The ornaments rattled on his wrists as the palanquin trudged towards the mountain top, deathly silence as if it was a funeral.
And in a way, he guessed it was.
Staring down at his fingers filled with different sizes rings, the boy wondered how his life had gotten to this point. This year's harvest had failed miserably, leaving the entire kingdom starving and dying as the winter approaches, and the ambassador sent to seek the oracle on the other side of the mountain had declared the god wanted a sacrifice.
And not just any sacrifice, he wanted a warrior.
Lilac eyes glancing through his veil, the boy took one last look at the land he grew up. He had long been an orphan, so it made sense that the king would choose him, over the rest of the warriors who had families and wives and children. He would've volunteered anyways.
The god of the lions…
Nobody had ever seen him and made it out alive.
He couldn't help the ugly slither of fear that settled into the pit of his stomach. Scowling at the feeling, he clenched his hands into fists. He was a warrior, one of their best, and now he was being dressed up like a virgin sacrifice. Dear gods.
"Keith," one of the palanquin bearer whispered to him; an old friend of his. "I—I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he sighed. "It's not your fault, and you know I wouldn't have let you go anyway."
The man hung his head down and continued moving forward. Keith was so young, barely eighteen years old.
Such a pity.
Keith gritted his teeth. He didn't need pity. If this was what it takes to get his kingdom back to prosperity, before the Galra Empire could take advantage of this misfortune and invade, enslaving his people, then he would do it in a heartbeat. He was dead set on his mission; to do whatever it takes before it's too late.
Even if it means selling himself to a god.
"We can only take you this far," the priestess who led the way said, clasping her hands around his. "May the blue lion bless you."
Keith bowed and kissed her palms, a farewell. They left him alone with the delicate palanquin in the cave, the sanctuary. His friend gave him one last longing look before leaving, his feet dragging in the first snowflakes of an upcoming winter.
Silence made the air stagnant, like a never ending pause. It was thick with tension despite the fact that he was the only living thing here. Keith stared at the fire dancing in the hearth, casting shadows on the caves, and all the offerings piled around him.
This…exceptionally revealing tunic was starting to feel uncomfortable, and the crystal circlet on his head was tugging on his hair. All the jewelry they adorned him with jingled in his ears, creating some kind of buzz as the wind chimes they hung inside the cave pierced the veil of complete silence.
All of a sudden, the fire was blown out before turning blue, burning even brighter and making his eyes water. Keith jumped and blinked at the sight, unsure if it was a hallucination or proof of divinity.
The shadows danced and little balls of blue flame lined up from thin air, creating a path that leads further into the cave. He narrowed his eyes, picking up a ceremony knife from the altar, something that he wasn't supposed to have. But hell if he was going to walk in without any way to defend himself if needed.
The path seemed to stretch on forever as he hesitantly continued forward, always guarded. The amount of noise those things on his body made was not helping his intentions to be stealthy. Keith furrowed his brows as there seemed to be a dead end in front of him, the fire hovering, lighting up the open room of the cave.
"Do you happen to be…Keith?" A voice said, and he immediately dropped into a defensive stance.
"Who's speaking?" He demanded.
"Follow me."
The stones from the end of the cave glowed a bright blue before rearranging themselves to form a gateway that rippled like it would lead to another world. Keith hesitantly slipped through, eyes narrowing to adjust to the blinding light from the torches on the other side, burning in complete darkness.
"Is anyone there?" He called out, lowering his weapon despite himself. The flames floated towards him and he felt a shiver down his spine, a calling that told him to follow. He did, once again, and was greeted at the end with a figure of a man who looked older than he thought, who radiated an aura of warmth, with a bright orange moustache that went with the shades of his hair.
"Greetings, youngling," the man said with a smile, "I assume you are the newest tribute?"
Keith gritted his teeth. He disliked that word, but he guessed it was better than sacrifice. "Yes," he replied curtly, knife still clutched tightly at his side.
"I am Coran," he introduced himself, eyeing the weapon with disapproval, but the smile remained on his face. "And welcome to the Temple of Lions."
At his words, the rest of the torches on the walls lit up, revealing a stunning palace made of shiny, indestructible metal with intricate designs etched onto the surface. Every line glowed a soft blue, and Keith couldn't help but let his mouth fall open just the tiniest bit in awe.
"Are—Are those lights…"
"Magic?" Coran laughed good heartedly, gesturing for Keith to follow him. "In a way, they are."
The man led Keith through winding hallways that seemed like a maze, stopping before a door that opened into something resembling a closet. "We must make you more presentable before we meet the gods; don't want to make a bad impression now, do we?"
And without another word, he went to work.
Keith stared at himself, five minutes later, dressed in a bright red silk gown. "How is this presentable?" he fumed, face red from embarrassment. "This is clothing for a woman, and I am a warrior! This is humiliating!"
Coran waggled his finger in front of the young man's face. "It's called fashion, youngling. This is the most favorable trend all over Asia now!"
