Chapter Text
Adora paced restlessly back and forth. Her body was tight as a coiled spring, ready for action, but there was none to be had. No training, no missions. She was faced with her least favorite part of the day; idle time.
Bow and Glimmer were off on their own somewhere. Catra, after days of hypervigilance, was finally getting some real sleep. Adora’s plan was to leave her with Melog and volunteer for guard duty. Lonnie and Rogelio beat her to it, and shooed her away when she tried to stay with them. Most of the camp was preparing food for the evening. Adora didn’t know the first thing about cooking, and besides that, she could see by the amount of help that she wasn’t needed.
Adora let out a huff, and kicked a pebble with the toe of her boot. She hated feeling so aimless.
Following the path of the stone with her eyes, Adora caught a patch of white out of the corner of her eye. She was instantly on alert, staff at the ready, then released a sigh. It was only Hordak, sitting on an overturned log.
A shadow of memory descended over her. Two red eyes glaring at her through the darkness, a harsh commanding voice freezing her to the spot.
Shaking her head to dispel the vision, Adora glanced back to the center of camp, where Kadroh was assisting with the cooking. It was jarring how different the two of them were. Kadroh was friendly, excitable, eager to be of help wherever he was needed. Hordak by contrast was dour and grumpy, keeping mostly to Entrapta’s side.
Where is Entrapta, anyway? Hordak and the princess of Dryl were always together. Yet here he was, sitting alone, with Entrapta nowhere in sight.
Adora watched Hordak carefully from afar. He wasn’t doing anything outwardly suspicious. Just sitting, looking out toward the direction of the woods. Still Adora was ill at ease. What does he want? she kept asking herself. Is he really here just because of Entrapta? Is he using us to strike at Prime, and once Prime’s out of the way… will he try to conquer Etheria again? I can’t trust that he won’t.
Resuming her pacing, Adora shook her head. She was beginning to come to terms with the fact she knew very little about Hordak. He’d seldom left the shadows of his sanctum while Adora lived in the Fright Zone. How much of what she heard about him was true? How much was embellished by Shadow Weaver?
How much had Shadow Weaver chosen not to say?
Adora made her decision. I have to face him. He’s alone right now, and it might be my only chance. I don’t want to bring Entrapta into it if I don’t have to.
Hordak glanced up at her approach. “Force Captain.”
Adora tensed, her grip tightening on her staff. Hordak stiffened at the same moment. A look of shock passed over his face, and his ears shifted backward for a brief instant.
“I apologize,” he said, breaking away from her gaze. “It was unintentional.”
Adora nodded her acceptance. Hordak hadn’t meant anything by what he said. It was automatic, a habit. Still it gave her a shiver. “Yeah. I get it.”
“Was there something you needed, Adora?”
Even the pointed use of her name made her feel strange. Adora squared her shoulders. “Yes, actually. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I want to make this clear: if you’re here to use us as a way to get Prime out of the way, it won’t work. You won’t ever get your hands on Etheria. I’ll make sure of it.”
Hordak’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but otherwise he made no move. “Have you come here to strike me down?”
His response took Adora by surprise. “I… no?”
“Then what is the purpose of your threat?”
“I, er, want you to know you can’t try anything.”
“And now you have done so.” He looked away. “I have no ambitions to acquire control of Etheria. If a warning is all you have come to say, you should go now.”
Adora felt an unexpected twinge of guilt. Hordak hadn’t done anything against the Alliance since returning to Etheria. So far, he’d been a helpful ally. Yet nothing he did could erase the damage he caused as leader of the Etherian Horde. Hordak knew that. He accepted it without even trying to defend or justify himself. That had to count for something.
She sat down on the edge of the log, leaving a generous amount of space between them. Hordak as he was now seemed so different from the imposing monster of her nightmares. Adora assumed he would have more fight in him. As more of his memories returned, he would return to the harsh unyielding leader he once was. Instead, she was seeing the opposite. Compared to the man she saw aboard Darla, Hordak was becoming a shadow of himself, retreating further and further into the background.
Adora wasn’t ready to let her guard down just yet. “What do you plan to do after the war?” she asked.
His ears lowered a fraction. “Why does every Etherian ask me this question?” he growled. “Even Entrapta --” Hordak stopped himself, releasing a harsh sigh. “It is a useless question. I do not have a choice in what happens to me after the war.”
Adora frowned, but she could find no words to argue. His voice had gone hollow, and in her mind’s eye Adora saw a legion of blank faces staring back at her. All of the clones were weapons crafted for a single purpose, given no choice to decide otherwise. Just like Light Hope tried to do with her.
Squirming in her seat, Adora tried not to think about it. The memory of the pull of magic moving her body, intent on forcing her to unleash untold destruction, made her mouth go dry. After all that time thinking she was following some important destiny, she was acting as a weapon for a long-dead empire.
