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The Dereskian Queen	By : LadyMoria Category: +G through L > He-Man Views: 2856 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own He-man, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter Eleven: The Borderline Fades
Part Four

The Dereskian Queen looked frantically around the area for any clues that might lead to her sister’s whereabouts. She looked down upon the ground and noticed a pair of footprints she hadn’t seen upon entering. The footprints were large, square, and ill placed, too much so to belong to either of their graceful strides.
She followed them and noticed that they came from the east, and led towards the north. The footprints leading toward the tree were deep but not overly so, and the spacing indicated a long stride, probably a man’s. The footsteps leading away from the tree were deeper, which Caerlin could not understand. She looked around the ground again, and realized she could not find any of her sister’s prints. The man had been carrying her, which explained the depth of his footprints.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Caerlin quickly ran north, following the footprints and the path that they led to.
Moria was dumped onto the ground thoughtlessly. The sudden pain jolted her out of unconsciousness. She looked around, putting a hand on her head to relieve a sudden throbbing headache. She did not recognize where she was. The last thing she remembered was sitting in the tree, waiting for Caerlin to come back with food. Caerlin! The thought of her sister made Moria sit up and look for her. Her elder sister was nowhere to be seen. Instead, directly in front of her was a man she had seen before. Now, what had Caerlin called him in the dungeon? Mindor, Captain Mindor, if she remembered correctly.
She shakily tried to get to her feet, but a spasm of pain shot up her left calf. She crumpled onto the ground. She whirled around as a sudden burst of laughter erupted from the Eternian. She paid him no mind, instead studying her leg. In addition to being knocked unconscious, it seemed her kidnapper had also sliced her leg from calf to ankle, cutting a major nerve, which is why had hadn’t felt anything until trying to stand. Her entire leg had gone numb.
Moria looked up at her captor as he grinned wickedly down at her. “Moria…” he said, drawing out her name and pronouncing it by each syllable slowly. “The one weakness of the mighty Dereskian Queen,” he spoke in her own language, smiling wickedly.
Moria smiled sweetly. “Your grasp of the Dereskian pronoun is admirable, Captain Mindor. But your accent is atrocious,” her eyes whirled, and, had Mindor known what this was usually an indication of, he surely would have quivered. As it was, he was mildly confused.
The younger sister of the Dereskian Queen laughed softly. “So, Captain Mindor. Here you have me, crippled and quite beyond posing any threat, far out of the reach of my sister. What is your next step? What does the Eternian rulebook say you should do next? You’re so clever, to have gotten me here all to yourself. Do be a good boy and lift this all-consuming veil of secrecy.”
Mindor’s hand snaked out and grabbed the Dereskian by the throat. “Do not push me! You know very well I’m going to kill you, so unless you truly do not value your life, I would advise you to not push me!”
Moria’s face was the epitome of calm. She smiled softly, having a little trouble breathing but not letting it show. “Why?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “You’re going to kill me anyway, you said so yourself. What does it matter what I say to you?”
He lifted her up off the ground, raising her to eye level and higher, until her feet, which would not have been able to support her anyway, could no longer touch the ground. She was slammed hard into the side of a tree. Grinning, Mindor let her fall.
She drd tod to the ground like a sack of flour, collapsing into a pile, her wounded leg falling beneath her. She winced as her position sent another burst of pain shooting up her calf. Breathing heavily, Moria looked with hooded eyes at her captor, who was smiling above her. He reached beneath his cloak at his side and removed the large battle-ax that hung there. The ax was a double-bladed, heavy monstrosity made of solid steel with a cast iron handle. The handle was engraved with the words of an Eternian battle poem and unfinished carvings of the Eternian cap captains of history.
Moria looked up at the weapon, repulsed by its crudity and sheer ugliness.
“Like it?” Mindor asked her, testing the blade with his thumb. “It’s an heirloom. It’s been past down from father to son in my family for generations. Never served me wrong yet.”
“Evidently,” Moria spat, her eyes showing nothing but raw hatred. “You’re still alive, which is a wonder if that unfinished piece of vulgarity is what you used against my people. Tell me, captain: how many of the Dereskïgiä fell to that makeshift heap of metal?”
The Eternian’s eyes burned. “Not enough!” he screamed, bringing the weapon down in a swift stroke. Moria tucked in her shoulders and rolled, bringing herself out of the way of the weapon and close to Mindor’s side. As he struggled to remove his blade from the root system of the tree, she reached behind him and grasped the sword that lay in the scabbard at his back.
