"I don't like it, Papa," she said. "But then I dare say soldiers - even brave ones - don't really like going into battle."
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, A Little Princess

january

The queen bore identical twins, both healthy and blonde, and loved them with all she had the moment she laid eyes on them. The king might have loved them even more, if that were possible.

Love wasn't the only thing in the room at the birth, though. The Sorceress of Castle Grayskull wasn't a gloomy person, per se, but her presence always brought the sense of gloom impending. Probably just a side effect of her ability to see the future.

"Their hybrid blood will make them strong," she predicted. "Half Earth, half Eternia. There's never been anything like it."

King Randor smiled and kissed his wife's forehead. "Strong and perfect."

"They've been born for a purpose," the Sorceress said. "We must inform Light Hope."

"Yes, yes!" Randor agreed, too caught up in his joy to be deterred by her solemness. "Tell Light Hope, tell all Etheria, tell the whole galaxy and beyond. These two will bring such glory to the empire!"

The Sorceress kept her attention on the children. The second-born infant, cradled in Queen Marlena's right arm, seemed to particularly hold her interest. Marlena pursed her lips and pulled the baby closer to her chest, as if she could shield it from that piercing psychic gaze.

"And more," the Sorceress said.

april

Eternian tradition was to wait to name a child until they had been fully weaned―just a leftover from earlier times, when infant mortality had been much higher. Back then it was a precaution, but now it was a whole ceremony, especially for children as important as these two. That didn't stop Marlena from brainstorming a little early, though.

"I just want something...simple, and classic," she said one evening, lounging in bed with the four-month-old children asleep on her chest and her husband by her side. "Anne or Elizabeth or something."

Randor wrinkled his nose. "Are those even names?"

"They're Earth names," Marlena laughed, tucking herself into the nook of his shoulder. "They're perfectly lovely American girls' names."

"We'll give one of them an Earth name. The other has to be normal."

The baby on her left breast stirred a little, squirming and squeaking without waking.

"You know what's silly?" Marlena said softly.

"What?"

"There's one name that I've been attached to since I was little. I've always wanted to have a child named Adam." She sighed. "But I can't now, since they're both―"

"There, then," Randor said, pointing. "We'll call that one Adam."

Marlena opened her mouth to argue―then closed it. She smiled and ticked her tongue. "I always forget how useless the concept of gender I grew up with is here."

"Your Majesties!"

In unison they both looked up at the cry from the hall, now calling for them by names. Randor leapt to his feet and out the door; Marlena gingerly tried to sit up without disturbing the babies. Soon the shouting was accompanied by the sound of approaching footsteps, running desperately toward them, fighting past the murmurs of passing guards and courtiers. One baby she managed to lower silently into the crib; the other started fussing.

"News, Your Majesties! From Etheria! Dire news!"

Marlena gasped. "Etheria?"

She shifted the baby's weight on her shoulder and pushed into the hallway. Randor stood worriedly before a panting, doubled-over messenger. From their red face and mussed clothing, they looked nigh fresh from a battlefield.

"Is the Heart online?" Randor asked. "Is it ready?"

The messenger shook their head, grimacing. "No, sire, it's―it's the opposite. Mara―she―she turned against us all, she―"

"Calm yourself, swift one." Randor gently held the messenger's shoulder and motioned for an attendant to assist them. "You can catch your breath before you tell the whole tale."

"Tell us one thing," Marlena countered, chasing them. "Where is Mara now? If she turned against us, has she been stopped? Imprisoned?"

"She's dead," the messenger huffed. "She's gone. She, the other colonists, the whole―the whole planet."

Marlena raised a hand to her mouth. The messenger managed to lift their weary head and look at her.

"Etheria is gone."

may

Adam matured faster than the second-born twin. A month after Marlena picked the name, the official ceremony was held―yet the other child still clung to her mother's breast, nameless.

"Despite your father's best efforts," Marlena murmured to the baby. "I am not calling you Veena."

She knew this one was a girl, for certain. She could feel the child's own certainty in her heart. Adam's decision on the subject remained to be seen―whether they'd accord with the name or with Marlena's first notions or with something else entirely was up to whoever they grew up to be.

