Author: Chris Cook
Email: alia@netspace.net.auRating: M
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy.
She-Ra: Princess of Power characters and concepts are the property of Mattel/Filmation. Actor likenesses are the property of the people in question, although given my haphazard art skills I can probably use the 'any resemblance is coincidental' disclaimer too.
Note: Well that took a while, but here it is at last, and movie-length and all. As usual I’m uploading the images to deviantart
here, with little bits of commentary and whatnot about why I drew/traced things the way I did, and a bunch of extra images showing alternate versions, costume tests, and so on and so forth, so check that out if you’re curious. Now, on with the show, enjoy
Another note: I'm upping the rating on this one, owing to some backstory for one of the new characters being, well, pretty unpleasant. Hopefully it doesn't seem gratuitous.
Oh, one other thing: In addition to shamelessly tracing over the usual She-Ra screengrabs (because my freehand drawing isn't something that anyone, much less our beloved witches, deserve inflicted on them) there's quite a lot of Frank Cho in this one.
Starring:
Amber Benson as Tara/She-Ra
Alyson Hannigan as Willow
Sarah Michelle Gellar as Princess Glimmer
Kristine Sutherland as Queen Joy
Robia LaMorte as Casta
Charisma Carpenter as Queen Bee
Eliza Dushku as Faith
Angela Sarafyan as Mally
and George Hertzberg as General Sunder
Guest starring:
Rudolph Martin as Duke Dreer
Julia Lee as Crita
Elizabeth Anne Allen as Entrapta
Nathan Fillion as Keldor
and Julie Benz as Evelyn
In the two weeks Willow and Tara had been away, summer had arrived in earnest. Even late in the day when they arrived back at the rebel camp, after a leisurely ride from the Crystal Falls including a midday picnic stop, the sun still beat down on the open training ground and paddocks, and the pair weren’t at all surprised to see the workbenches of the rebellion’s carpenters and craftsmen had been moved into the welcome shade of the forest. The day’s work seemed to have been done, and beyond the trees near the shore they could make out glimpses of many of the camp’s inhabitants cooling off in the water, with occasional splashes and voices carrying on the breeze.
The pair dismounted Spirit, who ducked her head for them to pat before trotting off towards the meadow where the other horses would be passing the time, and neared their house, finding Buffy and Queen Bee sitting outside, seemingly comparing hand gestures.
“There they are!” Buffy said, noticing Willow and Tara and springing to her feet. “Welcome back you guys!”
“It is pleasing to be in your presence again,” Queen Bee smiled, while Buffy hugged them both, one in each arm.
“Great to see you too,” Willow beamed, Tara nodding. “Did Xander head off north already?”
“Enjoying the hospitality of the Snow Queen as we speak,” Buffy grinned. “But before he left he helped with a little project we got up to in your absence, speaking of which, close your eyes, it’s a surprise.”
Willow let herself be led into the house by Buffy, while Queen Bee steered Tara in after her, and their hands found one another as the hands on their shoulders put them side by side.
“I swear if this is like the time you replaced all my couch cushions with a dozen stuffed frog toys...” Willow muttered, making Buffy chuckle to herself.
“What’d you do with a dozen frog toys?” Tara wondered.
“She made the earth open and swallow them up,” Buffy admitted. “Literally. Totally worth it though - but no, no pranks. Eyes open!”
“...was just tidying the place up really- What the- Oh, wow!”
“You did all this?” Tara wondered, as she and Willow walked forward, eyes wide. The back wall of the house, past the kitchen and bedroom areas, had been extended - gone was the plain door opening onto the edge of the lake, and in its place a new room had been added, with polished wooden floorboards on one side leading to a new back door in intricately carved wood, and on the other a curved stone bath set into the floor.
“How did you get all this done?” Willow murmured, looking around at the new room - the bath itself, shutters from floor to ceiling behind it, a wooden bench and cabinet, a basin and large mirror up against the side wall.
“Everyone pitched in,” Buffy said proudly. “Queen Bee did the mirror frame. Probably the only wooden frame carved by laser in all Etheria.”
“The suggestion was Glimmer’s,” Queen Bee said. “I had not considered this application of my hand beams. It proved to be a satisfying creative experience.”
“Xander drew up the plans for the new walls before he went on holiday,” Buffy went on. “We figured you two’d be having the Crystal Falls all to yourselves for two weeks, probably get used to bathing and, y’know, whatever, without anyone around, so...”
“C’mere!” Willow grinned, turning to pull Buffy into a tight hug, and extending an arm to drag Queen Bee in as well, before stepping back to let Tara take her place.
“Stay for dinner?” Tara invited them, while Willow picked their saddlebags back up and busied herself emptying their contents back into the wardrobe and drawers around the bedroom area. “Is Liam around? And Perfuma?”
“Love to,” Buffy smiled. “Liam’ll be back in time, he went up to Brightmoon this morning to help put the finishing touches on the new
Sea Hawk, but he should be back any minute. Perfuma’s gone all,” she shrugged and grinned, “summer-happy, kind of - she’s gone from making flowers pop up everywhere to basking in sunlight every chance she gets, she says it’s a seasonal thing. The twiggets seem to think this is normal for whatever the heck kind of being she is.”
“I’ll ask them to ask her if she wants to stop by,” Willow offered, while Tara moved over to the kitchen and started setting up. She closed her eyes in concentration for a moment, then nodded, and went to the cupboard to fetch bowls and pots for Tara to start a stew, while Buffy and Queen Bee moved to join them around the kitchen counter.
“So how’s the wider world been?” Tara asked Buffy. “No crises while we were gone?”
“Nothing worth spoiling a honeymoon,” Buffy replied easily. “You two up for a trip over to Mystacor tomorrow? Mum’s going to fly over to visit Casta, swap news from out of town, all that.” She shrugged. “There’ll be work to do, but it’s quiet enough at the moment - so far as we can tell everyone’s still digesting Horde rule being over. Mum’s been diplomating with everyone she can reach to try to make the vacuum into a lasting peace. Lots of trying to juggle everyone’s points of view. You know how politics is.”
The conversation turned to Brightmoon’s allies in general, then - pausing to welcome Liam, and shortly after him Perfuma - plans to expand the rebel camp into a true town, and in the midst of cooking, Tara caught Willow’s eye and silently mouthed ‘wife’. The beaming smile she received in turn settled in her heart, the centre of a radiant warmth she was glad to return to, in their home, among their friends.
Next morning they rode north, along the shore of the Great Lake, across the ford on the river coming from Brightmoon, and towards Mystacor. Willow, though still wary of other horses, had taken to riding in front more often on Spirit, leaving Tara free to watch the forest around them, and note the strange way their progress along the road seemed to pass far quicker than it should, with the slender towers of Mystacor rising up ahead of them barely an hour after they had set out, despite the distance being a good day’s journey. Casta had explained that it was simply part of the magical realm welcoming its friends, a facet she had been able to reawaken once fully restored to her former self; only herself and Tara, a child of Mystacor, were able to perceive it. To Buffy and the others, despite knowing they were covering the distance magically fast, nothing seemed unusual about the journey itself, and while Willow could sense the magic at work within her beloved forest, even she couldn’t actually see it happening.
Casta was waiting on a balcony overlooking the courtyard, and as the trio dismounted and left Spirit and Moonbeam to graze a golden staircase flowed out of the earth to reach it.
“Highness,” the sorceress greeted Buffy, smiling warmly. “Willow, Tara - I don’t begrudge you your holiday, but it is good to see you both again.”
“You too,” Tara replied, taking the hand she offered. “How’s everything here?”
“In Mystacor, little has changed,” Casta said, leading the way further into the castle, as the staircase vanished into the balcony behind them. “However it is serendipitous that you have returned - I fear a danger may be emerging.”
“Where?” Willow asked. “We wouldn’t have minded if you’d called to us-”
“I know,” Casta nodded. “The need did not arise - my attention was only drawn to this matter earlier this morning.” She looked up suddenly. “Ah, good - her ighness is nearing.”
At a wave of her hand the glass dome above them opened like a flower, revealing Queen Joy swooping down out of the sky, cupping the air with her wings at the last moment to land lightly on the floor near the group.
“Hi mom,” Buffy waved. “Skirt huh? Let me guess, you just happened to fly past Giles’s window on the way over here?”
“Hush you,” Queen Joy said, blushing. “It’s summer, I wear skirts in summer.”
“I don’t remember you doing that the past few years,” Buffy said innocently, as Willow bit her lip and Tara struggled to keep a straight face.
“Her Highness looks most fashionable,” Casta put in, as her robes moved like liquid to become a skirt of her own.
