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Chapter Text

I remember being really young and telling my mom that when I’m outside and it’s quiet, I can hear the day moon sing. And I remember her telling me the day moon doesn’t sing and that even if it did, I wouldn’t be able to hear it. But what I remember most was that when I tried to sing the song for her, I couldn’t get it right. I got so frustrated and I tried over and over again but it didn’t sound the way it was supposed to. 

Then she said, “Sweetheart, go bother your father.”

I didn’t. I went outside and practiced singing along with the day moon. Alone. 

I still hear it. I can hear it right now in the silence of the empty dorm with my window open. And when it’s this quiet the song is almost loud. 

It’s my favorite sound.

Well, one of them.

“Catra!” I lift my head at the sound of someone yelling my name down the hall. Well, not someone. I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s my other favorite sound. “Catra, where are you?”

I roll my eyes. She’s been to my dorm room a dozen times now. She has no excuse to be lost. But I can hear her footsteps pounding against the smooth waxed floors. She’s running, full speed, and I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before she crashes into something. Probably the wall at the end of the hall. 

“Catra!”

“I’m in here, dummy!” I yell, and seconds later a streak of yellow rushes past. 

With a squeal and—by the sound of it—a stumble, Adora comes to a halt. It’s only a moment and then she’s bounding through my doorway with a glaringly bright smile on her face. 

Mara, sometimes I can barely even look at her. 

“Hey!” she jumps onto the foot of my bed and I nearly drop my book she jostles me so damn much. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I arch a brow. “I heard.” 

She flushes a little bit, picking at the collar of her uniform. It’s unfair how good she looks in it, the way the yellow makes her skin glow and the fabric hugs her chest. Our uniform is the same except for the color: a long sleeved and high collared jumpsuit with a horde issued belt at the waist and loose, tapered legs. There’s not a lot of modification allowed, though Class Officers have little badges that they wear over their hearts. Adora always has her sleeves rolled up. So do I, and if you asked I’d say I did it ‘cause I didn’t wanna look like every other dork in this place. But I’d be lying if I said Adora had nothing to do with it.

A little flash of silver catches my eye and I focus in on the sword pendant that Adora wears around her neck. I guess the dress code allows for those too. A few other students wear them, and I have one that matches Adora’s exactly, but the Sword of Protection never really made sense as jewelry to me. When I see Mara’s sword I always just feel sad. 

“You know,” I start, marking my place in my book, some deep dive into Prime’s original manifesto that I was reading for my Gospel Lyricism class, “not only is running in the halls against the rules, but we’re halfway through the semester.” I set the book down and cross my arms over my stomach. “You really should know where my room is by now.”

Adora sighs and drops her hands to her side in overplayed exasperation. “All the halls in this building look the same!” 

I cock my head. “Literally every single one has a different mural painted on the wall.”

She groans and falls onto her back. “And I can never remember what mural is in what hall!”

“The doors are numbered.”

“They blend in with the door.”

“My name is on the door.”

She groans again, throwing her hands over her eyes. “Yeah, but in Common Etherian!”

I smirk. “Can you not read Common Etherian?”

Adora pulls down her hands and frowns. “The letters are too loopy.” 

I laugh and a small smile grows on her face. “It’s a dumb rule anyway,” she says, sitting back up. Then her face breaks into a grin and her voice gets quiet. “You know another dumb rule?”

I arch a brow and lean forward. “What?”

She reaches into the pocket of her jumpsuit and pulls out a small glass vial filled with bright green fluid. “No putting hair dye in someone’s shampoo…”

I reach out quickly, grabbing the bottle from Adora’s hands. “Yeah,” I breathe, giving it a little shake, “but some rules are made to be broken.”

Adora’s smile drops into a little pout. “I still don’t know why I can’t drop a bag of knox juice on him.” 

“Adora,” I sigh heavily, “you wanted to drop it on him from the dining hall balcony.”

“So?”

I hold up a finger. “One - if the bag doesn’t break open on impact you could break his neck. Two - everyone in a five foot radius would get covered in juice too. And three - everyone would be able to see you. You’d be in a disciplinary council before you could blink.”

Adora smirks. “They’d have to catch me first.” 

I shake my head. “Adora, a snail could outrun you.”

“You’ve never even seen a snail.”

“And yet…”

I stand, shoving the bottle of dye into my pocket. “Come on, let’s go ruin Kyle’s day.”

Adora’s smile returns as she stands up beside me. Sometimes I can’t fathom the way she looks at me. It’s almost like… like—

I close my eyes. I shouldn’t think like that. There are rules, and while I’m a Sanctum student I can’t get involved with anyone that way. I shouldn’t feel the way I do about Adora. I’m supposed to be focused on Prime and Mara—on the light and the mission to bring order and truth to all of Etheria. I can’t afford to be distracted by my pretty best friend. 

But maybe… maybe after we graduate. When Adora is teaching our histories in Seminary and I’m singing with the High Choir. Maybe then, when it’s allowed, we could be… something. 

But right now, I have to keep this to myself. I can’t distract Adora. I can’t be distracted. 

She probably wouldn’t want me anyway… 

But when she looks at me like that, with that smile, I want it to mean something. 

Adora and I are hiding, if you can call it that. There’s a hallway down a little ways from the entrance to the boys’ bathroom and we’re just around the corner. We’re both trying to get a good view, and for a minute that was Adora trying to push me flat against the wall, which wasn’t distracting at all. But now I’m down on my knees, head peeking out, and Adora is standing above me. 

“For Mara’s sake,” Adora whispers, “how long does it take to take a shower?”

I scoff and look up at her chin. “For people who actually wash everything? A while.”

Adora drops her gaze to glare at me. “I wash everything.” 

“I’ve seen your feet. No, you don’t.” 

I turn my attention back to the bathroom and Adora gasps. 

“Wha—I can’t believe—”

She’s drowned out by a high pitched scream. 

I slap her leg to silence her and watch as Kyle runs out of the bathroom. His hair is a vibrant green and he’s clutching it in his hands, running around in just his towel. Which, apparently, he wears up under his arms. 

And that shouldn’t be a big deal, but it’s funny. 

I cover my mouth to hold back a laugh and Adora lets out a snort. His hair is so green and he hasn’t really stopped yelling. Maybe he’s trying to say words, but it’s just coming out as gibberish. He’s looking around frantically, and he’s being passed by snickering upperclassmen going in and out of the bathroom. None of them are, like, pointing or anything, but they’re definitely looking at him. 

Kyle takes off running. He runs right past the hall Adora and I are hiding in and we both turn to watch. Adora snorts again, which tells me she’s about to bust out laughing, and I throw my hand over her mouth. 

She meets my gaze and there are tears in her eyes. She’s holding back so much, and that devious and happy look in her eyes makes my smile even bigger. 

“Lonnie!” Kyle cries. 

Adora and I freeze, our eyes going wide. 

Shit . 

“Kyle! What the hell?” Lonnie replies, and we turn very slowly. I drop my hand from Adora’s mouth to grab her wrist. I pull her slowly across the hall and we just listen. 

“I don’t know! I was just taking a shower and when I got out my hair was green!”

Lonnie doesn’t respond right away, and Adora and I peek around the corner. Lonnie is standing tall in her blood red jumpsuit, which looks just like mine, with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Then she reaches out and brushes the wet hair from Kyle’s face. 

And for some Maraforsaken reason, this makes Adora gasp. 

Everyone and the clergy know how Lonnie feels about Kyle. But not Adora, apparently. Nope. She’s caught off guard. 

“Adora?” Lonnie’s eyes narrow in on us and her voice drops. “Catra?” 

I close my eyes and bite back a groan. 

“Oops,” Adora whispers and I shake my head. 

“Yeah, oops.”

“Are you serious?” Lonnie yells. “You dyed his hair green ?”

I open my mouth to give an explanation, any explanation, but I don’t have one. And now Lonnie is charging us. 

Adora grabs me by the wrist and pulls me down the hall. I start running. I can hear Lonnie behind us and as I gain speed I realize Adora’s not gonna be able to keep up. Lonnie’s almost as fast as I am. 

I pull on Adora’s arm hard . “Come on!” We reach the main lobby and weave through the chairs and sofas. We make it through the glass doors and I glance back at Lonnie one more time. 

We still have a chance. 

I know Lonnie, and I know that I’m the one she’s really after. She thinks Adora’s too dumb to come up with something like this. She’s wrong, obviously, Adora is kind of an evil genius. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that she’s coming for me. 

I pull Adora around the corner, ducking quickly onto the side of the building. This isn’t a good hiding spot by any means, but I don’t need it to be. 

“Meet me on the roof of the chapel.”

Adora’s brow furrows. “Wait, what?” She shakes her head and tightens her hold on my hand. “No, we’re not splitting up!”

I can hear the doors at the front of the building crash open. 

“Yeah, we are.” I smile a little. “Trust me, okay? I’ll see you there.”

Adora grimaces, but gives me a nod. “Be careful.”

My smile becomes a smirk. “Always am.”

Then I bolt. I run back to the front of the building and down the cobblestone walkway towards the main part of campus. I hear Lonnie yell my name, but I don’t turn to make sure she’s following me. I know she is. 

I laugh. I’ll lose her, I know I will. 

Adora’s sitting on the stone bench in the center of the chapel’s rooftop garden, and she’s fidgeting. I watch her for a second through the rose bushes just beside her. She’s been playing with her ponytail, I can tell that it’s loose. She’s also been biting her lip. It’s red and full. 

For just a second I’m distracted, thinking about how those lips would feel against mine. But only for a second.

Adora’s worried; for no good reason, obviously, but she is. So I step out from behind the bushes and up to the side of the bench. 

“Told ya.”

Adora looks up and the relief and joy that I see in her face makes my heart beat harder. “Catra!” She jumps to her feet and throws her arms around me. I never really liked hugs before Adora started hugging me. Honestly, I didn’t like being touched. But when Adora touches me, her hands are careful, like she knows just how powerful they are, but firm like she’s grounding herself in me.

It makes me insane. 

“You’re crushing me,” I manage to say despite my face being pressed into Adora’s shoulder. 

“I don’t care.” She squeezes me tighter. “I was worried about you.”

I roll my eyes. “It was just Lonnie, Adora. She’s been giving me shit since our first year.”

Adora groans. “Catra…”

I manage to squeeze my hands into the space between us and push her away by the abs. Her firm, warm abs… “Sure, Lonnie can yell curse words at Kyle, but I can’t use them at all.”

Adora, finally, loosens her hold. “Well I can’t make Lonnie stop, she doesn’t listen to me. And now that she’s gonna be made a Class Officer she could actually get you in trouble.”

I scoff. “I don’t listen to you either, dummy.” 

Adora sighs and her arms fall away. Sort of. She drags her hands down my arms and wraps her fingers around my wrists like tender handcuffs. “You don’t listen to anyone.”

I grin. “You got that right.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. But she doesn’t let me go. “You don’t think Lonnie can prove it was us who messed with Kyle’s shampoo, do you?”

“Please,” I scoff, “Lonnie wouldn’t turn us in even if she could prove it. Then she’d have to get a new roommate, and she hates our entire class.”

Adora’s eyes go wide. “You think we’d be expelled?”

“Um…” I grimace. “No?” 

“Catra!”

I shrug. “I don’t! But I do think Shadow Weaver would take any excuse to expel me.”

Adora frowns, but in that way that means she’s disappointed in me. “Catra, that’s not her name.”

I groan. “It should be. She’s the worst!”

“She’s our High Priestess. We need to be respectful,” she insists.

I laugh out loud. “Seriously? That’s the rule you care about? Kyle’s hair is green, Adora!”

She makes a face and glances at the ground. I worry for a second that I crossed a line. Adora has a really intense relationship with her faith. Her mother defected when she was a kid and her father had already ascended to High Priesthood. She was basically raised by the clergy and she idolizes them. She thinks that just because Light Spinner is a High Priestess everything she does is guided by the teachings of Prime and the spirit of Mara. 

I don’t believe that.

But Adora does. And she believes it so much. She defines herself by it. She’s a humble servant of Prime first, and Adora second.

It scares me sometimes, how certain Adora is. Not because it’s bad, but because I’m… less certain. At this point, I think I only believe because Adora does. It’s hard not to when she’s so fucking convinced. My faith is rooted in hers and if Adora wasn’t here… 

I don’t know if I would be. 

“I… you’re right, Catra.” Adora meets my gaze and it’s like her eyes are burning. “We shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”

I huff and roll my wrists to break Adora’s hold. She lets me go and frowns for just a second till I interlock our fingers. “You didn’t ‘drag me into’ anything. Believe it or not, Adora, I do a lot of stuff because I want to.”

Adora bites her lip. “I know. I just–when Lonnie followed you I realized that you could get in trouble for something I did. And I don’t want that, Catra. I don’t want to hurt you.”

My breath catches in my throat. When Adora says stuff like that—when she says something that means she cares—I almost lose it. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so bad it aches. 

I want other things too. Depraved and wicked things that I’m not allowed to want. And I will never admit that I do. Not even to save my own life. 

“You’re not capable of hurting me, Adora.” I shake my head and squeeze her hands. I choose my next words carefully. “You’re a goody two shoes people pleaser. And you like me too much.”

I have to spin it like that. I can’t let Adora know what I know—that she’s kind and strong and beautiful. I can’t let her know that she’s good. It would go straight to her head and she’d be even more insufferable than she already is. 

And she’d figure out just how much I like her insufferable ass. Which is too much.

I’m not supposed to write songs that aren’t divine. But I’ve written songs about Adora. Songs no one but the day moon will ever hear. 

She rolls her eyes and sits on the bench again, pulling me down to sit beside her. “I am not a people pleaser! Or a goody two shoes.” She pauses and starts to fiddle with my fingers. “I do like you though…”

I swallow and it’s tight. “I like you too.”

She lifts her gaze and smiles. But that smile quickly becomes a smirk. “You like me? That’s so embarrassing for you.”

I groan and shove her in the arm. That’s what I get for being vulnerable, or whatever. “I take it back. I do not like you.”

Adora wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. She musses my hair and laughs. “Yeah you do. You like me.”

I almost growl, but there’s no bite to it. “You’re just the worst…”

Adora slowly relaxes against me and I’m able to lift my head again. But she doesn’t take her arm off my shoulder. When I look at her she’s smiling and staring off over the edge of the roof. You can see all of campus from up here. You can see most of Festal Gorge actually. The buildings are all so white they glow in the setting sun, and the Spire stands tall in the center of the valley. 

Everytime I look at it I remember meeting Adora. I was twelve, barely old enough to attend the Annual Communion with Prime, and we were gathering around the Spire waiting for the doors to open. I was wearing my brand new white robes and my mother had just been scolding me for my “disastrous” hair. Then I saw some girl, running around with a stupid grin on her face, handing out handkerchiefs. She had a white bow tied around her ponytail and when she saw me she gasped. 

“You’re ears! They’re so cute!”

I almost scratched her eye out. 

But my mom gave me a stern look as she took her handkerchief and I crossed my arms. Adora didn’t get the message. She finished handing out hankies and then ran back to stand next to me. She started rambling about how excited she was for the Communion, and that she was barely too young the year before. She told me about her mom defecting and her father being a High Priest, which was why he wasn’t with her now but that she also got to hand out handkerchiefs because of it. She wouldn’t shut up, and when the ceremony started and the crowd started moving towards the door she took my hand. 

“Is this okay?” she whispered and my heart did this funny little stutter. 

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

She held my hand the entire ceremony. 

I hate the Annual Communion. It’s boring and long and the only fun parts are the music. But when I stand with Adora and she holds my hand, it’s almost bearable. 

“Catra,” Adora sighs, “can you believe we graduate next year?”

I scoff. “Finally. I feel like we’ve been here forever.”

Adora doesn’t look at me. She just smiles and stares out at the valley. “We’re going to do so much for the Horde. You’re going to be singing in the High Choir and writing hymnals, and I’ll be charged with a Seminary—oh! Or on a Sojourn… teaching our histories to all of Etheria and sharing Prime’s Light…”

She makes it sound almost whimsical. But it’s not. 

I bite my lip. “If you’re on a Sojourn we’ll never get to see each other.”

She finally looks up at me and she frowns. I almost feel bad for taking her smile away. “I don’t have to submit for a Sojourn. It was just an idea.” She pulls her arm from my shoulders but lays her hand next to mine and grazes the back of it with her fingertips. “Who knows, maybe I’d be considered for Priesthood.”

I laugh, trying to shake my nerves. I don’t like the idea of Adora going away or being a priestess. If Adora becomes a priestess then—then we can’t—

I shake the thought. That’s stupid. Adora wouldn’t… she wouldn’t want that anyway. 

Besides that, there isn’t a soul on this campus who thinks I could practice the gospel without Adora keeping me in line. If she were a priestess I’d lose… everything. Plain and simple. But I don’t want it for her, either. I hate picturing her in one of those veils. I don’t want her giving them her entire future. Even if I would never be a part of it. “You? Adora, don’t be an idiot.”

“What?” she cries. “I could be a priestess!”

I shake my head. “No, you couldn’t.” I lean into her shoulder. “You’re too… wild.”

She scoffs and leans her head on my shoulder. “Wild?”

“Yeah, or something. You’re reckless. And brave. The priests wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

Adora’s hand tangles with mine again and my heart thrums happily. “What about you? Do you wanna be a priestess?”

“Fuck no!” I almost shout.

Adora groans. “Catra…”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. No, I don’t wanna be a priestess. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Really?”

I almost laugh. “No. Magicat or not, I’m not good enough. I’m ‘trouble.’”

That’s what my dad has always said. He’s right. I’m too passionate to be pious, too loud to be reverent. I am not the righteous servant I ‘was raised to be.’ 

And that’s fine. I don’t want to be a priestess. I don’t want to spend all of my life writing sermons and reading scripture. And I obviously wasn’t meant to—I’m a magicat . 

But… I kinda wish it was something someone thought I could do. 

There’s a couple seconds of total silence but when Adora speaks again her voice is certain. “You’re good enough, Catra. And you would make an amazing priestess. Your music could redeem the entire Waste.”

I bite back the thickness in my throat. “Shut up. You’re ruining the moonset.”

She chuckles quietly, but that’s the last thing she says until the day moon ducks below the walls of the gorge and the sky starts to go dark. 

When I told Adora that I could hear the day moon sing, we were older, and I knew it was stupid. But Adora didn’t say that. She sat outside on the rocks with me for an hour, and she didn’t say a word. She just listened. And when she couldn’t hear it she got frustrated and asked me what it sounded like. 

“Thanks,” she whispers, “for being my friend.”

I sigh softly and slow as I can wrap my arm around her waist. “I always will be.”

I should be listening to Shad—Light Spinner’s sermon. And, honestly, I’m trying. But from my place up on the stand I can see Adora sitting in the center of the third row. She actually is listening, her head nodding every few minutes and that thoughtful but calm look on her face. She’s wearing her sabbath jumpsuit, which is boxy and black with white and gray accents. The rest of the congregation is wearing variations of the same thing, but she glows.

“We cannot ,” Shadow Weav—Light Spinner slams her hand on the pulpit, “allow distractions to keep us from performing Prime’s work. We live in trying times. Serenia’s agenda rules the outside world, only becoming more powerful with every passing year since they were banished to the Crimson Waste. Mara drove them out, buying us time, but there was a cost. 

“Mara’s sacrifice lives on in the hearts in each and every one of us. She was not afraid to put the greater good ahead of her own needs and desires. She chose a noble end, and it is because of that choice that the First Ones were able to bless Etheria with magic. It is because of that choice that we will someday be glorified and once again live on Eternia.”

My eyes feel heavy, but I fight it. I’ve heard this all before. A lot. Mara was a hero, champion of the First Ones, who fought against the wicked Serenia in the Great War. Mara won and Serenia was banished to the Crimson Waste for the rest of her days. Mara died of her wounds, somewhere in the Whispering Woods on her way to share her victory with the rest of the First Ones, and yeah, that was sad, but it ‘ushered in an era of peace the likes of which Etheria had never seen, and hasn’t seen since.’ The First Ones gave us magic and tech and civilized the planet, teaching us their ways. Everything should’ve been great.

But it wasn’t, because Serenia wasn’t really gone. 

Using the magic that Etheria now had, Serenia’s spirit sent plagues and turned the hearts of Etherians against the First Ones. And it wasn’t long before they were driven out, leaving only a handful of their descendants and a few pieces of tech behind. 

Until Prime’s vision. 

When Prime was young he was revealed to be a First Ones descendant during a lesson in school. I can’t remember exactly what it was, I think he read some inscription on a mural, but it didn’t go over well. He was ostracized. He basically fled his hometown and wandered through the Whispering Woods for weeks. 

The way Shadow Weav–Light Spinner tells it the Woods ‘guided’ him to an old First Ones’ ruin. My mom always said it was the Spirit of Mara. When I asked Adora she said those are the same thing. But that’s not the point. The point is, he stopped at a ruin, one modeled after the mythical She-Ra, and when he went inside the Spirit of Mara spoke to him.

She told him that She-Ra was real, that the hero from storybooks was really a goddess called upon by the First Ones to protect Etheria. But most importantly, Mara herself was She-Ra. And that, when she died, the goddess would enter a slumber of a thousand years before once again taking host in a First Ones’ descendant. 

She charged Prime with preparing the way for this goddess.

“‘There will be another She-Ra.’” I look up to see Light Spinner gripping both sides of the podium. She always gets this way when she quotes the vision or scripture. “‘And we must be ready for her.’

“She-Ra will lead Etheria into the final age of Enlightenment. She will return the hearts of all peoples back to the First Ones, allowing our benefactors to return and guide us home. Glory be to Horde Prime. Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia.”

“Glory be to Horde Prime,” I grumble, my mouth moving on instinct. “Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia.”

Finally, Shadow Weaver steps back and gives a quick nod to the chorister. He beams and turns back to the pew where I’m sitting with the choir and gestures for us to stand. We do it almost in unison, except for Octavia who takes her dear sweet time, but that’s normal.

I’m not impressed with my congregational choir. But maybe I’ve been in too many advanced music courses. A lot of the other students just do this for fun, and listening to them you can tell, but me? I’ll admit, I do it for my ego. 

I love the way people look at me when I sing—like I’m worth marveling at or something. I love the way Adora looks at me even more. 

She almost looks at me the way I’m kinda worried I always look at her. 

The conductor taps his stand with his baton, which is another thing that annoys me. This guy’s a first year music student, why does he need a baton? I straighten and let my arms hang to my sides. 

The first few notes are hummed by the tenors and altos. I smile. It’s a pretty song, even if the themes and subject are kind of boring. At least to me. I’ve heard the story of Prime’s vision so many times I recite the manifesto verses to put myself to sleep at night. 

I take a quick breath through my nose and then me and a bunch of other wannabes open our mouths to sing.

“When Prime was young, still just a boy, he wondered where to look for joy. He wanted purpose, needed a guide, he went to the woods wherefore from his fears to hide.”

The song goes on for a minute or so, recounting his travels and praising his open heart and yada yada yada. But I don’t care about all that. 

The choir gets quiet and I watch the conductor count out the next few beats. Then he points to me with a flick and I start to sing.

Just me. 

This is the first solo I’ve had in Sermon. Usually they let the… less talented singers have a shot. And since I’m a fourth year music student with an emphasis in the choral arts, everyone knows I can sing. They don’t feel like giving me chances to prove it. 

But today I get to. 

“ I am Mara,” I sing, and my voice rings out in the chapel. “ She-Ra of Etheria. I have much to tell you, son. Of magic, truth, and battles I’ve won.”

I smile a little and finally glance over at Adora again. I want to see how she’s looking at me. I want to feel like I matter. 

I’m not disappointed. 

I close my eyes, basking in it for a moment. I don’t really care about the words I’m singing, but I love the way they sound. I love the way the music makes me feel tingly and like my heart is swelling. Maybe that’s the spirit everyone is always going on about. Maybe the magic of Etheria knows. 

“ She-Ra will be born again, she will not die with me. The First Ones are not lost to you, once more you will be raised…” there’s a low whispering that starts up and my brow furrows. It gets louder. “...Up above the lost and wretched ones. She will come to take you home.”

Now the whispering is so loud I can’t focus, the girls next to and behind me are whispering too. I can feel my ears darting around on my head, and my tail flicks at the tip. 

I open my eyes. The kid in front of me is pointing at someone. 

He’s pointing at Adora. 

She’s still looking at me, looking at me that way that I’d kill for, but she’s… she’s glowing. 

Not, like, metaphorically glowing. Literally glowing. She’s surrounded by this white-gold light that looks like it’s coming out of her skin. 

The song dies in my throat, and someone yells.

“Holy, Mara!”

Adora blinks, turning her head, looking for the idiot that just cursed in front of an entire congregation, and the glowing starts to dim. She looks back at me and blinks. Maybe it’s the look on my face, or the way the entire room has gone completely silent, but the light dies - like it retreats back into her body - and Adora shrinks. 

Not literally shrinks, it’d be impressive if she could do that and glow, but her shoulders hunch and she slides down her chair. 

She meets my gaze and I realize she has no idea what just happened.

