Art: "Dance" by ShadowReader29

I have stared into the face of evil for decades. Moons above, I myself was wicked at one point, though I now seek to assist the side of good. Even if I am too far gone to be good myself.

❂❂❂

My lord has inquired about babies due to the annoyance they pose in the nursery. You mentioned that when Adora came through the portal, her screaming aggravated your ears. You are not the only one – Carmen also has immense discomfort whenever Catra yowls in our quarters. (I do not know the science behind it, but perhaps you would.)

I shan't tell you where babies come from without direct orders – it is a topic considered inappropriate for a second-in-command to tell her head officer. But I shall tell you about their benefits, and their joys.

As Shadow Weaver began a new paragraph in her report, Carmen entered the room with a yawn. Without concern for proper etiquette, the felinetta threw off her uniform, only wearing her underwear and bra.

As Shadow Weaver shook her head, trying not to think about her servant's oddities, Carmen spoke. "I'm due to go to the priesthood. Time to get the twelfth mark."

As Carmen pulled on a flowing white tunic and black leggings, tying on her open-toe socks – felinettas usually didn't wear shoes – Shadow Weaver's gaze wandered to her servant's arms. On her left arm, five red scars flashed; six were on her right.

"I will never understand," Shadow Weaver muttered.

"My lady, you can't forbid me from goin' to worship," Carmen said with a pout.

"Did I say I was forbidding you?"

The felinetta's cheeks reddened. "No, my lady. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. You may go, but leave Catra here." Catra wasn't a Kryteyan yet. She couldn't be until she was nine years old, and Shadow Weaver refused to allow the child to become indoctrinated by the strange religion Carmen followed.

Her servant nodded. "A'ight. I'll be back later tonight. You sure you can handle yourself?"

Shadow Weaver nodded tiredly. "Now go," she said with a wave of her hand. She sighed, and Adora cooed softly in question.

"It's no matter, my dear," she said softly to the baby. "Carmen is simply...going to get another scar."

And Shadow Weaver was helpless to stop it.

✧✧✧

Carmen skipped out the doors of the main complex, then over to the C-Compound, where the skiffs were. Technically, soldiers weren't allowed to use the skiffs for personal trips, but Carmen had an exception from Shadow Weaver. As she did each month since she arrived at the Fright Zone, she boarded the skiff and programmed it to take her to the Old Clerbélia Priesthood.

The priesthood wasn't far from here, but Carmen needed to save her energy. Tonight, she would get a twelfth cut in her left arm – signifying her years of servitude since initiation at the age of nine – and she didn't want to gush blood all over the ground from running there.

Carmen arrived at the doors, smoothing her tunic and inhaling deeply. Then she stepped inside the priesthood. The room smelled strongly of gentian, its bitter tang always a reminder for those entering that they were under a terrible curse from God. Carmen waved at the other felinettas, despite it not being protocol, but they gave her no reply.

Trembling, Carmen bowed before Marh Jibril. Gritting her teeth, she chided herself; it wasn't the priest's fault he had the same name as her abuser, long ago.

Biting her lip, she remembered the failed coup against her lady. Jibril, she thought, grief and guilt in her chest. She tried to repress the anger, as it was truly directed at Raiya instead, even if she didn't fault God consciously. So many people died by her lady's hand that night – Shads didn't like to kill her own soldiers, but treason was treason.

After a long time, Marh Jibril spoke. "Carmen, servant of Lady Shadah Eevah. Rise."

Carmen did as he said, wiping tears quickly before he could see. "My priest."

Every adherent to Kryteya rose at once; Carmen tried to ignore the stares, though they felt like burnin' sun on her skin. They began to chant. "Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan! Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan!"

The noise became like a drone. A pit of instinctive dread dropped into Carmen's stomach – it was from Raiya, reminding her once again of her sins. Sins that she could never atone for.

"Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan! Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan!"

Marh Jibril stepped forward, pulling out a glass dagger and gripping her arm roughly. Carmen turned her gaze away, dreading what would come next.

"Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan! Yajib 'an tueani jamie alkayinat hataa tusbih naqiatan!"

The knife bit into her skin like a rabid dog. Marh Jibril pressed it harder, harder. Carmen cried out in pain as the chanting grew ever-louder. The stench of the herbs clouded her nostrils until all she knew was pain.

The knife touched the bone. Marh Jibril stopped cutting. "Laqad dahiat litusbih tahrana."

"Laqad dahiat litusbih tahrana," the crowd shouted.

"Laqad dahiat li'usbah tahrana," Carmen gasped. "I have suffered to become pure."

Marh Jibril wrapped Carmen's forearm tightly in gauze. The pain was unbearable, but it was her lot in life. She was made to suffer for what she did – all she could do was pray for mercy.

A mercy that would never come.

Slowly, Carmen stepped away and joined the women to the side, who were all bowed in prayer. The agony of the cut still burned, but at least she was pure. At least she had done twelve years of service to the Kryteya.

"Wuead wahid min 'alf shams,

Airhamna jamieana,

Li'anah lak aleata' wal'akhdh,

wa'iiradatik 'an nartafie 'aw nasqut."

The prayer gave Carmen a small bit of comfort. And she began to chant in Felali, drowning herself in empty words.

✧✧✧

Carmen entered the Fright Zone late that night, an antiseptic bandage wrapped tightly around her arm. She had cried the whole way home, the shock of the bone-deep cut having finally worn off. Walking into the A-Complex, she kept her injured arm bent at an angle to avoid stretching the wounded skin too much.