“Honestly, you people have no regard for royal dignity,” Joy said, shaking her head with a smile. “Willow, Tara, welcome back, we’ve missed you.”
As the pair returned the Queen’s greeting Casta turned to the centre of the chamber and summoned a dais from the floor, which spread into a map table showing a cold, barren landscape.
“Skullpath,” Joy observed, taking note of the landmarks as the group gathered around the table. “There’s been movement there?”
“I believe so,” Casta nodded, glancing around the others and adding: “I have been observing, as best I can, the movements of a number of former Horde forces across Etheria. Her Highness anticipated a flashpoint here, and my scrying this morning would seem to confirm her suspicions.”
She gestured at the table, which zoomed out further, becoming a chart showing half a continent, with red trails forming across it. She pointed to one, which has originated in the wasteland that had once been the Fright Zone, before moving across the continent, and at last making a sharp turn towards Skullpath’s mountainous region.
“Two regiments retreated from the Fright Zone, rather than attempt to engage She-Ra during our assault,” Casta explained. “This was the most powerful. Following a brief conflict between it and the other regiment - a quarrel over command, we believe, after which the two went their separate ways - this force, commanded by a Force Captain named Entrapta according to Mantenna, moved south, initially towards the far coast. However it has now turned towards Skullpath.”
She gestured again, and the map zoomed in on the Horde army, enough to make out divisions of marching troopers and columns of vehicles.
“That’s more than a single regiment,” Tara noted.
“Indeed,” Casta nodded. “Entrapta’s force inflicted more damage than it received during the conflict with the other captain departing the Fright Zone, and since then she has absorbed the garrisons of several Horde outposts along her line of march.” She touched the table. “This represents numerous scrying spells, all with their own limitations, but there can be no mistaking the size of the force.”
“We’ve been concerned something like this might happen since the fall of the Fright Zone,” Queen Joy said. “One of the Horde leaders drawing together enough of its remnants to become a successor to Hordak. Skullpath was one of the first realms to side with the Horde during its invasion - it’s isolated, fortified, and controls a sizeable etherium mine. It’s never been a military stronghold, simply by virtue of having been so far within what used to be Hordak’s territory. But if an army like this Entrapta’s were to gain control of it, they’d be on their way to having a power base that could challenge the whole continent.”
“Who rules Skullpath?” Willow asked.
“Dreer,” Queen Joy said, frowning. “Duke Dreer.”
“Indeed,” Casta nodded, raising her hands to summon an image of a cold-faced man. “The usurper Duke betrayed his king to Hordak - one of the first of the Etherean royal lines to fall.”
“I was there, once,” Tara said. “Dreer Keep, the capital - when I was training under General Sunder, our army stopped there briefly during an expedition. I never went inside the palace though. But the whole city was an armed camp. The people were as much slaves as citizens.”
“Dreer amassed great wealth and power under his new master’s patronage,” Queen Joy said. “By all accounts, he gave little thought to the consequences of exercising his power over those he governed - backed by the Horde, he had little to fear. But rumours have reached us of unrest in Skullpath since Hordak’s fall. There have been reports - unconfirmed reports - of a challenge to Dreer’s rule. We don’t know if that is true, or if it is, whether it was a success.”
“How long until the army reaches Skullpath’s capital?” Buffy asked.
“A week,” Casta replied. “Assuming they do not change their rate of march.”
“And no idea if Dreer Keep will bar the gates or welcome them with open arms,” Buffy grimaced.
“Sadly my magic can only reveal so much,” Casta admitted. “This is why Entrapta’s sudden change of course towards Skullpath is concerning - she may have decided to move on Dreer Keep on her own, or she may have had word that whoever’s in charge there would welcome her.”
“That’s why I’m sending you,” Joy said to Buffy. “If Dreer Keep’s current ruler could be swayed to our cause - or even to reject Entrapta’s approach purely out of self-interest - you have the best chance of convincing them to accept our aid. You’re a Princess of Brightmoon, and you’ll speak with my authority. I can’t offer any clear direction given how little we know, but I trust you to follow your judgement, whatever course seems best once you’ve learned what the situation is there.”
“I won’t let you down,” Buffy promised.
“I know. Tara-”
“Of course,” Tara said at once.
“And me,” Willow added. Queen Joy grinned.
“I had no doubt,” she said. “If better circumstances prevail, you are our best ambassadors - for Brightmoon, for the Rebellion. For an Etheria without war. But if there are enemies at Dreer Keep, you three together are a formidable power.” She sighed, and studied the table. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
“How do we get there?” Buffy asked. “
Sea Hawk?”
“Yes,” Joy replied. “I know Spirit could fly you there, even all three of you-”
“-but She-Ra’s a show of force,” Tara nodded.
“And Skullpath was so far inside the Horde’s borders, they probably only heard of the Rebellion in whispers,” Joy said. “Mixed with who knows what Horde propaganda and misinformation. Even if Dreer has been deposed, his successor may still have grave reservations about us. Liam can fly you to the mouth of the valley, in advance of Entrapta arriving there.”
“And then we get our bearings and do whatever needs doing,” Buffy summed up.
“I’d like to speak to General Sunder before we leave,” Tara said to Queen Joy. “He met Dreer in person, at least that one time. He may know something about Entrapta as well. I remember her, but we never spoke - she had only just been promoted to Captain when Willow rescued me from the Horde. If she became trusted enough to command a Fright Zone regiment afterwards, the General would be more familiar with her, at least her record.”
“Of course,” Joy agreed. “You may find him more open to our point of view than your last visit.”
“Really?”
“I’ve allowed him to see as much of Brightmoon as is practical, given his position,” the Queen explained. “His convictions are strong, but he’s not blind to the world around him. He does seem to be taking in what we truly are, not what the Horde used to claim. It’s not an easy process for him.” She paused, then gave Tara a smile. “He’ll be glad to see you again though, I think.”
“Thank you,” Tara said. Joy placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then nodded and moved to speak with Buffy, while Tara returned to where Willow and Casta were studying the map table, which had changed to show layers of colour beneath the ground.
“Nature magic?” Tara guessed, and Willow nodded, gesturing at the image of the windswept valley and its jagged slopes.
“It’s not quite grassy fields and bubbling streams, but it’s healthy land, for the most part,” she said. “I’ll be able to help out if we need it.”
“Good to know.”
“We don’t have to leave for Brightmoon right away,” Willow went on. “If you want to go see her, before we go...?” Tara smiled and nodded.
“I won’t be long,” she promised, leaning in to brush their lips together.
“No rush,” Willow assured her. She glanced at Casta, who gestured for Tara to follow her.
“How is she?” Tara asked quietly, as they left the map room behind and made their way through the labyrinth of ever-changing corridors that filled Mystacor.
“She sleeps,” Casta replied. “Sometimes she dreams. Her soul, so far as I can sense its movements, is... troubled. But not in pain.” She pushed open a pair of tall doors, and let Tara precede her in - Tara had noticed, when she visited her sister, that Casta never used her powers to transform the architecture around the healing chamber, creating doors and passageways as casually as she did elsewhere. She felt in a way that it was the sorceress’s way of tiptoeing, so as not to disturb anything.
Tara walked slowly towards the figure suspended in a column of light, eyes closed, arms crossed over her, her body curled over slightly as if she were nestled in invisible blankets. Faith’s face was smooth for the most part, but a tiny furrow between her eyebrows suggested some subtle unease beneath the impression of sleep. Tara gazed up at her for a long moment, then glanced around, frowning in thought as she noted a glimmer of rainbow colours in the light cocooning Faith.
“Light Hope?” she asked.
“Yes,” the light replied, in a quiet voice that seemed like an echo of the one she had heard on Skydancer Mountain. “Hello again, Elyta-Rana.”
“Are you helping heal her?” Tara wondered.
“The First Ones put Faith through her own trials in the Crystal Castle, just as you faced yours,” the entity replied. “The troubled awakening of her soul was, in part, our doing. And as you have chosen for She-Ra’s power to be guided by compassion, so my path is steered.”
“Oh,” Tara said, wide-eyed as she contemplated this. “Thank you, I... Do you know if she’ll recover...?”
“Her soul’s turmoil cannot be brushed aside,” Light Hope said. “Even in sleep, she must walk a path through great darkness, a labyrinth of her own creation. However, the light she inherited from touching She-Ra’s power may be nurtured. My magic, combined with Mistress Casta’s, provides what help is possible. More than that, I cannot say.”
“Thank you for trying,” Tara replied. She took a deep breath, gazing at Faith again, then glanced back at the haze of colours in the light. “You know the mission we’re about the go on?”
“The Crystal Castle sees all,” Light Hope said.
“I don’t suppose there are any helpful prophecies about what’s going to happen?” Tara asked, with a slight grin.