“Adora,” I say, and my voice carries across the room, “are you—”

I don’t get another word in. Kyle’s jumping up and throwing his arms in the air. He’s on the pew just behind Adora and he’s beaming like he doesn’t have bright green hair that’s staining the collar of his jumpsuit. “Praise Prime! It’s the light of Mara! Adora is She-Ra!”

Whispering takes over again, and even though I’m picking up on bits and pieces of what people are saying, shit about miracles and “of course it’s Adora!” I can’t break away from Adora’s stare. 

She looks terrified. 

I can relate. 

“Silence!” 

My eyes break away and I watch Light Spinner rise from her seat. She steps up to the pulpit and grips it from both sides. “Adora Grayskull…”

Adora bites her lip and bobs her head. “Yes?”

Light Spinner extends her hand. “Come here, child.”

Slowly Adora stands. She makes her way to the end of the pew, apologizing quietly to the people she passes. She pauses in the aisle, then straightens her shoulders and tips her head up. She’s trying to look confident, brave. 

I wanna tell her she doesn’t have to be. 

She walks up to the stand, up the stairs and when she passes the choir, she shoots me a glance. I want to smile, try and tell her it’s gonna be okay, but I can’t make my face move. 

I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know what Adora glowing means —if it’s a bad thing, a good thing, or just a thing that First Ones’ can do. Adora has a lot of First One in her. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s like some genetic thing that skips several generations…

Like a hundred. 

Adora steps up to Light Spinner’s side and stands straight and tall. But I can see the tension in her shoulders and jaw. 

My fingers clench. I wish I could touch her, just to help her calm down a little. 

“Adora,” Light Spinner says, and the way she says Adora’s name is… weird. It’s almost reverent. “The power of Mara is in you, little sister—like it was in Prime.”

Adora’s chin falls a little. 

“But you… you are so much more than that.

“Once it was prophesied that She-Ra would return to lead the Horde in its quest to enlighten Etheria. She would finally defeat the wicked spirit of Serenia and usher in an age of peace and order. She would be our salvation. She would lead us home.”

My hands start to shake. 

No. No, no, no, no…

“Adora, you are the She-Ra of prophecy. You… are the one we have been waiting for.”

A quiet gasp sounds out and Shadow Weaver does something I never thought I’d see. She gets down on her knees, clasps her hands, and bows.

“Glory be to Horde Prime,” she starts and my blood runs cold. “Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia. And, above all,” she lifts her head, “glory be to She-Ra.”

Without prompting, like they’d been practicing it for years, everyone in the room cries out, louder than I’ve ever heard, “Glory be to She-Ra.”

“Glory be… to She-Ra,” I breathe, just a second after.

Chapter Text

It’s been days. I haven’t heard from Adora in days . 

The sky is dark and cloudy and I’m sitting on my bed in my painfully quiet dorm room trying to read about the classic structure of a thanksgiving hymn, but all I can think about is that dumb blonde idiot who hasn’t so much as sent me a trackerpad message in four days . 

“‘Unlike a sacramental hymn,’” I mutter, gritting my teeth, “‘a thanksgiving hymn does not typically slip into a minor key for any length of time…’”

I can’t focus. I’m just saying words and they don’t mean a damn thing. 

They moved her from the history and language dorms. She’s on the complete opposite side of campus now. She’s not even technically in the dorms anymore, not the underclassmen ones anyway. She’s in the clergy housing. Kyle said she has her own room. 

I haven’t even seen her on campus. Or between classes. Or in any of the dining halls. Kyle said she’s having dinner with the Priests and even Lord Hordak most nights, and that all of her classes are private now. 

The horrible and devastating fact that Kyle is the one telling me this shit isn’t lost on me. And it doesn’t make me want to die exactly, but it doesn’t make me feel good .

I close my eyes, realizing that I just read the same sentence about six times. 

I slam the book closed and shove it off my lap. “Fine,” I mutter to myself since no one is actually here to spend any fucking time with me, “who needs Adora anyway?”

Me. I need Adora. 

I feel like I’ve lost a limb, or like maybe I can’t feel the ground beneath my feet. I don’t know where to look if I’m not looking at her every few seconds. I don’t know what to say if I’m not talking to her. 

I cross my arms and lean back against the wall. This sucks. My life sucks. Everything sucks. 

It doesn’t help that everyone else is so excited about this whole She-Ra thing. People literally think Adora is the living vessel of an ancient goddess who is supposed to redeem all of Etheria. And yeah, I know I should believe it too. She-Ra is the cornerstone of the Horde gospel. She’s the belief that really makes us different.  But when I look at Adora I just see… Adora. 

I hear the quiet beep of my trackerpad and lift my head. 

The indicator light is blinking. I reach the end of my bed and pick it up.

One new message. 

I swipe the screen and the chat box that opens almost surprises me. 

Adora: Meet me on the roof.

I sigh, dropping the pad. I want to say something snarky, something mean. Oh, so you have time for me now? or Oh, yippee for me! The great goddess wants to bless me with her presence! But it’s Adora… so I’m not going to. 

Instead I push myself off the bed, grab my jacket, and tie up my feet. 

I’m still gonna give Adora hell, I tell myself. I’d just rather do it in person.

I’m hiding behind the rose bush again, and Adora’s sitting on the bench. Her leg is bouncing, kinda like she’s nervous, and her ponytail is a mess, like she’s been toying with it. She’s wearing a new jumpsuit—white, sleeveless with a high collar but seamless front that hugs her body—and her belt is black with a shiny new silver buckle. I can’t decide if she looks strung out or ridiculous, but she has her arms crossed and she’s staring out at the spot on the horizon where the day moon just set with this really intense look on her face.

So I’m leaning towards strung out. 

“Ease up, Adora.” I step out of my hiding spot. “You look like you're trying to lay an egg.” 

She jumps to her feet. “Catra!” Her smile is so big and just… relieved. She steps forward and immediately throws her arms around me. I startle a little, taking a shaky step back. She doesn’t seem to notice, she just pulls me closer.

She buries her head in my shoulder and links her arms together. “I’ve missed you so much.”

I don’t hug her back. I just stand there with my arms by my sides and let her crush me. It takes a second of Adora ducking her head into the crook of my neck to notice. 

She pulls back sort of, lifting her head and loosening her grip. “Catra?”

I almost sigh. “Hey, Adora.”

She pulls back completely, doing that thing where she drags her hands down my arms and circles my wrists with her fingers. “Catra, what’s wrong?”

I roll my eyes and scoff. “What’s wrong?” I can feel tears building up in the corners of my eyes and my throat. “Seriously?”

She frowns. “I—I know it’s been a few days—”

I laugh, but it sounds mean, almost evil.“It’s been four days, Adora. Four.” I cross my arms. “I know you probably can’t count that high—”

“Hey!” Adora narrows her eyes. “That—you can’t just—” she swallows and shakes her head. “Why are you acting this way?”

“Me?” I laugh again and this time it really is mean. Dark. “You haven’t so much as sent me a trackerpad message in four days! Why are you acting like I don’t exist?”

Adora straight up scowls. “I’m not acting like you don’t exist, Catra. I’ve been—”

I don’t let her finish. “What, now that you’re ‘She-Ra’ you don’t have time for me? I’m not good enough for you anymore?” My throat is so tight I can barely breathe and the next words burn my tongue as I spit them at her. “Was I ever? Or were you just waiting for the day you could—could—”

— throw me away and become a goddess? 

I can't even say it. The tears break free of my eyes and run down my cheeks. And maybe it’s seeing me cry that does it but Adora doesn’t look so angry anymore. Her face kind of crumples and she takes two very measured steps towards me. 

“Of course not, Catra,” she whispers, and her hand comes up to brush the tears from my cheek. “Why would you think that?”

My hands are shaking and I cross my arms over my stomach. “You were just gone,” I whisper, like it’s a secret. Because it is. I don’t want anyone else to know how much this hurts. “You didn’t—you didn’t say anything, and Kyle knew more about what was going on with you than I did and—and—” 

I’m trying hard to fight it, the crying and shaking, but it’s just making it worse. 

Adora wraps her arms around me again, more gently this time. “I’m sorry, Catra. I’m so sorry.” She brushes her hand through my hair and I grab at her stupid new fancy white jumpsuit and bury my face in her shoulder. 

“Shhh,” she whispers, rubbing circles on my back. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

My heart leaps at her words. She’s called me ‘baby’ before, just a couple times, but it always hits me hard. I shiver and her grip gets tighter. “I’m sorry…”

She almost sounds like she means it.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. I still feel shaky, but there’s one question that’s been burning in my mind, just behind my eyes. So I pull back and let go of her clothes. I pretend I don’t see the tear stains. 

“Are you even allowed to see me?”

I don’t know why she wouldn’t be able to, but it feels like something that would happen. Maybe I’m not ‘pure’ enough to be around the savior of Etheria, or some bullshit. I’m sure Shad—Light Spinner thinks that. I wonder how much credit that bitch is getting for being lucky enough to have Adora in her congregation. Probably enough to decide who Adora can and can’t see. 

Adora frowns and I think I have my answer. 

“I am,” she breathes, finally, but her gaze falls to my hands. “But I shouldn’t be.”

I furrow my brow and try to step back, but she doesn’t let go and just steps with me. “What, you can’t have friends?”

Her frown gets deeper and she drags her hands down my arms. “No, I can. But… I’m not supposed to have real attachments. Lord Hordak says they’re a distraction, that they’ll keep me from learning how to channel She-Ra.” 

I grimace and scoff. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not attached to me, huh?”

I go to shake her hands off me, to break those delicate cuffs that her fingers make, but she tightens her grip and when I meet her eyes, they’re filled with tears. 

“No, don’t—don’t leave, Catra. Please?”

I stop. She looks so… 

Sad. 

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she whispers, gritting her teeth. “I only had a year left. One stupid year. And I had a plan.” She tips her head back and lets out a pathetic little laugh. “It was a good plan. Or, I thought it was.”

“Adora…”

“I was gonna bring you up here,” she starts, blinking furiously. “Right after we walked at graduation. And I was gonna sing that hymn you like so much—the one about the stars?” 

I nod slowly, and Adora laughs again. “I know I’m not a good singer, but I’ve been practicing and I thought that you’d… you know, like it.”

She’s looking down again and wiping at her face. “Adora, what are you talking about?”

She takes a deep breath and when she drops her hand she wraps it around mine again. “Catra… She-Ra can’t have attachments. Not real ones. She can’t have close friends, or a family, or… a partner.” She meets my eyes again and it’s like looking at the sky before a storm. “I’m not supposed to even want them.” She rubs the back of my thumb and it sends a shiver up my spine. “I’m not supposed to hold your hand.” She squeezes my wrist. “Or hug you. And I can’t,” she sniffs and shakes her head, “kiss you. Not ever. Not even after we graduate.”

My heart stops and I swallow. I wanna scream. That was an option? Adora wanted to kiss me? Does she still want to? Should I kiss her? Or would that—should I let her kiss me? Is she going to?

The thought is stopped in its tracks. She’s not supposed to, and Adora never does anything she’s not supposed to. 

Except put green dye in Kyle’s shampoo. 

“Is that a rule you care about?” I whisper. She looks at me and… Mara, she’s never looked at me like this. I didn’t even know Adora could, really. Her lips and the tip of her nose are flushed and her eyes are dark. The tears left them shining.

For the first time in my life I get it—that thing about having a prayer in your heart. I have one, and I feel like if it’s unanswered I’ll fall apart. 

“I should,” she whispers, and in the split second before my heart breaks she looks down at my lips. “But I don’t.”

She pulls me close and my eyes flutter shut. 

It’s so soft, that first brush of her lips against mine, like she’s scared I’ll pull away. 

I won’t. I don’t. I may never pull away again. 

I press into her, locking our lips together, and she shivers. I’m still gentle, still careful, afraid that any second I could push too far and lose her for good. But she releases her hold on my hands, moving to grip me by my shoulders, and she presses harder. 

My breath catches and in the second that my lips are parted, Adora slips inside. 

I feel like I’m on fire. Or maybe the fire is surrounding me, I don’t know. But it’s hot and I don’t care where it’s coming from. I want to burn.

I bury my hands in her hair, ripping out her hair tie, and my claws brush her scalp. She pulls me right up against her and presses her hand hard into the spot just above the base of my tail. 

I almost whine. 

“Catra,” she breathes, kissing along my jaw up to the base of my ear. It flicks as her breath tickles the edge. “I don’t wanna wait anymore.” She wraps her hand around the back of my neck and presses a forceful kiss to my forehead. “Please. I wanna touch you…”

I nod furiously. “Yes, fuck, Adora. Touch me.”

She doesn’t groan when I curse this time. She pulls back and a soft smile lights up her face. She drags her hands down my tail, and it tickles through the fabric of my jumpsuit. Then she curves and she’s cupping my ass.

I arch into her touch. She stops and grips my upper thighs. She squeezes and her smile shifts. It’s smug now, like she won something. 

She spreads my legs, and fuck, I let her. “Jump.”

My breath catches and I secure my grip on her shoulders. I pause for a second, trying to decide if I trust her to catch me. 

But it’s Adora. Of course I do. 

I jump, just like she asked and she pulls my legs up around her waist. Before I can say anything snarky or even nice her lips are on mine again. They’re firm and forceful, and she’s pushing and pulling, tugging at my jumpsuit. 

For a second my head is clear enough to get it. Adora is kissing me. Adora wants me. Adora has wanted me for a long time. 

I groan and bite down on her bottom lip. 

Adora gasps and I release her lip immediately. I open my mouth to apologize but she’s pulling my head back by my hair and her lips are on my throat. I shiver and make the most pathetic whimpering noise. So, of course, she kisses right at the base of my jaw again, right in that sensitive place that I used to brush my fingers over and imagine her kissing. Her teeth scrape the skin and she places another kiss just below it. 

She trails down until she’s brushing the collar of my jumpsuit with her nose. Her breath is so warm on my skin and I’m gripping her so tight.

Slowly she takes a few steps towards the grass just behind the bench. She moves onto her knees, and her hands and mouth go still. She leans forward, lowering me to the ground with all the care on Etheria. My back hits the damp grass and she leans over me, a perfect and dumb smile on her face. 

“Catra,” she whispers, and she traces over the edge of my jaw. Her fingers drag lower, down my neck, to the hollow of my throat and right to the top button of my jumpsuit. She rubs the button with her thumb and her smile changes. 

It’s not smug, but it’s not really soft either. It’s kind of… actually, I don’t think it’s a smile at all. She looks needy and desperate. 

I take a deep breath. She’s needy and desperate for me.

She pulls away from me and it takes a lot of self control not to reach out to bring her back. But she puts a second hand on the button and meets my gaze. 

There’s a storm in her eyes. 

“Is this okay?” she whispers, pulling on the button a little. It takes me a second to understand what she’s getting at—I’m just thinking about her eyes and lightning and metaphorical shit. 

But I catch up. “Yes,” I murmur. I wrap a hand around the back of her neck. “Please.”

She doesn’t need to be asked twice. 

She undoes button after button, and her lips are at my throat again. She drags her mouth down my chest, just behind the buttons. Her tongue traces the planes of my stomach and her teeth scrape through my fur. 

She’s undoing my belt before I have the chance to catch my breath.

She kisses at my chest again, leaving heated little pecks all over. Then she pauses, lips pressed against my breast bone. 

“Catra,” she almost groans. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

I bite my lip. I know I’ve told her that I don’t wear them all the time, so I don’t know why she’s surprised. But the way she’s reacting… She’s gripping my hips and basically nuzzling the spot between my tits. 

“Yeah,” I sigh, tangling my hands in her hair. “What are you gonna do about it?”

She lifts her head, moving so that her mouth hovers right above mine and our lips just brush. She stares into my eyes and I feel her hand inching up my torso. “Something like… this?”

Her hand covers my tit and she squeezes it gently. I almost gasp. The way the palm of her hand rubs against my nipple and her firm grip... She smiles again, and moves her hand to lay her thumb over the peak. Her callused finger drags over the sensitive skin and my breath catches again. 

Adora presses a kiss to my lips that I think she intends to be gentle. But I’m burning and I tangle my fingers in her hair. I arch into her hand and I shake at the feeling of her body through the thin and slick material of her new jumpsuit. 

She moves her hand again and before I can whine about the loss, she’s pushing my jumpsuit off my shoulder and exposing my breast to the open air. 

She looks down at my chest and her eyes get wide. “Mara above,” she breathes, and grabs at my hip. “Can I mark you?”

I bite my lip. Fuck, if there wouldn’t be anything hotter than having marks from Adora’s mouth. But I’m not an idiot. I’m covered in fur. Even if she could, no one would ever see it. “I’d like to see you try,” I say, and I’m basically panting. She looks up and smirks. I swallow. “I’d… really like to see you try.”

Adora descends on my tit, starting at the center. She wraps her open lips around my nipple and rolls her tongue over it. My hips jerk and when I look down again, she’s looking up with determination in her eyes. 

Next, she sucks. 

“Ah!” I gasp, and I have my hands in her hair again, holding her against me. I roll my hips against her stomach and when her teeth nibble I groan. 

“Fuck, Adora…” My voice is so breathy I don’t even recognize it. “Don’t stop.”

She takes my other tit in her hand, pushing away my clothes. “Didn’t plan on it.”

Her fingers start to play with my nipple while her mouth plays with the other and my heart starts to pound. I’m biting back whimpers and Adora’s nipping at my collarbone, biting the part of my neck where it meets my shoulder, her mouth is everywhere. 

My chest is aching like my heart's about to burst. Fuck it. This is how I want to die. 

Her lips are at my ear now, and her fingers are brushing at the final button just below my waist. “I want to touch you, baby. I…” she sighs and it shudders, “I want to feel you around my fingers.” 

I think I might actually die. 

She buries her face in my neck. “Please, Catra. I just want to feel you.”

I press my hand to her cheek and pull her back so she can meet my eyes. 

“I wanna feel you too.”

Her eyelids flutter and I move my hand around to her back. I feel for the zipper that starts at the bottom of her neck and I press my finger down underneath it. Her skin is warm and her cheeks flush. 

“Is this okay?” I ask and she nods silently. I lift my head and kiss her. Not on the mouth, just to the left of it. It feels sweeter? I’m not sure. But I want to kiss Adora everywhere, and I’ll start there. 

I pull down Adora’s zipper and when I reach the small of her back I drag my hand back to the spot right between her shoulder blades. I’ve never been able to fully retract my claws—most Magicats can, so obviously not me—but I know how to be gentle with them.

Adora is holding herself up above me with her arms resting on the grass on either side of my head. Her breathing is unsteady and when I start to pull her jumpsuit off and over her shoulders she bites her lip.

“Come on, Adora,” I breathe, and it’s almost pathetic how whiny it is. It would be pathetic, but the way Adora’s eyes grow wide… “I wanna feel you.” 

Adora sits up, pulling away from my reach. And I don’t like that at all, except she pulls her top off her arms and down her torso. 

Mara… her bra is doing the Horde’s work. 

She leans back over me and I immediately place my hands on her stomach. Her firm, taut stomach. I make a small little sound and Adora’s smile becomes a smirk. 

She hums. “You like me.”

I reach up and press a claw to her barely exposed breastbone. “Shut up,” I growl. 

And I tear her sports bra right down the middle.

She gasps and for a second I almost expect her to yell at me. But when she meets my gaze again, her eyes are hungry. 

She descends on my mouth, and it’s so intense I almost start shaking. she grabs the button just below my waist and nearly rips it open. I grab her tits, taking one in each hand and squeezing them. Adora shivers and her hand falters.

“Catra,” she whines against my mouth. I move my hands and grasp her nipples between my fingers. She cries out when I twist and flick them, all the while trying to kiss me, like she can’t pull away.

I want them in my mouth, I want to lick and suck and nip at them with my teeth. But before I can say that Adora’s pressing her hand to my pussy. 

“Mm!” I bite back a cry as she rubs me slowly over my underwear. 

“Baby,” Adora whispers, placing little kisses along my cheek and working up to the base of my ears. “Baby, I’m trying to go slow but please, please , I need to be inside you.” 

I choke on my tongue. 

“Yes,” I gasp in between kisses where she’s biting my lip and licking my teeth. “Yes!”

Her fingers fumble a little but she pushes them under the hem of my underwear and down in between my lips.

She groans. “Catra…” She breaks our kiss and presses her forehead to mine. “You’re so wet.” 

I reach for her hair and arch into her so her nipples brush my chest. I love the way that feels. I love the way she feels, breath hot against my mouth and finger in my folds…

I love her.

The realization tears through me and puts tiny tears in the corners of my eyes. It’s not surprising but right now I can almost convince myself Adora loves me too. 

I want to say something, maybe tell her or something about being wet for her , but instead I pull her mouth back to mine and kiss her with all I’ve got. 

She takes that as some sort of invitation I think and slides her finger down. She brushes over my entrance and I buck my hips, but she just slides back up and barely touches my clit. For someone who says she’s having a hard time going slow, Adora is going very slow. 

“Adora,” I whine, dragging my nails down her back. “Please…”

I can feel her smirk against my mouth. But she doesn’t tease me anymore. She slides her finger back down and slowly presses it inside me. 

We both groan. Fuck, I’m so needy. I’ve never made sounds like this in my life. When I get myself off I don’t have any problem being quiet. Or fast.

This is better, so much better. 

Adora pulls her finger back out and presses the heel of her hand gently on my clit. She rolls her wrist and I bite back a cry. Then she pushes back into me.

“Ah!” I swallow the end of it, trying to hold back at least a little. I sound ridiculous.

Adora shakes her head and kisses my throat again and again. “I wanna hear you, Catra. I wanna know you feel good.”

I can’t help the way my fingers curl and scratch at Adora’s bare skin. But based on the groan she makes, she doesn’t mind.

She pulls out of me and rolls her wrist again. “You’re so beautiful, Catra,” she whispers and I feel a second finger line up at my entrance. She presses in slowly and, fuck, the stretch… I moan, loudly, and she chuckles. “You like that?”

I bite my lip and nod. Adora’s fingers are long and strong. I’m already so close. I just need…

“Faster,” I whimper. 

Adora presses her lips to the base of my ear again. “Faster?” She kisses my head. “I can do faster.” She moves, adjusting her stance. “Harder too?”

I nod and seconds later I’m crying out as Adora thrusts into me with force. 

“You feel so good, Catra.” Adora breathes against my neck. “You’re so beautiful…”

I’m whining again, the pressure building inside of me as Adora slams into my pussy.

“I love how you sound. I wanna listen to you forever.” She curls her fingers and I gasp. Loudly. “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” I cry out, and it’s like I’m getting wound tighter and tighter. 

“You’re so tight,” she sighs. She pulls herself out of the crook of my neck and her gaze burns into mine. “This isn’t it for us, Catra. I promise. I’m not letting you go.” 

I nod, fighting tears. 

“I’m going to hold your hand, and hug you, and kiss you.” She presses her forehead to mine. “And I’m going to touch you. Just like this. They can’t take you away from me. I won’t let them.

“You’re mine.”

She thrusts hard and deep, punctuating her growled declaration and I fall apart.

This is what ascension is supposed to feel like, I’m sure of it. This is redemption, and the love of Mara, and every good thing they teach us about in church. This is the spirit and it has racked my body and left it in flames.  

Eventually I float back down, my breathing and hands shaky. After a second I can make out Adora’s face in front of me. She’s smiling, smug again. Her fingers slow, and all too soon she pulls them out. I almost whimper again, when she lifts them to her mouth, and sucks them clean. 

“Fuck,” I whisper. 

Adora rolls her eyes and pulls her fingers from her mouth. “Language.”

I laugh. Hard. “You just licked my cum off your fingers!”

She closes her eyes and for just a second my heart drops. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck. She’s going to realize what she’s done. She’s going to spiral. She’s going to have a panic attack and say we should forget every beautiful and amazing thing that just happened. 

“Yeah, I did.” She sighs, lowers her head, and drags her nose down my chest. “I think I wanna try it direct from the source.” She lifts her gaze and looks at me from under her lashes. “Would you like that?”

I bite my lip. “Yeah, but first…” I grip her by the hair and pull her head back up to mine, “I want a turn.”

She lets me suck and mark her tits with warm purple spots. She pulls my hair until I cry out. I leave scratch marks on her ass. She licks my pussy until I see the light of Eternia. I lick hers til cum is matted in my fur. 

We’re up on the roof of that chapel almost all night, hidden in our little corner of the garden. I learn about faith, hope, and divinity. I roll around in that grass until I’ve known what it is to be god. 

Our jumpsuits are stained green, and I hope I never manage to get all of it out. 

I’m staring at an empty screen again, like I have been most of the week. I know that no matter how long I look at my trackerpad I’m not going to get a message—Adora has lessons until almost ten tonight. But it doesn’t keep me from checking.

Things are better. I know that objectively. But in a lot of ways they’re so much worse. 

Adora’s still busy all the time learning what it means to be the ‘Savior of Etheria.’ And I’m a lot less busy learning the history of ballads. But when we’re together everything is so much more than it was before. She holds me and kisses me and touches me in places I barely let myself dream about. It’s everything I ever wanted. 

Mostly. 

But there’s something off. Something that turns my stomach when I think about it too hard. I tell myself I don’t care that what we have is a secret - that it will always have to be a secret. I won’t marry Adora, and that’s okay. I can have her in all the ways that matter. 

