Chapter 3: Ne Laissez Pas Cela M'être Enlevé

25 0 2
                                    

"I've done all I can, but that's definitely going to scar." Perfuma said, wrapping bandages around her arm. "Dark magic like that often leaves a mark."

"There's nothing you can do?" Light Spinner poked concernedly at her bandaged forearm, the edges of the raw, open wounds poking out of the edges.

"They'll fade with time, but there's nothing else we can do. You're lucky it wasn't able to corrupt you." Castaspella said. "Why did you do that? Why did you step in and save... everyone?"

"I would die to protect Mystacor, and... my friends." She replied honestly. "I have never had a true friend before, and the Princesses, they've given so much in order to make me feel at home here, in this time. It was all I could do to repay them."

"Do you really not remember anything?" Castaspella asked.

Light Spinner looked up at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Forget I said anything." Castaspella stood up and left.

"Don't mind her." Perfuma said, applying a salve to her skin. "Her brother was almost killed by that monster as a child, so- Is your skin always this dry?"

"It's not dry." Light Spinner replied. "My father was a changeling. It's natural for my skin to be slightly scaly."

"So can you...?"

"Unfortunately, I lack a natural penchant for transformation magic. I am limited to simple spellcasting at the moment." Light Spinner replied.

"That's unfortunate. It would be interesting if you could shapeshift." Perfuma replied.

"Interesting?" Light Spinner laughed. "I agree, it would be interesting. But I cannot channel that magic any more than you can harness Scorpia's Runestone."

Perfuma was silent for a moment. "I hope your arm doesn't hurt too much."

"It stings, but the salve helps." Light Spinner admitted. "I was a fool for trying to face that thing alone."

"You were trying to save everyone. It was a selfless decision, even if it was a little rash." Perfuma replied, growing a bunch of daisies in her hands and handing them to Light Spinner. "Get well soon."

What do those do? Glimmer asks, pointing accusingly at her garden. Shadow Weaver sighs.

They're daisies. I find them cheerful. She replies exasperatedly, passive-aggressively snipping a rose stem. She will find a way to twist Bright Moon's princess to her will, and when she does, there will be a reckoning.

When she flashes back to the present, the vision is surprisingly clear in her mind. Was it possible? Was she somehow, in another life, the cruel Horde second-in-command that had caused so much pain and suffering to the people she now called friends? No. She refused to be that person. Even in the impossibility that she was Her , she would not be that person. She would rather die.

"Would we still be friends, if I wasn't a good person?" Light Spinner asked.

"I mean, sure, if you were willing to change. Adora, Scorpia, Catra... Even the Hordaks were able to change, to become better people." Perfuma shrugged. "With some of them... well, Hordak mostly- it's harder to trust. But they're showing that they're trying to change, and slowly, it makes it easier to trust them."

"Speaking of Hordak..." Entrapta poked her head into the room. "Say hi, Ron!"

The Horde Prime clone followed Entrapta in, carrying a tray of tiny cupcakes. "Hello. I don't believe we've met. My name is Ron. Ron Hordak."

Maledictus RenascentisWhere stories live. Discover now