Chapter 11 – Pandemonium

Don't you know that it was your king himself who sent you on this mission?

Almira's helmet lay discarded on the ground, forgotten in the heat of the moment, yet Eaghan and Ten listened on in horror and multifaceted confusion. It was a trap; they had been waiting for Almira this entire time, and now she stood heavily injured and trapped in a room with an ungodly creature whose powers rivaled her own. Uninjured she would have stood more than just a chance, but her biometrics were going haywire from the gauntlet she had just run through. With the camera tilted on the side, the technician and tactician could only watch in horror as the Galra scientist and wraith seemingly stood sideways, shadowed by the griffon that raged in the background.

But Eaghan's mind raced. This wasn't just a trap for Almira; this entire mission to uproot the Galra from the planet was at risk. The entire plans was wasting away, sucked into a vortex, and at the eye of the storm stood King Khayin himself. King, leader, father.

Traitor.

Forget that Almira wasn't purely Fleogan, or her mother for that matter. The mole was unveiled, and their cover was blown. Eaghan stood sharply, muting his headset and looking at Ten in the eyes. "Keep tabs on the situation. I need to alert everyone else."

With a nod from his subordinate the youngest prince rushed from the room. Because of the secrecy of Almira's mission, the two of them had stationed themselves in a private room next door to the rest of the communications center, heading the operations. He strode across the hallways in six skipping steps, bursting into the room and gaining the attention of Jin, who stood close to the door at the highest point in the room, looking down upon everyone else who slaved away at their monitors. Eaghan's commander turned at his entrance, concern immediately covering his face as he read the horrified expression on the face of his most ambitious captain.

"We've been exposed." So hurried to report, the prince forgot to salute his commander, instead speaking as fast as possible. "The mole exposed our current plan. Those advanced teams are in danger."

Jin's bushy brows furrowed, grief overtaking his expression. "They began their assaults not thirty tics ago." Turning back to the room, he began barking orders. "Warn the advanced teams. Their cover has been blown. Resort to aggressive measures, and improvise!"

Various shouts below signified the beginning of a new flurry of movement, various correspondences rushing to relay their new messages before any further damages could be reported. For the moment, all seemed fair in the world, but Eaghan grabbed Jin's arm again. Brilliant blue eyes met the harsh dark orbs of his commander. "There's more, sir." Turning their back from the room, Eaghan's voice lowered to a whisper. "The king is accused of being the mole."

The commanding officer's brows furrowed even deeper, if possible. "That is a dangerous call, captain." His whispers were harsh, provocative, urging his young mentee to consider their weight. It was no light thing to accuse a royal of treason, let alone the king.

Yet Eaghan held fast. "Would I tell you if I had more reasons to doubt it than to believe? Sir," he swallowed harshly, "Almira's life is on the line. This mission was intentional."

It was a look of pain unlike any other. Jin had known that Captain Almira's mission had been a near death sentence, but to hear this confirmed was another thing. Grief was driven into his heart, and for a moment Jin's look betrayed every emotion he felt. But he wrapped it up, pulling his composure together. Silence, for a moment. Then the commander spoke in a reserved tone, hushed and level. "We will halt all hourly communications with the king. Keep me posted."

When their eyes met again it was with the weight of treason, the solemnity at the situation that heightened severity. If they were wrong, it would mean their heads. Remembering to salute this time Eaghan backed away, returning to his post and leaving a semi-composed man with a new evolution of the situation. Jin was a genius; he could handle it.

But this left Eaghan with Almira, cornered in the room. When he returned to Ten's side, he saw the fear in the technician's eyes, his own eyes widening at the scene being broadcasted to them. The helmet was somehow still relatively intact, with cracks spreading through the screen and partially obscuring the view. Flicking his headseat back on, Eaghan's ears were assaulted with the monstrous shriek, new to the scene. The dust in the visuals was settling, and he couldn't help but stare for a moment at the creature that emerged from the rubble.

"Gods…"

"Don't you know that it was your king himself who sent you on this mission?"

"Lies!" Almira refused to drop from her offensive position. But the wedge had been driven into her heart, the seed planted, and the Galra scientist knew it.

The devious alien continued, refusing to let her outbursts detract from his gloating. "Yes, who among all the military had the capability to see this silly offensive through? Who is the most capable of outwitting the enemy? The king saw you as the biggest threat, and thought to cut you off from the army like an arm from the body. Even you cannot keep up with the druids."