But maybe those other ways do matter? I want Adora to be mine. And I want to be hers. 

I guess I’ll have to settle for being her secret. 

The strangest thing though isn’t my pathetic pining. It’s that… I wasn’t—I didn't think I’d feel… guilty? It doesn’t really make sense. I’ve never really been bothered by it before, breaking rules. Not if I got away with it. And we are getting away with it. Lonnie doesn’t even know, and I know that because she told me she kinda felt bad that I never got to see Adora anymore. 

Which isn't entirely off base, but I don’t think Lonnie would feel ‘bad’ for me if she knew what we were up to.

I don’t feel great though. 

I always thought the Sanctum rules about dating were stupid and arbitrary. Just let Lonnie and Kyle kiss so I don’t have to watch them pine anymore. But there’s a difference between dating and… well, what Adora and I are doing. 

We aren’t dating. We’re fucking. And that’s kind of more than arbitrary. 

In the Horde, you’re not supposed to have “relations,” as the good clergy always put it, outside of the bonds of marriage. Marriage is “sacred”, and there’s a way you’re supposed to do it. It’s supposedly the most important bond you’ll ever make. 

That’s why Adora always felt like she had to prove something—because her parents separated. They were “weak” and lacked the will to carry out Prime’s great commandments. Especially her mom…

But I don’t buy into that shit. Adora’s dad is a dick and I would’ve left him too. Marriage is dumb and the idea that you can’t love someone without it is dumb. I don’t have to marry Adora to love her.

I sigh and drop my head to my knees.

“I’m such an idiot.”

I buy into that shit. I’ve always bought into it, and I’ve always wanted to marry Adora. I want us to make those promises—to love each other and stand by each other into eternity. I want Adora to promise she won’t leave. And if she does, I want it in writing that she’s doomed to eternity in the Waste.

But maybe she’s already damned. Maybe I’m damning her every time I kiss her…

I sigh and lift my head. That’s something else that is different now. Now when Adora’s not here the space she leaves behind is so much bigger. And all I can fill it with is these stupid thoughts about guilt and sin and commandments.

I look around my room. It feels bare these days. I always meant it to be, I didn’t see the point of making myself at home here, but now it just makes the empty space emptier.

I need to get out of here.

I bite my lip and reach for my Rhythm & Meter textbook. I open it to a page about halfway through and out falls a bright yellow sheet of paper I ripped out of some dork’s hands while he was dicking around outside the music building after lunch. It’s a flier. It’s been folded so many times it’s about to tear at the creases, and some of the lettering has been rubbed away. But today’s date is printed on the bottom in black, bold letters. 

I flatten it against the bed spread and almost smirk.

“Thaymor, huh?”

I’m standing at the edge of the alley directly across from a massive stage that is taking up most of the tiny town’s common area. The rest of the space is packed with people. There are fawns, humans, lizardfolk, mothmen, and more magicats than I’ve ever seen in one place before. Which, still isn’t that many, but it’s a few. And they’re literally all dancing. 

I watch, curious and terrified. I came in my black winter cloak and my “emergency wear.” That’s what they call the one or two outfits they let us bring to the Sanctum to wear if, for some incredible reason, our uniforms get messed up. As a Sanctum student I’m never supposed to be seen out of uniform. But I don’t want these people to know I’m a Sanctum student, and my black torn leggings and dark red tunic are gonna be a lot harder to spot when I sneak back in later tonight.

Then again, the sun hasn’t even set yet and I’m about ready to leave. I just… I don’t belong here.

The music is loud, and thumpy. It’s in a major key and it’s pretty repetitive, but I kinda enjoy the simplicity. It’s more… boisterous than anything I’ve really heard before. Not to mention the language. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the singer say “fuck” five times. Or sing it I guess. And no one’s even flinched. 

And the way people are dancing? They’re hip thrusting and bouncing and throwing their hands in the air. And they’re screaming. Not sure how they hear the music while they’re doing that, but they don’t seem to mind.

I finally lower my hood, trying to decide what I should do next. I’ve been watching from this spot in the shadows for almost two hours. Based on how everyone else here is acting, that’s not what you’re supposed to do at a music festival.

But I don’t think I can do what they’re doing.

Before I can flip my hood back up, turn around and run home, someone waves at me.

He has dark skin, hair that looks almost purple, and he’s wearing a bright white shirt that doesn’t even cover his abs.

I don’t know why I do it, every single part of me tells me not to, but I sorta wave back.

He grins at me, and it kinda reminds me of Adora. That really bright and seering smile that could burn your retinas. 

It almost makes me sad, but I try to smile back anyway. 

I’m sure it’s weak by comparison. Lonnie has told me a bunch of times that I can’t smile—just grimace and smirk. And she’s probably right. She’s a bitch like that.

But Adora always says she’s wrong, and that my smile is Etheria shattering.

The boy who waved quickly taps the shoulder of the girl next to him. She turns to look at me too. Her hair is violently pink and her outfit, while more technically modest, is covered head to toe in sequins. I can barely look at her.

She arches a brow and turns back to the boy. My ears twitch their direction and my tail starts to flick back and forth. But I can’t hear anything over the music.

And then they start walking towards me. 

I stiffen and try to keep my breathing even. I haven’t interacted with many Outsiders, and every time I have it’s been… awkward. The Festal Gorge has some beautiful scenery and people from all over Etheria come to look at it. But they never really know how to interact with us “Hordies.” 

And I have no fucking clue how to interact with them.

“Hi!” the boy says, waving again. He and Sparkles are close now. Too close, honestly. But maybe this is how close Outsiders stand. 

“Hey,” I reply, narrowing my eyes. 

“I’m Bow,” he says, grinning that stupid bright grin again. “This is Glimmer,” he says, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. She doesn't flinch. I’m not sure why I notice that.

“I’ve never seen you at the festival before! What’s your name?” he asks, and he looks so freaking sincere. I want to ask him why the hell he cares. But I came out here to… to…

Okay, I’m not really sure why I’m here. But maybe I don’t want to leave yet.

“I’m Catra,” I say. I expect the interrogation to end there—it usually does. Outsiders, at least the few that live in the Festal Gorge, don’t typically bombard Hordies with questions. They just kind of exist around us. 

This kid is not a typical Outsider. Or maybe he is. He probably just doesn’t know what I am yet.

“Is this your first time?” he asks. I meet his gaze for just a second before glancing at the girl beside him. She’s crossed her arms and she’s looking at me like she’s trying to translate First One’s writing. 

“You could say that.”

He grins. “Glimmer and I come every year. It’s so much fun. The line up this year is so great. I mean The Lashors, Peekablue & Swen, Sea Hawk!”

“Bow, you’re the only one excited for Sea Hawk.”

He pouts and Sparkles rolls her eyes. “That’s not true! Everyone loves Sea Hawk!”

Glimmer sighs and meets my eyes with something other than scrutiny. “All Sea Hawk does are shanties. Like, sea shanties. And every show he makes one up on the spot and, ugh,” she drags her hand down her cheek, “it’s rough.”

I arch a brow. This question is probably gonna out me, big time but I ask it anyway. “What the fuck is a sea shanty?”

Sparkles’ and Boys’ eyes widen just a little. Probably not enough for most people to notice, but I realized pretty young I was better than most people at noticing that kinda thing.

Glimmer scoffs and shakes her head. “I told you, Bow! She’s not a Hordie!”

Now it’s my eyes that get a little wider.

“Wha—Glimmer!”

“What?” 

“You can’t just assume that a person isn’t a Horde Soldier!”

“You assumed that she is ! How is that any better?”

“Well I—“

“What do you mean ‘Horde Soldier’?”

Boy and Sparkles’ mouths snaps shut and they both turn their heads to look at me. Boy looks sheepish. Sparkles looks annoyed.

“You know, the Horde?” she says, sighing. “That creepy religion where they worship the guy with bat ears and, like, all of them live in Festal Gorge?”

I narrow my eyes. “I know what the Horde is. I mean why would you call them soldiers?”

Sparkles’ right eyebrow quirks up and Boy just kind of shuffles his feet.

“Isn’t that what they’re called?” he finally asks. 

And I can’t help it. I groan. 

“We’re not soldiers! Do you think I would be studying applied tonal dissonance for an entire semester if I was a soldier ?”

They both gasp a little and I cross my arms. I’m annoyed, but not really at them. I’m the idiot that blew my own damn cover five seconds into a conversation.

They’re quiet for a minute and they just look at me with these big eyes. Finally, Sparkles speaks. “The bat eared guy’s a thing though, right?”

I roll my eyes. “We don’t worship Prime. It’s—“ I sigh. I don’t know why I’m getting defensive. It’s not like I’m here to convert them. And it’s not like I care. Right? “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How complicated?” Boy asks, standing up a little straighter.

I smile, but it’s toothy and mean. “Complicated.”

They get quiet again and they keep glancing between me and the ground. 

I sigh and throw my head back. “Ask your questions now, because I’m gonna be storming off in, like, three minutes. Max.”

I don’t know why I’m not already. But that gets them talking. 

“Is it true you don’t listen to anything but church-y music?”

“Is there really a giant spire where you sacrifice lizardfolk?”

“Have you ever had alcohol before?”

“Have you ever had sex?”

“Glimmer!” the Boy all but shrieks. “You can’t ask someone that!”

“Ugh!” Sparkles rolls her eyes. “She didn’t say we couldn’t ask that!”

“That’s personal!”

“So? You wanna know too!”

I almost laugh, but instead I just roll my eyes. “We only listen to sacred music, at least while we’re enrolled at the Sanctum, but I’ve never even heard of a fucking shanty before. The Spire is where we hold The Annual Communion. No lizardfolk have died there. Probably. No, I’ve never had alcohol. They don’t sell it in the Gorge. And we’re not supposed to have sex until we’re married and bound.”

Glimmer narrows her eyes and smirks. “That doesn’t mean you haven’t.”

I glare at her. “I’m leaving. Have fun bouncing and gyrating to your ocean music.” 

I take maybe a step before Bow is crying after me. “Wait!” I glance back and he shoots Glimmer a stern look. “I’m sorry about that. We’ve just never met a—“ he bites his lip, “Hordie?”

I huff and turn back around. “Sure. That’s better than ‘soldier.’”

He nods. “You should stay for the festival. It’s really fun.”

I throw a glance back down the alley. It’s dark but there are a few fluorescent lights leading to the next street. “I…” 

I look back at Glimmer and Bow and the sun is setting behind them. It looks like they’re glowing.

“I have to get back before someone notices I’m gone.”

Bow drops his head, but Glimmer purses her lips. “One more song,” she says, holding up a finger. “I promise I won’t ask a bunch of weird questions. But you’ve been hiding back here the whole time. Is that really what you snuck out for?”

I purse my lips. No. It’s not.

I snuck out because I wanted to break a rule. I wanted to do something I’m not supposed to and… feel bad about it. I wanted to make it make sense.

And I wanted to forget about Adora for a little while.

But I haven’t felt bad. Not really. The only time I did was when Boy and Sparkles were asking questions. And I wasn’t breaking any damn rules by answering.

“Fine,” I hold up a finger to match Glimmer’s. “One more song.”

Just enough to make me feel bad. Bad in the way I should feel. Bad in the way that being with Adora makes me feel.

I think. 

I stayed for more than one song. Glimmer and Bow dragged me into the crowd, tearing off my cloak and setting it, folded, on a window sill. Then they taught me how to dance.

I listened to the stupid shanties and threw my hands in the air. I let my hips sway to slow songs and I hopped during the fast ones. The music was always simple, but I recognized structures and patterns I’d been taught about. Most of them to avoid.

And it was fun. It was maybe the most fun I’ve ever had.

“Can I ask one more question?” Sparkles almost whispers.

I lift my head. I was apparently staring at the ground. We’re walking to Glimmer’s mini-skiff. She said she’d give me a ride to the edge of the Gorge. And I guess I trust her to do that.

“Glimmer…” 

“I promise it’s not personal!” she says, waving her hand. “Okay maybe it’s a little personal. But it’s not offensive.” She wrinkles her nose. “Okay I don’t think it’s offensive but—“

I shake my head, but I’m still smiling. “Just ask, Sparkles.”

She narrows her eyes. “It’s Glimmer.”

I smile. “I said what I said.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I just—is it hard? Being a magicat? In the Horde I mean?”

I nearly trip over my own feet.

“What do you mean?”

Glimmer grimaces. “I just—I’ve heard the Horde is kinda prejudiced against magicats.”

I cross my arms and come to a halt. “Where did you hear that?”

She shrugs and stops too. “I always thought it was common knowledge.”

I glance at the ground and my brow furrows. “What have you heard?”

Bow steps up behind Glimmer and puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve heard that there are certain things you can’t do if you’re a magicat. Nothing specific though.”

I swallow and lift my head. “I mean, I can’t join the clergy. And neither can anyone I—“

I blink and I feel like I’m being hit by a bucket of cold water. 

“Marry,” I finish. I wonder if they can hear it, the little click click of the gears in my mind. I shake my head. “Not that I’d want to. Those guys have such a stick up their ass.”

“Why can’t you be a member of the clergy?” Bow asks, and his voice is so… soft. Like I’m gonna break.

I shrug. “Probably because of the War of the Waste. I don’t know, I probably didn’t pay enough attention in Sabbath School.”

Glimmer makes a face. “War of the Waste?” 

I sigh and run a hand through my hair so my nails scratch gently at my scalp. “Yeah, you know the final battle between Mara and Serenia? Queen C’yra of Half Moon and all her soldiers fought for Serenia. And when Serenia got her ass handed to her, Mara cursed the people of Half Moon to look like…” I trail off and spread my arms wide so they can really take the image in, “this.”

The Boy and Sparkles look terrified. 

“What?” they cry out, loud, and in unison, which I’ll admit is a little impressive.

I roll my eyes and start walking. “Where’s this skiff again?”

They scramble to catch up with me. “That’s not true at all !” Glimmer yells, and my ear twitches. “I can’t believe they teach you that!”

“Glimmer…”

“No! Bow! It’s insane! And bigoted! And just—it’s awful!”

I scoff. “And we’re back to being offensive.”

“No.” Glimmer grabs me by the shoulders and narrows her eyes. “You are not cursed, Catra. You aren’t any less worthy than anybody else. And neither are the people who love you.”

I’m frozen in place.

It wasn’t that different, being a magicat. I would know. My mom says I’m always looking for reasons to be angry, and she’s probably right. But the way people treated me at church wasn't… They don’t not like me because I’m a magicat. It’s my horrible personality and bad habits. 

At least, that’s what I always thought. 

“Magicats were refugees from a war torn planet during the time of the First Ones.” My gaze darts to Bow as he speaks. “The kingdom of Halfmoon took them in. Then the crown prince married a magicat and C’yra was his daughter.”

I swallow. “How do you know that?”

Suddenly, Bow smiles. “My dads! They’re historians.”

I furrow my brow. “Adora was going to be a historian…”

I don’t know what the hell that has to do with anything, but now I’m thinking about Adora.

I wish she were here. She’d know exactly what to say to them. She’s good at gospel stuff. She just knows it, and believes it. But I want to believe what Glimmer is saying. It—it feels better.

Not like that’s hard though. Lots of things feel better than being cursed.

“Interesting stuff. Now how close are we to that skiff? I’m getting cold.”

So this is how I die…

I’m in the Waste, the sand is red and thick beneath my feet and hands. My tail is whipping, trying to remain cool. I’ve always done better in the heat than even my fellow magicat soldiers. But I’ve been out here too long, and I’m all out of water. 

I roll onto my back. I know I was looking for something, but it doesn’t matter anymore. 

I close my eyes to block out the blinding light of the sun. 

But I can still feel its warmth, even with my eyes closed. And that warmth is gonna kill me. 

“Catra…”

I hear a voice, but it’s faint and I know I’m probably just hallucinating before I die. But I can almost place it. And it makes me sad.   

“Catra…”

I cover my eyes with my hands. I don’t want this. I don’t want, in my final moments, to be haunted by what those fucking bastards took from us. 

“Catra!”

My eyes fly open. The room is dark, probably because, I realize quickly, I was sleeping and it’s the middle of the goddamn night, but I can still make out the outline of a face hovering over me. 

And I’d know that face anywhere. 

“Adora?” I hiss, and she pulls back. I rise onto my elbows. “What are you doing here?”

She’s smiling. Like, a big smile. “I missed you,” she whispers, and leans forward. She kisses my cheek, and then up my jaw. I almost whimper and my eyelids flutter closed. She hits the hollow under my ear before I grab her by the shoulders and push her away. 

“Lonnie is literally right there!” I nod towards my roommate's bed. 

Adora bites her lip and reaches her hand into my hair. “She’s not.”

I glance back at the other bed. She’s right. It’s empty. 

“Where–”

Adora grabs me by the chin and turns my head to face her. It’s only now that I realize she’s in her pajamas—gray shorts and a matching tank top. 

I’ve seen her naked, so why the fuck does that make me feel warm? 

“I asked Kyle to distract her tonight…”

I furrow my brow. I’m so tired. After the festival last night I could barely sleep, and instead of napping between classes, I was reading on my trackerpad. Bow sent me half a dozen books about the history of Etheria and the First Ones. And, for the first time in my life, I couldn’t stop reading. I was jumping from book to book like a madman. Until I started the one book Glimmer sent me. 

It’s a romance novel. And then, what do you know, I was up late with that.

Worth it.

I smile a little, remembering, then blink. “Distract her?”

Adora’s smile shifts and it’s almost smirk-like. “You’re the one who told me they’re… ya know?”

I almost laugh, but instead just shake my head. I have to stay level headed. But having a pretty girl on top of me is making that hard. “Adora, seriously? Why?”

Her smile finally slips. “I—I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?” 

She looks so… vulnerable, her lips parted just a little and her eyes wide. 

I groan. “Obviously, Adora. But who’s fault is that?”

She frowns, and she’s all business. “Catra, you know I have to do this training. If I’m supposed to be the new She-Ra and commune with Mara so I can lead the Horde—“

“Are you?”

My voice isn’t loud, it isn’t even harsh. But she looks like I slapped her.

“What?”

I rub the sleep out of my eye with the heel of my hand. “Are you really destined to lead the Horde? Are we really meant to ‘enlighten’ Etheria?”

“Of course, Catra. What are you talking about?”

I sigh and cross my arms loosely. “I don’t… look—I met some people.”

Adora’s brow furrows. “People?”

I roll my eyes. “I went to this, like, music festival in Thaymor…” I expect her to reprimand me, but she waits. “And I met some people there and they—they told me some things…”

Now she grabs me by the shoulders. “Catra, you can’t listen to them. The spirit of Serenia will try—“

“Serenia was a First One!”

I don’t yell, but my voice carries and it leaves a very still silence behind. 

Adora drags her hands down my arms. “Why would you say that?”

“Because!” I throw up my arms, shaking off her hands. “I read it in a book!” I pick my trackerpad up off my night stand. I open the files. “And this one, and this one!”

Adora shakes her head, not even looking at the pad. “Catra…”

I nearly growl, dropping the pad in my lap. “She did fight Mara in the great war, but she wasn’t Etherian!”

Adora sighs. “So what?”

“So what?” I grit my teeth. “So it’s a lie.”

Adora reaches out for me again and holds my face in her hand. I can’t help but lean into her touch even though I know she’s just trying to pacify me. “Or a misunderstanding. Or mistranslation. But what does Serenia being a First One change?”

Nearly growling I reach up, grab Adora by the neck, and pull her into a searing kiss. She responds immediately, kissing me back and trying to slow me down. 

I pull away suddenly, and if I weren’t so frustrated I would laugh at the surprised look on her face. “You aren’t supposed to kiss me,” I whisper. I lean in and press a gentler kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re not supposed to care about me like this. We aren’t supposed to be together.”

I let my lips graze hers, brushing gently against the taught skin as I speak. “But does it feel wrong? Does it even feel bad ?” 

It was reading those books only a few hours before that made me realize I was wrong. I didn’t feel guilty about being with Adora—I was afraid of being caught. I was afraid of loving Adora, who could never love me. I was afraid of ending up like Adora’s mother - thrown out and forgotten.

But I don’t feel guilty. Because I’m not doing anything wrong.

I press into Adora and kiss her softly. “Does this feel like sin?”

She doesn’t answer me. She just kisses me harder, slowly leans me back against the pillows and takes her time as she runs her hands over my entire body. She kisses my neck, and I wonder if she leaves marks under the fur. She presses into me with her fingers and I see stars.

Chapter Text

Walking to Light Spinner’s office shouldn’t make me nervous every time I do it, but I can’t help it. The first few times, I thought the nerves would dissipate quickly—she’s my mentor, someone I should be able to count out. That hasn’t turned out to be the case.

I can’t get that nickname for her out of my head—Shadow Weaver. It reverberates in my mind specifically in Catra’s voice. I can almost imagine the sneer she makes when she says it too. Maybe it’s that. Maybe, it’s the fact that I know Light Spinner wouldn’t approve of what I do, especially with Catra.

Catra who is sneaking off to hang around nonbelievers—she calls them friends, but how can they be when she shares nothing in common with them? Catra, who has been talking more and more about things outside of the Festal Gorge—things that could get her in trouble and that she has no business knowing about. Catra, who I’ve been kissing and touching in all the ways that could get both of us expelled from the Sanctum. Catra, who seems to be holding back from me, a careful look on her face whenever we talk now.

I’m nervous as I knock on Light Spinner’s door. I roll onto the balls of my feet as I wait, opening the door when she yells for whoever it is to come in. I know the moment she realizes it’s me because her stern look relaxes a fraction and she crosses her hands on her desk. 

“She-Ra. What a surprise. I don’t believe we have a lesson scheduled.” Light Spinner has never been anything but perfectly polite to me. “What brings you here, child?”

“I have something to tell you. A suggestion really.” I start hesitantly, looking down at the dark wood beneath me. “I’m not sure if it’s my place to say.”

I can feel Light Spinner’s eyes on my face, but I don't dare look up. Not yet. “Come, child. Have a seat.” Her voice is a soft croon, likely hoping to soothe me.

My legs feel like lead as I grab the chair across from her desk. It feels like a hot seat given that it doesn’t even fit the color scheme of the room—I wonder if Light Spinner did that on purpose. If it had been anyone else’s office, the rest of it might have been inviting—the warm curtains draped over the windows, the old fireplace with embers crackling—but I can’t feel safe here. Not now when I want counsel from Light Spinner on such a sensitive topic. 

“I know you’ve been considering Lonnie for Class Officer.” I follow the grains of wood on the desk with my eyes for a moment before braving a look up at Light Spinner’s face. She’s impassive, clearly waiting for me to say my piece. “I think that Catra is better suited for the role.” 

“Catra? What makes you think that girl would be better than Lonnie?” Light Spinner’s nose wrinkles in disapproval. “My understanding of that one is that she’s unremarkable in every way.” 

I clench my hands at my side. I fight the urge to take a deep breath, to keep my head bowed and eyes low. Normally, I know that Light Spinner is the one in charge—and if I want something, the best way to get it is to defer to her good judgment. 

But I keep forgetting what I am— who I am. If I’m She-Ra, I don’t need to buckle to Light Spinner. I tilt my chin up and puff up my chest, my stomach tied in knots as I think about exerting authority this way.

“Catra is incredibly smart and compassionate. She just needs motivation. To be brought into the fold more—to feel like she has a part to play in the mission” I can feel Catra slipping away. Maybe if she is a Class Officer, she’ll find a reason to stay here in the Sanctum. To stay with me. “I believe she could be one of the best Class Officers we have.” I bite my lip. “The spirit of Mara has shown me.” 

That makes Light Spinner stiffen, her expression indecipherable as she scans my face. I hope to Mara she doesn’t see the guilt that floods me—Mara hasn’t shown me anything. This might be my greatest sin yet in trying to save Catra. I’m supposed to be the new She-Ra, but I feel farther from Mara than I ever felt. I still believe so much, so how can I do this now? Maybe Lord Hordak was right about my attachments. I grit my teeth and swallow thickly. No, I’m She-Ra and I do believe in Catra. That means something. I have to see this through.

“How did Mara show you this?” Light Spinner is sitting forward in her chair now, eyes bright and interested.

“She—she gave me wisdom. It’s something I’d never thought of, but now I feel compelled to share this thought with you. I can only believe it is through Prime’s light and Mara’s guidance that this idea has occurred to me.” I bow my head further. “Otherwise, I would never dream to advise of something opposite to your own discernment.” 

It’s quiet as Light Spinner contemplates me, looking at me up and down with sharp eyes. Finally, she leans back into her chair, hand wrapped around one of her pens. 

“I will take this under advisement. I know not why, as She-Ra, you would be interested in something as trivial as a Class Officer, but I trust in your … wisdom. We shall see what we can do to accommodate it.” 

I let out a breath I think I’ve been holding for days now, from the moment I thought of speaking with Light Spinner. “Thank you, Light Spinner. I promise, you won’t be disappointed in her.” 

I get up and I start to walk toward the door.

I know that once Catra starts being recognized for who she is, for what she is capable of, she won’t be thinking about music festivals or strange historians that preach falsehoods. And no one will suspect me or Catra of any wrongdoing if she’s a Class Officer. We can be together in some way, just not the way that I imagined before all this happened—She-Ra happened. And most importantly, Catra will stay here.

