"Don't you want to leave that ol' thing here?"
The kid shook their head adamantly. They were holding exactly two objects, not just one ol' thing and they had no intention of putting down either: the first, a shopping list their mother had given them that morning, and, the second, a small stuffed animal. It was a grey horse and it had a fuzzy black mane and a hand-stitched smile and it was tucked away safely in the child's arms.
"Well, fine," the mother pouted her lips. Really, she didn't want her child to go out on their own at all, scared as she was for them, but she'd have to let them discover their independence eventually. Telling them no now would only start an argument. "So long as you can carry the groceries back?"
This time the child nodded with a great determination in their eyes. They were big enough to go into the market on their own, or so they insisted just moments prior. Even at their young age, they knew how much their mother was struggling now that it was just the two of them and they only wanted to help.
"You just remember to keep your head down, then, and come right back when you're done, got it?"
They wouldn't be out for long. The list itself was short, scribbled as it was so hastily on the small piece of parchment: milk, eggs, tomatoes, bread, and fruit. She hadn't specified what kind of fruit on purpose, promising the child they could buy whatever they wanted as long as there was enough money left over.
The mother pulled the child towards her for one last hug before she let them out the door. "And I don't want to hear nothing about any trouble, or you'll have more to worry about than them soldiers! You follow the list, then you come on back."
Waving at her that they understood, the child skipped away, down the steps of their small cottage and along the cobblestone road towards the central marketplace. They kept close to the buildings, avoiding the horses and the carriages and the occasional tank that rolled down the street.
The masses forced the child to weave past them as they walked: vendors selling their wares, farmers selling their produce, and soldiers selling their propaganda.
"Keep it moving," A man, face masked by their helmet, growled at any passerby that lingered too long near one of the tanks. There were four soldiers walking beside the great big machine, two in the front and two in the back, and the child preferred not to be seen by any of them. They slipped past as fast as they could, focused on finding their mom's favorite bakery stand.
"-just rumors." One of the soldiers in the back said as they passed. "Why would she bother with this dump? Besides, even if she tries-"
"I'm tellin' you! A buddy from my old squad said she launched a raid not too far from here. What if there's an attack? They say she can-"
The child didn't really want to hear the rest of the conversation, only understanding vaguely that the Horde soldiers were bad, but the words raid and attack were more bad, and they should steer clear of any such talk.
Picking up the pace, the child began weaving through the crowd more recklessly, darting between legs, pushing past people, when- BAM!
A lump caught in their throat as they looked up at who they'd ran into. Even the luxury of a glaring face alluded them as their eyes met the unreadable gaze of a Horde soldier helmet.
"Hey! You think you can just run around without watching where you're going?!" The soldier shouted, waving his arms around wildly, making the child flinch. "Huh, you stupid brat?!"
The child whimpered as the soldier towered over them. It seemed the man was taking an immense enjoyment out of seeing the kid cower, so he kept it up.
"Don't you know?" The man sneered. "The Horde doesn't have a lot of patience for little runts like you. If you'd have ran into someone meaner than me, they might've just-"
"Excuse me."
The man turned around, his anger switching targets as he registered the unwelcome hand on his shoulder. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Busy bullying a child?" The person — they were blocked mostly from view, though the kid could make out a tattered black cloak and the gold glint of something shiny reflecting in the light of the daymoons — didn't seem amused. "The Horde really doesn't have anything better to do?"
"And who exactly is asking?"
Once again, the child didn't want to stay to see how the conversation played out. Clutching their stuffed horse closer to their chest, they quickly crept away, hoping the soldier would stay distracted by whoever had tried to intervene.
They must be brave, the child assumed, to say something like that. Nobody stood up to the Horde soldiers.
Not without getting hurt.
As they bought their bread, and their milk and eggs, and their tomatoes and their plums, they thought about the Horde soldiers' beady eyes, their cold if not hateful expressions, their guns that they liked to wave around as they patrolled the city, and-
And their boots.
Weird.
Weird, the child thought, as they neared a narrow alleyway, groceries in hand, when they saw the tips of two boots sticking out just barely into the street. Then, to their alarm, the boots slid suddenly out of view, like something had pulled them into the darkness.
Keep your head down. Come right back home.
The child wasn't naturally curious about most things, especially when it involved the soldiers, but something drew them to investigate the alleyway, a pull towards the darkness that they too couldn't ignore.
They were right around the corner, about to take a peek. With a quick glance around them first, they saw that no one else seemed to have noticed the disappearing boots, nor was anyone else feeling the strange need to look.
Heart thundering in their chest, they rounded the corner, their own shadow blocking the little light that was seeping into the narrow pathway. The child had a creeping suspicion that the alley shouldn't have been that dark. They shouldn't have had to squint to make out what laid in front of them. It was almost as if, instead of an absence of light, there was an abundance of shadow.
But...what was in front of them? The sight made them drop their bags and their toy as their grip became weak and their hands began to shake.
On the ground was the Horde soldier from earlier, looking even bigger than before. His shoulders touched the walls on either side of him, pressing him into the tight space. His boots were closest to the child, his limbs slack, his nose bleeding, his helmet split in two, a wheezing whine of pain trickling out through his slack lips.
Beside him was the cloaked figure from before, hood down to reveal...a young woman (younger than the child had expected, at least, young enough to be the same age their older sister had been when she'd disappeared). This stranger seemed surprised to have company, her face expressionless except for the slight white of her eyes widening and the half-tilt of her head as she examined the child.