An odd detail caught her attention. Hordak came to Etheria through a portal, just like me. If that’s true, who brought him here? Prime didn’t know Etheria was even here until we were out of Despondos. Did Light Hope --?
“Why are you still here?”
“Oh! Um…” Adora faltered. “Sorry, I was thinking, we both aren’t from Etheria, and…”
Hordak watched her blankly.
“Sorry,” she repeated, leaning her staff against her shoulder. “It’s nothing.”
He did not press her for answers. Adora appreciated the silence, though it gave her mind room to return to old preoccupations. During these times even the feel of the staff beneath her fingers was a reminder of the broken sword. Her friends told her time and again not to feel guilty, but still she did. Etheria needed She-Ra, not Adora.
Bow’s right, she told herself firmly. I did what I had to do. If I didn’t… none of us would be here. I made my choice. But I wish...
As she sat there, Adora found a strange kinship with Hordak. She had been raised to believe in the righteousness of the Horde, and once she learned the truth, Adora had to make the choice to cut ties and fight against the people she once considered family. Now Hordak was making the same choice, in his own way.
When Adora made her choice, the Sword of Protection made her path clear. She joined the Alliance and fought for them as She-Ra. Now, just as it was for Hordak, her path was less certain. More than anything, Adora hoped the universe would supply a new answer for her life. She searched for some piece of her not defined by the sword, or her life as a soldier for the Horde. Perhaps there was a clue in her past that would lead her to knowing who she was truly meant to be.
“It seems so weird that both of us ended up on Etheria because of a portal,” she said at last. “I thought it was you that brought me here, until I found out it was Light Hope. She brought me here so I could activate the Heart of Etheria.”
Adora sighed heavily. “This is a longshot, but I have to ask: Do you know anything about the portal? About where I was from?”
It was difficult to read Hordak’s expression. “I am sorry, Adora. I cannot help you. The only detail I know for certain is that the portal coordinates contained what I believed to be a Horde signature. It was faint, indistinct. I came to that place in the mistaken belief Prime had sent for me. I had hoped… to leave this place. There was no trace of the portal when I arrived. Only you.”
“Why would there be a Horde signal?”
“I do not know. It is a strong possibility you once lived on a Horde-occupied planet, or you were taken from a Horde vessel of some kind."
Adora’s heart constricted painfully. “Whatever ship, o-or planet, I was from… it’s gone, isn’t it?”
“Without knowing your planet of origin, I cannot say. Horde-occupied planets survive only as long as their resources are of use. Resistance… results in destruction.”
Adora was numb with shock. She leaned forward, shoulders hunched, slowly resting her head in her hands. Her mind strained to find some shred of memory, grasping at shadows. “Light Hope… saved me?” Her voice sounded small, far away. “Or maybe my family tried to get me out somehow. They sent me away, like Catra did to Glimmer, and then Light Hope -- She sensed where I was, and brought me here...”
“I am not familiar with this Light Hope.”
“She was a computer program left behind by the First Ones to train She-Ra,” Adora replied listlessly. The air felt so thin all of a sudden.
There’s nothing left. No one left...
Adora felt like she was staring numbly at an open wound. She knew she should feel pain, but her body was in too much shock to process it yet. I’ve never known any home other than Etheria . Maybe… maybe that’s why I feel so...
A small spark flickered in her mind. “When we were on Prime’s ship, I thought I heard him call me something else,” she said, frowning. “He called me Eternian. Is that the same thing?”
“Yes,” Hordak nodded. “The people you call the First Ones were once a vast galactic empire. Eternians. They were the Horde’s greatest enemy at one time, before their empire was broken.”
Adora latched onto this new information, grateful to have something else to think about. There was no room to dwell on a family she would never know. “So all of this First-- Eternian technology is left over from that time?”
“I do not know if this planet was colonized before or after the Eternians fell from their seat of power. However, the weapon of this planet was likely designed to be used against Horde Prime. He will take great pleasure in repurposing it for his own uses.”
A spike of anger galvanized Adora to stand. “That’s not going to happen,” she said firmly. The fire of her purpose burned away thoughts of anything else. There was nothing she could do about what was past. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t She-Ra anymore. She was going to protect her home and make sure that Prime couldn’t threaten anyone again. It didn’t matter if the effort killed her. “I won’t let it happen.”
Hordak offered no response. Adora wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was facing ahead, toward the center of camp. The restlessness surged in her again, and she wondered if she could find anyone up for a spar. That was a sure way to burn off some energy and keep her mind busy. She needed to stay in peak fighting shape.
“There you are!”
