Chapter 10 – Exhume

Keith was more than capable of patience. He had taken his time, living in a shack in the middle of nowhere after leaving the Garrison. He had gone along with their misfit team through a wormhole that led to god knew where, and accepted the fate of the paladin that Allura had dealt him. He spent hours on the training deck, preparing himself for the endless battles that were surely lined up for the future. He knew how to take his time, to wait for the enemy's move before crushing them swiftly and without suspicion.

He was also losing his damn mind waiting for answers from Almira.

To be fair, their group had been swept along from one event to another, the morning and early afternoon already beginning to blur. While Pidge and Shiro had wanted to hack away at the battle simulators and the Fleogan warriors, probably asking a hundred questions and finding a thousand answers, he was fairly mentally fried. Patience was not a virtue that was on his side, and he just wanted some damn answers and maybe a respite to focus his mind.

Which brought him back to the current situation. The group of four had been sitting cross legged on the floor in one of their rooms in the royal suites, Lance and Hunk more than happily chowing down on a lunch of various meats and vegetables that came in a multitude of brightly painted bowls that easily fit into one's hands, spread across a long, low seated table. Almira was looking on in vague interest and amusement at the messy eaters, who had begun to make a game out of tossing small nuts into one another's mouths. He exhaled irritably, arms crossed as his eye twitched at the slow mess that was beginning to accumulate on the ground around them.

At his sigh, Almira's eye locked onto his features, making him stiffen slightly. Eyes narrowing and relaxing in realization, she moved to snatch two round, orange, fruits from a wide dish on the table. Uncrossing her legs and slowly standing up, stretching like a cat with stiff limbs from lounging for too long, she tempted a generic smile toward the blue and yellow paladins. "If it's alright with you, I'm off to get some fresh air. Those meeting rooms can get stuffy." A hand wave and nod was given, neither paladin pausing in their rapid consumption of the food before them, and Almira turned toward the door, tilting her head in its direction while looking at Keith, inviting him to follow. The two strolled off through the doors and into the surrounding gardens of the royal compound.

.

The group had been given a massive condominium of a sort, the building wrought into the trunk of a massive tree. In fact, all the houses of the royal complex were built into the magnificent trunks, creating vast swaths of space between them. Lush gardens had been established, brilliant flowers lining winding paths that linked the area. The indolent air brushed sleepy sunshine that filtered into the area, lending a relaxing atmosphere to the entire area. It was a dreamscape, an artist's reverie, as the hush enveloped the two figures that stalked the open air.

Keith barely registered the toss of the orange in his direction before he reached an arm above him to intercept the throw, grunting at the abruptness. He heard a chuckle in front of him; although he couldn't see his guide's face he could imagine the amusement hanging on peach lips. He copied her motions and brought the fruit to his mouth, surprised at the unexpected taste of a pear that settled on his taste buds, the delicate crisp of the skin cracking under his teeth. It was almost fascinating how similar Fleogas was to earth in comparison with some of the alien planets that they had visited, and if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost imagine a pear in his very hands, not just the taste but also the slender lines of the green fruit.

"You have questions." It was an obvious statement coming from her mouth, but he suddenly felt unsure about what exactly he wanted to ask. The surreal nature of the moment, the afternoon's siesta of sunlight that dreamily drifted across his muffled senses, filled his mind with quiet where there had just been a surge of anticipation and irritability. He looked down at the fruit in his hands blankly.

"I feel like I know you, but then you're suddenly so unpredictable."

Silver braid swung in the air as she tossed an inquisitive, yet knowing glance over her shoulder. "No one ever truly knows who someone is. We only see snippets and aspects that allow us to construct an ideal, or a shadow."

Keith snorted. "You and Arden like to talk cryptically. All of you do."

The two approached a smaller building in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere. It was a freestanding building, probably as large as the throne room, blending in perfectly with its surroundings. Truth be told, it was almost so unnoticeable that Keith didn't realize where they were headed until they came within a reasonably close distance to its doors. The façade lacked décor and the fancy aesthetics that almost every other building had, giving it a cast off look and making him wonder why they were standing in front of it. Almira put her hands on one of the brass knobs and paused for a moment, considering his words. "Everyone has their secrets. Most of us tend to keep them that way."

Pulling the door open, she motioned for Keith to enter the dimly lit space. There were thin walkways that formed orderly lines, and he soon realized that the entire space was lined and organized around paintings and pictures. Some were as large as a sheet of paper, while others towered above their figures, inspiring awe and portraying life like characters on the canvas. Almira took the lead again down a pathway to the right, taking her time passing through as her guest marveled at the interior. "What is this?"

