Chapter Text
I remember being really young and telling my mom that when I’m outside and it’s quiet, I can hear the day moon sing. And I remember her telling me the day moon doesn’t sing and that even if it did, I wouldn’t be able to hear it. But what I remember most was that when I tried to sing the song for her, I couldn’t get it right. I got so frustrated and I tried over and over again but it didn’t sound the way it was supposed to.
Then she said, “Sweetheart, go bother your father.”
I didn’t. I went outside and practiced singing along with the day moon. Alone.
I still hear it. I can hear it right now in the silence of the empty dorm with my window open. And when it’s this quiet the song is almost loud.
It’s my favorite sound.
Well, one of them.
“Catra!” I lift my head at the sound of someone yelling my name down the hall. Well, not someone. I’d know that voice anywhere. It’s my other favorite sound. “Catra, where are you?”
I roll my eyes. She’s been to my dorm room a dozen times now. She has no excuse to be lost. But I can hear her footsteps pounding against the smooth waxed floors. She’s running, full speed, and I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before she crashes into something. Probably the wall at the end of the hall.
“Catra!”
“I’m in here, dummy!” I yell, and seconds later a streak of yellow rushes past.
With a squeal and—by the sound of it—a stumble, Adora comes to a halt. It’s only a moment and then she’s bounding through my doorway with a glaringly bright smile on her face.
Mara, sometimes I can barely even look at her.
“Hey!” she jumps onto the foot of my bed and I nearly drop my book she jostles me so damn much. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I arch a brow. “I heard.”
She flushes a little bit, picking at the collar of her uniform. It’s unfair how good she looks in it, the way the yellow makes her skin glow and the fabric hugs her chest. Our uniform is the same except for the color: a long sleeved and high collared jumpsuit with a horde issued belt at the waist and loose, tapered legs. There’s not a lot of modification allowed, though Class Officers have little badges that they wear over their hearts. Adora always has her sleeves rolled up. So do I, and if you asked I’d say I did it ‘cause I didn’t wanna look like every other dork in this place. But I’d be lying if I said Adora had nothing to do with it.
A little flash of silver catches my eye and I focus in on the sword pendant that Adora wears around her neck. I guess the dress code allows for those too. A few other students wear them, and I have one that matches Adora’s exactly, but the Sword of Protection never really made sense as jewelry to me. When I see Mara’s sword I always just feel sad.
“You know,” I start, marking my place in my book, some deep dive into Prime’s original manifesto that I was reading for my Gospel Lyricism class, “not only is running in the halls against the rules, but we’re halfway through the semester.” I set the book down and cross my arms over my stomach. “You really should know where my room is by now.”
Adora sighs and drops her hands to her side in overplayed exasperation. “All the halls in this building look the same!”
I cock my head. “Literally every single one has a different mural painted on the wall.”
She groans and falls onto her back. “And I can never remember what mural is in what hall!”
“The doors are numbered.”
“They blend in with the door.”
“My name is on the door.”
She groans again, throwing her hands over her eyes. “Yeah, but in Common Etherian!”
I smirk. “Can you not read Common Etherian?”
Adora pulls down her hands and frowns. “The letters are too loopy.”
I laugh and a small smile grows on her face. “It’s a dumb rule anyway,” she says, sitting back up. Then her face breaks into a grin and her voice gets quiet. “You know another dumb rule?”
I arch a brow and lean forward. “What?”
She reaches into the pocket of her jumpsuit and pulls out a small glass vial filled with bright green fluid. “No putting hair dye in someone’s shampoo…”
I reach out quickly, grabbing the bottle from Adora’s hands. “Yeah,” I breathe, giving it a little shake, “but some rules are made to be broken.”
Adora’s smile drops into a little pout. “I still don’t know why I can’t drop a bag of knox juice on him.”
“Adora,” I sigh heavily, “you wanted to drop it on him from the dining hall balcony.”
“So?”
I hold up a finger. “One - if the bag doesn’t break open on impact you could break his neck. Two - everyone in a five foot radius would get covered in juice too. And three - everyone would be able to see you. You’d be in a disciplinary council before you could blink.”
