(From Ashes) Chapter 2

Pride: From Ashes

Chapter 2

Maddening Calls

Sleep aboard the Falcon was brief and restless. Everyone could feel the clock ticking. The absence of Drules in their initial scouting was unsettling, but in the absence of any better intel, all they could do was stick to the original plan: find Voltron, somehow, and get out.

It wasn't actually a plan. Nothing that involved the word 'somehow' qualified as a plan. More like wishful thinking. But that was pretty much how an Explorer Team rolled anyway, and hardly even worth bringing up anymore. So they'd left Pidge and Hunk to guard the ship and started out to explore further. They still needed to find this supposed castle… or anything nearby that might give them some clue about their goal.

Today the fog had cleared, and the shabby bridge looked even less inspiring. "Well…" Keith looked at it and grimaced. "Let's hope there's more civilization where that came from."

"There's not," Daniel muttered. He and Sven hadn't gone too far beyond it before, but as far as they'd gone it had been a steaming pile of nothing.

Vince wasn't sorry to have had to go back early and miss all the nothing. To be fair, he probably wouldn't have been sorry to miss it if they'd found something, either. The other team had, though. "Didn't you say you found a house, Commander?"

"We did." Keith stepped cautiously onto the bridge, mindful of what looked like a few weak boards. "Abandoned."

"An abandoned house and a rickety bridge," their gunner snorted. "Peak signs of civilization."

"Saw a lizard," Romelle murmured half to herself, blushing at the memory; immediately Daniel looked more interested.

"What kind of lizard?"

As if Romelle had the slightest idea of that. Lance helpfully jumped in. "A lizardy lizard." As she giggled and nodded agreement with his assessment, he added, "Named it Lizzie, it was cute. You'd probably want to date it."

"That's not…" Glare. "All lizards are cute! But I prefer dating things that walk on two legs."

"Oh, sure. But slithering is okay."

"Bokar walked on two legs! And just because I thought his other form was hot doesn't mean I would have dated him."

"Bokar was evil. If you'd tried to date him he'd have probably made you dinner!"

Though she had no idea who Bokar was, and only minimal idea about dating, Romelle didn't understand the issue with that at all. And she was definitely getting more comfortable with the team's banter, since she barely even hesitated before asking about it. "Isn't having dinner part of a good date?"

"…Yeah that came out wrong," Lance agreed, making a face. "I meant Daniel would be the dinner."

"Hence the 'I wouldn't date him' statement." Daniel didn't understand the issue here either, except that he supposed Lance had to have some comeback handy for the fact that he flew like an old man. "Just because someone's evil doesn't mean they're suddenly unattractive."

Opening his mouth to argue, Lance was silenced by two things; the first was the lack of an immediate argument. Given a little more time he'd probably have found one, but then Keith was off the other end of the bridge and the time for banter was over.

"This as far as you got?"

"Yes." Sven stopped next to him. He'd been ignoring the team's customary nonsense, though it was enjoyable to have the background noise. It felt almost normal, to be in unknown territory with the others bickering about… whatever. "We turned right about there." Pointing a little way up the river, he indicated a hulk of metal—clearly visible today rather than waiting to be tripped over in the fog—that had once been a Drule fighter's vertical stabilizer.

"Alright." The open meadow before them was very… open. But from overhead it had seemed largely enclosed by other terrain. Following the edges felt like the safest plan, and likely the more productive as well. Robot lions weren't just going to be sitting around in an empty field. If they could be certain of anything at all, it was that. "You take Vince and Romelle and head south. We'll head north. Meet back at the bridge in a few hours."

"Yes sir." Sven nodded and looked to his group. "Let's head out." He was not terribly distressed to not be going with Daniel this time; Vince, at least, seemed equally happy to be placed on Team Viking again.

As they departed, Keith looked between Lance and Daniel and sighed inwardly. They'd better be done talking about attractive reptiles for awhile… "Alright. Let's move."

"Keep up, kid," Lance instructed with a smirk as they got moving.

Daniel had been waiting on the bridge; now he jogged to catch up and smirked right back. "Don't worry, just giving you a head start. I know speed isn't exactly your thing."

Snort. "Right, because speed and precision are my thing."

"Sure, whatever you say." He smiled brightly. He gets to rag on my admittedly bad taste in men, I get to rag on his so-called skills! It seemed fair enough to him. Then Lance reached over and ruffled his hair with a grin; his own smile turned into a sulk. "I hate you."

At least they seemed to be in a good mood. Keith shook his head and looked to the sky, which was clear except for thick clouds gathering over the distant mountains. "That's no way to talk to your brother, Daniel." Lance snorted.

"Would you rather me talk to you like that?" the gunner offered immediately. He wasn't bothered by the brother thing. It felt… right? Maybe the word wasn't right, exactly. But it felt fine. Yeah, that was it. "'Cause I've been so good with you. Only saying the smartass comments that really needed to be said. And you make it so easy…"

Lance was still more than a little thrown by the whole brother matter, himself. But it wasn't wrong, either. He looked around as Daniel ranted, still amazed by how much this place looked and felt like home. The meadow stretched off to their right, with the mountains up ahead looking rocky and dark but not ominous. And he felt an odd warmth that didn't seem to be the sunlight, almost curling around him somehow, familiar in a way he couldn't immediately place…

"Either of you warm?" he asked, a little absently. Maybe it was coming off the river somehow.

