(From Ashes) Chapter 38

     Pride: From Ashes
        Chapter 38
        Moment of Truth

Despite dangers old and new, small things had been taking hold in the near-empty Castle of Lions. The old staff dining hall, for one; it would once have hosted an impressive spread at nearly all hours, ready for any time the castle personnel might need a break and some sustenance. What they'd reestablished lately paled in comparison, of course. But there was something comforting about the long table covered in a battered cloth, hosting pitchers of water and herbal brews, and even small trays of preserved tunnel-grown vegetables.

It wasn't much. And there weren't many, in relative terms, who took advantage of it. Personnel going above ground was still largely limited to the soldiers, but even so, it was a step. The slightest hint of normalcy, when nothing whatsoever was normal.

Allura had stopped by for a mug of vehka brew, greeting a few guards who'd passed through and getting brief status updates. There wasn't a great deal to be said about things happening inside the shelters, and that suited her just fine.

The incident in the chapel still weighed heavily. But as long as it had been isolated…

Refilling her mug to go, she ran into Keith at the door, almost literally. He took a quick step back and nodded. "Princess, I hoped I'd find you here. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course, I was just getting a drink." She gestured back inside, a wordless question; he shook his head. He didn't need anything right now. So they started to walk back down the hallway. "What's going on?"

"I've been thinking." He glanced back at the dining hall himself. "We have to be cautious, but there's still a lot that can be done, and even with the current mess being… what it is, we could be making more plans."

Aha. The reestablishment of the dining hall had been the work of Lady Vana and Lord Caysen, and they'd hoped it would be a first step that encouraged others. Allura hoped so too, for that matter; this seemed like a good sign. "Do you have any particular ideas?"

"I'm not sure." Keith still knew almost nothing about the situation on Arus before they'd arrived—or rather, before the Drules had arrived. "Trying to re-secure the village would be the first step, I'd imagine? I know Captain Sarial has her people keeping a close eye on it anyway. But that's a lot of territory." As settlements went, Dolce Vita was quite small. In absolute terms it was a lot of ground and a lot of structures, and they only had so much to work with. "What sort of infrastructure or facilities should we focus on, do you think?"

The princess couldn't help a small smile. There was only so much the lion pilots could really have to do with securing village facilities—though, with the destruction visited on Arus, the giant robot felines might have to try their paws at construction work sooner or later. But regardless of how direct their involvement would be, his initiative was nice to have.

To think there were Arusians who might still hold being offworlders against them.

"There is a forge that was geared towards making weapons. It used to supply the Royal Guard." Allura remembered the discussions well from when they'd retaken the village and the castle. It had been a point of contention; they'd ultimately chosen to ruin the Drules' own repair work on the facility. At the time it had been the best play. "It should be the priority. We will need to make our own weapons again, instead of just scavenging Drule equipment." That was a practical concern, of course.

It was far more than just a practical concern.

"A forge?" Keith nodded thoughtfully. "That could help for more than just weaponry, couldn't it?"

"Indeed." Allura's thoughts darted between the damage reports. "There was a bit of a manufacturing hub there before, for the castle's immediate needs. Very little of the machinery is intact, but if we focus there first who knows how quickly we might rebuild the rest."

"We could use the help for the lions, too. I know the ammo feed on Green was giving Pidge a lot of difficulty."

"Yes, the lions would need to take priority." What had been a distant hope was quickly becoming more concrete in Allura's mind as they discussed it. "I know we have some craftsmen left from the castle workshop who could oversee getting things back up to speed. They might even be able to get some things started in the shelters, before the area is fully secured."

"Securing it could be the issue." The chapel incident weighed a bit on Keith's mind, too. But the jaivur's attack on Lance weighed even more. Whether or not that specific threat remained, the castle and grounds were still vulnerable to infiltration-style attacks. "We'd have to have the militia or the guards establish a real perimeter."

"Yes. I know Captain Randel and Captain Sarial have been working on it, but they want the new volunteers to be more prepared first."

"Understandable." Keith exhaled. "We need to be ready, but we can't rush."

"Yes." Finishing her drink, Allura studied him for a minute. The thought of beginning to restore the village—the forge, specifically—would mean a great deal to her people. To be able to start standing on their own and not relying on the enemy's scraps. But it brought other thoughts to mind too, and the memory of his story in the infirmary. "Keith?"

"Hmm?"

"You mentioned learning how to use a sword from your mother." He paused for a moment at that, looking a little startled. "I'd… like to know more. How hard is it to learn?" An exercise to connect him with his heritage, he'd said; he must have started learning young. Certainly it was a very different angle on such things than Arus took.

"Um… I mean, it depends on the student, really. And the teacher, to be honest. My mother was very good, I'd like to think I took a little from her." The thought of the last student he'd taught drifted through his mind, and he swallowed back a lump in his throat. I might have been too good a teacher. "Why?"

"I've never even touched a sword. Not to wield, anyway." She stared into her empty cup. "Blades are seen as… rough weapons, on Arus. Noble to raise when needed, but restricted to those who are meant to be ready to kill. Royalty trains with less threatening, more… genteel things. My main skill is with a bow."

Keith remembered the lightning arrows she'd shot, and nodded. "You seem very good at that."

"It's great until the fights get to close range." Perhaps an enemy appearing inside of the castle was weighing on her a bit, too. But also, she'd promised to learn everything to prepare for combat… and she enjoyed learning everything she could, combat or no. "I would like to remove that disadvantage." She tilted her head. "And if you're willing, I would like to know what place swords have in your culture."

Now Keith was very startled, and gave a smile that felt a little awkward. "We would need training swords… and time, obviously. But if you want to learn, I'll do my best to teach you." Hopefully it goes better than last time…

No. It would go better than last time. They would make sure of it.

The princess smiled too, bright and not awkward at all. "I will give it my very best."

"Then I'll see what I can find, and let you know when we can start." His smile got a little easier too. It could be fun, really…

Rebuilding would come in many different forms.

*****

It had been early when Vince slipped out of the castle, the colors of sunrise still painted in the sky. Going outside was a calculated risk, and his risk calculations didn't tend to work like that. But it had been quiet, and he felt… well, he was feeling things.

