Chapter Text
Autumn, 1832, Grayskull Castle
11:52 p.m.
“Our daughter and son are counting on us!”
“And whose problem is that?” The cackling of Shadow Weaver's laughter was wicked, resembling a hyena calling in the dead of night. It echoed through the room, filling everyone with dread and sending chills down their spine.
Randor grasped onto Marlena’s arm, holding her as he steadied himself. Groups and groups of palace guards charged at the sorceress, yet, many of them were defeated by the demonic creatures she had conjured.
The atmosphere in the throne room was tense as the Queen and King struggled to catch their breath. Fear was etched across their faces as they contemplated the possibility of Shadow Weaver's ultimate victory and the land falling under her control. The Queen took a tentative step forward, her heart pounding in her chest as she summoned the courage to confront the powerful sorceress.
"What do you really want, Shadow Weaver?" she asked, trying to sound composed despite the terror that gripped her.
Shadow Weaver's lips twisted into a wicked smirk, and her eyes gleamed with a malevolent glint. With each step she took forward, her demons effortlessly overpowered the guards, leaving them powerless against her.
"Have I not been clear enough?" With a deadly undertone, Shadow Weaver continued. "I desire power. Power over everyone and everything in this land!”
As Shadow Weaver's words lingered in the air like a foreboding cloud, the room became silent. Everyone turned in surprise when a voice abruptly broke the silence. It was Light Hope, the most renowned sorceress in the land of Eternia with Shadow Weaver a close second in terms of power. “Your Majesties, do not give in.” Her appearance was ethereal and holographic as she shimmered in the low light. She had served the royal family for as long as anybody could remember.
"Your downfall lies in your lust for power, Shadow Weaver," stated Light Hope, directing her spell towards her foe. As the magic engulfed the air, the guards were awed by the incredible might of the sorceress.
Like a lightning bolt, the spell Light Hope had been crafting exploded and Shadow Weaver found herself in its direct path. The powerful impact sent her flying backwards and she landed on the ground with a loud crash.
Her victory assured, the ethereal sorceress Light Hope blazed with fury as she told Shadow Weaver to flee and never come back. She dealt a final blow by cursing her child with a life of unlovability.
Before Shadow Weaver could even fully enjoy the sound of her laugh, a spell was cast, sending her reeling backward. "I adopted Catra several years ago," she exclaimed through her chuckles, "That child isn't even mine!
Shadow Weaver's laughter filled the room and reverberated with a twisted joy as she hastily fled. She continued to cackle wildly as the palace guards closed in, savouring her own twisted humour. Her laughing increased in volume with each stride she made, serving as a disturbing reminder of her malicious nature. Even after she managed to escape captivity, the echoes of her uncanny laughter continued to linger. It served as a sharp reminder of the mayhem she had caused and the long-lasting effects she would leave in her wake.
Winter, 1836, Grayskull Castle’s Garden
10:00 a.m.
With great attention, Adora held the pencil tightly in her petite grasp. She carefully drew precise designs and lines, barely touching the paper's surface with the tip. Seemingly lost in thought, her furrowed brow suggested a deep concentration as her eyes jumped back and forth between reality and her vivacious imagination. As she worked, intricate details and vibrant colours sprang from her mind and became a reality on the page, creating a world that seemed almost lifelike.
Approaching his sister, Adam chimed, "Hi 'Dora!" As he settled onto the soft mat beside her, his eyes sparkled with excitement. Reaching for a crayon, he eagerly began his own unique artistic creation. Bold and free strokes quickly formed a captivating and colourful drawing, perfectly reflecting his vibrant spirit.
Adora's high-pitched voice broke the silence, and there was a hint of excitement in her words, "Our sixth birthday is a few days away." Her voice was full of anticipation, knowing that her special day would be full of gifts and cheers.
Suddenly, Adam's calm demeanour turned into a high-pitched scream, causing Adora to lose focus and make her heart beat faster. Adora watched her brother run towards the palace, flailing his arms wildly in the air, her brow furrowed in confusion and concern. Adora couldn't help but roll her eyes, watching her brother's overreaction, then turned around to see what was causing it.