Marlena shifted the little princess's weight in her arms and wandered out to the empty balcony outside her bedroom. It was quiet all around; Randor still had Adam in the great hall with the rest of the naming party. The old orange sun was setting over the warm horizon. The whole kingdom seemed peacefully drowsy, full and relaxed, ready for a long nap after a satisfactory day's work. People below her were talking, laughing, playing; trees rustled and breathed; in the distance, the desert glittered.

She exhaled, shoulders dropping, and let herself be swept away in the view.

"I love this planet," she said.

"Mm, it's not bad."

She jumped at the new voice, clutching her baby close, but quickly loosened.

"If it isn't the powerful Man-At-Arms, back from another noble conquest," she teased. "Why aren't you downstairs?"

Duncan stepped onto the balcony. "I didn't want my dramatic return to interrupt your kid's party."

"Randor will want to see you. If not for the kids, you'd be the only thing he would have talked about all month."

"I'll see him in a minute." Duncan lay his hands on the balcony railing and stared out over it. He didn't seem concerned with the landscape, as Marlena had been―he looked up, at the stars peeking out into the dusk.

Marlena tilted her head. "Did everything on your mission go all right?"

"Phemera-7 is back under Eternian control, though the Horde put up a few battles. But that's not what I wanted to talk about." He drummed his fingers on the railing. "I've been in contact with Light Hope."

"What? How?" Marlena gasped. "They said Mara completely destroyed Etheria."

"She didn't destroy it―she stole it. She pulled the entire planet into Despondos. But Light Hope has been working all this time to get through."

"How could she get through from Despondos in just a month of work?"

Duncan shook his head. "It's outside of time as well as space. According to the last message she sent, for her it's been over nine hundred years."

Marlena stepped back.

The baby woke and started fussing. Marlena lightly hushed her, grateful for the distraction from her shock.

She paced back into the room, bouncing the baby and rifling through her thoughts in a vain attempt to organize them.

"Nine hundred years," she repeated. "Then Mara must really be dead by now."

"She killed herself and the rest of her mission in the process of her betrayal," Duncan said. "But the native population was preserved."

"If Light Hope can send messages, could she open a full portal?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Duncan hesitated. "Yes. But not very well."

"What does that mean?"

"The last battle for Phemera-7, a portal opened. It was only open for a second, and all it sucked through was a defective clone and his broken ship, but it led to Etheria. If she managed it once, and if I reach back out to her...we might be able to open a second one."

"We need to. We need to send someone else to wield the Heart."

The princess had fallen quiet by now. Marlena propped her up on her lap, holding her little wrist in one hand and supporting her back with the other. The baby blinked and burbled, her eyes big and wet and impossibly bright blue.

They were intelligent eyes, too. Focused. Unwavering. Pure and curious and purposeful, studying her.

"What are you thinking now?" Duncan asked warily.

"The Sorceress said my children were born for a purpose," Marlena said. "She said their blood would make them strong. Stronger than Mara, maybe."

"We can't wait for her to grow up. If a month here is nearly a millennium there―"

"If she grows up on Etheria, she can connect with the sword earlier." Her voice was low and flat. "More securely. It'd be intertwined with her whole being."

"You'd let Eternia lose an heir to the throne?"

"Light Hope will bring her back to us. And in the meantime...we'll still have another."

"The king won't see it that way."

Marlena stood and crossed to the baby's crib, lining up her information in silence. Etheria was still out there. The native population was preserved―that meant the Runestones, the princesses. The Heart of Etheria was still a viable weapon. All they needed was a new She-Ra to wield it. An Earth-blooded, Eternian-born, Etherian-raised princess―a triple-planet hybrid―could be the strongest She-Ra ever made. All they needed was a portal to put her through. All that could stop them was a parent's own indecision.

"Then let's do it now," she said. "Before he can find out."

"Your Majesty, I insist you―"

Marlena whirled on him. "Remember your place, Man-at-Arms! I insist!"

"Your child―"

"My planet!" she cut him off. "If we don't press every advantage we have, take every possibility for every opportunity to be stronger than the Horde―"

"Is beating the Horde more important than raising your own child?" Duncan asked. "Knowing they're safe, and loved?"

"It's more important than everything! Every day the Horde encroaches on the borders of our empire, threatening our peace, defying our ways, conquering and destroying without reason or remorse―" She sucked in a deep breath. "With a strong enough She-Ra in Etheria, we could wipe them from the sky and be rid of them forever. My child has that strength. And if you continue to question me on this, then as your queen I will hold you suspect of treason."