"A storage barn, so to speak. All the old paintings that hang in the castle hallways get moved here."

"So why are we here?"

They passed by a particularly large painting, which Almira cast a longing look upon as they walked past. "Perhaps for selfish reasons. Maybe there isn't much of a point to us being here except my own desire." There were three winged people portrayed, a woman standing in the center and flanked by two men who held their ground in triumphant poses. The woman had her attention toward the sky, cerulean eyes captivated by something beyond their reach as slender hands reached out mercifully. Keith paused at the portrait slightly, speeding his pace to match Almira after staring at the image for a few moments longer.

The two came upon a sliding door along a wall, which Almira pushed along with practiced ease, apparently deeply familiar with the gesture. They entered another room; paintings stacked closely one behind another, attached to some sort of system in the wall that allowed them to be pulled out of the stack with ease. Hands fell upon a specific painting with ease, the worn corner of the frame singing of hands that often caressed its edge as Almira pulled the portrait into view. Eyes softened at the image, refusing to leave the contents of the picture.

It was of an elegant woman, adorned with flowing white garments that appeared to drift in a breeze, gossamer stole lifting off the shoulders and carrying in the space around her. Everything was white, the dress, the moon in the background, her hair; everything except perhaps for the tanned skin and delicate magnolias that were printed on the top layer of the gown. Her eyes were hidden under lids that falsified a dreaming slumber, but pale lips quirking at the corners betrayed a more playful muse. The woman captured in the image was a carbon copy of Almira, except perhaps for the sharp lines and taut frame of Almira that screamed of a rigid training and militant carriage. This woman was much more soft, delicate, almost as though she herself was a dandelion drifting through as the wind dictated.

"After my mother vanished, all portraits were removed from the halls." Her voice was soft and almost muttered, as though worried that she would disturb the woman in the portrait and find soft lid flinging open in distress at any sudden provocation. "Arden brought me back here one day. He told me to never forget her, that if I did, then surely the memory of her would fade forever."

Keith spared a glance for his companion, her hand still resting on the frame as she looked up into the sleeping face. "My parents left me. I know how you feel."

Finally breaking her musing stare, the captain looked away with a sigh. "I just wish I knew why, or what happened. I was left alone, you know. If it wasn't for Arden and Queen Isolda, I don't –" Her voice broke off, and she stepped away from the picture, standing next to Keith while clearing her throat. "Lavena especially.

"Arden didn't want me telling you anything, any of this." Looking into grey eyes, her expression turned stoic, dropping from any dreamlike state to the gravity of a weight in the sea. "He doesn't trust you all as much as I do."

The red paladin had no answer for the last admission. In Arden's defense, he was right to be wary of the paladins, as outsiders of the planet. While they had been friendly with one another, perhaps it was right of the General to extend his best wishes only so far, instead of what Almira seemed to be doing. Eyebrows furrowed at the thought, the confusions of the conflicting ideas and actions of the two siblings. "So then why go against his wishes? Why tell me?"

Lightning met hurricane silver, and at once it was like the storm sizzling out of power, the thunder losing its rumble and aggression from miles away from the coast. The horizon had cleared, and while the silver of the storm still lingered on the edges and cast charcoal gloom on the mute waves, there was translucent understanding and clarity that accompanied the smell of the forest after rain. For a moment, the calm was like a window into the soul, the lie detector that never failed when the open truth burst from the sills and blew curtains into a righteous flurry. Eye lids fluttered, but refusing to close, suspending the moment through centuries. Her voice was the oar sliding across the surface of the mirror, breaking yet bending the image to her will. "You make me feel safe."

Then she rolled her shoulders back and the close knit girdle of the warriors was donned once again, breaking the spell and permitting the moment to flutter away on gilded wings, rare and almost unbelievable save for those who witness it. She was still relaxed, but it was no longer the complete honesty that burbled over her stitches, restrained just barely. She continued her statement flawlessly. "When I needed someone to listen, to honestly listen, Lavena was there. She wasn't a warrior, but she listened as though she knew everything there was to know. She was my elder, but she respected me." Her eyes turned back to Keith, slightly more muted this time. "You remind me of her."

The admission was unpredicted and sudden, but Keith couldn't help but feel honored at Almira's abrupt honesty. He nodded in acceptance of the honest likening, most likely a compliment, an open and encouraging look coming across his face. She continued, and at this point Keith was content to listen and wait for anything that she was to admit.

"My mother was the fourth queen of my father. In our culture, the number four is, well," she wrinkled her nose, eye twitching irritably, "superstitious. It's a sign of misfortune and the east wind. It never helped that she was a commoner from a lesser crater, so it was predicted that the marriage would fail splendidly."