Keith blinked. "Other than the obvious, no." Even that wasn't so bad, really; he'd have called the direct sunlight comfortable. "Why?"

"Just… feeling a bit warm here."

"Not me." Daniel shrugged. "But I grew up in a desert, I don't really get warm unless it's really hot."

"You sound like Flynn…" It came out before he thought about it, before he could stop it, and he froze dead in his tracks. And as if in response, the feeling of warmth around him seemed to intensify. What? That had to just be his imagination, some grief reaction…

A soft growl echoed somewhere around him, rippling through his chest, and his eyes widened. It was the same sound as he'd heard in the foothills. And it was definitely not his imagination.

Nobody else seemed to have noticed, but Daniel did try very quickly to change the subject. "So what do you think, Lance? Should I stop filtering myself for our dear commander?"

"Huh?" Keith had been trying to shake his own wince off to wonder about the warmth, until Daniel's 'help' registered.

Blinking a few times, looking between them, Lance opened his mouth to ask if they'd heard the growl. Then he stopped. They hadn't heard it, he knew they hadn't, somehow… instead he opted to take Daniel's out. A distraction that didn't just raise more questions would be more than welcome right now. "I say go for it, see if the boss can handle full-on Daniel."

"Hey! I don't get handled."

"Tell me about it."

"I get observed. And enjoyed. And occasionally cursed at." Occasionally. Heh. "But no handling."

Keith opened his mouth, closed it, and continued walking without another word. Nothing he could say here would get him in any less trouble.

Saying nothing didn't really help him either; Lance laughed. "Bossman you can't outwalk him, he is right, he's fast."

"Aw. That's like, the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." Wiping away a single fake tear, Daniel picked up the pace and caught up with Keith again. "But he's right, and it doesn't help that you've been doing a whole lot of sitting in that command chair…"

The commander gave him a look, which was answered with another big smile, and briefly considered challenging the kid to a race. This really wasn't the time or place, so he just arched an eyebrow and kept walking.

Another growl drew Lance's attention, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck standing up again. All of his instincts were screaming. Screaming what? What the hell did it mean? Except for the distinct possibility that he was losing it, anyway.

He'd fallen behind, almost in his own personal fog this time, and Keith looked back when he didn't continue the snark. "Lance?"

"I'm here…" He shook his head, looking up and down the riverbank. The bridge was far out of sight by now. "Just, this whole lot of nothing is creepy." And I'm hearing things. The nothing might have been less creepy if the nothing hadn't been making noises only he could hear.

Daniel eyed him. "You okay?"

"Always, kid."

Though he'd given his cockiest smile, the kid was not completely certain he believed it. But he wasn't nearly as confident in his own lie detector abilities as Lance always seemed to be, so he just narrowed his eyes and turned away. They'd see how long that bravado lasted.

"You would think we'd hear more wildlife," Keith agreed.

"Or see it." Lance was hearing it.

"Yeah, I wanna see lizards." If anything could make all this weirdness a little less objectionable, it was lizards.

For awhile they quieted down, finding more wreckage but little else to speak of. It was clear that the debris had been scavenged at some point, critical components and even armor sheets and struts pried away, leaving only the damaged partial frameworks to rust in the wilderness. Luckily, they hadn't found any dead bodies… though Keith had dared hope they might find a living one or two. Even if the locals couldn't help them find Voltron, being able to sneak a few refugees away from the Drules would feel like something worthwhile.

Though where were the Drules?

A flicker of motion caught his eye and he snapped his head up, but it wasn't an approaching ship. Just a distant flash over the mountains. The clouds were still gathering there, dark and ominous. "Looks like a storm coming."

"What?" Daniel looked up, following his gaze. "It's blue skies. Pretty blue skies."

"I just see Beau Terre blue," Lance agreed, frowning slightly.

"What's Beau Terre?"

He flinched slightly at the question and looked at Daniel, who of course had no idea what he'd just asked. "Oh, uh…" What he got for letting it slip, he supposed. "It's where I'm from, the planet I grew up on. Sky here is the same blue." He'd done at least a relatively decent job of keeping his tone casual.

"Oh. Cool." Daniel was pretty sure Utah blue wasn't a thing.

"Look. Thunderheads." Their commander pointed to the mountains, as another flicker of lightning danced in the dark clouds. Still distant, but…

"…I've got nothing, boss, and my eyes are sharp."

"You losing your mind?" Daniel felt like he'd asked something very similar, very recently. He didn't think he liked it.

Looking between them, then back to the mountains, Keith hesitated a moment. Lightning and warmth. "Lance, you don't think…"

Their pilot was trying hard not to think, truthfully. "Think what?"

"…Nothing. We'd better keep moving."

"And do what, find more nothing?"

It did pretty much amount to that. But Keith wanted to reach the mountains now, if only to see the stormclouds and confirm that he wasn't crazy. Or, he supposed, to not see any stormclouds and find out that he was crazy. It would be good to know, in theory.

"Speaking of nothing, anyone starting to get really freaked out that there's no Drules?" As Daniel asked it they picked through a scattering of scorched bolts and wiring. The signs of the battle for this planet were everywhere, but the combatants were nowhere to be found.