Yes. Feeling things. That was what he was doing.

—"Rise and shine!"

"Ma, no…" Vince groaned as his curtains flew open and sunshine streamed in. It was early. Too early.

"Yes, Vince." Her tone was firm. Too firm.

He sighed; he was in trouble. The school had called. Angry he'd fried a computer… another one. "Ugh."

"Come on, day's just starting," she'd said as if that weren't the problem.

Far sooner than he wanted he was in the back garden with his mom. She'd made him wear a sunhat, which made his ears itch, and she had a kerchief over hers. Both of them on their hands and knees in the dirt, tending to what always seemed to him like very confusing tangles of leaves.

"Not those, those are flowers," she chided him gently as he went for a cluster of green.

He nodded and followed her lead on pulling up the actual weeds. There were so many; the task felt never ending. And he was just waiting and waiting for why he was really out here…

"Sooo." She drew out the o longer than necessary, he felt. He stayed quiet. "They said you were angry."

Feeling her eyes on him, he frowned and grumbled, "Before or after."

"Hmm, interesting distinction… get those weeds by the mushrooms."

Mushrooms! He wrinkled his nose. "But…"

She laughed. "Go on, really get your hands in the dirt, Vince." Nodding, he let his hand dip into the earth a bit, wondering what was supposed to be so fun about this. The dirt was cool and clumpy and…

"How?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

She let out a small breath, studying him intently. He knew the feeling; she didn't have to say anything. Not anymore.

"I really don't, Ma."

"…Well, all the same, some more time with the dirt will do you good. We'll keep up until this and the vegetable patch are weed free… by then Mom should have our lunch ready."

Vince nodded and soon she started humming, happy in the dirt, and he watched her and wondered how she could calm her brain like that. Because his was always wondering, always worrying. When would he spark again, why would he, why, why, why…

The question never left him.—

And so Vince was in the memorial garden, feeling his fingers dig into the earth as he pulled weeds away from Jace's thorny flower. The plot was rather unruly with small shoots of green, and part of him wondered again why he was out here. But he'd needed a moment to himself. His secret was out, and he wasn't… hated.

They all understood.

Maybe, in some ways, even more than him.

His Ma was in his head, how she wanted him to feel the dirt, spend time in her gardens with her. And he found himself wondering what she'd think about what was happening now—at what the creepy voice in his head represented.

Vince felt Yellow's purr and groaned, but didn't bother trying to mental glare him away. Not anymore… he sighed. She was always dragging him outside, his Ma, and he'd usually resisted at least a bit. But he always was really put to the task of weeding after a sparking incident…

Now he wondered if she'd been quite unsubtly trying to ground him. Not in the punishment way; he rolled his eyes at his train of thought. How hadn't he seen it? And was it why he kept coming back to this garden? To keep it tended, to keep them honored. He missed her… both of them, and his grannies. He missed their advice, even as he'd run back and forth here trying to avoid any advice he didn't like.

They'd be disappointed that his quest for answers had turned into his head in the sand. He pulled up a few more weeds, trying to get his brain to stop swirling. He knew that was why she'd had him do this too, mindless, easy work—had she, too, been trying to find him some zen?

Maybe he just hadn't been ready.

He still wasn't ready.

Watching his fingers go into the dirt, he thought about what else they were capable of doing. The surge, the light…

"What are you hiding from?"

The lion's voice was clear, but he couldn't tell if it was a memory or Yellow actually speaking. Maybe it was both? They both knew he knew…

But answers were scary, so he just took a breath and kept weeding.

*****

Lance had returned to Red's den. His volcano-watching spot in the castle was out of the question for the foreseeable future, which was definitely a pragmatic security measure and not…

No, he couldn't even lie to himself about that, but it didn't matter all that much. The sight of the den still took his breath away. Lava churned like an ocean, bright fiery bubbles seething on the surface, and he could still get lost in the wonder if he let himself.

There was magic here, things he could scarcely believe, in this place that was so much like home…

As a wave of lava broke against the obsidian banks, he found himself touching his lips and immediately drew his hand back. The memory ached, but it didn't freeze like it had. It burned, like the roiling magma around him. Determination had taken hold. He just didn't want to think about it, and nothing guaranteed something would stay in your head like trying not to think about it.

"Hey Lance!"

Daniel had been in the cockpit, trying to chill out a little—silly thing to do with the Lion of Flame, maybe, but it had been working so far. But he'd decided after a bit that he wanted to see the den from Red's own perspective, so he'd climbed out onto the lion's head.

Which had been a pretty impressive feat, if he did say so himself.

Startling—he'd not really even looked in the direction of the lion when he arrived—Lance smiled a bit as he saw what his copilot was up to. Up on, whatever. "Hey, kid."

Sliding down to lean over Red's nose, Daniel gave him a big smile. "Whatcha doing?"

Avoiding… "Watching the lava waves."

"Sounds exciting."

Snort. "I'm known for knowing how to have a good time!" The fact that Daniel's comment had even been sarcastic was weird. Objectively weird. Any other context, anywhere else, and watching lava waves up close would damn well be exciting! Not…

Soothing?

Red purred.

Eyeing him, Daniel couldn't help thinking he still seemed a little bit off. Who could blame him, really? "How're your bruises?"

Exactly what I'm avoiding. "They're bruises." He frowned slightly. The kid had saved his bacon up there, and they hadn't really talked about it since the moment. Overtaken by events. Let's talk about someone that isn't me. "You know, you really lit up that fucking zombie."

"I did," he agreed with a smile. He knew a Lance deflection when he heard one, of course, but if that was what he needed then fine. Besides, thinking about that might have been related to why he'd come down here to chill out. "I really think I finally figured this whole fire thing out!" To demonstrate, he tried to conjure a bit of flame—he got a tiny sputtering of embers, which was definitely what he should've expected with no real emotion behind it. "Kinda."

"Well it was fucking amazing timing." Lance let out a long breath. "Thanks."

"Just doing my Sentinel duty." Smirk. "Pretty sure that saving your ass is going to be the majority of my job." It was literally in the name, wasn't it? Sort of?

Red seemed amused again.

