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Adora felt as if she was in a daze. She wasn’t sure if it was hours or days that had passed since the events of Thaymor, all that she knew was that she was off the hook, but at what price? The price of Catra dying?
Adora felt lost.
She hadn’t left her palace since she returned to it, as if she was still on house arrest. She instructed her palace guards that no one was allowed in unless it was to inform her that the trial was beginning. So, that’s how it was for… however long she was in there. She had not eaten, she had not slept, she hadn't even so much as moved. Just stared at the wall, contemplating everything that’s happened. What was she to do, if Catra was gone?
Adora’s hand reaches up to mindlessly play with the ring around her neck- the one that she believes Catra had given her when they parted that first time. Playing with it brought her a strange comfort, as if the ring was a piece of Catra that she could hold- the ring felt like a part of Catra that would always be with her, no matter what.
She’s broken out of her thoughts by the sound of a door opening and closing. She supposes this is it, this is the call that the trial is beginning. She sits still, not even breathing, while waiting for the messenger to find her.
Footsteps grow closer until they’re directly behind her. “Your Highness,” the voice- unmistakably Adam’s voice -says softly. “Emperor Randor requests you be a part of the council for the Crimson Knight’s trial.”
“...What?” Adora says, her voice hoarse from disuse. Adam clears his voice and repeats, “The Emperor wants you a part of the council deciding the Crimson Knight’s fate in her trial.”
Adora felt numb. “Is he not scared I won’t be impartial?” She asks, her voice low and cold. “Is he not nervous that I won't be biased, judging by my involvement with her?”
Adam sighs, and Adora can imagine his shoulders sagging with it. “Look, Adora, I…” Adam trails off, trying to cut through Adora’s icy demeanor. “I know you aren’t happy about this, but you know we’re all just concerned, right? We’re scared for you, that she’ll… hurt you. We’re trying to do what’s best for you, and my dad trusts you to have good judgment.”
Adora stands up and turns to him abruptly, shouting, “If she wanted to hurt me, she would’ve by now!”
“Your Highness, please!” Adam pleads, desperate. His face looked unbelievably sad. “Just do this, and after the trial if you’re that repulsed by…. Eternia… you’re free to go. Be like the Rain Master, secluded from us all up here! Just… please. For me?”
Adora stared at him, silently scrutinizing him. For him? Why should she do anything for him- anything for any of them, when they’ve done nothing but be horrible to someone for no good reason? They knew nothing of Catra, nothing of their relationship or her past and yet.. They base their opinions of her off of what? Things she did as a baby Ghost King?
Catra was nothing like they made her out to be. She was not evil, and she was not rude, and not arrogant. She was not vile, she was not a person who lacks morals. Catra was… she was smart, and she was mischievous, and she was caring, and she was cunning. Catra was sweet.
“Adora?” Adam breaks her out of her thoughts. Adora snaps back to reality and relents, “Fine. Let’s go.”
—
The Grand Martial hall was filled to the brim. For once, even the lesser gods were allowed in to watch the trial of the mighty Ghost King, the abomination of the three realms, Crimson Night Striking Mercilessly.
Adora was the final member of the court to be brought in, a seat reserved for her on the stands next to Empress Marlena and the civil goddess Angella. Marlena and the Emperor sat in the very middle, a show of their standing in the Eternian Court. Next to Randor was another empty seat, presumably for Adam. Next to Adam sat Sea Hawke, martial god of the North. Next to Sea Hawke was Mermista, the water master. Next to Mermista was Perfuma, then Frosta. Adora’s side had a similar set up, except with Angella, her sister-in-law Castaspella, Glimmer and Bow.
Adora was not happy to be there, but she’d do everything in her power to keep Catra alive. Adora takes her seat next to the Empress, but does not dare utter a word like she normally would have. She keeps her eyes trained to the doors of the Grand Martial Hall, waiting for them to open and bring in their prisoner.
“Thank you for coming, Adora,” Marlena says next to her, her tone warm and welcoming. Adora turns to the woman, a blank look on her face. If the Empress is taken aback by her expression, she does not show it. “I know you have connections to the Crimson Knight, but I appreciate you putting that aside to judge her fairly today. We just want what’s best for you.”
What’s best for her, they say. If they wanted what was best for her, they’d stop meddling in her private affairs. If they wanted what was best for her, they’d stop trying to ruin the one good thing to happen to her in decades.
