And…” You scoot away from Glimmer, settling backwards enough that you can look deep into her lavender, sparkling eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

 “Bow, you’re here because we need you. We love you.” 

 “What do you need me for exactly? Everyone seems to be getting along fine and I am just standing in the back shooting arrows at things. And what good did those do when you—” You cut off abruptly, still unable to say it out loud though the image hasn’t left your mind in days. You rub your eyes, trying to scrub the careening boulder out of your corneas. “I can’t help anyone anymore. It’s like everyone is moving forward and I’m just stuck.”

 The memories of the vines of despair intrude in your moment together. You feel their phantoms creeping up your arms, wrapping around your chest. It’s hard to breathe. You want to sink into their embrace. But you fight back. You push them away.

 (If a couple of vines can keep you down, then I’m wasting my time. Infinite time… but still.)

 “A lot’s changed since then. It doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just different. Everyone’s different. We’re different.” She squeezes your hands and looks up at you, eyes full of softness and caring. Not even Queen Angella could compare to her earnestness. “Doesn’t that mean something?”

 “I’m not saying anyone’s change is bad, but I’m barely holding things together. Arrow Boy. That’s all I’ve ever been and I will ever be. All I have are arrows, a tracker pad, and… and…” Something else is missing. There’s a void in you. You don’t know what can fill it.

 (But I do.)

 ((Also… that’s what she said.))

 “And a bit ole heart, Bow.” She reaches a hand out and touches the embossed heart on your half-sweater. A gift from Aunt Casta before you left. “Don’t forget that.”

 “Heart only counts for so much when your friends all are geniuses or have superpowers.” You cover her hand on your chest. You don’t pull it away, but take a moment to appreciate the warmth of it there. “It’s not that I’m jealous, it’s just… you got hurt, and I feel like it’s because I can’t keep up. I need something to keep up with everyone.”

 A little furrow in her brow appears, the one she gets when she’s thinking hard. Her sparkling eyes drift away before snapping back to you with ultra focus. “Why don’t you talk with Entrapta? She’s been cooking up a storm with tech since the Velvet Glove.”

 You can’t meet the intensity of her gaze. “I know, but she doesn’t really seem to want to, you know, talk.”

 She squeezes your hands. “Last I checked it was hard to get her to shut up.” 

 “Maybe with everyone else. Not with me.”

 “She doesn’t really talk with me, if that helps.”

 When you don’t respond, she nudges you with an elbow, luring your eyes back to hers. You’re still pouting, reluctant to yield your discomfort. But your efforts to withhold a grin are futile. Her smile is so dazzling you nearly forget your woes. Nearly.

 “Maybe a little,” you amend.

 “If it bothers you so much, why don’t you try to be a little more proactive?”

 “Yeah? With what?”

 “Well…” Her eyes wander around the room while she struggles to think of something. They settled on your tracker pad lying dormant on the bed stand. “Do you have any new programs you’ve made? I’ve seen you tinkering with it.”

 You retrieve it from its post. It turns on with a familiar beep and you tap a few of the applications absently. “Just making a scanner. Maybe to investigate Castle Grayskull with.”

 “Oh, c’mon.” Glimmer pushes on your shoulder excitedly. “She’d love to see that.”

 “I doubt it.” You pull up a simple game to maybe distract yourself. On it, a winged horse (Who has a winged horse? Is that some Etherian thing?) flies lazily as though it can’t quite keep itself up. You tap the screen and it makes a small movement upward to cross between a gap of two vertical pipes. “My inventions are just gadgets compared to what she’s doing.”

 Glimmer leans closer to peer over your shoulder. “Did you program that?”

 “Yeah, it’s just something I was doing while I was waiting for you to recover.” The flying horse hits a pipe when she leans closer and falls in a crumpled heap.

 “I think Swift Wind is going to be upset if you don’t make him do loop-de-loops.” She bumps into your arm.

 Your only response is a despondent sigh.

 “Bow.” Glimmer reaches forward and touches the side of your neck, drawing your eyes from the pad towards hers. “You’re a maker—an inventor . They’re not just gadgets. They’re tools that have gotten us out of trouble time and time again. You’ve saved our lives with them. How can you say they’re just gadgets?”

 You bite your lip, trying to think of some argument. But you know you can’t. You set the tracker pad aside. “You might have a point.”

 (You really should listen to your Queen. On Eternia, you would have been exiled for much less. Just saying.)

 “Of course I do.” She smiles at you, that familiar self-assured grin nearing smugness. “Now, go show her. I’m sure with a little effort, you two will be chummy all over again.”

 You lean forward and kiss her forehead. “Thanks.”

 She gestures me out of the room. “Go on, I’ll catch up. I wanna finally see the castle. Without, you know, giant boulders careening toward me.”

 Melog follows you out, preceding you through the doorway while you spare a look back at Glimmer. There’s something you want to say at the back of your mind, but you can’t seem to form the words. So you leave and listen to the hiss of the automatic door closing behind you.

 Your tracker pad beeps in acknowledgment as you fire up the new module. From the foot of Darla’s ramp, Castle Grayskull looms in front of you, a hulking mass of stone and ornamentation at complete odds with what you thought a castle should look like. The acid rain has long since parted and now a sky of low-hanging gray clouds menaces. It builds on the fear-inducing sight of the main gate of Grayskull. True to the name, a giant skull adorns the entrance, the mouth gaping open to swallow any visitors or interlopers. Gigantic open eye sockets, big enough for you to stand in, glow with a turquoise incandescence.

 After so many years of hearing Adora shout “For the honor of Grayskull,” you never would have guessed she was honoring a building with literally a giant gray skull on it.

 (We Eternians are a literal people, okay? You’re one to talk with your Fright Zone and… Catras. )

 You activate the tracker pad, and a radial beam of low-energy microwaves ping outward and return a signal back from the area around you in a plain view. The three dimensional map is opaque, but the interior rooms resolve themselves as voids in Darla and the castle. 

 Perfect. Maybe you can show Entrapta.

 Cables thicker than your arms trail from Darla into the gaping mouth of the castle like feeding tubes. They thrum with energy. You pace along them, sparing a brief glance up at the maw of the skeleton that swallows you whole. The foyer radiates out from the entrance with a semicircle perimeter of gray stone. Twin handrails lead up to a second floor at the edges of the circle, while three doors equidistant away from one another allow entry into the stone halls.

 You follow the cables through the central doorway, watching your icon navigate the tracker pad screen. A small pile of dislodged stone lays in the middle of the hall where it long ago cracked the marble tiles. If not for the grime, the room would have been alight with the brightest decorations of purple and orange mosaics. Stylized men with swords are discernible through the deterioration.

 A blue light fills the hall as you reach the end of the corridor. The cables lead into the control center in which Adam first appeared. The thought of another AI had caused a fit of glee from Entrapta, which even Catra’s snarkiest comments couldn’t derail. She hammers away at her keypad attached to the central projector. Adam hangs frozen mid-word, still slowly rotating midair. 

 You pause at the threshold of the room, watching Entrapta type away at whatever she’s working on. Only she ever really knows. You clear your throat and call, “Hey, Entrapta.”

 She doesn’t turn. Only the clacking of keys answers you. Next to her, Melog has taken up station (They have a habit of popping up wherever they’re needed most, I’m gathering). They hardly acknowledge your presence from her side, watching her work and staring distrustfully at the frozen projection. Their hackles weren’t raised, but something about their posture alerted you to their readiness to pounce.

 You approach closer and clear your throat again, dislodging something and coughing for real. She lifts her head from the display and turns to you. “Hi, Bow.” Her voice is slightly muffled by the mask, whose blue glowing eyes show characters that scamper across the lenses.

 “Ummm.” Your thoughts have scattered away from you. What were you going to say?

 “Yeess?” She keeps her mask down. Behind her, her hair continues to clack away at the keyboard, the only interloper to your silence.

 “I was… I was just going to see how you were doing.” You go to lean nonchalantly against one of the plinths, but miss the handhold and have to catch yourself before toppling to the ground. You brush it off. “Have you gotten past his ‘I am Adam’ greeting yet?”

 Entrapta did not notice your near faux pas at all. “Oh, I’m fine. Adam’s encoding is taking longer to crack and repair. It seems to be in a different protocol than the First Ones’ quantum architecture. I’ve been trying to break the encryption, but it’s been eluding me. These tricky bytes just need ferreting out and bam! ” She tossed her hands out to mimic an explosion. “I’m in!”

 “So why do you think he’s frozen?”