So that was what the creature was. It continued to hover by the scientist's side, seemingly ambivalent to the gloating chatter of his compatriot with its yellow slits glaring down at Almira's smaller figure. The knowledge made little difference, other than putting a name with the face—well, mask, in this case. Simply staring at its billowing figure filled Almira's gut with cold resilience, making her clench her sword tighter.

"Your king, and every king before him, have been collaborators with ourselves. To ensure your peoples' survival, all we ask for are mere tributes, sacrifices. Of course," he mockingly bowed, "they were all for the advancement of civilization. Their deaths were not in vain."

"The king would never!"

"What are a few sacrifices when compared to an entire peoples? Your peoples, may I remind you?" Spreading his hands wide, his expression was filled with mockery and disgust. "Your king speaks for the people, and thus humbly submits to us."

This was more than treason. The king had betrayed them all, from the very start. Almira still struggled to comprehend it, her heart both violently refusing to accept the words that flowed into her mind and stilling, the seeds of doubt growing from within and threatening to tear her apart. She had been sentenced by the king—her father—to suffer at the hands of this wraith and most likely die.

Suddenly, her thoughts came together. Adjusting her grip on her sword, she breathed in and out. She knew what question to ask, what she could learn to solidify her decision on if the king were truly the adversary. "Tell me," she spoke coldly. "Did the king give you the one with the plum wings?"

His face scrunched in confusion, mind working to find an answer to her question. Almira was beginning to feel confident that there was no answer that he could give, that Lavena's abduction had been a freak accident, until a cackle sent a cold sensation down her spine. The scientist's teeth bared into a grin, his insanity beginning to show. "Ah yes, the young woman. Khayin was most upset about having to trade her over, but that was the price for hiding Voltron. Shame, too. She was most vicious when we came to tear her wings from her body, but it mattered little when she lay dead on the floor."

Space mattered little to Almira as she warped across the room, her blade plunged through his chest without hesitation. The scientist sputtered, stumbling backwards with his hands uncertainly hovering around the weapon now protruding from his body. The druid almost lazily flicked a tendril of lightning in her direction, certainly lacking the ferocity that had been exerted just outside the room. It was enough to force her backward, drawing upon her powers to shield herself and let the electric tendrils roll around her. Turning to his comrade in confusion, the scientist gaped. "Why…?"

"My mission is to kill the girl. There was nothing concerning your safety."

It was the first time the creature had spoke, and to hear such a deep voice emanating from such a haunting and ethereal figure had Almira's mind boggled. The scientist sank to the ground, unable to make any further movements as the realization that he would not be saved by anyone began to crash into his mind. His movements began to still, but the druid merely moved to float over his corpse, advancing on Almira. Sparks began to fly around his fingertips, a crackling pinkish, purplish energy that danced erratically. "Cease your struggle. Death is imminent."

This would be a battle of skill, not of the sword but of elemental prowess. Almira closed her eyes for a moment, taking the time to attune herself to the space of the room and to the powers she so gratefully called upon, the winds beginning to swirl in her palms.. "I am no stranger to death."

"You may be a master of the wind, but your skills pale in comparison to mine."

Her mind calm, she slowly opened her eyes. Golden orbs only reflected cold determination, set on the task ahead of her. "The wind has no master," she recited from memory, "and I am but a steward."

The druid's power began to swirl even more violently around its figure. "Then face your fate."

Almira's reaction time was so swift, so quick to the draw that the ensuing blast seemed more of a coordinated attack than a call and response. Malevolent lightning pushed against the currents of wind, creating white sparks in response as currents rubbed against one another. When the blasts struck the ground the explosion rocked the base, creating a cacophony of dust and chaos amid which the druid and the Fleogan collided. It was a struggle of attacks and deflecting, the wicked energy charged rolling off shields of wind and occasionally colliding with other pieces of the room.

Blow by blow, the room began to fall apart. The two combatants refused to bat an eye, so engaged in their deadly dance around the room that they only darted and twirled around the falling rubble as though it were a mere nuisance. Golden eyes lock on the white mask, occasionally darting between the two hands that erratically moved through space, tracking every movement with absolute devotion. Neither side spoke another word, although the druid would shriek every so often in anger at the resilience of the native alien who surpassed his every expectation with every deflected blow. Never had such an inferior creature so blatantly denied his advances, let alone so expertly weave through his attacks with such grace and fluidity. In another life, surely she would have been a druid, so masterfully deflecting and repurposing his elemental blows and keeping pace with him.