They wanted to run away, but they were frozen in their fear.
Something in the lady's face seemed to register the kid's terror, because a softer expression took over her features. Still kneeling, keeping at the child's eye level, she slowly raised her hands with open palms facing out.
"It's okay," She said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
A lot of people said that without meaning it, but the child remembered the way the woman had stepped in to help them earlier. Maybe, they reasoned, the soldier had started a fight. Maybe she fought back.
"You really shouldn't be out on the streets by yourself," The lady continued, tone even. It seemed as though, instead of honestly chastising the child, she was really only trying to fill the silence. "Not with the soldiers everywhere."
The child tried to nod, hoping agreeing would appease the woman, or perhaps it would convince the rest of their body to move as well and take them far away from this horrible place.
"Are you...scared?" The woman asked, eyes flickering past the child momentarily.
The child nodded.
"Of the soldiers?"
The child nodded again, the only thing they felt they could do.
"Hm," The woman hummed, a determined expression making her eyebrows furrow together. "Well, you won't have to be scared of them for much longer. I'm here to help. By the end of today, you won't have to be scared ever again." She moved, albeit maybe subconsciously, to block the view of the body behind her. "You believe me, right?"
Once again, the child nodded, and then the woman nodded back.
There was a painfully long stretch of silence (interrupted only by the occasional groan from the soldier) before the woman reached to grab the kid's bags, holding them out for the kid to take.
Hands jerking out away from their body, they snatched the bags back, a piece of paper fluttering out of one of them. Before the kid could grab it, the woman was reading it out loud.
"Milk, eggs..." She tilted her head curiously as she got to the bottom. "Fruit...love Mom." The woman stared at the black ink for a moment before looking up at the child. "Your mom...is it just the two of you at home?"
The child nodded, unshed tears stinging their eyes.
"Is she waiting for you?"
A nod.
"Well," The woman smiled in what was probably supposed to be a friendly way. "You should get back to her then."
The child was more than ready to leave, one heel staggering backwards-
"But first?"
Once again, the child froze.
"Let's...let's think of it this way," The woman mumbled to herself before speaking up. "I did a favor for you earlier, right? So, do you think you could do a favor for me?"
...the child nodded.
"When you get home, I need you to tell your mom something. It's very important."
For the first time since the odd encounter, the woman rose to her feet. The child, who felt dwarfed by comparison, wished she hadn't.
"I need you to go back home and lock the doors. And then? I need you to find your mom and tell her that no matter what she thinks she hears or sees...you both need to stay inside. Don't try to get involved and-" a strange expression came over her as she finished with a small "-don't try to be a hero."
The child nodded rapidly, their legs finally seeming to work, carrying themself and their groceries away from that dark place. The toy, still on the cobblestone street, was forgotten in their haste.
They swore, as they ran, they heard the woman whisper, "It's never worth it, in the end."
More risky weaving got the child through the crowd. They now had a much more important task to complete once they reached home, a task more important than anything they ever would've done at the market. It wasn't trust exactly that made them heed the woman's warning, even though they felt she had been telling the truth.
Barging through the front door, they tried to warn their mother, but to their immense frustration and growing panic, she didn't take them seriously because no one could fight the Horde soldiers and this tall tale had to be nothing more than a poor lie to cover up why they'd broken the eggs.
She didn't want to believe what the child saw six months ago, when their sister was taken, and she didn't want to believe them now that the threat could be on their front doorstep again.
No, it wasn't until the house shook and the world outside pitched into darkness in the height of the afternoon that the mother finally lunged for the deadbolt at the top of the doorframe.
Mid-reach, the door crashed open, slamming into the wall, nearly bursting off its hinges.
It was too late.
•••••
Tea time was a right, not a privilege, so far as Scorpia was concerned. That was what she had argued to the princesses as soon as she'd been cleared to roam Mystacor freely (a privilege Catra was very anxious to earn) and it was the reason why she was sitting in Catra's room with a warm mug in her hand and a smile on her face.
The routine was tired, but at least it meant Catra got some company now and again, even if it was still in her nauseatingly lush prison cell. As much as she would've appreciated the outdoor air, Scorpia hadn't been able to get Catra beach time (not that Catra had really wanted to be near the water).
"I really need to ask them how they make these," Scorpia said, holding up a cucumber sandwich.
"It's bread and vegetables," Catra grumbled. She was lying on the couch across from where Scorpia sat on a bean bag that was comically too big, even for her. "Can't be that hard."
"Yeah, but it's just so...refreshing," Scorpia sighed wistfully, taking another bite. Then, with an unsubtle push of the platter in Catra's direction, she added, "Come on, just try one," which roughly translated to 'You need to eat too.'
Catra blindly reached for one, her eyes affixed to the ceiling. Even if Scorpia was right, she didn't have to like it, nor make it easy for her friend.
"Anyway, one of the cooks was telling me about this new recipe they're trying. I should bring them next time! They're called dumplings and-"
Catra's ears twitched, focus immediately shifting as the soft chime of bells reached her ears, right before the Queen of Brightmoon landed on her carpet.
"Oh! Your Majesty-"
"You know you can knock right?" Catra skipped the formalities. "That's why there's a door there. In case you forgot, it can actually unlock from your side."