Adora smirks. “They’d have to catch me first.”
I shake my head. “Adora, a snail could outrun you.”
“You’ve never even seen a snail.”
“And yet…”
I stand, shoving the bottle of dye into my pocket. “Come on, let’s go ruin Kyle’s day.”
Adora’s smile returns as she stands up beside me. Sometimes I can’t fathom the way she looks at me. It’s almost like… like—
I close my eyes. I shouldn’t think like that. There are rules, and while I’m a Sanctum student I can’t get involved with anyone that way. I shouldn’t feel the way I do about Adora. I’m supposed to be focused on Prime and Mara—on the light and the mission to bring order and truth to all of Etheria. I can’t afford to be distracted by my pretty best friend.
But maybe… maybe after we graduate. When Adora is teaching our histories in Seminary and I’m singing with the High Choir. Maybe then, when it’s allowed, we could be… something.
But right now, I have to keep this to myself. I can’t distract Adora. I can’t be distracted.
She probably wouldn’t want me anyway…
But when she looks at me like that, with that smile, I want it to mean something.
Adora and I are hiding, if you can call it that. There’s a hallway down a little ways from the entrance to the boys’ bathroom and we’re just around the corner. We’re both trying to get a good view, and for a minute that was Adora trying to push me flat against the wall, which wasn’t distracting at all. But now I’m down on my knees, head peeking out, and Adora is standing above me.
“For Mara’s sake,” Adora whispers, “how long does it take to take a shower?”
I scoff and look up at her chin. “For people who actually wash everything? A while.”
Adora drops her gaze to glare at me. “I wash everything.”
“I’ve seen your feet. No, you don’t.”
I turn my attention back to the bathroom and Adora gasps.
“Wha—I can’t believe—”
She’s drowned out by a high pitched scream.
I slap her leg to silence her and watch as Kyle runs out of the bathroom. His hair is a vibrant green and he’s clutching it in his hands, running around in just his towel. Which, apparently, he wears up under his arms.
And that shouldn’t be a big deal, but it’s funny.
I cover my mouth to hold back a laugh and Adora lets out a snort. His hair is so green and he hasn’t really stopped yelling. Maybe he’s trying to say words, but it’s just coming out as gibberish. He’s looking around frantically, and he’s being passed by snickering upperclassmen going in and out of the bathroom. None of them are, like, pointing or anything, but they’re definitely looking at him.
Kyle takes off running. He runs right past the hall Adora and I are hiding in and we both turn to watch. Adora snorts again, which tells me she’s about to bust out laughing, and I throw my hand over her mouth.
She meets my gaze and there are tears in her eyes. She’s holding back so much, and that devious and happy look in her eyes makes my smile even bigger.
“Lonnie!” Kyle cries.
Adora and I freeze, our eyes going wide.
Shit .
“Kyle! What the hell?” Lonnie replies, and we turn very slowly. I drop my hand from Adora’s mouth to grab her wrist. I pull her slowly across the hall and we just listen.
“I don’t know! I was just taking a shower and when I got out my hair was green!”
Lonnie doesn’t respond right away, and Adora and I peek around the corner. Lonnie is standing tall in her blood red jumpsuit, which looks just like mine, with her arms crossed and her lips pursed. Then she reaches out and brushes the wet hair from Kyle’s face.
And for some Maraforsaken reason, this makes Adora gasp.
Everyone and the clergy know how Lonnie feels about Kyle. But not Adora, apparently. Nope. She’s caught off guard.
“Adora?” Lonnie’s eyes narrow in on us and her voice drops. “Catra?”
I close my eyes and bite back a groan.
“Oops,” Adora whispers and I shake my head.
“Yeah, oops.”
“Are you serious?” Lonnie yells. “You dyed his hair green ?”
I open my mouth to give an explanation, any explanation, but I don’t have one. And now Lonnie is charging us.
Adora grabs me by the wrist and pulls me down the hall. I start running. I can hear Lonnie behind us and as I gain speed I realize Adora’s not gonna be able to keep up. Lonnie’s almost as fast as I am.