"Ghoooooooost!" Adora yelled, her voice shaking with fear and wonder as she and Adam ran across the castle. The sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall intermingles with her laughter and screams, creating a cacophony of youthful energy and excitement that accompanies her on her exciting adventures.
At the same time, after walking all the way to the forest separated by the fence of the castle garden, Catra, whom was hiding behind a few trees, lowered her head in disappointment, and a sad shadow was cast on her face. The disheartened Magicat watched the two children run away after seeing them, and felt the pain of rejection and longing deep in his chest. "Not again," she murmured, barely audibly. She couldn't help but wonder why the other kids never seemed to want to play with her. With a heavy sigh and a forlorn expression, Catra turned away, leaving the lingering sound of Adora and Adam’s screams.
The child walked away slowly and tediously, looking melancholy. Catra couldn't help but let out another breath. The disappointment was clearly visible on her face as she looked back at the scene they left behind. "I wonder," she murmured softly, with a hint of sorrow in her voice, "if Mother had any friends back then." Her words wandered in the dark forest, carrying the weight of unspeakable loneliness and longing, continuing her lonely journey, finding solace in her own thoughts.
Winter, 1846, Grayskull Castle
2:06 p.m.
Hey there, Journal! :)
Guess what? It's been 17 days since I turned 16! Not exactly the happiest time with the whole Horde taking over the Fright Zone thing, but hey, I'll take any reason to celebrate. Can't help but feel a bit upset about the whole invasion though. I wonder how Princess Scorpia and her family are holding up right now. On a positive note, Mom and Dad agreed to let me train like a real soldier! Maybe, just maybe, I’ll have the chance to lead my own battles one day.
Until next time,
Adora
Under her journal entry, the princess then sketched an illustration of herself defeating the Horde.
As Adora poured herself into her artwork, sudden disruptions shattered the peaceful atmosphere around her. Pounding footsteps echoed through palace hallways as frantic guards raced past her open door with firm determination etched onto their faces.
Adora abruptly got up from her bed, her chest pounding like a drum. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, accompanied by distressed cries that caused her stomach to knot with anxiety. She knew this disturbance was not ordinary and feared that something terrible had occurred.
Adora was determined to uncover the source of the chaos and despair that enveloped her. An unrelenting conviction prompted her to follow a trail of guards down the corridor, as questions swarmed in her mind. Her anxiety built with every step she took in the hallway that led to her parents' room.
Adora had expected tension upon reaching this particular corridor but wasn't quite prepared for how it would manifest itself; an all-encompassing sense of tragedy that weighed heavily on everyone present. Her footsteps faltered as she sensed there was something terrible awaiting inside that room; every breath drawn became harder than it should have been as tears pricked at her eyes with unspoken grief from within those walls.
Cries muffled by sturdy shoulders nearby spoke volumes just how excruciating each moment felt for them too. Everything about this scene seemed overwhelming - even the dimly lit hallways flickered desolately against stony faces etched in sorrow.
The scene that met her as she rounded the corner gave her an unpleasant surprise. Dozens of guards stood in front of the door, their faces contorted with shock and anguish. Even worse, one of them was sobbing openly while holding a maid in his arms and begging her to wake up.
Adora's gut tightened as she realised that something genuinely dreadful must have happened within her parents' chamber. The air was dense with a sense of dread and fear.
The sounds of sobbing and groaning grew louder as she drew closer to the door, making each step feel like an eternity. Adora was on the verge of bursting forward to see what had happened as her heart was in her throat.
One of the guards eventually managed to utter, "Princess Adora," their voice shaking with a mixture of sadness and worry. "You mustn't go in there."
Adora, however, couldn't bring herself to take the words to heart. She pushed through the slightly ajar door with a mix of anxiety and determination, her heart thumping in her chest as she entered the space. In an instant, the scene in front of her devastated her life and confirmed her darkest fear.