This then, was a true weapon, she decided. Definitely Dereskian made, probably taken from the dead body of one of the soldiers before he ordered his men to burn everything down. She sliced his leg as he finally freed his weapon, causing him to buckle. She had not sliced the skin deep enough to hit the nerve, so he got to his feet after a moment.
Mindor whirled, wielding the battle-ax like some deranged form of primitive man. His teeth clenched together in concentration as he swung again.
Moria blocked his attack with her sword, using the force behind his blow to pivot on her knees, swinging the sword around to cut into his upper calves. He groaned in pain, using his free hand to clutch at his legs while his battle-ax came down at her in a sidestroke.
She reached up with her free hand, latching onto his arm and again used his own momentum against him. She swung her arms sideways, causing herself to basically springboard into the air, while simultaneously making him fall flat on his face. She landed on top of him, digging her knees into his back while dragging the very tip of her sword blade along the base of his neck. She barely drew blood, only letting him realize how easy it would be for her to kill him, even weakened as she was.
“Care to give up now, Captain Mindor?” she asked in the kindest tone possible.
He struggled beneath her like a wounded bear, yelling “Never!” he twisted beneath her, rolling Moria off of his back and bringing his ax around for another swing.
Moria had fallen and landed on her back, her arms splayed out like some strange sort of sacrifice. The sword had fallen from her grasp. She saw it lying on the ground not too far away. She reached out her hand for it, as a large foot came crashing down upon the hilt.
Mindor sent his battle-ax down, using both hands to grip the handle. Moria twisted at the last possible moment, rolling down out of the way and falling towards the south.
She ran into the tree, a root system slamming her hard in her chest. She looked up through half-lidded eyes as she tried to regain her breath. Her face was turned southward, and she thought for a moment she could just see moon-colored hair in the distance, coming closer.
She squinted her eyes, and didn’t hear Mindor come up behind her. “Caerlin,” she whispered, reaching out a hand to the distant form of her sister.
“Will never get to you in time,” the Eternian finished behind her, and swung his ax in a side swoop. Moria heard his words, and felt the air move as he swung his battle-ax.
She closed her eyes and emptied herself of emotion, as Caerlin had taught her. The battle-ax hit with a loud clunk, but it did not hit her. She had vanished and appeared on the other side of the tree.
Mindor swore and blasphemed all the gods as he tried to pull his weapon out of the tree. Leaning against said tree, Moria waved, smiling as her sister climbed the small hill.
Caerlin felt a small breath of relief escape her. Moria was still alive. She did not slow her pace, but she saw her sister wave and she waved back, smiling as well.
She saw Mindor pull his ax out of the tree, and, in the process, dislodge a heavy system of roots, which the tree used for support. With these roots gone, the tree began to slowly sway. The Eternian realized what was happening and pushed against the tree with all his weight, hacking at the remainder of its roots with his ax.
Caerlin watched in horror as, almost instantly, the tree began to topple. Moria did not realize what was happening until it was too late.
When the dust and dirt had cleared, the tree had fallen, and, beneath it, laid the crumpled form of the only other living Dereskian.
Caerlin was still for a moment, her eyes wide and her mouth open in horror.
“Moria!” she screamed at last, running towards the fallen form of her sister. The tree had only fallen upon her lower half. By some miracle, her younger sister had twisted at the last minute, freeing her face and torso from imprisonment.
“Caerlin,” she gasped as her sister knelt down before her.
Her elder sister put her hands to her sister’s lips. “Shh,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t try to talk. Save your strength.”
“Caerlin…” Moria continued, looking beyond her sister. “B-behind you,” she said with as much urgency as she could muster.
Caerlin turned as she felt the shadow of Mindor come over her. Before he could even raise his battle-ax, a strange sort of black fire had welled in the elder sister’s eyes, and she kicked the feet of the Eternian out from under him. As he fell, she took the battle-ax from his hands and used it to slice a great gash in the side of the captain. She kicked his limp but still conscious form down the hill with her foot, disgusted. Caerlin practically threw the battle-ax away and ran back to her sister’s side.
“Is—is he dead?” Moria asked, finding breathing difficult.
Caerlin shook her head. “No, he’ll live.” Her sister began to cough as her squeezed lungs fought for breath. “And you’ll live, too.” She said, the tears slowly falling down her face and onto her sister’s.