I pull on Adora’s arm hard . “Come on!” We reach the main lobby and weave through the chairs and sofas. We make it through the glass doors and I glance back at Lonnie one more time.
We still have a chance.
I know Lonnie, and I know that I’m the one she’s really after. She thinks Adora’s too dumb to come up with something like this. She’s wrong, obviously, Adora is kind of an evil genius. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that she’s coming for me.
I pull Adora around the corner, ducking quickly onto the side of the building. This isn’t a good hiding spot by any means, but I don’t need it to be.
“Meet me on the roof of the chapel.”
Adora’s brow furrows. “Wait, what?” She shakes her head and tightens her hold on my hand. “No, we’re not splitting up!”
I can hear the doors at the front of the building crash open.
“Yeah, we are.” I smile a little. “Trust me, okay? I’ll see you there.”
Adora grimaces, but gives me a nod. “Be careful.”
My smile becomes a smirk. “Always am.”
Then I bolt. I run back to the front of the building and down the cobblestone walkway towards the main part of campus. I hear Lonnie yell my name, but I don’t turn to make sure she’s following me. I know she is.
I laugh. I’ll lose her, I know I will.
Adora’s sitting on the stone bench in the center of the chapel’s rooftop garden, and she’s fidgeting. I watch her for a second through the rose bushes just beside her. She’s been playing with her ponytail, I can tell that it’s loose. She’s also been biting her lip. It’s red and full.
For just a second I’m distracted, thinking about how those lips would feel against mine. But only for a second.
Adora’s worried; for no good reason, obviously, but she is. So I step out from behind the bushes and up to the side of the bench.
“Told ya.”
Adora looks up and the relief and joy that I see in her face makes my heart beat harder. “Catra!” She jumps to her feet and throws her arms around me. I never really liked hugs before Adora started hugging me. Honestly, I didn’t like being touched. But when Adora touches me, her hands are careful, like she knows just how powerful they are, but firm like she’s grounding herself in me.
It makes me insane.
“You’re crushing me,” I manage to say despite my face being pressed into Adora’s shoulder.
“I don’t care.” She squeezes me tighter. “I was worried about you.”
I roll my eyes. “It was just Lonnie, Adora. She’s been giving me shit since our first year.”
Adora groans. “Catra…”
I manage to squeeze my hands into the space between us and push her away by the abs. Her firm, warm abs… “Sure, Lonnie can yell curse words at Kyle, but I can’t use them at all.”
Adora, finally, loosens her hold. “Well I can’t make Lonnie stop, she doesn’t listen to me. And now that she’s gonna be made a Class Officer she could actually get you in trouble.”
I scoff. “I don’t listen to you either, dummy.”
Adora sighs and her arms fall away. Sort of. She drags her hands down my arms and wraps her fingers around my wrists like tender handcuffs. “You don’t listen to anyone.”
I grin. “You got that right.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. But she doesn’t let me go. “You don’t think Lonnie can prove it was us who messed with Kyle’s shampoo, do you?”
“Please,” I scoff, “Lonnie wouldn’t turn us in even if she could prove it. Then she’d have to get a new roommate, and she hates our entire class.”
Adora’s eyes go wide. “You think we’d be expelled?”
“Um…” I grimace. “No?”
“Catra!”
I shrug. “I don’t! But I do think Shadow Weaver would take any excuse to expel me.”
Adora frowns, but in that way that means she’s disappointed in me. “Catra, that’s not her name.”
I groan. “It should be. She’s the worst!”
“She’s our High Priestess. We need to be respectful,” she insists.
I laugh out loud. “Seriously? That’s the rule you care about? Kyle’s hair is green, Adora!”
She makes a face and glances at the ground. I worry for a second that I crossed a line. Adora has a really intense relationship with her faith. Her mother defected when she was a kid and her father had already ascended to High Priesthood. She was basically raised by the clergy and she idolizes them. She thinks that just because Light Spinner is a High Priestess everything she does is guided by the teachings of Prime and the spirit of Mara.
I don’t believe that.