"Did it?"

Almira tilted her head. "Perhaps not. I was, after all, born in any case." Keith flushed slightly at the insinuation, while Almira placed a hand back on the portrait, stowing it away into its place along the wall, hidden from sight. She paced a few steps forward, hand sliding over the various frames and resting along another simple frame. The scene this time included multiple people, including Almira in infant form, cradled in her father's arms. King and queen looked to another robed, hooded, figure, features hidden from sight. Frowning, the pushed the portrait back into its place, selecting the next available. "Most nobles consider my mother's presence a blemish on the history of our people. People were suspicious about her sudden appearance and disappearance, and even more so of her appearance. Some regarded her as a dark witch, come to steal the throne."

The next image had the same woman from before and what Keith assumed was Almira as a young toddler. The small child sat in the lap of the older woman, both staring into each other's eyes with smiles on their faces. This time, the eyes of the woman were open, revealing dirty amethyst flecked with yellow. Even from the portrait, they were haunting to look upon, unearthly even for a Fleogan with their multitude of eye and hair colors, and he could understand why the nobles had been disturbed by her unearthly features. "Arden and I had been fighting earlier. When I disagreed with him, he reminded me of my unfavorable position as daughter of the fourth queen."

Keith balked at the statement, attempting the process the idea that Arden would be so unfavorable to his sister whom he had shown nothing but high regard for during their time together. It was almost impossible to relate Arden's carefree, easy-going nature with something so violent and murderous toward the radiant, gentle, creature in front of him. "Why would he do that?"

A sigh escaped her lips as she stared at the portrait, absorbed in every detail, and it was unclear if the sigh was directed toward Arden's attitude or fondness of the picture. "Our tempers can be quite fiery when provoked. Even as we grow older, we hold onto some of our tendencies from our younger days. I think that Arden was unable to counter my argument, so he called me out on the one thing he knew." Eyes narrowed dangerously. "The one thing that I hold close to my heart."

He had no words to speak, simply taking in her words and processing them carefully. Reminded of the orange pear still in his hand, he continued to take another bite out of it, crossing his arms as he organized his thoughts. So he finally found out that Arden and Almira had fought over something, and that it had ended in Arden's jab at Almira's background, obvious grounds which were untouchable even among siblings. Even more so, Almira had relayed her absolute trust of Keith, likening it to someone named Lavena. Who was Lavena? What exactly had Arden and she disagreed upon that would end in such a catastrophic war of words? Why exactly were they in this place, which obviously barred outsiders?

It was like being tossed back to the beginning again; the more answers he found, the more questions appeared. He had entered this space with one question and had ended up with three or more now, and it was making his head spin. The closer he got to understanding Almira, the further he seemed to unintentionally stray, leaving her as enigmatic as ever. But he had to understand the preface she had given him at the beginning of their conversation, before they had delved into the abandoned portrait storage.

No one ever truly knows who someone is. We only see snippets and aspects that allow us to construct an ideal, or a shadow.

But all the same, Keith refused to see that he was only seeing a shadow of who she was; she was too radiant for that. If anything, it seemed as though he was staring at the sun, going all the more blind while he sought knowledge and learned about her existence. If anyone asked if his quest for knowledge was worth the blindness, he was unable to tell yet. Was he willing to continue? Absolutely.

"Why are we here? There has to be more than you just answering my question and showing me pictures of your past beyond trust."

Her smile was subdued, but all the same it had an edge that gloated over some victory of knowledge that was unidentifiable by Keith. Warmth and darkness fought in her eyes, a swirling battle of contradictions as she looked over the picture, her eyes never straying to look at anything else. "Like I said, for selfish reasons, perhaps. When I was young, the nobles would often remind me of my short fallings on part of my mother's disappearance. I was so distraught one day that Arden brought me here and showed me the old paintings that had been removed from the castle. He told me that whenever I doubted myself, or whenever I felt lost or betrayed by my mother, to come here and remind myself of the parts of her that I knew, that the nobles never had the chance to see. They saw her only as a phantom queen, their hatred clouding their judgment. I knew her as a mother, who had a heart as soft as her voice whenever I had nightmares, who would know how to soothe my spirit." She raised a hand, as though to reach out toward the image, but froze in mid air, reminded of the structure and removing the thought from her mind, instead clasping her hands behind her back.

