You need to read [The Beginning] to understand this part.
Casta giggled as she fell into bed with Shadow Weaver. The agent scattered kissed across her cheeks and along her jaw.
“I’ve waited so long for this.” the old witch breathed, “I missed you so much.” She teased Casta’s lip between her teeth, “missed your lips and your breath and your kisses.” Her fingers worked to remove her dress.
“I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come back.” Casta admitted, “you were delayed more than half a moon cycle.”
“Hordak gave me an assignment at a less than opportune moment.” Her claws ripped small fissures into the delicate fabric of the dress.
Shadow Weaver kissed her gently.
“He has me working on something very big… very important.” she continued. The dress was finally removed. A growl rumbled in her chest as she ran her hands down Casta’s body, pressing into her as they went. Rough from her Horde training, the agent’s palms scraped against Casta’s soft skin.
“The Horde works to eradicate softness. There’s not a shred or scrap of it anywhere.” She complained, “Sometimes I catch trainees in the lesser known parts of the Fright Zone. They fornicate like they’re trying to break each other.”
“Perhaps that’s the only way they know how to feel.” Casta murmured softly.
“How terrifying. As if their feelings need to be beaten out of them.”
Casta let the silence settle.
“Sometimes.” Shadow Weaver admitted, “I’m not alive. Nothing is vibrant like it used to be.”
“How can I help you?” Casta soothed her cheek.
Shadow Weaver played with a loose strand of Casta’s hair and smiled down at her, “Coming back here, to see Mystacor, to see you - that’s enough for now. There are nice things and compassion in this city.”
“But what about when you’re not here?”
“I have my methods. At least you don’t keep me in the basement.”
“How is dear old Norwyn?”
“He’s fine, I suppose. Can we please not talk about him?”
Shadow Weaver smirked, “Show me what we should do instead.”
Casta guided the agent’s hands down between her legs, “Here, darling - yes, yes, yes.”
Shadow Weaver chuckled as her hands worked to make Casta breathless. The low noise put a needy type of thunder in her abdomen.
“Talk to me.” she bit out.
“About what?” murmured against her thigh.
“There’s a project I have been working on - for my own curiosity. I’ve been investigating the stronghold buried under Mystacor.
“What?” Casta propped herself up on her elbows and pulled Shadow Weaver’s hand away.
“What stronghold?” She asked.
“It’s a safeguard for an ancient First Ones relic.”
“The Crystal of Arxia! How do you not know what this is?”
“Because such a thing doesn’t exist.”
Shadow Weaver rose her brows, “Such a thing doesn’t exist?”
“Well, not to my knowledge before this point.”
“Get dressed, we’re going to do something fun today.”
“Or we could get back to the fun thing we were already doing?”
Shadow Weaver stood, “Later.”
“I ought to throw you in the dungeons.” she grumbled, pulling her skirts on.
Casta shoved her crown on, “Just show me where this stupid crystal is.”
Shadow Weaver sucked her fingers clean, “Certainly.”
Shadow Weaver held Casta’s wrists in her own, chest pressed to Casta’s back, as she helped her learn the movements.
“You’re doing this on purpose.” Shadow Weaver’s scent prickled her nose.
“But you know it better, now.”
Casta only huffed back at the agent as she moved to stand beside her. Together, they lit up the hall with identical casting circles, one for each half of the gate. First Ones scriptures glowed a brilliant blue. Stone screeched against stone as the wall opened and a luminescent trail beckoned them inside.
“How did you find this?” her voice echoed through the tunnel.
“Years of study and boredom.”
Casta had to wonder how nobody else had found the gates or the stronghold. She gasped when flames engulfed the rest of the path. Shadow Weaver continued as if she didn’t see them.
“Wait.” Casta grabbed Shadow Weaver’s arm and pulled her back.
“A harmless illusion. Watch.” She walked into the fire. “I’m still alive, follow my voice.” She called from the other side.
She took a step closer to the flames. The heat crackled around her.
A hand appeared through the orange tongues.
Casta did as she was told and the hand lead her through the heat.
She looked back at the flaming wall as they continued.
The tunnel opened into the stronghold. Powerful magic pressed against Casta uncomfortably. Shadow Weaver inhaled deeply.
“Just like an old book.” she breathed.
The Crystal of Arxia stood as three pillars and a floating piece. They beckoned her with a great responsibility. The room carried an air of finality. She approached the pillars.
“To my understanding, it is a key - don’t touch it!”
Casta retracted her hand, “Why?”
“Because I don’t know what it does. It is powerful magic and it is calling us. Honestly what did they teach you in school?”
“So… what is the key for?”
“That’s what I don’t know yet. The answer isn’t in this room - I checked.”
“Do you think it could help us stop Hordak?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll look into it.”
They lay in Casta’s bed, decidedly too tired to do much else.
“The sun will rise shortly.” Casta lamented.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Casta pressed her head into Shadow Weaver’s shoulder, “I was so worried when you didn’t come back this time.”
“I know. It gets harder to come back, the farther in I go.”
“How long will you be gone this time?”
“Darling, I won’t be able to know that.”
“Hm… tell you what.” She got up and leaned out of the open window. She returned, swirling darkness between her hands. The shadows started to take a more defined shape until a raven perched proudly on her fingers. She nudged him onto Casta’s arm.
“Are you going to introduce yourself?”
“My name is Castaspella - ruler of Mystacor.”
“The sky says his name is Rowan.”
“Hello Rowan.” she pet his head with the backs of her fingers.
“As long as I am alive and loyal to Mystacor, Rowan will come to you when you call.”
“He must be a smart bird.”
“Well, I did create him.”
Casta giggled and kissed her lover, “Thank you.”
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