Her loving parents, Queen Marlena and King Randor, were there, hung from a ceiling beam, their lifeless bodies swaying ever so slightly, locked in place by the firm grasp of a rope around their necks. The horrific physical signs of the unfathomable violence they had experienced were the marks on their flesh.
Adora's throat tightened as she struggled to breathe, threatening to scream in agony. In an effort to retain her composure and make sure that this horrifying picture wasn't just a fiction of her broken imagination, she struggled against it and forced herself to take it in. Although her thoughts were racing and she was trying to make sense of the chaotic scene in front of her, her attention was riveted on the dead bodies of her parents.
Despite the whirling motion of action going on around her, Adora's vision grew smaller at that very moment as she focused on the horrific scene that would remain in her memory forever. She could only see her parents, who were tragically still in the midst of a bustling room full of people whose voices were a cacophony of grief and confusion.
Adora was overcome by an unrelenting wave of shock and distress and stood still, unable to avert her eyes from the loss that suddenly enveloped her. The burden of her grief threatened to break her spirit as it weighed heavy on her shoulders. She came to the understanding that her world would never be the same again in that devastated room.
Adora found herself making a serious and binding pledge amidst the intense sorrow and excruciating pain of losing her parents. She made a promise to honour their memory and treasure the memories they had created together as tears streamed down her face. Adora understood that she had to muster the courage to continue even though the idea of life without them was intolerable.
Even in the face of unfathomable tragedy, she vowed to gather up the broken pieces of her crumbling world and start the difficult process of rebuilding her life. There would be many times of doubt and hopelessness during the long, labourious procedure. But Adora was unwavering in her resolve and had her heart set on escaping this dire situation stronger and more resilient than ever before.
Adora realised the path ahead would be long and challenging as she peered out at the world through her now-clouded eyes of grief. But she was committed to doing her best, one small step at a time, to honour her parents' memory and make them proud. This was the only way ahead for Adora, the only way to move past her pain and find peace in the midst of it.
Winter, 1846, Shadow Weaver’s Cottage
2:16 p.m.
Catra's veins were throbbing with a mixture of fatigue and exhilaration as her heart pounded in her chest. She found it hard to believe. She had finally triumphed against the one person who had always been a thorn in her side after innumerable hardships and battles. Shadow Weaver, her formerly strong and cunning mother, lay lifeless and broken in front of her. Catra's heart leaped with joy at the sight, and a triumphant grin spread across her face.
She had been held back for far too long by Shadow Weaver, who had used her as a pawn in her nefarious games. However, no longer. Catra was confident in her ability to succeed after exceeding all odds and expectations.
Catra, however, was unable to ignore the gravity of what she had just done as the adrenaline started to wear off. She had never imagined she would have to deal with the burden of taking a life. The sensation of control that she had long yearned for yet coursed through her with an irresistible thrill.
Catra, the victor of her own fate, stood strong and defiant at that precise moment. She had overcome the person who had always had the upper hand, and she was now celebrating her newfound independence. She had been moulded during the years of manipulation and abuse, but they had also made her into an intimidating opponent.
She tossed the bloodied knife aside as the sound of its metallic clang against Shadow Weaver's lifeless body resounded throughout the space. A combination of satisfaction and defiance resonated in the sound. She hissed, her teeth tightened, "You always underestimated me, Shadow Weaver," her voice brimming with rage and pleasure. "Now, look who's on top."
The bittersweet nature of Catra's success served as a metaphor for both her deepest wishes and her unwavering resolve. Although she was aware that she had freed herself from the chains of her past, the road ahead was uncertain. She was prepared to forge her own way and take up her proper position, no longer living under the influence of someone else's dominance.
Winter, 1846, Shadow Weaver’s Cottage
5:43 a.m.
“Why the fuck can't she manage these simple tasks on her own?” Catra's voice was tinged with irritation, and every syllable conveyed her frustration. The early hour just amplified her annoyance and made her tone more sour.
Catra struggled to understand why she was required to perform these menial tasks when Shadow Weaver was spared from them. Her objections were spurred by the injustice of everything, and each one emphasised her escalating dissatisfaction.