Moria shook her head, smiling sadly at her sister. “No…” she said simply. “The R-red moon calls… and I must answer.”
“No,” Caerlin said, finding it hard to breath herself. “No, Moria. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.” She looked down into her sister’s eyes. “I love you.”
Moria lifted her hand to caress her sister’s face. “I know you do. Caerlin…” she said, her eyes beginning to cloud over. “L-let me…go.”
Her elder sister shook her head. “I can’t.” Moria moved her hand to the back of Caerlin’s head, pulling her sister closer weakly.
Their kiss was slow, intermingled with tears, and Moria pulled away first. “I love you,” she said softly, wiping her sister’s tears as fresh one’s took their place.
“Don’t leave me,” Caerlin whispered, holding her sister close.
“I won’t…” Moria said softly. “Wait for me, okay?” she said, smiling softly as her own tears fell.
Caerlin nodded softly, “Of course I will. I always will.”
Moria lay in her sister’s arms as she slowly fell away from the world. “My waking hope….my….sleeping dream…” she said softly, smiling sadly up at her sister.
Caerlin cradled her sister’s body in her arms long after the last breath had been drawn. She used her Majicks to free Moria’s body from the tree that pinned it.
“Well, well. Queen Caerlin,” came an obnoxious voice from behind her. “You know, when the new Sorceress told me that your sister was your only weakness, I really didn’t believe her. But I do now.”
The Dereskian was silent. She set her sister’s body aside reverently, and kissed her hands.
This clearly was not acceptable with Mindor. He had recovered his battle-ax from where it had been dropped, and now raised it. “Nothing to say, eh? A pity. I had hoped the legendary Dereskian Queen Caerlin would fight back, or at least say something. Ah well.” He brought the weapon down to strike the Dereskian in the back.
The Queen whirled, grabbing Mindor’s wrist and the battle-ax within it. She pulled and shook the ax from his hand, while also kicking him in the shins.
“Ah!” said Mindor. “Now there’s the famed Dereskian Queen Caerlin!” he struggled to get up, but found he could not move. He looked, panicked into his assailant’s eyes, and saw them pinwheel and turn black in color.
She brought the ax down upon him. Just before it struck, she looked him in the eyes and spoke. Her voice chilled his blood, and her words echoed in his ears even after his head had been removed from his body. “My name is Moria.”
***********************
For the next hundred and fifty years, the name of the Dereskian Queen became a curse to the Eternian people. She continuously entered the towns and cites, killing anyone that got in her path. She made several visits to Castle Grayskull, talking, but never anything more, to Teelina. So frequent were her visits that the Sorceress eventually stopped having people call her ‘Zoar’ altogether. It became too confusing to have two names to be called by.
As for the Dereskian Queen, she was no longer referred to as ‘Caerlin.’ When the Eternians spoke her name at all, (which was seldom, for they believed it to be a curse to call The Dereskian Queen by anything other than her title,) they spoke only of “Lady Moria.” Caerlin had died along with her sister.
After two hundred years or so, the attacks suddenly stopped for absolutely no reason. In time, the truth of the Dereskian Queen and the Great War became only history, and then legend, and then mere myth.
The tale of Lady Moria became nothing more than a story to frighten young children with.
Despite popular belief, the queen kept her promise to her sister, and she waited. She gave birth to the daughter of a faceless man, one who had no DNA and could therefore have a child that was a full-blooded Dereskian. She left the child with him, to be raised, while she was forced to continue on with her duties to her people
Within the ruins of the Dereskian lands, lands that were once green and flourishing had become so gray and sandy as to be renamed ‘The Sands of Time,’ the Dereskian Queen lived on, writing in the sacred books, which, after all, had bkeptkept in the secret chambers below the capital and not in Elënuial.
In time, she would finish, and emerge. Until then, she would simply remain the phantom ghost used to get unruly children into their beds.

Qui anar anné wend isil, kan celeb elen fern il kith, otë recam hindë seden emyn, rot mantë re athar. Súl, mez cáno; kemen, mez deen; mez seunda, alda. Tathar wëe il duin kai, we meyone ki’t athar.
Ki hach urë t’ il andúne.
Lidor li we nesurë derem
.Li mae ur kan li anonë.
Lidor li we nekhil rem,
Ne yuthë gui ki nänd.
Ki hauch urë t’il andúne.
Ki hauch urë t’il andúne.
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The Dereskian Queen