But Eternia is selfish, and they are arrogant. Adora sees this now. Adora thinks she understands the contempt C’yra had for it, centuries ago after Adora left. Adora thinks she understands the contempt Catra has for it now.
Adora chooses to ignore the Empress.
After a few more moments of idle talking, Randor calls, “Silence.”
Randor does not yell, simply speaks at a normal volume, yet he still can command the entire hall effortlessly.
Once the hall was completely, truly silent, Randor continued. “Bring in the convict.”
Immediately, the doors of the Grand Martial Hall were opened, and there in the doorway stood a figure clad in black, completely chained up. It was unsettling for Adora to see Catra in anything other than the color red. She looked like a tiny spec from far away, but Adora couldn’t take her eyes off of her.
Two martial gods stood on either side of Catra, and when she didn’t move, they grabbed her arms and started to drag her inside.
“Hey, watch it!” Adora could hear Catra exclaim. “When I’m out of these chains, you don’t want to be the first person on my list! I will end you”
“Silence.” Randor chides. Catra was close enough for Adora to see the ghost roll her eyes.
Catra was in her true form, surprisingly. Adora figured she would’ve changed into a different skin before arriving in front of all the gods, but… Adora supposes her powers are restrained in Eternia. Adora doubts Eternia even realizes this is her true appearance.
The two martial gods yank on the chains, forcing Catra to the ground, on her knees. They tie up the chains on grooves in the floor, keeping her in that position. Such a position was meant to embarrass her, but Catra did not look embarrassed in the slightest. She looked regal, even on her knees before a council of gods meant to decide her fate.
“Crimson Night Striking Mercilessly, the scourge of Eternia,” Randor’s voice booms in the great hall, looking down at her. “You are here today on charges of… arson, first degree murder, destruction of property, vandalism, espionage, genocide, homicide, and abduction.”
Catra says nothing. Randor takes that as a sign to continue. “Before we begin, how do you wish to plead?”
Catra smirks, a fang peeking out from between her lips. “Not guilty, Your Majesty.”
Adora’s eyebrows raise in surprise- she didn’t think Catra would say she pleads not guilty. Perhaps she simply said it to frustrate the Emperor, not because she genuinely believed she wasn’t guilty.
“Very well, then.” Randor clears his throat and organizes the papers set out in front of him. “Let me inform you of how this will work. I will go down the list of charges, I will explain each one, and you can explain yourself on each one. Should any one here on the council ask you questions, you will answer them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Catra responds smugly. “I understand completely.”
“Very well, let’s begin.” Randor nods. He shuffles the papers until he has the one he desires. “Let’s begin with the oldest account- Arson. This report states that in the year 358, a red clad figure was seen all throughout Etheria burning down temples and shrines dedicated to her highness Frosta, Princess of the Kingdom of Snows. Witnesses said that the red clad figure had a mysterious and evil aura to her, with an unmistakable silver scimitar at her waist. When an investigation was conducted, it was determined that it was you who burned down all of Princess Frosta’s shrines. Do you admit that you did that?”
Catra seems to mull the question over a bit before conceding, “Yes, Your Majesty. I admit that it was me.”
Adora wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or to cry.
Randor nods. “Very good. Do any of our council have questions?”
Frosta stands up abruptly, eyes trained on the kneeling Catra. “Crimson Knight,” Frosta shouts. “Why me!?”
“Why not you?” Catra responds. “Besides, if you’re referring to the challenge request, I issued one to her highness Glimmer and her subordinate, Bow. Neither of which responded.”
Whispers broke out around the hall at Catra referring to Bow as Glimmer’s ‘subordinate’ even though he was a god in his own right. Randor quickly shut it down, telling them all to be quiet.
Frosta continued, not letting up. “But what had I done? What made you issue a challenge request to me?”
Catra stares at the girl for a long while, almost blankly, before she speaks, “I made an oath centuries ago, to right the wrongs committed against a person. I was following my oath.”
“And why did you burn down all of my shrines?” Frosta pressed, ignoring Catra’s response.
“We had a deal. Should you win, you would be given my ashes and were free to do with them as you please. Should I win, you would step down as a heavenly official. I won.” Catra explains, her voice monotone. “You seemed to have trouble fulfilling your end of our agreement, thus I helped. I burnt down all of your temples in a single night, and burned any new ones that your followers built. It was simple- you didn’t step down, so I forcefully removed you.”