Glimmer didn't seem too amused, a grim expression on her face. Catra turned a little on her side, ignoring the ever-present dull ache in her leg as she did.
"So Sparkles, why the visit? I thought the alliance meeting was tomorrow. Then again, it's so easy to lose track of time when you're wasting away here all-"
"We're having an emergency meeting."
Catra schooled her expression into something neutral, despite the flick of her tail. "Did something happen?"
"I'll explain in the war room." Glimmer meant the makeshift conference room that she'd been practically living out of ever since she got to Mystacor.
"You go on ahead Wildcat," Scorpia stood up, gathering the platter and half-full mugs in her arms. "Duty calls! I'll clean up."
"No," Glimmer said, "You should come too. The more eyes on this the better."
Scorpia, albeit shocked that her opinion was needed, was rightfully concerned about what would warrant it in the first place. Everyone usually looked to Catra for guidance on...the issue. It wasn't uncommon for Catra to spend almost as much time in the makeshift war room as she did her makeshift prison cell.
With a hand on their shoulders, Glimmer teleported them away. A few members were already there: Netossa, Spinnerella, and Castaspella. Bow was missing, interestingly enough.
"We'll get right into it," Glimmer was already walking to her seat at the table, ignoring Catra fighting for her life to keep from throwing up. Waving her hand at the screen on the wall, an image appeared of-
"Is that Grizzlor?" Scorpia blurted out.
"Among others," Catra mumbled from the ground, narrowed eyes scanning the many faces on the screen. There were nine photos in total, all mugshots, all force captains. "What is this?"
"Earlier this morning," Glimmer explained, "Plumeria, the Kingdom of Snows, and Salineas all found three force captains each on their doorsteps. All of them were unconscious and bound. Most of them...injured."
As Catra got up to sit in her usual seat, she shot Scorpia a look. Now it made sense why the Queen wanted both of them there.
"You think this was Weaver?" Netossa asked.
"It has to be," Castaspella said. "Who else is working against the Horde?"
"But why force captains?" Scorpia asked.
"And why give them to us?" Netossa seemed annoyed, clearly unappreciative of their supposed gifts. "Is this supposed to be a peace offering or something?"
"No."
Eyes turned to Catra. Glimmer shifted where she stood. "What makes you say that?"
"It could be a peace offering," Catra said. "Or, you know, they're mocking us. But...that's not it."
"Mind being a little less cryptic for the audience?" Netossa crossed her arms, as if she hadn't grown used to Catra's flare for the dramatic by now.
"It's a message." Honestly, these princesses missed the most obvious things. "Yeah, okay, they're saying 'Look, we're the good guys, we did this for you,' but there has to be more to it. The question is what?"
"It seems to me that it's a show of power," Spinnerella said. "You said they all appeared around the same time? I would like to know how Shadow Weaver and Adora managed to make it to all three of those kingdoms in one night."
"It might not just be three," Glimmer pointed out. "Bow and Swift Wind left to investigate Brightmoon this morning to see if there were more."
"You guys think she would leave them there with no one in the castle?" Scorpia asked, frowning. Catra glanced over at her, flicking her tail lightly over one of her pinchers. They both knew which she Scorpia was referring to, even if it left a bad taste in Catra's mouth.
"But why force captains? And why the three kingdoms?" Catra asked out loud, mind racing to connect the dots. This was a big move on Shadow Weaver and Adora's part, and it clearly wasn't something the two wanted to be ignored. "Did the force captains say anything when they woke up?"
Glimmer shook her head, shuffling through some papers before sliding a stack towards Catra. "That's the worst part. Every single one of them had no memory of what happened. They said one minute they were at their base. The next?"
"In captivity," Catra finished. Her nails dug a little into the armrest of her chair. She was only adding to the scratches that were already there. "Magic?"
"Most likely."
"Has to be."
Catra took a deep breath. She could handle this. It wasn't an ideal situation by any means, but she knew this was a puzzle she could solve. Like she told the princesses when all this started, if anyone understood those two, it was Catra.
Catra knew how they thought.
Catra knew how to get inside their heads.
What was she missing?
Of course.
The magicat's grip tightened once more, claws making an audible scratch into the wooden chair. "How long until Arrow Boy comes back?"
"I'm...not sure." Glimmer admitted. "Why?"
"When he gets here, we'll need him to contact Entrapta so she can connect him to the Horde's database."
"What-"
"We need to figure out exactly where those force captains came from. We need to know what bases they were in charge of, where they were, and, most importantly, how long ago they went missing."
"Okay," Glimmer nodded, trying to match Catra's logic and not quite getting there. "Why do we need all that?"
"Because," Catra said, "It's like I said. Adora's sending a message."
The grim faces of the captured captains stared back at Catra, scowling disapprovingly down at her.
"This is how we read it."
•••••
The trickle of the fountain in the main square was a soothing sound, but it wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out the pounding of Adora's heartbeat. Despite what her body was telling her, amped up on adrenaline as she was, covered in sweat and blood...she was calm.
It hadn't lasted long, the fighting. Most of their raids on the Horde-occupied villages didn't. The soldiers were too complacent when left to their own devices like that, even with the rise of attacks growing exponentially.
Adora ran her hands under the fountain, the pristine water darkening.
No, the fight itself had been easy. It was...disappointing. Even with the daymoon at its highest peak, what was supposed to be a challenge, Adora had found the fight too easy. Honestly, she had suspicions that her old squad members were the last recruits who received any proper training, given the subpar performance of these so-called warriors.