"Oh really." Lance laughed, wanting to say more… but he still didn't want to think too hard, so he settled for the next best deflection. "Just never burn my jacket."

That got him a slowly raised eyebrow and a very suspicious exhale. "I don't think I could make that kind of promise, even if my skill level weren't about a four out of ten."

"Yeah? Well, I have higher expectations than that."

"This has nothing to do with expectations!" And using that word had really been uncalled for. "It's about practicality. What if burning your jacket would save your life?"

Lance stared at him in horror, working his jaw for several seconds before finally getting some words out. "WHY would you put THAT into the universe?!"

"Because! We're the Voltron Force now! Who knows what kind of weird and horrible evils we'll have to face?" And that wasn't a joke at all, but he was just getting started. "We already know there was one War of the Infested or whatever, what if it happens again? Your jacket could get magically infected and the only way to stop its reign of leathery terror is to destroy it!" There was a big smirk on his face, and it was only getting bigger. "I just need you to be emotionally prepared for the possibility that one day I might have to turn your jacket into a pile of ashes."

Daniel was getting a new comic idea. He wondered what had happened to the old comic; the Drules had probably found it, if they'd searched the Bolt at all. He hoped it had confused the hell out of a couple of them.

"Leathery terror," Lance echoed, his horror giving way to a small grin. He needed this. "Just what kind of trouble do you think it could create? Especially without my help."

"Oh I have some ideas. You remember what I told you about the mannequin? Imagine how much trouble I've caused with clothes that weren't sentient. That thing? That has sleeves it could use to strangle you, and that's only the least creative threat!"

Lance knew a Daniel rant when he heard one spinning up, and sat back to listen, smirking. And soon, for the first time in entirely too long, laughter began to ring through Red's den.

*****

We have to find someone.

It was the only thought in Flynn's mind as he stumbled forward. Half of his effort went to remaining steady; too many burns remained, still crackling with the silvery energy of the lions. The other half focused like a laser on that thought.

We have to find someone.

It was perfectly in keeping with the witch's orders. What she'd done to them—conditioning, corruption, brainwashing, he still didn't know exactly what it was—didn't conflict. He had to find someone if he intended to kill them. And to be sure, he was searching with the intent of someone ending up dead.

This time we can't fail…

There was no sign of any lions overhead. Perhaps they thought they'd finished the job before. Still, he made no effort at stealth as he slowly approached the castle. Hoping one would launch, find him, end it. But there was nothing.

Then, there was movement. Not a lion, but someone kneeling in a patch of dirt, working with a few mismatched plants that nonetheless seemed to be there quite deliberately.

…No. Not him. We can't do that to him. Recognizing who was there sent a flash of panic through him, but anger followed immediately. A flickering burst of purple energy gathered between his hands. Gritting his teeth, working with the others, he regained his wits and dispelled it—but how many times would that work? How long could he stay in control?

He can do what needs to be done.

No fucking time to be picky, chief.

Nodding his agreement with the others, Flynn moved forward towards the crouched form that still hadn't noticed his presence.

"Vince…"

Somehow Vince froze and jumped at the same time—all of his limbs locked up even as he whipped around to face the voice. That voice. He barely kept his feet as fear gripped him, and Yellow growled low in the back of his mind.

He wholeheartedly agreed with the lion, and yet… what he was staring at was something different than the seemingly invulnerable jaivur who'd first attacked them. "F-F… Flynn?" He was obviously badly wounded, the Drule armor broken and scorched, angry swaths of burnt skin visible beneath.

"Vince, you…" Words weren't easy to form, and it wasn't just from physical damage. Kill him. It would be so easy. Fighting the thought down was harder, but he threw it aside, eyes darting around. No apparent backup in sight. More worrisome, no weapons. "The others?"

"Others?" Vince looked around frantically too, though he knew he was alone out here. If only he weren't, why the fuzzmuffins had he been brave enough to leave the shelter of the castle? All his instincts were screaming for him to turn and run, but he wasn't sure if he could make himself move.

And Flynn seemed like… Flynn?

Just kill him! No.

There wasn't time. "It has to be you, then." The anger that bubbled up now was his own. Their own, united, rather than conflicted and drowning out his thoughts. It shouldn't have been this way. But it was, and Vince didn't need a weapon. "I don't know how long—" Toxic energy arced between his hands as he struggled for the words, and he forced it down with everything he had. "Fucking—you have to kill me!"

Vince sprang back at the energy spike, and the words made him no less terrified. "I… what?"

"Your lions did something. You have to end this!"

"Me?" It came out as a squeak. "How could I possibl…" He trailed off as a different kind of energy spiked. Arcs of brilliant silver raced through the jaivur's burns, the same energy he'd seen drawing the lions together the time he'd seen Voltron form.

The same silvery energy that he…

Your lions did something.

And the answers that had been far too frightening to even think about were there, staring at him, daring him to accept it. Demanding he accept it, to…

He wants me to kill him?!

It sounded like a trap. Or maybe he just hoped it was a trap, because even that was better than if it wasn't.

"I think he speaks the truth, cub. The chains are weak."

Fuzzmuffins. Vince's eyes widened. Yellow, I…

There wasn't time for this. Flynn took a shaky step forward, looking him in the eye. We shouldn't have to ask this of you. He remembered the moments they'd spent on Arus with more clarity than anything since becoming a jaivur. Trying to make him see… "You know how."

"I really wanna argue that." Vince looked at his hands, feeling his heart race. Do I know how? It had never come at will. Not even in the arena, the one time it had felt in the moment like it made sense.

"I know you do." Frustration was the enemy, and his eyes flared with purple light. "Then you can d—no, faex!" He shook it off as the burns arced. "This shouldn't be on you… there isn't time!"

Vince felt his heart pounding in his throat, ringing in his ears. No, he'd been wrong, this wasn't like Flynn at all. Frightened and desperate—something Vince had never seen from him in life, or even in death. He shouldn't even be here. No, he should be here, alive. "Like when you were a ghost," he whispered. "We didn't have time." Something was trying to make itself heard through the pounding in his ears. A glimmer…

He has to be the one.