“Many paths are possible. I cannot direct you, only urge you to follow your best instincts.” The entity paused, and when it spoke again, its voice was slow, as if choosing its words with great care.
“The time of empire on Etheria is in its twilight. The age of sorcery is at hand.”
The next morning, while crews finished rigging Liam’s new
Sea Hawk moored to the observatory tower - now thoroughly transformed from the Horde ship it had once been - Tara made her way to a small house, within the grounds of Brightmoon castle but standing apart from the other outbuildings, the tall walls around it topped by the glitter of enchantments, and a lieutenant of the palace guard standing by its gate.
“Miss,” she said, stepping to one side as Tara neared. “You’ll find him in the courtyard this time of day.”
“Thank you Mally,” Tara nodded. Passing through the gate the lieutenant opened for her, she walked around the side of the small house, finding the man she sought exercising on the grass by the rear patio, doing push-ups with his natural arm while holding his mechanical limb behind his back.
“General,” she announced herself. He glanced over at her, and got to his feet, picking up a small towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“Tara,” he replied, an awkward smile briefly passing over his face. “I understand an expedition is underway.”
“Word travels fast,” Tara said, venturing a smile of her own as she took the seat on the patio General Sunder offered her.
“Lieutenant Mally feels there’s no risk in sharing the news of the day,” he replied, seating himself. “Who would I tell that didn’t already know?” He glanced at Tara and cleared his throat. “Her Highness on her most recent visit told me of your marriage.”
“Yes,” Tara nodded. “To Willow.” Sunder nodded too, and looked away.
“I see,” the General replied. “There was a time I’d have thought... well, a rebel witch. You know what the Horde taught about such people.” He stopped and looked quickly at Tara. “I’m not... I’m no longer so sure of many of the things I once believed. I’m... pleased you’re happily wed. For what that’s worth, from me.”
“It’s worth a lot,” Tara said gently. “The Queen said you’d been reassessing Brightmoon.” Sunder was silent for a moment, then looked across the small courtyard, thoughtful.
“When the enchantment on you was broken,” he said slowly, “these people... accepted you. Was that ever... difficult? For you?”
“Sometimes,” Tara admitted. “Forgiving myself for everything I’d done before was... it took time.”
“You weren’t responsible,” Sunder said, a note of stubbornness in his voice.
“I know,” Tara agreed. “But I remember that life. It’s part of me, and I had to make my peace with those memories, before I could... move past them. Feel like I deserved what I was being offered.” She kept her gaze on Sunder, but left the question on her mind unspoken. He looked down at his mechanical hand.
“I gave everything to the Horde,” he muttered. “What’s left to deserve anything?”
“A man of honour?” Tara suggested. Sunder sighed.
“I wonder if that’s what I ever was,” he said.
“I learned it from you,” Tara said quietly. “That’s one part of my past I didn’t leave behind. I’m glad it’s still a part of me.” Sunder looked up at her, genuinely surprised, then looked away again, and eventually shrugged.
“Perhaps,” he said at last, leaning back in his chair. Tara remained silent, sensing he was putting the matter to rest for the moment.
“Where will you be going?” he asked after a moment’s thought. “Your expedition?”
“Skullpath,” Tara said.
“Ah,” Sunder nodded. “Dreer.”
“We’re not sure. There’s word he may have been deposed.”
“I don’t doubt it,” the General said flatly. He gave a wry chuckle at Tara’s surprised look. “You remember his city, the way the people were kept in line by force? His inner circle, in the court, was worse - he’d humiliate his lackeys simply to make himself feel strong, and they fought one another for his favour because his displeasure was worse. Without Hordak’s strength behind him, the only question is which of his sycophants built up the nerve to throw him in a dungeon first. What brings the Rebellion there?”
“Some of the Fright Zone’s regiments abandoned it before it was destroyed,” Tara explained. “One of them’s moving towards Dreer Keep. Of course Horde remnants all over the world have become effectively independent warbands, but-”
“But a Fright Zone regiment is more powerful than most,” Sunder nodded. “Which captain?”
“Entrapta,” Tara said.
“Hm. Gifted engineer. Methodical by nature. I’d wager a lot of former officers will be becoming undisciplined without Hordak leaning over their shoulders - not her. For what it’s worth, she’s predictable,” he added, “at least so far as battle goes. On the field she trusts to straightforward tactics and brute force. Don’t underestimate her though, she builds ample redundancy into her battle plans. Even a clever opponent won’t be able to outmanoeuvre her without being bloodied in the process.” He paused in thought for a moment. “Let her get dug in, and she’ll turn Dreer Keep into a fortress it’d take years to grind down.”
“We’re hoping to stop her from getting the chance,” Tara said. “If whoever’s ruling now can be convinced not to ally with her.” Sunder nodded.
“I hope you succeed,” he said. “At least, that whoever rules Dreer Keep is less stubborn than I was.” Tara saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and let herself grin in reply.
“Nobody can be
that stubborn,” she ventured. He blinked in surprise, then laughed abruptly.
“No, probably not,” he agreed. He met her gaze for a moment, then held out his hand. “I’m sure you have preparations to make. Thank you for making the time to see me.”
“Thank you for helping,” Tara replied, taking his hand.
“To you as well,” Sunder said.
Boosted by its etherium drive, the new
Sea Hawk sailed far higher in the atmosphere than its predecessor, so much so that the handful of crew remaining on its open deck to tend to the solar sail masts did so in pressure suits, while the rest, and the passengers, stayed below decks. Liam has ensured that they wouldn’t be denied a view by building huge windows into the mess hall and the luxury cabins, and on returning from a chat with Buffy, Tara found Willow on the couch in their cabin’s enclosed balcony, kneeling on the seat and using the back as a desk as she gazed down at the distant land and sketched idly in a notebook.
“Mapping?” she asked, settling down next to her wife.
“Just letting my intellect meander around,” Willow replied, holding up the page for Tara to see what looked like a mix of geography and magical equations, in her usual colourful writing. Willow dipped her quill into one of the rainbow of tiny pots in her inkwell and added a note to a leyline. “I don’t often get to make notes on land magic from this high up.”
“What about flying on Spirit?” Tara asked, shifting slightly. Willow chuckled, still sketching away.
“That’s very pleasant,” she agreed, “but there’s nowhere to put a book. Besides I’ve got my arms around you the whole time, I’m distracted, you know?”
“I keep you from your notebooks?” Tara asked. Something about the teasing tone in her question made Willow turn to look at her, and she grinned when she saw Tara had shed her tunic and undone the seam of her undershirt.
“There’s more to life than notebooks,” she murmured, dropping the quill to slide closer to the blonde.
“It’s nothing important?” Tara asked, nodding towards the book, and Willow shook her head.
“Nah. My intellect and the rest of me are in complete agreement on this. You know what, it occurred to me... can’t think why just now,” she added, as Tara smiled and nuzzled her neck, “that... I’ve never made love to my wife on a flying ship.”
“You’ve never made love to your wife lots of places,” Tara whispered. “Apart from the Crystal Falls - and I think we made a very respectable start on our home.”
“But still, variety being the spice of life and all,” Willow pointed out, “no time like the present to broaden our horizons as a married couple.” Tara laughed softly as Willow took her hands and led her towards the cabin’s double bed.
Much later, Willow stirred, slowly opened her eyes, and found herself moved to rise from the bed she shared with Tara, slipping out of the rumpled sheets and standing in the cool night air. Behind her was their cabin as she remembered it, but ahead was a desolate landscape, marked by misshapen columns of rock casting strange shadows in the moonlight. As she walked she became aware of a path ahead of her, a bridge rising out of the earth, spanning a great chasm that seemed endless, and she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the moonlight’s ever-growing glare, trying to make out details in the huge form waiting on the other side of the bridge, some kind of building, crumbling as she watched, towers and walls crashing down to uncover some ancient fossil hulk within. The moon’s light grew until the glare and heat drove her to her knees, then leapt into the ground in front of her like lightning, and she looked up to glimpse a figure standing in the middle of it, gazing down at her-
“Sweetie?”
Willow blinked in the dark of the cabin, and let out a shuddering breath as she realised she had been dreaming, and Tara was beside her.
“I’m okay,” she said at once. “Had a dream.”
“Magic?” Tara asked gently.
“Think so,” Willow replied, relaxing. “Are you okay? Was I-”
“I’m fine,” Tara assured her. “It wasn’t like you were having a nightmare or anything, just - I don’t know, I had a feeling. Here?” She offered Willow a glass of water from the bedside table.