"Does seem weird, can't say I want to see them, though…"

"It's a big planet." Really? Keith made a face. That observation sounded lame even to himself.

"Yeah, but aren't we allegedly near the castle?"

"I feel like we're in that moment in every horror movie where the one dumb chick hears the strange noise coming from her closet, but when she opens it there's nothing there." Daniel snorted. "Then she dies."

Lance eyed him, more unsettled than he cared to admit by the analogy. It wasn't exactly wrong. And then, as if he weren't freaked enough, he heard the growl again. Not now!

To his shock, it faded away. And then he got an even bigger shock.

"I've never watched a horror movie…"

"WHAT." He and Daniel both whipped around to look at Keith, exchanging looks of disbelief that rapidly became resignation. Of course he'd never—

"Unless you count the Wizard of Oz? Dad loved that movie."

"That is not a horror movie!"

"Though it does have some outright creepy parts… classic or remake?"

"Classic."

"Okay, you get partial credit." Lance made a mental note to tell Hunk the boss had never seen a horror movie. Someday they would fix that. Hopefully.

Daniel wasn't convinced that deserved partial credit, but then, there was some creep factor to it. "The lion man always wigged me out."

"…Really?"

"He wasn't so bad. It was those damn flying monkeys, for me."

"They didn't bother me. Lion guy was just so…" The kid shuddered. "Furry."

Lance snickered. "Well, good thing the lions we're looking for are metal."

"Lions don't usually bother me. Just that one."

"So snake men great, furry fake lion men nope?"

"Oh my God, when are you going to let that go?"

Smirk. "Never."

Keith had found his eyes on the mountains again, watching for more lightning. The flickers were still faint. He felt a question coming up and a pang from it, because he knew Cam would've wanted to be here to hear it… all the more reason to ask. "So what caused you to hate birds?" And not flying monkeys? That priority seemed skewed.

Daniel stopped for a moment, then glared between his commander who was seeing lightning that wasn't there, and his definitely-not-a-mentor who was feeling warmth that wasn't there. Know what, fine. He was clearly the only sane person in this group, and if his tale of woe made them feel a little better about going nuts, whatever. "Neither of you are allowed to laugh."

"Alright." Lance didn't say anything, but nodded; the kid was actually going to answer? That was new.

"I was four," Daniel explained. "My mom's funeral had just ended, I was looking adorable in my miniature suit, and I'd just stolen all the dipping bread the adults had the nerve to call finger food in protest of said adorable suit."

The mental image of four year old Daniel at a funeral in a tiny suit made Lance want to punch someone on his behalf, give him appropriate four year old clothing, and ask for pictures all at once. "This goes nowhere good."

Wasn't that the truth. "There was a little park area with a giant pond… I mean okay, it wasn't actually all that big but to four year old me it was giant. I thought the ducks that lived in the pond would like the stupid bread, so I started throwing it to them."

"Ducks?" Keith echoed, and grimaced. He could guess where this was going.

"Not just ducks." Daniel's voice was getting steadily more dramatic. "This whole crowd of birds started gathering, and they all wanted bread, and my chubby little four year old hands couldn't throw the bread fast enough…"

"This goes nowhere good," Lance repeated under his breath.

"They all surrounded me," he was gesturing wildly now as they walked, "and I chucked the last of the bread and ran for it, but they still wanted more! So they chased me down and swarmed me and pecked me with their horrible death beaks and…" He shuddered. "…And well, apparently nobody else liked the bread, they hadn't even noticed that I'd stolen it, so it took awhile for them to notice that I was gone and needed to be rescued."

"…Damn." Keith was biting down the impulse to at least chuckle. It wasn't funny, but Daniel dramatically howling about horrible death beaks was kind of funny. "I'm sorry."

Lance would've been laughing had it been nearly anyone else, nearly any other situation, but… nobody was watching a four year old kid at his own mother's funeral? "Seriously? Fuck them." He grabbed the kid in a side hug without even breaking his stride. "You've got me now."

Daniel blinked, then side-hugged him back and grinned. He could deal with this. "In conclusion! Birds are pure evil, and bread is not good finger food."

Smirk. "I'm proud you haven't let that incident ruin your love of toast."

"Because toast is a better, less boring version of bread, and using bread as anything other than toast is just shameful." Suddenly he didn't want to be walking around some creepy horror movie planet anymore. He wanted to go back to the ship and have toast.

They were moving into the shadow of the mountains, and Lance was still seething over Daniel's story. He really wanted to punch someone on the kid's behalf. It had very little to do with birds. Why the hell was no one watching him? It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, it wasn't…

The growl washed over him again, warmth wrapping around him, and he could swear he felt a sense of agreement buried in it. Which was just… I really am losing it.

As Lance grumbled to himself and Daniel thought about toast, Keith kept finding his eyes drawn to the mountains. It didn't really feel as though the lightning was getting any more frequent. He thought about asking if the others could see it yet, at least the clouds, but…

A long peal of thunder echoed down from the mountains. No. It wasn't thunder, he realized after a moment. A soft growl, almost a purr, that sent static racing through his veins. That's… he looked to the mountains again, one hand going to his gun, but he didn't draw the weapon. It didn't feel like a threat. It just felt…

"Boss, I think I see your storm starting to come in." A few clouds were beginning to drift in, darkening the sapphire sky. "We're not gonna find anything if it starts dumping on us. Should we start heading back?"