Frosta was speechless. She sat back down, unable to think of another question to ask. Castaspella stood up now, all eyes on her as she asked, “What was this oath you made centuries ago?”
An emotion flashed through Catra’s eye, one Adora couldn’t name. Catra lowers her head but answers the question nonetheless, “It was the oath I made when I became a Knight.”
“You said the oath was to right the wrongs committed against a person,” Castaspella says slowly. “Who is the person?”
“My Princess.” Is all Catra responds.
“Who is ‘your Princess’?” Castaspella presses.
“She is none of your concern.”
“Why are you following the oath you made as a mortal, as a Ghost King?”
“I still care for her deeply.”
“This Princess of yours,” Castaspella says thoughtfully. “I’m assuming she’s a god by the way you talk about her. What wrong did Frosta commit against her that warranted this, exactly?”
Silence. Catra looks up, but not at Castaspella. Catra holds eye contact with Randor as she calls out, “I plead the 5th.”
Castaspella sits back down, “Those are all the questions I have, Your Majesty.”
Randor nods and shuffles another piece of paper into the front. “Very well, next charge then. The first degree murder of the former King of Salineas, who was also the former Water Master. Reports say one night you broke into the kingdom and killed the King on his nightly walk along the beach. Witnesses said they saw you and the King arguing, before breaking out into a fight- a fight in which you fatally injured the King. Do you admit that this is what happened?”
“In simple words, yes.” Catra agrees.
Randor nods and opens the floor to questions from the council. Mermista stands, a deadpan and emotionless look on her face. “That was my father.” Is all she says. “Why’d you do it?”
“He was a bad business partner.”
“Bad business partner?” Mermista repeats, seeming genuinely confused. “What does that mean? My father was noble, he wouldn’t dare work with a Ghost King.”
“It means that your precious father was working for me, princess.” Catra responds, monotone. “Him and I had a contract, before I started dueling for them. I’d ensure he had clear waters whenever he had to export things overseas, and he’d supply me with materials I’d need to make spiritual devices.”
Mermista was thoroughly confused. “How is that possible? You don’t control the seas or rivers surrounding Salineas.”
“I don’t, but Double Trouble Stealing Skins does.”
The court was deathly silent for a moment.
“I’m assuming you’d contact Ghost King Double Trouble Stealing Skins when your end of the deal needed to be fulfilled?” Perfuma spoke up.
“That’d be correct, Your Highness.”
Perfuma nodded and left it at that. Mermista, however, was not done. “How’d you get them to ever agree to such a thing?”
“You can say they’re in my debt.” Catra shrugs.
“Do you have records of these dealings?” Mermista asks, a hard edge to her tone. “Documentation that any of this took place?”
Catra rolls her eyes and tries to adjust herself, only to be held in place by the martial gods next to her. “Of course I do. Do you take me as a fool, Water Master?”
“Where can we find these records?” Randor speaks up now, curious. Catra turns her attention to him and says, “my assistant, Scorpia. She should be easy enough to contact. She can get you a copy of the records, Your Majesty.”
“Alright, I’ll get in contact with her soon to get these records.” Randor nods. “Proceed.”
“Why was my father a ‘bad business partner’?” Mermista questions, wasting no time.
“He’d frequently deliver the materials late, or damaged. Sometimes he’d claim they were even ‘lost in the mail’, but in reality he was simply being selfish.” Catra sighs, shaking her head. “But alas, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. I told him that if this happened again, there would be consequences. And, I think one thing you all should learn is that I am a woman of my word.”
“And keeping your word meant killing my father?” Mermista asked, deadpan. Catra shrugged, “My hand slipped.”
Mermista seemed dumbfounded at that answer- and to be honest, Adora was too, but she found it funny as well -and sat back down. Randor gave it a second before he continued.
“The next account is destruction of property,” He reads aloud. “This one is self explanatory, this is from your fight with Princess Frosta, you destroyed a lot of the palaces and architecture here in Eternia-”
Adora heard and felt her before she saw her. The clicking of heels, the long forgotten yet familiar presence of resentment and evil. When she looked, there she saw her, at the door of the Grand Martial Hall. After years, decades, centuries of searching for her… and there she was.
Adora stands abruptly, her chair screeching on the marble ground of the Grand Martial Hall. She would not let her get away. She has her chance now, and she would not miss it.