Her brows furrowed in resolve as she grudgingly carried out her task, her frown growing in intensity. She had clearly reached her breaking point and was tired of the never-ending loop of mundane activities that appeared to define her life. She had a huge burden of responsibility on her shoulders, which dampened her normally exuberant attitude.
Catra's voice grew louder as she expressed her discontent with everything's unfairness, carrying a mix of rebellion and irritation. Her complaints seemed to be absorbed by the crisp morning air, which carried them into the silence while leaving a distinct unruly atmosphere behind.
Why should I be imprisoned here, rising up at the crack of dawn to deal with this never-ending bullshit while Shadow Weaver gets to relax? Simply put, it's unfair." Every one of her remarks resounded throughout the peaceful morning, bearing witness to her growing dissatisfaction and desire for a better kind of existence.
Catra's complaints became louder with each passing second, a cascade of unhappiness that echoed through the air, a brazen symphony that dared to question the existing order.
You would undoubtedly be surprised by the unusual scene that would greet you when you enter Shadow Weaver's room, which was decorated with dark hues and a mystic atmosphere. A group of potted plants with beautiful blossoms stood out proudly in the darkness and shadows. It was a strange contrast to Shadow Weaver's customarily sombre demeanour. The little girl couldn't help but frown with distaste and murmur, "Disgusting."
Catra was given the tedious duty of cleaning even though Shadow Weaver's chamber was in spotless shape. It was as though her mother couldn't bear to see her taking a brief break. With its stark walls and well organised furniture, the room's simple layout made it very clear that there wasn't much to clean. As Catra carefully dusted the few items that actually required attention, her thoughts started to stray. She casually questioned whether her mother's fixation with organisation was simply an effort to take control of something, anything, in her life.
She hit her head on the sharp corner of a low-hanging shelf as she stretched up to dust a high shelf. Pain shot through her skull, and she yelped softly. She quickly reached up to soothe her irritated area when her eyes spotted a little, brown box hidden behind a pile of books.
Catra was intrigued and cautiously approached the box as if she was afraid that it might suddenly come to life and attack her. She gently withdrew the box from its hiding spot with nervous hands and gave it a thorough inspection. It was an ordinary wooden box with no decorations or markings. However, something about it looked strange, as if it had no business being in this space at all.
Catra thought, appreciative of her feline instincts and excellent vision, that it was pure luck. She could have missed the hidden treasure if she did not have the remarkable abilities of a Magicat.
She mumbled under her breath, "Locked," her voice tinted with discontent. Her sigh carried her characteristic attitude, a subdued expression of her defiant personality. She grabbed a black bobby pin from Shadow Weaver's table, seizing the opportunity to challenge the barrier before her.
Catra deftly manoeuvred the bobby pin, teasing at the obstinate lock, with quick fingers and a hint of disdain. Every action she made was tinged with hope that she would be able to find out the things that were being kept from her. As soon as Catra was determined, the lock finally gave in with a satisfying click.
Catra saw the folded parchments hidden among a sea of abandoned trinkets, and her eyes widened in a mixture of expectation and incredulity. Every crease and crackle revealed a tale, and she was aware that this was no ordinary find. A letter written to Light Spinner prior to her transformation into Shadow Weaver was found within the box, and then there was a birth certificate.
Catra carefully unfolded the old letter, releasing its secrets to the world, with regard, as though touching a priceless relic. She carefully read the letter, taking care not to omit any sentences.
Light Spinner,
We would like to thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the loving embrace you gave to the beloved Princess. A child losing their parents before the memory of their love has even been carved upon their sensitive psyche is a heartbreaking tragedy. It was truly heartwarming how C'yra and Luna used to refer to her as their adorable kitten, Catra. As a symbol of the greatness exhibited by Princess C'yra II's late mothers, Queens C'yra I and Luna, we leave our faith in your capable hands and entrust you with the sacred task of raising and protecting her.