“Thanks. I saw... I don’t know really, it’s difficult to get details. A landscape - somewhere I’ve never been. Night. A place, somewhere I was moving towards, something specific. And power, a huge... it felt like it’d just keep building and building. And a woman. She... looked at me, I’m not sure what she wanted. She had...” She gestured vaguely. “Something about her eyes. Like a hawk, maybe. You know how hawks look at you, like they’re zeroing in?”
“I think so. The power was hers?”
“I think. Part of her, or to do with her somehow.”
“What do you think it means?” Tara asked quietly. Willow shrugged.
“That’s the trouble with prophetic power,” she admitted. “It’s a lot easier to see what it’s getting at once you already know the answer.” She took another sip of water, then rested her head on Tara’s shoulder. “The last time it happened - when I saw you?”
“I remember you telling me.”
“You were all in darkness,” Willow said. “In hindsight it makes sense, but before I knew what was going on it seemed like you
were the dark, and that’s literally as wrong as it’s possible to be. I’ve learned not to try to nail down details too much whenever this happens.
Something’s coming, but good or evil... no way to know.”
“The age of sorcery,” Tara mused.
“Could be,” Willow said. “Magic’s always been a part of the world, but everything ebbs and flows. Prophecies - my dreams, anyway - come from Etheria itself, everything in the world being connected, and that doesn’t speak in simple sentences.”
“Message received, though,” Tara said. “Keep our wits about us, whatever we find.”
“Yep,” Willow agreed. “I’ll tell Buffy in the morning. And if we see a woman with a bird’s beak, we’ll keep an eye on her. You never know, it
could finally be a really straight-forward and obvious prophecy.”
“Can’t rule anything out,” Tara chuckled, settling back down as Willow set the glass aside, blew out the candle Tara had lit, and cuddled back up to her.
“Sorry I woke you,” she murmured.
“Do I seem upset?” Tara asked, her smile invisible in the dark, but felt by Willow nonetheless.
“No, ‘cause you’re perfect.”
“C’mere...”
“Skullpath,” Buffy said flatly. “Well. Full marks for accuracy.”
She, Willow, and Tara stood beneath a looming archway spanning the worn road leading into the realm’s territory, the lone sign of habitation in an otherwise empty landscape of bleak, rocky slopes flanking a featureless valley. Willow moved closer to the arch, examining the mass of bones and skulls it seemed fashioned from.
“On the plus side it’s just stone made to
look like bone,” she noted. “So y’know... not literally decorations made from dead people. Oh hey,” she added, suddenly more animated, “look at this - the writing on here, it’s old.
Really old, this is pre-dynastic, one of the founding languages. You almost never see this preserved on actual sites, just copies of older copies in history books.”
“The things you get excited about,” Buffy said wryly, chuckling at the sight of the fond smile Willow’s enthusiasm was drawing from Tara. “So, what’s it say?”
“Um... ‘skull path’,” Willow said, standing back up with a sheepish grin. “The
age of it’s exciting, the content not so much.”
“At least we know we’re not wandering into the wrong kingdom,” Tara said, as they passed beneath the arch and made their way along the lonely road.
“So it’s, what, about a couple of hours’ walk to Dreer Keep?” Buffy mused, looking around the desolate landscape. “I spy with my little eye... do they even
have anything here besides rocks?”
“I think I spy a welcoming committee,” Willow said, pointing ahead. Buffy waved a hand in front of them and the air curved into a lens, bringing the tiny dot of motion at the far end of the valley into sharp focus, revealing a figure clad in dull grey metal on a similarly armoured horse.
“Is that... that’s a Horde trooper,” Buffy frowned, clenching her other fist.
“A Praetorian,” Tara nodded. “But... Wait, that’s not right.”
“What’s up?” Willow asked, as Buffy focused the lens further, enlarging the image of the distant rider.
“Praetorians are for show,” Tara explained. “They’re more rudimentary than battle troopers, but they’re built to
look impressive - the styling of the armour, like knights, the robo-horses rather than glonders or something more practical. They’re given to Horde vassals as rewards for their loyalty, to make them look prestigious to their subjects.”
“So naturally Duke Dreer would’ve gotten a bunch,” Buffy said. “What’s not right about it?”
“No Horde symbols,” Tara pointed out. “It should have them on its chestplate, on the robo-horse, I’ve even seen them with smaller ones on the helmet, shoulders...”
“Hordak had no sense of taste,” Willow quipped, making Tara grin for a moment. “So someone’s stripped off its livery. Doesn’t seem like something a loyal Hordeling would do.”
“Maybe no blasting needed after all,” Buffy said, letting the lens dissipate, while the glow that had been slowly forming around her other hand likewise faded away. “Still, keep behind me - if Mr. Metal here makes a move, I’ll wreck him.”
“Agreed.” Tara and Willow remained where they were, while Buffy took a step forward to wait for the mechanical knight to reach them. In due course the Praetorian approached, halting its robo-horse in a jerky approximation of a human rider reining up his mount.
“State your business,” it said flatly.
“Travellers to Dreer Keep,” Buffy replied.
“Your business at Dreer Keep?” the rider demanded. Buffy turned her head and whispered “Might as well find out now,” to the others, before turning back and raising her voice again.
“We have messages for Dreer Keep’s ruler,” she said, “from the court of Brightmoon.” There was a long pause, then the rider mechanically tilted its head in what was presumably supposed to be a nod.
“Messengers may enter the capital,” it said. “The Queen will hear messages at audience. Follow.” Without waiting it turned its robo-horse about and set off back along the path at a walking pace.
“Didn’t react to Brightmoon,” Buffy noted, as they fell in behind the rider.
“I think its programming has been reset,” Tara said. “Praetorians are loaded with propaganda, they can barely get a sentence out without having ‘all glory to the Horde’ in there. This one’s talking like it’s operating on just basic parameters. It could be its owner deleted the advanced programs to remove loyalty overrides to the Horde.”
“And Dreer Keep has a Queen now,” Willow mused.
“Unless the Duke had a nervous breakdown and started wearing a dress,” Buffy added, before becoming serious again. “Can’t be a descendant of the old king - Hordak was ruthless wiping out all Etheria’s royal lines. Me, Mom, and Frosta are practically all that’s left of the great houses.” She gave a little chuckle. “That’s one reason Mom and I had quite the debate when I decided to start a rebellion, rather than stay inside Brightmoon where it was safe.”
“Lucky you’re so argumentative,” Willow joked.
“I am that,” Buffy laughed. “Could be one of the nobles took over and proclaimed herself Queen.”
“Just like that?” Tara wondered.
“If you go back far enough,
all royal lines descend from someone who basically just put a crown on their head and dared anyone who wanted it to take their best shot.” She sobered. “Part of what Mom’s worried about now. The old traditions could be stabilising, or they could wind up with dozens of would-be kings all fighting each other just for pride’s sake. A crown’s only as good as the head it’s sitting on. Well. Just have to see what kind of royalty we’re dealing with today.”
The valley narrowed, and its slopes steepened, as their escort led them along, until at last they rounded the edge of a tall ridge and saw Dreer Keep before them: an imposing citadel of dark stone, with turret spires like skeletal horns and a facade carved in the shape of a great skull, looming over a sprawling industrial city built in the shadow of its battlements. Beyond the citadel the valley walls rose up and met as sheer cliffs, barely visible through the mist.
While the road out of the valley was nigh unused - the trio had passed no more than a handful of scattered buildings as the Praetorian led them towards the keep - the many roads stretching behind the city seemed a constant procession of carts from the cold farmlands covering the remainder of the valley, and ore trains from the mines burrowed into the cliffs. Moving through the city they saw dozens of forges and workshops, consuming all the ore trains that rumbled into the city - all but the armoured trucks carrying etherium, watched over by squads of Praetorians, which vanished into the keep itself by way of armoured gateways..
Their escort gestured them towards another guard, on foot, who led them through the main doors into the keep, which passed through the jaws of the great carved skull, and then through the interior to a large meeting hall, far more opulent than the foreboding exterior had suggested. Other guests, who from their attire seemed to be nobles of various ranks, were gathered on either side of the central dais and its vacant throne, while common citizens were gathered along the far wall either side of the main doors, but the Praetorian instructed Buffy, Willow, and Tara to wait for their ‘audience’ to one side, away from the hall’s other occupants, and took station beside them as they waited, the subject of curious glances and murmured conversations from the nobles and commoners alike.
All other sounds died as the drumbeat of marching soldiers, precise as only robot troopers were, echoed from the corridor behind the throne, and a double column of Praetorians emerged, parting to flank the throne and form a corridor between it and the main entrance. As they fell into silence a lone figure emerged in their wake, a woman in armoured vambraces and boots, and all but bare otherwise, the rest of her junoesque body covered only by a metal harness of sorts that wound around her torso, from which hung a black cloak. It billowed behind her like a stormcloud as she strode confidently to the top of the dais, swept a cold stare across the assembly before her, and draped herself across the throne.