So their trip had been for selfish reasons, although Keith couldn't bring himself to be irritated or in any way find malicious, discontented feelings for their trip. It had been insightful for him, and it had been important for Almira to center herself, to remind herself that her existence was validated beyond the enormous space left by her mother, the fourth queen. Even now he could see the stress and tension leaving her body slowly, poisonous insinuations oozing out of her frame and leaving all the confidence that he had known her to own with tenacity. He continued to ask his questions. "And Lavena?" Her head flew in his direction and he flinched under the unexpected look he received, golden eyes searching his face in wonderment and gravity. He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly at the intense look. "You mentioned that I reminded you of her."

At the mention of her comment, her posture loosened up again. "Ah. I forgot that I had mentioned her to you." Rolling her shoulders back, she moved to slide the picture into its position, and Keith had the feeling that she was getting down to business as she moved from disconnected longing to the present moment. Turning to face him, she mirrored his position, crossing her arms. "Lavena was Arden's older sister, my half sister. She was married to Menew, the former General of the Warpers."

An eyebrow rose at the use of the past tense. "Was?"

Almira nodded slowly. "I don't know if you heard, but Arden only attained the position of General a few years ago, after Menew had vanished from a patrol. Arden and I just received a call today from his mother, second Queen Isolda, about an apparent break in at the crater Ti Le Vang last night. Lavena's gone now too."

Brows moved from interest and surprise to narrowed suspicion. His head bowed slightly and eyes narrowed, unsure of what exactly to make of the alarming information that had passed on to him. "That's suspicious."

"Which brings me to the reason Arden and I were fighting. I wanted to tell you and the paladins this information to see if you thought anything suspicious about it. After all," she gestured vaguely in the air, "you also thought it was suspicious that the Galra have left us alone to flourish, so to speak, under their rule. I've also had the same suspicions for years, but even Arden has told me to forget it."

"You think that we could provide insight."

Shoulders shrugged apathetically, although eyes still burned with curiosity and interest. "I thought to ask. Arden thought that we shouldn't bother you with personal, internal, affairs. He tried to pull rank on me. You know where that got us."

Suppressing a shudder when thinking about the meeting earlier that day where Almira had turned stone cold and Arden looked much like a scorned puppy, he could only hope that the captain would never turn on him in a similar manner, sympathy going toward Arden. Processing the information, he considered the doubt they had toward the Galra and the nearly undisturbed lives of the Fleogan people in the craters. Sure, they were forced to live below the surface of the planet, but their lives weren't anywhere near as technologically devoid as other planets, such as the Balmera. Civilians and the military alike benefitted from tech advancements, and the amount of freedom that they had in the craters was unprecedented to anything they had seen from other planets. It was certainly odd to the paladins, and Almira as well.

But there was nowhere near enough information to draw any conclusions about the mysterious disappearances from the planet. He needed more information, more theories. "What did the queen and your brother think about this?"

She nodded in approval of his question. "Information states that the break in was obvious, but there were no signs of struggle. We considered briefly the idea that it was Menew breaking Lavena out, but it doesn't make sense with what we knew of Menew."

"Any ideas on alibis?"

She shook her head, shrugging in defeat. "Menew was never one to skirt around duty. To have him suddenly vanish in the middle of a patrol where there were efforts to rebuild damages from an earlier offensive was completely out of character. As for Lavena," she paused, considering her words carefully, "she was devastated when Menew vanished. But not enough to run away; we also wouldn't know why Menew would suddenly show up after a few years only to escape with Lavena. It just doesn't make sense."

A though suddenly struck through his head, and he puzzled over it briefly. "You said that your mother disappeared as well. Do you think there's any connection to the other two?"

She had obviously not connected the two ideas before as she visibly started, drawing a sharp breath and considering the idea. "I've never considered it." A hand drew to her chin as she became lost in thought, trying to connect any possible dots. "We don't have nearly enough information about the three events, but neither do we have enough information to rule the possibility out. This is distressing news."

"I would want to say that it's the Galra, but there's absolutely no information linking them to the disappearances, let alone even an alibi for kidnappings."

Almira nodded in agreement. "They would need intimate information about travels and habits of each person. There's no way that that's possible."

The duo stood in silence, both contemplating the information before them in the dusty portrait room. Once again, there were more questions in the air than answers, and even Almira was beginning to become irritated with the little progress made. She was thirsty for justice for these two – no, now three – people whom she dearly loved; it had been delayed for far too long, and she was ready to be out for blood, Galra or not.

And yet, she remembered Arden's silent promise from across the room during their meeting. Her lips quirked, more like a twitch, but it was enough to bring back a positive outlook to their situation. "Well, at least we'll have one question answered tomorrow." Keith looked back at her in confusion, tilting his head in a way that was almost adorable. She met his gaze without humor, a deafeningly serious look. "Since Arden and I are infiltrating the northern base, we'll be looking for information on why the Galra have let us live."

