The Forgotten Paladin

Chapter 39: Conflictions

A familiar feeling seeps through me like iron, through my veins, hot and burning me from the inside. My blade grows, just like when I was fighting Honerva. Glowing a blinding white, then settling back into it's neutral, blue and silver, just larger. The alchemic symbols running down the blade, beaming a bright purple, the edges red and burning. Just like the feeling in my veins. 

A comforting silence falls on the castle, descending on my overwhelmed mind, memories of the last few weeks drowning in the peace that I feel. For the first time, I feel calm, no strong emotions flooding my own, no visions clouding reality, just peace. Despite everything I've lost, I've gained a lot. A family, who are in a diplomatic meeting right now. I wonder how that's going. I decided not to join in, the meeting is about the paladins of Voltron, and I don't exactly classify as a paladin. Instead I'm trying to figure out more about myself, these visions, powers and this blade. It seems whenever I search for an answer, it becomes further away, but when I don't want to find it, it's apparently obvious and overwhelming. It's very irritating. If only I knew more, or had someone to tell me. I just have to rely on my... unreliable and untimely visions. 

I have tried to gain control over my visions, but i haven't succeeded, I've tried thinking of the ones I've seen before, but I can't seem to summon a vision. Even if I've seen it before. And my powers are still out of my control, I can do things on my own to an extent but my emotions get the better of me. Which is why I've been keeping control over my emotions, so I don't hurt anybody, that's one thing I can control. Sort of. 

 I walk to the bridge, placing my sword in it's sheath, and slumping back into Keith's chair. 

Their meeting sure is taking a while. I wonder what they're talking about. 

An overwhelming feeling of dread and doom curl up in my heart, circling around the peace I fought so hard to keep in myself. A vision. It crept up out of nowhere. Grasping my mind, and controlling what I saw and heard. An arena. Once I knew very well. Or I used to. It's the one I used to be forced to compete blindly in. Some small competitor was giving a good beating to the monster that was intended to kill him. I can't see who it is. Why am I being shown this?

The monster falls. Loud and crashing, shaking the arena to silence. Cheers erupt through the crowds of evil smiles, watching other beings suffer for their infantile enjoyment. The victor stands proud, holding his blade firmly in the air. He slowly takes off his helmet, revealing his long, white hair, drifting in the subtle breeze. 

 I stand, looking at the once familiar face. The one I dreaded so deeply, haunting my waking and sleeping thoughts and dreams. Lotor. His deceptive grin controlling the crowds, drawn into his façade.

LOTOR: "My father built our empire on the bones of his enemies. But the time has come to change the old ways and inspire not fear from those we rule but loyalty. We must not waste our energy fighting to keep our subject down but rather multiply by allowing the worthy to rise and join our ranks." His voice is like leather in my head, pulling me away from the good things, reminding me of the dark, cold cell I was trapped in. 

He offers Throk his hand, who reluctantly takes it, lifting from the ground. 

LOTOR: "The universe can no longer doubt our strength. Each ally gained only makes us stronger. While those who continue to stand against us... will be crushed." When he utters those threatening, cold words, it's like he's looking directly at me. But that's impossible... I'm not really here...

THROK: "Lotor, we pledge our loyalty to you, Vrepit sa."

No... No... He's the new emperor? This can't be happening, he's too dangerous, and without Voltron... we have no hope anymore.