 “There seems to be a catastrophic system failure that corrupted all of the quantum bit processing architectures. It’s strange because there shouldn’t be an electromagnetic pulse or thaumetic-flux interference wave strong enough to break the self-catalyzing silicon pathways. Their gate structure seems to have been interrupted and the base level programming has been torn asunder . Ohhh I hope there’s video!!” The keys clatter faster and faster behind her as her excitement builds.

 She pauses for a moment and squints intently at the display in front of her. She pulls a tendril of her hair to scratch her chin.

 You peer over her shoulder inquisitively. “What is it?”

 “It seems my initial diagnosis may not have the full breadth of the issue we’re facing. Beyond the typical corruption with a catastrophic event there seems to be an interference in the quantum crystals.” She taps more carefully at the keys as though she could potentially disturb the glitch from its current location.

 “What’s that mean?”

 (Don’t ask me, I don’t know either.)

 “I have no idea!” She exclaims throwing her hair and hands into the air, but rather than frustration or disappointment, she is filled with excitement. “Going to take a lot more time to figure it out.” 

 You struggle to bring your thoughts back around after that explanation. Programming…

 (I knew some people that could help you once, but I’m at a loss with all this tech babble.)

 “Oh! I remember what I wanted to show you!” You hold your tracker pad aloft and point at it, cracking a huge smile.

 Her furious typing stops, and she opens her mask. She is curious, but you see an edge of a glare in her eyes. Was she… mad? She reaches out a tendril of hair and plucks your tracker pad from you gingerly. The display is on, showing the innards of Castle Grayskull that you scanned. 

 “Oh. It’s… It’s a map.” Her voice is flat.

 “Push the red button at the top.” You grin at her. Still hopeful and excited despite yourself. “You’re going to love it.”

 She presses it and the pad rings accordingly. Through the transparent back, you see the walls and rooms around you resolve accordingly, showing both the structures and the empty spaces in between. 

 “Oh, it’s a three dimensional map.”

 Her banal tone stabs a knife into your joy. You scramble to recover. “Not just any map! It actively pings the area and it finds empty void spaces. I figure it’s pretty handy for finding hidden stashes and passages.”

 She holds the pad, studying the screen apathetically. “That’s pretty neat, Bow. Good job.” Her hair carries the pad back to you and you take it, almost reluctantly. 

 Your heart falls, body slumps, and you nearly collapse onto the floor. You let the tracker pad dangle at your side. Maybe there was still a way to salvage this. “I thought, well I had seen your scanners and…”

 She looks at you, actually catching your eyes. There’s a flash of a realization in her face. “No, it’s really good! I’m impressed that you built that miniaturization into the pad itself. That’s quite a talent if you hand-soldered it in there.”

 You click the pad off and hang it on your belt. Her placations do little to stem the tide of disappointment in you. You guess you just need to try harder next time. You were never one to give up on something so easily.

 “Could we talk?”

 Entrapta’s eyes open wider in surprise. “I… uh… what about?”

 “I dunno… you been doing all right?” The loose scrambling for a subject burns at the back of your neck.

 She looks away again, down at the floor. “I’m fine. It’s been fine. I’m really busy right now, though. Could we talk after I’ve repaired the Adam AI?” Her focus won’t leave the displays and diagnostics in front of her. They glitter off her eyes and tempt her attention away from you. And your stupid invention.

 (I mean, it seemed pretty cool to me. But what do I know?)

 “Yeah… that would be fine. I’m just going to explore the castle until then.”

 You turn from her, crestfallen and the keys resume their symphony. You unhook your tracker pad and head into an adjacent hallway. Why has it been so hard to talk with her? You shuffle off deeper into the halls to lose yourself in the ancient snaking corridors.

 You affix your scanning goggles over your eyes and adjust them until the halls are clear but have a faint blue hue over them. With a few extra modifications, the new module was done and you can visualize the spaces more easily with them on. Empty spaces behind the walls were glowing red in the dormitories. The narrow stone hallway has bracings of wooden beams that appear to be on the last legs of their duty to hold the structure steady. Moss and mold cling to the sides of the corridor and form little clumps in the corners. 

 Down the hallway are offshoots of rooms that look identically ruined, containing no artifacts untouched by time. If they are from Mara’s time, then all of this might be over a thousand years old. It’s amazing that the castle still even stands (you don’t even know the half of it). If you can’t help the team break into the rest of the castle, maybe you can rummage something up for your dads. Even if it’s just a shard of pottery for George or some page of a book for Lance. It’s been a few days since your last call. You wonder if they’re worried about you?

 (Must be nice to have people to worry about you like that.)

 You peer into another room and a decayed bedframe occupies the middle. Torn curtains drape over it like a ghost of the past.

 (If you knew whose room this used to be, you wouldn’t be feeling such wonder. She was a massive bitch.)

 Nothing yet. You’re at the end of the hall, and it turns a corner down another corridor. You ping again and study the map. Adjacent to the corner is an empty chamber. Funny the bedrooms had been regularly spaced until this point of the wall. Just a gray stonework sits there. But unlike most of the other walls, this one is dry. In fact, there is no moss in this area at all.

 You switch modes on my pad, moving from the ping to a localized scanner. This one calibrated to detect magnetic fluctuations and make a differential analysis of active circuitry. You’re able to discern individual chips with this bad boy (whatever that means).

 You sweep the scanner up and down the wall until you find a series of bright lines connecting to an unremarkable rock. It was just another brick in the wall, but something apart from your tech told you that it could be more. You touch it, and feel a buzz in your fingertips. But nothing moves. You push harder, and there is a metallic click.

 (We used to go around Grayskull as kids and just look for stones like this. We didn’t need fancy goggles and tech. Just enough time and energy.)

 A groan of machinery fills the hall, and the stone wall cracks open. Dust accumulated from a thousand years of rest wafts into the emptiness. Finally it reveals the inner sanctum. An amber light hangs above, illuminating the treasure within.

 Books. Shelves and shelves of books. They fill a space little larger than one of the bedrooms. But this room—this room is pristine . Whatever tragedies of time had ripped away the grandeur of the surrounding halls had inexplicably avoided this singular haven.

 The smell of dry paper and bindings beckons you inward (you nerd).

 The small wooden stool creaks under you as you adjust your seat. The pillows had long since dissipated into lifeless packets of dust. All the opulence of a previous time left to rot. You flip another page and a stylized, polygonal man with a triangular torso holds up a sword. A great man. One that you don’t quite recognize yet. You will soon. The sword looks similar to She-Ra’s, but with a solid gray blade and thinner than the original Sword of Protection. He holds it to fend off what looks like a giant spider spitting flame at him. The First Ones writing is different from even that on Etheria. More swoopy and with different shapes on the intersections. Your dads would love it.

 The odor of dust and dry paper permeate the small space. Every other room in Grayskull was musty and damp, the storm breaching the ruined walls and ceiling. However, the confined space toward the center of the castle has kept safe some of the most precious treasures of Eternia. 

 Of course you found it. An instinct instilled in you by your fathers to seek out a source of knowledge when everything stopped making sense. You think through what brought you here. Curiosity. Passion. Those things that drive you further now leave you alone in this room. Reading.

 Well, looking at pictures to be honest. You couldn’t decipher the complex and entangled runes no matter how long you stared at them. If only you had Entrapta’s decoding program or—

 “Oh, wow. How did we miss this? I wonder if—Bow!” 

 You look up from the text to see Adora round the corner.

 “Adora! Check out what I found.” You gesture to the room.

 “Very impressive. Did you find this with Entrapta’s castle map, too?” She reaches into the pocket dimension of her belt and withdraws a small hexagonal hologram projector.

 “I didn’t know she had one.” You frown in disappointment.

 Adora takes in your expression and semi-discretely tucks the map away into her belt. She coughs into a fist and sets the other hand on her hip. “Well, I’m glad you found it first. C’mon, she’s cracked Adam’s security thing and we’re about to grill him for some answers about this place.” She holds up her fist as though part of the interrogation will involve some punches to an AI.

 “That’s okay. You guys have fun.” You tuck back into the book and turn the page. Another man stands on a mountaintop holding his sword aloft. A fork of lightning connects into the heavens above him. The runes written next to him here look familiar. You’ve seen them quite a few times throughout the pages. 

 (You’ll come to know their meaning soon enough. It’s super straight forward, really.)

 “You don’t wanna come check it out?” Her hands relax down to her sides and her face softens into concern.

 “No, I want to find something for my dads. This is the first cache I’ve found that hasn’t been lost to whatever calamity happened here.” You delicately caress the page. The works here feel so ancient they’re about to crumble into dust. You wish all of this could be in your dads’ library. Maybe you could get it to them. And help them sort it out while...