“Interesting... hairdo,” Buffy whispered. Willow nodded, then glanced quickly at Tara as she heard her take a startled breath.
“That’s a Horde slave harness,” the blonde whispered in reply to her silent question.
“She was one of Dreer’s slaves?” Willow asked.
“Not anymore, looks like,” Buffy muttered. The Queen slouched casually in her throne, propped one foot up on the side of it, and raised her hand.
“Have our visitors enter,” she said, in a voice that seemed to carry unnaturally clearly through the long hall. Buffy squared her shoulders and took a breath, but then the doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and again the chamber rang to the sound of marching feet.
“What the heck?” Willow whispered, as a contingent of Horde troopers - proper battle troopers, with the Horde’s crimson winged skull across their chests - marched between the two columns of Praetorians, stopping before the royal dais. The front rank stood aside to allow two officers to pass, one a tall woman in the armour of a Captain with a mane of red hair streaming behind her, the other a xenian with pale purple skin, and life-support technology fashioned into her armour.
“Entrapta,” Tara whispered. “The Captain, that’s her.”
“Here?” Buffy frowned. “Her army can’t have moved that fast - we’d have seen it on the way in!”
“Maybe she came ahead of it?” Willow suggested. Tara shrugged, and the three fell silent as Entrapta took another step towards the dais, sneering at the Praetorians before fixing an arrogant gaze on the Queen.
“You are...?” she asked.
“My name is Evelyn,” the Queen replied coolly. “But ‘Highness’ would be the proper form of address from you.” Entrapta rolled her eyes.
“Alright,” she snorted. “Congratulations on your ascent,
Highness. Effective immediately I’ll be assuming the role of military governor of Dreer Keep, and my troops will take over the etherium operation entirely. Your workforce will continue working the ore mines, and supplying any other resources I require.”
“And what,” Evelyn said quietly, “makes you think I would agree to any of that?” Entrapta’s eyes widened in surprise, and she took another pace forward, onto the first step leading up to the throne.
“This is a
Horde state!” she barked. “As the ranking officer I have total authority over everyone and everything in it, including you. You think deposing Dreer makes any difference? You peasants rule each other however you want - the Horde owns you
all.”
“We do not recognise the Horde’s claim,” Evelyn replied, waving off her Praetorians, who had begun to shift closer to her when the Horde captain moved towards her, but now fell still.
“What do I care what some jewelled whore thinks?” Entrapta sneered. The murmur of conversation from the nobles beyond the lines of troopers and Praetorians instantly ceased, and Evelyn straightened in her throne, glaring daggers for a moment, before her lips curled into a cold smile.
“Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, and posing to show off her body. “I’m sure that’s what you see. That’s what Duke Dreer saw, when he fled the Fright Zone’s fall, and hid in his chambers - a loyal servant of the Horde, a frightened child in his armour,” she took a step forward, looking down at Entrapta, “just like yours. And I wore this,” she cupped a mostly bare breast, “when he had me brought to him to cater to his... appetites, soothe him as I had done so many times in the past. Only
this time,” she grinned, and descended the stairs to stand right in front of Entrapta, “I took the blade given to me to groom myself, and dug it into his throat until it wedged fast between the bones of his neck.”
She glanced down at the Horde crest on Entrapta’s chestplate, then met her gaze.
“Does that armour make you feel powerful?” she asked.
“You think you’re a threat to me?” Entrapta snapped back. “Just the troopers I have in this room could rip all your toy soldiers to shreds, and
you,” she chuckled, “you think cutting some old pervert’s throat makes you powerful?”
“No,” Evelyn shook her head. “I think
this makes me powerful.”
On her words the light from the dozens of torches around the hall dimmed, and a crackling halo of inky black energy formed around her head. The Horde lieutenant standing with the troopers gasped in shock, and Entrapta fell back a step. The nobles and commoners around the edges of the hall seemed to shrink in on themselves, and Buffy, Willow, and Tara felt a wave of dread washing over them. Willow and Tara’s hands found each other instinctively, and Willow reached in turn for Buffy, on her other side, and held her hand tightly as well.
“I did not expect courtesy from the likes of you,” Evelyn snarled at Entrapta, her voice deep and resonant, “so I allow you to live, today. But there will not be another warning. Take your army and leave
my realm.”
“I won’t be intimidated by sorcerer’s tricks,” Entrapta retorted, though her trembling voice belied her words. Evelyn walked forward, forcing the Captain back off the dais’s stairs entirely.
“Imagine my hatred for the Duke,” she whispered, her words reverberating through the hall as if emerging from the stone itself, “and the Horde that let him rule here. Come to this place again, and you will discover what sorcery such fury can fuel.”
Entrapta hesitated for a long moment, as her troopers and Evelyn’s Praetorians stood silent, and everyone else in the hall held their breaths - then the Captain took a step back, whirled about, and snapped an order to her lieutenant. She gestured to the troopers, and they fell in behind their commander as she strode out of the hall, her face red with anger. Evelyn watched them go, then turned and stalked back to her throne, as the magic around her faded and the torchlight became bright again.
“We have other messengers also, I understand,” she said as she resumed her seat. “Let them stand forth.”
“Thanks for putting her in a good mood for me,” Buffy muttered, casting a glare at the closed doors through which the Horde troopers had vanished, as she made her way forward, with Willow and Tara at her heels.
“That was weird magic,” Willow whispered, as the Praetorians parted to let them through,
“Not natural,” Tara whispered back. “Later.” Buffy looked back over her shoulder, taking in the exchange of glances between Willow and Tara, but seeing Willow remain silent rather than questioning her, nodded slightly and turned back ahead, leading the way to the foot of the dais.
“Highness,” she said, coming down on one knee, with Willow and Tara copying her at her sides.
“Rise,” Evelyn said, with an incline of her head.
“These are Willow and Tara, of the Great Rebellion,” Buffy announced. “And I am Glimmer of the line of Mizar, Princess of Brightmoon.”
“Indeed?” Evelyn said, leaning forward in surprise, then settling back in her throne and beckoning. “Approach, Princess of Brightmoon. What message is so precious it can only be carried by royalty?”
“The magic of Mystacor showed us the army approaching you,” Buffy replied. “We don’t want to see any remnant of the Horde securing a kingdom with which to build themselves up again. All we knew about Skullpath were rumours that the Duke might’ve lost power, nothing more. My mother Queen Joy sent us to see what was happening here - and me to speak in her name once we did.”
“I see,” Evelyn nodded. “And now you have seen?”
“You want the Horde back here even less than we do,” Buffy said. “That sounds like the dictionary definition of ‘mutual enemy’ to me.”
“Do you feel I need allies to face my enemies?” Evelyn asked.
“I think standing alone is the riskiest path,” Buffy replied. “Based on what I’ve just seen, I want to help you. If you’ll allow it.”
Evelyn let out a slow breath and studied the three of them for a long moment, finally resting her gaze on Buffy, who returned it levelly. At last she nodded, and rose.
“The Princess of Brightmoon and her companions will be our guests tonight, if they wish it,” she said, her voice raised for their audience to hear. “And we shall talk further in private.”
“So what’s this about her magic?” Buffy asked, once the three had been shown to a suite of rooms and told to wait for the Queen’s summons. “Apart from it feeling distinctly unpleasant of course, but since she was throwing it in that Captain’s face I’d guess that was the point.”
“I think I recognise it,” Tara said, seating herself next to Willow on a couch, while Buffy leaned on the edge of the writing desk opposite. “A few years ago Shadow Weaver developed a, a kind of device, for storing magical energy so that people could draw on it.”
“Any people?” Willow asked. “Even with no magic of their own?”
“That was the point of it,” Tara nodded. “Hordak called them Shadow Stones - it was his idea. Gifts for loyal servants of the Horde.”
“How powerful?” Buffy asked.
“Not very,” Tara shook her head. “Shadow Weaver never took much interest in the project, it was just to keep Hordak happy - and even Hordak didn’t want to make
strong sorcerers, or they might’ve become rivals. It was just to bribe noblemen, to buy their loyalty. I didn’t know who they were given to, but obviously Dreer would’ve been a candidate.” She glanced at Willow. “I didn’t think of it before now, I’m sorry - I never thought the Shadow Stones could produce
real magic.”
Willow lifted her hand and kissed it gently, while Buffy looked thoughtful.
“I wonder,” she said, catching Tara’s attention. “Wills - how much
actual power do you think that was? Not just effect, raw force.”
“Well it wasn’t just a light show,” she replied. “But... I see what you’re getting at. She didn’t actually
accomplish anything much, besides shrouding the lights a little, and that... projection of emotion.
