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Though Heroes Fall - Part 1

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Evil-Lyn about her spell-casting by omnivore7

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                                Though Heroes Fall           A Tale of He-Man               By Omnivore7

                                                                                      

                                                                                   

 “Oft evil will shall evil mar indeed in very deed….”

      Theoden, King of Rohan. (r. III 2980-3019)

"Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it."

      William Pitt the Elder, Earl of Chatham. (British Prime Minister, 1766-1778)

 

“When animus and anima meet, the animus draws his sword of power and the anima ejects her poison of illusion and seduction. 
The outcome need not always be negative since the two are equally likely to fall in love….” 

     Carl Jung. (Swiss analytical psychologist, 1875-1961)

 

 

 

                            Prologue

                                Chapter One – Plots and Plans

                                Chapter Two – Knight Sacrifice

                                Chapter Three – The Machine

                                Chapter Four – The Price of Power

                                Chapter Five – Questions without Answers

                                Chapter Six – Up to an high Place

                                Chapter Seven – Rites of Passage

                                Chapter Eight – Harm and Healing

                                Chapter Nine – The Place where Evil dwells

                                Chapter Ten – Friend and Foe

                                Chapter Eleven – Loss

                                Epilogue – The Giving

                                                      

 

                             


1.1    Prologue 


 

There were stars, many stars – a firmament of them spreading wide and far, out of sight, out of mind and time, beyond and onwards to worlds of imagination. Two moons hung low in the sky, tinged with azure light; a quiet sea rolled and sighed beneath the night’s reflective brightness – and the jagged black shape of an island barred a shadow over all.

And yet it was not wholly dark, that blackness marring the etched silver of the sea; a fitful glow hung over it, and it flickered, first faint then brighter, an eldritch light which skilled and seeing eyes would know for the presence of powerful sorcery; powerful – and altogether malign.

Blue-silver light of moons and stars warred with the purplish tinge of magical power, a light that clung like balefire in its sullen glow. There were other lights – but they lay hidden within that rising cone of rock set about with the scarcely-stirring waters of night – for they were not meant to be seen. Within was darkness – yet a darkness touched with fire. There were torches – and such sources as burn without flame – and yet owe all to craft and nothing to sorcery. There was stillness – and the subtle, steady throb of hidden power for such ears as could hear it.

And there were voices.

The echo of their speech was lost, trapped and muffled by the rock-vaulted cavern with its dim light of candles and of flame. A fire burned steadily – but gave off no heat, consumed no fuel that could be seen and was itself of purple hue. All about, where the walls leaned to listen, shadows conspired in corners. A woman and a man spoke together.

His voice was obsequious, a fitting foil for the imperiousness of hers.

“So it is true, then; Hordak’s Horde do indeed possess such a wonder?”

“Yes, my lady. The matter is beyond all doubt.”

“And it has worked before? We may be sure of it? But yes; indeed we may – for we have his word for that. Very well – very well. Fetch me my scrying glass; I must know for certain before we take this step. The stakes we wager for are very high; each throw made must needs be well-founded.”

“Indeed, my lady, for, were we to fail, then the lord –”                                    

“We shall not fail; I shall not fail! Fetch me the glass here!” The voice was haughty, certain of being obeyed.

Pale purple light glowed in the heart of a crystal – her long hands enveloped it lovingly; she spoke – and light leaped and flamed within, irradiating the cavern in its deathly wyrdlight. She leaned close; her silver-strange eyes reflected back from the heart of the crystal. Long she gazed, her hands weaving strange patterns, while her companion, torn between wonder and fear, both leaned close and cringed, plucking at his straggling black beard. The inner glow made planes of light and darkness of her face as she gazed both near – and far. At last she let the light die down and straightened, a tall, slender woman in a robe so blue that it might be almost be black.