Perhaps Adora would be less frustrated if her job were actually done, but for all her troubles, she still hadn't gotten what she actually came for and that meant she couldn't leave just quite yet.
"We are wasting time."
"I'm aware," Adora snapped back. "Give me a minute, I'm thinking."
"Well, think faster. It won't be long before word of this gets back to the rebellion."
"I'm not afraid of the rebellion." She really wished Shadow Weaver would've let her handle this mission alone like they originally planned, but apparently there were only so many times she could distract the woman with a nearby winery before catching on. "And I'm not interested in charging around blindly. We both know she hasn't left town yet, assuming your shadow spies are actually accurate for once."
"My shadow spies are perfectly reliable," Shadow Weaver glared at her partner in crime. She walked closer to Adora, stepping over one of the unconscious bodies littered on the ground. "It is you I question."
"Oh, really?" Was nothing ever good enough for this woman? She'd just decimated an entire battalion in minutes, but clearly that wasn't enough.
"Are you certain you are not wasting time on purpose? After playing around with that thing-"
"Oh no!" Adora gasped dramatically, a hand on her chest. "A child!" More seriously, almost admonishingly, she added. "That kid was in danger and scared. I was just trying to help."
Adora couldn't keep the frustration out of her tone, as though it should be obvious by now to Weaver that helping people was all Adora ever tried to do.
"I don't care what it was, you should not have meddled in affairs you have no stakes in. Do you even understand the risk you ran?"
"Risk?" Adora scoffed. She nudged a limp leg with her boot. "Not a single soul here is a risk."
"You waste your time on playing the hero for toddlers, risk your cover, buy pastries-"
"We were in a market! I'm not allowed to eat now?"
"-when your time would be better spent sticking to the plan you drafted. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to get caught, let alone find some ridiculous reason to stay here long enough to catch sight of those princesses-"
"That's not what this is. And you couldn't find her in the chaos either. Don't blame that on me!"
"-and now you're being sentimental." Shadow Weaver eyed the toy horse tucked into Adora's belt. "What exactly are you planning to do with that wretched thing?"
"Give it back. Obviously."
Shadow Weaver shook her head disapprovingly. "We have more important-"
"I'll be fine. Why don't you go back to the tents if you're so worried about the rebellion showing up?"
"I am not concerned about them." Softly, Shadow Weaver added, "I am concerned about you."
Adora laughed. Yeah, sure. "I can handle myself."
"But can you handle a confrontation? It has been a long time since-"
"I've seen the other princesses plenty," Adora stood up onto the fountain ledge, pacing along the edge. She took out her knife, flipping it a few times in her palm as she spoke. "Sure, they never saw me, but that doesn't really matter."
"Believe me, Adora, hiding in the shadows to watch from afar is plenty different than meeting face-to-face. You are not prepared for a true fight."
Adora gripped the blade of her knife, turning to look at Shadow Weaver with a tight smile. "Listen. We can keep wasting our time having this argument or, just maybe, you can let me do what I came here to do."
"Ah, would that mean you are done thinking, then?"
Jumping back down onto the pavement, Adora walked in the direction of one of the few houses still standing. "Yeah, actually," She called over her shoulder, flipping her knife again. She was more than ready for some action again.
Except — she reached towards her belt, placing the knife back into its holster and exchanging it for the plush horse instead — there was something she had to do first.
•••••
Catra's suspicions were confirmed. Too bad she still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
"So?" Glimmer prodded for an explanation. Catra had been silently reading over the printed reports for almost ten minutes now and patience was running thin.
"They're trying to tell us something."
"You mentioned that," Netossa quipped.
"I know," Catra said, putting the papers down. "The thing is, we shouldn't focus on what they're saying."
Bow looked confused. "So Entrapta and I did all that for nothing?"
"That's not-" Catra groaned, "We need to focus on what they aren't saying! There's gaps in their story if you look in the right places."
"I'm...not following," Scorpia said, to which most people nodded their agreement.
"Sparkles, pull up your notes again."
"A please would suffice," Glimmer complained, but did what she was told.
Onto the screen, she pulled up a list of all the recent known attacks that the Horde had suffered due to Non-Alliance altercations. There were six in total from the last couple months alone. This was the same list they'd been building over many meetings now, a living document that consolidated every single lead they had on Shadow Weaver and Adora's next moves.
"This is a list of where we know they've been," Catra stood up to explain, bringing her own papers with her. "Every attack, that is. Basically, anywhere Shadow Weaver and Adora made enough noise for us to notice." She held up the paper list, the one Bow had given her. "Here's a copy of all the places the captured force captains were assigned to before they got to us. Notice anything?"
They cross-referenced the two. Bow spoke up first. "All of our known attacks are also on that list."
"Exactly. These ones-" Catra pointed to three different locations with her claws, "-aren't. What does that mean?"
"We missed a few?" Castaspella guessed.
"Yes," Catra said, "Because we weren't supposed to know about them. For whatever reason, Shadow Weaver and Adora kidnapped Force Captains Grizzlor, Mantenna and Leech covertly."
"Alright," Glimmer nodded. "Let's say they snuck into the encampments and took those three for some unknown reason without making a scene. So, they aren't always looking for a fight?"
"That's one answer," Catra pulled up another document, "Except, all three of those captains were taken one after the other. The Horde filed that they were missing all within this last week. And! There's only one or two days in between each kidnapping."