Fucking come on, Sparky…

"We never did." Words were even harder, control was dissolving, the voices of the others becoming fragmented. "Vince, please."

And suddenly, he had it.

No time. If he'd just accepted what the ghosts were telling him earlier, would they have caught the witch's attention? If he'd just understood his powers faster, could he have saved them on Korrinoth? He could ask himself those questions a million times and never truly know the answers.

But it wasn't about his own questions, just like it hadn't been in the arena. They needed him now. The team needed him now. And for the team…

Everything we ever asked of you.

"I wasn't fast enough before," he whispered, bringing his hands up. But this time I will be.

"I'm sorry—it shouldn't have been—" In a flare of venomous energy, the jaivur rage burned out of control. "…YOU shouldn't have made it out EITHER!" He lunged forward, grabbing Vince's wrists.

And Vince remembered.

—He remembered watching them die.

First Cam. Brave and reckless with a focused resolve. I'll distract it, buy us some time…

And Vince hadn't said anything, he'd just watched it unfold. Daniel being held back by Lance. Pidge stepping in to stop the rest of them. All of them knowing, on varying levels, that Cam was right… none of them prepared for what that meant.

He remembered wanting to run after him, despite all his wiser instincts, but he'd been frozen in place and then Cam was gone.

One of them was dead and he wasn't sure how to be part of the plan. He was terrified and felt useless. And he tried to be part of the team, but what could he really do? He'd only felt on the side and out of sync, and certain he would be next to die.

Only he wasn't. It was Jace instead. Doing what Jace did, rushing to them when they were hurt. This time Daniel. But there was little he could do and the monster targeted them because they were vulnerable.

But Jace wouldn't let Daniel die.

Vince remembered the feeling as that sacrifice tore at something inside of him. His fear turning to pain and anger, needing to do something, needing to help. Certain this time he would be next, that he needed to move and fight or he would die. But he still felt useless and scared. Unable to face what lay within, even to save himself.

Until he watched Flynn move to protect Pidge. Watched his weapon shatter like it was made of dust. Watched Flynn hit the dirt of the arena and knew he'd never stand again…

It wasn't about him. Not his fear. Not his being next. It was the realization that if he didn't fight more of them would die. All of them would die.

And he remembered more.

He remembered his other deepest fear. He remembered why he felt wary of the thing that was inside of him, the power that had no rhyme or reason. The sparks that rose up when he panicked, or was startled. That seemed to come out of nowhere. That he now understood was within him because of the thing he knew deep down.

One clear thing he knew, but he'd fled resolutely from thinking or feeling it. He didn't need that.

But he needed it now, didn't he? His grief had called to it, and he felt himself think it for the first time ever, as the visions and the strange distant constellations glimmered in the back of his mind.

You have power. You can use it. You can win. You aren't useless in this fight. You can save everyone who's left…

If you accept that you aren't all human.

A moment of instinct. He'd barely blinked, and the robeast was in reach and his grief, anger and clarity came out in three bursts of white hot power that screamed for the fallen.

But anger and desperation hadn't been acceptance.

Vince remembered the crippling guilt. He hadn't accepted it sooner, and that was why they'd died. But he'd just repeated the same mistakes, trying to tell himself it was over now, he didn't need to face it again and face why he'd understood it to begin with. But that was why Flynn—this jaivur—was facing him now. He felt the guilt at not listening to their help when the ghosts visited, reaching out to him to guide him despite it all. Again, he'd thought he could hide from what he truly was…

But not anymore.

He looked Flynn in the eye. He would save him. He felt Flynn's hands around his wrists but he knew now. He could will it… and he unleashed the power that lived in him. That was him. That came from a place he didn't yet know, but he knew what that place wasn't.

It wasn't at all human.—

The silvery lightning blazed to life the second the jaivur touched him, for once obeying him as he focused. First the sickly purple glow flickered and sputtered, then faded outright; the energy continued to flow. It sank into the existing burns, resonating with the traces the lions had left, shooting through armor and muscle and bone, leaving nothing but blinding light in its wake.

For half an instant, as he watched in half-detached horror, Vince thought he saw Flynn smile.

And then he was gone.

A few glimmers of light remained; deep violet, with white and greenish gold tendrils swirling around it. Vince thought he even understood what he was seeing for a moment before it vanished, and he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. "Was that… did I…?"

Yellow Lion gave a growl that sounded slightly agitated. "It is no longer hidden."

Well that didn't answer any of his questions, least of all the one he'd asked. Though he couldn't disagree. "It's scary. THAT WAS SCARY!"

"There is no shame in fear, cub." The lion purred. "Without fear there cannot be courage. Without facing what frightens you, you cannot find wisdom…"

"Wisdom? How…" No, he didn't want to ask that, not when there were a million other more pressing issues. "Are they gone?"

Yellow was silent for entirely too long. "The energy of the abomination remains. It is altered."

That was a lot of words to say no, but also seemed like an unusually straight answer by the standards of the lions. "Then it's not over? They aren't… saved?"

"It is not over," the lion confirmed. "I cannot tell exactly what has happened. But you've eliminated the vessel… and perhaps will bring more hope for what comes next."

"Hope?" He'd hoped to save them. If he hadn't succeeded, he supposed he still could hope, but…

"There is a decision you must make, cub."

"…Oh." He looked at his hands, watching vestiges of energy crackle between his fingers, arcing in time with his racing heart. The clarity was still there; he couldn't run from it, wouldn't run from it, anymore. What he'd done… for Flynn, for Jace and Cam, for all of them… "Yeah." He reached up and wiped away a few tears he hadn't felt gathering. "Okay."

"Come to me, cub. We must stand face to face for you to truly decide."

Vince nodded slowly, rising to his feet, taking one last look at where the jaivur had been standing. Not a trace of it remained, like a nightmare vanquished by the daylight. But it's not over. And I'm not…

…No, perhaps he wasn't ready to say it in so many words yet. But he knew. And he wasn't running anymore.

Lifting his gaze from his hands, he started for the castle and the tunnels. His heart was still pounding like an earthquake in his ears.

The truth was loud.