The thought of Catra leaving the Sanctum makes my heart feel like it will crack wide open. I can’t let that happen—I can’t let her go.

“Adora.” 

I freeze a few paces from the exit, turning to look back. “Yes?” 

“I caution you as you interpret Mara’s… guidance. It is a great duty and responsibility that you face, child.” Her eyes narrow. “It would be a shame if you were unable to wield it gracefully.” 

My saliva feels thick on my tongue as I swallow and nod quickly. “Of course. Thank you, Light Spinner. Our conversations are always illuminating.”

With that, I manage to leave. I let myself lean against the closed door the moment I’m out. For better or for worse, what’s done is done. I know the guilt will probably gnaw on me later, but I can’t find it in myself to regret lying now. 

The truth is, I’d do anything to keep Catra with me. Lying in She-Ra’s name feels like a small price to pay right now if it means Catra doesn’t leave.

Chapter Text

I’m going to leave.

I have been waiting outside Shad—Light Spinner’s office for almost an hour. I’ve seen half a dozen students, teachers, and priests come and go, but I’m still sitting here. Waiting.

She’s the one who wanted to see me !

I cross my arms and lean back in the chair. She’s probably trying to make me sweat. I’m sure I’m in trouble. I don’t know what the hell for, but I’m sure I am. Authority figures never want to talk to me unless I’m in trouble. 

The last time I talked to my mom was last semester when I got a low grade on a test in “Theological Principles and Applications.” It was a lovely conversation that lasted all of five minutes and ended with a very loaded “make us proud.” Neither she or my dad have called since. And, according to the recent adjustments to the Sanctum accords, she could’ve. She could call once a week…

Whatever. The point is, Shadow Weaver has something on me. She has to. 

I lift my leg and cross it over the other. My heart is pounding in my chest, and it’s so loud I can barely think. But I have to. I have to be ready for her, and I have to hold my head high.

I close my eyes. If I’m being honest I’ve done a lot of shit in the last couple weeks that could’ve landed me here. But I’ve been careful. I covered my tracks, just like I always do. 

I’ve never really been a rule follower. Not in spirit at least. I keep to the letter. I do exactly what I have to do, just enough to keep from ending up where I am right now - in an administrative building, about to be expelled.

Fuck, by Shadow—Light Spinner, too.

I sigh and drop my head. I’ve been calling her Light Spinner lately, even in my head. I don’t want to slip up in front of Adora. There are a lot of things I don’t let slip in front of Adora.

I could tell she was worried after that night she snuck into my room and I told her about meeting Bow and Glimmer. She keeps looking at me with sad eyes and even the stuff I’ve always done, like napping on her shoulder during lessons and cursing, are making her twitchy.

So I’ve been trying to pretend. I’m pious. I’m devout. I’m righteous. I haven’t let anyone know about the crippling doubt that eats at me every day or the total liberation that I find just outside the walls of the Sanctum’s campus.

And I’m still fucking the “Savior of Etheria.”

I don’t know how Adora can be so blind to the hypocrisy of it. She kisses me, and touches me, late at night away from prying eyes, but in the cold light of day she pretends just like I do. She pretends to believe.

And maybe she does. Maybe Adora really buys all of it, but I don’t. Not anymore. 

I wonder how much I ever did.

It’s not… easy, exactly. There are still a lot of things that don’t make sense anymore. What’s true, what isn’t. Obviously, Adora glows. I saw that with my own eyes. But is it the Spirit of She-Ra? Is she actually the vessel of a reborn goddess? And what did Horde Prime actually see? If he saw anything? Was he just a radical sociopathic conman? Or maybe he actually saw something, but didn’t understand it? 

I never really cared about the divine. But it shaped how I saw the world. It touched everything. And now… is it really all just a lie?

Lately, on the nights Adora has lessons, I’ve been sneaking off to meet with Bow and Glimmer in the woods. And when we’re not hanging out we’re messaging on my trackerpad. They’ve sent me books and music and shows. And it’s not bad.  

I don’t feel bad or guilty reading the books or listening to the music or watching the shows. I love the stories and the meaning behind all of it. There are themes and lessons, just like in the Horde’s media, but these are different stories. They’re about people. Real people. 

And they’re about love.

But I haven’t told anyone, not even Adora. No one knows I’m reading, that I’m messing around with this stuff. They can’t. So, I use headphones. I lock the door. My trackerpad is password protected, and it’s always on me.

Even in the bathroom.

I squeeze my sides. I didn’t bring it with me now. I didn’t want to have any evidence on me. But I hid it somewhere no one will ever find it.

Shadow Weaver’s door opens again and out steps one of the history professors. I’m pretty sure he’s one of Adora’s favorite teachers and that his name is Cobalt. 

He walks down the hall and I follow him with my eyes. 

“Catra?” I turn my head back. Shado—Light Spinner is still standing in her doorway. She beckons me forward. “Come here.”

Slowly I stand, wiping my sweaty hands on my jumpsuit. I feel like her eyes are trying to burn holes in my face. They’re the only thing not hidden behind that veil the High Priestesses wear. I’ve always thought hers looks different though. Like she’s actually hiding something. 

I pass through the door and take the seat in front of the desk. It’s made of a soft lilac wood that clashes with the rest of the decor. But that might be the point. I’m not supposed to feel comfortable here. 

I sit down and Light Spinner moves behind her desk. 

“I’m sure you know why I’ve asked you here today, Catra,” she says as she lowers herself into her chair. The movement is smooth and unnerving. Just like the rest of her.

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. “No, actually, I don’t.”

She clasps her hands together on the desk and narrows her eyes. “Don’t be flippant with me, child.”

My tail twitches, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t notice. She’d have to know something about magicat physiology to know what it means anyway. And there’s no way she does. 

Because no one here does. Because magicats are barely tolerated in the Horde. 

“I’m not being ‘flippant,’” I reply, staying calm. “I don’t know why I’m here. And since you haven’t told me yet—“

“If you insist on being difficult, I will make this difficult, Catra.”

I arch a brow. I choose my words so carefully. I can’t say “I didn’t do anything,” or ask, “am I in trouble?” One is basically an admission and the other is cowardly. I have to play this right. 

“Since you haven’t told me yet, I’m gonna have to guess I’m in trouble. And probably for nothing.”

Shadow Weaver’s eyes have narrowed into slits and she’s fuming. “One of your fellow students came to see me yesterday,” she starts, and I try not to choke on the breath that catches in my throat. “They were concerned for you.”

I swallow. 

“Where is your trackerpad, little sister?”

A small wave of relief washes over me, but I don’t let it show on my face. “I lost it.”

Shadow Weaver arches a brow. “Oh, really?”

I nod, “Yup.” I don’t elaborate.

She rolls her eyes. “No matter.” She stands again, rounding the desk. “You’ve been seen sneaking out of your room late at night. And on the nights you haven’t, someone else has been seen sneaking into it.”

My heart is pounding so hard I feel it in my head. This is bad. Very bad. Honestly it’s worse than I imagined. The music, the books, all of that is nothing compared to what I have with Adora. Someone knows about me and Adora. And they told Shadow Weaver.

“Wait, seriously?” I force out a laugh. It doesn’t sound strained but it’s not right . “What idiot told you that?”

I have every intention of ripping out their throat. 

She steps up behind me and I try to keep from tensing up. “You deny it then?”

“Obviously!” I turn my head and meet her hard stare. “No one’s been sneaking–”

Before I can finish she’s reaching for me, and her fingers land, firm and certain, on my neck. Just below my jaw. 

I nearly cry out. 

I’m surprised for just a second by how much it hurts. She’s not pressing hard, but the spot skin under her fingers is sore. And I don’t know why. 

“Hmmm…” she hums, and I try not to flinch as she leans forward. She drags her nails through the fine fur on my neck, like she’s looking for something. “Just as I suspected,” she sighs, finally pulling back. 

“You probably do not know this,” she murmurs, her hand falling away, “seeing as they are quite hard to see underneath all that mangy fur, but magicat skin marks quite easily, little sister.”

My breath catches in my throat. 

“No–that–” I swallow and shake my head. I trace my fingers over the bruises I didn’t even know were on my neck. “How could–”

She chuckles and steps back in front of me. She clasps her hands. “Where is your trackerpad, child?”

I look up into her cold gaze, and she’s almost smiling. “I lost it,” I say, through gritted teeth. 

She shakes her head and sighs. “There is someone very concerned for the state of your soul, Catra. And you make a mockery of her.”

My entire body goes rigid. 

“What?”

Shadow Weaver narrows her eyes. “Fine, if you will not hand it over, I will have your room searched. But I do not need the evidence on it to enact your punishment, Catra. And you will be punished. You have sullied yourself and this fine institution with your–”

I can’t even hear her anymore. All I hear is the roaring in my ears and the shattering of my heart. 

“There is someone very concerned for the state of your soul, Catra. And you make a mockery of her.”

She wouldn’t. She… she couldn’t. It doesn’t make sense. I trace the marks on my neck again, wincing at the tenderness. 

If Adora turned me in then… then…

“–worse - you brought another soul down with you. Your lecherous behavior has tainted another young mind and ruined them. You selfish creature. Who could you loathe so much as to do this to them?”

I lift my head and furrow my brow. “What?”

She huffs. “You heard me. Who else have you tried to drag from the path?”

I almost laugh. “You—she didn’t tell you?”

Shadow Weaver’s eyebrow arches. “Tell me what?”

Nothing is adding up. Nothing. Adora told Shadow Weaver there would be marks on my neck but not that she was the one that left them? She told her there was “evidence” on my trackerpad, but not that messages from her were the most damning of all?

Or were they?

It only takes me a second of thought to realize that Adora and I don’t say anything in our trackerpad messages anymore. She doesn’t even ask me to come to the chapel roof, not in so many words. She just shows up in my room when she has time or sends me a picture of my favorite rose bush.

She’s left no trail. Except a trail of bruises on my neck. 

My blood goes cold. 

Adora believes. Adora has always believed. Adora believes so much it consumes and defines her. Adora is She-Ra, the savior of Etheria.

And I guess she has to start by saving me. 

I laugh. The hypocrisy is worth a laugh. Adora can break a rule because Adora believes and it’s just one rule. One rule she doesn’t think should count. But the rule is there. It’s there for a reason and when I start to question that reason, when I start to wonder about who wrote the rules and if they should’ve been writing them at all, it’s not okay anymore. 

I laugh again, harder. Adora didn’t even confess. She just… gave me up.

The worst part of all of this is that no one will believe me. Even if Adora is a terrible liar, Shadow Weaver of all people isn’t going to believe her beloved savior would stoop so low as to touch me. I’m going to be expelled, I’m going to be sent home and they’re going to try and recondition me and I’ll never be free again. But Adora? She’s going to stay here. She’s going to bask in the light she now gives off and she’ll tell herself, every time she thinks that maybe she misses me, that she did the right thing. 

She’ll get to be the hero who sacrificed my body for her sins, and she’ll be the Savior of Etheria. 

Not if I can fucking help it. 

I straighten in my chair and quiet my hysterical laughter. I meet Shadow Weaver’s nervous gaze with a smile. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I whisper, and brush a strand of hair from my eye. “But I can show you.”

It’s dark. And cold. Summer is ending and the day moon set hours ago. I scratch my claw on the stone bench underneath me and stare out at the horizon where it would’ve gone down. 

I haven’t heard the day moon sing in so long…

But I can hear the quiet whipping of robes in the gentle breeze. 

My ears keep twitching on my head. There are so many of them. Six, I think. I told Shadow Weaver that was too many, that if there were a bunch of people in the garden with me Ad– she would notice and suspect something. But Shadow Weaver didn’t listen to me. So now my ears are twitching at each little noise - the priest hidden behind a tree to my left breathing too hard, the guy in the back corner shuffling his feet…

I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders. She should be here any minute. The note Kyle took her said eleven. Without my trackerpad I can’t be sure what time it is, but I know we left Shadow Weaver’s office at ten-thirty and it only takes fifteen minutes to cross campus. I can’t be sure how long I’ve been sitting here, digging my toe-claws into the small patch of grass under my feet, but it won’t be much longer now. 

I wonder what she thought when Kyle gave her my note. He didn’t tell us if she said anything, just nodded at Shadow Weaver and said it was done. 

I grit my teeth and close my eyes. I don’t even know if this is going to work. 

When I’d handed Kyle my note and told him to deliver it to… her , Shadow Weaver’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t react other than that. I know she doesn’t believe me, but for some reason she’s giving me the chance to prove her wrong. 

Which is more than I could’ve reasonably hoped for. 

But what if Ado— she doesn’t show? She’s not an idiot. Obviously whatever we had wasn’t going to last forever—she’s the one who wrote in the expiration date. But she must’ve had a plan. Was she going to call it off? Maybe even tell me what she told Shadow Weaver? Or was she going to keep playing with me until I just disappeared one day and then act like I never existed?

My heart pounds hard at the thought. 

Shadow Weaver. She told Shadow Weaver.  

My stomach turns. I know she wasn’t… detailed. She couldn’t have been. Shadow Weaver would’ve seen right through her if she was. But she–she–

She gave me up. 

She chose the church. She chose some stupid grand destiny and the mindless hero worship of a bunch of people she doesn’t even know. She chose Shadow Weaver. 

And… she didn’t choose me.

I always knew she wouldn’t, but it still aches. 

My ear flicks at a sound—the door to the roof sliding open—and I sit up straight. 

“Catra?”

Her whisper carries across the entire garden and the moment the sound settles in my chest, I stand. 

Adora can decide to be whoever she wants. She can be a hypocrite and a liar. She can spend the rest of her pathetic life playing this part and spewing bullshit about Prime and Mara to anyone who will listen. She can be their perfect little savior. 

But she doesn’t get to decide for me anymore. 

I turn and step out from beside the rose bush. 

“Hey, Adora.”

She smiles at me. It’s bright and brilliant and reminds me of the day moon’s song. But I don’t hear it anymore. 

She runs through the garden, and her smile doesn’t slip. Deep in my chest there’s a quiet little voice, one I haven’t heard in hours, that asks why she’s smiling. Doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she have any idea about what’s about to happen? Is she really this stupid? Does she really think I wouldn’t take her down with me?

I ignore the voice. 

She stops in front of me, her ponytail whipping her neck, and grabs my arms. She squeezes and leans forward to rest her head against mine. 

“Catra…” she breathes, “sorry I’m late.”

I smile, and I try to keep it soft. “It’s okay.” I lift my hand and press it to her cheek. “You’re here now.” 

She nods a little and leans back. Her eyes are bright, and happy. So… happy.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, loud enough that only I can hear and I nearly snarl. 

But I don’t. I don’t snarl, or growl, or even frown. I just smile, stroke her cheek again, and throw a quick glance to my right. 

I can see him, the priest behind the tree, and he can see her. 

“I missed you too.”

I lean in and I do it slowly. I need to give Adora time to pull away. I need to prove that she lets me kiss her. And that she’ll kiss me back. 

When our lips touch the fire that has been burning in my belly takes over my entire body and for a second I lose control. This is it. This is how we end. We’re going up in flames, and we’re going up together. 

I’m going to enjoy this. 

I kiss her hard, letting myself pretend as her hands drag down my sides and wrap around my waist that she loves me. Her tongue traces my lip and I pretend she chose me. A quiet moan escapes her mouth and I pretend this isn’t the end. 

But when she whispers my name, I don’t have it in me to pretend anymore. 

I break away, breathing heavy and fingers shaking as I pull them out of Adora’s hair. 

“Goodbye, Adora,” I whisper, placing one more soft kiss against her cheek. “I really am going to miss you.”

Chapter Text

“... I really am going to miss you.” It’s a hushed whisper in my ear and I revel in the feel of it, and the soft press of Catra’s lips on my cheek. The words don’t register at all for a long while but when they do, I’m confused.

I try to search Catra’s gaze but she won’t look me in the eye. “What—?” Before I can formulate a thought, a flood light comes on from the main building. I put my hand up to block the light, searching for what in Mara’s name is causing it. 

It takes a minute before I see the hooded figures running right toward us. It’s violent and painful when the guards pull my arms from Catra. There’s voices all around, and I can’t make out what they’re yelling at each other in the fray. “Catra!” All I care about is making sure she’s okay, that they don’t harm her. I don’t know how they knew we were here but I know that if they grab Catra it will be ten times worse for her. 

She isn’t touched though. She looks like a goddess amongst the fray, the white robes moving around her as they get to me. She’s not in my line of vision for long because I’m pulled in a different direction even as I thrash and try my best to escape their hold. 

The lights are cut off and now it’s dark. I’m guessing at least four people are holding on to me. Every time I manage to elbow someone’s hands away and connect with some fleshy part of them, another hand comes and replaces it. I cry out when my shoulder rams into something hard and sharp—a door frame?— before I’m pushed onto my knees. 

For a moment, I can’t breathe at all. All I can feel is a crushing weight on my back that my lungs can’t fight against. I think this is how I’m going to die. I try to fight but there’s no use—I can’t even tell if my vision is swimming because of the panic. For a second another light flashes and I hear murmurs of awe that make it realize it’s me. It doesn’t make them let me go and the light flickers out almost as soon as it burns.

When I take a breath, it’s shuddering and deep, the weight lifted off of me and a door slams behind me. I whimper for a moment on the ground before I realize I’m not tied down anymore. I slowly pull myself up and look around.

It's almost more terrifying, the silence after everything. I'm in a room that's small but clean. There's one small window, too high up for me to see out of and a few bare decorations. There’s some holy books in the corner, and a bed, but nothing more. Glory Be to Prime, Glory be to Mara, and Glory be to Eternia written across one of the walls and the typically comforting phrase makes a shiver cross my spine for the first time ever.

If I had to guess this is likely a prayer room for the more devout Priests, the ones who spend days or even weeks alone trying to commune with Mara. 

I can’t find it in me to pray now with my blood pumping through me and confusion ripping me apart. Really, there’s nothing to do except think. 

One minute, Catra was kissing me so passionately I thought I could burst, and the next I'm being pulled away, taken while Catra gave me a cold stare. Not to mention whatever just happened to me—the Priests who used violence against me are the same ones that pledge their loyalty to Mara. To Prime. To She-Ra, and by extension to me. It feels like a betrayal too—although nothing hurts more than the thought of Catra turning her back on me.

I hold my knees to my chest tightly, trying to make my lungs work again. Catra must have known. She wasn't surprised when the Priests grabbed me. At first, her facial expression didn’t register with everything else going on, but I can see it in my mind’s eye now—her eyes widened as I was pulled back, but it didn’t seem unexpected to her. They didn't even restrain Catra, instead she just stood there. She watched me get dragged away and didn't do a thing. Catra knew. She must have known.

But why would she cooperate with them? She voiced her doubts to me. We were a team—she and I against everything and everyone. I thought she knew that. I lied to help her, and I—I did things I knew would make me burn when all is said and done. It shouldn’t be surprising—Catra makes me burn now. 

I feel dizzy and a throbbing headache starts out behind my eyes—it’s bright. Too bright for it to be this room I’ve been shoved into. I cover my eyes and lay down on the ground but it doesn’t help. The light is buzzing behind my eyelids, demanding my attention. 

With my eyes closed, I see things I don’t understand—it’s flashing and disorienting, like moving in a skiff that’s out of control. I see grass greener than anything here in the Sanctum, bright flowers and trees, all out of focus but no less beautiful. There’s a building, tall and in the distance but I can’t make out the shape of it. Finally, there’s someone I would recognize anywhere—Mara, staring at me. Her mouth is open but I can’t make out any words. It looks like she’s mouthing it. I try to read her lips but it’s impossible and my head hurts more the harder I try to focus. 

Then it’s darker than night and colder than death. I open my eyes and I can’t see the difference between that and having them closed. It takes a minute for them to adjust to the little light coming in from the small crack beneath the door. I’m still in this tiny room with no clue of what is happening.

My stomach is in knots and my head still pounds, even now that the light is gone. My hands tremble as I reach for a small garbage can in the corner of the room. I spill my guts into it, gripping it tightly as I close my eyes. I rest my head against the cool plastic, holding it in place. I breathe in through my nose and grimace. The place smells like dust and cobwebs, and now the contents of my stomach. 

I push the garbage bin back, until it touches the wall and then I turn over. There’s a small bed over at the corner of the room but I can’t find the will or the strength to move. I just lay there on the ground, feeling my eyes get heavy as I hurt and try not to cry.

I can barely crack my eyes open the next day. There is very little light that comes in through the only window, but there is an overhead light that’s now on. I assume that means it’s daytime, but it’s hard to tell. I pull myself off the ground. My knees hurt—my whole body hurts from spending the night on the ground. I think about laying down on the bed for a while but I dismiss the idea. I need to get out of here—wherever here is, exactly. 

I walk toward the door and I knock loudly. It hurts my knuckles. When I look down there are bruises blooming on them. A sick sense of satisfaction fills me—that means I must have hit someone hard enough for them to feel it today. A part of me hopes they hurt worse than I do. 

I knock again, this time with my palm open and nothing happens. 

“Let me out, please.” I raise my voice, but I don’t yell yet. I knock again, this time a bang on the door. “Let me out!”

The door opens but there are two Priests standing at the door, blocking it completely. I can barely make out the hallway this room is in and there’s nothing recognizable to me in what I do see.

“Good day, little sister.” One of them answers stiffly. He’s older than me but likely not one of the senior clergy. I don’t recognize him. “We ask that you not cause a disturbance. Light Spinner would not be pleased.”

“I wouldn’t cause a disturbance if I wasn’t shoved into this room last night.” I can’t even begin to try and be agreeable. “Just let me leave.”

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “We are here to attend to your needs. Let us know if there is anything we can fetch you.”

I let out a frustrated huff. “Can I at least know what time it is?”

He looks down at his pocket watch, pulling it out of his robe before snapping it shut. “It is half past eleven in the morning.”

I lean my weight forward for a second, as if bracing to barge through these two men. But then I sigh and the fight leaves me. I take a few steps backwards and I can tell the men guarding my door relax a fraction. 

The younger of the two looks at me with something resembling regret. There’s a split second when I think he’s going to speak, perhaps even let me go, but the other one closes the door before anything further can happen.

I stare at the thick wooden door for a moment longer before retreating further into the room. I sit on the bed—it’s the springy kind, where you can almost feel the coils that lie beneath the cushion. 

My mind wavers between my current situation and the night before. Of course, I struggle with communing with Mara, but in a moment of terror I seemed to call forward our connection. At least, I assume that’s what the vision I had last night was. 

My first thought is that this is something Light Spinner would want to know. She knows the most about Prime and Mara of anyone I’ve ever met—if anyone knows the meaning of what happened to me last night, it’s probably her. 

For a few minutes, I wonder what would happen if I tell the guards of my vision and use it to get out of this whole mess. But I can’t do that. I’m already in hot water—who knows what might happen to me if this got out.

If I ever get out of here. I put my head in my hands and a shuddering breath leaves me. In so many ways this is exactly the worst scenario. I was so confident that Catra and I wouldn’t get caught—that somehow I’d be able to continue my training and fulfill my duty while having a piece of my life that stayed mine. The most important part. 

I never imagined that Catra would somehow be involved in exposing us. It never occurred to me that would even be a possibility. 

A part of me still doesn’t believe it, even though it’s what makes the most sense. There has to be some other explanation I’m overlooking, another answer that isn’t the obvious one. 

I stand up and I grab one of the four books on the stand alone shelf in the corner of the room. I thumb through until I find the passage I’m looking for—the verses of Mara traveling through the Crimson Waste, running out of water and food part way through.

I think I might feel about as hopeless as Mara did then. I let my eyes drift over the words I know rote, barely flinching when one of my tears falls on the page and blurs the ink. 

It doesn’t get easier being left alone for this long. I read through the only books I had within the first two days of being stuck in this room. I asked the Priests standing at my door for other things to read and although they way they’ll look into it, they only approach with a few meals a day and barely a glance at me when they drop off the food. 

I take to speaking aloud to remember the sound of my voice. It feels like I’m being dramatic but I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this holding pattern. By the third day, I’ll do anything to not stew in my own thoughts any longer. 

I hear a sharp knock at the door and I perk up without really thinking about it. It’s surely the guards with a meal and even though they barely say two words to me—it’s a person to interact with and that’s something I’ve been missing. 

I blink quickly when instead of one of the guards entering my room, it’s Light Spinner herself. At first, I feel a swell of relief that threatens to crush me—Light Spinner has always said she wants to guide me and it’s what she’s done. She’s finally here to give me answers. But then I remember—she might have been the one who did this to me. 

I stand up quickly from my bed, knees screaming in protest at the sudden movement after three days of near endless repose. 

Light Spinner eyes me carefully, her stare cold as she regards me. "Adora." She says slowly. 

“When can I be let out?” There’s almost a whine to my voice and I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t so desperate to leave. As far as I know, there’s no one that’s trying to get me out of here besides me—my Dad is a High Priest, my mom surely won’t start caring about me now, and Catra might have put me here. No one else cares enough to try. 

“That depends on you.” Her green eyes flash from behind her veil. “Do you understand the number of sins that have led you here? Have you repented?” 