She deserved it, after all. Her entire existence was service, but nobody could be perfect at what they did. So they offered another punishment – a punishment that was supposed to be an honor – just in case people forgot that. While it was mighty kind of them to give reminders, Carmen lamented deep in her heart that it had to be so damn painful.

It'll heal, she reminded herself, walking toward Shads' room. It always does.

"Heya, Carm," a voice drawled from behind her. Carmen turned around, seeing Force Captain Tara standing in the hallway. The Silaxian ran a meaty hand over her buzz cut hair, wearing a one-sided smile.

Yet it disappeared as soon as she spotted Carmen's bandage. "The hell did you get that from?" she asked.

"Um..." Tara was one of the most anti-religious people Carmen had ever met. "Priesthood."

Tara took a huge bite of her ration bar. Around the food, she frowned. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Carmen said. "Would'ja please leave me alone?" she sighed. "I gotta head back to take care'f my lady. She ain't exactly in top shape."

"Oh, please. She's fine."

"I'll pass it on," Carmen said with a scowl as she kept walking, shoving her good hand in a pocket. Tara was known to be somewhat brutal, and her blood boiled at the fact that Beck was hanging out with her. It wasn't fair that the newbie immediately went for the person Carmen had the biggest rivalry with.

Tara chuckled. "Suit yourself. But Carmen?"

"Yeah?" Carmen said, pausing for a moment.

"I ain't a bad person," Tara said, leaning against the wall. "Maybe you should come and hang with Beck and me. We'll teach you what having real friends is like."

Carmen scowled in the hallway, clenching her fists. Like I dunno that already. Shads was a good friend. And she was a heck of a lot nicer than old Tara.

"Thanks," she said. "But I gotta go to Shads."

Tara didn't respond as she walked away.

✧✧✧

Carmen snuck into Shads' quarters that night, nursing her bandaged arm. Exhausted, she yawned and stretched, cracking her knuckles. "Why're you still up? It's almost midnight."

It was a stupid question, but Shads didn't seem to care. "I was waiting for you to return. I want to hear another story. The last one was so...gruesome." Her voice grew thicker as she pronounced the last word.

Carmen sat on the stool beside her lady's bed, fidgeting a bit. "The others ain't so violent, my lady. But I do have an interestin' one. One I think you'll like. It ain't exactly agreed on, but, um...it was s'posed to be a legend, 'specially in the offshoots and such –"

"That makes it even better," Shads said, closing the blank white eyes of her mask and laying back. "Tell it to me, Carmen."

Carmen smiled. "Well, y'know how I said Raiya's comin' back one day to destroy my faith?"

"I remember."

"There're legends we tell ourselves." Carmen leaned in. "Some say a hero will come to save us from Raiya's wrath. A person wieldin' great power an' able to appease a mad god. They call 'em...the Starwalker."

Shadow Weaver's voice carried an intrigued tone. "Starwalker? We...don't have stars anymore."

"I know. But in the legends, they say the stars'll come back."

"Absurd. We don't even know why they disappeared to begin with."

"Doesn't mean we won't find out."

"Just get on with the story," her lady grumbled. "How will the Starwalker do such things?"

Carmen frowned. "They're all vague. Some say they'll have a magic weapon. Others'll say the Starwalker don't need one – that their battle with Raiya will rely on power alone."

"Wait...battle?"

"Well, yeah, my lady," she said. Shouldn't this be obvious? "The Starwalker will fight Raiya. An' they'll lose. What idiot would pick a fight with God?"

"Someone who doesn't believe he's God to begin with."

The comment made Carmen's skin prickle. Frowning, she edged closer to her lady. "You got a magic weapon. Think it's you?"

Shads snorted. "Me? I don't think it's possible for your god to exist."

"Why not? Ain't it obvious? I mean, somethin' had to create everythin' here. It's just logical."

"Just because I agree with the notion that the world had a beginning," her lady said in a tired voice, "doesn't mean I must accept that a god who hates his own creation is real. Is evil not the lack of good? How can God do something that contradicts his very character? And he isn't absolutely just or loving – otherwise, you would not be condemned to hell simply for existing."

Carmen frowned. "I ain't smart enough to think 'bout all that. But my lady...if Raiya was real, would you worship him?"

Shads tilted her head. "What a strange question. Why must we be concerned with what could be? Why not with what is?"

Carmen's face burned. "Humor me," she dared to say, hoping it wouldn't piss off her mistress.

"My answer? It depends. Plenty have claimed to be God throughout the ages – moons, people even worship the Meyan queen." Shads shook her head confusedly. "If he was real, and if he could prove he is worthy of the title 'God', then yes. I will follow wherever the truth leads. I...have experience with things that are difficult to accept."

"Good answer," Carmen admitted – Shads was wise, if nothing else. "My lady...sleep well."

Shads nodded in her direction. "And you."

❂❂❂

Did you know...

- In my stories, I try to lean more on Shadow Weaver's scholarly side. I feel as though the show glosses over the fact that she was a teacher (and therefore a big nerd) in her younger days.

- I had a hard time drawing the 11.2 illustration because I worried it would seem either too gory or too sterile. Eventually I settled for the latter, since I didn't want to have to mark this book Mature.

Tell me what you think...

- What similarities do you see between Kryteyan scarring and real-world cults?

- Do you think Carmen or Shadow Weaver is correct? Why?