 “Oh, well… how long do you think you’ll be?” 

 You notice her tic of touching her arm. A tiny flicker of guilt draws your gaze up to Adora’s from the book. “A while. I have no idea what I’m looking at but something in here has to be worth taking home.”

 “Do you need some help? I can translate.” Adora looks around, taking in the room and the collection of texts and tomes. You know the thought of being helpful always makes her forget her discomfort and her hand forgets about the absence of a magical bracer once again.

 You raise an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t She-Ra needed to activate the Adam AI?” 

 “I mean, sure, but she’s on my schedule. Maaaybe we can find something useful in these books before we go asking him questions.” She smiles at you; it’s a different one. A gentle warmth and genuine care.

 It thaws your cold doubts and you return her smile. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

 She walks over and dusts off a small wooden chair and drops into it with a plock next to you. The antique creaks against the force. “Whatcha reading there?” She peers over your shoulder.

 “I don’t know.” You delicately turn the page to reveal another mosaic of the polygonal man against another terrifying foe. “It looks like a chronicle. Maybe something from their religion?”

 “No…” She squints. “I think that’s a kid’s book.”

 “You can’t be serious.” Your face drains and a different cold worms up the back of your neck.

 (You’re technically both right. It was still essential reading for any respectable Eternian.)

 “It’s a little hard to make out, but that looks like ‘She-Man’ in First Ones. May I?” She holds out her hands.

 You transfer the tome over to her and stand back up. “That’s a strange name.” You pace over to another set of shelves in the corner.

 She holds the book by the edges and looks at it from the side and upside down. Puzzlement consumes her. “Well, it’s hard to tell. This shape is like halfway between an ‘h’ and an ‘sh’ so I’m not sure which it should be. I mean if there’s a She-Ra wouldn’t there be a She-Man? Is there anything in this castle that references a woman?” She squints studiously at the book.

 Her-Ra . You hear Lance’s voice from that visit, Adora snorting cockily, and briefly marvel at how long ago it felt. “Anything else?” You grab a book bound in a verdant green and pull it from the shelf. Maybe a book on botany?

 “Something about a mountain made of snakes and a skull man. It’s hard to tell. Doesn’t sound like any kind of religion.” She sets the book back down in her lap in frustration.

 (This is how you regard our eternal foe? By the sorceress...)

 You dust the possible botany book off and eye her. “So says the woman that transforms into an eight-foot tall princess with rainbow powers.”

 Adora breaks her attention from her translations to glare up at you. “Hey, I never climbed a mountain of snakes. It’s always crystals and stuff.” She closes the book in a pop and a puff of dust rises from the pages. She sneezes forcefully and the book nearly slips from her lap.

 “Careful! These books are ready to fall apart.”

 “Sorry.” She sets the book down next to her more delicately.

 “What was that?” You walk back over and take a seat next to her again, resting the large green book on your lap.

 “Catra and I were never really into reading.” She pauses, eyes drifting to the side as though remembering something. “Like… at all.”

 You imagined the Fright Zone didn’t have an expansive library for young cadets to peruse at their leisure, like you did growing up. “Yeah, but you kept a journal.”

 “Well—” She stops mid-thought to stare at you. “Wait, what journal? What are you talking about?”

 A shock flushes through you. You attempt to mentally assemble what had and hadn’t been spoken about the journal and your time together. You’re so concerned about her boundaries that you’re scrambling to find something that is wrong. “You—You said… but in there you—I mean you were writing stuff about the rebellion.”

 “Those were reports .” She glares at you. But you note the uncharacteristic edge. She never was mad at you. Such a thing had never been part of your friendship. So why now?

 “There was stuff in them though. Other stuff. I don’t know if Swift Wind was part of a report.” You backpedal further, not quite sure what to say. You never knew how to lie.

 She sighs, and her face melts from a pinched glare into a softer smile. Was she teasing you? “Fine. How much did you read?”

 “I didn’t really read it. Just sometimes I was tidying up and the pages were messy and I’d organize them. I tried not to read them.” Your guilt reaches its crest and you exclaim, “I’m sorry! They just were—I didn’t know how much help you needed and I thought I’d try extra hard to help you out. So I—”

 She laughs and bumps you with her elbow. That gentle affection the two of you shared. “Ha! You call that helping? Nobody knew how to write an actual report, but I knew you guys wouldn’t leave it alone unless I let you. Those princess reports were horrible .” She smirks and catches your eye. A sparkle diffuses the last of your fear. “Well… Maybe not yours.”

 You relax again as you sway with her push. “Thanks.” You turn the cover of the book to her. “What’s this one about?”

 “It says ‘Language of Astronomy’.”

 “That could be good.” You open up to the middle and are greeted with a black page and a series of dots all connected by a central point. “Hey, this looks like the projection from the rebel ruins.”

 “You mean the rebellion writes like this?” She peers over at the book again.

 “No, different rebellion. Mara’s.” You tilt the book sideways, studying the diagram. “When Glimmer and I went searching for my dads during the war, remember? They uncovered a ruin that had a message from a rebel from Mara’s time. Maybe the star-writing is some sort of ancient First Ones code?”

 “Mara had a rebellion?”

 You glance up at her tentatively. Her voice is hushed, as though she uncovered some great secret.

 “She did,” you say gently, knowing Mara is a sensitive subject with her. “We don’t know much about it, though. Just that the rebellion made the Failsafe.”

 She reaches in front of her chest where the glowing runes sometimes still hang. She’s lost in thought.

 (I can’t help but recognize something in her expression. She knows of sacrifice. Of lineage and responsibility. Perhaps having She-Ra present is a good thing—here is another that could provide some guidance.)

 You reach a hand out and set it on her shoulder. “You okay?” 

 She looks up at you, eyes seeming to focus back on the moment. “Yeah, fine. Just been a long time since we talked about her. You think we’ll find anything about her here? I met a hologram of her when I was… well… rawr .” She pantomimes a berserk She-Ra with an angry face and fingers hooked like claws.

 You smirk. “We’ll find something, I’m sure.” You remove your hand from her and tap the diagram on the page again. “But back in the ruins, they had writing like that signal we picked up from Mara’s ship. The constellation writing.”

 “Ohhh.” Her eyes rake over the page with renewed motivation. “Wow, so if this can translate their writing, maybe we can give it to Entrapta and build a translator.”

 “ Or— ” You strain a look of excitement. “I could write the scanner into my tracker pad.”

 “But if we give it to Entrapta, maybe she could—” She stops to examine your face. Something seems to click for her and she raises an eyebrow at you. “Bow, what gives? Why are you in such a mood about Entrapta? She’s your friend.”

 You scowl down at the book in your hands. “I’m not in a mood . I’m just a little… upset.”

 “Bow, that’s what a mood is.”

 “Oh, c’mon Adora. You didn’t know what a mood was before you came to Bright Moon.” You flip the page onto another set of runes aligned around constellations.

 “Hey, I learned!” she says indignantly. “Don’t you make this feelings stuff harder than it already is.”

 (For “best” friends, you two certainly have a strange way of communicating with each other.)

 You sigh. “All right. Fine, I’m in ‘a mood’ about Entrapta.” The symbols on the page become unfocused to your eyes. “It’s been weird with her recently. Recently as in… since I can remember.”

 “You seem to get along well enough.” She scoots the stool around to face you better.

 “She’s barely spoken to me since Beast Island. And I’m in the Makers Guild . She is the head of the guild and we haven’t talked about anything! What did I do to upset her?” You shut the book with the same pop you scolded Adora for earlier.

 She stares at you, blinking. “Well… she’s just different, Bow.”

 “Just because she’s different doesn’t mean she can’t be my friend.” You pout for a moment before letting out a long breath. “What am I doing wrong? I have so much I want to show her and I want so badly to work with her. Especially now. She’s invented a whole new branch of tech and there’s so much we can use it for! I mean, Catra talks with her more than I do.”

 “Jeez, Bow, is that a little jealousy I hear?” She injects a certain joviality to her tone. You know she’s just trying to lighten the moon, but the statement still sends a shock through you. 

 “I… is it?” 

 “Maybe. Depends on why you’re being grumpy about it.” She studies you, hands fiddling in her lap. “Catra’s just talking with her because she’s Catra. She has that kind of way with people.”

 “What kind of way?” You turn to look at her sideways.

 She reaches out and touches your shoulder gingerly. Her eyes roam as she considers how to phrase what she wants to say. “She… For all her faults, Catra knows how to get people to trust her, and open up. I think she’s just good at giving them space to be themselves.”