"Yeah, I've seen no lizards. This is a bust."

Keith was silent for a moment, listening as the purr faded away, replaced by what definitely was a distant thunderclap. "Yeah…" Without comms or provisions, they didn't want to get caught in a storm in unfamiliar terrain. But suddenly, he didn't want to go back.

Lance frowned, noting his wary stance. "You alright?"

"I'm fine. Just… thought I heard something." Lance had mentioned a growl in the foothills, hadn't he? "Maybe that same animal you heard yesterday?"

"Yeah…" The urge to say he'd been hearing it today too came and went. He hadn't heard anything when Keith froze up.

Looking between them, Daniel was reminded yet again of how many times he'd had to ask people if they were going crazy lately. Animals, huh? "Sven thought he heard growling," he said casually.

Both of them spun to stare at him. "What?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, he did. Are you?" He'd asked it because it was the correct question; he wasn't wholly certain he wanted the answer. This is gonna end with me feeling bad for calling him crazy, isn't it?

Keith and Lance were staring at each other, their attempts to play things off unceremoniously shattered. "I could swear I heard…"

"Yeah, I have been…"

"Just now…" The commander exhaled slowly and looked back towards the mountains. "It was quiet, but I heard it."

Lance's eyes were drawn off to the west. The storms seemed to mostly be centered over the part of the mountains that the river had cut away; past that, the range ran for a good distance. He was pretty sure the volcano he'd seen as they landed was out that way, and as he looked at the peaks he thought he felt a flicker of warmth again. A thought drifted through his mind as he tried to focus.

Are you real?

"Yes, I am."

"WHAT?!"

Keith whipped around, and this time he did draw his weapon. Daniel had jumped a few steps back. "Lance?"

"Shhhhh." He held up his hand for silence, straining to hear. "I heard… I thought…" Hello? "I'm going nuts."

The growl returned. It was answering him. It was laughing at him, he thought. "In time…" He couldn't quite put his finger on the voice, gruff and ephemeral, barely there but impossible to pretend it wasn't there…

"I mean if you're all hearing growling, maybe there's growling?" Daniel suggested. Though he wasn't hearing any weird growling, and now he was pretty sure he wanted to. Not on its own merits, but he was feeling a little left out.

"It's a voice," Lance answered, shaking his head.

"…Oh."

"…What?"

"It…" He shook his head in frustration. "Growl-talked? Talk-growled? Listen, I heard words, I don't need to fucking lose my mind here!" He clenched his fists and felt the warmth and that was it, he knew. "The metal."

"You're hearing voices…" Because it was Lance, and only because it was Lance, Daniel was trying very hard not to sound too worried or judgmental. The metal… "Is this more weird Voltron magic crap?"

"It's got to be more fucking weird Voltron crap." Lance stared at the mountains. "My head hurts."

"We…" Another flash of lightning from the mountains caught Keith's eye, and he shivered. Just a little. "We should get back. We might be closer than we think, but… I don't think we have any idea what we're close to anymore."

"Yeah, let's go. Ask Sven some questions." Sven hadn't reacted to the metal. If he was hearing things too…

Exchanging nods, the three of them turned and started back towards the Falcon.

*****

"Royal cub, awaken! I sensed it…"

Though the voice shot through her like a thunderclap, Allura struggled to make sense of the words at first. She'd been sleeping, and not for terribly long; the room was only dimly lit by the rising sun. Stumbling as she made her way from her bed, she found herself clumsily sinking to her knees within steps.

Still the voice continued, Black Lion's rumble seeming terribly faint. Speaking from such a distance took enormous effort. "I cannot state for sure when your paths will cross. But now you must wake, royal cub. Be ready. For it would seem that the vision you have dreamt is real."

Allura’s eyes widened as the words started to sink in. "My dream…"

"They are coming."

Her mind drifted to the humanoid form within the cloud pillar, the electricity rippling about his shape, and within his eyes… "…coming… oh! I must…"

"Yes, you must prepare. The ones we require are among a group. Use all your senses and strength to seek them out. Nudge them towards us, but they must in the end find us on their own. It is the only way to be sure. Now go… awaken yourself, that we may awaken."

Allura blinked for a moment. While she did feel the Lion of Storms slowly mellow back towards sleep, she could also feel his new alertness. Sharp and urgent. They're coming. With that thought, she pulled herself carefully back to her feet and made her way out to where their food rations were stashed.

Despite all her training, the proper protocols of preparing herself for company immediately flew out the windows. There were priorities. A princess receiving guests might be best-served by the formal clothing hidden underground; a refugee leader in search of an alert mind needed vehka leaves, and fast. The way she stumbled to her stash was proof enough of their importance. With the rest of the castle cleared of all provisions, the three who remained kept their supplies close. What use were the castle kitchens under these conditions?

Larmina was on watch again, and alerted by the sounds of clanking cans. Thinking scavengers had found their way to their food supply, she rushed in with her staff in hand. Instead of critters—or worse, Drules—she found her aunt trying to read labels in the darkened room.