I blink for a moment. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Besides the kiss, I have no idea what Light Spinner knows about what I’ve done.

Her nostrils flare. “Playing coy will get you nowhere.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know that you cannot engage in carnal entanglements . Especially with someone as troubled as that girl.”

“Ca—” I think about denying it for a moment, the defense hanging on my lips but I can’t get the words out, not when I’m pinned by Light Spinner’s glare. “I do know.” I whisper instead, my gut tightening. 

I don’t know how much she knows, but I know that I’m not supposed to do the things I’ve been doing with Catra before marrying her. And I know that I’m not supposed to marry anyone because of who I am.

I know better than anyone that I’ve damned myself, hard as I try to ignore it. 

Light Spinner looks even taller than usual standing over me, and I feel like a child. It’s the same shame that’s run through me my whole life when I’d watch kids point and whisper about me. About how I come from a broken home and their parents probably told them to stay away. 

Except now, I’m being condemned through no fault but my own.

Her lips curl into a sneer as she stares at me. “Then, have you learned your lesson?”

Even under her scrutiny, I want to say no. She already knows about Catra and I, she’s already locked me in this room—what else will she do to me? And underneath the shame, I can’t find a part of me that regrets being with Catra even now that I’m well and caught.

“I understand now.” I always understood—it doesn’t mean I’d take even a moment of it back. 

Light Spinner’s shoulders relax, taking my words as an apology and expression of contrition. It’s just as well. “Good, child.” She waves her hand in the air, as if batting away my malcomportment. “Even the strongest of us struggle when tested.” 

I press my mouth into a thin line and look down at my feet. My shoes are still stained green from the fresh cut grass I walked through to get to Catra. 

Light Spinner clears her throat. “Now—do you know where Catra went?”

My head snaps up to look at her. “What?” I don’t understand the question—Catra was right there that night and I haven’t seen her since. Light Spinner has to know that. “Isn’t she in her room or at class?” Where else would she be? 

She straightens up further, her expression severe as she puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch as I feel her nails through the fabric of my clothes. “I will not be asking twice, Adora. And your silence will not protect her. Where did Catra leave to ?”

“Leave?” I repeat the word trying to make sense of it. Catra couldn’t have—she left without me? “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where is she?” I feel panic swell and all I want is to see her, to know that she hasn’t run off the way Light Spinner is suggesting. “Did you check with her teachers? Lonnie and Kyle might know where she is—or maybe some of the other girls in the choir?” I try to think of any place she could be as a pit grows in my stomach. 

She stares at me, her eyes searching my face in a long moment of silence. She must find what she’s looking for because she nods to herself. "Catra is no longer a concern of yours."

"I really think we should—"

"Silence.” Her voice cracks like a whip. “That insolent child ran away from the Sanctum. She blamed you and then fled like a common criminal." She gestures out toward the door. “You owe her no loyalty and you’d do best to forget she was ever a part of your life.” 

I open my mouth but I don’t say anything. What Light Spinner is asking is impossible. Catra has been one of my closest friends from the moment we met and I’d been in love with her once I knew what love looked like. How could any of that be buried for me? She’s the person I’d counted on long before I was chosen as She-Ra, back when I was free to dream of a future together once we graduated. 

And beyond all that I have a burning desire to know—I need to know why Catra turned her back on me, why she decided to abandon me like this. I don’t think I’ll ever know peace without it.

Light Spinner doesn’t seem interested in anything I might have to say anyway. "Catra is of no moment. You see Adora, sometimes the spirit works in mysterious ways." The look she gives me makes me feel nauseous. "Now that Catra has elucidated your weakness to me, we will successfully snuff it out. I will make sure of it."

My mouth runs dry and nerves tickle my gut again. “You still want to train me?” I thought this was the end for me here. 

Light Spinner looks at me as if I’m stupid. “You’re She-Ra.” She says it as if that should explain everything. “You have a great purpose Adora—and I will have you see it through.” 

My mind flits over the number of times Light Spinner has condemned far lesser infractions than mine with larger consequences and it makes me want to scoff. For the first time, I wonder if the blood thrumming hot in my veins is the same righteous anger that Catra had shown me time and again. 

“Does this mean I get to go back to my room?” 

She purses her lips. “I’ll come back to retrieve you later tonight. I want to give you a chance to pray and repent as you see fit before returning. Three days meditating upon these sins won’t correct your infractions but as the vessel of She-Ra, you have other ways to prove your virtuosity to me and the congregation.” Almost as quickly as she came, she walks to the door, holding it open for a second before turning back to look at me. “I will not be so lenient if you choose to disappoint me again.”

The door slams tightly behind her and I sit still as can be, the short meeting leaving me more confused than ever. 

"She's lying about Catra." I mumble to myself. Even as I say the words aloud, I can't find it in me to believe them. 

Catra looked so angry, her eyes narrowed and mean when she broke our kiss. Why would she forsake me? Abandon me? I thought—I thought she felt the way I did. I thought she understood . 

If she’s truly left I might never know any of it, and the thought alone guts me.

I hate how everyone pretends that nothing happened. Catra’s name is hardly mentioned if ever around me and more often than not I’m barely allowed to be around anyone from my life before She-Ra. 

There’s always another lesson, another reading, another sermon that needs my attention and in some ways I welcome it. Once I realized that Catra is truly gone, I thought about chasing after her but I have no idea where she went or if she’d even want to see me. 

Finding Catra in an unknown world without even the first clue of where to look would require nothing short of a miracle. I can’t leave behind everything I’ve ever known and the responsibilities I have on the off chance that I could find a person who doesn’t even want me. 

At least now, my focus is less divided—I don’t have any other attachments to sever. I miss Catra like she’s a part of me, and the feeling is rotting me from the inside out. But it’s easier to breathe when I keep my mind on anything else. 

So I attend my classes and I go through the motions, hoping that everything will hurt less. I read the holy books until my eyes are sore and bleary and then I hope that Mara will give me sleep instead of the restless nights that seem to be the norm now. 

Light Spinner is pleased with my progress, although she looks at me differently than she once did. Her gaze never softens, even when she bestows approval. Part of me thinks that if she could, she’d punish me further. I can’t tell her that I already have to live with the biggest punishment I can imagine day in and day out. 

My bed feels soft at my back after spending all day on my feet but no matter how heavy my eyelids feel, I can’t find a way to fall asleep. I twist and turn often, the sheets tangling around my legs and constricting me. 

My breath comes and goes sharply and I can feel frustration building in every corner of my body. I hate this so much. I just want to rest, I want to forget. For a few blissful moments, I want to pretend the life I’m living isn’t mine at all. 

My hands bear down on the mattress and I let out a sharp breath when I feel like I’m falling and then, I’m not in my bed at all. At least, I don’t think so.

It feels like a dream, but also not. I reach out and I can touch some of the things around me—the bark of a tree, the grass beneath my feet. But it feels less than, somehow—counterfeit. 

I'm so focused on how strange it feels that it takes me a minute to realize I know where I am. I've only been to the outskirts of the Whispering Woods once, but I'm definitely in the heart of it now. 

Something tells me to keep moving so I do. A flash catches my attention and it makes me turn. There's a light, glowing and soft just up ahead and I beeline for it. 

I'm not in control of my limbs anymore, and I'm running full sprint. Even though I can't stop I can feel the harsh cold air in my lungs and the vibration in my knees as I pound my feet on the forest floor. 

It's a sword. How can a sword glow so much? It glows the same color my eyes do, a hazy blue I've come to resent. As I step closer, it's like I have no choice—it glows brighter and I need to touch it. 

I reach out a hand and I touch the metal. It's hot and it sears my palm, but instead of yelling and pulling away like I want to, it burns hotter and I grip it tighter. 

"Adora. This is your destiny." The sound is garbled and far but it's a woman’s voice. A voice I feel like I've heard before. "Will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?"

My eyes fly open and I put my hands to my chest, as if warding them from the heat of the sword. I let my hands run over my torso and I feel normal. I look at my palms and there aren't any burns. 

I lean back, catching my breath. My back is so sweaty the sheets are stuck to it. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely stand it. 

What is that? Why did it feel so strange? It doesn't feel like any dream I've ever had. I’m not even sure I was actually asleep when it started. 

I’d almost forgotten about the vision I had, given everything else that happened, but this brought it back to the forefront. Was it a vision? I shake my head and turn over in my bed, trying to forget all of it. 

I don’t sleep for the rest of the night. As the sunlight peeks into my room I resign myself to having an early morning.

The dreams don't stop. Every night it's the same dream, just as life-like as the last. It's to the point where I barely want to try and sleep at all. 

It's never less confusing or scary to wake up disoriented and lonely, looking for burns in my hands and telling myself the pain throbbing there isn't real. It’s just a dream. As the pain starts to fade I can find it in myself to lie one more time. 

I let my breathing slow and wonder if there’s anything I can do to fall back asleep. I’m so tired—my eyes feel heavy and so does the rest of my body. I desperately need to sleep. It makes me think about something I hadn’t thought about in a long while. My hand creeps onto the top of my thigh, lingering there as I think over my options. 

I hadn’t really touched myself since I started having sex with Catra. In a lot of ways, it felt like trading one carnal sin for another—although one was much, much better than the other. It was a way to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t all that wrong. If there was someone on high with a calculator, maybe they wouldn’t notice the difference. I know it doesn’t work that way but I didn’t care.

Now Catra is gone and I can’t touch her that way I used to. My hand goes to my inner thigh, barely brushing the edge of my underwear. I think about it—I could slip my hand inside, give myself a physical release. Maybe get some real fucking sleep instead of whatever torture this is with vision ruining any chance at restfulness. 

For some reason, my heart rate picks up, but not with excitement. What if someone finds out? Worse—what if Catra finds out? We never promised not to touch ourselves, but it feels—I’m not sure anything I do to myself will hold a candle to what Catra and I did together. It makes me a little sad to think that I’ll never get to do that again. That the last kiss I had with Catra will always be this unexplained thing that landed me in solitary confinement. 

The thought of solitary confinement and the betrayal that flares up in me seals the deal. With a sigh, I pull my hand away from my thigh and instead grip my pillow tightly, letting out a groan of frustration.

I pull myself out of bed and decide that if I’m not going to be able to sleep, at least I can do something different. 

My feet know the path to our spot better than they should—I haven’t been up here in weeks. Still, the garden looks the same, the blooms unblemished by betrayal. I sit down amongst them, running my hands across the grass.

I look up at the stars and I let myself think of Catra. I wonder if she’s looking up at the night sky wherever she is. I wonder if she’s happy. If she’s safe. If she misses me even half as much as I do her. Whether she regrets leaving me behind. 

I sit up and sigh, looking around the garden. My eyes focus on the white flowers not far from me—I remember the last time Catra and I laid there, lost in a space far away from all of our obligations and reasons we shouldn’t have been there at all. 

My eyes narrow on the ground beneath the tendrils of leaves and vines—the dirt there looks like it’s been disturbed recently, a darker patch than anything else around it. I put my hand in the grass and prop myself up, making my way to get a better look.

I crouch down, my hands running over the dirt. It moves easily, like the roots haven’t had time to latch on to it yet. I don’t know what compels me to dig, but I do. I dig my fingers in the dirt and tug, the loose ground coming away easily.

I’m not sure what I expected, but I hit something solid and flat. My hands move to find the edges of whatever it is—it feels like plastic. I find a corner and pull. It doesn’t come up, the other end is stuck. It takes clearing out more of the area, but I finally can grab it.

It’s rectangular and wrapped in a black plastic bag, the edges of it tapped down. I clutch it in my hands, biting my lip as I think about whether I’m going to open whatever this is.

“What am I doing?” I mumble to myself as I look at my dirt encrusted fingers and the gaping hole I’ve left in the garden. I’m sure if I ran into someone doing this a few weeks before, I’d be sure that they’d lost their mind.

Still. The curiosity at whatever I’ve just found is a welcome distraction from what led me up here to start. I slip my finger beneath the tape, tugging until it comes off. I’m surprised when the black plastic slips away and I realize it’s a trackerpad. For some reason I was expecting it to be a book. Why would someone bury their trackerpad here? I’ve never seen anyone spend a lot of time here, save for Catra and—I quickly flip the trackerpad over, looking for a dent in the corner.

It's the same dent of Catra’s trackerpad along with some scratches her claws accidentally made on the otherwise smooth material. I turn it back toward the front, my hands shaking and my heart pounding in my chest.

This is hers. Did she want me to find it? That’s the only explanation for her to bury it here in the garden, isn’t it?

I don’t breathe as I press the power button, waiting impatiently for the screen to load up. My heart stops altogether—it's half loaded, flickering in a way that doesn’t seem good. I punch in Catra’s favorite number, and the trackerpad makes an attempt to open before freezing entirely.

“No, no.” I mutter under my breath as I watch, panicked as the screen shuts off entirely. “No!”

I press the power button again and it flickers but doesn’t load up. I run my hand over the side of the trackerpad and I realize the problem—the charging port is completely soaked through. Water must have gotten into the plastic bag that Catra wrapped her trackerpad in before she buried it. I have no clue how to undo the damage and I can’t very well take it to the on-campus tech lab to fix it without risking exposing Catra.

I squeeze the screen between my hands, helplessness overwhelming me. Maybe if I hadn’t avoided the garden since Catra left, I would have found this sooner. Maybe then, I’d have a lead as to where she went. 

But I don’t. Just another dead end.

I don’t know what I would have done if Catra asked me to leave the Sanctum with her, and now I’ll never know. Part of me thinks I would have said yes—the pull between Catra and I is so strong, if I thought it was the only way I could keep her, maybe I would have caved. But I think I would have fought hard to convince her to stay with me. I don’t know if she would have listened. 

Maybe that’s part of why she did what she did. Maybe she thought I stood a fighting chance at convincing her. Maybe she loved me. 

It’s as close to a wishful thought as I allow myself. 

I lay back on the grass and start counting stars. I can almost imagine Catra lying next to me, teasing me about being so good at history but not knowing the first thing about what stars are where. Not that she was any better at it than me.

I don’t think this is ever going to be better. I can’t trust anyone with the secret of my visions and ask if I should tell Light Spinner. I can’t sleep. I don’t know how long I’ll manage to live this way. 

I force the thought down and try my best to just think of the sky, of the little points of light that are so far away, they don’t know there’s someone staring up at them, yearning for something different.

While mourning the only real lead to Catra I’ve had, I realize that there’s another possibility I hadn’t thought of before, but that her trackerpad reminded me of—Catra’s parents. The trackerpad is good and dead, even after I tried to charge it and dry it out a few times, but I know that the registrar has parental contact information on hand. If I can get access to the records, I can call Catra’s mom and hopefully she’ll know where Catra is.

From the moment the thought crosses my mind, I latch onto it with both hands. I can’t think of much else when I’m in my classes, sitting in the back because I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I wonder if the reason I’m so focused on the possibility of finding out something about Catra is just because of how much I miss her and how worried I am, or if it has to do with the sleep deprivation too. 

I don’t decide to go to the registrar’s office so much as my feet take me there, apparently done with my obsessive thoughts. I hold the strap of my book bag tightly as I make my way through the administrative offices, careful to not make eye contact with anyone. I don’t think it really helps—I can feel the eyes on me here just the same as everywhere else since I became She-Ra. 

The employee sitting in the front desk for the registrar’s office seems friendly enough, and the space is blissfully empty. There are a few inspirational posters up by her desk, along with an emblem of Mara—the goddess’s sword on a beaded necklace.

I’m so tired I can’t even come up with a convincing lie for why I’m here. I smile at the woman, trying my best to not think about how tired I am. 

“Hi, can you help me?” 

Her eyes widen and she puts a palm out on the desk, her demeanor immediately shifting when she recognizes me. “Of course, She-Ra! Whatever you need.” 

I blink for a second—it can’t be that easy, can it?—but then I remember the task at hand. “I need contact information for a parent, if I could just use your computer for a second?” 

Her smile flickers for a moment and she glances at her computer. “I don’t—why don’t you give me the name and I can run the search?” 

I try to keep a frown off my face. It wouldn’t be good to have such an obvious connection to Catra that Light Spinner could find. “It’s private.” 

Her eyes narrow. “What is this for again?” 

I lean forward to whisper, shoving aside my nerves and some guilt. “You see, I can’t reveal it yet—the message I received. But it’s very important that I do this search.”

“Is it from Mara?”

I don’t want to outright lie so I press my lips together, waiting for her to draw the conclusion for herself. She lets out a short gasp and then turns to her computer, quickly typing something in. She gets up and gestures for me to come around. “I’ll give you a minute, She-Ra.” She taps her fingers against the side of the table. “Whatever it is, I believe in you.” 

I nod and smile at her even though her unabashed confidence makes me want to die a little inside. How could she have so much trust in me when she doesn’t know me? And clearly, that trust is misplaced. 

It doesn’t stop me from quickly typing in Catra’s name and writing down her mother’s contact information before deleting the search history. I leave quickly, not wanting to run into the woman who helped me again. I’m exhausted, and the idea of keeping up the charade and speaking with her feels impossible. I’m honestly surprised this worked at all. 

I quickly make my way to my room, taking one of the quieter hallways there. I grab my trackerpad, and unthinkingly dial the number I just found. My dad might think it's weird that I didn’t call this week, but that's fine—I'll make something up next week. Seems like all I've done since Catra left was lie and hide. 

Even though it's what I was hoping for, I'm still surprised when Catra’s mom picks up the phone. 

“Hello?” 

I wipe my palm on my pant leg. “Hi, Caia.” 

“Adora?” She's baffled, which isn’t unfair. Even though I've known Catra, and by extension her mother, since I was a kid, it’s not like I'd ever done anything like this.

“Yeah—ah, yes, ma’am.” There’s no point in putting off the inevitable. “I was wondering if you had heard from Catra recently? She hasn’t been in school.” 

I'm not sure exactly how much Caia knows, so I decide that less is more in this instance. 

There’s a long pause and for one wild moment, I wonder if Caia is going to put Catra on the call. 

“I don't know where my daughter is. And frankly, that’s none of your concern.” 

My eyebrows knit together. “Excuse me?” 

“You're She-Ra. You have larger concerns than someone who never got out of her own way. Wherever she is, she probably landed herself there like she always does.” 

I feel like I’ve been slapped. Part of me wants to curse out Catra’s mother—to defend her from the person who was often her biggest doubter. But another part of me wants to hide from this woman and her judgment. Most people I know would probably think the same thing if they knew what I was up to.

She didn't say anything Light Spinner wouldn't have said, or any of my other instructors or professors for that matter. As hard as I tried at times, I don't think I was ever able to get anyone to see Catra the way I do. 

“Understood. I won't bother you again.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her to contact me if she does hear about Catra, but I get the feeling she won’t do it regardless of what I ask. “Goodbye.”

I let myself slide to the ground, my back flush to the door of my bedroom. It's not comfortable by any means but it doesn't matter. 

Maybe everyone is right. I'm not equipped to find Catra—every lead crumbles to nothing and even if I did, what would that help? I wasn’t enough to keep her here the first time and that was before she turned her back on me. 

There’s a destiny laid before me and yet I've never felt more lost. There’s no direction for me to go in, no sense of these recurring visions I keep having. And the only thing my heart wants now is anything but holy or pure. 

I put my head in my hands pressing my fingers to my temples, the trackerpad discarded, long forgotten on the floor next to me. 

I long for sleep—more than that, for oblivion. If Mara is actually going to guide me, I hope that she finds a way to do that before I lose my mind. 

Another week without real sleep doesn’t feel possible, and yet it passes. My teachers are growing concerned—even Light Spinner has offered to give me a few days off of my lessons. Although, the way she eyes me while she says it makes me think that it’s a test I’m bound to fail if I actually take her up on it. 

I can’t fail. I’m not supposed to fail. 

I’m making my way to the library, hoping to catch up with some of the sermons that feel like they’ve been bouncing off of me, when it happens.

My eyes are wide open but I can still feel the vision playing in front of me. I can see the hallway I was in before it started, but it’s a vague outline overlaid on the vibrant whispering wood landscape. 

This has never happened before—my visions have always been limited to my dreams, except for the night I last kissed Catra.

The vision plays through the same way it always does and I hiss as my hands burn. I stumble backward for a moment, throwing my hands up, as if letting go of the hot sword.

“Adora!” I recognize Kyle’s voice but I can’t really make him out. I fall to my knees, the burn worse than it’s ever been before. “Are you okay?” I feel a hand on my shoulder and then the hallway is exactly as it was before the vision started. “You don’t look well.”

I let myself lean down until I’m sitting on the ground, my head between my knees. “I’ll be fine.” I manage to grit out. “It’s just—I’m fine.” 

I have to be fine. That’s the only way this works out—She-Ra wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t capable. If I can’t pass this test.

Kyle’s hand is heavy on my shoulder as he crouches down, worried eyes running over me. “You’re not.” He says simply and I want to hit him. That’s probably not great. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having trouble with that.” I admit it because denying that would be ridiculous at this point. There’s no way I’m telling Kyle about the visions, no matter what he saw. “And I hurt my wrist, it’s been bothering me.” Hopefully that’ll cover the way I’m grabbing my arm. 

“If you say so.” He looks almost shy for a moment before glancing away from me and dropping his hand. “I also—I wanted to apologize, but I haven’t seen you around so I’ve been putting it off.” 

“What do you want to apologize for?” I’ve barely spoken to Kyle even before Catra left. I rack my brain for what it might be but I keep drawing a blank. 

“For my part in Catra getting kicked out.” He looks down at the carpeted floor. “I mean, I’m glad you don’t have any distractions anymore but I never wanted you and Catra to get in trouble.”

I blink up at him, the confusion and fear I felt at the last few minutes quickly dissipating as I process his words. I stand up, leaning on the wall for support. “Kyle, what did you do ?” I hiss out.

He looks up at me pleadingly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

I shake my head. I can’t promise that because I already feel mad and something inside me just knows that whatever Kyle did, I’ll be pissed.

“Kyle. Talk.”

“Okay! I might have told Light Spinner about you and Catra?”

“You did what ?” 

I didn’t even know Kyle knew about us and I have no idea why he’d ruin my life like that. 

“I didn’t think she’d do anything about it! I just thought that she’d make sure you couldn’t hang out in each other’s rooms anymore.” He shrugs.

“Why would you do that?” I want to shake him. Why does he get to be with Lonnie when he practically made Catra disappear off the face of Etheria? How can he be so hypocritical?

“Adora, you’re She-ra. You’re supposed to lead us. You know that!” He points a finger at me, his face a mix of contrition and vindication. “I wanted to help you. I know Catra isn’t a bad person but she clearly was making you stray. You needed help.” A flicker of sadness runs across Kyle’s face. “I didn’t think that they’d kick Catra out.”

“They— Shadow Weaver did this?” I spit out. Now that I say it out loud, it seems obvious—of course, she must have had some hand in Catra’s disappearance. If she was able to keep me in solitary when I’m the revered vessel of a God, what wouldn’t she do to Catra?

“Light Spinner. I mean, how else could Catra have left so fast?” He looks down at his shoes. “I’m really sorry about that.”

I shove past Kyle, not caring about his apology. 

It makes so much sense now. Well, some of it—I’m not sure why Catra wasn’t apprehended the way I was, but leaving the Sanctum is unheard of. It would make much more sense for Light Spinner to have kicked Catra out. 

But then why did she come to my room and ask me where Catra went? It’s a strange ruse if it is one. Maybe she wanted to know if Catra planned on leaving? 

My heart thuds harder in my chest and I make my way to the clergy office. It could mean that Catra didn’t want to leave—that there was still some way to find her. That she could come back, if Light Spinner allowed it. Or if I went over her head and spoke to Hordak himself. 

I don’t bother to stop at all when I reach the door to Light Spinner’s office, instead opening it without a second thought as to what I’m doing. She glances up, clearly annoyed that I burst into the room. 

“Women of the cloth knock, Adora. It’s only polite.” She scolds quickly as she puts down the paper in her hand. 

“I need to know if Catra was expelled from the Sanctum.” I blurt out quickly, not letting myself lose hold of the anger and courage I feel. “Why would you tell me she left if she was expelled?” 

Light Spinner rolls her eyes. “That magicat wasn’t expelled. She left of her own volition, although I do not know when or how.” Her face tightens into a look of true disgust. “I’ve prayed over the situation and I’ve determined that Serenia did us a favor, making it so that such a rebellious soul didn’t continue to infect those around her with her troublesome nature.”

I stare down this woman that’s supposed to be my mentor. My support. I look at her eyes squinted behind her veil and I shake my head. “You’re lying.” 

“I’m insulted that you’d insinuate such a thing.” Her voice pitches up. “After I’ve taken you under my wing and nurtured you, provided you with the tools that you need to meet your destiny—how dare you come and lay the taint of sin at my feet?” 

I clamp my mouth shut as I stand in the middle of that office. “I just—Catra wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave .”

“Wake up, child! Catra betrayed you.” Light Spinner shakes her head. “When I received a report that she was involved in unsavory behavior it took no effort at all for her to tell me that you were involved. She even said that you sought her out. A preposterous notion, no doubt meant to sully your good name. I wouldn’t have believed her if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, the way she seduced you.”