*****

The shelters were starting to run low on several medications—well, several more than usual. Usable salves could only be created so quickly from the raw materials, and little of what the shelters had to rely on was particularly efficient. So expanding the ranks of the Arusian forces, with all the attendant training mishaps, was putting a strain on the supply.

Being unable to rely on safely scavenging the foothills lately wasn't helping. Larmina had volunteered for a deep excursion into the forest, and had additionally volunteered Pidge to help her.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but the silence was uncomfortable…

"Over here, these little pink fuzzy things. Piraykca berries. They're used for, uh…" She waved her hands vaguely. Much as her Common had improved since the offworlders arrived, specialized terms were still kind of a lost cause. "Sleeping."

"Got it." She noticed Pidge being very careful with the plant as he cut through the stems and laid several sprigs of berries on the transport sled. In fact, she'd been noticing the hints of caution in his movements in general… she hadn't really paid attention to it before.

And she didn't like it.

Pidge didn't like it either, for that matter. "Could you stop looking at me like that?"

"…Like what?"

He glared, she glared back, and Green Lion sighed.

"The two of you are insufferable. It's cute."

"Who are you calling insufferable?" they both snapped in unison, then exchanged confused looks.

"…Oh."

"Okay, fair." Pidge cut up another bunch of the piraykca berries, then leaned back against a nearby tree and sighed. He'd expected her to be on edge around him, really. Only logical under the circumstances. "Go ahead. Ask."

Larmina hesitated. "Ask what?" Even she didn't think she sounded very convincing. "Ask if you're expecting me to try to kill you?"

…That was not what he'd expected at all. "Um, I promise I'd have told Green no about this whole bonding thing if I thought you wanted me dead."

She supposed, in retrospect, that was a completely reasonable point. "So you're just like this all the time?"

Pidge sighed. There was no point pretending he didn't know exactly what she was talking about, and if he tried to shrug it off things would probably only get even more awkward. "Ask Vince how many times I've drawn on him. Remember that he is Vince."

The thought of Vince inspiring anyone to draw a weapon on him was certainly, well, a thought. "Yikes."

"Yeah. Come on, what's next." He pushed off the tree and started walking again, but Larmina didn't follow.

"What did you think I was going to ask?"

He stopped again. If I answer that she's going to ask it, isn't she?

"Probably."

You're going to make me do it.

"Not at all, Windseeker. I would hardly force you to simply get the inevitable over with, rather than fearing and dwelling on it until—"

—Okay okay, point taken! Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Larmina. "I thought you were going to ask me to elaborate on the time someone did try to kill me." Pause. "The first time."

"I was going to do that eventually," she admitted with a shrug.

Of course she was.

But then… he had known it would happen, from the moment he'd revealed that secret. Flynn would… no. Flynn would approve of him opening up more, no doubt, but the fact that Larmina was literally his copilot—who he trusted not to kill him, apparently—was more pertinent to the situation.

Green would approve?

"That is also true," the lion purred. "But you still must decide what steps you are willing to take, and when."

Pidge nodded slowly, then took a long, harsh breath.

I can take this step.

"Veli. His name was Veli." He closed his eyes. "Baltans start martial training at five. My mother had been one of her old instructor's favorite students, and he really wanted my brother in his class. She told him we were a package deal."

"Your brother?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Nod. "Yashao. My twin." It was clear, from his tone, that he wasn't going to elaborate on that. Larmina supposed it was fair. She was asking quite a bit already, and Balto seemed like the kind of hellhole where you should stick to one story at a time. "Master Rekkas wanted him more than he didn't want a varetya, so he accepted us both and just treated me like hell to make up for it."

Larmina sat next to the sled, drawing one knee to her chest. "That sounds lovely. How are you supposed to learn anything like that? I couldn't even learn anything in my… finishing schools, I guess they are in Common, and all they did was complain behind my back about teaching a bastard." She'd been pretty used to it by then; it hadn't even been why she'd gotten kicked out.

"Well, when you're sparring against other people, learning is really the only option." Pidge snorted. "I liked Veli, though, as much as I ever liked anyone I wasn't related to. He was too busy making himself the perfect Shinori warrior to care about bullying me."

"Heartwarming," she muttered. Which had probably been uncalled for, but he made a vague sound of agreement.

"A couple of the worst students decided that since Master Rekkas hated me so much, they'd gain his favor if they got rid of me. So they jumped me during a test." He shook his head slightly. "I heard them coming, I fought them off. But they called Veli for backup." Sigh. "He was the perfect Shinori warrior, remember. And I was just varetya. An animal. But I fought back… and I got lucky." He shivered. "You know, if you call throwing him into an industrial tank and watching him melt 'lucky'."

…No. No, that was absolutely not what she would call lucky. He was staring somewhere straight through her, and one hand had gone to his knife. Green purred softly, and a wind circled the two of them, seeming to snap him out of it a little.

"Bynaute," she said quietly, then shrugged when he turned to focus on her. "It means 'I'm sorry', kind of, except not really because it's not an apology. It's just, uh…"

"…An expression of sympathy?" he suggested dryly.

"Yeah, that. And you probably don't want it but you're stuck with it now."

He stared at her for what felt like an awfully long time. Longer than the comment had warranted, definitely. But he didn't seem upset, more like… stunned, maybe? She wasn't sure what to make of the look on his face.

Another swirling wind snapped him free of it. "…So your turn, what exactly is a bastard?"

All the twinges of sympathy Larmina was feeling gave way to a glare. "I see you trying to change the subject."

Shrug. "I don't think I was hiding it."

"No, you weren't." She made a face. "But I want to change the subject too, so fine, I'll answer and we can never speak of any of this again, deal?"

"Deal."

"A bastard, at least in my context, is nobility of unknown parentage. My mother made the minor mistake of falling in love with a Duke whose brother was in the process of usurping him." Saying that out here was much easier than back in the infirmary; wasn't like the banewolves would care if they overheard. "Admitting that I was his daughter, once dear old Uncle Shady got through with him, would've been even worse than just letting everyone think Mother had a fling with some castle courier or something. So that's what she did."

Pidge slowly raised an eyebrow. "Your mother was the Queen of…"

"The Seven Isles."