"Umm… Aunt Allura?"

"No, not the vehka leaves either. Where did we put them?"

Oh. Chuckling, she moved into the room and lit a flarestone. "Maybe some light might help?"

Allura groaned and flinched away as the light crossed her eyes. "Perhaps…" She yawned and blinked away the afterimages. Of course light would help; she really had been flustered. "Thank you. Ah, yes… here they are." A small sigh of relief escaped as she picked up the can she was looking for.

"What's got you so eager to start today?" Larmina asked, reorganizing the supplies while Allura started to heat some water. Vehka leaves could simply be chewed for a surge of alertness, but they were utterly disgusting like that.

Perhaps that alertness would have done Allura well, though. In her mix of excitement and exhaustion, the words slipped out before she could really think about it.

"The Lions will be waking soon."

Finishing with the supply cache, Larmina gave Allura a confused look. What now? Is she sleep talking? "Huh?"

"Black Lion woke me," she explained, smiling through her eyes. "He says what they need to awaken is approaching."

Black Lion… Larmina bit her tongue. Auntie must have had one heck of a dream. "You know, auntie… aren't the lions just a story told by the priests to keep troublemaking kids in line?"

"No. He is real," Allura replied as she arranged several vehka leaves in a bowl and poured the boiling water over them. Larmina gave her a skeptical look that she barely noticed. "They are all very real. I can’t wait for them to finally be awake…"

Awake? Larmina sat there watching as Allura frothed the leaves and water, then strained the mixture through a filter. It was her aunt who was definitely only half awake right now, yet her suddenly speaking so openly about the lions struck something deep within her.

Is this it? That something King Alfor was working on, the thing she's kept hidden from everyone?

It was hard to tell if her Aunt had fully gone mad, or if she and the High King had been so all along. The stories of the guardian beasts being true seemed crazy, but here was Allura, suddenly so happy about something that couldn’t be real. Even if the tales were true, then the lions were dead, not asleep.

Weren't they?

She was about to try to form that question when Allura finished preparing the vehka brew and took a long swallow. Perhaps too much so; the jolt of alertness pushed her briefly too far the other direction, as strong vehka brews were known to do. "Have to prepare, find something proper, work out the details… ah! Should have asked Black for details!" she yelped, losing a few drops of her drink as she jumped up and dashed back to her room. Larmina shook her head and looked after her, muttering a prayer to whatever gods—or perhaps lions—might be listening that her aunt was not going insane.

Then, with a small frown, she followed.

*****

Being stuck on the Falcon was grating. Pidge had made an attempt to keep himself occupied somewhat productively once the others left. The problem was, without decent proximity scanning, there was nothing useful to do without leaving the ship.

Being stuck on the Falcon with Hunk was doubly grating. He kept trying to be friendly. And since there wasn't a damn thing to do on this ship, they were both sitting in the engine bay pretending to be useful.

He was running through some knife katas; he'd been banned from doing them in the ship's tiny excuse for a gym after cutting one of the mats with a too-enthusiastic flip. The bay wasn't optimal, but there was plenty of space. And it was unsettling his unwanted companion, which was a bonus…

"Yo, quit with the knife-y stuff and talk to me?"

…Mijtairra. Pidge wanted to do very little less than talk to him, but knew saying so would get him nowhere. "Why?" As he snapped it he thought he heard something—a faint ripple in the back of his mind, a hint of a voice. It hit his carefully-tuned psychic barriers, the survival mechanism of a varetya surrounded by telepaths he couldn't fully tune out, and was gone almost before he even registered it. But the sensation reflexively irked him, as if his temper needed to be any worse. "I don't have anything I want to talk about."

Hunk sighed. "Yeah, I know you don't. But something's buggin' you, yeah?"

"Yeah." He scowled and put the knife away. "I should be out there. They need competent scouts, not civilians and loudmouths."

"Ninja, you got all crispy when you went out last. They'll be fine. Chill. Pun totally intended."

…Crispy? "Are you supposed to be helping? Because you're not."

Snort. "Yeah, when do I ever, I know."

Pidge's head snapped up. "Komora…?"

Oh. Crap. That hadn't been what he'd meant to let slip. "I mean, uh… nothin', don't mind it." He stepped away, suddenly fascinated by the engine panels. Not that the engines were doing anything, though as he stepped closer he thought he heard them growling. Why would they be growling on idle? Another flash of frustration. He didn't feel like he belonged here any more than Pidge did, really—the only difference was that he wouldn't have any more of a role out there. He was still so out of his depth, and it didn't seem likely to get better any time soon.

"Have faith…"

"…Huh?" Reflexively he looked back at Pidge, who was still scowling. It was a confused scowl now, though. "Say what?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You…" Hunk stopped the argument before it could start. Pidge had most certainly not said anything. The words had been deep, a gravelly rumble almost more felt than heard. None of those qualities applied to the resident Baltan's light voice.

Had he heard it at all?

What the hell kind of question was that? But as he wondered it, the growl of the engines shifted. An oscillating rhythm that vaguely reminded him of harsh laughter.

That's… not the engines.

He heard the chuckling growl again, and turned back to Pidge, fully aware that he would regret what he was about to ask. "Uh, are the engines soundin' kinda loud to you?"