 “But that’s what I do , Adora. That’s like my thing.”

 She flexes her fingers on your shoulder. “Bow… it’s kinda not.”

 You straighten into rigid perplexity. “What?” You can’t stop your voice from cracking.

 “Hang on, hang on.” She holds up a placating hand. “I’m not saying it’s bad, but sometimes maybe you’re a little… a little too eager. And we all love you for it, but I don’t think Entrapta likes that.”

 “So what do I do?”

 “I’ve had a few good conversations with her—” 

 Here you can’t help but think: Even Adora has talked to her more?

 “—and sometimes we just sit there for a while. I think that’s what Catra does, too. I think…” She squeezes your shoulder. “I think maybe she’s lonely sometimes, and she just likes someone there with her, that doesn’t expect anything from her.”

 You process that, trying to recall each time you’d interacted with Entrapta. You’d always thought that bringing her a problem or something to think about was the best way to engage with her, but...

 “Okay, I think I can do that.” You open your arms and draw Adora in. She squeezes you tight and you’re glad for the hug. You needed it. “You’re getting pretty good at this,” you say.

 She pats gently at your back. “I’ve had a good teacher, Bow.”

 “Aw, you’re just saying th—”

 “Hey, nerds!” Catra’s voice echoes from the corridor.

 Adora breaks abruptly from the embrace and turns toward the source of the call. “In here, Catra!”

 You hear her footsteps and a low, impressed whistle as she gets closer. She comes around the corner, hands on her hips, tail flicking curiously. Her eyes alight on you and Adora where you sit. “This is quite a stash.” She grazes her hand on one of the endcaps of the shelves and grimaces in disgust at the dust she scrapes up. The sheen of her black, leather jacket catches the dim light of the room.

 “I know! I can’t wait until we find something about She—” Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Adora staring and stop. Anxious curiosity sends your mind racing. Had Catra already talked to Adora today? You know you suggested she should, but it’s Catra and you wouldn’t have been surprised if she ignored your advice. You haven’t seen her since this morning. So what happened? Was there a fight? Was it about to start up again?

 (I mean, if only I could tell you, but it seemed like a very private moment and honestly I wish I was as in the dark as you are.)

 Catra fumbles nervously at the wing in the jacket which glints as it turns. Her face flushes red. You catch her eye before she quickly looks away. She isn’t blushing because of Adora.

 You start to say something when Adora stands, dusting off her knees and straightening her red jacket. She biases her weight on her left foot and sets her hand on her right hip. “You think you can just wear that around here?” She gestures dismissively at Catra.

 Catra narrows her eyes and looks to the side; a haughty tilt of her chin defies Adora. “You got a problem with that?” 

 Another aura creeps into the room. It’s unfamiliar to you. Strange. Charged.

 (If you were smart, you’d leave now.)

 Adora crosses the room with measured confidence. Each stride comes from a woman that you’ve scarcely seen. A self-assuredness that diminishes Catra with every step.

 Catra notices it too and turns to face the approaching woman. Adora reaches up and snatches at Catra’s collar. She jerks it up with a sharp snap. “Not at all.” She leans in and unfortunately the library is too quiet to disguise her whisper. “But you’re going to need to take it off, later.”

 Catra’s surprise is interrupted with another tug as Adora pulls her forward for a kiss. Her arms stiffen and protest briefly before relaxing and reaching around for support. 

 They break the kiss and your face feels hot enough to ignite the books around you.

 (I really feel for you right now. But I actually can meld into the books and be forgotten about. Only a sense of comradery in this discomfort keeps me here. You’re welcome, by the way.)

 Adora steps back and pops the collar of Catra’s jacket to match hers, leaving an entranced Catra in her wake.

 “Anyway, I… uhhh…” You’ve never seen a more flustered Catra and you might’ve laughed if you didn’t think it would lead to a claw to the face. She clears her throat. “What was I…?” 

 Adora tussles Catra’s bangs back with an affectionate hand. You have to admit, internally, that the messy hair does complete the leather jacket look.  “You were coming to tell us something.”

 Catra fusses with her hair, making it even messier unconsciously. “Oh… Entrapta’s done fixing the idiot AI with the weird hair. Adam or whatever.”

 ( She’s one to talk about weird hair. It was a traditional Eternian style, thank you very much.)

 You set the book aside, relieved the conversation is back on the rails. “Right, great! I can finish picking out a book for my dads later.”

 “D—Dads?” Catra looks at you in disbelief. 

 Adora smirks and entangles Catra’s hand with her own. She gives her a kiss on the cheek. Her recovery is immaculate. “You have to come meet them when we get back to Etheria. Lance and George are āmāzëng hösts.” She makes a fanciful gesture with her free hand.

 Catra steps back to look at her queerly. “Why are you talking like that? I didn’t knock something loose this morning did I?”

 A wicked grin as sharp as She-Ra’s sword blazes on Adora’s lips. “You weren’t that rough.” 

 (By all the power of Grayskull, make them stop.)

 You cough again, willing the blush from your cheeks. “They’re a long story.” 

 She glances suspiciously between you and Adora. Maybe a little confused as well. “Whatever. We’ll talk later. C’mon we’re about to crack the network and we all should be there.”

 You spare a look back at the stash. The ancient archive hidden away in a castle that stood longer than anything on Etheria. A little secret, all your own. But Adora had come to find you, and sit with you in it for a little while. A small part of you wondered whether you were grateful or even a little resentful for the intrusion.

 (Even when you want to hide, someone will come looking for you. It’s not so easy when destiny calls.)

 “What do you think Adam will say?”

 “I dunno. Something stupid I bet. What AI has ever had anything interesting to say?” Catra tugs on Adora’s hand, guiding her toward the exit.

 “Adora, wait.” You halfway lurch from your seat, but stop yourself just before grabbing Adora’s hand and pulling them to a stop

 Her and Catra stop, both looking at you. Catra’s gaze holds a tinge of impatience, but Adora’s is inquisitive and reassuring.

 You drop your outstretched hand and manage a creaky smile. “Th—Thanks.”

 She breaks into a warm smile. “Anytime, Bow. Now let’s go!” She grabs your sweater and pulls you with them. You catch up, and she drops an arm around your shoulder, grinning at you in the way that only she can. “Time to speak to another ancient AI. Just another day for the Best Friend Squad, right?”

 Catra groans, but the sound has lost its teeth since back in the day. “I’m still not used to how weird you guys are.” She leads the way from the room.

 As Catra turns, you see the lettering on the back that you never noticed earlier in the morning. The first letter is a little wobbly, but the rest of the gold thread is lovingly immaculate. “It says Wildcat?”

Chapter Text

 You break from the dusty and decrepit corridors of a castle that have been long-since abandoned a step behind Adora and Catra. The crystalline structures hum with the deep-rooted magical computations in their structures. A pentagonal arrangement of shining pillars of giant, purple amethyst loom around the central projector. Though, one pillar was a shattered mess of crystals on the opposite side of the room to its original plinth.

 (What in Subternia happened in here? Why would anyone desecrate this place, let alone you Etherians?)

 “Oh good! Everyone’s here!” Entrapta squeaks with joy as you walk in.

 Everyone really is here. Even Queen Angella and King Micah stand arm in arm  next to Glimmer, observing Entrapta’s last-minute tweaks to the console. Entrapta’s still typing away at her keyboard, Melog an almost protective presence behind her. Their glowing eyes track her finger’s dance across the keys with focused interest.

 The sight of the king and queen sends a strange mixture of joy and panic through your system that makes you think you might puke in spite of the smile on your face. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” you say around the tightness of your smile.

 “We’ve only just got here ourselves.” Micah waves his free hand dismissively at your concerns.

 “It’s good to see you Bow.” Angella’s smile at you takes you back to when you were a boy, just arrived at Bright Moon. You’d only ever known the love of your fathers, but Angella’s love had always felt different to you.

 Adora gives you a parting tap on the shoulder before she and Catra wander to the opposite side of the console. Catra whispers something in Adora’s ear that makes her snort with laughter, which you don’t want to examine any further.

 (Smart. It was: Let's just ditch Haircut and checkout that throne room again. Curse my powers of perception.)

 Instead, you study the frozen projection of Adam. His slow rotation never ceases, though the image of the chiseled jawline, dimpled chin, and firm cheekbones, jumps and glitches regularly. Splitting horizontally down the middle. Elongating grotesquely. It’s unsettling to watch.