She goes to move, and she finds that she can’t. She’s stuck in place, forced to watch as she glides over the ground, closer to them, closer to Catra.
“Why, this is comical,” She drawls, dragging a hand up Catra’s hair as she walks by. Adora watches as Catra’s eye widens and darts towards her, now also watching her progress forwards. “This is rich, coming from Eternia.”
“Shadow Weaver.” Randor seethes, also seemingly stuck in place. “How are you here? Why are you here?”
Shadow Weaver tilts her head to the side. “I’m here because I caught wind of the absurdity of this trial.”
“Absurdity? How is this absurd in any way?!” Randor’s voice booms. Adora thinks this is the loudest she’s ever heard him speak.
“Why, it’s so obvious why this trial is absurd.” Shadow Weaver responds, turning around and walking back towards Catra. When she is next to her, she begins to pet her hair, the way a human would pet their beloved pet. “Don’t touch me.” Catra says, her voice low but full of anger, hurt, hate.
Shadow Weaver ignores her. “You prosecute others for crimes that you yourself have committed. How hypocritical, hm?”
The hall was in utter chaos, now. The lesser gods- the ones who are not allowed within the Grand Martial Hall -were all yelling at Shadow Weaver, accusing her of all sorts of things. Adora was shocked, she was angry. She wanted to kill her. She wanted her to stop touching Catra- wanted her as far away from Catra as possible, for some reason.
“Eternia has it’s many secrets, don’t let those two fool you,” Shadow Weaver adds, pointing at Marlena and Randor and ignoring the accusations and overall chaos of the court. “Eternia is more corrupt than any mortal or ghost kingdom could ever hope to be!”
“Liar!” some of those lesser gods yell. Some yell rather… unsavory words towards her. Shadow Weaver cranes her neck to look at the one section of lesser gods.
“You dare to accuse me of lying…” Shadow Weaver shakes her head. “Aren’t I being truthful, Crimson Knight?”
Catra stays silent. She doesn’t even look at Shadow Weaver, Adora sees. Catra’s looking at her.
Shadow Weavers moves in front of Catra. “Fine, be like that.” Shadow Weaver sighs disappointedly. Adora vaguely sees Shadow Weaver’s hands begin moving- then she sees Catra’s eyes widen, which in it of itself is concerning. Adora watches in horror as something- some kind of spell -passes through Catra. Shadow Weaver turns back to them, hands clasped in front of her. “A truth spell.” Shadow Weaver explains.
She turns her body halfway to Catra, head turned fully towards her. “Let’s try again. Everything I’ve said today has been truthful, correct?”
Adora can see that Catra is trying to fight it, but truth spells are impossible to fight. Even the most powerful of ghosts can’t resist- especially in a spell form, the pain is unbearable.
“...Yes.” Catra all but whispers. Shadow Weaver turns to fully face them once again. Adora can imagine the smug look the witch has on her face underneath the mask.
“Thank you, Crimson Knight.” Shadow Weaver says. “Heaven has two best kept secrets. Only a handful of gods know of them.”
The minor gods begin yelling again- and if there’s one thing Adora knows best, it’s to never provoke Shadow Weaver… who was uncharacteristically quiet.
The court eventually silences after a few minutes of the gods yelling at her. Shadow Weaver heaves a sigh and shakes her head. “And still, none of you believe me?” Shadow Weaver tsks. “Fine, then. Prince Adam, please look to your left.”
Adam, for whatever reason, listens to her. He meets eyes with Adora.
“Very good.” Shadow Weaver praises. “Prince Adam, I’d like you to formally meet Princess Adora, the lost Princess of Eternia- and, by default, your sister.”
An eerie silence falls over the hall. No one says a word, no one even moves.
“No..” Adam whispers. “No, no way. Mom? Dad?”
All eyes were on the Emperor and the Empress. They didn’t look shocked, not amazed- they looked guilty. Adora felt lost, felt fuzzy. Could she really trust Shadow Weaver? There’s no way she could-
“Is that true?” Adam asks, his voice shaky. Emperor Randor hangs his head. That was enough answer for Adam- for the whole hall. Adora watches as the desperate look on Adam’s face turns to rage. “You knew? You knew this whole time that Adora is my sister? The Lost Princess?”
Marlena speaks, this time. “...No, we didn’t.”
“How long?” Adam questions. The emperor and empress stay quiet. “How long!?”