"Right, that. Why wouldn't being her daughter be enough? Wasn't it her throne and not his either way?"

Larmina nearly laughed. Balto must not be a monarchy. She didn't even bother saying it out loud; it really didn't sound like the sort of planet that would be. Imagine if they had a barette-ya or whatever it's called in a royal line. "See, I asked that a few times and the only answers I got were some… rambling on about propriety and tradition. My only value was that the throne would go through me, and only by marrying a nice, proper suitor to fix my little gap in the bloodline."

"Heartwarming," Pidge said wryly, and she snorted. She'd deserved that. "See, that's weird even for Balto. People caring that much who your parents were is weird, people caring who your parents weren't is even weirder."

"Huh." That sounded attractive, of course, but… the baggage. The baggage. For as much as she'd thought she hated everything about Arusian royal nonsense, she didn't think she would trade it for Baltan telepathic nonsense. "Guess we all have our ups and downs?"

"I guess," he agreed quietly. It was a fair point.

Larmina wasn't completely sure why she blurted out what came next. But she felt Green's approval, which both encouraged her and told her it was a mistake.

"Mother told me that was still important… being the key to the throne, I mean. That I alone got to choose who would become the next King, that I could pick someone who cared about me and our people and not just a crown." She sighed. "But it always rang kind of empty, you know?"

"I can see how it would," Pidge agreed after thinking it through for a minute. His parents had always told him he would find where he belonged someday—and hard as that had been to cling to, at times, it had been something. Perhaps he was missing some nuances of royalty, but Larmina sounded like she'd mostly been told she would find who she belonged to. "…Bynaute," he murmured, then frowned before she could respond. "Deal with it."

Larmina actually giggled. For about half a second, then she got her composure back. "Sure, whatever."

And didn't that sound familiar? "You know, I'm starting to think Green Lion might have known what she was doing after all."

His copilot raised an eyebrow. "I don't think we need to get that carried away."

Both of them could hear the lion in question roaring with laughter as they moved deeper into the trees.

*****

Hunk had been released from the sling surprisingly quickly. It had coincided with a second attempt to switch up his painkillers, this time with one hundred percent less allergic reaction! The Arusians had cautioned that the new ones might make him a little bit… well, the word Lady Hys had used was "harebrained".

Sometimes he really wanted to know where she'd learned Common. Surely through the Rosetta Repository Project, like every other planet that learned Common without actually talking much to the Alliance, but the governess certainly had a spin on it.

He wondered if she sounded that way to Arusians, too.

Right now, she sounded fussy, which was not unusual. And he wasn't feeling at all harebrained. Which, frankly, was a subject he felt he was an expert on.

"They believe you are ready to begin physical therapy. Dr. Gorma notes that it will likely be unpleasant, but," she peered disapprovingly at him over the report, "he also notes that it will be nothing compared to the many unwise excursions you have taken upon yourself voluntarily."

He considered that and shrugged. "I mean, ain't wrong."

"I applaud you for not arguing." The fact that she'd never attempted to correct his grammar actually made him wonder even more about her understanding of Common; it just seemed like something she should do. Not that he was going to say so. Maybe she was getting used to them.

Yellow gave a low, somewhat distressed growl, and he blinked. "Uh, hang on a sec, Your Ladyness. I've got another call." What's up? That didn't sound like commentary on the present company. Not that I'd blame you…

She sputtered and started to snarl something, but then his eyes glowed briefly and she stepped back. Dealing with the pilots of the Great Lions, confusing and possibly-blasphemous though they were, did offer the occasional useful social cue.

And she didn't really have anywhere else to be right now. There was a great deal of work happening in the shelters lately, and it was almost all military in nature. With unknown threats lurking both on and off the planet, propriety was giving way to prudence even more than usual.

Not that she would ever admit it, but Lady Hys was feeling slightly less than useful around here.

Hunk gave her a small nod of appreciation when she backed off. He'd learned she appreciated the little things, and he could do the little things! If he absolutely needed to, anyway.

"It is not unrelated to present company," Yellow growled. "But not your present company."

Dude, that kinda ominous is uncalled for.

"You would be surprised." He could feel the lion's agitation. "…You should come to my den, Earthwarder. As quickly as possible."

Um…?! How was he supposed to do that, exactly? Dude, I'm stuck in an infirmary with Lady Nanny or whoever she is, how are you expecting me to bail? Stealth isn't my thing!

"Stealth, no." Yellow chuckled, though it was still wary. "But you do have your skills. This is necessary, Earthwarder."

Hunk hesitated, then looked at Lady Hys again and frowned slightly. If there was anything she'd made clear over all their dealings…

This can't possibly go wrong, right? Right! "So Your Ladyness…"

Her eyes narrowed. "Mr. Garrett, that is not the proper form of address."

"Right! Sorry." That had been in the booklet. "Your Ladyship!" He bowed his head in the best approximation of a bow he was liable to get. "I'd never ask ya to go even more out of your way to help a hooligan, yeah? But I might need some backup here." He gave his most cheerful grin. "You know how you're bein' all super helpful to us, so that we can help protect Arus better?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I certainly am doing my best."

"Totally." He glanced around the room. "So if I told you I needed to get to my lion right now… without the Doc knowing until I'm gone…"

She glared.

He smiled. "For Arus?"

She kept glaring, because it was absurd. And yet… for Arus. She'd accepted a great many unpleasant truths and unwelcome tasks for her world. If the planet's new defenders knew what they required—and so far, she had to admit they'd been successful enough—could she live with herself if she refused the aid they needed?

With a long, resigned sigh, she nodded. "…What exactly are you needing me to do?"

Hunk's grin, somehow, got even wider as he waved her over. "Okay so the first thing we're gonna need is a commotion. I'm gonna call a couple friends but they can't get into the infirmary proper, yeah?" She gave him a look, and he winked. "Their names are Baldy One and Baldy Two, I'll introduce ya someday, promise."

He'd come a long way from putting cats in boxes. But he also hadn't changed very much at all.