Strong emotion, but that sort of thing’s difficult to gauge.” She looked back at Tara, who thought, and nodded slowly.
“It’s not what I’d have expected,” she admitted. “But maybe...”
“You think she was bluffing?” Willow asked Buffy.
“I think she’d figured out what she was going to say to that Captain ahead of time,” Buffy replied. “Nothing she heard surprised her - not like when I told her who I was, that was an
actual reaction. She knew pretty much what Entrapta was going to want, and how she’d react to being denied - not that that took much imagination. Waiting for the insult, throwing it back in her face,
then bringing out the magic when she’d already unsettled Entrapta by telling her about... the Duke, and what she’d gone through...” She grimaced, then squared her shoulders. “I think rehearsed. That wasn’t her losing her temper, despite how it felt - it was calculated.”
“To make Entrapta think she was biting off more than she could chew,” Willow mused. She looked to Tara. “Do you think it’ll work?”
“From what the General said about her,” Tara replied thoughtfully, “I... maybe not. I wouldn’t bet on it. Ever since the fall of Mystacor the Horde’s dealt with sorcery by swamping it with brute force. Up until, well,
us, it’s always worked - and Entrapta’s army is large enough that she might well attack anyway, regardless of what she saw today.”
“Crap,” Buffy muttered. “Are those Praetorians as useless as Entrapta said?”
“She was boasting a
bit,” Tara shrugged. “About only needing as many as were in the room - but no. Praetorians can’t match battle troopers, and unless the Queen has a lot more than we’ve seen, Entrapta’s got numerical superiority anyway.” She glanced at Willow, then looked back at Buffy. “I’m with you, in helping her.”
“Yep,” Willow agreed. All three looked up at a knock on the suite’s door, which opened to reveal another Praetorian.
“The Queen will receive you now,” it said monotonously. “Follow.”
The corridor leading to the keep’s royal apartments was obvious by its ostentatious decoration of gilt-edged carpets and trophies lining the walls, but the Praetorian led them across the main hall to another set of chambers, where they found Queen Evelyn waiting, poised on a lounge and watching them as they were ushered through the doorway.
“Princess,” she said guardedly, rising and offering her hand. Buffy took it, and blinked in surprise when she took another step forward, staring down at her for a moment with their faces inches apart, before nodding and moving to one side.
“Highness,” Buffy said belatedly, watching her curiously.
“You three have come to keep Skullpath free of the Horde,” she said. “Princess, your powers have been spoken of, even here. Are your companions similarly gifted, to help hold off an army?”
“Willow is the sorceress of the Whispering Woods,” Buffy said, clasping her hands behind her back, as Willow ventured a smile. Tara caught Buffy’s eye and nodded.
“And Tara knows our enemy better than anyone,” Buffy went on. “She was once a Horde officer - controlled by magic. Willow helped her free herself. She’s been a faultless ally, and a better friend, ever since.”
“Controlled,” Evelyn said quietly, slowly approaching Tara, who held her ground, returning her stare.
“By Hordak’s witch, Shadow Weaver,” she replied.
“You must have encountered people in the free lands who... doubted your new allegiance.”
“Some, yes,” Tara agreed. “And blamed me for who I was, and what I did.” She took a deep breath. “I did, as well - blamed myself.” She looked briefly to Willow, then met Evelyn’s gaze again. “My friends helped me forgive myself, in time. But I understand why you’d... doubt me.”
“Yet you volunteer this,” Evelyn said, turning her head to look at Buffy.
“Lying didn’t seem like the best way to start us off,” she replied levelly. The Queen gave a thin smile.
“I appreciate your candour,” she said. “As it happens, I was aware of your... past.” She grinned at their surprise, and gestured to another doorway leading further into her chambers, raising her voice: “If you would join us?”
A man emerged - tall and handsome, Vargon ancestry showing in his pointed ears, and his long black hair unbound. He moved with grace despite his armour, which even stripped of its livery and beneath a dark blue cape was unmistakably Horde.
“Keldor!” Tara said in astonishment.
“Captain Tara,” the man said, nodding to her. Willow, who had moved protectively closer to Tara at her exclamation, looked at her, while Buffy glanced at Evelyn, finding her grinning in faint amusement.
“Captain Keldor commanded one of the Fright Zone regiments,” Tara said, her voice steadying.
“And any officer of the Horde would recognise Hordak’s former protégé,” Keldor said. “I see I was right to doubt the official story - that it was the Great Rebellion who used magic to sway your mind.”
“Your regiment fought with Entrapta’s after the Fright Zone fell,” Buffy said, a note of challenge in her voice.
“Indeed, Princess,” Keldor replied. “Faced with the possibility - once barely considered - of the Horde falling, it seemed far from preferable that a tyrant such as Captain Entrapta have such a sizeable army at her disposal. I... acted rashly, though, and lost much of the force at my command.”
“You’ve turned away from the Horde?” Tara asked.
“I cannot claim to have been held by magic,” Keldor shook his head, “or even any special coercion. I served Hordak - loyally, and well - because I saw no other option. Forgive me but, your rebellion... until recently, seemed a hopeless cause. At least, when seen from the vantage point of the Fright Zone.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Who could have dreamed?”
“I have accepted Captain Keldor’s pledge of loyalty,” Evelyn said firmly. “I understand what it is to see no path but to serve, no matter the... character of the master. He is Captain of my royal guard... such as it is.” She gave Tara a wry grin. “No doubt you have informed your friends of the limitations of my Praetorians?”
“I still command what remains of my regiment,” Keldor said to the rebels, without waiting for a reply. “Battle troopers, though not enough to deter Entrapta, even allowing for the advantage of an entrenched defence. With your aid, though - and evacuating the population temporarily to the mountains, to allow our defence of the city to be flexible...”
“We can call on She-Ra,” Buffy suggested. “She can be here before Entrapta’s army, and-”
“Forgive me, Princess,” Keldor interrupted. “I considered that possibility once you announced yourselves at the audience. I witnessed She-Ra’s might at the fall of the Fright Zone. However there is a complication: my battle troopers, as part of the Fright Zone’s command division, were hard-coded to attack She-Ra on sight, regardless of other considerations. Such was Hordak’s fear of her - not unfounded, as she proved.” He sighed, and shook his head. “That programming remains, and I am not a talented enough engineer to remove it, without also removing the battle protocols in their entirety.”
“Rendering those troopers little more effective than mine,” Evelyn said.
“What about Entrapta’s?” Tara asked. “If they have the same programming, She-Ra could lead them away from the city-”
“Entrapta
is accomplished enough to reprogram her forces,” Keldor shook his head. “One reason my attempt to remove her from command was a failure - she wasted no time making her troopers loyal to herself personally, and no longer to the Horde or any other officer.”
“You know her army best,” Buffy said, crossing her arms. “And the keep’s defences. Can we hold it? Without She-Ra?”
“I’m far from overjoyed at the odds,” Keldor replied. “But... perhaps.”
“The alternative would be to abandon Dreer Keep,” Evelyn said. “Collapse the etherium mine, and flee over the mountains, with Entrapta vengeful at our heels. A slow and cruel journey for the thousands I... rule.” She sat back down, and dropped her gaze to the floor. “The Duke would not have hesitated to sacrifice so many. I do not... wish to follow his example.”
“We’ll do everything we can, Highness,” Buffy promised. Evelyn looked up at her, and gave a slight nod.
“Then we are in agreement,” she said quietly. “Here we stand.”
With the Queen leading the way, the group came to a broad chamber lined with columns and ancient battle trophies, dominated in the centre by a huge map table, its carved wooden surface recreating Skullpath’s geography in miniature around a model of Dreer Keep.
“As you no doubt noticed on your journey,” Evelyn said, gesturing to the valley leading through the highlands to the edge of the table, “the approach to the keep is undefended; with the Horde ruling all the surrounding lands Dreer saw no need, nor for any military beyond the Praetorians. There has been too little time to fortify the valley.”
“The mines behind the city produce raw materials in great quantities,” Keldor added, “but the Horde shipped the ores out rather than have them worked here; there are no factories or refineries beyond simple smithies and workshops.”
“So the city itself is the fortification,” Buffy said grimly.
“Yes,” Evelyn nodded. “We cannot hope to hold Entrapta in the valley - already Captain Keldor’s batmeks have seen her army approaching, at a fast march.” Her lips twisted in a scowl. “My defiance seems only to have infuriated her.”
“Your pardon, Highness,” Keldor said quietly. “It was the sound choice. If we stung her into a more swift advance, the days we have lost would have added little to our defence. We had no way of knowing we would receive aid from afar.” He gestured to the rebels, and Evelyn glanced at them and nodded.