“It can be done – it will be done! Nor shall we miscarry!” She paced, her pale hands gesturing. “Combined with the power I have drawn from my – other source – then to gain command of this as well would be stupendous – nothing less. Success would lead to the greatest overthrow Eternia has ever seen – and doubly so in this case. We should soon be in a position to take power throughout all its kingdoms – for none would dare oppose us – and I do mean none. Many would even flock to aid us willingly. Yes – yes indeed; the lure of it would be well-nigh irresistible. Allied to our – talents – a weapon so deadly, backed by such power, would be unstoppable – and all lies indeed within our reach.”

The man’s eyes glowed red in the light. “And yet the risks are great; what if he should –”

“He will not,” she countered quickly. “He suspects nothing – I am certain of it. And by the time that he does then he will be committed to a needless war which will distract him long enough for us to secure our objective. And then we shall strike with our new weapon and, with him out of the way, the kingdoms and lordships of Eternia will either bow the knee – or fall – one by one. And all will be ours.”

“Is this power you speak of really so strong?” marveled the other.

“Indeed it is – an ancient strength that lives on inside that guarded place. And it has an edge of steel. Oh, he has tried to get his claws on it many a time and oft – and has always failed. But that is because he is a noisy, pridesome fool, lacking subtlety – and because in his arrogance he has not troubled to understand the source of that power – and how it must be channeled.”

“The which you do, my lady?”

“The which I most certainly do, count. I have long studied the ancient lore and I have scried deep into the patterns of power – and I know this to be true. There is but one key to that place – and but one way to secure that key.”

“A true key – of iron, or else one composed of sorcery?”

“Of neither; I spoke but in metaphor – and yet it is as unfailingly the key as if it were indeed composed of or one or the other.”

“I – do not understand, my lady.”

She favored him with a smile. At least her mouth made that motion, though her eyes barely joined with them. “Serve our interests well and soon you shall. The rewards we seek from this intrigue are great indeed – and well-worth the risk entailed in essaying them.”

“But, tell me – this key; what is it?”

It is a he – and he is a man.”

“A man – who is a key? But how so? And who is he?”

“Why, then there indeed is a riddle for you to ponder, count!” She laughed, arch in humor. “My library is at your disposal if lore you seek!” She gestured wide with a pale and slender arm.

His face, already dusky, grew darker. “I have not time for such games, my lady. I wish –”

But her voice cut cold across him.

 “I know what it is you wish for – and I shall secure it for you. As promised. But first there is work to be done. We shall unleash war – but must be certain that we ourselves remain unscathed to reap the benefits. Our enemies will cancel each other out – and leave us free to move against what survives of them.”

“Tell me. I am eager to know!”

“In good time; in good time.”

“You spoke of a key.”

“Indeed. And to that very end I have plans to make – or rather to perfect, for something of this has long been in my mind. Much of the necessary preparation is, indeed, already in place – thanks to my foresight. All the same, it will not be an easy task; the key – this man I spoke of – will not wish to turn for us; not at all. Overcoming his reluctance will require a subtle combination of – persuasions – both of body and of mind. And, with him, both are strong – or seemingly so.” She gave a paring of a smile.

Her associate’s reply was a dismissive snort. “Even the strongest break – sooner or later.”

“Indeed so; yet it is all a matter of method – and indeed of intention. Strong he is – and  yet he remains the weak point in the defenses. In strength of one kind lies weakness of another; a most intriguing paradox.” She shrugged elegantly. “But first we must secure what we require from Etheria. And to that end we must turn our minds and endeavours.” She paced awhile in thought and her associate’s eyes followed her with a dull red glow. At length she stilled again and spoke. “I shall open negotiations with our secret allies within the Horde – for without what they can secure for us then all will be in vain.”

“You mean –”

“I mean just what I say; we must first despoil the Hordelord – and ensure that he apportions the blame for his loss appropriately. And then we must have the key to Grayskull brought here so that I can begin work on – making it turn.”

“But how long will that take?”