Realization began to flicker across the group's faces.
"Those bases aren't too far apart," Castaspella pointed out.
"Exactly," Catra said. "Can someone get me a map?"
Dutifully, Bow changed the screen to a map of Etheria. Catra grabbed a pen, drawing directly on the tech (not for the first time, which was why all writing instruments had been filled with washable ink by command of the Head Sorceress).
"Grizzlor was at the bridge over the Singing River...Leech, the Growling Sea, and Mantenna at Talon Mountain." She circled each location on the map. "They were taken in that exact order. If we look at the distances-" She drew lines connecting one place to another, writing down numbers above them, "-and divide that by how long there was in between each capture, then we can figure out how fast they travel."
"Up until now, the attacks were spread out by at least a week," Glimmer mentioned. "They were taking their time, making sure we couldn't track their next moves. Why get sloppy now?"
"They're getting desperate?" Netossa guessed.
"Or they're looking for something," Spinnerella added.
"Or both," Catra said. "Regardless, if we know their last attack was at Talon two days ago, then we can reasonably assume-" Catra drew a larger circle around the area, "-they're here. Somewhere in this circle."
The group stared at the map in awe. It was the biggest lead they'd had in months.
"There's only three Horde-occupied spaces in that area, not counting Talon." One base at the Tower. Two villages: Erelandia and Thaymor.
"But, wait," Scorpia broke in, "We still don't know how they got the force captains to the other kingdoms. None of those are near the mountains."
"They could've paid someone to escort them? Or, I don't know, put a spell on the force captains to make them walk to Plumeria or something." Catra mostly shrugged the question off. (What? Was she expected to know everything?) "The point is, they want us to think they're everywhere at once. They knew it'd confuse us."
"Catra's right," Bow said. "It doesn't really matter how they did it. It's a red herring."
"We should act fast. Split up." Glimmer was already thinking of what came next. "We'll send groups to all three areas. They usually attack at night, so that gives us enough time to get there even if they do it today."
Catra couldn't help the twist of her gut. This was it: the closest they'd ever gotten, maybe the closest they'd get.
If only that made her feel better, instead of worse.
"Bow and I will take the Tower. Spinnerella, Netossa, can you handle Thaymor?"
"You know we can."
"You can trust us, your Majesty."
"Perfect." Glimmer turned to Catra. "Can you, Scorpia, and my aunt handle Erelandia?"
"You're letting me out to play for once? Well, sure." As far as the rebellion tended to treat her, Catra was an advisor, never the one on the ground doing the actual searching. This really was important, then, if they were finally loosening the leash.
At least it's not Thaymor, Catra thought. She did not like the idea of doing anything with the sorceress, but she hated that town more than she hated magic, and for good reason. At least it'd be nice to have Glimmer off her back for once.
"Alright. We don't have time to get the other princesses in here. We head out. Now."
"And..." Scorpia winced, "If we do find them? What do we do?"
Glimmer sighed, eyes a little hazy. "We get Adora back."
•••••
The door swung open with the faintest touch, creaking on its hinges as it did. Adora stepped inside, boots heavy on the tile floor. Maybe she could have been quieter, but she wanted whoever was in there to hear her, to know exactly where in the house she was, to prove she was not a threat.
There were three bedrooms in the house, but it was only the second one Adora checked that hid who she was looking for.
The bedroom was the smallest of the bunch and had certainly seen better days. The tiny bed pushed into the corner was unmade. The toys and books that once were stored neatly on their shelves were now littered across the floor, creating a minefield. The closet door was broken, barely hanging off its hinges. The only lamp in the room had been cracked in two, flooding the windowless room in darkness.
Adora might have overlooked the child if she hadn't already suspected where they might hide. Carefully padding over to the bed, she cleared a spot at her feet before sitting down, legs crossed. With a friendly smile on her face, her eyes met the wide, terrified eyes of the kid from the market, who was pressed as far back against the wall as they could be in that small space.
"Hi there," Adora said softly, hoping her presence would subtract, not add, to the kid's worries. Her appearance probably wasn't doing her much good though, the grime of battle still clinging to her clothes and skin despite her best efforts to wash it away. "It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you, remember?"
The child regarded Adora with a cautious look, eyes darting wildly about the room. They kept looking at Adora as if they expected her to lunge at them any second. Adora's stomach twisted at the thought.
Quietly, ashamedly, the child whispered, "I didn't lock the door."
No, Adora thought, noting what she had seen just inside the doorway. You didn't.
The tearful look in the child's eyes only made Adora that much more regretful that she hadn't been able to do more. That she was never able to do more.
"That's okay, kid," Adora said. "You tried."
As the child sniveled from underneath the bed, all Adora could remember was her own childhood, memories bleeding out of her like an old wound that wouldn't heal. How achingly familiar was this sight? How many times had Adora sat on the floor of the barracks, beckoning for her friend to come out and just trust that she'd keep her safe? How many times had she been the one hiding under the blankets, refusing to do so much as peek an eye out into the open until she felt the familiar weight dip down at the edge of her bed?
"I won't let anything hurt you," Adora said with more conviction this time, before slowly reaching a hand out. The child froze, showing no signs of taking it.
Swapping tactics, then.