May the echoes of their noble spirits serve as your guides as you help to mould the destiny of our beloved Princess. We implore you to create an environment that is filled with love, courage, and knowledge so that her beautiful presence may grow like a bright blossom in her lineage's garden. Let the rich tapestry of her family engulf her young heart, and may your advice be a steady light that will guide her through the difficulties that lie ahead.
We implore the Light Spinner to take on this honourable role with the fullest commitment, with unwavering respect and unshakeable faith. May your gentle touch help our cherished Princess develop resilience, compassion, and steadfast grace as you manage the delicate role of mentor and guardian.
In humble unity and steadfast regard,
The Council of Elders
Then, as she regarded the birth certificate in front of her, it seemed as though time had frozen and everything had vanished. The parchment was fragile, old, and its edges had become yellow with time. A tribute to the care and clarity with which it had been composed was the exquisite calligraphy that danced across the page.
She examined the diminishing writing, her feelings racing at every little detail. There was no sign of the notorious sorceress Shadow Weaver or the mysterious Light Spinner in the column that listed her biological parents.
C'yra and Luna, on the other hand, stood out proudly as if challenging her to discover the secrets of her history. Who were they, and how did their involvement in her turbulent journey come about? Her heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety as her mind raced with possibilities and unresolved questions.
"Ugh, as if I didn't already know that Shadow Weaver and I were from completely different dimensions. I mean, duh, it's not like we were ever close or anything."
Catra's eyes widened in shock as she read more of the document. Even the facade of her alleged identity as "Catrina" was a lie. She discovered more information as she looked more closely at the birth certificate she was holding in her hands. Was this document from a royal family, bearing the inscription, "From the Royal Castle of D'riluth, Half-Moon"?
And what further unexpected details would this birth certificate present after "C'yra Elizabeth II"?
Luna and C'yra. Catra's head echoed the names of the strangers she had never heard of, yet a burning purpose was stirring deep within her. She resisted Shadow Weaver's grasp for all time, and the mere concept of leaving was suddenly enticing in an odd way. The chance of escaping the complex web of lies drew her in, luring her to learn the truth and forge her own course, despite the dangers.
Winter, 1846
7:00 a.m.
Entrapta.
The geek princess had an uncanny knack for finding people and things and learning everything there was to know about them.
Catra frequently caught glimpses of Entrapta through the window at the strangest hours of the day due to her constant tinkering and odd experiments. It appeared as though Entrapta's insatiable curiosity knew no bounds.
It didn't take long for Catra to be lured by a sudden explosion, where she discovered Entrapta once more surrounded by her devoted robot friends.
"Hey, Entrapta."
Entrapta almost dropped the recorder she was carrying as she yelped in surprise. "Catra!" she exclaimed, putting her recorder away as her hair lifted her off the ground and drew her nearer to Catra. "Didn't see ya there!"
Catra took in the sight of Entrapta, a sly grin playing on her lips. Even after 18 years, the eccentric IT wiz was still her only true friend.
Catra had never felt lonely when Entrapta was around. They went on endless adventures and misadventures together, whether it was making fun of their own unintentional explosions or setting off on missions to find antiquated artefacts. Undoubtedly, Catra had learned a few things from their lengthy friendship. Unfortunately, she would always have to sneak out just to meet her.
Entrapta's eccentricity gave Catra a sense of familiarity and delight in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty. Their relationship had stood the test of time, demonstrating that genuine friendship could last even in the most unlikely situations.
Catra pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and stated urgently, "I found something that's got me all worked up, and I could really use your genius brain to unravel the mystery." She handed it to Entrapta carefully, eager for her expertise.
As Entrapta looked through the document, her eyes grew wider and a trace of bewilderment could be seen on her face. Her mind was probably already humming with computations behind that front, though. She murmured, "A birth certificate," with a hint of interest in her voice.
Catra and Entrapta locked eyes, and Catra's eyes caught a spark of resolve. She said, her voice full of longing and a yearning for answers, "It's my birth certificate. "I need you to help me find out about my birth parents."