But Adora does. And she believes it so much. She defines herself by it. She’s a humble servant of Prime first, and Adora second.
It scares me sometimes, how certain Adora is. Not because it’s bad, but because I’m… less certain. At this point, I think I only believe because Adora does. It’s hard not to when she’s so fucking convinced. My faith is rooted in hers and if Adora wasn’t here…
I don’t know if I would be.
“I… you’re right, Catra.” Adora meets my gaze and it’s like her eyes are burning. “We shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”
I huff and roll my wrists to break Adora’s hold. She lets me go and frowns for just a second till I interlock our fingers. “You didn’t ‘drag me into’ anything. Believe it or not, Adora, I do a lot of stuff because I want to.”
Adora bites her lip. “I know. I just–when Lonnie followed you I realized that you could get in trouble for something I did. And I don’t want that, Catra. I don’t want to hurt you.”
My breath catches in my throat. When Adora says stuff like that—when she says something that means she cares—I almost lose it. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so bad it aches.
I want other things too. Depraved and wicked things that I’m not allowed to want. And I will never admit that I do. Not even to save my own life.
“You’re not capable of hurting me, Adora.” I shake my head and squeeze her hands. I choose my next words carefully. “You’re a goody two shoes people pleaser. And you like me too much.”
I have to spin it like that. I can’t let Adora know what I know—that she’s kind and strong and beautiful. I can’t let her know that she’s good. It would go straight to her head and she’d be even more insufferable than she already is.
And she’d figure out just how much I like her insufferable ass. Which is too much.
I’m not supposed to write songs that aren’t divine. But I’ve written songs about Adora. Songs no one but the day moon will ever hear.
She rolls her eyes and sits on the bench again, pulling me down to sit beside her. “I am not a people pleaser! Or a goody two shoes.” She pauses and starts to fiddle with my fingers. “I do like you though…”
I swallow and it’s tight. “I like you too.”
She lifts her gaze and smiles. But that smile quickly becomes a smirk. “You like me? That’s so embarrassing for you.”
I groan and shove her in the arm. That’s what I get for being vulnerable, or whatever. “I take it back. I do not like you.”
Adora wraps her arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. She musses my hair and laughs. “Yeah you do. You like me.”
I almost growl, but there’s no bite to it. “You’re just the worst…”
Adora slowly relaxes against me and I’m able to lift my head again. But she doesn’t take her arm off my shoulder. When I look at her she’s smiling and staring off over the edge of the roof. You can see all of campus from up here. You can see most of Festal Gorge actually. The buildings are all so white they glow in the setting sun, and the Spire stands tall in the center of the valley.
Everytime I look at it I remember meeting Adora. I was twelve, barely old enough to attend the Annual Communion with Prime, and we were gathering around the Spire waiting for the doors to open. I was wearing my brand new white robes and my mother had just been scolding me for my “disastrous” hair. Then I saw some girl, running around with a stupid grin on her face, handing out handkerchiefs. She had a white bow tied around her ponytail and when she saw me she gasped.
“You’re ears! They’re so cute!”
I almost scratched her eye out.
But my mom gave me a stern look as she took her handkerchief and I crossed my arms. Adora didn’t get the message. She finished handing out hankies and then ran back to stand next to me. She started rambling about how excited she was for the Communion, and that she was barely too young the year before. She told me about her mom defecting and her father being a High Priest, which was why he wasn’t with her now but that she also got to hand out handkerchiefs because of it. She wouldn’t shut up, and when the ceremony started and the crowd started moving towards the door she took my hand.
“Is this okay?” she whispered and my heart did this funny little stutter.
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
She held my hand the entire ceremony.
I hate the Annual Communion. It’s boring and long and the only fun parts are the music. But when I stand with Adora and she holds my hand, it’s almost bearable.
“Catra,” Adora sighs, “can you believe we graduate next year?”
I scoff. “Finally. I feel like we’ve been here forever.”
Adora doesn’t look at me. She just smiles and stares out at the valley. “We’re going to do so much for the Horde. You’re going to be singing in the High Choir and writing hymnals, and I’ll be charged with a Seminary—oh! Or on a Sojourn… teaching our histories to all of Etheria and sharing Prime’s Light…”
She makes it sound almost whimsical. But it’s not.