"How?" As soon as the question left his lips, he knew without a doubt what their plan was from the lifting of one slender eyebrow in a mocking manner. "Seriously? That's basically suicide!"

Almira began to lead the way out of the smaller room, gesturing for the paladin to follow in suit. "Suicide would imply that we are looking to kill ourselves. I'm just suggesting that we're looking for ways to maximize our time before our enemies find themselves laid to waste on the battlefield."

"The Galra would sooner die than betray their country."

After letting him exit the room, she sealed the small door behind them, looking at him with something akin to exasperation. "There are always cowards to exploit. Don't you trust us?"

He was about to open his mouth in rebuttal, but something glittering in golden eyes made him pause. Whirling in here eyes was humor and wit, but there was also a bit of hurt that held his tongue. For all of her time being a confident, independent, warrior, he sometimes forgot that she was a person underneath the armor she constructed, and she had more than willingly torn it apart during their respite together for him to see the vulnerabilities she guarded ferociously. She had trusted him, and even though her question had been posed to Arden's and her abilities, he saw the underlying query.

I trusted you. Do you trust me?

"Yes."

It was as simple as that. He trusted her capabilities, her experience, and Arden's as well. He would never vocally admit that she was beginning to worm her way through his defenses, with every move stitching together pieces of his trust that was so fragmented and violently guarded. But deep down inside, he was already begrudgingly in the process accepting the fact that she already owned small bits of his trust. There was no explanation for it, aside from the fact that she was so similar to him, betrayed by family and surrounded by people who wanted to eat them alive. She, however, had already begun to find people, although the process was selective, and she had somehow decided that Keith and the paladins were worthy of her mind, her trust.

Perhaps he also admired and looked up to the way that she was growing out of the hate that encompassed her life, striving to reach for a better future and more than willing to admit that she could not do it alone. It was this balance of determination, humbleness, and conceding of weakness that made her unstoppable, and for the life of him, Keith wanted to learn the balance that she had struck. He wanted to trust people, he knew that he did, but there was a fear stopping him almost every time. How had she overcome her obstacles, wizened through her experiences but still searching to learn more?

When she smiled, he felt even another tiny piece being won over to her trust. He refused to admit that he was slowly crumbling, but neither did he mourn the loss. He returned the smile with the crook of his own lips, and she strolled past him, unaware to the silent musings in his head.

"Then trust me when I say that we'll find the answers. They're out there." Her countenance was please, a bounce in her step almost untraceable but more noticeably there compared to other times when she stalked across a space, the smooth steps of a silent predator. She was pleased with the exchange of information; she had relayed the information she wanted, and he had given in return. Although troubling, it was an improvement, and she had to be thankful for everything given.

And then there was the boy that stood behind her. Perhaps not a boy, but not quite the man that she knew he would become some day. There was a quietness that drew her toward him; when she had told him that she had seen Lavena in his visage, she had been speaking the truth, but in complete honesty there was something more under his surface that intrigued her. Perhaps it was the fact that he shared the experience of being a fighter, a warrior, which took his understanding of her situation beyond Lavena's world of courtly topics and webs. Or perhaps it was the way that he took her seriously, not treating her as the goddess that some of the military would worship her as, but an equal, although still daunting and lethal. She tried to convince herself that it mattered not what his opinion of her was, but the feat was impossible. Of course his opinion mattered; she would not have opened herself up as much as she had done.

Perhaps she blamed the fact that she had opened up the most to him because of the trip they had shared in the red lion that fated evening as they glided through the dark tunnels of the water systems. She was friendly with the other paladins, particularly Pidge, who shared her love of technology, but there was a companionship in Keith that had not been established quite yet in the others. She valued his opinions, his presence, and his trust. Hearing that he trusted her had elated her senses, sending her into a giddy mood that seemed impossible to deflate.

Perhaps none of this mattered. She needed to focus on the final offensive the next day, where her skills would need to be at the top of their game. It was the end all, the final battle of the Fleogans against their captors. Yet her elevated mood persisted, for all the doom and gloom that settled on the city. With the paladins by her side, anything was possible. She would have her answers, her revenge, and their trust, should all go well.

There were just two more things to take care of.