Her identity's weight and the need to satisfy her heart's void hung heavily in the air at that very time. Catra was aware that Entrapta's unrivalled intelligence and unrelenting curiosity were her best chances at learning the secrets concealed within those document's pages. She awaited Entrapta's reply with a mixture of hope and apprehension, aware that their quest for the truth had only just begun.
Winter, 1845
1:15 p.m.
"And Etheria will be gone if we don't act fast!" Mara's words reverberated through the strained air as her voice quivered with urgency.
Serenia begged Mara to calm down, her voice trembling with worry.
Light Hope, hiding behind the cover of the nearby trees, noticed Grayskull, the rebel squadron. At the centre of it all was Mara, her heart and soul. Light Hope loved her very much, but the weight of desperation pressed down on her, making her wonder where love belonged in the struggle for survival.
Mara clutched herself, tears welling up inside her eyes. Her willpower was in danger of crumbling under the weight of the impending catastrophe.
A tough decision would be made in this crucial situation involving a loved-and-cherished woman and a valued place. Someone dear to Mara would betray her, and the anguish of that knowledge tore at Light Hope's heart.
She wanted to be Mara's ally rather than her foe, to protect her from suffering. However, the First Ones' threatening might and towering presence tipped the scales against them.
In this terrible struggle for survival, the border between ally and enemy blurred, and the stakes had never been higher. She desperately wanted to protect Etheria and the love she felt for Mara. Light Hope was left with a bittersweet ache as she realised the difficult and unknown route ahead.
"You're going to help us."
"You don't really love Mara,"
"If you dare try to leave us, we'll make sure that you won't survive.”
The First Ones had always been skilled manipulators, their cunning plans reaching far beyond the known boundaries of the cosmos. They had aimed to rule over all realms, but they were aware that they couldn't do it alone. As a result, they went for Light Hope, the formerly kind sorceress, and corrupted her allegiance to their goals.
Light Hope was now standing in front of them, a shadow of who she once was. Her eyes had previously been filled with compassion, but they were now troubled. She had been drawn into a web of lies and suffering, becoming a pawn in their game. They have transformed her into a pitiful, troubled soul.
Mara stormed through the front door, her rage visible in every movement. Light Hope greeted her in a relaxed manner as she knew what was coming. "Mara, how was your day?"
Mara replied, "My day went... alright," with a tinge of annoyance remaining in her voice. "What about you, Hope? What did you do today?" As she talked, her face relaxed and the tension vanished as her eyes met those of her spouse.
Light Hope couldn't help but notice Mara's change in attitude. The storm cloud of rage dissipated in the presence of their love, following a predictable pattern. She acknowledged the strength of their bond with a warm smile. Light Hope answered, her words tinged with love, "I spent the day tending to our garden, thinking of you."
Mara said gently "That's nice," and lightly stroked Light Hope's cheeks. She spoke with a trace of eagerness in her voice. "I think I'll go take a bath now."
A feeling of unease swept over Light Hope as she got up from her chair. Her normally calm countenance was marked with worry and concern as she felt the burden of her responsibility pressing down on her.
She called out Mara's name in a low tone that was tinged with fear as her heart was racing.
Mara suddenly turned to look at her wife, her eyes watching with interest. The words of Light Hope floated in the air. If one paid close attention, they could notice the little furrow in her brow and the flutter in her hands.
Light Hope cautiously said, "The First Ones, Mara," fumbling for the correct words. "I've been considering them recently. What if we choose to follow them?
Light Hope saw Mara's face twist into a strange, disturbing smile, and a shiver ran down her spine. She wasn't sure if the smile was one of approval or of derision. Only the sound of their breathing could be heard amid the eerie silence.
"Join the First Ones?" With equal parts amusement and surprise, Mara repeated incredulously. Light Hope inhaled deeply and made an effort to express her ideas, but Mara's words pierced the air like a blade before she could finish.
The words were uncompromising, abrupt, and brutal. Light Hope's smile evaporated, replaced by a startled and perplexed expression. Was this really happening? Was Mara genuinely seeking a divorce?