“That is difficult to judge; these matters – done with due care – cannot be hurried. But I am well-prepared for the inevitable struggle – and shall, of course, succeed in time. Once he is in my hands. And that we must also attend to.” She paused, her fine features thoughtful, her strange-hued eyes intent. “But be aware; if we are to set this in motion then we must be certain; quite, quite certain.”

“What would you have me do? But name it!”

A long, shapely finger traced over her dark-tinged lips. “My thoughts again turn towards the realm of Randor. It is there that we shall find the means to secure what we have need of. Yes –” She smiled slender satisfaction and turned to her eager associate. “Bring me in reports from our eyes, our ears there; all that our intelligencers can muster – I shall need such matter ready to hand without delay. Offer the customary rewards; and – as ever – warn them what will happen should they fail me. The usual things; you know what to say.”

“My lady; I shall do your bidding.”  

“See that you do. It is the only way in which your lost powers can ever be returned to you. Now leave me; I would be alone to think.”

Her tall, slim figure paced again, back and forth, back and forth. Then, turning once more to the crystal, she cast her hands over it and revived its cold heart of purple fire.

“Show me –” she intoned, “show me –” Bent low to its depths she long remained, intent and unmoving – and the light played violet over her pallid hair, the finely modeled contours of her head. And then her face rose – and changed – and her chill laughter filled every corner of the cavern with its unhallowed sound.

 

 

1.2     Plots and Plans


The sound of battle sounded from below the walls; staves clashed together, separated and came together again – but the guardsmen on duty above paid little heed, for they were well used to it. The pleasance of the Palace stretched away into trees, a green place of well-trimmed lawns and borders where fountains lifted to the sunlit morning air. Two young people were engaged in fighting – or at least its outward appearance – there. The girl was tall, shapely and red-headed, with the lithe and easy grace of a born athlete – and maybe a hint of studied aggression in her swift movements; the boy slim, youthful, with an open countenance and a cheerful mop of yellow hair. A casual observer might well judge them a handsome pair, worth the watching as they trained. For so they named it, that sparring both physical and mental which made up their days, the common currency of their exchanges. This morning was like many more before it – and so were the exasperated words of the girl.

“No, Adam! For the ten-trillionth time, NOT LIKE THAT! By the blessed Ancients, how can any boy – let alone a prince – be so clumsy, so handless – so useless? Now, try again!” 

“Oh, but must I? I mean – really? Couldn’t we rest now? It’s hot and I’m thirsty and –”

He fell silent at the ominous look on her face, then smiled sheepishly, lop-sided – and held up a placating hand. “All right, all right – here I come –” He launched himself at her, failed to counter her swift side-step, received a thump on the backside from her staff and, turning, found himself brought low to the lawn by her flying tackle about his thighs. With a gasp he drew in some air and widened his eyes, letting the breath out slowly and looking up at her where she crouched above in the defense position, her green gaze keen upon him for any signs of retaliation. There weren’t any; instead he lay rather comically spread-eagled and quite unmoving. He screwed shut his eyes, assessing the damage. “I think you’ve broken my back,” he moaned. “I’m sure my spine’s sheered through – or at least badly damaged.”

But she only laughed callously at his sorry plight. “That’ll teach you to carry-through properly and not get jumped, then, won’t it? Besides, the only real damage is to your ego.”

“What little of it you’ve left intact, that is.”

“Oh, quit the whining, Adam. Don’t you think that worse things happen in battle? Far worse.”

“Worse than you, you mean? Seems pretty unlikely.”

“Get up; come at me again.”

“And get knocked over again? Huh! I rather think I’ll pass on that one, thanks.” He folded his arms behind his head and crossed his legs as if composing himself for a nap.

Teela inserted the staff under him and applied the most literal kind of leverage.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“But it does seem to have cured that broken back of yours, doesn’t it? Now get your lazy tail over here and face up.”

“But why? I know how this’ll end.”

“Then learn faster and one day it might not; come on.”