It was tradition that, on the eve before a great battle, a ceremony was held to honor and invoke the spirits of the dead, to call upon their wisdom and guidance to lead and correct their mistakes. Almira's opinion of ghosts was undecided, but it never hurt to ask for help, as far as she was concerned. Abandoning her uniform for a more casual outfit that befit her royal status, fiddling with the gold bangles on her arms as she waited for Arden at the cavern where the lions sat, silent guardians that awaited their use the next day. The gentle breeze toyed with waist long locks that had been brushed out from their braid, crimping and waving about her frame. She paced along the opening, gaze flickering between her wearing route and the sharp drop into the crater on her side as her mind mused over what she wanted to say to her elder brother.

Their relationship was far from perfect, but it was what grounded Almira, what had kept her sane all these years. They had spats in the past, of course, but rarely did it ever reach the severity of this morning, the raw emotion of anger coursing through her bones and making her shudder. She had every right to be angry; perhaps on another occasion, she would have ignored him for multiple days. But it was never in her heart to be bitter, to turn stone cold against someone whose soul did not earnestly deserve it, and in the last glowing embers of the fading afternoon it was unbearable to part from her closest family and friend on bitter terms, where they would be rising to the occasion of war the next day.

Another shudder wracked her muscular frame, and she gazed at the wish makers she had picked from the royal gardens, the slender cream petals threatening to fall apart at any moment. It was their personal tradition that, before any major event in their lives, the sibling trio would make a wish upon the wishing flowers, blowing on their petals to scatter to the wind. The act recalled days of childhood where life was simpler, sheltered by their mothers and left to play fighting and romping in the gardens, and Almira hoped that her peace offering would put Arden's mind at ease.

The sun beginning to set, she noticed Arden's frame walking up the path, unhurried but striding with purpose. He had also changed from the black, form-fitted uniform into royal garb of cream pantaloons and tunics, a cape clasped with the royal standard around his neck. Brown hair had also been let down from its ponytail, brushed out as well as possible to ease the cinch where the tie had held it in place for most of the day. In his arms he carried some sort of basket, along with two small candles.

Neither said a word as he approached. Stopping her pacing, she picked up the flowers that she had set down further into the cave, approaching the opening of the cave and sitting down so that her legs hung over the edge. She fingered the slender stems, twirling them in her hands as Arden copied the motions, sitting to her left and setting his items to the other side of them. The two sat with their legs touching each other, silently gazing out at the gigantic crater as the sun began to set on the other side. Beams of light struck their eyes, yet neither seemed to mind as they sat for a few moments, collecting their thoughts as they looked out on their city, their home.

"I'm sorry for my words." Arden was the first to speak, turning to his younger sister and looking her in the eyes, the remorse bleeding honestly. "It was uncalled for."

She shook her head, lifting a hand to smooth her hair behind her shoulder as it shifted around her. "You were angry. I understand."

"That does not justify my actions. I'm sorry."

Appraising his looks, she already knew that he had carried enough grief for his words during the past hours of the day. He had suffered enough for his actions, on top of the cursing glares that she had been hurling at him during the meeting that afternoon. They both knew that they had forgiven each other hours before, as soon as they had separated, but their tempers had been what had kept them apart. Almira chuckled at the thought. "What would I have done if you said that when I was a child?"

A grin spread across his face, mellow and thoughtful in nature as he considered her words. "You definitely would have fought me, hand to hand."

Both chuckled at the thought of her tiny frame flying in a fury at his larger one, the surprise at the energy and speed that she would have brought against his own. They most certainly had fought physically while growing up, something that Queen Isolda despised because of her military training. But it had bonded them still. Arden placed a hand on her shoulder. "I meant every word that I said in our spar today. You've grown so much as a fighter, as a princess. As my sister."

Falling into a comfortable silence, he grabbed the two candles, handing one of them to her. "We'd better hurry before the sun sets." Both summoning their wind powers into their fingertips, they snapped their fingers over the wick, the rubbing winds sparking to generate a tiny flame. It was enough to start the burning of the candle, and they let their hands settle into their lap, one protecting the small flame from the breeze that fluttered through the cave and around the crater.

Almira stared at the gentle flame that flickered and wobbled around the wick, just beginning to eat away at the wax that dripped into a small tin container around the bottom. There was something about fire that soothed her senses, similar to the streams of water that trickled through the royal compounds. But fire was different in its instantaneous impacts; water could carve mountains from nothing, slowly feeding the plants that lapped at its source, whereas fire consumed all in seconds, decimating anything in its path with the playful flicker of reds and blues. She allowed herself to be absorbed into the mesmerizing dance of the flame before her before committing to her task, the private ceremony before her. Closing her eyes briefly, she focused on the candle in her hands, her senses reaching out.

