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The fog clung to Adora’s armor. She’d been riding since dawn, but by mid-afternoon the moor had swallowed her whole. The road beneath her boots had crumbled into nothing, just slick grass, the occasional black stone, and the endless shifting gray. Somewhere beyond the mist, there were hills, perhaps even villages. But for now, the world was small: a bubble of sight, barely a dozen paces across.
She paused, hand on the hilt of her sword. A faint glow pulsed in the distance.
At first she thought it was a torch. Relief swelled in her chest. Another traveler. Maybe a guide. But as she took a few steps forward, the light darted, quick, sudden, almost playful. It wasn’t warm orange, either. It was pale blue, flickering like moonlight on water.
Adora frowned. “Hello?”
The light bobbed once, then slipped farther into the mist.
Her knight’s training screamed at her to be cautious. Old campfire tales whispered about lights like this, lures for the unwary, leading them into bogs and pits. But she had no better options, and something in her chest tugged her toward it.
“Fine,” she muttered, setting her jaw. “But if you’re some swamp monster, I’m not going down easy.”
The light danced ahead, always just out of reach. It weaved between tufts of tall grass and skirting pools of water black as ink. Adora followed, her boots squelching in the wet earth.
She nearly tripped over the figure when it appeared.
It wasn’t a lantern. It wasn’t even… exactly human. The glow came from her, or rather, from the shimmer that clung to her like a veil, her outline limned in blue-white fire. She was lean, her hair a tumble of shadow, her grin sharp and wicked.
“Hello, knight,” the stranger purred. “Lost, are we?”
Adora straightened, unsure whether to draw her sword or gape. “What are you?”
The grin widened. “Rude. You see a pretty girl in the middle of nowhere, and your first question is what, not who?” She tilted her head twitching.
Adora blinked. “You’re… you’re a will-o’-the-wisp.”
The girl’s tail swished lazily. “Catra. But yes, I’ve been called worse.”
Adora took a cautious step back. “You’re supposed to lure people to their deaths.”
Catra laughed, a sharp, amused sound. “Supposed to. But where’s the fun in doing what’s expected?”
The fog curled around them. Catra leaned on an invisible current of air, hovering just off the ground, her glow brightening and dimming with each lazy movement.
“So… are you going to kill me?” Adora asked, voice steadier than she felt.
Catra floated closer, until Adora could see the flecks of gold in her catlike eyes. “If I was, do you think I’d tell you?”
“That’s not an answer.”
Catra’s smirk softened, just a little. “Relax, knight. I’m not leading you to your death.”
“Then where are you leading me?”
“You’ll see.”
And just like that, she turned and drifted away, the mist swallowing her ankles. The light spilling from her hair and shoulders lit the path in strange, shifting halos. Adora hesitated only a moment before following.
They climbed. The moor’s rolling ground grew steeper, grass giving way to stone. The fog thinned as they rose, until Adora could see patches of open sky above, deep indigo, spattered with stars. Catra moved with inhuman ease, sometimes leaping from rock to rock, sometimes vanishing only to reappear a few paces ahead, her laughter echoing faintly.
“You always this quiet?” she called over her shoulder.
Adora huffed. “I’m trying to decide if I should trust you.”
“You’re still following, aren’t you?”
“That’s… not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing.”
Adora didn’t bother replying.
The final climb was a scramble over slick stone, her gauntlets scraping against the rock. Catra offered no help, but she didn’t hurry ahead either, hovering just within arm’s reach. Finally, Adora pulled herself up onto a flat ledge and froze.
Below them, the fog stretched like an ocean, glowing faintly under the moon. Above, the sky was impossibly clear, the Milky Way spilling in a luminous arc from horizon to horizon. The air smelled of damp earth and wildflowers.
Adora caught her breath. “It’s… beautiful.”
Catra plopped down on the stone. “Told you.”
Adora lowered herself beside her, the night air cool against her skin now that she’d stopped moving. “You brought me here instead of—”
“Dragging you into a bog? Yeah.” Catra glanced sideways at her. “You’ve got that stubborn romantic hero face. Figured you’d appreciate something like this.”
Adora laughed softly. “That’s… oddly sweet for someone who’s supposed to be a murderous spirit.”
“I contain multitudes.” Catra leaned back on her hands, gaze fixed on the stars. The glow around her had dimmed to a faint shimmer, as if the night sky’s brilliance was enough light for her too.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. The wind whispered through the grass, and somewhere far below, water trickled over stone.
Adora found herself asking, “Do you bring a lot of people up here?”
Catra smirked without looking at her. “Jealous?”
“I’m just… curious.”
“No. Not a lot. Most people see the light and run the other way. Or they follow, and I just lead them back to the road.” She shrugged. “Not everyone gets the scenic route.”
“Why me?”
Finally, Catra looked at her, really looked. “Maybe I like the way you followed without knowing where you’d end up. Or maybe…” She leaned in, eyes glinting. “…I just like your face.”
Adora’s cheeks warmed, though she fought to keep her voice steady. “That’s… not a very good reason.”
“I think it’s perfectly ‘good’.”
The stars wheeled slowly overhead. Eventually, Catra stretched, her glow brightening again. “Come on. I’ll get you back to the road.”
Adora hesitated. “I thought you’d vanish and leave me stranded.”
Catra flashed a sharp grin. “Tempting. But maybe I want to see where you go next.”