His voice echoed throughout the silent hall. It bounced off the walls, reverberating in Adora’s ears. This was the angriest she’s seen Adam- seen her brother.
“Two centuries.” Randor speaks up, raising his head again. “We knew for two centuries.”
“Why?” Adam asks- but it came out as him demanding an answer. “Why didn’t you tell me? Tell us?”
Randor opens his mouth to speak, but Shadow Weaver beats him to it.
“The truth, your highness?” Shadow Weaver’s voice booms. “There can only be one heir.”
Adam’s head snaps to Shadow Weaver, then back to his father. “Is that true?” He presses, not stopping until Randor answers him. “Is she right? That’s why you hid it?”
“No, honey, of course not-”
“Don’t lie to him, Marlena.” Randor says shamefully. “We thought… we believed it to be better if Adora found out after your ascension to the throne… we’ve seen bloody battles for succession. We didn’t want that, not between our children.”
Adora’s eyes widened. The two hid such a thing to prevent a bloody war of succession?
Adora wanted nothing more than to take Catra and leave.
“Why? Why me?” Adam challenged. Randor side eyes him, “What a stupid question. Out of you two, who is the male?”
“This is about gender?” Adam roars. “The title of Emperor is just as much of a birth right to Adora as it is to me! Biological relation to you aside, the title of the Emperor is to be transferred to the strongest martial god, not- not to whoever you wanted!”
“We aren’t discussing this here.” Randor concedes. “Not in front of this audience.”
“This is obviously some kind of plan concocted by those two!” Glimmer, for whatever reason, exclaims. “I told you, Shadow Weaver and the Crimson Knight have been working together this whole time! They’re trying to get us to turn on each other so they can escape!”
“Shut up!” Adora yells, turning to face Glimmer. “For one second, shut up! All you do is blame the Crimson Knight for all of our issues- and now, you’re accusing her of colluding with that witch to break free? As if she has even been able to contact anyone from her cell!”
“She has you under a spell, Adora!” Glimmer cries. “Why can’t you see it? That necklace, the ring.. It has to be a spell! She gave you that, didn’t she? It must have some mind control spell on it! This isn’t you!”
“Quiet.” Shadow Weaver demands. Adora and Glimmer direct their attention to Shadow Weaver, but most of the quiet, hushed conversations going on within the hall continue.
“Why should I listen to you?” Glimmer asks, an air or arrogance to her. “What merit do you have over someone like me? A god?”
“Such big talk, young lady.” Shadow Weaver shakes her head. “This actually brings me to Eternia’s second best kept secret. It has to do with the Patron God of Brightmoon- Glimmer.”
“What?” Glimmer questions with a slight laugh. “Now she’s just lying. I have no secrets- I have nothing to hide!”
Shadow Weaver turns her back to Glimmer and walks over to Catra again. Adora watches in mild horror as Shadow Weaver grabs Catra’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and roughly lifts her head to look up at Shadow Weaver. Shadow Weaver tilts her head to the side inquisitively, like she’s examining Catra. Shadow Weaver uses her other hand to stroke Catra’s cheek. Adora watches Catra’s face twitch.
“Isn’t this a familiar position, Red Knight?” Shadow Weaver asks softly.
Red Knight. Adora is intimately familiar with that title. Shadow Weaver must be using it to mock Adora- to rub salt into an already infected wound.
Catra stares up at Shadow Weaver with unconcealed disgust. “I said, don’t touch me.” Catra growls. Shadow Weaver continues to look down at Catra, her thumb and index finger still holding her chin in place.
“Your Royal Highness Glimmer,” Shadow Weaver says, staring down at Catra. “You were never supposed to be a god.”
Gasps erupt throughout the Grand Hall. Adora sees a slight amount of color drain from Angella’s face- and Adora can’t believe it. She refuses to believe it. There’s no way- there is no possible way that what Shadow Weaver said has any merit to it. Glimmer was meant to be a god… you can’t force your way into Heaven. Adora knows this fact best.
“What!?” Glimmer yells. “What the- How does that even make sense!? If I was never supposed to be a god, then how am I a god!”
“Your fate was switched, unbeknownst to you, Your Highness.” Shadow Weaver explained.
Glimmer scoffs. “That’s impossible, there’s no way you can switch a person’s fate. I was always meant to be a god!”
