Lotor grappled with the growling monster before throwing the beast over the cliff. The churning storm now barely visible to his right was moving quickly. He dared let out another call for the princess. "Allura!"
He groaned. The wisps had disappeared after he had entered the mountain pass. They had abandoned him at a fork in the road.
His groan turned into a snarl as his fists balled at the memory. Fool. They led you here to die.
If I die at least I will die with her. He retorted.
You are blind. These beasts are Altean. They are tormented souls akin to the ones of your making.
Lotor shook his head violently. He refused to believe it. This place was some parallel realm or place of power where one's mind created all demons met.
Lotor shook his head violently. He refused to believe it. This place was some parallel realm or place of power where one's mind created all demons met.
Then you should be terrified.
A trembled rocked his body and Lotor forced his mind to focus, warding off the panic that threatened on the edge of conscious control.
He opened his mouth to answer himself out loud when a distant whisper tickled his ear.
"Did you hear that?" The prince asked rhetorically before cursing when it to came to him again.
It travelled over the dead hills like words spoken in a crowd, directed to him but falling on deaf ears. A familiar rage was washing over him. His stumbling feet slowed as a heavy presence crept steadily over him, bathing him in ice.
Part of him wavered, wishing to turn back and preserve himself. He was no where close to being ready for this. He held no true power over his Altean side… not yet. All these doubts rush through his mind like tumbling rocks before the whisper manifested into a shrill command.
"Altean! Half blood!"
The coarse voice rang through the mountains like iron scraped over rock. It berated his ears and turned his stomach inside out. Lotor dropped to his knees as the sheer voice continued, ripping into him with every painful syllable. Tingling peppered through his muscles and the pain shooting between his ears was almost undefinable.
It said, "Tool, a dabbler you may be, but you will release me."
The words held a distinct accent. Panic was nearing Lotor's threshold. Amidst a ragged breath, Lotor formed a reply. "Lead me to the princess." It was a feeble attempt but his arrogance held little boundaries and it was worth a shot.
A mental tug of war set off. A gust of damp wind tore through the canyon. He was familiar with battle of word, but this took it to an entirely different level. He strained to keep his sanity intact for the moment, to focus on the force of wills.
It answered him. "I will not." Every vowel reverberated with ethereal energy. Each consonant carried immense power. It was something Lotor doubted he could ever attain. His resolved withered momentarily with the thoughts.
Lotor's inner dialogue followed strongly. Fool! You are a weak prince. I will show you why we have survived so long… survived father!
The ferocity with which the vision overtook Lotor quaked even his bones.
"You are a black spot in my lifetime. A mark of utter failure, Lotor." The Emperor's meaty hand constricted further over his son's windpipe.
The prince pried at the massive hands with bleeding fingers. Darkness was creeping at the edges of his vision. He struggled with a last attempt at getting free of his father's grasp. His sense of self-preservation was enough to drown out the terror for now. He knew this was coming. It had hedged on the outskirts of his mind for years:
His father would kill him. Right here. Right now. That would be accomplished.
There was a part of him that was reserved to the fate that blazed in Zarkon's furious eyes.
"I should kill you as an example," Zarkon continued venomously.
Lotor's lungs burned for oxygen. He wanted to die. He wished he held the courage and the chance to scream. To yell and beckon him to do it, to finally make good on the empty promises.
But his father had always been a liar.
The Emperor threw him across the massive court.
Air sucked into Lotor's chest with piercing fire as he landed in a twisted heap. He had not even caught a fraction of his breath when an armoured boot kicked him onto his back. Lotor once again met the galra's eyes.
It was in that moment Lotor felt finally crushed. He had never experienced such betrayal. He had never felt so torn, so hated, so hurt. Tears came and Lotor struggled to grip the pieces of himself suddenly bursting from the dam.
"You are weak!"
Hell unloosed.
The half-blood prince erupted from the vision with a violent roar. The world suddenly seemed inexplicably silent. The rushing wind from the storm halted its course. For a fraction of a second, Lotor felt nothing but stark relief being released from the mental prison of his memories. But as reality flooded back to the prince, Lotor experienced the onrush of emotions return to him.
Rage and fear roared in an instant flame, manifesting itself in a barrage of mental energy. A feral instinct overtook Lotor's spirit and the rabid drive for bloodshed overcame him.
The surrounding canyon shapeshifted in a quick flash. He saw a twisted labyrinth of violet strands of quintessence snaking over the rocky ground. They converged across the pass where a black figure stood as a silhouette, poised to kill with flickering blade in hand.
The second of insight vanished an instant later. He had a target now, however. He launched himself over the uneven earth towards the invisible foe, bringing with him all the dredged-up pain from his earlier recollection. It coursed through him and he tapped into the essence of alchemy that dwelt deeply set in his soul.
He was awarded with another glimpse of the shadowy figure leaping upwards to meet Lotor's offence.
The shadow flickered in and out of physical existence as the two danced lethally with fist and sword.
It was unlike anything the prince had ever endured. His body was physically taxed with every massive clash but the cyclone of energy swirling inside of him was overwhelming. It shone through his body and caused his Altean marks to burn with fervent brilliance. It carried him on the powerful tide towards victory. It moved with such immensity, that a hint of fear crept at the back of his subconscious. To hold so much power…
The voice broke into his focus, "I will consume you as I have your brethren."
Lotor ignored the words and landed a wide arced kick to his opponents' theoretical midsection. He actually felt an impact. "Where is she?" he snarled as the shade stumbled back.
He only had one objective; one reason he had come here. Sanity was slowly returning to him and he thought of Allura. It was a mistake.
"Release me!" An onslaught of raw energy erupted from the palms of Lotor's opponent.
The prince rolled, managing to get away despite his previous distraction. Weak!
"Where is she?" Lotor repeated.
This time the shadow drew up to its full stature and a pair of blazing crimson eyes ignited. Lotor did not need to tap into his Altean essence this time to witness the manifestation. His mouth dried and his heart rate reached another level.
"I will consume her!"
The wraith disappeared with a thunderclap.
"No!" Lotor lunged where it had been last. His hands caught empty air. "No!" Lotor cried again. "Allura! Princess!" Yearning flooded his heart. Vehement ire mounted once more.
He beat his chest one time in anger before letting out another growl. "Allura!" I won't leave.