But Almira was beginning to tire, and her muted anger threatened to surface. Her rage at the injustices learned in this attack had been carefully laid to rest under a mask of serenity and focus at the task at hand. Anger, however, could only be suppressed for so long. It was when the druid gave a final shriek of irritation and maneuvered away from close combat that she almost realized too late what was about to happen. Supercharging his hands, the blast of energy that the druid emitted was blistering and horrifyingly strong. Throwing up her hands in irritation, Almira's ire began to rise as her fit slid on the floor, the blow pushing her back and forcing her to lose ground. With an angered cry of her own she met the challenge with a stirring rally of her own, throwing a white lightning bolt with enough energy to rival her opponent back in their direction.

The bolts collided, sending a cacophony of sparks into the air in random directions and creating a booming explosion. Both combatants were thrown from their positions, Almira sent flying into the ground across the space. Refusing to let a moment pass, she pulled herself up quickly, eyes scanning through the smoke to try and evaluate the damage.

A shriek reverberated in the air. Almira's blood ran cold. It was not the cry of the druid that she had become accustomed to. Glass crunched like gravel as razor sharp talons thudded against the ground. Beating wings resounded in the space, creating gusts of wind like Almira had never experienced before. The violent blast had broken the cage of the beast, the griffon raging free now, tossing its head around and shaking its limbs like a fighter preparing for the next round. It was now that Almira took a good look at the creature; its body was like a lion, though in place of paws talons ripped through the metallic floor like shreds of paper. It boasted magnificent tawny wings as big as the rest of its body, and an intelligent, hawk like head that swiveled upon its shoulders. Beady black eyes combed through the space and came to rest on Almira's figure, and the second shriek filled her gut with fear.

The beast was unleashed.

Settling back into its haunches, the griffon suddenly launched into the air, set on diving into Almira's position as greedy claws stretched toward her figure. She barely had time to warp out of harm's way, reappearing close to the broken containment cell and trying to wrap her mind around the quickly devolving situation. So concerned about the griffon's appearance, she left herself open to a surprise attack from the druid, who warped in behind her and sent her flying with a swift blast of energy. A cry wrenched from her lips as she flew into the air and skid on the ground, glass shards attempting to dig into her uniform and attach themselves into her white tresses. For the second time in the day her body convulsed with the aftereffects of the electric shock, the jolt just as powerful as the first time. Shaking her head and attempting to pull herself up, Almira slumped onto the floor just as the druid appeared above her, hand crackling with energy.

There was no escape. She was in delusions from the pain, vision blurring, head spinning. Burning yellow slats in the white mask stared down at her in cold disgust. Almira tried to will herself up, to run away, but the pain in her body stayed her hand, her will.

Eyes closing, she let her head slump in defeat.

I'm sorry, Arden.

A shriek. Then a thump as something collided, the familiar crackling of Almira's death sentence suddenly removed. For a moment, there was silence, and she reactively sighed in relief. But then another shriek pierced the air, and the warrior forced herself up at the new sounds, surprised at the sight that greeted her.

The griffon had somehow collided with the druid, pulling him off of Almira and stealing his attention. But the shadowy wraith had only turned his wrath onto the poor creature, who endured blow after blow, streams of energy cascading from those wretched, bony hands that outstretched themselves to deliver cascades of deadly agony. Now the only screams that filled the air were the enraged cries of the druid, the griffon cowering at its hands. Its eyes had closed, body slumping slowly to the ground as the muscles refused to obey.

There was no reason why Almira should have logically helped the griffon. It was a threat to her existence; not a few moments ago, it had sailed through the air with the intent to kill her. Greedy, glimmering talons had reached through the air, ready to pierce flesh and grind into bone. But in that moment Almira remembered her history; griffons were legendary pieces of Fleogan myths, said to have vanished into the holy mountains of the Shendian thousands of years ago. They had a connection with the gods, a symbol of the power and might of the wind. But above all, she saw the deference that came with torture, the submission and fear that only followed a broken spirit.