I bite my lip. “If you’re on a Sojourn we’ll never get to see each other.”
She finally looks up at me and she frowns. I almost feel bad for taking her smile away. “I don’t have to submit for a Sojourn. It was just an idea.” She pulls her arm from my shoulders but lays her hand next to mine and grazes the back of it with her fingertips. “Who knows, maybe I’d be considered for Priesthood.”
I laugh, trying to shake my nerves. I don’t like the idea of Adora going away or being a priestess. If Adora becomes a priestess then—then we can’t—
I shake the thought. That’s stupid. Adora wouldn’t… she wouldn’t want that anyway.
Besides that, there isn’t a soul on this campus who thinks I could practice the gospel without Adora keeping me in line. If she were a priestess I’d lose… everything. Plain and simple. But I don’t want it for her, either. I hate picturing her in one of those veils. I don’t want her giving them her entire future. Even if I would never be a part of it. “You? Adora, don’t be an idiot.”
“What?” she cries. “I could be a priestess!”
I shake my head. “No, you couldn’t.” I lean into her shoulder. “You’re too… wild.”
She scoffs and leans her head on my shoulder. “Wild?”
“Yeah, or something. You’re reckless. And brave. The priests wouldn’t know what to do with you.”
Adora’s hand tangles with mine again and my heart thrums happily. “What about you? Do you wanna be a priestess?”
“Fuck no!” I almost shout.
Adora groans. “Catra…”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. No, I don’t wanna be a priestess. Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Really?”
I almost laugh. “No. Magicat or not, I’m not good enough. I’m ‘trouble.’”
That’s what my dad has always said. He’s right. I’m too passionate to be pious, too loud to be reverent. I am not the righteous servant I ‘was raised to be.’
And that’s fine. I don’t want to be a priestess. I don’t want to spend all of my life writing sermons and reading scripture. And I obviously wasn’t meant to—I’m a magicat .
But… I kinda wish it was something someone thought I could do.
There’s a couple seconds of total silence but when Adora speaks again her voice is certain. “You’re good enough, Catra. And you would make an amazing priestess. Your music could redeem the entire Waste.”
I bite back the thickness in my throat. “Shut up. You’re ruining the moonset.”
She chuckles quietly, but that’s the last thing she says until the day moon ducks below the walls of the gorge and the sky starts to go dark.
When I told Adora that I could hear the day moon sing, we were older, and I knew it was stupid. But Adora didn’t say that. She sat outside on the rocks with me for an hour, and she didn’t say a word. She just listened. And when she couldn’t hear it she got frustrated and asked me what it sounded like.
“Thanks,” she whispers, “for being my friend.”
I sigh softly and slow as I can wrap my arm around her waist. “I always will be.”
I should be listening to Shad—Light Spinner’s sermon. And, honestly, I’m trying. But from my place up on the stand I can see Adora sitting in the center of the third row. She actually is listening, her head nodding every few minutes and that thoughtful but calm look on her face. She’s wearing her sabbath jumpsuit, which is boxy and black with white and gray accents. The rest of the congregation is wearing variations of the same thing, but she glows.
“We cannot ,” Shadow Weav—Light Spinner slams her hand on the pulpit, “allow distractions to keep us from performing Prime’s work. We live in trying times. Serenia’s agenda rules the outside world, only becoming more powerful with every passing year since they were banished to the Crimson Waste. Mara drove them out, buying us time, but there was a cost.
“Mara’s sacrifice lives on in the hearts in each and every one of us. She was not afraid to put the greater good ahead of her own needs and desires. She chose a noble end, and it is because of that choice that the First Ones were able to bless Etheria with magic. It is because of that choice that we will someday be glorified and once again live on Eternia.”
