In retrospect, the foolish woman's story is most strange, as it mirrors this scenario surprisingly well. Though she didn't start the current conflict, she did worsen it exponentially – by joining the Horde for her selfish pursuit of power.

❂❂❂

Hordak gazed at the felinetta.

Force Captain Carmen lay on a gurney, her naked body covered by a sheet. Hordak had personally gone to the morgue as soon as he'd heard about her death. He needed to see the damage himself.

The felinetta was only twenty-seven when she'd died – she was two years Hordak's senior, per the Etherian calendar. But she looked to be in her eighties. Her skin was crumpled and tainted with a sickly gray hue. There were no witnesses as to what happened, but Hordak was able to deduce the truth with an autopsy.

All the magic that resided in every Etherian creature...was gone. Sucked out, dulling the very color of the felinetta's tawny skin. And Hordak had a suspicion Shadow Weaver was responsible.

At first, he wanted to kill her, but now he realized her strength. They failed to secure the runestone from the Snows, but they still held Dellanova – a launching point of attack on the other kingdoms. And King Micah, Shadow Weaver's greatest weakness, was dead.

To kill his second-in-command now was not prudent. But as he gazed at the felinetta's limp, cold body, Hordak uncovered another reason. Shadow Weaver's treachery...confused him. Why would she betray him – and by extension, Horde Prime – for an enemy? Could it be like that flicker he sometimes felt, that moment between scholars?

Perhaps. But in Shadow Weaver's case, it was no tiny spark. Instead, it was a raging fire, pouring out through her and urging her to do things Hordak would have once thought impossible.

She loves him. Hordak didn't understand that term, love. What he'd never admitted to his second was that he'd investigated the meaning of this word himself. At first, he thought it similar to his admiration for Horde Prime, but now he saw it was less...divine.

It didn't matter. Not really. Shadow Weaver was still valuable to him; thus, she would be spared. For as treacherous as she was, Hordak still had no viable replacement.

✧✧✧

The first time Shadow Weaver met Micah, she was twenty-eight years old. As she stepped up to the cauldron, wearing a beautiful dress like a mythical starry night sky, she sensed the tension in the crowd. They were afraid of a loose cannon having a seat on the Guild.

She thought she didn't care – Shadow Weaver could help, right? She could be helpful to the Guild, making laws and suggesting policies to improve the lives of the people she ruled. That was worth any measly stigma.

Micah levitated high above the crowd with Veritas and Asteria – a human boy with almond-shaped eyes and unruly black hair. His skin held a gentle tan, and he was visible by his shabby hanfu. He looked vaguely familiar, but Shadow Weaver couldn't put her finger on how.

She focused on the ceremony. But afterward, the pauper actually came up to her. The boy introduced himself as Micah, son of Abraham of Tropicilas. That was when the familiarity clicked for Shadow Weaver – Micah was Sarah's child. Sarah of the Snows, the closest thing to a friend Shadow Weaver had back when she was courting Nell.

Shadow Weaver found him annoying. Didn't know what to do with him, especially given how poor his Meyan was. So she excused herself, also because she didn't want to stay in a vast crowd for too long. They could harm her at that time...

She wished she could have stayed.

She wished she was strong enough.

She wished she had not been born a monster.

For now, Shadow Weaver's closest friend was gone.

✧✧✧

Carmen heard humming. Soft, female humming in the most beautiful voice she'd ever known. The tune filled her with light, draining her fatigue away.

Slowly, she opened her eyes; Carmen's limbs were white, translucent.

"Small one," the voice said. "You are awake."

In front of Carmen, a massive creature stood. Her face bore four eyes and soft skin the same color as Queen Angella's, and her pure rose hair spread out on all sides. She wore a regal white robe and smiled at Carmen with rosy lips.

Carmen didn't know what to say. Hell, what could she say? She was mute now...

"You," the creature said, "can speak now. You are a spirit." She spoke without moving her mouth. The voice seemed familiar...

Carmen gasped. That's right. I died... "H...heya," she said softly. "Who're you? I heard you speakin' to me before I...um, came here."

"You have read about me," the creature said. "I am Seran. Mother of Time."