“Don’t be mean to me, Teela; it’s my birthday –” he caught her raised red eyebrow “– soon.”

“Uh-huh – and when it is, then you get the day off.”

“Really?”

“Sure; it will just mean double training each day until then to make up for it.”

“Teela!”

“Just kidding – probably. Come on; let’s see if you do any better on this pass.”

He did; not that it actually kept him on his feet; he looked up at her as she again bent over him.

“You know? I really wouldn’t want you as an enemy; I’m already a mass of bruises with you as a friend: technically a friend. And anyway; shouldn’t you be showing more respect for your future king?”

“And if that ever happens then I hope that the Elders are really going to be watching over us.”

He stuck out his princely tongue at her, but she shook her head, setting her long tail of hair swaying redly. Adam’s elevated status was a standing joke between them; yet Teela was not laughing now. Somehow the innately simple fact of their friendship and daily closeness had grown more complex as Adam and she had themselves grown. Particularly of late.

“Respect has to be earned, not just given,” she said seriously, almost sternly. “If you are going to rule, then you need to be ready. One day you’ll have to go into battle in defense of your people, do your duty. What will you do then?”

Adam shrugged. “My best, I suppose.” His voice was flippant, to mask his uneasiness; this was all getting a touch too close for comfort; time to change the subject – once again. But he couldn’t resist defending himself – at least a little. “Anyway, I do train, don’t I?”

“Sort-of. And that only because I make you.” She frowned down at him as he lay there, his hands behind his head in that insouciant way which irritated her so. “It doesn’t exactly make you a hero, does it? I mean, look at He-Man –”

“Do we have to? Or talk about him – again?”

“He’s a good example for you to follow.”

“Ummm.”

“And, besides, as the one and only prince around here, you should be showing some leadership: training hard – and getting a grip on yourself.”

“I’d rather get a grip on you.”

“In your dreams, squirt. And, speaking of dreams, getting yourself out of bed before the late forenoon would help, too.”

“Hey, I need my sleep!”

“You need a long run, some well-focused upper-body exercises and a cold bath that’s what you need.”

“To be just like you, you mean? Well, I’ll tell you what: every dawn you can do the run and work up a good sweat while I catch up – on some much-needed sleep. And then I’ll come and join you.”

“For the exercizes?”

“No! In the bath, of course –”

He rolled nimbly away from her attempt to stuff grass in his mouth, but couldn’t escape her vengeance for long. Pretty soon she had him held pinned down while her free hand pulled up his shirt and mercilessly tickled the heaving ribs and stomach while he giggled and squirmed and begged breathlessly.

“Stop it! Enough – I’m sorry; I’m sorry –”

“Prove it.”

“Oh no – Anything – just stop!”

“So you’ll come on the runs with me? Every morning?”

“Not under any circumstances whatsoever. I – oh no – don’t – hate running and – oh, please, Teela, stop – just stop! All right! All right – I will! Please – I can’t stand it!”

“The run and the weight training – agreed?”

“And the bath?” He grinned up at her with laughing blue eyes.

 On impulse she leaned forward and planted a swift kiss on his cheek, then stood, in excellent spirits now that she had her way.

“Dawn tomorrow we start, then; the hill route, I think.” She smiled sweetly, ruffled his bright hair as he sat indignantly up and went blithely on her way, ignoring the admiring stares of some visiting plenipotentiaries from Grymus.

Adam collapsed back on the grass and groaned. “I do wish she wouldn’t do that.” It wasn’t altogether clear whether he meant the punishment she had meted out or else the kiss. He groaned again. “I’m done for, Cringer – no way out of it now. I need a drink –”

The striped cat, awake now, licked at his whiskers in agreement.



Pindown3 By Thepolishgirl-d7b37jy - Amended by omnivore7

Artwork by: thepolishgirl.deviantart.com



1.3

 

But watchful eyes had observed this playful little scene; paid ears, hearing, now earned their treasonous wages; hireling lips made their report. And, when it was made, there was chill laughter – and the drawing-up of plans.