"…No." Welcoming any excuse to do his job, Pidge looked towards the status panel. "Want me to check down the shafts for incursions? I only hear the usual idle cycle." But then, he'd gotten accustomed to Flynn being able to hear engine issues the rest of them couldn't. Hunk was certainly not so adept, but he was willing to entertain the idea that he wasn't always right himself, either.

Something else tugged at his mind, and he shoved it away before it could form a voice. He did not want to hear it. He'd never wanted to hear it.

Eyeing him carefully, the flicker of irritation that hadn't seemed connected with anything he'd actually said, Hunk nodded. "Yeah, go ahead. Check 'em out. Maybe uh, loosen and tighten up a few screws if ya want? Just to have somethin' to do?"

"Yessir."

…It didn't seem like the time to object to this sir nonsense again. So he watched the ninja go, and almost immediately heard the harsh chuckling growl.

"…You knock that off," he muttered sullenly, unsure which of them he was speaking to. Or, for that matter, why the hell he was taking it so in stride that he was hearing voices.

You're not takin' it in stride, you're just refusing to think too hard. Which was his usual preference anyway, but it had never seemed like quite such a good idea as it seemed right this instant. But really… it was kind of impossible not to think, especially once Pidge's footsteps faded and left him in silence.

Lance had heard that growl up in the foothills. Wildlife, he'd thought. But there was damn sure no life aboard the Falcon wilder than him and the ninja, never mind its ability to speak. So what? Was he just going crazy?

"Ain't about to buy that I'm crackin' up now. Woulda happened way before this." He wasn't really sure who he was talking to. "Kinda did happen way before this, so what's new anyway, right?"

The growl rumbled down his spine again. "What are you hiding?"

Hunk froze. "Who the hell are you?"

All it got him was a fading chuckle, like a faraway earthquake. "In time… the earth… is patient…"

And it was gone.

*****

Black Lion, as ever, sat hunched in his den, silent as the storm began to gather outside. But as Allura stepped from the tunnel she could feel something different. There was an energy around the great lion, a crackle of static that pricked her skin. It would've jolted her to full wakefulness even if the vehka brew had not done its job. Fortunately, it had, and she'd regained her equilibrium from the wild swings of her early waking moments.

"Oh Lion of Storms…"

Golden light flickered in the lion's eyes. "Royal cub. You come seeking more information." His voice felt stronger as well, more alert, though exhaustion was still heavy within it. "But I have little to give."

"You said they are coming…" Clasping her hands together in agitation, remembering her dream, Allura fought to remain still. She wanted to run about the den, to work off nervous energy… at least long-forgotten royal functions had trained her to suppress those urges. "But who are they? What brought them here, and how? How am I to receive them—are they Polluxian?" Her earlier theory sprang to mind again.

She heard his low growl, a different frustration than usual. "I know not, royal cub. When you find them, we may know more."

A thought occurred to her then. Her father had been searching through so many ancient tales and fragments, without really knowing what it was he was looking for. Perhaps the lions were in the same position: knowing whatever had arrived was of significance, but not precisely how to put it together yet. "We will find them," she promised, eyes set with determination. "I'll ask Coran to lead the search personally, so I can keep a closer eye on things."

"Yes. A wise path. But perhaps first you should attend to your wild cub, who seems most distressed."

Blinking, Allura started to ask what he meant, then instinct caused her to turn around instead. A flash of fiery orange in the entrance didn't duck away fast enough.

"Larmina!" Her eyes widened in shocked horror, and she looked from her niece to the lion and back. "How did you…?"

"I'm way more stealthy than you think," she muttered, much less smug than might be expected. "Has this… what is that? Has it been here all this time?"

She didn't need to ask, really. The dark metal, the red wings shining on its back… she knew. Black Lion. But the stories hadn't said a damn thing about the lions being machines… had they? More to the point, it was huge and powerful-looking, though a bit dusty. If it had just been sitting here while the Drules attacked…

"He has," Allura confirmed softly, "for longer than we know. And he isn't the only one. My father was trying to find a way to wake them, and I've been continuing his work."

"By yourself."

It felt like a very long time that they stared at each other, and the princess felt her guts clenching. "I… yes. Myself and Coran. He helped my father collect old tales, old clues." It didn't take any spiritual senses to tell just how Larmina felt about that. "This has been the secret of the Crown for centuries. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't."

"Sure. I understand." Her niece did not sound understanding. "No problem. Want me to go set up some more scout patrols? You can stay here and talk at your lion machine some more."

Sigh. "Larmina—"

"—It's fine, Auntie."

What Allura didn't know, couldn't know, was what was really running through Larmina's mind. King Alfor's charge, forever ago, a mystery meant just for her. The mysterious growls in the forest, and even by the mountains… it wasn't just that she'd been left out. It was the sudden, screaming certainty that she had been meant to be part of this somehow.

But nobody had told her anything but cryptic riddles and promises. And now, she supposed, she didn't matter after all.

"…Will you come with me to the shelters?" Allura asked finally. "We will need more scouts, and I do want to send Coran personally. Which means I'll need your help here more than ever."

Larmina wasn't mollified. Not a bit. But it was her very annoyance that had her intent on proving her worth now… leaving her out had been a mistake. They'd see. "Sure."