“I—” All I can hear is that Catra tossed me to the wolves to save herself. “Why wouldn’t you have cast her out, then?” 

“I would have thrown her out if given half the chance, but she ran like a coward.” Light Spinner runs her hands over her temples. “If anyone assumed she was expelled because it would be an appropriate punishment for one such as her, then it’s hardly my fault.” 

The way she says it makes it seem to me like she’s pleased that people believed Catra was disgraced and expelled, and it makes sense. Then she doesn’t have to deal with the fact that she lost a student and still hasn’t managed to find her. 

My blood feels cold in my veins as I realize that Light Spinner likely isn’t lying to me—she gains nothing from admitting that Catra managed to get away from her. 

“So, she’s really gone?” I murmur almost to myself. I’ve known this all along and yet, a part of me hasn’t given up. Or at least, it hadn’t until now.

“It’s for the best.” Light Spinner gets out of her chair, walking around until she’s a few feet from me. “You need to put this behind you, Adora. I thought you were handling this better.” She reaches a hand out and grabs my chin, turning my face this way and that, as if examining me. “You look tired.” She broaches again, her eyes narrowed.

I fight the urge to move my chin so that it’s not being held by her. “I’ve been studying a lot.” 

She looks skeptical but she lets go of me. “If you’re struggling with impure thoughts perhaps you require something different.” She leans forward, and I can barely see her eyes. “Do you need more time to … pray ? Perhaps, that would provide you with the answers and clarity you seek. I can arrange for you to stay in a meditation room.”

I shake my head. The last time was only three days but it was more than enough for me to know that it’s awful. The chance of my visions being discovered there are also way higher.

“No, no. I understand. I’m sorry for interrupting your day.” I back away until I’m by the threshold of her door. “I didn’t mean to suggest inappropriate things.” 

Even as the words leave my mouth, she knows that now I’m the liar. As much as it seems almost a certainty now that Catra betrayed me, I’ve lost all trust in Light Spinner. It almost makes me sad—there was a time where I never would have believed that a clergy member would do anything but what was moral and just. A time when I had an unshakeable faith I was proud of. Now, it feels like my faith in the clergy is crumbling in my hands and I have no way of holding it together. 

Even so, I have Mara and I have Prime and I know that there’s no way I could ever lose faith in them. 

I wonder if I’ll ever get used to the feeling of seeing something that’s not there with my eyes open. Immediately, I can tell this vision is different from the others. It feels more solid—I can’t see my room or anything except the world I’m immersed in. The only reason why I know I’m not there is because I can still feel my sheets clutched in my hands.

I recognize Mara the moment I see her—how could I not, when she’s been everywhere my whole life? She looks different than she usually does. She’s shorter and her hair is darker as she moves amongst the trees. She grabs the sword in front of her and she points it up into the sky—a blast of light comes from it and envelops her. 

I stare in awe as Mara becomes who I know her to be. She-Ra. She shakes her long hair and it looks like gravity doesn’t affect it. It must be so nice to have hair like that. 

I let out a sharp gasp as I feel myself move so fast my stomach drops. It’s like I teleported, although that’s impossible. I’m in a different place, somewhere in the Whispering Woods again. It looks like the area where I keep finding the sword. 

Sure enough, there it is. The sword gleams in the sunlight, vines wrapped around the blade as it stands upright. I can’t walk towards it—I can’t move at all in these visions, not in any way that would make a difference. 

I stare as I fall further and further away—higher. I realize that I’m overlooking the clearing where the sword is. I can see a First Ones ruin in the background and I can tell it isn’t far from Festal Gorge.

Then everything is dark. My blood rushes through my ears—for one wild moment, I think I’m blind. I try to slow my breath as my eyes slowly adjust to the soft lightning in my room, so different from the vivid imagery in the vision. 

I don’t move right away as my mind rushes to make sense of this vision. It gave me something none of the others had—a real location. The Whispering Woods are massive, but this clearing isn’t that deep in the woods. I do the math in my head—it should probably take me an hour to get there on foot. 

I clench the sheets in my hand as indecision tears through me. Am I really considering sneaking out into the Whispering Woods right now? That’s insane. There’s no way that I’m going to go into that clearing and there’s actually going to be a sword there. 

But then again, the visions keep getting stronger and I am She-Ra. Aren’t I supposed to have some special connection with Mara? Isn’t this my destiny? 

It would mean breaking so many rules to just go off campus now. I bite my lip. I’ve run out of options—I can’t come clean about my visions now and I don’t want to. Shadow Weaver would never believe me anyway. 

Some rules are worth breaking anyway. 

I lace up my shoes, my resolve strengthening—this is the first thing that feels right in a long time. Whether there’s something out there or not, I can’t stand another sleepless night not knowing. 

Getting dressed is the easy part—finding my way off campus is a different story. I’ve snuck out of my room and even out of my building plenty, but I know that campus security tends to turn a bit of a blind eye toward that kind of thing. Off campus is different. 

I make it out of my building with little fuss and I stick to the shadows of the other dormitories, keeping alert for anyone that could be out here. It takes forever with my heart pounding in her ears and every little noise catching my attention, but I make it toward the outer edge of the Sanctum. It’s only another hundred feet and I’ll be right on the edge of the Whispering Woods. 

“Adora.”

I freeze, my whole body screaming at me. I don’t know what I’m going to say as I stare at Lonnie. She crosses her arms and her new Class Officer pin glints in the night. I guess she got that promotion after all. 

“Lonnie.” 

“You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

I swallow, my lips dry. “I do. But could you just—what if I wasn’t here?” 

Lonnie lets out a loud scoff. “Are you kidding me? You’re She-Ra.” 

I hear so much in those two words. 

You’re supposed to know better.

You’re supposed to do better.

You’re supposed to be better. 

“Maybe, I’m Adora too.” I mumble so quiet I’m not sure if she hears me. 

I can tell that she does though. Her eyes widen for a moment and she looks at me for what feels like the first time. She lets out a loud sigh. 

“Fine. But be quick about it!” 

My jaw drops and I stare at Lonnie. “Really?” 

She rolls her eyes. “Before I change my mind.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Where are you going anyway?” 

“I—I’m not sure it’s safe to tell you. For you.” I quickly clarify. I don’t want Lonnie to get in trouble for me. 

Lonnie shakes her head quickly. “I should have known better than to ask. Stay safe, Adora.” With that, she goes in the opposite direction, continuing her patrol. 

I make it past the first few trees before I take off in a run, the Sanctum lights gone before I catch my breath.

Chapter Text

The thing no one ever says about the Whispering Woods is all the trees look the same. Maybe that’s just me. I think I’ve been out here for at least two hours and I’m almost positive I’ve passed the same clearing four times. 

“Mara, it’d be great if the visions came with a map.” I mutter under my breath as I take what I hope is a different direction from before. I don’t get the sense that what I’m looking for is too far away from the Festal Gorge but maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have barged into the middle of the woods on an hour of sleep and a hallucination. 

I groan as I think I end up in the same clearing again . “I’m not going in circles!” I walk through the clearing, determined to not turn at all this time. “This is ridiculous.” 

This is probably so dumb. Colossally stupid. For all I know, I’m hallucinating because of lack of sleep. That’s a thing right? I felt so certain when I had that last vision but now I can’t help but think that I’ve made a terrible mistake. When I go back Mara knows what all is going to happen to me. 

I gasp when I see something shining ahead. I quicken my pace, avoiding brushing against the branches and bushes that are in my way as I head toward the light in the sky. It definitely wasn’t there before. 

The building is absurdly tall, a glowing blow light running through deep grooves on the front of the angled walls. When I get close I can hardly see the top, the light shooting out of it making clouds visible in the sky. It reminds me of the tower back home. 

The doors are twice as big as the church doors I’m used to seeing and I don’t think I can push them open even if I want to. I imagine this has to be deserted—who would be out here, especially this time of night? 

I look around and I don’t see the sword anywhere either. I push away some of the roots that are growing around the base of the door before brushing my hand against the front of it. Nothing happens. I push as hard as I can and again, nothing. 

“Come on.” I start running my hands over the door looking for a latch or something. Even with the light emanating from the building like some kind of beacon, it’s still pretty hard to see. 

There’s nothing obvious but I’m not turning back now. Not when the building from my visions is actually here, even if the sword isn’t yet. It’s the first time I feel like maybe I haven’t gone completely off kilter since I started having visions. 

I don’t know what I stumble on but suddenly the whole door lights up, and they part, hissing as they open wide. It’s dark inside some faint light coming from the next room over. I take a deep breath and step in, making my way toward the light. 

I don’t know what I’m looking for now so I just look around for something, anything that’ll clue me into what I’m supposed to do. That’s when my eyes catch it—a She-Ra engraving. It doesn’t look exactly like Mara—the image is geometric and colorless—but the sword and the headpiece are a dead giveaway. 

The image is up on a platform. I take a few steps before something bright appears in front of me. I block my eyes from the light for a second before dropping my face. 

The hologram is a tall woman, her face severe but blank. She’s staring at me head on, but it’s like I’m not there. It’s as if she sees right through me. After a good half minute, she blinks. Her facial expressions all seem off somehow, like someone who’s trying to remember how to be a person.

Her head tilts lightly, her image flickering in and out. “Greetings, Adora. You’ve come at last.” 

I furrow my brow—what? “I uh—at last? How do you know my name? Who are you?” 

“I am Light Hope, Etheria’s facilitator. I was created by the First Ones.” I breathe in sharply, eyes wide. It’s been so long since the First Ones were here, it’s unheard of to find working First One’s tech. Especially a hologram like this. She barely pauses as she flickers again. “And you are a direct descendant of the First Ones, She-Ra to Etheria. You are chosen, Adora. You are uniquely qualified for the task that lies before you.”

I take a step back, staring at Light Hope. I still can’t believe she just knew my name and that I’m She-Ra, just by looking at me. “And what is that?”

“To rebuild. It is your destiny to lead Etheria into an age of enlightenment. And your first mission is to rebuild the Sword of Protection.”

I’m at a loss at that. “Mara’s sword? But I had a vision. A vision of it here in the Whispering Woods.” I explain, feeling helpless. It doesn’t make sense—the building was real but the sword wasn’t?

Light Hope frowns for a moment—it almost looks like her hologram is glitching. “This used to be the home of the sword but it has been missing since Mara’s time.”

I blink up at her. The Sword of Protection was missing from its rightful place? I guess it makes sense since it’s never turned up for so long, but I’ve never thought of it as being something that’s mine.

“Why do I need a sword anyway? If I’m to lead everyone to enlightenment why would I need a weapon.” I don’t want to fight—not if I can help it anyway. And something about the sword felt more substantial. It was kind of scary.

She frowns even deeper. “The weapon will help you access the full powers of She-Ra. Whatever you can access now is a pittance in comparison to your full power with the sword.”

“Okay … what would I have to do?”

“We will begin training immediately, here at the Crystal Palace. After a year, I’m certain you will have the knowledge you’ll need to rebuild the sword.”

“A year? That’s—that’s a long time.” I can’t stay in this abandoned building for a year with only a hologram as company. 

“Building the sword is a momentous task. It will take time.”

I shake my head. “But I have to go to school. And I have friends.” The words burn in my mouth—do I even have friends anymore? I’ve never felt more alone than I do now.

“None of that outweighs your duty, She-Ra.” Light Hope looks at her steadily. "Will you fight for the honor of Grayskull?" 

The phrase pulls me out of my racing thoughts. It’s the words from the dream. I have to be on the right path—there's nothing left for me back in the sanctum, now that Catra is gone. Maybe I can start anew here.

Still my hands waver as I look at Light Hope, her eyes glued on me as she waits. I remember the burns in my dreams and it makes me queasy. 

"Are you sure I can’t just—train some of the time and still go to school?” I try. Leaving everything behind seems like so much. I already feel like I’ve lost everything—my sleep, my faith, my closest friend—giving up the rest of it feels impossible. Even if it isn’t much. 

Light Hope’s face does not change as she shakes her head. "You need to let go of your attachments if you are to be successful."

I blink, somehow surprised even though I probably shouldn’t be. "What do you mean?" 

"These worldly things that keep you from reaching your true potential, Adora." 

I feel my stomach clench. "You mean—you mean my relationships. My friends." It’s what it always means.

"Yes." She says it like it's obvious. And maybe it is—it’s certainly not the first time I’ve heard it. 

But it feels so wrong, it hits differently than it has before. I feel angry—angry at all of the people who have told me to let go, angry at myself for not seeing earlier just how awful this isolation is, angry at Catra for leaving me behind, angry at She-Ra for choosing me at all. 

It’s so miserable and endless. Why do I have to give up everything that makes me Adora to become She-Ra? Why am I expected to not need any of the things that everyone else does? I can’t just wake up one day without needs, or wants, or attachments. I can’t do it, and I don’t even want to. 

"No. Fuck this." The word tastes dirty in my mouth but I don't care. "Everyone tries to take what I love from me. I'm not—there's nothing wrong with me for caring about people."

I remember one searing kiss in particular—when Catra stared me down, demanded to know if anything we did together felt wrong.

There's nothing wrong with me for loving Catra.

Light Hope looks far from sympathetic, her eyes vacant. “You have no choice.” 

I shake my head, tears in the corner of my eyes. Why am I not allowed to choose? It’s not fair. I never asked for any of this, for power or for people to rely on me. All I wanted was to get my history degree. Maybe one day, if I had the courage, I’d confess my feelings to Catra and we could be together the way I wanted. 

“I—I need to think. I’ll be back.” I push the promise out through my lips and all but run outside of the Crystal Castle. 

I pace near it, just letting hot tears run down my face. After a few minutes I stop crying but I feel no better—no, now I can feel my throat closing up on me. I try to take a deep breath but it feels like I can’t get enough air no matter what I do. I lean my back against a tree, feeling like everything is closing in and crashing on me. 

It’s stupid. I’m stupid. I knew I was She-Ra and exactly what that meant, but it feels like I’m learning it all over again. Where did I think I’d end up? It feels like if I go back in there, I will seal my fate. I’ll be who everyone wants me to be—everything I’m meant to be. But every part of me wants to fight it. 

I get back on my feet, finally about to take a few deep breaths. I’m suddenly hit with anger again, only this time it feels like it's going to burst from my skin. I turn around and I cock my fist at the nearest tree, punching it as hard as I can. 

Immediately, my hand throbs with pain and I hiss. “Ahh!” I yelp, pulling my hand close to my chest. It feels like it has its own heartbeat, blood rushing into it. By the time I look at it, I can barely move my fingers from the pain. 

I gingerly touch the knuckles and it's a mistake. I stare at my hand, cursing every decision I’ve made that’s led me here. I shouldn’t have spoken to Light Hope, shouldn’t have gone into the Crystal Palace, I shouldn’t have come into the Whispering Woods at all. 

I shouldn’t have gone to church that day and heard Catra sing. Maybe that’s why She-Ra picked me—to punish me. Because that day when I was listening to her, I wasn’t thinking of Mara or Prime. I was just in awe of her, like she was lifting my very soul out of my chest with her voice.

I’m distracted by my swirling thoughts when I see my hands glow a deep golden color. It makes my hand hurt and it’s warm, as if I was holding it over a campfire. Then it’s gone, only the bluish hue of the Crystal Palace lighting the night. 

I stare and flex my hand. It doesn’t hurt anymore. 

I don't know what I'm going to do—there's nowhere to go and everything I've left behind isn't mine anymore. Nothing feels mine. 

Every time I think about heading back to the Sanctum, I feel like I can’t. I need to see this through and figure out what’s happening but accepting Light Hope’s call to stay at the Crystal Castle doesn’t seem like it would get me any closer to answers. Because clearly, something is still happening to me after my hand magically fixed itself. 

The problem is, I don’t know what’s next. Walking feels aimless but it's all I have to do. I've never had so little to do before. So I walk, until my feet blister and I don't recognize anything around me. 

It's stupid to do it—I don't know the first thing about being out in the Whispering Woods. But it doesn't stop me from doing it anyway. I can almost imagine Catra’s voice— you're going to get yourself killed, dumbass. It almost makes me smile for the first time since I left the Sanctum. 

“Mara, dearie.”

I blink as I notice a cottage I’m almost positive was not there just a second ago and in front of it is a little old lady, her eyes huge behind her glasses. 

“Uh—I’m Adora. Do you live out here?” I didn’t know anyone could live in the Whispering Woods but what else would she be doing out here in the dead of night? 

“Silly Mara, you know where I live.” She shakes her head and I notice she’s holding a broom of all things. “We need to make that blueberry pie now. I’ve been waiting.” 

Well, she’s out of it. I step back, wondering how rude it would be to just walk away. “You know, I think I need to get home.” 

I fumble over a root and fall backwards, and the old lady laughs at me. 

“Oh, dearie. If Razz doesn’t show you the temple, how will you ever get home?” 

I raise an eyebrow, not sure if I believe her. “What temple?” 

“She-Ra’s temple, of course.” She wacks my arm with the broom. “Now get up, blueberries don’t pick themselves.” 

I do as I’m told, now following Razz as shock runs through me. Why would she talk about She-Ra to me? It must be a sign, right?  

“You know where there’s a temple?” 

The broom swings again and I duck. “Bah! Of course! We were there just yesterday, Mara.” 

My brow furrows—I think she thinks I’m Mara? Honestly, her response is not any more helpful than any of the other things she’s said up to now, but it’s the best lead I have at the moment. 

Worst case, it’s another dead end—as strange as Razz seems, I also think she’s harmless. Minus the broom.

She doesn’t even bother to look back and check if I’m following, instead walking way faster than any old lady has a right to, making her way through thick underbrush and trees. I do my best to keep up, but it’s honestly hard. I forgot to ask about the cottage, but it’s long gone now and in just a few minutes we’re in a different clearing. 

At first, I think it might be the Crystal Castle, but even from a distance I can tell this building is way smaller, the overgrowth on the walls more pronounced than where I’d met Light Hope. The shape is also different and there seems to be a large mural on the face of it. 

I realize, it kind of looks like me. Well, not me but She-ra, like the image in the Crystal Castle but more detailed. The eyes in the carving glow a familiar blue and the face has distinctly First One features. 

I can’t believe this batty old lady actually knew where to find a She-Ra temple. I glance over at her and she’s not looking at me at all, instead inspecting some bushes on the edge of the clearing, muttering to herself about time. 

I walk closer to the building, although I feel more wary this time. It’s a weird sense of deja-vu, walking into a weird abandoned building in the middle of the woods for the second time in one day. 

The door opens up without me even touching anything. I linger at the threshold for a second, trying to peer inside. It’s dark and I can’t really see much. I take a deep breath and shake off my uncertainty. I’ve come this far and I’m not going to stop now. 

It reminds me of sometimes when Catra and I were young and we’d play hide and seek. I can barely make out anything but I keep moving forward, ignoring the nerves coiling in my gut. 

I bump into the edge of something—a desk or a dais? And I stop, my hands traveling the edge of it. 

“What—?” I cover my eyes as a blue light comes on. When I look, I realize it’s another hologram, only this time it looks like a recording. 

It's Mara—I can't believe it. She looks like every image we’ve made of her—dark hair and eyes, strong eyebrows that were usually determined. This must be what I was meant to find. 

“I am Mara, a First One, and I was chosen as She-Ra’s vessel when I arrived on Etheria. I didn’t know everything that would mean at the time.” She leans against a wall in the hologram, sliding down. She looks absolutely spent.

Even with how downtrodden Mara looks, I feel vindicated. So, Prime was right—She-Ra does exist and it was Mara. She had been chosen and she was a First One. I feel a swell of almost victory at that—it isn’t a lie. We are right about the most important thing. 

But the hologram doesn’t stop where Prime said it did in his vision. My stomach twinges as I watch. 

Mara is unsteady on her feet, her forehead covered in sweat or blood from the looks of it as she looks over at the recording device.

“I think … I think I got rid of She-ra. But just in case there’s another one—this message is for you.” I know Mara can’t look at me, I know it’s a hologram, but it still looks like she’s piercing my soul with her stare. She winces, her pain clear as continues to grab her side. “I destroyed the sword. Hopefully with no tether to a First One, the spirit will return to Etheria as intended. If not—know that the First Ones are wrong.”

Mara takes a shuddering breath, her image flickering in and out. “I spent so long fighting on the wrong side of this war. I thought I was doing the right thing but I know better now.” There are tears streaming down her face. 

I can’t—Mara isn’t meant to cry like this. She’s She-Ra. She won the war for the First Ones and she was proud to have done it. She’s supposed to be sure and wise, infallible. She hardly looks it now.

The hologram keeps going, Mara’s expression lost and in pain. “I lost sight of what was important—of who my friends were and what grounded me here.” She bites her lips, eyes looking distant. “Maybe Serenia is still here and I can—” She coughs, her hand covering her mouth. When she pulls back her hand there’s liquid on it—blood. Mara’s eyes focus on it for a minute before turning her attention back to where Adora is standing. “It’s too late for me. But you can do better. Don’t let the First Ones—don’t let them get a new sword or trap She-Ra again. It was never meant for them. If She-Ra picked you, I hope that it was for a good reason. I hope you do better than I did.” 

Her eyes glaze over and she slumps even further into the wall. “I can’t believe I’m going to die in this damn temple.” She takes another labored breath. “If someone else finds this—tell Serenia they were right. About everything.” Mara’s boot flies forward into the camera and the hologram cuts off, likely to die alone.

I blink as my eyes adjust to the renewed darkness of the temple. That isn’t at all what Prime said happened—and the beginning is just like what Prime said came to him in a vision. But a vision isn’t a hologram, not at all. Anyone could have seen this hologram if they’d found it. Why would Mara send Prime a vision of something she’d already recorded before she died? Why would she leave out everything of importance?

Unless it was all a lie. My head starts pounding as the information sinks in. Almost everything I’d been raised to believe was contradicted in that three minute hologram. How could it be that simple, to destroy everything I’d ever known?

A part of me wishes I hadn’t seen that. I obviously can’t go back to Light Hope now to do exactly what Mara warned me against—but then again, if everything I know is a lie, then should I even care about Mara’s words? For all I know, she’s not right either. 

At the same time, I can’t help but feel like I should believe her. Why would she spend her final moments on a lie? She died alone, desperate to get this message out to the next She-Ra. To me.

And I can’t even begin to wrap my head around Serenia . Serenia, who was supposed to be Mara’s biggest enemy, the person she fought against and defeated on behalf of the First Ones. She said Serenia was right and she looked so lost without them. It made my chest tighten—I know all about being lost that way. 

Like the rest of this night, I have even more questions than answers. All I know is that I can’t go back to the Sanctum now. I can’t stand the thought of it now. 

I carefully trudge outside, squinting at the moonlight for a moment. Razz is still there and somehow I’m glad to see her. To see someone that I don’t think is trying to influence and manipulate me. 

“Razz.” 

Her eyes are knowing. “Did you find what you were looking for?” 

“I think so.” I shrug. “Not sure if it helped.”

Razz rolls her eyes. “Of course it did not help. It was what you were looking for, not what you needed.” She frowns looking around. “I still haven’t found sugar.” She mutters absentmindedly.

I snort at trying to find sugar in the woods. “How do I know what I need, then?” 

“Love is a strength, Mara. If you love someone, you should find them.” Razz’s eyes glint knowingly even though I’m pretty sure she’s not talking about Catra. My thoughts jump to her either way. “Serenia would probably be happy to see you.”

I put aside the implication about Mara and Serenia for a moment and instead think of my situation. I’m not sure that Catra would be happy to see me now. I’m not sure I’d be happy to see her now. I’m not sure of anything when it comes to her. 

“I don’t know, Razz.” I take a deep breath. Some part of me can feel that there’s magic here—old and undisturbed, much like the entirety of the Whispering Woods. “I need to stop being so afraid.”

I’m terrified that even if I did find Catra, it won’t be everything I hope. I don’t understand why she was let go, if she betrayed me or if something else happened. Either way, I know she doesn’t love me.

But I do know I love her. My body burns with it and sometimes it’s so strong it feels like a vision all of its own. And not knowing where Catra is, if she’s alive and well or if something happened to her—I need to know either way. 

“Fear isn’t the worst thing in the world, dearie. But you can’t let it be louder than your heart.”

If I listen to my heart, the choice is obvious. I’d leave behind everything in whatever small hope there is that I can find Catra. Regardless of what she might have done, it’s eclipsed by how worried I am.

“I guess I’m off to Bright Moon then.” The words fly out of my mouth before it’s a fully formed thought. 

It makes sense, though. At the beginning, when Catra started hanging out with the people from outside Festal Gorge, she mentioned they were from Bright Moon. It’s the nearest big city and from what Catra says it has a university.

I can find someone at the school, some historians who could help me figure out what’s true and what isn’t. I can look for answers. And I can start looking for Catra.

Razz nods like that’s what she expected and starts to walk again with her unnatural speed.

“Um, can you tell me what direction Bright Moon is in?” She honestly has no clue where she is and she isn’t sure she ever did to start. 

“You ask the wrong questions.” She huffs without taking even half a beat. 

I decide to follow her because it seems better than being lost in the Whispering Woods on my own. It’ll probably be obvious soon where she’s going—her cottage is close but getting out of these woods might take all night.