 

1.4

 

Orko the Trollan paused; he felt a shadow pass and a sudden chill, as if a cloud had eclipsed the sun; a spider walking over his hand. And this he knew of old to be a warning. He had not, after all, always been a comical little conjurer – even if no-one much remembered that any more – sometimes not even Orko.

But old habits, old feelings die hard – and something was wrong; very wrong. A movement; he sensed a movement in the patterns of power, the flux which guided the timeless elemental magics of Eternia, holding them forever in complex and fluid balance. And now that balance had shifted – and was, for the present at least, out of true. Alerted he concentrated hard – and was at once rewarded. Someone was drawing on great power – drawing it from afar – yes – and – and scrying – and their eye was on Eternos. He tried to determine the source – but a wall of willpower fenced the sorcery, hedging it about with caliginous and arcane power – and he could not break through. To linger long on that plane of magic was to risk alerting the other to his presence – and that someone knew well what they were about. So he disengaged his mind and tried his best to cover his tracks in a cloud of deception; he only hoped that it had worked; it was never his best spell even at the best of times.

And now he was worried – and quite, quite sure that this was indeed a warning – and a stark one. As for the scrying – and the eye turned on Eternos – he could not believe that they meant well by it. It just felt – wrong – and his magic-reared bones did not like it. He must speak with the Sorceress – and warn his friends that trouble was looming; as ever, there would be little need to search too far for its source – that was usually pretty plain. But the magnitude and unknown nature of the power he had sensed had surprised him – almost jarred him. Yes; he must certainly share this with the Sorceress – but dared not do so on the occult plane for fear of issuing a warning to the other – the one with such ready access to this unfamiliar source.

He must cut short his stay here and leave at once; he must go home.

 

1.5

 

Dawn came up – and Prince Adam was up with it: largely because Teela had yet again invaded his bedchamber to remind him of his promise – and to ensure that he kept it by emptying the better part of a jug of water over his sleepy head as he hugged his bolster. Now, clad in his training suit and running shoes he stood shivering in the dim cold of dew time while Teela went into her impressively thorough and rigorous regime of pre-run stretching exercises.

“Well – I’m here,” he stated, somewhat obviously.

“Only because I made you,” she observed tartly from the ground. “Otherwise you’d still be slumbering in your scratcher ’til the crack of noon.”

“Sounds good to me,” sniffed Adam.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Oh, I distinctly hope so.”

“Hopeless.”

“No; pretty hopeful, mostly. In spite of all.”

“Still feeling sorry for yourself?”

Adam shivered again, looking up at the steadily-lightening sky. “Just promise to come and look for me if I don’t get back until nightfall, huh?”

“Don’t be so limp!”

“But I am limp. I like being limp. Limp is good.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you complain of blisters – again.”

“They were really bad! And there were three of them!”

“You big sissy.”

“That’s not fair! Besides, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Point reference as before. But, since you are here, don’t just stand there moaning and feeling sorry for yourself – stretch!”

Bending obediently to her order, Adam hid his smile. Teela, over a year his elder, had been around for as long as he could remember; they had grown up together like siblings – and she had soon assumed a protector’s role over him; it seemed to come naturally to her. Folk at the Palace had long before taken to calling her ‘Adam’s Bodyguard’ in good-natured jest, partly because she was such a tom-boy and un-girlish, and the moreso in that she was so fiercely protective of young Adam; woe betide anyone who dared harm or even speak over-harshly to the Prince. No; she alone was permitted to rule him and scold him and knock him about. And in time the jest had grown to be almost the truth; it was when she argued her father into allowing her to train with the Guard cadets – and when she started beating them in almost all their drills, that some wag had named her “the little captain” – and the name had stuck. Of course, few would call her little – or a tom-boy – these days; at least not to her face – and certainly never, ever twice. And so Prince Adam had a bodyguard – and a trainer, who harried him constantly and bullied him shamelessly and frequently despaired over his slack attitude. And yet in some strange way it worked, and he knew that he was fitter and stronger than he had ever been – and was secretly proud of the hard muscle he was steadily acquiring by his own efforts.