My eyes feel heavy, but I fight it. I’ve heard this all before. A lot. Mara was a hero, champion of the First Ones, who fought against the wicked Serenia in the Great War. Mara won and Serenia was banished to the Crimson Waste for the rest of her days. Mara died of her wounds, somewhere in the Whispering Woods on her way to share her victory with the rest of the First Ones, and yeah, that was sad, but it ‘ushered in an era of peace the likes of which Etheria had never seen, and hasn’t seen since.’ The First Ones gave us magic and tech and civilized the planet, teaching us their ways. Everything should’ve been great.
But it wasn’t, because Serenia wasn’t really gone.
Using the magic that Etheria now had, Serenia’s spirit sent plagues and turned the hearts of Etherians against the First Ones. And it wasn’t long before they were driven out, leaving only a handful of their descendants and a few pieces of tech behind.
Until Prime’s vision.
When Prime was young he was revealed to be a First Ones descendant during a lesson in school. I can’t remember exactly what it was, I think he read some inscription on a mural, but it didn’t go over well. He was ostracized. He basically fled his hometown and wandered through the Whispering Woods for weeks.
The way Shadow Weav–Light Spinner tells it the Woods ‘guided’ him to an old First Ones’ ruin. My mom always said it was the Spirit of Mara. When I asked Adora she said those are the same thing. But that’s not the point. The point is, he stopped at a ruin, one modeled after the mythical She-Ra, and when he went inside the Spirit of Mara spoke to him.
She told him that She-Ra was real, that the hero from storybooks was really a goddess called upon by the First Ones to protect Etheria. But most importantly, Mara herself was She-Ra. And that, when she died, the goddess would enter a slumber of a thousand years before once again taking host in a First Ones’ descendant.
She charged Prime with preparing the way for this goddess.
“‘There will be another She-Ra.’” I look up to see Light Spinner gripping both sides of the podium. She always gets this way when she quotes the vision or scripture. “‘And we must be ready for her.’
“She-Ra will lead Etheria into the final age of Enlightenment. She will return the hearts of all peoples back to the First Ones, allowing our benefactors to return and guide us home. Glory be to Horde Prime. Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia.”
“Glory be to Horde Prime,” I grumble, my mouth moving on instinct. “Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia.”
Finally, Shadow Weaver steps back and gives a quick nod to the chorister. He beams and turns back to the pew where I’m sitting with the choir and gestures for us to stand. We do it almost in unison, except for Octavia who takes her dear sweet time, but that’s normal.
I’m not impressed with my congregational choir. But maybe I’ve been in too many advanced music courses. A lot of the other students just do this for fun, and listening to them you can tell, but me? I’ll admit, I do it for my ego.
I love the way people look at me when I sing—like I’m worth marveling at or something. I love the way Adora looks at me even more.
She almost looks at me the way I’m kinda worried I always look at her.
The conductor taps his stand with his baton, which is another thing that annoys me. This guy’s a first year music student, why does he need a baton? I straighten and let my arms hang to my sides.
The first few notes are hummed by the tenors and altos. I smile. It’s a pretty song, even if the themes and subject are kind of boring. At least to me. I’ve heard the story of Prime’s vision so many times I recite the manifesto verses to put myself to sleep at night.
I take a quick breath through my nose and then me and a bunch of other wannabes open our mouths to sing.
“When Prime was young, still just a boy, he wondered where to look for joy. He wanted purpose, needed a guide, he went to the woods wherefore from his fears to hide.”
The song goes on for a minute or so, recounting his travels and praising his open heart and yada yada yada. But I don’t care about all that.
The choir gets quiet and I watch the conductor count out the next few beats. Then he points to me with a flick and I start to sing.
Just me.
This is the first solo I’ve had in Sermon. Usually they let the… less talented singers have a shot. And since I’m a fourth year music student with an emphasis in the choral arts, everyone knows I can sing. They don’t feel like giving me chances to prove it.
But today I get to.
“ I am Mara,” I sing, and my voice rings out in the chapel. “ She-Ra of Etheria. I have much to tell you, son. Of magic, truth, and battles I’ve won.”
I smile a little and finally glance over at Adora again. I want to see how she’s looking at me. I want to feel like I matter.
I’m not disappointed.