But somehow, it can’t be more than five minutes of walking before we are at the edge of the woods. I can see the tower that I’ve known my whole life in the distance in one direction, and a huge building with a moonstone atop it in the other. In the direction I know Bright Moon should be in. 

It makes absolutely no sense.

“We weren’t this close before.” I know I got lost plenty tonight, but I walked for hours into the heart of the woods. There’s no way we managed to get out that fast.

“Oh Adora, silly. We took a shortcut.” My eyes widen as I hear Razz say my name. I never told her that. She reaches a hand out, wrinkled like leather that’s been out in the sun for too long. It’s warm where her hand wraps around my arm. “Don’t forget who you are.” She pats it absently twice, before she turns around and heads back into the Whispering Woods. “Bye, Mara.”

I stare after Razz, and part of me already knows I’m going to think about her often. 

I look over at the tower resting in the heart of Festal Gorge and I don’t know how I feel. Part of me is angry as I look at it, knowing that I wasn’t told the truth. Yet another part of me is nostalgic—I remember being young, chasing after Catra on the side walks outside before we went inside. I remember the joy and safety I felt within those walls. I get the feeling I never will again, even if I do go back. 

I look away, instead glancing over at the tall buildings in the distance, a place I’ve never really wanted to go. I sigh, my feet hurting as I find an unpaved road a little bit further away from the Whispering Woods. 

It’s going to be a long walk. 

I end up taking a nap up against a tree sometime in the middle of the night when I can’t stay up any longer, but once the daymoon breaks I’m within the Bright Moon city limits. 

Everything looks so different. No one is wearing a veil for one, and I haven’t seen a single clergy member as I’ve made my way deeper into the city. There are no robes, instead people seem to be wearing many two piece outfits or dresses that expose more of their skin than I’m used to. 

One thing is the same as the Festal Gorge though—people look at me weirdly. I imagine I look terrible given, well, everything . I’d kill for a shower and a place to sleep but I don’t know how I’d go about finding that here. 

I haven’t thought that far ahead. Instead, I stop the first passerby that looks friendly enough, an older man who smiles at me as I wave him down. 

“Excuse me,” I clear my throat. “I’m looking for historians.” 

I get an odd look from the man but he shrugs, seemingly not willing to ask more. “You’ll probably want to go to Bright Moon University. You can find the campus directory somewhere down this road. You can’t miss it.”

He points to a main road and farther up it, I see some gates. I nod, thanking him before trudging the way he pointed. 

There’s a big sign in the front of the gates highlighting the university name, much like the Sanctum has. There’s a few buildings, but there's one in particular that has a lot of people bustling in and out. I ignore the stares as I walk inside. 

There’s what looks like food shops and some people listening to some thumping music, the singer talking so quickly I can’t understand what he’s saying. I’m not sure why he’s talking instead of singing but the people listening seem to like it.

There’s a big sign over one of the doors that reads Admissions and I go there. I figure they’d know how to help me. 

There’s a girl standing at the front desk with long blond hair, a serene smile on her face. I don’t know how someone can look that relaxed while working, but she’s the first person that doesn’t give me a weird look. 

“Hi, I—um, need some help.” 

She nods. “Of course. Are you looking to enroll here at BMU?” 

“No. I’m looking to talk to a historian?” My hand twitches at my side.  

“That’s not really my major …” The girl purses her lips as if thinking. “What kind of historian?”

“A theological historian, I guess?” I hadn’t really thought there could be any other kind. 

Her expression clears. “Okay then you’ll probably want Lance or George, they’re really sweet guys if—wait, Bow!” The girl helping me calls excitedly to someone standing behind me. “This girl is looking for your dads.” 

“Hey Perfuma!” He calls out. I watch as a guy walks up to me, a bright smile on his face. I’m not sure why, but his name sounds familiar. He stretches his hand out to me. “Hi, I’m Bow. What do you need to talk to my dads about?”

“Your dads are historians?” He gives a quick nod. “Do they know stuff about Mara and the First Ones?” Another quick nod. I feel relief sweep through me. “Great! That’s great. See, I’m from the Sanctum, and I was—” I nervously grab the back of my neck. “I’d been proclaimed as She-Ra. Because my eyes glowed at church one day.” It sounds a little ridiculous now as this man stares at me. I talk faster. “Which, I’m not saying I am She-Ra but they all thought that. About me. Heh. So you know, when they were all ‘Adora, child rise for you are She–Ra,’ I had to—”

"Wait! You're Adora?" He sounds so excited to see me suddenly, recognition dawning on his face. It feels weird for him to know me when I have no idea who he is. Maybe he's from Festal Gorge, how else would he know my name? 

"I'm not going back to the Sanctum." I look around, trying to see if  I'll have to make a break for it after just getting to Bright Moon. "You can't make me go back." I'm embarrassed to find tears in my voice. 

His brown eyes widen as he shakes his head, waving his arms emphatically. "No one is going to make you go back. I just meant—you're Catra's Adora, aren't you?" 

My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth so I can't find it in me to reply. I am Catra's Adora, will always be Catra's Adora, but I still get butterflies when he says it. And it still hurts. Once I do find words, there are way too many, the words spewing out of me, powered by nerves alone.

“I—yeah, I mean but also no? We never really belong to each other in that way, it’s not really allowed in the Sanctum.” I take a quick breath. “I mean, it is but you have to finish your studies and be faithful to Mara and Prime and then once you're settled you can get married and then you can have you know—you can belong together that way. But, Catra and I, we looked out for each other for a long time and—” I think about saying something more, but I can’t shake the feeling that I could get in trouble. “—we were close. So, yeah I guess I could be Catra’s Adora.”

Another thought strikes me like lightning, one I should have had before if I hadn’t been distracted by Bow’s question. "Wait, you know Catra?" It's the only question I can ask. We can be mad and fight or never speak to each other again, but if she's here, if this guy knows her, it means she's alive. Catra made it out to Bright Moon, like she wanted.

"Yeah! She's been looking for you. She's tried to send you messages but everything’s been returned.”

I feel my jaw drop. That seems impossible. “She’s—she wants to see me?” It doesn’t square with the last time we saw each other. 

He nods quickly. “Yeah. I can take her to you right now.” He pulls back a little, his eyes wandering my face before he makes a face. He almost looks worried. “We can get you some food and some other clothes.” His eyes cut to my robes, and I realize my once white robes are a dishwater gray now with holes in multiple spots, I’m guessing from tree branches and rocks.

“I—please take me to Catra?” The idea of being clean and fed is inviting, but I don’t need those things more than I need to see Catra. 

He must see something on my face, because he smiles kindly at me. “Of course. She’s going to be so happy to see you.” 

Even though Bow sounds confident, I really doubt it. Still, even though my hands are clammy and I have a knot in my stomach, I feel my chest loosen. The relief that Catra is alive and the nerves I feel at seeing her again seem to be battling for dominance and I have no clue how I’ll feel once I finally face her.

Chapter Text

Glimmer’s house is huge. I’ve told her that at least once a day since I came to stay here and she’s been sick of hearing it since. But this is the perfect example. They have about half a dozen rooms just dedicated to “hobbies.”

Like the one I’m in now. Really it’s just a library but who the hell has one of those in their house ?

I’m sitting in a large leather chair just below the window with my legs curled up underneath me and the day moon is streaming through the window in a way that I know once would’ve meant I could hear it sing. 

But I don’t hear the day moon sing anymore. I still listen for it, and sometimes I think I can almost remember how the song goes, but not today. Today, I’m just trying to enjoy the warmth. 

I hear shuffling down the hall and burrow further into my seat. 

I’m not exactly hiding, but I don’t really want to be found either. I was up late reading this book Glimmer recommended, and I’m still… not right. 

It was a good book, probably one of the best I’ve read, but it was… unsettling. 

It was a romance, sort of. And in the final chapter, the protagonist, after realizing that she was working with the bad guys, sacrificed her own life rather than take the life of her enemy - the woman she was finally willing to admit she loved. 

It was hard not to draw parallels. 

I don’t think what I did was wrong. Adora turned me in first. But… sometimes I wonder what that says about me. I mean, screw being the bigger person. I couldn’t care less about that. But I love–loved her. And I threw her to the wolves.

And I hated her.

Maybe I just never learned how to love right. 

Or, maybe I was raised in an institution that valued piety and conformity over actual love for others and when I saw Adora put that principle into practice, I was scared. And angry. And hurt. And maybe that betrayal still hurts because I always knew in my heart that they were wrong about that.

“Catra!” 

I lift my head and the door swings open. It hits the wall hard and I wince. 

“Mara, Sparkles! What the hell–”

“It’s Adora.”

I freeze. “What?”

Glimmer is out of breath but she’s across the room in an instant and grabbing my hands to pull me to my feet. “Get off your ass! It’s Adora!”

I rise but I can’t keep my claws from lightly scratching Glimmer’s wrists. “Wha–she’s here?”

Glimmer nods. “She’s in the foyer. Bow said she’s been looking for you.”

My mouth pops open with a shaky breath. And then I dart past Glimmer and I run.

She can’t catch up with me after that. 

I turn down the hall and, just like I always did when I was young, and have wanted to do since I got here, I hop on the banister at the top of the stairs and slide down. 

“Catra!” Glimmer shouts, in that voice she uses when she’s annoyed.

But I don’t stop, and in seconds I’m standing at the edge of the foyer.

And she’s right there. 

Bow is talking to her and she’s nodding along as he speaks. She hasn’t noticed me yet, but that’s alright. Because now I can just… look at her. 

She looks terrible - like she’s been lost in the woods for a month. Her ponytail is hanging by a thread, there are bags under her eyes, and the way she’s almost hunched, like she hates that Bow can see her. 

She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I want to ask her if she got my messages and why she didn’t answer them. I wanna ask why she’s here. I wanna ask why she told Shadow Weaver about us and I want—no, need to know if she ever loved me the way I thought she did.

And if she did, what changed? 

But she looks up and meets my gaze before I can. She looks up and I see her glossy and beautiful gray-blue eyes and all the questions just kind of dissolve. 

She blinks once, twice, and then her entire expression changes. 

It’s like she shatters.

She takes a step toward me, but immediately falls to her knees. Tears start down her cheeks and she whispers my name like a prayer. 

“Catra?”

I don’t hesitate. I step forward. From this angle it almost looks like she’s praying to me. I don’t like it.

I drop to my knees in front of her and when our gazes lock I smile. “Hey, Adora.”

And there it is. Her face breaks into a wide and bright grin. It’s the smile I fell in love with. The smile I thought I’d never see again.

I’m so glad that’s not true.

Slowly, I hold out my hand. I reach for hers and she lets me take it. 

I still feel that feeling, the one that for just a second I was convinced might be bad. But it’s not. It’s good. Even if Adora doesn’t love me, even if she betrayed me for the Shadow Weaver, this feeling is good.

And she’s here now. That has to mean something.

“I missed you,” she whispers, and before I can respond she pulls me forward and wraps her arms around me. She buries her face in my neck and holds me so close I feel like we might meld together. “So much.”

I wrap my arms around her and let the tips of my nails prick her skin. “I missed you too.”

We don’t say we’re sorry. But I don’t need her to be sorry right now. She’s here. 

My eyes are closed but I can feel the warmth and when I hear Glimmer and Bow’s quiet gasps, I know she’s glowing. 

I smile, and I think I can hear singing. 

Chapter Text

Life in Bright Moon is strange to start. I realize rather quickly that I’m so lucky I found Bow almost immediately after arriving there—I have no idea about how anything here works but Bow’s family took me in with no question. I’m stricken by how kind they are. 

I’ve spent a lot of time in the room they gave me but other times, I hang out in the living room, if only for a change of scenery.

“Hey!” Bow always looks happy to see me, like I’m his friend already. I don’t really get it. He and Glimmer, who trails behind him now, live in the dorms at BMU but they’re here often. 

“Hi guys.” For a minute I struggle to find something else to say. “Um, how was your day?” 

I’m not sure if being in Bright Moon has made me a worse conversationalist but it’s never been this hard to come up with things to say before. I think part of it is the expectations. I’m not sure what I should say or who I’m supposed to be here.

Bow doesn’t seem to notice. “Good! My dads were hoping to meet tomorrow, so you could ask them questions if you want?” 

I nod quickly. As nice as Lance and George have been to me, we’ve hardly spoken about history. “Yeah, that would be great.” I thought that the moment I got to Bright Moon I’d get my questions answered but I didn’t realize just how tired I was. I feel a little guilty for detouring even these three days since I arrived at Bright Moon.

“Cool, cool.” He eyes Glimmer for a second before taking a few steps closer to me. “How are you settling in?” 

“Everything is good.” I try my best to sound grateful, because I am. The truth is, I haven’t had the first real thought about adjusting. Every morning feels fake, like I’m waking up inside of a vision that hasn’t ended yet. It’s hard to think of it as settling. I glance over at Glimmer, then back at Bow. “Thanks again. For letting me stay here and stuff.” 

Glimmer waves her hand. “It’s not a huge deal.” 

That’s dumb—it obviously is a big deal. I’m going to protest when I notice a look between Bow and Glimmer. 

Bow tilts his head. “You’ve been sleeping. A lot .” He eyes me curiously and it makes my skin prick. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine, I just need sleep.” 

It doesn’t feel like as much of a lie when I say I’m fine. That’s something, I guess. 

“Bow’s worried you’re depressed. Catra is too.” Glimmer offers up bluntly. 

“ Glimmer, you can’t just tell her that.” Bow’s voice pitches comically high. 

“Well, you are! I am too, a little bit. But! I also figured she had some rough sleep if she walked all the way here from Festal Gorge, so I think we should cut her some slack.” It sounds like she’s picking up an argument she and Bow were having before. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

“Still, you can’t—”

“I didn’t sleep for like, a month before I got here.” I cut in. 

Glimmer and Bow look at each other with wide eyes. “Is that … normal, where you’re from?” 

I actually laugh at that, shaking my head. “Not at all. But I kept …” I trail off for a minute. “I had visions. They kept me up all night.” 

Bow perks up. “Visions?” He looks like he wants to ask a follow up question, but he must see something on my face that keeps him from it. “Well, you can sleep now?” 

I nod my head. “So far, yeah. It’s been nice.” I was dead to the world for hours on end, everything gloriously quiet and dark all night long. My thoughts stray to something Glimmer said. “Catra’s worried about me?”

Things between Catra and I have been off. Sometimes I still can’t believe that I fell apart like that the moment I saw her. I thought I’d be angry or that it would be unbearably awkward. But the second I saw her, it was hard to remember all of the reasons I had to be upset. I was just relieved that she’s alive and here . 

But beyond that first moment, we haven’t really spoken. We haven’t hugged or touched at all and I’m not sure where we stand. I’m not sure where I want us to stand, either. 

The pair look at each other like they’re having a conversation with no words. Finally, Bow glances my way. “Yeah.” He confirms softly. “I think she’s been worried about you since she left the Horde, honestly.” 

 My scoff sounds so bitter I hardly recognize it. “I somehow doubt that.” 

Bow’s brow furrows. I think I’ve only seen him look at those weird Bright Moon puzzle games like that. “I don’t know what made Catra leave but she’d been kind of quiet until you got here. And now, she always asks about you. Not sure what else it could be.” 

I blink at the man, my throat closing up. I’m not sure why I feel tears pricking in my eyes—maybe it’s because there was a time I’d never see Catra again, that I’d never know her fate after she left. 

A part of me still feels angry. But more than angry, I just hurt. And it’s not even all about Catra. At the end of the day, she isn’t even who I feel most betrayed by. 

I’d been so sure about everything. I had so much certainty in everything I believed in—in the way that Mara and Prime would guide my life with goodness if I only had faith. But the fissures are there now and I don’t think they’ll ever go away. 

Years and years of sermons and parables and teachings—my dad, Light Spinner—Shadow Weaver—, my teachers, the priest who took my first confession. Everything and everyone I’d ever known was reveling in falsehoods, even as they warned us all against just that. And I’d never doubted them, never questioned it. 

It feels like a tear right through the fabric of reality. A hole I could never hope to fill or fix or ignore. 

I shake my head, taking a sharp breath to try to keep the heartbreak off my face. The heartbreak of losing the world I knew, one I thought had order, justice, and fairness. 

“Well, you guys don’t need to worry about me. Not anymore.” 

Surprisingly, Glimmer puts her hand on my arm, eyes soft. “I don’t really think it works like that. You’re important to Catra, so you’re important to us.” She shrugs, like it’s that easy. 

I bite my lip to keep from crying. I take a deep breath and smile. “That means a lot. Thanks.” 

I always thought of Bow and Glimmer—the concept of them, before I met them—as people who wanted to take Catra from me. I never imagined that they’d be like this. 

I realize that even though so much is up in the air, I do want to try and be friends with Bow and Glimmer. 

I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable in Glimmer’s house, mostly because of the size of it. Bow’s house is still big, but we had houses like that in the Festal Gorge. I don’t think anyone had a house like this though. 

Even though it’s that big, I’ve come a few times to use the library. I’ve used the public library and I can never really focus because I can feel people staring at me. Sometimes I think I’m imagining it, but other times I swear it’s real. 

In the library in Glimmer’s house, there are no stares and strangers. I can relax. Today though, I keep trying to finish reading the same page over and over. I bite my lip, trying to force my eyes to the top of the page but it’s no use. 

I keep thinking about how I haven’t had a vision since I arrived at Bright Moon. I don’t know what it means . 

Up to now I’ve mostly been grateful. I mean, it’s not like it’s a pleasant experience. But I fully expected them to come back. For something to happen. But it’s been almost a week since I got to Bright Moon and nothing has. 

I know I glowed on the day I got to Bright Moon, if only because of the odd looks I got from Bow and Glimmer, but that was because of Catra, I think. I never really stopped to think about how often I glowed around her, chalking it up to us being together so often. 

Even with everything I’ve learned so far speaking with Bow’s dads and reading books, I still wonder if maybe I disappointed She-Ra. If I somehow lost her in my faithlessness.

I startle when I hear the door to the library open. It’s Catra and her eyes zero in on me, as if she was looking for me. “Why do you have that look on your face?” 

I don’t really want to talk about it, especially with Catra. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

Catra’s lips pull into a halfhearted smile. “Looks more like stewing.” She leans forward and for a split second, I think she’s going to touch my forehead with her finger, the way she used to when we were close. Maybe, when we were still friends, given how things stand now.

I want to ask Catra why she’s decided to stay here. I want to know if she finds Bright Moon as confusing as I do. I want to know why she left me behind like I didn’t mean a thing to her.

“...maybe.”

Catra sits across from me, eyes glancing over my books. “Is it something about …” she runs a finger over one of the spines “... Eternian military formations?” 

I shake my head. Instead of telling her what I was thinking about, I picked something that I had been meaning to ask Catra. “I, well… Bow said you tried to send me messages?” 

Catra’s eyes widen and her lips are pursed. She’s clearly upset. 

“Yeah, I did. You ignored them.” 

My brow knits together. “I didn’t get any.” Even Bow said they were returned, didn’t he? 

“What do you mean? I sent them to your trackerpad.” 

I roll my eyes at that. “We can’t even get messages from outside Festal Gorge, Catra! You know that.”

She gives me a disbelieving look. “Everyone knows those get sent to a junk folder in your messages.” 

I blink. “Huh?”

“You didn’t know that?” 

“Why would I know that? It’s not like I was receiving secret messages from the outside!”

Catra shakes her head for a moment and she lets out some cross between a scoff and a laugh. “That’s—I guess I should’ve realized you wouldn’t know about that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not a rule breaker.” 

“I am!” I spit out. “I—” I snap my mouth shut. The truth is, the biggest rule I ever broke was being with Catra, but I don’t want to bring that up now. “We dyed Kyle’s hair green.” 

“I guess we did do that.” Catra acknowledges. She lets out a soft sigh. “You really never saw them?” Her voice is almost afraid as she asks. 

“No. I had no clue.” If I had even half a lead to how to contact Catra I would have taken it with both hands. It feels like Mara is mocking me—to have searched for so long for answers about where Catra was, only for there to have been messages sitting right in my trackerpad. 

It reminds me of something else that’s been on my mind. “What did you do with your trackerpad?” 

Catra tilts her head to the side. “I buried it somewhere back in the Horde.” 

“Um, did you want me to find it?” 

She blinks, one of her ears flicking out. “No, I hadn’t—I was trying to keep it from Shadow Weaver.” Her lips press together in a tight line, anger coloring her eyes. 

It’s the perfect opening to ask her why she threw me under the skiff with Ligh—Shadow Weaver. I don’t understand it. She didn’t leave the trackerpad for me to find, but she did leave me messages. As far as I can tell, Catra cares but she also left me behind. 

It hurts like someone pushing down on a new bruise. She might not hate me, but Catra doesn’t love me either. 

I don’t know if I can have that conversation—if I can stand to ask Catra what happened. It feels like it would be obvious that I love her and her rejection still feels so raw. I don’t think I could take it if Catra looked at me with hatred—or worse, pity . 

I clear my throat looking down at my book. “You know, they even got the uniforms wrong. In the paintings we have of the First Ones.” 

Catra relaxes slightly, her expression changing into a curious one I know well. “You mean the First Ones didn’t fight on the battlefield in flowing robes?” 

“Well, it sounds silly when you say it like that .” 

She lets out a high pitch, squeaky laugh and my heart clenches in my chest.

I don’t know how Catra manages to take classes at Bright Moon University. On the first day I stepped on campus I was too distracted to realize just how sprawling it is, building after building in red brick, multiple paths winding and leading to different fountains and sculptures. The Sanctum was big in its own right but it felt a lot less confusing to navigate. 

Thankfully, I’m not alone now. Glimmer volunteered to bring me to Lance’s class. I’m not enrolled but he said I could come if I wanted to and after a week and a half of being in Bright Moon, I wanted to try and see what school might be like here. 

The walk from the Archer’s house to the main campus is a pretty one. There are lots of big trees planted on the side of the road and flower beds in the medians. The skiffs are smaller than the ones in the Festal Gorge and a lot quieter too, which is nice. 

“Do you like Bright Moon?” 

It’s not the first time I get that question from Glimmer. She’s one of the most curious people I’ve met, but I like that about her. “Yeah.” The truth is … kind of. I don’t dislike Bright Moon by any stretch, but it’s all so new it’s hard to focus on anything but that. “I still get homesick though.”

“What’d you miss?” 

“Feeling like I understand how stuff works, mostly.” Everything in Bright Moon is overwhelmingly different from what I’m used to. “I don’t know. It’s home.” 

“That makes sense.” She hums for a moment and I watch as she tilts her head to look at me more full on. “So … part of what you miss… I mean, weren’t you a Goddess?” Glimmer asks awkwardly. 

My throat dries up. There’s no good answer to that question now. “I don’t—that’s what people thought. The high priests, anyway. At the Horde. I don’t miss that.”

That much is true. I don’t miss the constant pressure, the visions, the isolation, the sleep deprivation. Living in Bright Moon is by no means perfect and I do feel lonely sometimes, but I at least have some hope for what the future might look like. 

“What do you think?” 

I shrug. “I know some weird stuff has happened to me. But my visions have been gone for a while which was the most … prophetic thing, I guess? If you could even call it that.” I shove my hands in the pocket of a jacket Bow gave me. He called it a letterman, although I’m not sure why. “I don’t even think they were very accurate, honestly.” I laugh it off, hoping Glimmer drops it. I haven’t told anyone about how my hand healed. 

She nods. “It sounds scary. I don’t know if this is wrong to say, but I’m glad they stopped.” 

“Thanks.” Glimmer opens a door to one of the building that look like the many on campus. “Is class this way?” 

“Yeah, just down the hall.”

I can’t fall asleep tonight and I think it might drive me to an early grave, I’m so tired mentally. You’d think that after spending so long mostly awake when the visions kept me up that it’d be used to it, but I’m not. Or maybe I was, but since I’ve been in Bright Moon for close to two weeks, I’ve lost my resilience. 

It was one of those days where nothing went right. I felt like I said the wrong thing at the library when I bumped into a stranger, I confused some of the history I’d been studying with what I’d learned before that was apparently wrong, and the new food we tried today made me nauseous. 

Worse, my body feels warm in all of the wrong ways—frustration and a different type of tension rolling in my gut. I know what I would have done before I was in Bright Moon. I’d quickly shove my hands in my pants and just give in to the urge, or I’d pray, hoping it would be taken from me. More recently, I would see if Catra would want to sneak up to the rooftop where we could be together. 

None of those things were options except the first one, but I hadn’t given into that urge in quite some time. Here in Bright Moon, I was told that it’s a natural thing. That most people want to do it and that there’s no shame in the act. They even call it self-love—I snorted the first time I’d heard that and Catra cracked a smile. 

I let my hand slip to the edge of my underwear. Maybe if there’s not supposed to be shame and there’s no fear of getting caught, I can try to enjoy this. I let my eyes close as I slip my hand into my underwear, finding the sensitive nub that sits atop my opening. I start touching it and I feel the urge to rub quickly, to finish before anyone knocks even though it's the middle of the night. 

My fingers stutter over my folds as I think about how Catra used to touch me. She’d be so patient, acting as if there wasn’t a single reason to press forward and save time. I never felt rushed with Catra, even though I knew we were under a time crunch. It makes me wonder how things would be like if we had been together in a place like Bright Moon, where we truly wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught. 