*****

Having had only a couple of short patrols so far, Romelle was not at all acclimated to Blue Lion's back seat. Wasting the current reprieve had seemed unwise, so…

"So you can pretty much take control of any weapons except for the elemental cannon, it seems like." Sven cocked his head. She'd been reading off labels of what she had access to as they worked through the backseater's weapon controls, and he felt like some of them were much stranger than others. The claw missiles, in particular, seemed unwise for the copilot to be firing off.

Then again, once they learned to work together, it might make sense? Options were preferable to a lack of options.

"She has a lot of weapons, doesn't she?" Romelle was running through the list in her mind, trying to be sure she had it. There were just so many missiles. And there was one he hadn't really discussed other than telling her they'd get to it later, which had gotten him a bit of grief from Blue. "What about this last one?"

"The particle projector cannon." He sighed. "That one can be complicated."

"Complicated," she repeated, raising her head and giving him her most innocent look. "Like spoons?"

"It causes devastating damage to the enemy, but also drains our own weapon systems of power in the process…" He trailed off as her question fully registered and muttered sarcastically, "Excellent transition."

"Sorry." She blushed and sat back. Perhaps she'd misjudged that…

Then he raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yes, spoons are just as complicated, if not more so." He turned around in his seat, looking her over. "Was there another question in that?"

…Yes, yes there was. Much as she needed to understand the lion, Romelle knew she needed to understand her frontseater too. And every new bit of information made him more intriguing, if not also more confusing. "I just want to know more. Were you as… sheltered as a child as I was? Were you that important on Earth?" Sven always seemed so… confident. And she was improving, but she still felt she had a ways to go.

"Sheltered? Yes. Important?" He snorted. "To my parents."

Romelle winced at the irritation in his voice, and a small frown crossed over her face. "Children should always be important to their parents."

If only it were always the case…

Catching the shift in her tone, Sven's expression softened a little. "I agree." He understood where she was coming from. "What I meant was, I'm not important, in terms of Earth politics. But my mother is an Ambassador and my father is a Senator, and having a certain family image was important."

"Oh." Romelle considered that. She understood it in some sense; the crown of Pollux had needed to project a certain image, too. Any internal disagreements or family squabbles were to be kept out of the light, or else. Even before the Drules it had been so. "Were they hoping you would take after them? With the finishing school and all?"

"They never tried to force any specific career goals on me." Some strong hints, yes—but even those had been more vague comments about his potential. Never really telling him what to do, just making it quietly clear what he was not to do. "They just wanted me to be safe… so of course I joined the military."

Though she couldn't entirely relate to the idea of chafing against safety, there was something deeper there that Romelle thought made sense. "Longing for what you couldn't have… or shouldn't?"

"I suppose that had a hand in it, but it wasn't that rebellious." Sven shifted in his seat. "It was more about seeking adventure."

"Well," she gave a soft smile, "seems you certainly found it eventually."

"I certainly did," he agreed, smiling too. It was… harsher, more painful, than whatever childhood fantasies he'd had about adventure. But more incredible too, more exhilarating, and he wouldn't have traded any of what he'd been through for the stifling shelter of his old life. Purity. He tilted his head, studying her more carefully. "What about you, what did you want to do when you grew up? Did you expect any choice in the matter?" He assumed the older brother she'd mentioned would have been the one meant for the throne, though who knew…

"Honestly, I don't know." Romelle looked away for a moment. If she were completely honest, she'd expected her role for the crown would have been doing as she was told… it was what she'd been told to do that had caused all of the problems. "I was trained for diplomacy of course. I'd done a good deal of traveling, but all carefully controlled. I always wondered what it would be like to not have the constraints of being a princess…" She bit her lip. "I suppose I found out, but it's been very trying. I keep feeling a bit overwhelmed by what I've taken on."

Sven supposed she should feel that way, truthfully. He'd at least had the mission and the team to ease him into facing down hell. But she drew a small grin from him, too. "Well, I get the feeling we may do a lot of traveling as Voltron pilots. Especially once I figure out the lions' faster-than-light method, which I will."

"Optari willing," she agreed softly, and giggled as Blue Lion gave a slightly concerned growl. Hopefully the process of finding the FTL system, whatever it might take, wouldn't be too distressing.

"I can only imagine," Blue grumbled.

Well, may as well spare the poor lion for now; they did have more immediate concerns. "So, the particle projector cannon. Probably should be a last resort, as I understand it?"

"Basically." Sven nodded. "Forming Voltron seems to replenish the weapons power, but of course that's not a practical solution, and Blue has hinted there might be others but…" He rolled his eyes. "You know how that is. But in just the right circumstances, the cannon can be incredibly useful."

Romelle nodded, settling in as he moved on to the next system. She needed to learn, after all. And his voice was really quite pleasant.

That thought might have brought a little blush to her cheeks. But it wasn't the time to worry about that, either.

*****

Though Vince had started the walk slowly, hoping it might calm him down, by the end it wasn't calming and it certainly wasn't slow. There was too much racing through his head. Too much to process, too many things he would have to face in so many words soon enough. Of course, right now he should probably be focused on facing the robot lion that was waiting for him.

The shuttle hadn't been in its place, and he really hadn't thought much about it as he made his way through the tunnel. It was only when he reached the den that he realized, and his jaw dropped.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I mean, Gorma would say yes for sure." Hunk was sitting on a large chunk of rock with a vulture on either side, and if Vince hadn't known better he'd have said the one on his right was helping keep his arm steady. "But Yellow said no and Lady Hys was the tiebreaker so here I am."

Blink. …Know what, nope. He did not have the bandwidth for any of that right now. "Well, uh, you should be here I guess." Honestly, Vince was glad to see him, even if it did seem ill-advised.

Hunk leaned forward a little and grimaced, but the new painkillers were doing their job well enough. "You uh, look more freaked than usual. And it's definitely got somethin' to do with why Yellow dragged me outta the infirmary, yeah?"

Yeah, you could say that. For a moment Vince fumbled to say anything. "Uh, I um…" How was he supposed to explain what he hadn't even processed? "I zapped him."

It took Hunk a few moments, but only a few moments. Yellow's ominous 'explanation' rushed back and his eyes widened. "Him. Them-him, that him?"

Vince nodded. "He uh…" His voice broke, but he forced the words through because it was better than keeping them to himself. "…Asked me to kill him."