And that was Almira found the power to move.

Crawling to her knees, she unsheathed one of her favored daggers, sending a prayer to the gods before warping through the space. It had been to her fortune that the druid had been so engaged with forcing the beast into submission, the crackling of the energy so loud that it covered her approach. He did not realize her appearance until he felt the blade slide into his back, his slip of attention only brought to his awareness moments before Almira's vengeance danced over his body.

With every ounce of power within her body she poured her heart and soul into the dagger, the blade acting as a channel for her unbridled rage as she released a storm of electricity into the druid's body. She heard its cries, heard the silence that followed after the creature had no voice left, no will to shriek, to protest the pain. It was then that she allowed the creature to slump to the ground, straddling its figure on the ground as she ripped the mask from its face.

She had no idea what kind of alien this druid was. Perhaps it was Galra, long before it had become tainted by deep sorcery. But the shriveled face, unrecognizable face in front of her did nothing emotionally for her, and she placed a hand in front of his face.

"I am death. Your life ends now." Her voice was raspy, nowhere near the powerful, confident voice she wished to convey. But the message had been delivered, and she watched mercilessly as yellow eyes widened in fear, the last emotion they would ever express. Her own molten gold eyes were dead to the world, emotionless, as she felt his breath slide from his chest, departing from his body and coming to dance around her fingers in a playful twirl. The druid had been on death's door even before she stole the breath from his lungs; she knew that she had stabbed him near the heart. But the fear of being unable to breathe had been instilled in his last moment, the real power that she held over it. Even for all the sorcery the creature knew, Almira would still come out on top. Barely, but just enough. She was alive.

Barely.

Dismissing the air, she felt it dissipate into the rest of the smoky room, filled with debris from the fight. It was not often that her enemies suffocated due to her own powers. The technique developed by the wind benders was something that Almira had always hated. But in that moment she had felt powerful, taking the breath from a powerful, yet nameless figure that would certainly haunt her dreams for weeks to come. Even if she had been nearly destroyed, she had come out alive in the end. And that was the most important piece.

She stood, taking only a few steps before her body gave out on her again. There was too much stress on her body systems, and gratefully she sank to the floor. Exhaustion had taken over, and before she knew it, she had blacked out to the world.

Almira floated in darkness, oblivious to the world. When she came back to her senses, she could sense someone—something?—hovering over her figure. Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to have a heart attack.

The griffon was standing over her body.

It was longer than she was tall, beady black eyes staring down at her with a penetrating gaze, a razor sharp beak hovering inches above her own nose. Almira refused to move, staring back at the creature with undiluted fear. She had almost died to this creature not long ago, and here it was, standing over her unconscious body and staring at her in what seemed to be contemplation and confusion.

Then again, what was it doing? By logic it should have snapped her in half before she even woke up. But instead, a warble came out of his beak, chest rumbling and purring as it looked into Almira's own golden eyes. Blinking slowly, she stared back into its eyes hesitantly, still completely uncertain if it was about to kill her or not. Perhaps it was undecided.

The longer they stood at an impasse, the more curious Almira became. When she began to move her hand from her sides the griffon's feathers ruffled, a growl emanating from its throat and forcing her to freeze it space. Its eyes remained on her hand, watching it warily as it froze in space. Eventually it seemed to calm down, although still wary as she slowly moved her hand to scratch its neck, like one would a pet. As soon as her fingers grazed its neck the beast grumbled, stretching itself out and beckoning her touch. A small smile graced her lips. Perhaps this creature wasn't so bad, just abused and wary from its captivity. What sort of torture had it gone through?

The giant pulled away from her touch, staring down at her figure with those intelligent, black eyes. The two stared at one another, waiting. Then the griffon lowered its head and placed its forehead in her outstretched palm.

Wind. Blue, limitless skies. A feeling of freedom.. Serenity and peace. Then confusion, pain, and agony. The sky vanished and turned into cold metal bonds. Limbs tied down, and a searing purple pain lancing through the body. Grief, twisted into fiery rage.

Almira found herself gasping for air as her senses returned to her. It was as though her mind had been forced out of her body, melding with another consciousness to see memories that were not hers. It was an out of body experience like no other, and she found herself staring back into those black eyes. "Was…" she breathed heavily, voice quiet, "were those your memories?"