“Quit the stalling, you weakling – the sun’s already up.”

“Yeah; I wonder if he feels half as bad about it as I do.”

“How come you’re such an idiot?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” He grinned sidelong; self-deprecation was a speciality of his.

“I suppose I should just be glad that you’ve practiced at something.” She shook her head. “Come on, then – or there’ll be no breaking your fast for your sorry highness.”

Adam – though he never would admit it to her – actually rather enjoyed the dawn runs Teela had been inflicting on him; nor was he as slow and flatfooted as it suited his purpose to make out – not by a long way. All the same, the girl ran like a deer, swift and tireless, her bronze head with its floating skein of hair soon disappearing from view as the steepness of the track increased. Soon there was only birdsong, the rhythmic crunch of his footfalls and the sound of his breath as he ran, finding his pace and feeling just fine. His sword, slung on a baldric over his shoulder, bounced gently on his back – Teela always insisted on their taking personal arms on runs – “for the practice.” He smiled to himself as he ran; she thought of little else, bless her. Not that she was wrong, of course – the threat was real, ever-present, for Eternos was a kingdom beset by dark and dangerous enemies. But not of late – and surely not today; not on such a day with the sun climbing the skyline of the mountains and casting gold over the valleys below.

And then there was shouting echoing though the trees ahead – shouting and – the clash of blades! Adam’s heart leapt – and he leapt with it, sprinting uphill now at a pace that would have made even Teela take back most of her well-chosen words on his apparent lack of athletic prowess. And then a voice, shrill, female – called his name, and echoed off the rocks of the pass above, dying slowly into the trees.

Ad –d – d – d! Am –mmm!

And he gritted his teeth, looking suddenly older than his sixteen years, and tore on upwards. Even as he did so he heard engines start into life – and a sleek gray shape rose into the air above the dark line of the forest. The ship banked, turning sharply, and he heard the throttles open up as she lifted, accelerating low along the line of the road towards him. The roar of the ship mingled with Adam’s own roar of fury; it came on straight at him, but he did not flinch – his hand was already over his shoulder reaching for the hilt as he pounded on, snarling – and a stone turned under his foot and he fell, pitching forward heavily as the craft swept directly overhead, very nearly giving his hair a new and permanent parting. He lay a lengthy moment while colored lights danced intricate patterns across his eyes – and then he rose and made the best pace he still could on up the road. The echo of the ship’s passing sounded its last recessional; Adam was alone. Breathing heavily and limping a little he entered the trees; just as well that he had been forced to slow; someone had cunningly dug a shallow pit, right where the line of forest darkness stole a runner’s vision after the sunlight. Not only that, but two ropes were strung across the track at different heights. They had been well-prepared; he had to grant them that. And now they were gone – all but the one of them who would clearly not be leaving anytime soon. And gone too was Teela. Adam went over to examine the body; nothing to identify him, of course – but all his gear had a serviceable, well-worn look to it; his weapons were the only clean thing about him. Mercenaries, then, tasked with a mission – and one which had succeeded. At least for most of them it had. He rolled the body over, grimacing at the staring eyes gazing sightlessly up into his. Teela’s work? No; surely not – and yet? Adam sighed, and rose slowly to his feet. 

He must go back to the Palace and report what had befallen. There was no point in effecting the transformation – none at all. They were long gone now, far out of even He-Man’s reach. But perhaps not out of the range of Duncan’s scanners. Not that he relished telling Man-at-Arms that his daughter was gone – but it had to be done.  Securing the chape of his blade, Adam set off down the track at the best speed he could muster.

 

                                                                                                                      

© 2014 - 2024 omnivore7
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I look forwards to reading this!