 (Wait. This is Adam? I thought… huh. I mean, I can see the resemblance, but he doesn’t look like my Adam.)

 There’s a zip and a tingle in the air next to you. Glimmer encircles her arm around yours and leans in close. “Hey, hun.”

 You smile at her. That familiar touch calms your racing doubts. “Hey.”

 An uncertainty creeps along the back of your neck. You catch Entrapta’s eye just briefly before she returns to her work, and a pang clenches in your chest as you remember your failure from that morning. Why had you said anything? You should have just left her alone. It’s what she wanted from you, anyway.

 “You all right?” Glimmer draws your attention back with a squeeze of your arm. She knows.

 “Yeah, of course.” You tamp down the embarrassing thoughts and lean deeper into her touch. She was there for you when you needed it. “I found some books for my dads, actually. That’s why I was late. Adora was helping me translate.”

 Her face breaks into a smile watching your discomfort slip away. “That’s amazing! You’re gonna have to show me.” Her enthusiasm fades to curiosity as she watches Catra whisper something else to Adora and watch with a smug smirk as Adora’s face turns blood red.. “What’s with the jacket?”

 You sigh, pushing away the discomfort from earlier. “That’s a long story.”

 “Oh, c’mon! You can tell me.” She tilts her head as she watches the two of them. “I mean, it’s kind of hot...”

 (Do you Etherians know no forms of self control? Get it together.)

 “Are we ready?” Entrapta’s excitement bleeds into the room around you. She feels good about what’s about to unfold; clearly that’s a good sign. Though… Entrapta’s confidence wasn’t always the best indicator of success in a project. You can’t help but think of how she’d kept the corrupted data crystal despite knowing its effects...

 “I’ll tell you about it later.” You squeeze Glimmer’s hand as a promise before focusing back on the hologram.

 “Okay! Resetting the AI protocol in three, two, one!” Entrapta slams down a red button on her panel with a lock of her hair. You’re pretty sure she just put it there for dramatic effect.

 The hologram winks out, and you’re dropped into eerie dimness. The faint glow of the logic crystals in the room glints off your faces, illuminating the wary consternation on everyone’s faces except Entrapta’s, who was merely enraptured.

 “Uhh, Entrapta?” Catra crosses her arms and shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

 “I don’t understand.” Entrapta scratches her chin with a tendril of hair, triple-checking the diagnostics on her screen. “It should’ve reset right away. Maybe the power surge popped a—”

 The hologram flashes once, startling everyone to silence, before popping back into existence fully-formed and brighter than before. Adam’s chiseled face and chin-length, foppish hair alights the room in a peach and yellow haze. Melog shifts into their agitated red state, hackles raised, a low growl echoing from their bared teeth.

 “Hey, it’s okay.” Catra walks up to them and places a hand on their back. Melog quiets, but they still maintain a low, threatening growl. “No one should be afraid of someone with that haircut.”

 (Now that I see the hair, I get it. It looked better on my Adam. This one doesn’t have the bone structure to really pull it off. I would’ve recommended growing a beard to hide most of that.)

 “Administrator, please identify.” Adam’s nasal voice rings in the chamber, the accent strange. It’s a miracle they speak the same language as you at all. Though, you figure Entrapta could have whipped up a translator in a matter of seconds anyway.

 “Guess it’s my turn.” Adora steps forward, summoning the sword to her hand in the swift, practiced motion of a long-time veteran. She holds her weapon aloft. It looks different from when I remember it. It used to match Adam’s near perfectly, but now the blade is slimmer, and looks to be made of steel forged in the heart of a thaumetic star. “For the Honor of Grayskull!”

 (Oh, this I had to see. I’ve only been privy to a handful of He-Man transformations, but it was always a sight to behold. The power of it. I had to know how She-Ra compared).

 The blue runestone, of Eternian origin no doubt, embedded in the hilt flickers. Nacreous droplets emerge from the deeper planes of magical reality and suspend briefly in the air. That raw magic surges. A torrential flood represented by the flow of water crashing unrelentingly through the cosmos and threatening to shred reality. That magic alights deep from the core of Eternia. 

 (I wonder if they can feel it?)

 The rushing tide falls from her body and a form of raw incandescent magic suspends itself in the air. A flare from deep in the dimensions of another reality harmonizes with her being. Stepping from this energy is the demigod, She-Ra. Adorned in her white and gold regalia, similar, but different than I remember. There was more cleavage last time. And there were no leggings. The piercing incandescent prism overshadows Adam’s form and his hologram flickers.

 (Uh…. That’s it? Where’s the giant bolt of lightning striking down on the sword? Where’s the declaration of “ I HAVE THE POWER! ”? Why is it all just sparkles and rainbows and spinning around? It’s like she puts in no effort at all. How are She-Ra and He-Man considered contemporaries?)

 Adora is gone and in her place stands the eight-foot-tall warrior woman you’d known so well over the years. She-Ra’s Ever since the Heart, her polychromatic aura seemed that much more vibrant and radiant, burning away the remaining darkness in the room.

 She-Ra takes a step forward, staring down at the projection. It’s almost incongruous that the regal expression, framed by the golden tiara now observing the AI, is the same woman that a few minutes before had been blushing shyly at something Catra had just said.

 (Oh… okay… I see it.)

 You can’t help but notice Queen Angella’s jaw drop in astonishment and remember she hasn’t seen the new form. Perhaps it was a universal known that everyone was struck dumb upon first witnessing this She-Ra.

 She clears her throat and, when she speaks, there’s no denying that she’s still Adora. “Administrator, She-Ra.”

 “Greetings She-Ra, Princess of Power. I am Adam.” 

 You all hold your collective breath for a second. Entrapta’s work is put to trial now.

 “Okay, well I am Adora.” She touches her chest to indicate herself, blinks, then hastily adds, “I sometimes go by She-Ra, too.”

 “You’re She-Ra right now, dummy.” Catra rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

 Glimmer stifles a giggle next to you and you bump her lovingly.

 The inexplicably rectangular head continues its rotation, but says, “Adora, sometimes She-Ra, you have arrived at Castle Grayskull and I welcome you into our hallowed halls.”

 “Uh, thanks. We’ve uh... already pretty much made ourselves at home.” Adora drops her eyes to the side as a blush creeps up her cheeks. Which admittedly looks strange on She-Ra, especially with her glowing aura.

 “Dammit, Adora.” Catra covers her eyes with her hand.

 Adam’s protocols seem to be ignoring the strangeness of Adora’s replies (which we all should). “My diagnostics are telling me that there has been a significant lapse in time since I was last online. Also many systems are not as they recall from my memory banks.”

 “Oh, that was my work!” Entrapta holds her arm up and Adam flickers to turn to her. Melog growls again, crouching low in preparation to pounce. Entrapta side-eyes them but beams brightly. “Some of your circuits were running inefficient paths and I went ahead and rerouted them to improve response times and reduce heat loads.”

 “You were not authorized to perform this maintenance.”

 “Don’t worry, it was a cinch!” She waves him off.

 Adam’s disapproving scowl flickers as the head rotates back around. “Adora, sometimes She-Ra, your companions have been taking liberties in this sanctuary. This behavior could result in violations of our code and potential security sanctions against your people.”

 “Taking liberties?” Glimmer scoffs next to you. “It’s an abandoned castle. Who cares?”

 You bend down so you can speak quietly in her ear without disrupting. “He does. We’re kind of in his house right now.”

 “Whatever, he’s dead. What does he care?”

 “Shhh.”

 She twists her face into a grumpy frown as though she’d just been grounded and turns back to Adam.

 “Uhh, sorry Adam, sir. We’ll, uh, curtail our activities.” Adora painfully struggles for etiquette. She punctuates her declaration with two finger guns and a smile. 

 You watch Catra slap her hand over her face once more from behind Adora.

 “See to it that you do. I would not wish for the proceedings to be disrupted by any further transgressions.”

 (Okay this definitely isn’t my Adam. He never would have said “transgressions” of his own volition.)

 “Uh, what proceedings?” Adora scratches the back of her neck. “We just got here.”

 “My records detect a span of time over a millennium since my last activations, but my systems do not detect a He-Man entity online at this time. Therefore it is assumed that the vessel has perished and transference did not occur.” Adam’s face flickers again.

 “Ohhhh, that trapezoid thingie was supposed to be a square?” Adora takes the sword and sets it point-down on the floor. “Huh. That makes a lot more sense.”

 “I do not understand this question.”

 “Nevermind.” She clears her throat. “What… who is He-Man? Are they another form of She-Ra?”