Leaving the den in awkward silence, Allura watched her and sighed again. It would be okay. When the lions flew again… she would understand.

*****

Following the river south eventually led to the eastern shore of the lake. It was quiet and empty, of course, except for the periodic debris. Sven was enjoying the silence, though the fact that it was clear and bright and they still hadn't seen a single Drule was starting to get more than unnerving. It felt like something beyond luck by now, like there had to be information they were lacking.

Speaking of information, he still really wanted a map. But he'd kind of given up on that.

"This place sure is quiet," Vince whispered. He didn't want to see any Drules; he supposed he wouldn't have minded seeing a lizard. "Nowhere on Earth is this quiet."

"There are a few places I've hiked to in Norway that are this quiet," Sven countered. "And with about the same looming sense of danger, though in that case it was from wildlife and not from a conquering alien race…"

"Well, there are lizards here, sir."

The navigator chuckled softly. "I heard."

"It was a rather cute little lizard," Romelle admitted. "Even if it frightened me at first."

Lizards being cute didn't sound entirely unlikely to Vince, but it wouldn't have been his first reaction either. "I prefer mice, really. Furry things."

Having never associated either lizards or mice with cute, Sven just arched an eyebrow at the two of them and carried on. No accounting for taste, or so he'd heard.

"I suppose everyone has their preferred animals," Romelle mused. Her mind was on Bandor, the calcatrix Lotor had given him. I hope Bandor is alright… I hope everyone is alright. "And pets."

Vince smirked. "Yeah, and if Daniel sees a lizard he'll probably try to catch it and keep it."

"Probably." Sven chuckled, and his mind drifted to Jace. "Cats are cute."

"My moms have three cats. They're cool." They were also why any hopes Vince might ever have had for pet mice had been a bit of a pipe dream, but it wasn't their fault. And they were demanding and cuddly and occasionally liked to have arguments with him that he didn't understand. So really, kind of like Pidge, but cuter.

His moms also liked hiking—one more than the other, both more than him. Maybe they'd have enjoyed this trek more than he was, if it weren't for the danger lurking… wherever it was actually lurking.

"This must have been quite the battle," Romelle murmured as they passed a mangled metal frame. Then quieter, in Polluxian, "but they still couldn't save themselves…"

Part of Vince wanted to know what she'd said; part of him really didn't. It would be rude to ask, anyway. "I hope some of them survived."

"I'm sure some did." Sven was not actually the least bit sure of anything, but he was hopeful. Very hopeful…

A low growl whispered around him, seeming to rise off the lake, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh for the love of…"

"Sir?"

"What is it?"

Well, if he'd had any hope that this might be different than yesterday, those responses erased it. Sighing heavily, he looked back at them. "None of you hear that?" If he hadn't known better—he did not know better—he'd have said the growl that followed almost sounded amused.

Both his companions shook their heads. "Uh, no." The only sound was the faint lapping of the lake water, and for a few moments a whistling breeze over the meadow. "What do you hear?"

"More growling." It was irritating and yet the sound had almost been soothing, which was somehow even more irritating. "I'm losing my mind." It was the only obvious explanation.

Remembering the day before, Vince gave him a look of mixed worry and sympathy. But it was Romelle who offered something close to reassurance… or something even more worrisome.

"Lance said he heard some kind of animal yesterday, scouting the foothills. But no one else did. And we never saw anything but the lizard… I don't think it was the one growling, it was rather quiet."

Oh, so it wasn't just Sven. Vince looked between them and nodded, surprised by how little it freaked him out. Of course people were hearing things. This was his life. Unless it really was a growling lizard, a thought that forced him to suppress a small giggle but didn't feel much like a real possibility.

It seemed unlikely to Sven too, and he brightened. Just a little. "Then maybe I'm not losing my mind." Hopefully.

"You are not."

Whatever reassurance he'd felt evaporated. "…Either of you just speak?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. It hadn't sounded like either of them. A cool, elegant voice that rippled through him like a wave…

"No…"

"Um, no." Romelle looked very concerned now. "Are you feeling well? It is getting a bit warm, do you need water?"

Water? Something about the thought of water felt significant, perhaps even correct, but he couldn't say what. He didn't feel like he needed water. "No, it's not the heat. That's it. I'm legitimately going crazy."

"You are not," the voice said again, and this time the growl alongside it was unmistakably amused.

"That isn't reassuring!"

"Uh…" Vince stared at their navigator, traditionally the least crazy person on the team, with more than a little touch of panic. He needed Sven's sanity in his life. Is he crazy or is he actually hearing things? Wait, why is him hearing things the rational option here?! "What is it you're hearing, exactly?"

"What are you yelling at?" Romelle asked at about the same moment, even more unnerved than Vince.

Taking a step back and looking at their worried expressions, Sven forced himself to regain his composure. Not that he'd really lost all that much of it, but by his standards… he shook his head. "The growling is now a voice," he explained in a light, almost conversational tone that he really wasn't feeling at all. "It's trying to tell me I'm not crazy, but given it's a voice in my head, its arguments are not convincing."

The growl became amused again. Sven was not amused.

Romelle's immediate thought was of her mother, and she shivered a little while looking around. Still nothing but meadow to the left, lake to the right. "It isn't wise to ignore, if you're truly hearing voices. It could have… poor consequences."