“Perhaps,” she admitted. “Hopefully, then, we can avoid the worst-case scenario we discussed.”
“Which was?” Buffy asked.
“To a point, unchanged from the one we now pursue,” Keldor said. “Evacuate the civilians to the farmland behind the city. Fortify with her Highness’s troops, and what remains of mine.” He frowned at the model of the city. “But alone we could not have prevented Entrapta from taking the city, street by street, and then pushing through to capture - or kill - the population beyond.”
“In that eventuality, once her army was within the city, we would destroy it,” the Queen said flatly.
“The army?” Willow asked.
“The city,” Buffy said, eyes wide. “Those etherium shipments we saw, coming into the keep - how much of it have you got stockpiled?”
“Enough to consume the city entirely,” Evelyn replied. “The Duke built extensive storage facilities within the heart of the keep, for his own projects - quite safe for storage, I assure you. But that same etherium, planted throughout the city and detonated... even if Entrapta held back a portion of her army, the firestorm would block their passage for days. The kingdom would be gone, but its people would have time to retreat in good order, and survive.”
“That’s pretty drastic,” Buffy said quietly.
“And thankfully it can be avoided,” Keldor said, glancing at Evelyn. “Your powers, as I understand them - I read preliminary reports of the battle before Erelandia - will greatly magnify our defence, forcing Entrapta into narrow lines of advance, and inflicting heavy losses in the process. I anticipate she will still enter the city, but in doing so, she will weaken herself too much to resist a counter-attack.”
“That’s going to do a lot of damage to the city,” Tara pointed out.
“Unavoidable,” Evelyn said. “And we would have had to rebuild anyway - much of the city was built to serve the Horde. Warehouses and staging yards for shipping raw ores to the Fright Zone, and slums for the populace.” Her eyes settled on the silver model at the centre of the table. “The keep will survive - it’s been added to generation after generation, but the central castle is the oldest, strongest fortification in the realm. It will stand - and house its people, while they rebuild.” She looked across the table at the rebels, and raised an eyebrow. “What think you? Can it be done?”
“Wills?” Buffy asked. “I’m thinking not that different to Erelandia - they can’t come at us from the sides. No Frosta to put up ice shields, but if the keep’s as strong as all that, it’ll hold by itself.”
“I’ll be able to raise barriers from the earth the same way,” Willow said, nodding to herself as she studies the ground before the city. “Yeah, same plan. Stop them from advancing on a broad front, funnel them. You do your,” she wiggled her fingers, “zappy thing to bog down the heads of any columns they send in. And we’ll have Horde troopers
with us this time - how many?” she asked Keldor.
“Two hundred,” he replied. “And two squadrons of tanks. My heavier units were sacrificed in my first attempt to depose Entrapta.”
“But the light armour can be entrenched in cover here,” Tara pointed out.
“More than we had at Erelandia, all told,” Buffy noted. “I think we can do it.”
“Then I shall give the order to move the population out of the city,” Evelyn said. She looked up and caught Buffy’s eye. “This will not be forgotten.”
“If my mother ever visits and you have a queen-to-queen chat,” Buffy grinned, “tell her what a smooth diplomat I am, we’ll call it even.”
“I’m not sure your habit of telling the truth doesn’t disqualify you,” Evelyn murmured, half to herself. “At least, among what passes for ‘nobility’ here.” She looked around the table one last time. “The day grows long, and we all have preparations to make. We are certain Entrapta cannot hasten her march any further?” Keldor nodded calmly. “Then I shall summon you again at daybreak tomorrow, and we will make our final plans to defend the city. Until then.”
“Highness,” Buffy said, ducking her head, Willow and Tara following suit.
“Captain Tara?” Keldor said, intercepting the rebels as they moved to leave the map chamber. “A moment of your time?”
“Of course. I’ll catch you up?” Tara said to Willow, touching her arm lightly.
“Sure,” she agreed. “We’ll see if we can rustle up some dinner from somewhere.”
“Any of the Praetorians will direct you to the kitchens,” Keldor offered.
“Thanks. See you.”
“Later, sweetie,” Tara smiled, watching her go for a moment before turning to Keldor, who gestured towards an alcove, away from Evelyn who had remained standing before the map table, staring down at it in thought.
“It’s just ‘Tara’, by the way,” she said, taking a seat next to Keldor on a stone bench.
“Of course,” he nodded. “Forgive me - force of habit. I actually...” He chuckled and looked away. “I find it comforting to still be a ‘captain’ here, in spite of everything. Not that I miss the Horde, but after so long...” He shrugged, and Tara nodded.
“I understand,” she said. “When I was freed from Shadow Weaver’s spells, and joined the Rebellion, it was... nothing was familiar.”
“You seem to have made an agreeable life with them?” Keldor asked, his tone almost apologetic for voicing the question. Tara blushed slightly, and nodded.
“Willow and I were married recently,” she replied. “Right from the start - when I had no idea how to be free, or even who I was, really - she was my... my anchor, the one part of myself I was sure of.”
“I’m sorry to pry into personal matters...” Keldor began, but Tara shook her head.
“It’s not an easy thing, to start life over,” she said.
“No,” he agreed. “No, it isn’t. I’m glad to have had this chance to meet you - so far from Brightmoon, I hadn’t considered the possibility. But who else would look at a turncoat Horde officer without scorn? Everyone in Skullpath has either learned to hate the Horde by being crushed under its boot, or grown fat collaborating with it and now hates it for abandoning them.” He looked over at Evelyn. “Besides her Highness, of course.”
“How did you come to be here?” Tara asked. Keldor shrugged.
“By chance. After the Fright Zone, and defeat at Entrapta’s hands, I had... no plan. No home to return to, if any would even take me, no mission to pursue, no leader to follow. And more than that...” He fell silent for a moment, then continued. “The Horde had been my world. Not one I
loved, but a... certainty. So many hundreds of officers just like me, and thousands upon thousands of troopers - I was a part of something
immovable. A small part, inconsequential perhaps, but that was my... my place, and I understood it. And then... She-Ra.”
He gazed off into the distance, past the columns lining the chamber to the slowly darkening sky beyond the room’s balcony.
“My regiment was on the reserve lines, far from where the battle erupted,” he said softly. “I saw her only from far away, but that was enough. She... danced on the horizon, tiny, and glittering like the reflection of light on a ripple in water. She should have been the most fragile thing and yet she spun and wove and danced, and the Fright Zone, the heart of the Horde... broke apart around her, as if she were the only
real thing in a world of mist and shadows. A world shattered utterly, this, this immovable monolith of the Horde I had never dreamed could truly
falter, let alone fail... against this one woman, this golden titan, it was scattered like chaff on the wind.”
He rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at the floor.
“And there I was,” he said. “No path forward, nor even a world to stand on. And then, in disarray, there came the rumour from Dreer Keep - the Duke deposed by a mere slave girl, who defied his nobles, and swore never to submit. I... felt like I was grasping at straws, but I followed the rumour, came here. I don’t know what I expected to find, only that... I had an army and no cause, and this seemed a cause with no army.” He looked again at Evelyn, who was busying herself on the far side of the chamber, amid shelves full of scrolls. “And when I saw her, I saw... something of She-Ra in her. A force of will that would face the whole world, and not turn away.” He glanced sidelong at Tara, and gave a wry grin. “It may be wishful thinking - our odds are not enviable - but I cannot deny what I saw at the Fright Zone. Etheria does not belong to petty warlords, who hoard swords and blasters and think themselves strong, when one woman alone can bring them crashing down. Win or lose, I will not serve that lie again.”
Tara was thoughtful when she returned to the suite the rebels had been given, where Willow was busy arranging plates on the dining table and Buffy was folding away her travelling cloak.
“What’d he say?” she asked lightly as Tara came into view. The blonde opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated and shrugged.
“What?” Willow asked, turning at the silence and frowning as she saw the unease in Tara’s face. She hurried over and took one of Tara’s hands, lightly squeezing it. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Tara nodded. “Just... thinking things over.” She sat beside Willow, while Buffy took over table duties and served up dinner, and briefly recounted her conversation with Keldor.
“I suppose I never really thought about what She-Ra looks like from the other side,” she said finally. “Bringing the world down around her - around me.” Buffy glanced at Willow, who had nodded suddenly, comprehension dawning on her face.
“Set apart from everything else?” the witch asked. Tara nodded too, with a hint of a relieved smile.
“I don’t know why it rattled me like that,” she admitted.
“It’s what the Horde always
tried to be,” Willow suggested. “Lords, not people. And it made it easier to treat people like things.”
“You’d never do that,” Buffy insisted.