"The fighting is over, but I couldn't leave without returning this to you." Adora reached out with her other hand, but this one held the stuffed animal from earlier. She set it down in between them, placing it so it sat upright, head lolling to the side just slightly. "You know, I like horses too. I have a horse, actually. Well, kind of. He likes to do his own thing, but..."
Adora wondered where Swift Wind might be right then.
"It...it's over?" The kid asked, pulling Adora back into the present.
"Yes," Adora nodded, happy to be making progress. "Yeah, all over. Done. And all those big, scary soldiers? They won't be bothering you anymore."
The kid still seemed unsure as they glanced around the room again. Still, the longer Adora sat there, the less they looked like a cornered animal. Despite all that, Adora had to remind herself, they were still under the bed which meant they were still hiding from...something.
Adora leaned forward a bit, voice dropping down to a low whisper. "Are you still scared?"
The kid hugged themself a little tighter. They gave a single, slow nod.
"I'm..." Adora faltered slightly, "I'm sorry to hear that. But I can help. Just like I helped you before, okay? But before I can do that..." Somehow, Adora's voice got even quieter, "I need you to tell me what's scaring you."
The child hesitated, eyes so wide they nearly swallowed Adora whole as they whispered, "The monster. In the shadows."
To her credit, Adora reigned in her expression well, the neutral smile on her face never wavering. She took a deep breath. Then, she asked, "Do you want to know a secret?"
The child nodded.
Making a big show of looking around for unwanted eavesdroppers, Adora admitted, "I used to be scared of shadows too."
The surprise alone seemed to shock the child enough — at least, as much as it was needed to momentarily replace their fears with a more welcome curiosity and disbelief.
"Oh yes," Adora nodded very matter-of-factly, answering the unasked question. "Shadows. Monsters. The dark. All of it. I was so, so scared, for a very long time. But, do you know what I did?"
The child crawled forward a bit, enthralled by what Adora had to say. Absent-mindedly, they grabbed their toy, pulling it close to their chest.
"I learned that, no matter how scary the shadows get, all you ever need..." Adora concentrated, feeling the light hum of magic buzz at her fingertips, "Is a little light."
In her open palm, she held a glowing, wispy, pale blue orb. The child laughed, getting a good look at it as she danced it around her fingertips.
"When we spread light throughout the darkness-"
To the child's amusement, she tossed the orb into the air, catching it behind her back.
"-we gain the power to cast out those shadows for good."
From behind her back, she brought her closed fist into view in front of her face, light seeped through the cracks.
"And-"
Adora opened her fist, letting the orb float in front of her eyes.
"-when we bring others into the light with us-"
She snapped her fingers, the orb disappearing in a flash. The light, however, didn't fade because Adora's eyes now shone a bright blue instead.
"-nobody has to ever be scared again."
The child giggled at the magic, crawling to the very edge of the bed now in fascination. Clearly, they wanted a closer look, but something still kept them at bay, even if they were no longer focused on it. Their laughter, though, was contagious, and Adora found herself chuckling as well.
"See? Not so bad, right?" At least with the little light in the room, Adora could better assess the kid for injuries. Nothing seemed glaringly wrong and the child didn't seem to be in pain.
Adora contemplated if it was worth it, asking. But, reasonably, she had to justify this surprise visit one way or another. And...the kid might know, right? They certainly knew the town better than her. Maybe it was unlikely Adora would get the kid to guide her (given they wouldn't even leave their hiding spot) but surely they'd know something?
She'd convinced herself. Sorry to interrupt the mood, Adora brought her hands into her lap, a certain solemnity drooping over her. "Hey, so...I actually have another reason for sticking around. Maybe you can help me out? I would really appreciate it."
The kid seemed open to the request, still staring at Adora's glowing eyes with wonder.
"I'm looking for someone. Someone scary, like the shadows. I need to find her, but she's hiding from me. She ran from the battle and still needs to be brought to justice. It might be a long shot but..." Adora focused her magic again, straining a bit more to create a small, but still complex illusion in her hands: a snarling face with an eyepatch covering one eye.
The child gasped, visibly cringing away from the image. Tears sprung to their eyes. There was clearly a history.
"It's okay," Adora soothed the child again, quickly wiping the illusion away. "It's alright. She won't hurt you. I won't allow it, but I need to find her first. Please, if you have even the slightest idea where she might go to hide..."
Adora trailed off as the kid nodded, holding her breath as they detached one arm from the vice-grip hug of their toy. With a single, trembling finger, the child pointed at the closet, the door broken, barely hanging off its hinges.
Suddenly, the tarnished state of everything made sense.
As Adora stood, and saw the mass of clothes in that closet shake at the sound of her first step forward, she felt her vision turn red.
Ironically, as the monster in the shadows watched from their hiding place, red was all they saw, too.
•••••
Catra had done everything right. She'd entertained Shadow Weaver's little game, decoded Adora's message, and...this was what she got in return for her efforts? An empty village littered with debris, spare helmets, and weapons that the Horde couldn't have even been bothered to salvage in their hasty retreat?
Oh, Catra, she could hear Shadow Weaver's taunts floating on the mid-noon breeze. Did you really think any of this was about you?
"The daymoons haven't even set yet," Catra said, numb in her disbelief.
The attacks on the Horde outposts, whenever they did happen, always happened at night. At least, that had been true for all the dozens of villages and territories the rebellion had reclaimed so far as a direct result of those two's nighttime ambushes.