Man-at-Arms stood back, fists clenched at his sides. He inclined his head in a slight bow.

"Alright," he said. "I'll take you to Castle Grayskull."

The Sorceress was expecting them. She opened the door and bowed as they approached.

"I take it you know why we're here," Duncan drawled as they entered. "And can tell Marlena she's crazy without fear of repercussion."

Marlena shot him a glare, but Duncan had already settled into bitter acceptance, and couldn't be cowed further.

"No. She isn't crazy. In fact...I empathize."

She beckoned them toward a staircase. Marlena pressed the baby's face into her shoulder and followed; Duncan nodded to the Sorceress and jogged ahead.

"I've been working on reaching back to Light Hope for several weeks now," the Sorceress said as they descended. "It won't take much more for the portal to be ready."

Marlena pinched her lips together. Duncan was much further in front of them now. She held her quiet child a little tighter. "I'm doing the right thing, then?"

"You're doing an incredibly difficult thing," the Sorceress said without looking at her. "And I know how it's tearing you apart."

Marlena held her breath. Duncan had reached the bottom of the stairs now, and disappeared through a door.

"Tell me." She stopped walking and clutched a hand to the back of the baby's head. "Is it going to work?"

The Sorceress paused.

Marlena took one more step, to stand on the Sorceress's same level. "Tell me all of this isn't going to be in vain. Will she become She-Ra? Will she destroy the Horde?"

"She will wield the Sword of Protection," the Sorceress said, slow and deliberate, carefully choosing her words―not like she was coming up with a lie, though; Marlena could tell she was absolutely convicted of what she said. "And in her hands it will be…glorious."

"Will she be happy?"

The Sorceress was silent for a long time. She looked at the baby. She looked at Marlena.

"Yes."

Marlena swallowed, shoving down a heaviness in her throat and forcing her demeanor to steel. "Will she be loved?"

"Yes."

This time the answer was immediate. Marlena's steel became foil, thin and fragile as paper. Relieved, happy, overjoyed―but fragile.

"Go." The Sorceress stepped back and bowed toward the door at the bottom of the stairs. "The portal is ready."

The gate was a circle of dark metal, empty against the wall, dotted with flashing lights and buttons and wrapped with wires like overgrown vines. A loose rope of cords connected the frame to a heavy lever on the ground, where Duncan solemnly waited.

Marlena lowered the baby from her shoulder―awake but still―and cradled her head in the crook of her elbow. The baby blinked up at her and squinted. She cupped her round cheek in one hand and kissed her hot forehead.

"You must be strong, little one," she whispered. "You must be brave."

At her nod, Duncan hefted the lever forward.

A crackle of energy sparked in the center of the empty gateway. Then all at once it blazed to fill the circle, lightning-white and buzzing. Marlena held up an arm over her eyes, resisting the urge to step back.

The white turned to violet, still sizzling and popping at the edges, and then gave way to a clear view of an overgrown field and starless sky. Etheria.

"If you're going to do it, do it!" Duncan urged. "I can't keep it open long!"

Gritting her teeth, Marlena pushed forward, arms held forth. The portal flashed. The baby started crying.

"I'm sorry, little one," Marlena coughed, stretching to hold her further away from herself. "I'm so sorry, darling, I'm―"

She was standing on Etherian ground. The portal coiled electric purple arms out to her, tugging her back. She bent, strained, knelt, struggling against the portal's pull.

The baby cried louder. She laid her down in the pale grass.

"Get back through! It's closing!"

Marlena forced her head upward, but kept her hands on the child's blanket. She didn't want to see her face when she let go―

There was something moving at the edge of the field.

"Your Majesty!"

Moving fast, something dark, and tall―someone, with a white face and glinting armor―

"Marlena!"

sprinting towards her―

Duncan grabbed her arm and forcibly yanked her back.

Marlena crashed to the floor, and the portal snapped shut. The smell of burnt rubber attacked the room―the soles of her boots had just barely made it through.

"No," she breathed. "No, Duncan, reopen it―reopen the portal! We have to take her back!"

"We can't. That was―" Duncan was doubled over, panting, clutching the portal's disabled lever for support. "It's too much. We've lost all connection to Light Hope for good now."

