Escaping Corruption (Seasons 1-3)

S3 - Poppies and war

"Queen Angella? King Micah?"

The small servant bows low, holding out a silver tray with a singular envelope on it.

"For you: From Senator Benes."

Angella plucks it from the tray gingerly, sharing a look with Micah.

"Thank you. You are dismissed."

The servant vanishes, as Micah opens the envelope, and jumps up in his seat.

"Micah, what is it?!" Angella frowns, somewhat alarmed by his reaction.

"Aziphiya is at war with the rest of Purrsia. They are asking for an alliance with Brightmoon."

"I see...But C'yra's offsprings have put Glimmer in danger far too many times. Should we side with her?"

Micah is quiet.

"It wouldn't be fair, would it...? Aziphiya is one small piece of land in a massive Empire. C'yra doesn't need help. Senator Benes does. We should side with the Senate, shouldn't we?"

Angella sighs.

"We should. And we shall. I'll write a response, accepting an alliance, immediately. We'll send troops at nightfall."

Micah nods.

"Right. Okay."

He doesn't mention the death of Aeris.

~~~~~~

Amato is quite sure his wife is going mad.

And not the good kind.

He leans against the tower pillar, watching her adjust her sword sheath as she stares down into the courtyard. Where the whole of Halfmoons army has found itself.

Across Purrsia, every army was preparing for all-out war. Especially now that Brightmoon is getting involved.

No doubt the rest of the alliance princesses will follow Angella's decision.

But the Horde would stay neutral. An odd choice. But they suppose Hordak wouldn't side with the woman he'd sent to Beast Island to die, nor would he side with the Princess Alliance.

Still.

Now, the former Emperor and Empress of Purrsia watch as their armies form, practicing, perfecting, to avenge Aeris' death.

For a moment, Amato wonders where Catra is.

He misses her.

But he knows, no matter what, she can hold her own.

She wouldn't be Catra if she couldn't.

That was just who she is.

But that doesn't mean he isn't worried. His daughters just vanished one day, one turned up dead over bigotry, while the other is still missing during the greatest war of all time.

The War of the Huntress, as it was known in the Halfmoon papers.

He whispers a quick prayer up to Moros, pleading for her safety, before taking his place next to his wife and sealing his fate.

~~~~~

Catra scrapes her twenty-third triangle into the dirt.

Puca paces the room behind her.

They aren't sure how long has passed since she'd been imprisoned, but it was certainly more than a day or two.

A scary thought, with the nearing apocalypse. How long do they have?

Will this cell be the last thing they'd ever see before being erased from existence?

Catra shudders, and pulls back from the filthy floor.

"Well, little goddess, any ideas?" Puca's voice is low, patronising, condescending.

"Yes, actually," She's lying, but she's always been good at that, "Do your powers still work?"

He stops in his tracks, and frowns.

"I...I'm not quite sure."

"You've been here for about a month, and never tried your powers?"

"The thought never occurred to me."

"Idiot."

"Cut it out, sunshine."

She smirks, and gets to her feet.

She can see her reflection in the dirty floor she's scrubbed clean, and realises Morrigan has transformed himself into a necklace of sorts.

Good boy.

"My powers work just fine, even if yours don't. So, shall we make our attempt later on?"

He pauses, assessing her plan.

But sighs, in the end.

"We shall, goddess."

Catra smirks.

Oh, she is winning.