If the attack had been at night, Catra would have won. The Alliance would have made it in time.
They were supposed to attack at night.
"Perhaps they're still nearby," Castaspella said optimistically, and yet the frown hadn't left her face from the moment they'd arrived. "There might be clues to their whereabouts-"
"Do you not get it?" Catra snapped. Scorpia held out a pincher, like she was going to try to calm her friend down, but Catra only felt that fresh pain bubbling to the surface as she stepped away. "We missed it. This was our only chance to find Adora and we blew it!"
"It can't be our only chance, Wildcat. We'll figure something out, we always do."
"No, actually." Catra felt her claws prick at her palms. "We don't. Do you even realize how long Adora has been missing? How long she's been with Shadow Weaver?! This was the best lead we've had and we still weren't good enough! How many more months are we supposed to pretend like we know what we're doing? Until they finally screw up? Until they take down the Horde for us? Which, by the way, they've almost already done!"
"We still have to try," Scorpia, somehow, remained patient. "Isn't that why you came to Mystacor in the first place? To try to get Adora back?"
If this were before, Catra would have hissed, clawed even. She quite nearly did, but, to her credit, held herself back. Instead, she bit her tongue and buried her claws in her hair, trying to get her breathing under control. Yes, she was angry, but maybe they were right. Maybe there was more to find in Erelandia, clues she wouldn't be able to see if she was blinded by her own frustrations.
Scorpia tilted her head, making herself known in Catra's peripherals. "Did that...help?"
"Scorp, can you please walk away?" Catra mumbled out, relieved when Scorpia took the hint to give her some space. (To keep herself busy, Scorpia decided to investigate the nearby fountain, even if she wasn't really sure what she was looking for.)
Get over yourself, Catra told herself. None of this was actually about her or her problems. It was about Shadow Weaver and her messed up mind games, and it was about Adora.
"Could you two come here one moment?" Castaspella called out.
Catra forced herself to take in one more deep breath before walking over to the sorceress, a slight limp to her gait that everyone had grown used to except for her. Scorpia followed, though still keeping a respectable distance. (Maybe those tea time talks about boundaries had actually gotten through to her.)
"I have an idea, but I'd like permission from both of you first."
Catra waited to see where this was going, the cryptic question not exactly detracting from her worries.
"I would like to cast a simple tracking spell. Granted, the area is so saturated in chaos, I'm not sure how effective it would be but..." Castaspella glanced at the girls warily, "I know your histories are complicated when it comes to magic. I don't want either of you to be uncomfortable."
On one hand, Catra found it a relief that Castaspella was at least pretending like those concerns weren't mostly directed at her.
On the other hand, it was fucking annoying.
"Do whatever you want," Catra shrugged. "It might make this failure actually worth something."
"Um," Scorpia didn't fully know how to address Catra's comment, so she didn't. "Me? I'm all for it. How exactly does it work?"
'Well," Castaspella was already beginning to draw circles in the air as she explained. "It will only work if the target has been in the area within the last hour. And it just tracks footprints, so it's only so effective. But...well, with the amount of soot and, erm...liquids...on the ground, it's safe to say this could produce some results."
Catra raised an eyebrow. "So you're going to magically do what most Horde cadets can do by the end of their first survival lesson? Yeah, sure."
Ignoring Catra's snarkiness, Castaspella finished up her spell, a complicated yellow rune glowing in front of her. With her fingers spread out wide, she slowly lowered her hands to the ground, allowing the rune to make contact with the cobblestone.
Almost immediately, dim yellow footprints began to appear.
"You will have to follow them," Castaspella explained with some exertion. "I must keep the connection."
Catra felt her heartbeat quicken as the footsteps began to tell their own story:
Rapid stomps, sudden leaps, bright gold-smeared slides of the soles — the battle. Then, they slowed, stationary for a moment, before they led to the fountain. Pacing, then pacing on the fountain (Catra fought the urge to crack a smile), and then finally...down the street and into one of the houses.
"Oh cool," Scorpia grew pale. "Great. A big, creepy house. Sure. What if it's haunted? It looks haunted!"
Catra noticed, even with the speed the spell was moving, the footprints never seemed to leave the house. At least, not through the front door.
"I don't think it's ghosts we have to worry about, Big Gal."
Scorpia really was regretting this whole being-included thing.
They both walked towards the house, both on edge. Catra's mind kept going to the same unsettling question as the yellow footsteps inside grew clearer with each step forward — Why weren't there any footsteps leaving?
There was no way Catra would be so lucky. She refused to get her hopes up. After all, she didn't actually have a plan for what she'd do or say when she first saw- Nope, get that idea out of your head. Now.
The footsteps led underneath the second door down the hallway. Catra signaled to Scorpia to stay quiet, though she doubted they wouldn't have been heard already if someone really was in there.
Raising an unsteady hand to the doorknob, Catra used her other hand to give Scorpia a countdown.
Three...two...
The door swung inwards, opening before Catra had a chance to do so herself. Scorpia yelped. Catra slashed blindly outwards with her claws, meeting only air as a small shadow darted past her, something solid shoving into her bad leg.
Stumbling with a groan, Catra tried to see what had run out of the room. Instead of some terrifying shadow beast, though, it was only a child. They held a stuffed horse and wore a cracked Horde helmet as they ran giggling through the hallway, then out into the street.
"That was...oh, wow," Scorpia clutched her chest like he was going to have a heart attack, "Oh gosh."