“Angella, would you like to explain to your daughter what you did?” Shadow Weaver questions, turning her head over her shoulder to look towards Angella. Angella seemed frozen in place, unable to speak. Adora was just as shocked as Angella- but, for a different reason if what Shadow Weaver is saying is true, she supposes.
Shadow Weaver wasted no time in explaining in Angella’s stead,
“Only one person can ascend at a time. Multiple people can die at the same time,” Shadow Weaver begins, letting go of Catra’s chin harshly in favor of turning to face Glimmer as she explains. “Your mother was able to see your future the day of your Quest of Queens. She saw that you were not going to be able to survive it by yourself, so she did the only thing she thought she could do- she switched your fate.”
“What?” Adam speaks up, now. “What the hell are you saying! That isn’t possible! Fates can’t be switched!”
“Oh, silly boy, they can,” Shadow Weaver shakes her head. “They have to be very specific situations, however. In this case, only one scenario would have Glimmer walking away from that quest unharmed- which was if she ascended. So how did Angella do it, you may ask?”
Shadow Weaver looks around the room, waiting for anyone to say something. No one speaks.
“She switched Glimmer’s fate with someone who was going to ascend at the same time as Her Highness’ death.”
“Who was it, then?” Glimmer challenges. “Who did my mother switch my fate with?”
Adora can almost see a cruel smile turn up Shadow Weaver’s lips, “Why.. she switched your fate with none other than the Crimson Knight.”
Adora sees the light drain out of Catra’s eyes, sees her face fall even more.
Glimmer bursts out laughing- uncontrollable, tearful laughter. She even had the nerve to hit the table they sat at. “That’s funny!” Glimmer exclaims through laughs. “That made your story even more unbelievable! As if someone like her could ever ascend to godhood! Only good people, people who made great sacrifices and heroic actions can ascend!”
Shadow Weaver shakes her head disappointedly. “Silly god, don’t you know? Every Ghost King once had the potential to ascend to godhood.”
The hall was silent.
“If fate stayed the way it was supposed to..” Shadow Weaver sighs dramatically. “The Crimson Knight would’ve ascended, and Her Highness would’ve died.”
“And then I would’ve became a Ghost King?” Glimmer asks, her voice low. Shadow Weaver shakes her head, “No, dear. You wouldn’t have. You were never supposed to ascend. Your fate was to die that day, but your mother’s sleight of hand landed you in this position.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Glimmer shakes her head. “There’s no way that’s true. If- If I had died, I would’ve became a Ghost King!”
“No, Glimmer…” Bow speaks up. “What she’s saying makes sense. She’s saying you were never supposed to be a god, but because of a fate switch with the Crimson Knight, you became one in order for your mom to save you.”
“But… the- the Ghost King..” Glimmer stutters out.
“She’s saying that every Ghost King we see now had the potential to be a God,” Bow says slowly. “So, let’s use me for example: If I had died and I became a ghost, I would’ve had the potential to escape the Kiln in Tong’lu.”
“Those who ascend have the potential to escape the Kiln if they had died; those who escaped the Kiln had the potential to ascend if they were alive.” Adam says monotonously, staring dead eyed at the marble of the floor. “So, since you never had the real potential to ascend… you never had the potential to escape the Kiln.”
“Look, he gets it,” Shadow Weaver comments. “Eternia ignored this fact since the day you ascended. Fate tried to right itself at one point- but, like in her mortal life, the Crimson Knight insisted on being different- on being a disappointment.”
Adora watches Catra hang her head in shame. Adora has no idea what Shadow Weaver means by any of that- all she knows is that if she could move in that moment, she’d have murdered her.
Shadow Weaver begins walking down the aisle- not without releasing Catra from her binds. Still, Catra didn’t move from her position on her knees. It seems whatever spell Shadow Weaver placed on the rest of the room to keep them in place affected Catra as well.
Shadow Weaver stopped midway down the aisle, turning to address the council- but more specifically, Adora.
“You wish to end me, Adora,” Shadow Weaver drawls. “Don’t look so shocked, I’ve known for centuries- since you left the Fright Zone, actually. I suggest you focus on reworking Eternia before you target me.”
Shadow Weaver begins opening a portal in the middle of the hall. Just as she was about to step through it, Shadow Weaver’s last words ring throughout the dead silent Grand Martial Hall- “You will not be able to find me until then. You must cut out the evil that infects you, unknowingly blinding you and your judgment. Only then will you be able to seek me out.”
And then she was gone.