"No!" She shoved to her feet and slammed her fists against the empty wall behind the gate. "No, no, no! We can't leave her there with―"

"Your Majesty, you knowingly decided this," Duncan said, swallowing his breath and lowering his voice. "I know how you must be feeling, but―"

"The Horde," Marlena cut him off. "I saw a Horde clone, right there, and it saw me and it saw the portal and it's going to take her and it's―it's going to take her. We lost her. We've…"

She stopped.

And then she whirled and strode toward the stairs, fists clenched, the tears on her face vaporizing. Her stride became a run, and she was storming alone through the castle, not caring about the pain each hard step sent arcing through her legs, not caring that Duncan was still calling after her―

She burst out onto the balcony, where the Sorceress was watching carefully over the landscape. The Sorceress spun at her entrance. "Marlena―"

"You lied to me. You lied to me!" Marlena shouted, shoving the Sorceress's shoulders. "Fix the portal! Bring her back!"

The Sorceress stumbled back against the railing, but didn't raise a hand to defend herself.

"I did not lie," she said softly.

"You told me she would be safe!"

"She will be loved. And years from now, she will―"

"How many years?!"

"Marlena, I promise you," the Sorceress pleaded, "she will grow up adored. Mothers will give their lives for her, lovers will tear their hearts to shreds for her―"

Marlena shoved her again. "And my life? My heart?"

"A casualty of war."

The queen let out a wordless roar and flung herself away, hands held to her head. The Sorceress gingerly pushed herself up from the balcony railing and squared her shoulders.

Marlena didn't look back at her; didn't wait for Duncan.

When she returned home, shaking and singed and alone, Randor couldn't bring himself to press when she refused to answer his questions. She collapsed into his arms and cried silently.

january

Adam was just-now two years old and apparently firmly set on becoming a lively, charming, rambunctious young prince. His nurses could barely keep track of him sometimes. Fortunately, now Duncan had a child of his own, and had gotten quite good at controlling Adam as well as his own little Teela.

Still, though, there were times like this where Adam would break free of his caretakers, and take off running as fast as his pudgy legs could take him into his mother's study.

"Mama!" Adam squealed, reaching her chair and tapping earnestly at her thigh. "Mama, see! Mama, see me!"

Marlena leaned back and smiled at him. "I see you. You want up?"

"Up! Up!"

"You're lucky I'm not really working this time." She reached over and lifted him into her lap. "Just...looking at old pictures."

"Leela?" Adam asked, pointing at the holopad lying on the desk. It was displaying a photograph of a two-month-old infant, dressed in fluttery gold and white, head adorned with flowers and a tiny brass tiara.

"Are you trying to say Teela?" Marlena chuckled. "Can you make the 't' sound?"

Adam proudly bared his front teeth. "Tih, tih, tih."

"Can you say 'tee'?"

"Tee."

"Now say 'la.'"

"La."

"Now say 'Teela.'"

"Leela."

"Oh, you'll get it eventually," Marlena surrendered. She leaned back and let Adam situate himself more comfortably in her lap, facing the desk.

He pointed again at the image on her holopad. "Leela."

"No, that's not Teela," Marlena said softly. "That's your little sister."

"What's a lil sisser?"

"Mama and Papa had another baby when you were born," she explained. "She was your little sister."

"Anov―amoth―" Adam struggled through the syllables. "Nover baby?"

"Mm-hm. But she died, in an accident, when you were both very little."

He bounced. "Nover baby! Leela!"

There was no changing his mind, it seemed. "That's alright. Teela's all the little sister you need." She kissed the top of his head. "And you're the only baby I need."

"I'm a big boy."

"You are a big boy. But you're also my baby."

He was bored of talking. He pushed up to his feet and fell forward onto her chest, gnawing and drooling at the collar of her dress.

Marlena softly stroked his feathery hair, staring at her holopad. Staring at her lost little princess.

But she wasn't a princess. She'd never even been given a name. And now she was long gone. Vanished and dead. And Eternia had all it needed without her.

Marlena reached forward and tapped the bottom of the screen to pull up a small menu. The baby's picture faded behind it.

Delete image?

This is permanent and cannot be undone.

OK / CANCEL

She pursed her lips and tapped OK.