"Asia?" he furrowed his brows. "What's Asia?"
"Oh, you mortals are adorable," Coran laughed at him as if talking to a puppy, "I'm sure Lady Green would have a blast teaching you."
And with that, they went silent as the minor god did his job and prepared Keith to have an audience with the rest of the deities.
They walked and walked, until gigantic doors etched with what Keith had come to know as the Insignia of the Lions appeared, and Coran gave him one last look and a good luck before the doors opened.
The throne room appeared before them in all of its glory, with four gods seated in front of him. They seemed fresh out of an argument of some sort, and Keith swallowed; these were gods, divine beings that his people worship, and here he was, facing four of them with his own two eyes, and hopefully not still enraged.
The first, and the one that stood out the most, was the god on the black marble throne. He radiated an aura of authority, with his neatly trimmed black hair and a tuft of white draping down to cover his face. A scar stretched across his nose, somehow giving him an even more mythical appearance. But the most striking and terrifying feature were his eyes, a thunderstorm threatening to break, full of anger and a power beyond anything Keith could ever imagine. Yet, the clouds cleared as soon as those eyes set on him, and he felt a warmth washing over him, sunlight gently warming him up and away from that sudden unease. Keith forced himself to tear his eyes away from the god, fearing for his sanity.
Immediately on the god's left was a throne of wood and vines, with a beautiful goddess perched on top. She looked young, way younger than Keith was, with her soft brown hair cut short, ending by her shoulders, hands folded on her green robes. Her eyes however were nothing but analytical as she stared at him, gaze sweeping through as if assessing him. He tried to look away but found himself drawn into her curious eyes, with irises that change colors every time she blinks. Emerald, mint, lime, before she noticed that he was staring and settled for a chilling shade of sage.
Next to the goddess was another throne made of smooth sandstone that belonged to the massive god in yellow seated on it. He was bulky, with a large form that should be intimidating, but the aura he gave off was gentle. The man gave Keith a sheepish smile, his eyes gleaming with specks of bright colors on brown, like gemstones underneath the earth. If he was gonna play favorites, Keith has to say the yellow god has his vote.
But the gaze that made him shiver the most must've been that of the blue god as his eyes narrowed at the human. His fingers gripped the side of the glowing crystal throne he sat upon, body tense as he watched Coran and Keith walking into the room. Keith briefly wondered what was the reason behind that reaction before deciding that poking his nose into godly business would probably be the worst thing to do right now. He risked a peek at the god, and those eyes froze him right on the spot.
"My lords and my lady, the gods of the Lions, may I present to you," Coran turned over to Keith before he could trip over himself and motioned for him to bow. "The newest tribute from the Altean Kingdom."
"You may stand," the god in black said. "Tell me, youngling, what is your name?"
"Keith." He replied, holding his head high after being given permission to stand. Coran glanced at him nervously and he stuttered. "My lord."
The god looked pleased despite the hiccup, "Good. Do you know why you're here, Keith?"
"To do whatever bidding the gods demand, my lord. To serve you all is my honor." He bowed his head obediently, remembering all those customs and rules that the temples have preached to the entire kingdom since the dawn of their civilization.
The blue god groaned. "Great, another one of those? We don't need servants, didn't you all insist on this to look for a replacement for—"
"La—Blue, that is enough." The god of the Black Lion chided and the latter rolled his eyes. "We do not talk about those issues in the presence of mortals."
…Issues? What issues?
But before Keith could even think to ask, the yellow god spoke up. "So who's taking the mortal?" He asked, fiddling with the sleeve of his robes. "Can we just get this over with?"
"I agree with him," the green goddess said, and waved her hand dismissively. "Let Blue handle it."
"What." was all the blue god said, his face stone cold, but his eyes were even icier. Keith shivered, looking at those irises that resembled a frozen lake in the dead of winter.
"Red was your wife after all; it makes sense for you to take this mortal."
Blue didn't answer, and he merely turned his head away, refusing to even spare Keith another glance.
The other gods exchanged a look and finally Black nodded. "Very well then. I am counting on you."
He clapped twice and thunder shook the throne room. Keith yelped in surprise as two bracelets appeared on his wrists, glowing a soft blue. They looked like highly priced jewelry, with intricate patterns edged into the rock, something the nobles would kill for. At the same time, it's like nothing he had ever seen before; even rare illuminating stones don't gleam this bright. But Keith, having been captured numerous times, knew exactly what those are. Shackles, used to restrain his freedom and show who he belongs to now.
His people always says it's an honor to be a servant for the gods, but there was nothing honorable about this.
He was nothing more than a slave.
hi :)) i'm writing again, after half a year, for the voltron fandom 3 the last season killed me, but now i feel like it's safe enough to build my own worlds without the looming threat of canon (im gonna promptly ignore s8 anyway oOPS) but yeah, i've kinda found my passion in writing again, and this should be fun :D