She had not been expecting any sort of intelligible answer, but the griffon's eyes closed, its head lowering back into her palm again. Almira found that she was too tired to resist, but also too curious to deny its outstretched head. This time, she was prepared.

Unbridled anger. The cage shattered, the first thing on its mind was to lash out in retribution. The abuser was in front, unleashing wave after wave of energy. Suddenly, it stopped. Confusion. Then anticipation, waiting for the white haired creature to attack. It never did, collapsing to the floor instead.

Gratefulness. Protectiveness. Warmth. Loyalty.

Back in her own mind, Almira now understood. The creature communicated through images and emotions, allowing others into its mind to see what it thought. It warbled gently again, nudging her own head carefully with its beak as though to move her from the ground. Catching her breath once again she scratched its feathers in appreciation before moving to sit up from the ground. With a groan she pulled herself up, visually checking herself for any damage and looking around the room as the griffon pulled back.

The room was in tatters. It was only now that Almira remembered her helmet, all communications severed without that piece of her uniform. Her muscles protested as she rose, another grimace and grunt as she moved to her feet. The griffon remained at her side, chest thrumming gently as Almira placed a hand on its back to steady herself. Taking a look around the room, she slowly began to hobble toward the entrance, where she had last seen the piece, the gentle giant ever at her side and making sure that she would not fall. Around and over various rubble that littered the floor, she began kicking various pieces around, aimlessly sifting through the junk.

To her luck, a gentle nudge of a medium size piece of ceiling panel revealed the object in question, the glass visor on the front showing a few cracks that ran along the surface. It was still intact, and she hauled the piece over her head, noticing that it was still running. "Hello?"

"Oh thank the gods." It was Ten who answered after a moment's pause. "We thought you—what is that?!"

She remembered that the visual display was still being projected, and she extended her hand to the griffon. It nuzzled the extended limb, purring contentedly and sending another smile across Almira's lips. "It's the griffon. He's a friendly little guy."

"That's anything but small, Almira." She gave a noncommittal grunt to acknowledge his statement; now that she was standing up, she had to admit that the griffon was taller than she was, its back almost as high as her shoulder. Even if she knew it was huge, she had not been expecting something this large.

But there were more important things at hand. "Status update. What'd I miss?"

"It's rough, but we're still rolling. Thanks to our Galra friend's admission, we were able to issue warnings to all strike teams. They sustained a few casualties, but they pulled through. The primary operation had commenced, and there've been a few difficulties. Eaghan was called back to the other room almost as soon as we lost contact with you."

So they had survived for the moment. "And the King?"

Ten hesitated. Almira could read the uncertainty in his voice. "The commander has halted all communications. We're not sure how long we can get away with it."

"I see." An idea began to form in her mind, but she played along for now. "And for me? Where am I needed?"

"Nowhere, right now. I guess they really didn't think you'd make it out. I'll get orders for you."

"There's no need." Almira had an idea of what she was about to do. "Return to the command room, Ten. Thank you for your work."

She could almost hear the gears turning in the technician's head. "I don't understand…"

This was about to get tricky. "Don't worry about it. Just get me the best route to Altaira so I can get a piece of the action." If only he knew. She waited as he worked to send the requested information to her comms, pieces appeared in a scattered fashion.

"I'll alert the commander to your arrival. How will you get there?"

Glancing at the griffon, an idea formed in her head. She had no idea how it would take her idea, or if it could even understand her, but it was worth the shot. It was either that or stealing a Galra ship, which wasn't below her either at this point. "I'll improvise." She settled on a neutral response. "Don't worry."

"Affirmative. Be careful, Captain."

"Thank you, Ten." The line cut, and Almira's thoughts came to life.

First came her ride. Placing herself in front of the griffon, she knelt before it as a sign of respect. "Can you help me? I need to get back home as fast as possible."

Lowering its head once again, Almira immediately understood what it wanted. Stretching her hand out again, she was surprised when she found herself half hovering in her mind, half in the mind of the majestic being. Questioning.

Still in her own head, she managed to put together as brief a response as possible. "My people are fighting to overthrow the Galra. That scientist, and that druid creature." Her chest warmed in amusement as she felt the anger seeping back into their emotional connection. "Yes. I was sent here to die by that monster."