"It's probably real," Vince agreed. "I mean, I believe you're not crazy? With the sparks and the weird metals and the…" Weird visions. No, he didn't want to even say that out loud here. "…I mean, our lives are never boring." I wish they were more boring.

"There are… many unexplained things in the universe." It felt like, as with so many things, the soldiers might know that even better than she did—but when someone was concerned about his very sanity, reassurance also seemed like the correct path.

Whether Sven was any more reassured by that than by the voice itself, he wasn't sure, but at least it was good to know they were on his side. "Ignoring it does seem unwise…" Shooting the two of them a slightly nervous look, he shrugged. What did he have to lose, really? "Who are you?" he asked of the unseen voice.

There was a pause before it answered, and he could hear—perhaps feel—it fading away. But the words were clear. "In time you will learn…"

…Really? "That," he muttered irritability as the growl faded, "is one of the most frustrating answers I have ever received."

"What did it say?" Vince sounded remarkably nonjudgmental, for someone asking about the mysterious voice in his head.

"'Be patient', but in a somehow much more infuriating way."

"Be patient?" Shrug. "We do that all the time." Not that it wasn't usually infuriating, but at least the answer was nothing worse than usual.

Nodding slowly, Romelle offered, "I've heard that patience is a virtue." It could be on Pollux, and very much so among the Drules; the phrase itself was one she'd learned as such in Common, so she had to assume the same applied to the Alliance.

Though Sven didn't look especially convinced of that, either. "They do say that. It's also said that good things come to those who wait. Usually it's just an excuse for people to sit on their asses and not get anything done."

Vince gawked; Romelle blushed. "Oh…" She understood his point, though something felt unintuitive about it, as well. "…Why would one sit on their pack beast and not do anything?"

"He means your butt, Princess," Vince whispered, much too flustered to forego the title.

It did not clear up her confusion at all, and she blushed even darker. "My butt?" She really needed to brush up on her Common colloquialisms, apparently.

"Not yours specifically… oy." And here he'd thought leaving Pidge on the ship meant things like this wouldn't happen.

"I think it works for either kind of ass," Sven said helpfully. "Because allegedly good things come to those who wait."

"No good comes of you swearing, sir." That much Vince was absolutely certain of.

Blinking, Sven looked back at him, then a small smile tugged at his lips. "Probably not. Guess he finally corrupted me…" It hurt, but he shoved the hurt aside as best he could. Jace would love this, and he was going to let himself be amused by it, damn it.

The young engineer smiled too, bittersweet, but genuine. "I'm sure he'd say something colorful to celebrate."

"Yes, he would," Sven scoffed. "And it'd be far worse than anything we could ever imagine."

Now Vince laughed outright. "Yeah, for sure."

Though they hadn't said the name, Romelle had a pretty good idea what was happening, both from the context and the wistful look on the navigator's face. "Your friend…" She pulled the borrowed jacket a little tighter and lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"…Thank you," he said, nodding a little stiffly. Get over it. Though he scolded himself, he knew he was getting over it. Slowly, the painful memories were giving way to the good. It hurt, but at least he could smile. That had to be progress…

Walking in silence for a bit, they rounded a bend in the lake and some tall coastal reeds only to find something new up ahead. Sven froze, eyes widening, motioning for the others to stop. Unless he was much mistaken, they'd finally found civilization.

If it could be called that.

Creeping forward, they found another stand of reeds to hide behind, getting a better look at what was in front of them. Not the castle they were looking for, but a village. It looked ruined, and not particularly recently; scorched timbers had tiny new shoots sprouting around them. A tattered blue and gold flag rippled in the wind, just visible from this distance. It didn't look Drule. Yet there was no sign of life anywhere.

"Oh my…" Romelle swallowed hard. Arusian though it was, the village was just… a village. Like so many on Pollux. Whoever had lived here once had nothing to do with the mistakes of their planet's past, and the shiver that ran through her at the emptiness was real and deep.

"It looks deserted," Vince said sadly, straining to see any hint of movement in the ruins. There was nothing. "Are we going to check it out? Or just report back?"

Sven frowned. This wasn't what they'd hoped for, but it wasn't unexpected. And it was dangerous ground—so many corners and shadows, any one of which could be hiding any Drules who'd come back to be sure it was still dead. Or any Arusians, for that matter; they didn't know the natives would be any friendlier. "Report back. I'd rather check it out with a few more of the team, just in case it's not as unoccupied as it seems."

"That… would probably be wise," Romelle agreed. Not that she knew much about reconnaissance risk assessment, but it seemed logical.

"I'm not arguing." Vince knew Sven could handle himself, but he and the princess didn't seem like the most capable backup. Then he hesitated. "Probably should report the uh… voice, too, huh?"

Oh, right. "I suppose." Sighing, the navigator turned. "Yes. We need to decide, as a group, if I'm insane or not." The gods only knew he didn't trust himself to make the assessment just now.

"You still seem very… rational," Romelle said quietly; Vince just snorted.

"Nobody else here has any right to call you insane, Sven. At least, not unless they admit that they are first."

Laughing, he started to lead them back up the lakeshore. At least that point seemed fair.