Aisiris Nester, I beckon your spirit. I know it's been a while, but I need you. Help me in this fight. Help me end the reign of the Galra, for you. For the both of us. For all of us. I need you, please.

On opening her eyes she looked at Arden, whose deep golden gaze rested fondly on hers. She nodded, and he looked somewhere between his candle and the city below their feet, the emerald fronds swaying in the wind. "Boreas and Notus of the north and south, Eurus and Zephyrus of the east and west, bid their spirits come rest in us." Her voice joined in with Arden as they took in the sun, ready to set at any moment. "Let their hands join in ours, let their spirits be our guide, let us listen to their mistakes as we right their wrongs, in hopes that we may see our victory."

As they finished speaking, the sun's last rays disappeared on the horizon, the sky unleashing its masterpiece of dusk as the green canvas below completing the rainbow hues that arched across the upper space. Their candles seemed to flicker more strongly now, and Almira it was in moments like these that she tended to lean toward the existence of ghosts, the spirits of the past invoked in the traditional ceremony. Regretfully, she lifted the candle to her lips, blowing the flame out in a puff and watching intently as the wisps of smoke wavered from the waxy stem. Arden had copied her move, setting the candle aside and bringing the basket onto his lap. "I thought you might try to skip the meal tonight, so I brought some things to force you to eat."

Out came a loaf of traditional Fleogan bread that was rich in local nuts and berries, along with a flask of water. Almira smiled contently, setting her candle down to the side and picking up the flowers she had picked. "Before you do, I have a gift." Arden's eyes widened at the flowers, a playful grin on his lips. His hand gingerly took the stem that was extended toward him, fingers gracing the velvet petals as he smelled the delicate fragrance.

"In any other case, I'd think that you were trying to distract me from eating."

Rolling her eyes, she elbowed the prince in the ribs, chuckling at the grunt he emitted from the sharp jab. Copying his motions, she lifted the delicate flower to her nose one last time. "To our victory." A deep breath of air preceded the strong exhale from her chest, blowing the petals into the air and watching them drift away into the chasm below with fond reminiscence. Wish makers were Almira's favorite flower, most likely because of the memories that burbled up from her heart with fond feelings and emotions. It was only right that they have them on the eve before the battle.

Arden breathed in the fragrance one final time. "To Lavena." He blew steadily, exerting just enough pressure as he carefully peeled the petals from their base with his breath. They appeared to chase after the petals of Almira's own, whimsically dancing on the last tendrils of the warmed afternoon air. His attention was quickly turned to the bread and water he had procured, tearing off a bit and handing it to his sister, a warning glance in his eyes. "You had better finish half of this loaf, at the very least. I'm not above hand feeding it down your throat."

Slender hands took the bread gingerly in her fingers as she tore small pieces off, popping them into her mouth and chewing slowly, savoring the taste. She was a trained warrior, a legend among her people, and still she dreaded waking up the next morning, nauseous with dread and anxiety. The thought was almost enough to lock her jaw in fear, but she continued to eat. Arden had been serious with his threat about forcing her to eat, and deep down inside, she knew that it would be her only sustenance until the battle was finished, whenever that would be. It was in her best interest to eat the night before so that she could process as much as possible before the morning, where her stomach would attempt to visit her mouth and the outside world. She could feel his eyes watching her carefully as he chewed his own portion.

Swallowing another piece, she looked at the bread in her hands. "So this is it." Arden looked at her, a question on his face, although Almira had the feeling that he knew exactly what she was talking about. Looking out to the hidden city below, she could almost feel the feasting beginning among the various cadets and military personnel. "If we get it right, it's over. The Galra. The beginning of a new chapter."

Arden took a swig of water, contemplating her words before swallowing and answering. "But it'll be far from over." Confused, she looked at his face as their eyes met. "The Galra Empire is massive. Voltron won't be able to fight it alone."

If she said that the thought of the future hadn't crossed her mind, she would have been lying. It was fair enough, however, to say that she had been shoving all thoughts to the back of her head until their war was over. There was no point in worrying over the future that relied on another move, but now that Arden had brought the idea up, there was no running. "They won't have to. It might take time, but we'd figure out how to get up there."

Their gazes turned toward the sky. "Space," Arden breathed, taking in the hues of lilac and other pastels. "We're a people of the sky, and yet space is the one place that we haven't been in the past ten thousand years."

Almira snorted, gesturing for him to pass the water as she took a deep swig, washing the bread down her throat. "We haven't even had control over the surface of the planet. Let's start there first before we leave the ground."

"Say, what do you think it's like inside Old Altaira?"

"No idea. Dusty, probably."

"Smart ass."