“You really wouldn’t,” Willow agreed. “Keldor saw... something you could do, something you -
we - had to do, to save Queen Joy, to free the world from the Horde. It was a rough wake-up to the Horde not being invincible like they always wanted everyone to think, but that’s not who you
are.”
“She-Ra’s a lot of power to wield,” Tara said softly, although the tension was already melting out of her shoulders.
“She’s a lot more than power,” Willow replied. “She’s hope, and... courage, and kindness. She’s all that because she’s you.”
“Thanks,” Tara smiled, leaning close to Willow to brush her lips over the redhead’s.
“I don’t get a kiss?” Buffy joked. Tara laughed, rolled her eyes, and leaned over to give her a peck on the cheek.
“You’re the most connected person I know,” Buffy said as Tara leaned back. “To everyone - friends, or complete strangers. You care. That’s you being you.”
“Thank you,” Tara said.
“Calling it like I see it,” Buffy said, obviously touched in spite of her breezy tone. “So what do you think of Keldor - in terms of us versus Entrapta? We can rely on him?”
“To fight for the Queen,” Tara suggested, poking at her dinner with a fork. “Or what she represents, I suppose - he was raised like any conscript, taught that the Horde was unstoppable, and then that faith was broken. He doesn’t want to go back to that life, he said as much - and I don’t think he would even if he could, if there wasn’t the bad blood between him and Entrapta. Evelyn is part of the new world, in his eyes - serving her is like regaining some of what he lost, his old life, but without being tied to a power he’s already seen fail.”
She paused before going on.
“I understand that,” she admitted, glancing at Willow. “When you freed me... I had no idea who I was, only that what I’d always believed, been taught, was just lies. Love... friendship,” she looked at Buffy, “those were true. And the Rebellion, Brightmoon, everything. I am who I am because those are the things I made part of myself, after I left the Horde behind. And I believe in all of it. But in those early days, I
needed it - something, anything, to find, to help me understand my place in the world. I’m lucky it was you.” She frowned slightly, thoughtful. “Keldor must still feel like I did then, I think he does.”
“Serving Evelyn is all he’s got,” Buffy mused.
“He must’ve been a godsend to her when he showed up,” Willow said. “We talked to a couple of the kitchen staff. Just briefly, most of them kind of tried to stay out of our way. The Queen freed them, pays them out of the treasury Dreer built up for himself, but they’ve lived their whole lives as slaves. It wasn’t just Dreer either, the maid said it used to be the only time a noble ever paid any attention to a ‘serf’ it was to punish them. That fear’s still there - if Evelyn lost control, they’re worried things’d go right back to how they were.”
“Maybe - I mean, you’d hope - in time the commoners will be ready to rally around her, more visibly,” Buffy put in. “At the moment that still feels like a risk, and they’ve had a long time seeing people who take risks get locked up. Or worse.”
“I got that impression,” Tara nodded. “Keldor made it sound like it’s just... just him and Evelyn, alone.”
“It’s lonely at the top even in Brightmoon,” Buffy frowned. “And mum’s got me, Giles, the court - even the worst of them’s basically just trying to puff up their ego... From all we’ve seen Evelyn’s ‘court’ is practically another hostile force, on top of Entrapta. Best you can say is at the moment they’re afraid of her more than they hate her.”
“Do you think that threat will fade?” Tara wondered. “In time?”
“Maybe,” Buffy said, unease in her voice. “That kind of... changing the political climate, it’s something mum’s been strategising about since we started forming alliances with the other realms, the ones that’ve had the Horde on their doorstep, or occupying them outright. We’ve talked about ways to undo what the Horde did, creating divisions at the top to keep vassal states weak.”
“Hordak liked his underlings competing with one another,” Tara said sourly. “He’d say it was to make them stronger, but it kept anyone from being able to challenge him safely. Officers like General Sunder, who actually had loyalty from their own camps, he watched like he expected betrayal at any moment.”
“Sucky way to live,” Buffy frowned. “But that’s what most of Etheria has
had to live with, for years - decades here in the Horde heartland - and the ones who didn’t adapt to it, or go underground and escape... they’re not around anymore. Backstabbing’s become a survival instinct. And keeping that instinct suppressed by force from the top, that’s problematic in the long run as well, sends all the wrong signals.” She sighed. “It’s all a balancing act. I really like problems I can just throw light beams at.”
“You’ll have plenty of those tomorrow,” Willow said. Buffy chuckled ruefully.
“Yay. Well, one problem at a time, and yeah, at least that one’s straightforward.” She gave the other two a grin. “I’ll take the maid’s room, the bed’s comfy enough.”
“You’re sure?” Willow asked.
“What would I do with a king-sized bed? Now if Liam was here too, we’d be having a different discussion.” She gave an amused snort as Willow and Tara blushed faintly. “You two just remember to get some rest - lots of plant magic to do tomorrow, and if it all falls apart, we’ll need She-Ra to swoop in and save the day at the last minute. You know, standard stuff.”
“I’ll be ready,” Tara agreed, with a smile. “If it comes to that.”
Some time later - a
little more time later than intended, but a ‘quick’ bath together before bed had taken its inevitable course - Willow and Tara lay nestled together, comfortably insulated from the cool night air by layers of blankets.
“Tomorrow’s not going to be easy,” Tara whispered, before the drowsy aftermath of their exertions had shifted into a prelude to sleep.
“Having to stay back?” Willow guessed.
“I know you can look after yourself,” Tara nodded. “But I’m not used to
not doing my part.”
“You’ll be there with me,” Willow smiled, pressing Tara’s hand between her breasts. “Here, like always.” Tara smiled too, and gently kissed the back of Willow’s neck. Willow nestled a little further into her relaxed hold, and Tara reminded herself they did need sleep, no matter how good Willow’s bottom felt cosying up to her.
“You know Buffy’s right,” Willow said after a moment. “You connecting with people, caring. I don’t think that’s something you of all people will ever have to worry about.”
“I know,” Tara replied.
“But I’ll be there, if you need me to be,” Willow said. She looked back over her shoulder, only able to see Tara as a silhouette in the faint starlight from the window, but feeling her gaze. “The Whispering Woods doesn’t really
see people, individually - we’re too fast, and mostly what we do is too small for the forest to really be aware of. I help bridge that gap. So...” She paused, finding the right words. “I know power, on that scale - She-Ra scale, in a way.
If I’m ever worried you’re not... keeping it in balance - which I’m certain you can, but
if - I promise I’ll bring you back. I will.”
“I know you will,” Tara agreed, feeling a last little bit of tension melt away. “Willow... thank you, love.”
“All part of being a good wife,” Willow smiled, resting her head back on the pillows, and murmuring contentedly as Tara’s lips pressed against her neck again, and stayed there for a long, still kiss before she whispered: “The best.”
Queen Evelyn’s apartments were still brightly lit by torches when Keldor was shown in, but he found himself alone once the Praetorian by the outer door had closed it to return to its post.
“Highness?” he called.
“Enter,” Evelyn’s voice came from one of the inner chambers.
“My troops are entrenching the armour squadrons as discussed,” he began, crossing the guest room to the connecting door, “and all shall be prepared by-”
He cut himself off with a hiss of breath as he drew the curtain back from the archway, to find Evelyn regarding him levelly from her bed, still wearing her boots and vambraces, but otherwise quite naked.
“I am sure you have preparations well in hand,” she said. “But I did not ask you here to report.”
“Highness...?” he asked, slowly standing to attention as Evelyn rose from the bed and walked towards him.
“I make myself plain, I’m sure,” she said, with the ghost of a smile. “Even with our best efforts, tomorrow may be our last day. Your stalwart support and wise counsel has sustained me of late, when I had no other to rely upon.”
“Highness, surely...” Keldor began, hesitating and turning his head away.
“I do not say this as your Queen,” Evelyn said quietly. “Please understand, I would never-”
“No, of course,” he shook his head. “I know, Highness.”
“Have I mistaken your gaze upon me?”
“I... No. Highness. You have not.”
“Then what?” She stood in front of him, arms at her sides. “I ask only for honesty.” Keldor took a deep breath.
“Forgive my speaking of such matters,” he said, forcing his voice to stay level as he met her stare, “but I imagined you would... have no want for the touch of men. After...” He grimaced and looked away again, closing his eyes, only to open them at the feel of a hand on his cheek.
“The Duke was no man,” she said, drawing his eyes back to her. “Does it weigh on your mind that I served him?”
“Highness,” Keldor replied, his voice wavering. “You are... the only thing in my life
not touched by the Horde’s corruption.” He frowned. “But I cannot say the same of myself.”
“Are we so different?” Evelyn asked. Keldor remained silent, but when she brought her other hand to his face and guided him to her lips, he offered no resistance.