 ( Another form of She-Ra. Hahaha. Oh, I haven’t laughed like that in a millenia myself.)

 “No. He-Man is the wielder of elemental magic and the protector of power of the universe. He-Man holds the power of Grayskull.”

 Glimmer scoffs again,even louder this time. “That sounds a lot like She-Ra there, buddy.”

 You resist the temptation to shush her again.

 “Okay…” Adora shoves the tip of her sword into the ground where it stands freely and crosses her arms over her chest, muscles of She-Ra bulge. (Was she flexing at a hologram?) “So why do we need to find a new He-Man? Hate to break it to you, but Grayskull is kind of in ruins at the moment. Not much power to protect here anymore.”

 “That information is reserved for the vessel of He-Man; only he may know the true purpose of power.”

 “Argh, I knew talking to an AI would be infuriating.” Catra grunts next to Melog, one of her fangs bared as she sneers. “Look, Haircut, how are we supposed to find him if one isn’t around?”

 “He-Man is not to be found.” The hologram does not emote necessarily, but there is a definite tic to his eye at the nickname. But his dignity allows him to push through. “It seems a tragedy has befallen the galaxy. I cannot find an identifying beacon for a living vessel. It seems my people are no longer of this universe.”

 “There was…” Adora swallows, her eyes dropping away as she searches for the words. “There was a force, a monster that assimilated entire worlds, galaxies. We… We stopped him.” 

 A catch in her voice carries more than just the weight of Prime’s destruction. You’ve always known how much Adora struggled with her heritage as a First One. You consider stepping across the room to console her, but she recovers quickly and meets Adam’s eyes once more.

 “You speak of Horde Prime?” Adam flickers again.

 (What is a Horde Prime? The mastermind behind the deeds of our Eternal Foe?)

 Adora nods solemnly. “I do.”

 Adam pauses. He freezes mid-frame and seems unable to respond or process what was said.

 “Uh oh.” Entrapta’s keys begin clicking furiously to resolve whatever error had just occurred. She startles back with a yelp when he speaks up again.

 “It seems you are correct. I cannot detect his signature in the universe. But that does not help find a vessel for He-Man.”

 Catra grunts in frustration, reflecting the waning patience in the room for Adam’s deflective answers. “You’re a First One, right? Can’t you just give Adora the power?”

 For the first time the hologram shows a true emotion. Adam stares at Catra aghast. “He-Man cannot be wielded by a woman , much less She-Ra herself.”

 (Huh… he was 50% right. Traditionally the role of He-Man was indeed typically accepted by men, but I have a few friends on Preternia that would disagree that only men could be He-Man.)

 “There’s a lot of stupid rules going around here,” Adora mutters, putting a fist on her hip.

 Adam did not seem to hear her. “If there is not a suitable vessel, then a new one must be selected. We must find a new vessel of He-Man. His appointment and duty are vital to the balance of the universe. Even without Horde Prime, reality is in precarious balance currently. We must find a worthy being.”

 “What’s the big deal?” Catra’s tail flicks behind her in agitation as she glares down Adam. “What more evil is in this stupid universe?”

 “That information is classified only for—”

 “Blah blah blah, right, He-Man is special—need to know only. Whatever.” Catra gestures with impatience. “I knew talking to an AI would be annoying.”

 “A new vessel of He-Man must be selected to balance the universe. Without He-Man, the—”

 “Right, right. Balancing things. I’ve heard it all before.” Adora sighs and scratches her chin as she considers. She glances at Adam and then to you. Something sparks in her eyes. “Okay, so make it Bow.”

 Everyone turns to you. Even Adam.

 Reality slips away.

 Your stomach plunges through the floor past the deepest pits of Eternia and into the core of the very planet itself.

 (It’s very green down there, FYI.)

 “A—Adora, what are you…?” Blood has drained from your face. You feel cold. Shakey. Like you might pass from this life at this very moment.

 “Is this man a worthy vessel of He-Man? What qualities of valor does he have?”

 “Oh, lots of valor. You should’ve heard his speech on Beast Island.” Adora smirks at you. “And there was this one time he—”

 “That does not indicate a tenant of Valor, Adora, sometimes She-Ra.” Adam’s flat tone is dismissal enough without the hard stare the AI has fixed you with.

 “I mean, it’s him or Micah.” She shrugs, dislodging her sword from the stone as though this were indicator enough of a decision having been made.

 You glance over to King Micah, who has partially obscured himself behind a startled Angella. He draws a knife hand over his throat at her and shakes his head vehemently. You knew from experience these were signs Adora did not pick up on easily.

 Adam turns to King Micah. “Is this one worthy of the power of He-Man?”

 “I’m…” King Micah freezes, but takes a deep breath. He rallies himself and straightens his spine, stepping out from behind his wife. “Adam of Grayskull, I am not a worthy vessel of He-Man. My honor and valor pale in comparison to Bow’s. Of all beings in the galaxy, the universe, he is the man that is most worthy of any great power.” His posture is regal, commanding. It reminds you of when he met the leaders of the planets you’ve visited on your travels to restore magic to the universe. A voice of calm and certainty. However there is the faintest strain in the formality. He doesn’t revel in speaking this way. “I would personally appoint him as well to be the wielder of such power. He will uphold whatever trials await him.”

 Queen Angella holds his arm gently; a compassionate smile adorns her face. She turns her gaze on you which seems to turn your spine to glass. “I too can vouch for the courage of Bow. He served his kingdom well for many years and I do not know a better man.”

 It takes you a moment to realize that Glimmer is gripping your arm even tighter and pulling you forward toward the AI. “Yes! Bow would be perfect! Go on and zap him or whatever?”

 “ Zap me? ” you squeak out in terror and confusion.

 “Well, that’s what happened with Adora right, when she got the sword? It was like zap-boom! She-Ra! ”

 Adora taps her chin. “It wasn’t much of a zap, more of an all-encompassing sensation of—”

 “GUYS!” Your outburst stops them short. You cover your face with your hands and attempt to breathe in deep to collect yourself. One. Two. You lower your hands and face the AI. “Why don’t we let Adam finish before we do any zapping. ”

 “Very well.” Adam examines you with a scrutinous eye. “Bow…”

 A coldness still lingers in your stomach and you swallow it down. “Bow, Son of Lance and George, if I may, sir.” You nod to Adam.

 Adam raises an eyebrow, but continues, “Bow, Son of Lance and George, will you accept the power and responsibility of He-Man and face the Trials of Character and Honor? Will you uphold the virtues of He-Man whatever strife you may encounter? And will you be an ally of She-Ra and fight for the peace of the universe?”

 “I…” You swallow again. Glimmer grabs you tighter around the arm. 

 (Say yes, Bow. It has been a millenia and the universe needs a new He-Man. If your friends speak truly of you and if what I have observed of you in your honest self, then there is no other choice.)

 “I will, Adam of Grayskull.”

 “Very well. Prepare yourself. When you are ready, seek the gates of the Crystal Caverns to begin the trials.”

 With that, Adam winks off. She-Ra’s golden light casts everyone’s face in wide-eyed disbelief. Your heart pounds in your chest. A collapse looms in your psyche and anxiety comes roiling up inside of you. You look at each of them, your friends and family, searching for answers, something saying that you misheard what just happened.

 “I… I need a moment.” You turn, pull from Glimmer’s grasp, and walk down the first empty hallway you can find, leaving the silence behind you.

 You raise the tracker pad and take a snapshot of another page. There is a corresponding beep and a cycling on the screen. You review the results. Another tale of He-Man scrolls through the text translated from the runes. 

 In the times of He-Man and the tales of Eternia, there was a great plague that swept the land. An evil spell by the creation of his foe Skeletor infected those that it touched with a disease of crystal, freezing their bodies solid. His eternal companion Man-At-Arms was infected, and frozen into a crystalline prison. He-Man sought the cure to this great blight, but the skills to reverse the spell were beyond even the powers of the Great Sorceress.

 Only one being could save the realms of He-Man. It was a great dragon which long slumbered in the icy wastes of the north. He-Man quested for this dragon through blizzard and foes. He laid waste to trolls and bested the Ice Hackers with his mighty, bear hands.

 (You have to pause and adjust a setting on your tracker pad to change it to “bare.” First Ones is a simple, phonetic language. You have to infer the meaning, which is difficult to program into a translator. It’s really something you have to intuit.)

 He would not be deterred from curing this woe caused by Skeletor.

 It is there that he met the great dragon Granamyr, a most ancient of beings that resided in Eternia. Many eons had passed under his watch, and only he knew the spell of reversal. Only he could save Eternia.