"Just realistic. Keep dreaming, ass."

"You can't just throw my insult back at me like that!"

"Ass is my insult. But I guess I could call you dumb ass if you insist."

Playful glares were quick to disintegrate into laughter, the tension and formality dissolving with the armistice of giggling voices. Almira tossed her head back, moonlight strands dancing around her face as she brushed them out of her way, tucking them behind an ear and tossing them over her shoulder again. Arden looked on fondly, smile still spread across his lips at her ease.

She braced her hands on either side of her, leaning forward slightly as a serene smile graced and complimented shining yellow eyes. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow we find answers."

Her brother said nothing, instead choosing to tear off another chunk of bread and handing it to his half sister. She rolled her eyes but accepted the piece, picking at it again into smaller pieces before popping them into her mouth. Taking advantage of her silence, Arden got down to business. "I'm thinking that the two of us should split up once we get inside the northern base." Their demeanor grew serious, the vision of the two siblings morphing into two of the fiercest fighters that Fleogas had to offer. "I'll take a team to the communications tower through the weapons hangars. You'll need to take another through the barracks and other buildings."

Nodding, she swallowed her piece of bread, hand poised to chomp down on another. "I flush out anyone who might be hiding, or whatever other secrets they have in the background. You get the big guys."

Arden smiled cheekily. "That's certainly one way of putting it. But yes; if you find any offices or such, search them out. They could have answers. Data files, whatever you can get your hands on."

"We'll be on a time crunch."

"Promise me something."

About to protest, she saw his eyes glimmer with something more serious. Was it fear that she saw, glazing the surface and penetrating her soul? She mutely nodded in affirmation, waiting for what he had to say.

"Whatever happens, you're more important. If it comes between answers and your life, I'd pick you, any time. I don't want another Lavena."

She shook her head weakly. "Arden, Lavena could still be alive. We don't know," she trailed off, unwilling to finish her own statement. Of course it had crossed her mind that Lavena could be dead somewhere, but she had to hope that her sister, their sister, was alive. There had been enough loss, and instead she sighed, giving a nod and staring at her hands in her lap. "I promise." She was reminded of Lavena's final promise, the memory filling her body with hesitance to make another promise that had the potential to be broken. This, however, was her life, and if it took a thousand oaths to reassure Arden's mind, she would see it done.

Choking up, she felt tears coming to her eyes as she looked at her brother, her world. "I love you. You know that, right?"

His arm pulled her in tighter to his frame, the safety of the wings that had always pushed to keep her safe from whatever he could. The sky had transformed into an intense display of primary hues, crimson and purples streaking the evening canvas. Just above the breeze, his voice floated quietly into her ears as she relaxed. "Just as much as I love you. We'll make it through this. We always have."

The duo sat quietly along the mouth of the cave for a while longer, content to watch the sky fade away into dusk, the last traces of the breath of day lingering for just a moment longer before melting into dreamless black. By the time the stars made their glittery appearance among the cosmos of the deep beyond, the duo had made their way back to the palace, leaving the silent vigil of the lions and back into something more familiar, one final time. Nothing was ever to be the same, and Almira knew that she would treasure that evening for a lifetime to come, sitting side by side with her mentor, protector, brother, and friend as the final day came to an end. The glittering sunset in the distance and in golden orbs next to her was a treasure moment, worth more than all the riches stored away in her closets, the adornments of a royal life once rejected, twice accepted.

With the night came the unsettled darkness, the anticipation of a bloody dawn and the drawing of guns. Sleep was difficult to come by, but those who did find it tenaciously gripped at the fringes until the quiet rally of the morning, where lines would be drawn and final goodbyes would be spoken. Almira slept as much as she could, haunted by dreams of offensives from time immemorial, violent whirlwinds and the tearing of gunshots through tempered metal, and gunmetal eyes that stared into her soul.

AN: I thought that I would have time during my Thanksgiving break to write. I could not have been more wrong; my professors have decided that Thanksgiving break is a great time for take home tests and homework, and my mom has been asking for help with cooking. I don't mind any of it at all, but I've really wanted to give you all more content. Honestly, I never thought that I would get more than twenty views, but here we are. Thank you so, so, so, much again.

So here we are! This honestly turned out to be a massive chapter, and I hope that I can write more like this in the future. I try to make sure that each chapter from here on out has around 4,000 words or so, just because I know it's nice to get a lot of content (or, at least, I enjoy reading chunky chapters). But honestly, this one ended up being a monster... but here we are. At least it's a content packed monster... ?

Please leave a comment/ review if you would like to see more, and I will do my best to oblige!