Escaping Corruption (Seasons 1-3)

S3 - A bitter scheme

'WHERE is the idiot anyway?'

Avena glances over her shoulder.

'I'm right here.' Payam grumbles.

'Suprisingly enough, I'm not talking about you this time. Where is Catra? Has she finally given up?'

'Not a chance, Avena D'riluth.'

Catra stands atop a hill.

Her hair is pulled back into a tight braid. She's dressed in a leather tunic and trousers, a slate grey fur lined cloak billowing from her shoulders.

Avena gazes up at her with a shifting expressionà.

'Catra, I have done nothing but push you, and you are still trying?'

'Avena. My family, my friends, my world. Is at stake. There is not a thing in this fate forsaken universe that could make me forfeit my decision to take matters into my own hands and save this fucking life. Cast me away if you want. I'll find someone else. I am a goddess, Avena. I obey no will but my own.' Her words echo with serenity and pride.

Avena falters.

'One last test. Catra. One last test, then I'll help.'

'Bring it on.'

~~~~~~

Gata remembers many things.

She remembers Naeva entering the castle for the first time, bounc8ng on her heels, excited to begin her training as a guard. She remembers praying for her soul once she gets out on the battlefield. For the horrors that she would eventually unveil.

She can also recall many memories with C'yra. She recalls those instead of her own memories, it's less painful on her heart.

She remembers her coronation. The dresses, the etiquette classes, the history and geography lessons and all the exhausting nights packed to the dawn in the study explaining how trades, different affairs, diplomacy and all other mandatory responsibilities are tackled.

Gata remembers it all. The tears, the fainting, the frowning, the crying.  All of it.

Gata had born witness to the creation of a strong Empress. But lives long enough to recount the fall too.

She'd been there for every scream. Every yell. Every breakdown. And every event.

And yet she stays.

The easiest thing for her to witness had been the birth of Lyric.

When it had first be announced that the Empress bore a child, Gata had expected her to be frightened. To be stressed, terrified, fearful.

Chajl had still ruled over Purrsia with the aid of his daughter, as Avena had been long gone by that time.

He would have influence over his granddaughter. He could corrupt her if he as much as wished on a whim.

So you can imagine Gata's surprise when the Empress was elated of all things.

"What do you suppose she'll look like? Amato or myself?!'

Gata had rolled her eyes at the time. She had been fourteen though, she resented children.

"She'll be messy and gross and will shit and cry everywhere, my lady. She may as well be a seagull.'

Gata's comment did not put her down in the slightest, in fact, C'yra beamed at her, a wide grin pulling creases around her eyes and her hands falling over her bloating stomach.

"I must disagree, Miss Senoria, her name will be Lyric for a reason. She is more a songbird than a seagull. The stars tell us.'

"Aren't you afraid? If your father figures out your deception, he may use her against you.'

C'yra's smile fades.

'Oh, Gata, I am utterly gutted. I already know that because of him, I will fall short in a thousand different ways as a parent. But I'll have you know that even that is massively more than he or my mother ever did. I'll be damned if I turn out like my parents, Senoria. I'm quite sure I'll take a knife to the throat if I do.'

Gata didn't say anything to that.

Another time, she had watched a trial.

Six months prior, Puca bound and kneeling in the centre of a massive golden birdcage.

She had stood beside Lilith, with her delicate ice features and trailing white gown.

She pretended not to hear her sniffling as Puca was sentenced.

She ignored the flashes of panic on his face as Catra declared his punishment.

She watched intently as his body transformed, writhing, twisting, into a plump little pig.

And another time.

Worse than the last.

Standing in Catra's study, her muscles aching and her eyes stinging.

Mere days after the War of Nocturnia.

'Catra, with all due respect. Naeva is dead! And despite the protests you are glorifying the gods who trampled her body and pushed it to the world beyond?!'

Her yelling had not even caught a flinch from the Empress.

'Gata Senoria. Of all people, I believed you would know best why I let it happen. I don't encourage, nor do I punish those who do. We don't get a choice who tells our story. But we can control the world's view. Don't worry, I have everything under control. They will pay for their insolence.'

Catra had paused.

'They will pay for the miserable injustice of Naeva's death. I promise you.'

Gata had believed her just as much as she did now, sitting at the edge of a cliff, cigar in hand, singed dress mushrooming around her in the wind.

And if you had not already guessed, that meant she did not believe her at all.

Though, in all honesty, Gata wouldn't know trust if it came up, offered her a lollipop and smacked her ass.

Frankly, neither would Catra.

Her eyes close.

She breathed out a long, dwindling puff of smoke.

The breeze picked up.

'Catra, you better be fucking right.' She hisses to herself, as she drops the cigar down into the canyon below, getting to her feet and turning away.

The wind whistles in her ears. The trees and bushes rustle.

An eerie silence fogs over the sector of Beast Island.

Our of the corner of her eyes, Gata swears she sees a flash of white across the coastline.

She swallows, and stumbles back as a tremor rumbles through the island.

She begins to run.

She needs to warn C'yra and Amato.