More confusion flowed through their connection. But here, she could speak her mind. The griffon was not the military. This was off the books. "My father, the king, was a mole. He fed information to the Galra, and has been doing so for years. He has willingly sent our people to die. I want to find out why."

Not fighting?

It wanted to know why she was not returning to the fight. Why she was going home. Her throat began to choke with emotion, turning itself into a knot. "He sent my sister to die. I need to confront him." Her hand gripped its feathers, gripping the sturdy structure of its skull. "I need to cut him off from our troops. No one else has the stomach."

Do you?

She had been sent on a mission to die. Lavena might as well have been a dead woman the moment she was sold out. And her mother… surely the King knew of her lineage.

Her father knew of her blood.

It was a dichotomy that stilled her thoughts. Certainly the king would pay for his crimes. But he was still a risk, a liability to the war until someone restrained him. Eaghan's hands were tied behind his back; they could not accuse the king at the moment, so busy with trying to win the war in real time. Ironically, she had been sentenced to die by the king. Could she sentence him by her own power?

They were running out of time. Every moment the king went free was a risk. And in that moment, Almira decided that he was just that; a king, not a father. Her father would never betray her country, her home, her heart.

"I have to do this."

The griffon did not seem to be convinced. However, its wings flared open, testing its strength before the moment. An image of the skies above was enough to plaster a false smile on Almira's lips as she mounted the creature's back, hugging its neck in an attempt to secure herself. It would go with her, carrying her to a moment that would seal not only her fate, but the fate of the planet.

"How fast can we get there?"

A rumble sounded in its chest, and Almira realized it was a chuckle. It reared its head, shrieking loudly and conjuring a power of its own that ripped the ceilings apart into shred, an opening appearing. Bloody morning was upon them, and Almira barely hung on as the griffon's muscles tensed before leaping into the air, hurtling high into the skies above.

Once air born, Almira had time to think. Jin and Eaghan had halted communications with the King to ensure that no more plans were leaked. He would become antsy, a ticking time bomb without constant reports and updates. He would find out what they knew, and that was a fiasco waiting to be unboxed. Jin, Eaghan, and she were all committing treason by going against wartime protocol, and they could be sentenced harshly after the battle.

But the King was a traitor himself. Surely that had to count for something. But they could tell no one; accusing the King of treason was almost as high ranking as committing the treason itself, and all they had was an encounter on Almira's end, along with the word of a Galra scientist. It was a shoddy base, but Almira knew it to be true. She felt it in her heart, knew it in her mind. If they allowed the King to continue unmonitored, the entire operation could crumble within a heartbeat—it almost had.

Jin and Eaghan had their hands tied behind their back. They could not spare time to confront the king, to court martial him away, to do anything. A meeting with all the councilmen and nobles would have to be convened, along with judges and the whole ten yards. There was no time for the pleasantries, for the rules and protocol.

But Almira was open, and her blood thirsted for answers and revenge.

Ironic, that the one individual who had essentially been handed a death sentence was the one who found the most freedom under wartime protocols. After escaping an early demise she was free to move around, to do what she wanted. And what she wanted was revenge. She wanted the King to feel what she had felt; the betrayal at the realization she had been sent to die, the anguish she felt when she realized who had sent Lavena to her death, the anguish rooted in her heart at the betrayal of their hearth and home. Almira wanted to slit his throat and watch him bleed out on the marble floors of the throne room, watching that royal blood that knew no ends to infamy and traitorousness sliding on those white tiles.

Could she do it? It all came down to that question. Yes, she wanted revenge and payback, but this was her father. After all that had happened, her stone cold heart still beat warm somewhere in the depths on her chest. He was the last connection to her past, her mother, and that was what held her back.

This was no time for uncertainty. She had to enter this battlefield just as assured, confident, and merciless as any other mission on which she had embarked. Settling her heart, she stowed all memories away. This was a traitor, and they would be dealt with accordingly, even if she stained her own hands.

Soaring through the sky, her arms wrapped tightly around the griffon's neck, she buried her face into the creature's back. Soon. It would all be over soon.

AN: Here we go, here we go, here we go...

I'm literally dying with school, but the good news is I just received my first acceptance letter! I will be starting a combined master's and credential program after graduation (what upppppp). I'm still determined to finish this story by the end of the year, so bear with me folks!

That's all I have on my end. Just tears and this story. RIP

Love you all!