Though his eyes widened still further—for a moment it looked like they might actually pop out, and that certainly wouldn't help anything—Hunk didn't actually speak at first. He just motioned for Vince to come closer, which earned him a couple of hesitant steps.

"Dude. I can't stand up but I am gonna give you a hug, get over here."

…Vince could really, really use a hug right now. He snorted and walked pretty much right into him, careful of the big guy's injured side, but holding on as tight as he dared while Hunk swept him into a one-armed hug that came awfully close to knocking the wind out of him. Which absolutely would've been a fair trade too.

Hunk gave it a minute before lightening up, frowning. "Wait. So you had to go through that, and this guy," he jerked his head towards the lion looming behind him, "hauled you down here like, immediately? Dude, not cool."

Yellow gave a moderately chastised growl. "I would have given the cub more time if I believed we had it."

…Oh, that didn't sound great. "Oh."

"Yeah." Vince had loosened his grip, but not actually moved away. The connection with someone alive was helping bring a little bit of the pounding fear down. "Yellow says I didn't really stop it." He lowered his eyes. "I wanted to finally save them."

"I mean, I feel that, little dude." Hunk shook his head slowly. "Sounds like you at least pulled somethin' off, yeah? That's better than the rest of us did."

It had been something, alright. Vince pushed the image out of his mind, trying to cling to the knowledge that Flynn had been smiling—he had, hadn't he?—without actually having to see it in his mind. "Tried to, anyway."

"It matters, little dude. Believe me."

Yellow growled in agreement. "It does matter."

Vince wasn't completely sure how much that reassured him. Hunk seemed to notice, and gave him another little grin. "Sometimes you've gotta set off more than one charge to crack the door, yeah? First one might not finish the job, but you can't finish the job if you don't start it!"

"Yeah." That oddly made a lot of sense. "I guess I'm ready for more charges…" The lion purred, and he looked back at him, shaking his head slightly. "Alright, alright. That's nice."

Hunk looked between them. He'd had a suspicion, of course, about why he was being called here; that felt like something close to confirmation.

Yellow growled softly again. "The choice remains yours, cub. What you have accepted does not lock you into this path."

What I've accepted… Vince looked at his hands and took a deep breath. He'd accepted more than one thing out there. "I know, but I think I need to be on this path. They need me and I…" He looked up at Hunk. If speaking to their ghosts had taught him anything—if Hunk's being here for him now told him anything… "I need them too."

The other engineer gave him a huge grin. "Atta boy."

He was grinning too. He couldn't help it. "So I say yes."

The lion chuckled softly. "Well, Earthwarder has made it clear where he stands on this matter, even if he currently cannot stand at all. Come to me, cub."

Vince swallowed, nodding and walking towards the lion. It was still scary, and every step seemed to get more overwhelming. But he did need to do this. No more hiding. As he approached, the lion growled and slid one paw forward, and he rested a hand on the metal.

—The earth trembled, and he could feel the tremors shooting off into the distance, tearing the ground apart but at the same time pulling it together, and the stones in the desert above were shining, reflecting with an energy from the stars, he could feel the light and the solid grounding of the rocks and the sand and the earthquake seemed to take over everything—

Pulling his hand back, Vince breathed in the warm air of the den and felt a slight shiver run down his spine. In the wake of the overwhelming energies he felt… centered, in a way he hadn't even been able to imagine.

"You are Stonespark," Yellow purred. "Paladin of Wisdom, Sentinel of Earth. No longer buried… no longer hidden."

Stonespark. Vince could hear Jace's voice calling him Sparky in his mind, and grinned a little. "I like it."

Hunk had attempted to stand and walk over; Baldy Two was trying to support him, though it turned out vultures didn't make very good crutches. They'd gotten some practice helping him to the shuttle, but it was still a little iffy. Either way, he'd felt a fierce tremor that didn't actually throw him off his feet. It felt different than any of the others bonding… was it because this was his Sentinel?

Or was it because this was the last one?

Yellow didn't answer that, not that he'd really asked directly. But the lion did give a short, agitated growl. "I would like to advise you both, Earthwarder especially, to return to your den and rest. But… I think it would be wisest if you remain here."

The two of them exchanged looks, both understanding the warning. "Totes nice here. I'm cool with stayin' here." Hunk did not expect to actually stay here for very much longer.

"It is nice here," Vince agreed, finding a rock to sit on. No, they wouldn't be here long, no doubt. But wherever they went next, there would be no going back.

And to his own surprise, as his eyes glowed briefly yellow, he felt pretty okay with that.

*****

The presence of a lurking undead monstrosity had made the militia far more cautious, and Captain Sarial wasn't willing to take her people off high alert without confirmation the jaivur was gone. Ironically, the increased caution meant more people out and about; covering the same area with more stealth and deliberation took greater numbers. If the Golden Gods—or perhaps the Great Lions?—were feeling favorable, those extra patrols should still result in less danger.

Though she'd never been much good with a bow, Jeiro Akalla was one of the militia's best at keeping herself hidden. That meant she found herself in the mountains more often than not, where the terrain was harsh and the cover scarce. It was a low-risk patrol, in truth; few reasons for anything hostile to move through here. But anything that did happen to pass through would be especially dangerous.

She felt it first, as the faintest twinge through her cheeks. An instinct. Arusians were sensitive to magic, and even those not trained to use it could see it better than most. As her head snapped up, a flare of pink-purple light split the sky for a moment. It hadn't seemed that bright, but it stung her eyes like poison, and she raced for the safety of the nearest outcropping even as her vision blurred.

Dropping to the ground behind the rocks, she pulled out her commset. "Mountain patrol reporting. Something's wrong. Information to follow."

A slight click and a crackle of static was the only answer; information to follow meant they should keep the channel clear. Shaking off the afterimages, Jeiro poked her head cautiously around her cover.

Though she hadn't fully recovered, what she could see was unmistakable. A part of the mountain was moving—no. Something was moving, something huge, bristling with spikes and swirling with the same energy that had nearly blinded her.

Quickly, she looked away again. There was nothing more she needed to see to sound the alarm.

"Robeast inbound!"