 “It has been a thousand years since I last spoke with humans. I found them vague, greedy, warlike, untruthful. They barged into my home. They begged for my help and when I gave it they never appreciated it. No thanks, not even a gift.”

 The dragon Granamyr dealt only in exchange and humans had not been able to honor such a bargain. He asked for the impossible, to travel to the forbidden woods and smite the oldest tree, one that has stood since the birth of Eternia.

 When faced with this task, He-Man would not act. He refused to extinguish one life for another. For he was a man of valor.

 (Sometimes obnoxiously so. But he was always the best among us for a reason.)

 The dragon Granamyr accepted this gift, for he saw the good and honor in human kind that He-Man brought, and the crystal spell was reversed, He-Man’s most ardent companion Man-At-Arms returned to his side.

 (A true classic. One of his finest accomplishments. I remember that day well.)

 “Oh man.” You bite your thumb.

 There’s an explosion of sparkles and a swelling of warmth next to you. You had long stopped being surprised by her sudden appearance. “Hey, hun!” Her weight leans against you.

 Your eyebrow twitches. “I think we have different ideas how long a ‘moment’ is.”

 “You’ve been here for hours .” She sighs dramatically and slumps onto your shoulders, draping her arms over you and eclipsing the tracker pad in your hands. When you acquiesce to hold one of her hands, she smiles and adds, “I wanted to check on you. Plus, your earring has been giving me some really grumpy vibes.”

 You cup your hand over the gift from Entrapta. You don't think Entrapta had considered the full consequences of wiring a direct pathway between you and Glimmer. But her concern cuts a thread of your winding irritation. “Thanks.” You lean back into her.

 “Whatcha reading?” Glimmer grabs the edge of the tracker pad and tilts it to squint at the screen. “What’s a… Granamyr . Is that what they call grandparents on Eternia?”

 “I thought it might be a good idea to see what kind of hero He-Man was.”

 “Ohhh? Is he daring, dashing, and brave like you?” she says offhandedly while scrolling through the texts.

 (We certainly hope so. Otherwise I am wasting my time.)

 “It’s worse than that.” You sigh.

 “How can it be worse? What’s he got on you?” Glimmer pauses scrolling and her eyes widen. “Wow, he talked down a dragon? I didn’t even know there were dragons.”

 “We saw one on Beast Island when we…” You stall on the thought and change course quickly. “Anyway, there were, and he just talked it down. Just convinced it to save the day. How could I do anything like that?”

 (It’s easy to be convincing when one believes strongly in their convictions. As the strongest in the universe, He-Man always has the strongest convictions. You’ll learn.)

 Glimmer sits back and raises an eyebrow. “Bow, I’m pretty sure you could talk a dragon’s ear off, and help it through a personal crisis it had the past century.” 

 “You don’t know that. He was a dragon, Glimmer. A dragon . And I’m just a man. I’d just choke, die, and be a snack.” You set the pad on the floor next to you and cover your face with your hands. “How can I even hope to be a hero like that?”

 “Do you think any of us knew what we were doing?” Glimmer nudges you gently but you don’t emerge. “Do you think Adora had any idea she could do the things she could?”

 “That’s different. She’s Adora . Of course she could handle it.”

 She’s always been that way. She always knew the right thing to do. Even when you didn’t. You always figured that was why she was She-Ra.

 “Bow, I think—”

 A creaking of the door to the library interrupts her. Your head shoots up from your hands in anguish to have another interloper. Adora rounds the corner and peers past the shelves. She flushes when she sees you. “Oh, sorry, sorry! I just wanted to check—and Glimmer’s already… I’ll just be going. Sorry!”

 You sigh, leaning your elbows heavily on your knees. “No, that’s okay, Adora. You don’t have to leave.”

 She makes a series of frantic gestures and finger guns back towards the door. “No, no! I gotta, just, there’s things that Entrapta needs me to do as She-Ra. You know, just got pshew-zap some things. Just um—”

 “No I don’t!” Entrapta’s voice calls from above. How’d she…?

 “Entrapta!” Adora slaps a hand over her face and squeezes the words out through clenched teeth. “Not helping !” 

 Entrapta’s head pops out from a vent above you, her pigtails dangling halfway down from the ceiling. “Why not? Everyone is in here and I thought I’d see what all the excitement was!” 

 You gulp and your voice is a high-pitched squeak. “Everyone?”

 “Yep!” Entrapta taps her visor. “My internal schematic biometric tracking algorithm indicated Catra was on her way, too.”

 It’s then that Catra appears over Adora’s shoulder, arms crossed and smirking. “Hey, nerds.”

 “Catra!” Adora spins on her heels, the rubber of her boots squeaking on the granite floor. “I told you I wanted to go for a walk!”

 “Yeah, and you’re about as subtle as Adam’s haircut.” 

 (What is that supposed to mean?)

 “I figured you were going to talk with Bow.” Catra rounds the shelf and laces an arm through Adora’s. “Hey, Arrow Boy,” she says silkily as she waves at you.

 Your heart slams against your ribcage. You shake your head vehemently. This is too much. “Guys, I really wasn’t planning on…” Your words jumble in your head.

 Entrapta swings around and drops onto the ground in a seat next to you, legs crossed and easily balanced on a pigtail. “Wooow. I didn’t know this was hiding in here! I wonder if all of this data has been digitized?” She snatches a book from one of the shelves with her hair and drops her visor down to start reading.

 You make another high-pitched noise in the back of your throat.

 Adora and Catra enter a little more cautiously than Entrapta, but still sit next to you on the other side of Entrapta. Adora eyes you warily, trying to gauge your mood. You wish you could turn invisible and skulk away like Melog.

 “I know you said you needed a moment, but we wanted to check on you,” Adora says.

 “No, that’s okay. I really just needed time. I was about to come see you guys. I’m almost done studying,” you stammer.

 “Bow, take it down a notch.” Glimmer pats your leg. “I think we all are worried about you.”

 “Yeah… right. Worried.” You swallow again, heart still racing in your chest.

 Catra grabs your tracker pad and starts scrolling through the text. “What have you been reading?”

 “There’s lots of He-Man texts in here. I got a translator working and have been working my way through them.”

 “You did?” Entrapta looks up from the book she was studying. She steals the pad out of Catra’s hands and sets the book aside.

 Catra appears to be stuck in indignation with a twitching eyebrow. She takes a breath to recover her patience. “Anything good?”

 “Glimmer and I were talking about a dragon that he negotiated into stopping some kind of magical crystal plague.” You fidget in your lap with a wrinkle of your pants.

 “Wait, a dragon?” Adora says. “Why do all the other She-Ras and He-Mans get dragons and I don’t?”

 Catra smacks her on the shoulder to abate her ingidancy. “Did you not hear the part about the plague?”

 “Well, yeah, just…” Adora gestures pointedly at the books stacked up next to you. “ Dragons , Catra.” Her eyes glitter with excitement.

 “What other stories have you read? I’m sure he’s got some faults.” Glimmer zips away from you, materializes across the room, and returns with another book in her lap.

 “He’s perfect. I can’t believe some of the stories that he has written about him. I saw one, when Horde Prime first started colonizing and attacking the universe, he was at the front lines fighting him off. She-Ra was even there!”

 “Ooo, what’d she do?” Adora leans in with a curious and childlike glint in her eyes.

 “I… actually, I don’t know. They just mentioned that she was there.” You scratch your chin. (I heard she mostly just kept transforming her sword into helmets and shit. I’m not sure she did much.) “I really haven’t found much on the exploits of She-Ra since I’ve been here.”

 “Oh.” She sits back, defeated.

 “Well, what’d he do?” Glimmer opens up the book next to you and on it there are stylized images of flowers. Alien ones that twinkle in a light that somehow seems impossible on the pages of a book.

 “Ah ha!” There’s a pop next to you as Entrapta pries one of the protective covers off your pad. You feel a squirm in your spine. But you know better than to stop her.

 “Anyway, he managed to take down one of Horde Prime’s flagships with a grappling hook.”

 Catra looks at you quixotically. “You mean, like gummed up the engines or something?”

 “No! He was standing on Eternia, threw a grappling hook into the air, and snatched the flagship out of space.”

 “Oh, c’mon Bow, that’s ridiculous!” Glimmer punches your arm gently.

 “I swear! It’s what they wrote down, anyway.”

 “So he took down a Horde ship.” Catra shrugs and reclines back lazily. “Adora racked up a few of those.”

 “No, Catra. A whole flagship !” You spread your hands out to indicate the immense, comparative size. “You don’t think that’s a big deal?”