Mid-sentence and mid-movement, Light Hope stopped as though stuck in time. Her aura, which was typically a soothing blue, had changed to an enraged red. Her voice was tinged with scepticism as she inquired, "Excuse me, could you repeat that?"
As Mara hesitantly took a step back and kept her eyes on the figure in front of her, her heart began to pound with uneasiness. Mara felt stuck and helpless as Light Hope seized hold of her and stopped her from moving.
"You're not Light Hope," She tried to break free of the other's hold, but Light Hope's hold simply became tighter like a vice, keeping Mara fixed in place. Mara's mind raced with anxiety as the tension in the air crackled.
Light Hope replied, "But I am Light Hope, Mara," With a gentle smile on her lips and a soothing voice. She said, almost as if trying to persuade Mara of something she didn't believe in, "It's your destiny to join the First Ones and help them."
Mara felt her feelings swell as she stared into Light Hope's eyes. She wanted to cry because she was so hurt, frightened, and betrayed. She thought about all the years she had spent in this marriage, leading up to this one moment.
A feeling of dread began creeping up Light Hope's spine as she stared into Mara's eyes. Mara's expression was stiff, and her eyes were filled with a firm resolve that made it apparent she wouldn't be persuaded. They both appeared to be experiencing the same level of tension, which was clearly present. "You love me, Mara!" Light Hope screamed inconsolably.
Mara replied right away, "Fuck off!" She attempted to escape her grasp by pushing her away. Light Hope shoved her, stopping her in her tracks, forcing her to fall backwards.
The universe appeared to be holding its breath in anticipation of what would happen next as time appeared to come to a stop. The only sound in the room was Light Hope's sobbing, which seemed to vibrate through the very air and bounced off the walls. The weight of the situation felt almost intolerable as Light Hope held Mara's lifeless body in her arms.
It was sorrowful to see Mara's still body, and the pool of blood that was forming around her head served as a sobering reminder of how serious the situation was. The weight of the circumstance seemed oppressive, like if a nightmare had come to life. Holding Mara close caused Light Hope's arms to shake as if trying to miraculously revive her with her willpower.
The moments before this particular event were a haze. Mara and Light Hope had been engaged in an argument that had become more tense. Then, in an instant, a terrible mistake had been made. The room reverberated with the sound of a huge thump, which was followed by the horrifying image of Mara's body crumbling to the floor.
Light Hope's thoughts were a frenzied mess of fear and hopelessness as her mind raced. She was aware that the First Ones would execute her without hesitation if she was unable to conjure up a plausible explanation for her actions.
She swiftly turned her focus back to Mara, who was lying still on the ground. Realising that her wife might never wake up again, Light Hope's heart fell. As if trying to get Mara to wake up, she crouched down next to her and whispered her name. She pleaded, scarcely raising her voice above a whisper, "Mara, please wake up." However, there was no reaction or movement. Mara, who was lying there motionless like a doll, served as a chilling reminder of the horror that had just occurred.
Hours passed, and Light Hope awoke from crying herself to sleep, still cradling Mara in her arms. She realised Mara was no longer there with anguish in her eyes. She muttered, "Mara," with more tears running down her face. "If I don't find someone else, The First Ones will kill me."
She stood up after placing the unconscious Mara on the ground gently. She noticed someone through the window when she turned her head. A blonde girl playing with a… sword? Wait… that’s Adora! Light Hope gasped, fearing Adora may see what had happened within the room. A thought came to her as she struggled to hide Mara's body and keep up the appearance of normalcy.
Light Hope muttered to herself, her eyes bright with a renewed hope, "Mara... Adora." Maybe there is a solution.
Even though she knew it wouldn't be simple, she was prepared to go to any lengths for her own sake.
In the quiet moments of the night,
I sense a stirring in my soul.
A feeling that I cannot fight,
A fear that I cannot control.
For change is coming, that I know,
And I must prepare myself to go.
To leave behind the life I've known,
And face the future all alone.
But in this fear, I find my strength,
To face the journey, no matter the length.
For though the path ahead is unknown,
I'll walk it bravely, and make it my own.