Disclaimer: This fanfic is not sponsored or licensed by Mattel or any of its subsidiaries. It is written for entertainment purposes only
Author's Note: This story is being posted in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the Masters of the Universe franchise. This takes place in the same continuity of the new Masters of the Universe DC comic. It takes place a few days before the events of that issue.
This is a one-shot story, simply done as a prelude to the new DC mini-series. It has no connection to any other of my fanfics and there won't be a continuation of this.
Adam woke up. Outside, the rain was pounding against the cabin. It was hardly sunrise. The dream lingered in his mind, a myriad of vivid sensations and images that were so beyond his quiet little day-to-day life. This one, this one was seemed just as strong as the others.
It took Adam a minute to realize what awoke him. Movement in the next room. His father was up.
Stepping out his door, Adam found the old man slumped up against the table, his body shaking. Adam hoped with all his might that this would be a good day.
"Adam . . . ?" The once proud, heavy voice of Fedor was anything but.
"Father, it's not even sunrise."
"I was cold . . ."
Adam grabbed his father. In his old days, he would have had to force him. Push him. But now . . . it was like his father was made of glass. Fragile, weak, lost . . .
Adam eased his father back into the bed. He pulled the blankets up to his father's chest. Despite the lack of strength in his body, Fedor's eyes were still strong. They would become lost, sometimes, on the bad days. But there was still strength there; like a part of his old, wise, tough self wanted to break out of the decaying shell that was his body.
"I had another dream last night, father."
"Eh?" This reaction gave Adam hope. His father actually seemed curious.
"Yes. I dreamt that I was standing in a field someplace far away from here. The sky was filled with stars. New stars, in different places than I'm used to. Three of these stood out so brightly, so much larger than all the others." Adam paused and looked for another reaction. His father shuffled some of his blankets around. "I then dreamed I was in a battle with some strange creatures. A woman was with me. She looked like she could have been my sister."
Fedor blinked. "Sister?"
"Yes. In my dream, she looked just like me. Like a twin sister."
"Sister. Sssister. Dreams," mumbled Adam's father. "I used to have such lovely dreams . . . I never dream anymore . . ."
Adam sighed. "Rest, father. Go back to sleep. Dawn will be here soon."
"Such dreams . . ."
His strong, proud eyes vanished beneath heavy eyelids. Adam sat there for a long moment until his father's breathing became hearty snores. Too awake and too distracted to go back to bed, Adam made a pot of coffee and prepared himself for the chores of the day.
He cleaned the floor, brushing the dust and dirt out the front door. He wiped down the windows. He made his bed. This was his life. Simple, tidy, normal. The rain petered off and slowly but surely, the new days sunshine started to break through the clouds. Adam checked on his father; still sleeping. It was time to get to work. A woodsman's job was never done.
Wet soil meant it would be easier to cut out the stumps. If the sun didn't dry out the branch pile, he might even be able to get some mulch made. Mrs. Grantin down the road was asking for some earlier in the season.
Adam raised his axe. For a moment, he felt like it was a sword. A mighty sword. A sword . . . of power.
For a moment, the world seemed to turn upside. His dream . . . his dream . . .
It was an axe that cracked against. Not a sword; an axe. An axe given to him by his father. An axe he sharpened just yesterday. It was a tool, not a weapon. Nothing but that.
Fedor was awake again around noon. Adam tended to him. Fedor's hand were shaking too much to handle the spoon, so Adam had to feed him again. "It's roast gooble, father. Your favorite."
"Favorite . . ." Fedor sighed. "You're using the good china?"
"Only the best, father," Adam assured him. His father asked that question a lot.
After lunch, Adam took a few moments to read one of their books. They didn't have many, but for some reason . . . he felt like he had never read any of them at all before. "But that doesn't make any sense. I know I've read them . . . but I don't remember them . . ."
The thought nagged at him, but he had more work to do. He returned to his work, axe in hand.
Towards the end of the day, Adam looked to the west. There, towering above the trees, was Snake Mountain. Never than during the reddening twilight did the fortress seem so ominous and malevolent. It frightened him.
The chores were done. Adam returned to the cabin. His father had gotten up once or twice, apparently, and left a small trail of destruction in his wake. Adam helped Fedor back to bed, gave him a little fruit and some of the medicine (that didn't help). A small goblet of wine eased the old man into sleep.
Adam locked the doors and windows. He placed his axe by his bed and was soon down himself.
In his dream, the axe was a Battle-Axe. His sword . . . his sword was amazing. And he wielded it well. He was strong. Mighty. Powerful. He fought alongside warriors and soldiers. Men and women with powers and abilities that were unheard of. They battled great, dark, evil forces that wished to conquer all of Eternia.
Looming above them was Snake Mountain. Behind them was a castle with a great skull upfront. A falcon soared, screeching, and would stop and stare at him with deep, examining eyes.
Adam felt desperation with every thrust. He was more than just a man, in this dream, he was . . . more like a He-Man . . .
Adam woke up, the dream feeling more like a memory. Again, he did his best to brush it off. But . . . outside his window, perched on small branch, was a falcon. It stared at him, eyes deep and examining. Adam wondered, for a moment, about the whole thing.
He brushed it off. The dawn had come and he had chores to do.
The dream, why, that's all it was. Just a dream.