 Her eyebrows fall into lopsided skepticism. “Well, I doubt he used a grappling hook. Not like he could’ve hidden that much cord in his ass. But it’s probably some overblown story. I get the feeling that these guys really liked to talk themselves up.”

 (You were reading historical texts! They’re the most accurate documents on Eternia!)

 “Maybe he had a portal belt or something like Entrapta got me?” Adora offers, pulling a hexbolt driver from the belt subconsciously, which Entrapta snatches immediately from her hand with a tendril of hair.

 “That’s highly unlikely.” Entrapta looks up from the pad, while still turning the driver. “I have found no record of localized and miniaturized portal tech like I’ve invented. I also suspect that the hugh-mans did not have the technological capabilities that I now possess. Because I invented it!” She breaks into a short cackling laughter.

 “Hugh-mans?” You turn to her.

 “It’s what they call themselves in their data records.” She returns to your pad; it is getting disassembled into smaller and smaller components by the second.

 You tighten your jaw.

 “I guess they wouldn’t call themselves the First Ones then.” Glimmer flips the page of the book and strange creatures that appear to be a hybrid of animals and plants have diagrams and pointers for biological appendages. Their functions encoded in the First Ones’ writing. “Bow, these stories are ridiculous .”

 “Maybe.” You look down at your lap again and she bumps your side. 

 “Hey, she’s right.” Catra sits back and props herself up with her arms behind her. “They’re kind of on an ego trip around here, if you haven’t noticed. He-Man can’t really be that big of a deal.”

 ( Excuse me?)

 Adora’s face twists into a grumpy frown. “I mean, of course they are. If they only have footnotes of She-Ra in here. I don’t see how a He-Man could’ve upstaged her.”

 A thought flits through your mind, but you bite it back before you speak it. There might not be a favorable record of She-Ra after Mara’s acts. You change the subject. “Anyway, I was hoping that there could be a hint of the trials or whatever I’m about to face. He didn’t exactly sell them as being easy.”

 “Any luck?” Glimmer closes the book next to you.

 “None.” Her violet sparkling eyes enamor you for a moment. Concern bleeds into her face in the most subtle ways sometimes.

 “Well that’d be pretty dumb if they wrote about them.” Catra pulls your attention away from Glimmer.

 “She’s got a point,” Adora says. “I don’t think it’d make sense if you could study them before go-time.”

 You sigh, shoulders slumping. “I was just hoping. Maybe one of the stories I read might help?”

 “Could. Who knows what’s down there?” Adora shrugs and glances around the library. “The crystal castle seemed to go on forever .”

 Catra groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

 There’s the thought again. You didn’t want an audience, but you didn’t know if you’d have a chance to ask any other time. “Adora… Why did you pick me?”

 (Who else could she have chosen? The old man with a bug fixation?)

 A silence lingers after the question much like the one in the hologram room. You read her face and she looks at you earnestly, visibly searching for the truth.

 “Why wouldn’t she?” You turn to Entrapta and your tracker pad seems to have reversed entropy and is now whole again; just a couple access ports are still open. Entrapta has raised her mask and looks as though she is curious why you cannot see an obvious finding. Maybe this one understands your budding greatness?

 “She… I… I don’t see how I can be… you know… that.” You frown.

 “Well that’s stupid.” You all turn to Catra who has her arms crossed in front of her. She looks at your confused faces and stiffens. “What? She has a point. Why wouldn’t we choose him?”

 Entrapta slides the pad back into your lap. You grasp it protectively. Doubt still rises and falls in you like a rolling tide.

 “Bow.” Adora’s voice now captures your attention. “I don’t think anyone in the galaxy—er, universe I guess, would argue with my choice. If I had to pick a He-Man, it’d be you every time.”

 “Yeah, but why? I’m not even sure what I am most of the time.”

 “Bow, cut the crap.” Glimmer encloses your hand with hers. “You’re Bow . That’s why you’re the best pick.” 

 You look to her. “I’m not sure what that means. I haven’t really been anything. My dads wanted me to be a historian and I didn’t do that. I wanted to fight in the rebellion and I wound up just getting taken hostage. I wanted to be a maker and I can’t invent anything other than gags. And I can’t even protect my friends anymore. I’m nothing .”

 “Well that’s just irrational—” The eyes of the room turn to Entrapta again. She panics, blushes, and you see her resist a reaction to close her mask. “I… ah… well, first off, you’re in this room studying like a historian so you might not have the title but you possess all of the qualifications. Second, you are a maker. The modifications you’ve made to that pad are fascinating and you’ve done them all by yourself. Science is all about the process of solving problems. It’s one of the tenants of the Makers Guild and you’re a star member.”

 You stare. So does everyone else. 

 (This one may truly understand.)

 She looks left and right, a small awkward smile creeps onto her face. “I… ah…”

 “I’m glad someone said it.” Glimmer blurts out. “And three , Sea Hawk was the one that got you kidnapped and he’s an idiot. Bow,” Glimmer turns to you again, “you’re not just the only pick for this quest, you’re the perfect one . The universe is going to love having you as He-Man. Even if they don’t know it yet.”

 You feel a tear well in your eye, and you envelope each other with a hug. (Another strange Etherian tic that I still have not adjusted to.) You mutter a quiet “thank you.”

 The rest of the room moves in as well, and you feel everyone’s embrace surround you.

 “Thanks, guys.” 

 The group hug unravels after Entrapta releases them all from her circle of hair. 

 “Anytime, Arrow Boy.” Catra stands and dusts off her knees. “So, you done studying?”

 You take up the tracker pad, eyes taking in the screen but mind not processing the information. It’s a little blurry through the tears. “I’d like a little more time, if that’s all right.”

 She shrugs. “Suit yourself. C’mon Adora, I’m starving.”

 Adora leaps to her feet. “Great! Me too.” 

 “You’re always starving.” Catra rolls her eyes, but you spy the brief grin she hides.

 “Don’t stay here too long, Bow. And let me know if you need some more translātiöns.” Adora winks at you.

 A smile cracks your face. “I’ll be out to get some food soon. Thanks guys.”

 Catra grabs Adora’s hand and leads her out the doorway.

 “I’ll give you some space again. Keep at it, hun.” Glimmer kisses you on the cheek. “Entrapta, would you like a teleport out of here with me?”

 “I’d…” She looks to Glimmer, then to you. “Could I have a word with Bow?”

 Glimmer opens her eyes wide. “Uhm. Sure.” She looks confused, but shrugs. “See you soon, hun.” She blinks away in shimmering dust.

 Entrapta looses a tense breath. “Okay, that’s better! I have something to show you.”

 You blink away your momentary surprise. “Why couldn’t everyone else see it?”

 “Oh, they could. It’s just harder to explain to everyone at the same time.” She reaches with her hair and holds your tracker pad in front of you, keying on the screen. “You’ve been doing some interesting work on here, Bow! I didn’t know you could miniaturize a penetrating radar like this! I think we can adapt a similar system on Darla as a ship scanner for other vessels. This is ingenious! ”

 You smile bashfully, feeling a flush on your cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

 “No! I mean it. I wanted to show you something I have been working on, too.” She flips through the screens and opens one up that has a series of schematics with arrows. They look like some of your inventions but there’s a different set of wiring and circuitry in them.

 “What’re these?” You reach out and zoom in on one of them.

 “There’s—well, I’ve been making some adjustments to the magical quantum tunneling that I have unlocked and combining it with the portal space tech. I think I can make princess arrows.”

 (So what does that mean? Does it mean arrows that shoot princesses? How many princesses does Etheria have?)

 You squint your eyes. It takes you a moment to realize what she said. “Wait, you can what?”

 “Yeah! It’s a simple matter of finding the resonant magical frequencies of the different princesses and you can tap into the same elemental magic. I’ve been working on them for a while.”

 “A while?” You gingerly take the pad from her.

 “Oh, yeah. I needed to finish the circuitry, but now that I am almost done, I need some help.”

 “From me?” You look over the pad at her.

 “Well, you know your arrow tech better than anyone, so I can’t exactly be building them without you.” She grins in a wide toothy smile.

 “I’d—” You catch yourself from crying, but only just. “I’d really like that.”

 “Great! We can get started right away! I’ll be right back with the schematics!”

 She lifts into the air with tendrils of hair into an unseen vent above, leaving you with just enough time to have a happy cry in private.

 (I mean… happy cry in semi-privacy. You still didn’t know I was watching, after all. Did I make a note of this cry? Of course. Did I wish I could pat you on the back to reassure you some? Sure. Why not.)