"Pull it together," Catra grumbled, angry that the kid had gotten them so riled up. Her anger turned into shock, though, as she saw who else was still in the room, sitting quietly on the floor, facing their direction.
"Force Captain Octavia?"
The woman, tied up and scowling, spat blood in Catra and Scorpia's direction.
•••••
"That was too close," Shadow Weaver hissed as soon as Adora popped into view.
"It was fine," Adora said, not even facing the woman. Instead, she stormed over to her tent, threw her bag open, and began tossing her few belongings inside. "They didn't see me. I got out of there fast enough."
"But you don't have the force captain. In case you did the forgetting this time, you were supposed to bring her to me so I could wipe her memories before the rebellion-"
Adora whirled to face her old mentor, all patience and humor drained from her expression. "I'm the one in charge here. Your opinion doesn't matter. The rebellion doesn't matter. And anything Octavia says to them, it- none of it matters!"
Shadow Weaver narrowed her eyes. She was assessing Adora, just like always, quietly taking note of her tells, just so she could use them against her. "Fine. I at least assume you got the information you needed?"
Really, Adora got more than she wanted. "Yeah, I have the codes. We were right. Octavia was the last one in charge of the Fright Zone's prison cells."
"Yes...and, if we were right, then those codes won't change for another two weeks." Shadow Weaver slid inside the tent, intentionally blocking Adora from her bag. "Why the hurry to leave, then? I thought the rebellion wasn't an issue."
"It's not the rebellion," Adora shook her head. "It's the Horde. They're..." Adora huffed at the injustice, unable to form it all fully into words, choking as she was on her own fury. "It's the kids. The Horde has been taking more child soldiers."
"...Yes? And?"
Adora shot the unimpressed woman a glare. "They aren't just stealing babies from their cribs. Ever since we started depleting their numbers, they've been taking kids and teenagers, anyone they can get their hands on, and blackmailing them to fight for the Horde. Keeping tabs on their families, threatening to hurt them if they don't comply. Anything to replenish their army."
"We injure their soldiers. They remain crippled, so the Horde acquires more bodies to finish the fight. This should hardly be unexpected."
"No, maybe it's not to you, but I don't really care about where your messed-up mind goes. The Horde needs to be stopped before they flood Etheria with a whole new army, otherwise we'll be back at the beginning." Adora pointedly gestured to her bag. "We're leaving. Now."
"Hm, yes...we wouldn't want all that hard work to go to waste." Shadow Weaver began to back away, probably for her own good as she added, "I would hate to see you have to take all that anger out on the fresh meat."
Adora grimaced at the characterization of their hard work. Besides, she'd already gotten some of her anger out back in Erelandia. Octavia had been keeping tabs on that family — it was the only reason why she'd thought to hide in that house like a coward.
The force captain was lucky to still have her other eye, and was even luckier that Adora had been interrupted.
Turning her back to Shadow Weaver, she kept packing. "We leave as soon as we can for the Fright Zone."
"Do you have a plan?"
"The plan is the same as it's been this entire time. You get me into the Fright Zone. I'll handle it from there."
Adora couldn't see Shadow Weaver's smile with her back turned, but she sensed it all the same.
It was a numbers game. All of it. Adora had come to realize this early on. It was why she always kept track of the numbers: fourteen villages liberated from Horde-occupation, four major bases overthrown, ten force captains returned to the care of the rebellion.
Between herself and Shadow Weaver, they were more aggressive and, as a result, more successful than the rebellion had ever been. What the Alliance couldn't accomplish in decades, Adora had done in...
"How long have we been working towards this?" Adora asked. Her tone made it sound like a rhetorical question, but a part of her wanted to hear the answer out loud, like she wouldn't be able to believe it otherwise.
"Quite some time," Shadow Weaver answered anyway. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I believe it will have been one year tomorrow."
That was right. One year since Adora vowed to make up for her mistakes. One year since she met Shadow Weaver in the Whispering Woods. One year since she left everything behind.
One year since Catra broke her heart.
"We end this," Adora said. There was no sense of victory in the statement. No warmth. No satisfaction. "Tomorrow, we end all of it."
The rebellion would come. Adora knew that well enough, knew no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, Catra would always follow her wherever she went — even if it meant marching directly into the heart of the Fright Zone.
A deep ache ran through Adora's chest and she continued to pack even quicker. Maybe, if they left soon enough, the rebellion wouldn't make it in time for this next fight either, Adora reassured herself — because Shadow Weaver's nagging held some truth, after all.
Even after one year, Adora still wasn't ready to step out of the shadows.
•••••
A/N
Yeah, okay ya'll...lay it on me.
For those of you who've stuck it out from the beginning? Hi! I appreciate you coming back and I do genuinely apologize for the (very, extremely, terribly) slow updates. And to any newbies? Hi! Welcome and ignore what anyone says about my perfectly normal writing schedule.
Can I just say, this chapter was an ordeal to write for so many reasons. For starters, I've mentioned this in my notes before, but burn-out is a real killer (as is mental health). I had to take a big break away from writing in general but I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things!
Also. I just couldn't get my original plans for this chapter to work. This whole thing genuinely went through a minimum of eight total rewrites (and three title changes, and some immense workshopping with my roommate lmao) before I was actually happy with the outcome.
I do hope it was worth it? Please let me know what y'all thought of this chapter in the comments!