I close my eyes, basking in it for a moment. I don’t really care about the words I’m singing, but I love the way they sound. I love the way the music makes me feel tingly and like my heart is swelling. Maybe that’s the spirit everyone is always going on about. Maybe the magic of Etheria knows.
“ She-Ra will be born again, she will not die with me. The First Ones are not lost to you, once more you will be raised…” there’s a low whispering that starts up and my brow furrows. It gets louder. “...Up above the lost and wretched ones. She will come to take you home.”
Now the whispering is so loud I can’t focus, the girls next to and behind me are whispering too. I can feel my ears darting around on my head, and my tail flicks at the tip.
I open my eyes. The kid in front of me is pointing at someone.
He’s pointing at Adora.
She’s still looking at me, looking at me that way that I’d kill for, but she’s… she’s glowing.
Not, like, metaphorically glowing. Literally glowing. She’s surrounded by this white-gold light that looks like it’s coming out of her skin.
The song dies in my throat, and someone yells.
“Holy, Mara!”
Adora blinks, turning her head, looking for the idiot that just cursed in front of an entire congregation, and the glowing starts to dim. She looks back at me and blinks. Maybe it’s the look on my face, or the way the entire room has gone completely silent, but the light dies - like it retreats back into her body - and Adora shrinks.
Not literally shrinks, it’d be impressive if she could do that and glow, but her shoulders hunch and she slides down her chair.
She meets my gaze and I realize she has no idea what just happened.
“Adora,” I say, and my voice carries across the room, “are you—”
I don’t get another word in. Kyle’s jumping up and throwing his arms in the air. He’s on the pew just behind Adora and he’s beaming like he doesn’t have bright green hair that’s staining the collar of his jumpsuit. “Praise Prime! It’s the light of Mara! Adora is She-Ra!”
Whispering takes over again, and even though I’m picking up on bits and pieces of what people are saying, shit about miracles and “of course it’s Adora!” I can’t break away from Adora’s stare.
She looks terrified.
I can relate.
“Silence!”
My eyes break away and I watch Light Spinner rise from her seat. She steps up to the pulpit and grips it from both sides. “Adora Grayskull…”
Adora bites her lip and bobs her head. “Yes?”
Light Spinner extends her hand. “Come here, child.”
Slowly Adora stands. She makes her way to the end of the pew, apologizing quietly to the people she passes. She pauses in the aisle, then straightens her shoulders and tips her head up. She’s trying to look confident, brave.
I wanna tell her she doesn’t have to be.
She walks up to the stand, up the stairs and when she passes the choir, she shoots me a glance. I want to smile, try and tell her it’s gonna be okay, but I can’t make my face move.
I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know what Adora glowing means —if it’s a bad thing, a good thing, or just a thing that First Ones’ can do. Adora has a lot of First One in her. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s like some genetic thing that skips several generations…
Like a hundred.
Adora steps up to Light Spinner’s side and stands straight and tall. But I can see the tension in her shoulders and jaw.
My fingers clench. I wish I could touch her, just to help her calm down a little.
“Adora,” Light Spinner says, and the way she says Adora’s name is… weird. It’s almost reverent. “The power of Mara is in you, little sister—like it was in Prime.”
Adora’s chin falls a little.
“But you… you are so much more than that.
“Once it was prophesied that She-Ra would return to lead the Horde in its quest to enlighten Etheria. She would finally defeat the wicked spirit of Serenia and usher in an age of peace and order. She would be our salvation. She would lead us home.”
My hands start to shake.
No. No, no, no, no…
“Adora, you are the She-Ra of prophecy. You… are the one we have been waiting for.”
A quiet gasp sounds out and Shadow Weaver does something I never thought I’d see. She gets down on her knees, clasps her hands, and bows.
“Glory be to Horde Prime,” she starts and my blood runs cold. “Glory be to Mara. Glory be to Eternia. And, above all,” she lifts her head, “glory be to She-Ra.”
Without prompting, like they’d been practicing it for years, everyone in the room cries out, louder than I’ve ever heard, “Glory be to She-Ra.”
“Glory be… to She-Ra,” I breathe, just a second after.