Always Forever (Catradora)

Chapter Fifteen

Shadow Weaver

The night whispered its complaints to the stars above in hushed melodies as Shadow Weaver gently made her way throughout the dark corridor. Her eyes glinted as she allowed her hand to lightly trail against the wall as she moved forward.

Her eyes, shielded by her mask, were dark and tired. So god damned tired. She let a sigh escape as she continued to float, finally reaching her destination: Hordak's Sanctum.

Without giving herself time to chicken out of it, she made her way in; only to be almost completely swallowed by the depths of the room. The shadows weaved and twisted in response to her presence, trailing behind her until she reached the chair that held the man leaning tiredly against it. Then, they receded back into the depths. Hordak's eyes were tired. Much like her own.

Shadow Weaver's heart twinged slightly at the sight. For a moment, she sympathized with him. She shook her head. There was no time for that. She was here for... she struggled, realizing Hordak had never specified why she was here.

When she spoke, her voice was shaky, tattered and sore, "Lord Hordak? You wished to speak with me?"

His head raised, as if he was surprised by her presence. Not hostile towards it, just... surprised.

It took Hordak a short moment to realize what was going on as recollection filled his eyes and he cleared his throat, straightening up a bit.

Then, he spoke.

"Shadow Weaver... I have rather solemn news, to say the least," a soft chuckle escaped him. It was wry. Shadow Weaver narrowed her eyes. She was about to ask what he meant, when he raised a finger to silence her and sighed. "They have informed me that it's time... and...are going to recover what they have borrowed," he muttered carefully, examining her reaction in curiosity.

Immediately, Shadow Weaver bristled and slammed her hand into the wall. The shadows behind her shot up and darkened the room with their void-filled emptiness. "They can't!" She cried out, her eyes narrowing as Hordak chuckled again.

"They will; they don't care," he replied. Shadow Weaver managed to calm herself down enough so that the shadows obeyed her. Not her emotions.

Taking in a deep breath, Shadow Weaver folded her hands together calmly and gave a short bow. "Thank you for informing me, Lord Hordak, I will make sure I prepare for such events," she spoke calmly—to which Hordak tapped his fingers on his desk.

With that, Shadow Weaver turned and floated calmly out of the room. Tranquil before a disaster. Calm before the storm. Hordak sighed and placed his hand to his cheek.

"Are you really okay with this?" He muttered.

Once Shadow Weaver had returned to her room, she stopped in front of her mirror. Hesitantly. Then, she lifted her fingers gently to her mask, allowing them to wrap around its rough edges. There, she hesitated.

She was going to lose another.

The mask was whipped through the air and slammed into the ground, chipping at the impact. Staring back at her was a broken woman, with a broken life. Staring. Tears pooling from her eyes and dribbled to the floor.

"Agh!! Damn it!" She spat, throwing a punch into the wall as her sobs began to rack her body. The result was a sort of wheezing to escape as she slowly fell to the ground and curled up, hugging her knees.