Carmen's eyes widened. "S...Seran. You're the goddess'f the Seraphites."

"And others," Seran confirmed. "They call me Amenity, but I am Lady of them all, including the one you call Raiya."

Carmen's face burned; the shame of all she'd done crashed upon her, as she'd known the right choice and didn't make it. Would she be condemned? Would Seran throw her into soul-sleep, the destiny of those who didn't repent?

"Mm," the goddess said. "Yes. You have shed innocent blood, not only of others but of yourself. This truth is."

Carmen looked down. "I... I'm sorry," she whispered her excuses as useless as a sand-sifter. "I didn't know how to...I thought..."

"Shhhh. This truth is. But your quest to find me also is. You were bound by Fulmination's hand – the Kryteya all are. At times, he takes even the most vulnerable and does not allow the veil to be lifted from their eyes." The goddess looked sad at this. "But I saw how you searched. How you questioned. You were meant to find me, Carmen, daughter of Asif of Tropicilas."

Asif. "You know my daddy?" Carmen exclaimed. "I...I was always just Carmen of Tropicilas. They never knew..."

"Do not fret," Seran said softly. "The names of your parents are Asif and Iesha. They are both here – this is."

Carmen sniffed. "And...an' Salam? Are they here? Will I get to see 'em?"

Seran nodded. "Salam...he is a mere child at this point. Seven years old – he needs a mother."

Carmen trembled with joy. Everyone she'd lost...all she yearned for...it was here. She wasted her life chasing a loveless, powerless deity. But now she could rest and lift the burden of perfection from her shoulders.

But one question remained. "Shads... what'll happen to her?"

Seran gave a long sigh. "Alura. My dearest Alura." A smile – sad but sincere – touched her lips. "She is within Fulmination's grasp and is determined to hide from herself. But before she dies, she will stop lying. Yet I cannot tell you what choice she will ultimately make."

"You don't know? But I thought –"

"I do know," Seran interrupted gently. "But I choose to spare you the heartache of knowing her fate, small one. She will be enslaved for a long time – suffering and causing suffering."

"Why, though?" Carmen cried. "Why not just free her now?"

Seran's eyes closed. "Because," she said, "the angels do not hold all seven spheres. The Spell of Obtainment, and the one you call Raiya, are of Incorrigibility. Hopelessness, Levity's lack. And Levity is not protected. To take it back for myself would contradict my very character."

"Then how can she be free?" Carmen said.

"Fret not, small one. On Etheria, there is one last hope, for not all my servants are angels. An eighth virtue exists, one which must be stored within a mortal soul. It passes from generation to generation and seeks a pure spirit to bond to."

"And what's the virtue, my lady?"

The goddess smiled. "Healing. This servant of mine is alive and in close proximity to the one you call Shadow Weaver. One day, she will grow up and discover her abilities. Then, she will save Alura and those you love."

"I gotcha," Carmen murmured. "It's...right difficult to trust again. After what I've been through..."

Seran nodded. "I understand, small one. It is for the best. I have plans for her, too – good plans. But she does not understand this yet. She will, as you will, someday. This truth is."

Carmen breathed out and nodded. "I'll accept it. Even if I don't get it."

"I know. You are a good woman, Carmen, daughter of Asif. And on that topic..." she held out a galaxy-sized hand. "Would you like to see your father, small one? I believe he wants to meet you."

Carmen shook with delight. She would see her daddy. Her daddy, mama, and little boy. The one whom she thought was unknown and lost forever.

And as Seran took her to the Realm of Glory, Carmen realized the goddess knit her life for a purpose. So the word Salam took on a new meaning – alsalam alsamawiu.

Heavenly Peace.

❂❂❂

Did you know...

- As a Christian, I'd deem the Seraphite's universal reconciliation heretical. However, I think it can be useful for the themes I'm trying to portray.

- I got the idea of the Spell aging people from Shadow Weaver's sunken eyes in S1 E11 during the flashbacks.

Tell me what you think...

- Who is the person who will eventually save Shadow Weaver?

- Will Shadow Weaver be able to show Hordak what love is? Why or why not?