I think about that touch and I ignore everything else. I dip down and touch my entrance, surprised to find wetness there already. I slowly deep the tip of my finger inside, my breath catching as I do so. It surprises me, how much nicer this feels than what I normally do. I close my eyes and I let myself imagine it’s Catra. I shove away the little voice in my head that tells me this isn’t right, that Catra doesn’t want me. I want her and I’m not hurting anyone, so long as this isn’t the sin I was taught it is. 

You look so good like this, Adora. You’re gorgeous. 

Catra’s voice would be almost smug as her eyes wander down my frame, I just know it. A glint of pride shining through as she made me wait. But she’d always be tender enough that it would blunt my ego, a perfect balance between teasing and loving. It’s one of the reasons I never wondered if Catra loved me—under her hands, I felt cherished. Desired. 

I let out a sigh and slip my hand back up to touch my clit, this time in lazier circles. It’s better than just moments before, electricity shooting straight out to my core. “More.” I pant out, giving into the fantasy fully. 

You can have more if you want. You can have everything— just use your words, baby.

I’m dying to be kissed—to feel Catra’s lips on mine, devouring me. There’s no substitute for that, so I whine instead, picking up the pace as the heat in my gut builds.

I remember the first time we fucked on the rooftop. I wanted nothing more than for Catra to be mine—I always want Catra to be mine. She was so beautiful, panting and whimpering as I touched her and she was a force of her own when she touched me, claws leaving marks on my body I’d stare at in the mirror for days to just remember .

I wish I had those claw marks now—those pin pricks that were deliciously sore for days after Catra had me. Well. She always has me.

My hand is at a frenetic pace, the kind I wanted to start with but now it feels so much better. 

“Catra.” I give myself permission to whimper her name. To let the four walls of my room know who I'm fantasizing about. “Catra—please.” 

I don't know what I'm begging for—for her to finish me off and send me to a higher plane, for her to come back and love me the way I still love her. Either way, I slam my eyes shut as my orgasm overtakes me, my fingers deep inside me. 

It's the best orgasm I've ever had alone, but it's nothing like it would have felt if Catra were here.

And even though I was told here in Bright Moon this is okay, I feel my shame double for touching myself in the first place and thinking of Catra while I did it.

“...Adora?”

I stare at the book in front of me, trying to keep my composure. It’s based on a number of primary texts as are all the ones that the men across from me have been recommending.  

It’s my third session with Lance and George relearning history. I thought I’d run into the most upsetting differences between what I’d been taught and what I’m learning to be true now, but I was wrong. 

I glance up at them. “So they—the war, the evil magicat Queen, that’s just not true?” 

George’s eyes are soft as he nods. “The artifacts and accounts we have don’t support that. The magicats sought refuge here on Etheria and the ancient kingdom of Halfmoon took them in.” 

I’m not sure why every new revelation surprises me this much when I know there are lies everywhere. And it makes sense—if Serenia wasn’t fighting on the side of evil, why would the magicats who allegedly fought alongside them be bad? 

This feels different from other hard truths though. I never really believed that Catra was less than just because she was a magicat, but to know that the way she was treated was based on lies —the injustice of it makes me feel so angry. 

“This—why would they say this? Why would they hurt people like this?” 

My skin crawls, repulsed by the fact that someone, or a group of people I guess, intended to hurt magicats, just because they could. 

Lance sighs. “It’s complicated. Many societies have used history—bent it in their favor to support their goals. It’s why it’s so important to keep accurate records and attempt to disabuse ourselves of any prejudice we might hold in our hearts.” 

“I don’t know how to do that.” I admit. “Like—how do you even know what’s the truth?” 

I obviously want to do it. But I’ve spent my whole life not knowing how to tell the difference between what’s true and what’s not. And I believed so much . I gave so much of myself for something that wasn’t true. 

How can I ever trust that I know what’s true when I can’t even unwind reality now? How will I know if I’ve got it right? 

Lance and George are both quiet for a moment. They don’t bother looking at each other, instead just keeping their eyes on me. 

It’s finally Lance who speaks up. “Do you want to learn how?” 

“Yeah.” 

He smiles brightly. “Then you’ll do it. You just have to be patient with yourself.”

I nod my head. “Okay.” I want to try.

After that, we don’t have much more to finish before Lance has to go teach and George has office hours. It leaves me sitting around an empty classroom in the building, waiting for them to finish so we can head off campus together. 

The large metal door clanks open. “Hey Adora.” 

My head snaps up, eyes focusing on Catra. The sight of her makes me feel so much I’m worried I might throw up. 

I’ve since learned that Catra’s fully enrolled into BMU studying music which is why she’s not always at Glimmer’s whenever I visit. I could do the same thing next semester if I wanted to—but that’s the whole problem isn’t it? What I want.

“Hey.” I can’t really meet her eyes right now—all I feel is guilt.

She seems to pick up on whatever I’m feeling because from the corner of my eyes I can see her ears pin back as she sits on the edge of a table two seats down from me. “You good?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Did you—I learned about the magicats today.” 

Her tail freezes in the air in a way I know means she feels caught. Shy. It’s not a common look on Catra and it’s definitely not one I’ve seen here in Bright Moon. 

“What did you learn?” Her words are slow, almost cautious.

“That we were wrong about that too.” I take a deep breath. “Catra, I’m so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” 

“But I do!” I shake my head. “I can’t believe that I never—I just believed it. Even though I knew you weren’t less than I still tolerated it.” 

She shakes her head. “It’s—if you try to worry about all the stuff you believed back there, you’ll never get over it. Some of that you have to just let go.” 

I can feel the frown on my face. There’s so many parts of my life that I don’t know how to let go. 

“I guess you’re right.” I notice that Catra has some kind of instrument with her. “Is that the guitar?” 

It’s covered in some kind of protective casing, but the shape looks like the instrument Catra showed me when she told me she was learning to play. We didn’t have anything like the guitar, as far as I remember. 

She nods, her tail touching the side of the case. “Yeah. I just got back from my lesson.” 

I think about asking her to show me, but it feels like a lot to ask for. I’m not sure what else to say so for a few minutes we sit in silence. 

It’s not the comfortable silences I’m used to feeling with Catra—a silence like you’re relaxing alone. It’s not particularly uncomfortable either. 

We’ve fallen into a holding pattern. Sometimes, we talk about our days and laugh and we look at each other and just get each other. Other days, it’s much more reserved. On others still, I feel upset, anger rearing its head at everything that remains unknown between us. 

But sometimes I think, having a small slice of my friendship with Catra—the only piece of home I really have anymore—is worth the discomfort. 

“Do you want to see if we can bother Glimmer at her dorm?” I figure she’s probably done with her morning classes by now. 

Catra grins at me, grabbing the strap of her case and pulling it taut across her body. “Sounds like a plan.”

—

Once I’ve been in Bright Moon for two weeks, I decide I have to do something that I’d been putting off. I have to ask Bow to borrow his trackerpad, given that I don’t remember where I lost mine and as much as I appreciate George and Lance’s hospitality, there was no way I’d let them buy me one like they offered.

I dial one of the only numbers I know by heart, sitting crisscross on my bed with the door locked. I thrum my fingers against the side of Bow’s trackerpad nervously waiting for him to pick up.

“Hello? Adora?” 

My dad’s eyes widen as he takes me in through the hologram, mouth wide. His voice is gruff with relief and I feel guilt at having waited this long to contact him. As much as my dad and I aren’t close I know he cares about me. He’s just not great at showing it, no matter how much I wish he was.

“Dad?”

“Oh, Adora.” It almost sounds like a sob or a prayer. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Where are you?” 

“I’m in Bright Moon.”

“That’s a bit far but I can come pick you up, if you need.” His voice is muffled, like he’s walking in our neighborhood back home. I can’t really see where he is, but he falls out of focus, the hologram flickering out.

“I—pick me up?” 

“I don’t have to.” More shuffling in the background. “I can have someone sent to you.”

“Dad, I’m not coming back.” 

I know now that I can’t ever go back to the life I lived in the Horde. Maybe one day, once I’ve found my place better, I could go visit but even the idea of that hurts too much right now. I feel like it wouldn’t do me any good.

My dad stays way too quiet for way too long, his bushy eyebrows pulling together now that he’s in focus on the trackerpad again. “You’re not returning to school?” 

“No.” I swallow thickly. “I’m not returning at all.” In some ways, it feels like a crazy thing to say so quickly after leaving but it feels right. Better than any of the decisions I made when I was still there.

His jaw drops open for a moment before it snaps shut. “... I see.” 

“It’s—I’m not what you all want me to be.” 

Every day, I’m more convinced that whatever is happening to me, it doesn’t mean that I’m destined to be some divine being. And here in Bright Moon, that doesn’t have to mean I’m a failure. I have a choice in who I am here, even if I have no clue who that is yet. 

“You don’t have to be anything you aren’t, Adora.” I can’t say for sure, but his eyes look wet. “You know that your best efforts to walk in the light of Prime will be rewarded by Mara.” 

What used to be a comforting refrain now sounds hollow. 

“No. I’m sorry, but I’m not—I’m staying here.” 

The silence feels immeasurably long, probably because I can’t breathe through it. I’ve always tried to make my dad proud but this could not be farther from that. In his eyes, I’m sure this is betrayal, strong and deep. I can’t even begin to think what he might say. 

“Are you going to look for your mother?” 

I blink, shock running through me. I hadn’t thought about her since I left—I don’t think about her often if I can’t help it. 

“I don’t know.” I answer honestly. 

He nods, as if he’s expecting that. He faces away from the hologram and I can see his lower lip trembling. “If you do—if you find her, can you tell Marlena that I—could you tell me if you find her?” 

I’ve never heard my dad’s voice sound so small, almost weak. He never spoke of my mom and I always thought it was because of the anger and shame he felt that she abandoned the church. That she abandoned us. 

Now, I suspect it’s entirely different. 

“I will.” I don’t know that I will, but I say it either way. I don’t even know if I’ll look for her. “Don’t try to look for me, okay?” 

I love my dad but I can’t—I can’t love him right now. Not from close up. Not if I want to figure out where I go from here. 

I see a tear fall and then another. “Alright. Stay safe.” 

He hangs up quickly, the same as he normally does when I call. 

I don’t return Bow’s trackerpad for another hour because I’m too busy crying.

I’ve checked three of the communal rooms in Glimmer’s house looking for Catra and I’ve had no luck so far, even though Glimmer swore she was down this hallway. I’m starting to wonder if she was playing a prank on me when I hear something from the next room. 

The door is slightly ajar and I peek, in trying to figure out what it is, when I catch sight of her. Catra is bowed over her guitar as she sits on the ground, her curls billowing lightly and the curve of the instrument snugly against her thigh. 

The music is so different from everything I’ve ever seen Catra play. She plucks at the strings, strums them as she moves her hand up and down, a little furrow in her brow. I don't know if I’ll ever get over it. The way Catra creates music tugs at some part of me that isn't flesh or bone. Some special ephemeral piece of me that's been hers forever.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to really see this but I can't tear away. So, I sit in my hiding spot watching her move, watching her be. If this was before, maybe I'd have the courage to walk up to her, to ask her about how she likes her guitar. If she ever misses singing with the choir. 

"Adora, I can see you glowing back there." Catra sounds amused, her eyes never lifting from her hand as she keeps playing perfectly. 

I blink at the call out, and sure enough I catch the light flickering out. Still not sure what that means. I make my way in the room, lingering a few feet away.

“Why do you pick the guitar?” I came to ask Catra if she wanted to grab something to eat, but it can wait.

Catra shrugs. “It called to me.” Her lips quirk up into a grin. “I know that sounds stupid but I strummed and I knew. I still tried out a bunch of other instruments but I liked the guitar best. I’ll probably try to pick up another one after I feel like I’m good enough with this.”

I watch as she moves her fingers smoothly up and down the neck of the instrument. It’s hard to believe she’s only been doing this for a few months. “You seem plenty good enough to me.”

Catra shoots her a raised eyebrow, but otherwise looks pleased. “Adora, you have the ear of a tree. It’s a miracle you could carry a tune in the mandatory choir class.”

“I’m not that bad!” Still, I feel a laugh roll through my body and it feels good. I haven’t felt this close to Catra since before . “What you were playing earlier—who made it? Is it something popular here in Bright Moon?” I still struggle with things like secular music. The little voice that makes my body flood with guilt refuses to be quiet.

Catra looks down, bashful. For a second, I regret asking—maybe Catra doesn’t feel comfortable with secular music either, even though she had a head start over me here in Bright Moon.

“I made it.” She admits.

“Oh. It’s beautiful.” Of course if Catra wrote it, it’s gorgeous. She’s just talented like that. “I’m surprised you're still into writing music. You didn’t seem to like it all that much before.” I remember how often she’d complain about having to arrange things for the choir.

She rolls her eyes. “Well, that was all about ‘glory to Prime’ and the ‘divine right of Eternia.’”

“Then what do you like to write about now?” I’m not sure what topics are appropriate in secular music. I’ve been so busy with history, I haven’t really had a chance to learn.

Surprisingly, I see a blush crop up beneath Catra’s fur. “Just other stuff.” She glances away, down at the guitar. 

I can feel that wall again—something impenetrable that keeps me from Catra. An invisible wall I keep walking into because I’m stupid. Just because there are moments that feel the same, doesn’t mean we’ll ever get that back. Whatever that was—I know what it meant to me, but I don’t know if she felt the same.

I clear my throat, trying to drift away from that thought instead of being stuck on it like a fly in a paper trap. “Well, I think it’s really great that you can still have music.” 

Catra’s shoulders relax, and everything is easy again. “Me too. I was worried I’d have to give it up too, but there’s even more music out here.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. “I’ll probably go to a concert again. It’s like when we got together for those big praise events but it’s secular music and that’s all they do. Just perform for a big crowd.”

I’m struck by how bright Catra’s smile is. She keeps explaining what she’s heard about different kinds of concerts—how people dress up, how it can be like that music festival she’d snuck into at Thaymor but it can also be kind of different—excitement bubbling in her voice and her hands as they move. She’s so warm and confident. Even at her happiest when we were together, she didn’t look like this. 

It makes something inside me ache—back when she’d gone to Thaymor, she seemed like she was slipping away and all I could think about was how she might want to leave me . I never thought about this. About how radiant Catra could be in a place that let her shine, instead of asking her to dim her light. That never recognized her for everything she was and didn’t prejudge her just because she was a magicat. 

I thought that made me special—that I knew how special Catra was, that I could see that. But by shutting her down when she wanted to leave, all I did was try to snuff out her light. I wanted her to be mine so badly—it was selfish. Probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. 

I should have listened to her. Maybe if I did, we could have left together for Bright Moon. Maybe things would have been different and she could have been this happy for way longer. And I could be closer. Maybe she wouldn’t have left me behind. I shake my head—seems like I’m not done being selfish when it comes to Catra.

“I’m sorry.” I blurt out. 

Catra stops mid sentence, and her head tilts to the side. Her lips twist into a thin line and her body tenses. 

“For what?” The words are sharp and she sets down her guitar.

I can feel my eyebrow bunching up as I look at Catra. This isn’t confusion—she seems like she’s on the edge of anger. But I don’t get why an apology would do that. 

“I didn’t listen to you. You told me that we weren’t being told the truth and I didn’t—I didn’t want to be wrong. And I was scared of what it would mean for us. For me, especially with She-Ra.” 

Her gaze trails me up and down, her jaw clenched. “ That’s what you want to apologize for?” She stands up, putting her guitar aside. 

I feel blindsided as I look at her. “What are you getting at?” The longer I let her words sit, the angrier I feel. My apology is genuine, but it doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten that Catra stood there and did nothing when I was dragged away by the clerics on the rooftop. And the real chance that she had something to do with it. “Shouldn’t you have an apology for me ?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Since we’re on the topic.” 

She scoffs. “For what? For doing what you did to me?” Catra shakes her head, eyes narrowed and angry. “You cannot be serious right now.” 

“What?” She is making absolutely no sense to me. 

“You ratted me out to Weaver. You told her that I was sleeping with someone, but you conveniently left out who! And then you just  left me to deal with the witch all on my own. Don’t play innocent now.” She huffs. “I thought you just wanted me to ignore it, and I tried—but not if you’re going to act like this.”

“Catra, that was Kyle.” I shake my head. “I never said a word to her! Why would I?” 

She waves her hand in the air. “No way. Kyle?! Please, Adora. Shadow Weaver all but said it was you.” 

“Then Shadow Weaver lied.” It’s almost funny, how easy it is to think of her lying now when before, I never would let the thought cross my mind. “What did she say?” 

“That you had come to her. That you were concerned for my soul .” 

I almost want to laugh. Or cry—I can’t really tell. 

I blink thinking back to that conversation with Shadow Weaver. It feels like it happened a lifetime ago. “Okay, I did talk to her about you, but all I said was—I tried to get her to make you a class officer.”

Catra looks so shocked, like I physically slapped her. “You—what?” 

“I told her that I was guided by the spirit of Mara and that you’d make a good class officer. I just—you were saying blasphemous things and I thought that if you were recognized, if you had a role, maybe you would find your faith again.” I bite my lip. “I thought that it might stop you from leaving.” 

“You tried to make me a class officer.” She almost whispers the words to herself, her eyes darting back and forth quickly as she processes the information. Then her eyes almost burn as she looks at me. “ Did the spirit guide you?” 

“No. I lied.” I say simply, because there’s nothing for it. “I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have done it at all, especially without talking to you about it. It was wrong.” 

Wrong because I tried to control Catra and keep her with me, not because of any creed or oath.  

“So you … it was Kyle ?” She says in disbelief. 

I nod. “He saw us kiss and he—he overheard us.” I feel the blood rush to my face as I think about just how many intimate details Kyle might have seen. “He went to Shadow Weaver with it because he was worried that you were distracting me. That I’d betray my duty for you.” I swallow thickly and let out a choked, dry laugh. “Seems like he was right.”

Catra blinks again, her eyes pinned back as her eyes well with what has to be grief. She takes a step closer but then she stops herself, her fingers flexing as her claws prick forward.

“I didn’t—I never would have told Weaver about us if I didn’t think you told her first.” Her words run together like a river. “She knew too much and I thought it could have only been you. She said it was you! I thought you were done with me and this was an easy way to get rid of me. I was angry and I wanted to protect myself.”

We sit in silence as we think about what all this means. My heart aches as I realize she really believes that. She really thinks that I’d toss her aside like a piece of trash, something fungible and expendable when she’s anything but. 

Part of me feels offended that she’d think that of me, but another part knows why—she’d been told her whole life she wasn’t good enough and I never did enough to change that. I probably couldn’t do much more than support her leaving the Sanctum and I failed miserably at that. 

I reach out slowly, giving Catra plenty of time to see my hand reach for her clawed one. “You were my—friend. Even if I wanted to stop our … physical intimacy” —I stumble over the words—“I’d never risk you like that. You’re way too important to me.” I let the words slip out of me and I hope Catra will believe me.

My mouth runs dry as I think about everything else I don’t want to admit to. How I still think of the way that Catra’s body felt in my hands, the memory of her shudders and sighs keeping me up at night. How the only way I can make myself climax by my own hand is by thinking of Catra’s touch instead. How sometimes, I cry myself to sleep just thinking about how badly I wish things were different between us. 

Catra stares at me with wide eyes, her lower lip trembling as if she’s speaking to herself. I don’t have a clue as to what she’s thinking. I hope she can’t see my thoughts on my face. Finally, she looks up at the ceiling. 

“Fuck!” 

The curse is loud and crass and makes me look around to see if anyone heard. “Catra!” I admonish in a whisper, my eyes still darting between her and the door.

She stares at me for a moment, before her lips tentatively twitch up into a smile. Slowly, she raises an eyebrow. 

It hits me that neither of us would be in trouble for cursing here. Apparently, it’s not a sin in Bbright Moon, like so many other things. I glance away sheepishly before looking back at Catra. 

“Sorry, old habits.” 

We stare at each other for another moment and then we both burst out laughing. My ribs hurt at how ridiculous it all is—how we ended up here and even the smallest things from before are baked into my bones. We’re learning and still, some things feel the same.

I shift so that I’m standing a little closer, our knees almost touching, our fingers intertwined. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” I admit in a whisper. 

It feels like the only one who might understand is Catra. No one else in Bright Moon has any idea what it’s really like. We’ve talked about bits and pieces here and there, but since I made it to Bright Moon, I’ve never let myself feel this raw in front of her.

Catra reaches her hand—the one that’s tangled in mine—up, and touches my cheek. “I do.” Her gaze burns again, but not in anger. Yet, it’s something I recognize. “You’re Adora.”

I bite my lip, my heart racing in my chest. “I don’t—I don’t know what to believe anymore. I know Prime lied but everything else—how much of it is real? Any of it?” Who am I if I don’t believe that there’s something bigger? A truth that will be there long after I’m gone? And She-Ra seems to be real—maybe. What does it mean for me? Is it some destiny? A glitch in the magic’s planet?

Like always when I think about this too hard, it feels like the rack in my chest opens wider and I’m just sad . I miss believing so, so much. 

Catra catches one of my tears on the pad of her finger, tilting my chin down so I look at her. She’s beautiful. “I don't have all the answers, but sometimes that’s okay.” She offers softly, dropping her hand from my face. “Glimmer and Bow have helped me a lot in trying to get the hang of things here. They can help you too.” 

The mention of our friends when Catra is comforting me like this makes my gut tighten uncomfortably. “You all seem …  close .” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. It’s not that I don’t like Glimmer and Bow—not like I haven’t befriended them in my own right—but it’s just hard to see Catra be so close with anyone other than me. It’s that selfishness again, coveting something that isn’t mine to have.

Catra laughs, her eyes roving my face. It makes me feel exposed. “You seem to have thoughts about that.” 

“I’m happy you have them. It’s great.” I do want Catra to have new friends, and everything else she’s been missing out on by living with the Horde.

“ We have them.” She reminds me. 

I nod. “We have Glimmer and Bow.” That much I do know is true. I hold onto her hand tighter. “But sometimes, I miss when we had each other. I mean, after everything that’s happened, I don’t even know if you want to be my friend.” I admit. 

It’s not just this misunderstanding that led Catra to turn me in. Everything in our friendship had been fraught by the end of our time at the Sanctum, and even when I was close to Catra—when I was breathing the same air as her, when I was inside her—we weren’t close. Not anymore. Not the way we used to be. The thought of losing Catra and never seeing her again cleaves me in two. The thought of never having our friendship back is even worse.

I hadn't realized that I’d started crying again until I feel Catra’s hand cup my cheek fully now, her thumb catching a stray tear. “Adora.” She whispers softly. “I’m always going to be your friend.”

It cracks something inside of me, the same something that is lost and confused, and I cry even harder, much to my embarrassment. I open my arms, pulling Catra into a hug. She holds me tightly back like she’s trying to squeeze the life out of me. It feels so good to be in Catra’s arms, to feel like there’s some part of us that isn’t going to dissolve into nothing. 

I still want more—I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting more of Catra. But that’s fine. I can be in Catra’s life and that’s more than enough. I can love her the way I always have, ardently and from afar. Maybe that’s what I was always destined for.

The tears stop but the hug doesn’t. Catra’s hold on me is as firm as when it started, but less desperate. I burrow my head in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She runs her claws gently down my back, carefully so she doesn’t tatter my clothing. It reminds me of years of soft apologies when she’s gotten too excited and dug small holes into my shirts. 

I pull back and look at Catra. Her eyes find mine the moment I move—there’s something different there. Slowly, she leans forward, placing a kiss on my cheek. Her lips feel soft and it makes me close my eyes. 

It’s not something we’d really shared before. The first time we’d crossed the line and kissed, it had been on the lips. It’s foreign and gentle, and in some ways it feels just as new as Bright Moon still does. 

I open my eyes and Catra is looking at me, gauging my reaction. I can’t tell what she wants me to do, but I know what I want. What I’ve always wanted. Staring at Catra now, so close that I can feel her breath on my cheek, emotions surge through me—that selfishness that keeps rearing its head but also love. Love for Catra—one of the deepest, most grounding feelings I know. 

She lets out a sharp breath.

“Adora … your eyes are glowing.” 

I blink but I don’t think that helps with the glowing. Catra doesn’t pull back, and neither do I. It occurs to me that maybe selfishness isn’t all that bad—that maybe wanting Catra and loving her means that I need her. That I should let myself have her, if she wants that.

I let my hand move so that my fingers graze under her chin, tilting it up. I pause for a moment, hoping Catra will realize what I’m about to do. I lean in slowly, taking a deep breath before pressing my lips to Catra’s.

It feels the same as before but somehow so much better. Catra’s mouth moves carefully, one of her hands winding around my waist until we’re pressed together. I groan and I feel her smile against my lips, a soft laugh leaving her. I don’t want the kiss to end so I keep my eyes closed and I keep her close, holding on for dear life. 

I don’t know that I want whatever is next if I don’t get to have Catra, but our lips just keep brushing together, almost as if she’s assuring me that it’s okay to take a breath. That it won’t be our last kiss together. 

Just as I find the courage to pull back and look into Catra’s eyes, I think I hear a song I’ve only imagined before.