A blur of purple shot past, and Adora turned to see Entrapta plop down beside Hordak on the log. She was covered in fresh grease stains and her face was flushed pink. “It took me a lot longer than expected to get all the skiffs in working order,” she said, leaning against Hordak’s side and wrapping her arm around his.
Hordak didn’t seem to mind. He shifted toward her, giving her his full attention. “It was a miracle that third skiff even made it here with all the junk I found clogging up the gears and pipes,” Entrapta went on, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Kyle helped me find the spare parts I needed. Now the only trouble is fuel! Do you think we could synthesize a replacement?”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “However, I do not think this is the most efficient use of your time. Fuel can be found, purchased, or stolen as necessary.”
“Hm, I suppose you’re right…”
Adora found herself smiling at the pair. At first glance, they seemed too different to get along as a couple. Glimmer and Mermista couldn’t understand how the bright and bubbly Entrapta could possibly be interested in Hordak, but when Adora watched Hordak listen so attentively while Entrapta rambled about the skiffs, she saw the harmony of their partnership. Hordak wasn’t annoyed or put off by Entrapta’s energy. In fact, he seemed calmer with her than any other time.
Entrapta trailed off, and for the first time she noticed Adora standing there. She looked from Adora back to Hordak, and her eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry, were you talking about something important?” She leapt to her feet with a worried frown. “I’ll just go…”
“No, no, you’re fine,” Adora assured her, one hand raised. “You don’t have to go anywhere. Please, stay.”
Taking her at her word, Entrapta sat back down. She leaned back to look up at Hordak. “So what were you two talking about, anyway?”
“Discussing past events,” Hordak replied enigmatically. He glanced at Adora, giving her room to clarify. Adora looked away, her heart suddenly heavy again.
“Ohhhh!” Entrapta tilted her head. “Did you remember anything new?”
“No.”
“That’s okay! Maybe it’ll come back later.”
“Perhaps.” Hordak shifted, bringing his arm around Entrapta. She sighed and melted against him, closing her eyes.
Adora felt her face flush. I should probably give them some privacy.
“Was there anything else you needed, Adora?”
Half-turned, Adora stopped. There was something else. For a long tense moment, the part of her heart that wanted to push it away fought bitterly with her desire for answers. She released a sigh. “Yes, there’s one more thing.”
Slowly she turned back to face them. Entrapta was still resting against Hordak, but her eyes were open. They were both watching her. Adora nearly lost her nerve, then forced herself to continue. “Hordak, why did you take me with you when you found me?”
A look of surprise came over his face.
“I’ve seen the place, it’s a flat overgrown ruin. There’s no one for miles. If you hadn’t found me…” Adora faltered, then forced herself to look straight into his piercing eyes. “Back in the Fright Zone, you said I was inconsequential and you never cared about me, but I was a baby when I came through the portal. I couldn’t have survived on my own. So why… Why did you take me?”
Hordak’s expression didn’t change as he contemplated her question. He held her gaze steadily, hardly moving at all. Adora waited anxiously, her heart hammering in her chest, determined to have her answer. Entrapta was watching him too. He has to know something, Adora reasoned. He has to. But as the silence wore on, Hordak still said nothing.
Finally Adora shook her head, feeling foolish. “Never mind,” she mumbled. “You probably don’t even remember.”
“No,” he said softly. “I do. I remember you.”
She frowned, but as she looked back up she saw something different in his eyes. They were softer than she remembered. “Then why?”
Hordak sighed wearily. Even his ears seemed to wilt at the edges. “There was no logical reason. Yet, I found I could not leave you as you were. I was reminded of…” he paused, closing his eyes in concentration. Then he shook his head. “I am sorry. I have told you all I can.”
“That’s okay.” Adora mustered a smile. “I think I understand.”
“Then you are closer to the truth of it than I.”
“Well, like Entrapta said, it’ll probably come to you eventually,” she offered.
Before Hordak could respond, there was a commotion behind Adora as Emily waddled over, Imp riding on top projecting “Food’s ready!” in all directions. Adora grinned as she recognized Kyle’s voice. Emily stopped beside Entrapta with a loud series of beeps, and Imp leapt from the bot to fly onto Hordak’s shoulder. “Food’s ready!” he piped again.
Hordak reached up a hand to stroke Imp’s cheek, and smiled. “Very well,” he replied. “We are coming.”
Entrapta took Hordak’s hand as they stood up. Adora fell into step beside them, accepting the strangeness of it all. Despite the mess of the past, maybe the future could be brighter. For the Alliance, and the ex members of the Horde too.
“I can’t exactly thank you for putting me in the Horde,” she said at last. “But… I guess things happened the way they were supposed to. Everything happens for a reason, right?”
Hordak looked at her strangely, but he nodded. “Yes, I suppose it does.”