A change of spirits
Keith observed the pudgy sorcerer wiggling his fingers above Lotor. The ex-prince looked mildly apprehensive and held onto the phosphorescent eyed cat, as if unconsciously asking the feline to protect him. The commander couldn't help but find the scene humorous.
He sobered instantly when ribbons of light arced from the sorcerer's fingers. It didn't feel like the Opponents, though, and Keith relaxed, belatedly realising he had just drawn his weapon again.
Lotor shot him a bizarre look, his expression a mix between resentment and gratefulness. Keith kept his gun aimed at Barok while the light hovered around the ex-prince, never quite touching, and the sigils Kovak had painted on his skin suddenly reappeared. They shone briefly and sank.
Lotor let out a small giggle, startling both the commander and himself. He shrugged.
"It tickled," he declared, smiling now.
The sorcerer lowered his arms, and Keith holstered his weapon.
"That was it?" Lotor asked, wide-eyed.
"You are very receptive... What can I say?" Said Barok apologetically. "I could have added a bit of nerve wracking..."
"Quite all right, sorcerer," Lotor interrupted. "Thank you. So does this mean the pilots and I can ditch each other?"
"To a greater distance, yes. You should at least be able not to share rooms."
Lotor let his head fall on the sofa and sighed in contentment, caressing the cat into a purring puddle. He did feel better. It was like the relief of a continuous noise suddenly stopping: pure bliss. Or like a door that had been left opened to the chilling wind was closed at last, leaving you in a warm and quiet room.
"That seemed much less complicated then Haggar's magic," Keith observed. "Doesn't it always involve rimes and crystals?"
Barok chuckled. "Our magic comes naturally and works through symbols. Hers as well. It's her augmented powers that are so capricious, for they draw on sentient sources, like the Opponents. You can tell it left a toll. Such beings do not give. They are coerced, or they sell."
Keith rapped twice sharply on the door, and Hunk came in.
"Everything went well?"
"See for yourself," said Keith, gesturing to Lotor. "He's pretty much transformed to marshmallow. Are you even mobile?" he directed the question at the reclining drule.
"Mmhm," Lotor mumbled. "In a few minutes, humans. Don't get... how does your Lance say it? Ah, yes. Your panties in a twist."
After a pleasant conversation on the several ancient drule tribes and the traditional patterns they still cherished, several cookies and a promise to help if they ever needed other formal wear, Barok, Keith and Hunk finally persuaded Lotor to leave the sofa. He looked more relaxed then they'd ever seen him, an almost serene smile softening his features as he smoothed his robes. He had a request for Barok.
"I'd like to borrow Soval as well, if it's all right with you."
"Of course. I suggested it earlier. He likes you, and such animals repel malignant spirits. He will help if you keep him close."
Soval jumped again on his new favourite spot on Lotor's shoulder.
"Does this cat eat mice?" Asked Keith in sudden apprehension.
"Soval? Hunt?" Barok laughed uproariously, and Soval proceeded to studiously ignore him, licking a paw to soothe his bruised pride, a white little fang bared in an indignant scold.
***** ***** *****
Dozens of sketches of Soval in a myriad of positions littered Lotor's room. He was satisfied with them, but felt it would be better to see the feline in a natural setting. He could manage a few hundred feet from the pilots, but to go in the forest, it would be more prudent to bring one of them.
It thought it would be an useless battle to try and be civil to the Commander twice in the same day, and was glad to meet Pidge first. The Green Lion pilot shrugged.
"No problem, I can script just as well from the woods."
They went on a tour, and Lotor forced the cat off his shoulder. Soval yowled indignantly.
"Cat, you were the one to appear insulted by the sorcerer's mockery of your hunting skills," commented Lotor with a smirk.
Soval seemed at least as versed in biped language as Coba. He bristled, took a regal pose, then started prowling with intent purpose. Pidge chuckled.
"Would you know where is Little Flower," asked Lotor. "I haven't seen her for days."
"The count Soubise grounded her. He wants her to focus on 'proper interests' for young noble women."
"Like marriage and genetics, I take it," said Lotor bitterly.
"Crudely put, yes."
"I hope Allura blocks those obligations before she becomes an unwilling Baroness. Have you an idea when this farce is supposed to take place?"
"Her marriage you mean? No idea. But I wouldn't fear, she would never accept."
"You haven't read the law, Baron. She doesn't even have to consent. A simple 'no' wouldn't work. Why do you think I fear for Allura so?"
Pidge sputtered.
"But that's... barbaric!"
"And useful for people like me. I do wonder who that Baron is and why he wants union with a fourteen-year-old. And we should know when this Count Soubise plans to have the ceremony. I hope your pilot morals do not prevent you from crashing unwanted parties."
"Nope. It warrants looking into at least... I'm on it."
Lotor nodded in approval. They followed Soval, the ex-prince keenly observing the grace of the feline. The cat crouched, leaped, ran for short stretches and even caught a bird, Pidge resolutely turning his back as the poor thing was devoured.
Soval was not used to long stretches of hunting and soon manoeuvred to surprise his new biped by jumping on his shoulder from a tree and hang on tightly, claws clamped with unbreakable determination. Lotor sighed. He had gotten to see the moves he wanted, so he indulged the lazy cat and they returned to the palace.
Lotor went back to his designs, and Pidge went directly to Allura to inquire about Rose. She promised to check on the little ferret.
***** ***** *****
It wasn't long before Lotor was ready to begin on the computer. He sent Soval back to the village, thanking the cat for the inspiration. He already had enlisted Pidge and Hunk, and they practically lived in the lab, going over fantastic sketches and schematics.
Keith came to visit often, just to make sure the drule didn't abuse his comrades, but the fear was unwarranted. They looked more like kids in a sand box then antagonists. The ex-prince was soon ready to begin modelling his creation.
Obviously, this was not the first time Lotor used 3D software to generate plans. Keith had to admit that the drule, Pidge and Hunk were complementary geniuses. Not only did the new design look sleek, but the projected Lions could join more swiftly. The resulting mecha had the grace of a khiarateer.
He looked forward to seeing the finished product. He doubted the real Voltron could be made to look like these bold designs. The Lions were literally possessed machines, and this new version was still just a fancy casing. What if they couldn't match the insides? What if the spirits refused to enter these new bodies?
All those worries evaporated on the fifth day of the trio's work. The commander visited the lab as usual and was observing their progress, when he suddenly felt strange. Looking at his hand, he saw that it glowed. A halo of silvery light lined his body and expended.
Amazed, he saw that Hunk and Pidge were surrounded by light as well. Green and golden light coalesced around them. They looked at each other in amazement. There was no pain, just a sense of loss when the lights seeped out and began to reach for Lotor.
The drule backed away in terror. These looked too much like Haggar's friends to him. He bumped against a piece of equipment and landed none too graciously on the floor. And then they were on him. Red and blue light came right through the ceiling and joined the others. They couldn't see the ex-prince anymore as he was cocooned in their beauty.
The lights lifted abruptly and went back to their protégés. Keith sighed in relief when he felt the spirit of the Black Lion back in the depth of his soul. He felt part of it missing, but it caused no discomfort.
No one talked. Lotor was dazed. His eyes were unfocussed. In a trance, he rose and went to his computer. He began to type furiously, with preternatural speed.
Hunk came closer to see if he was all right.
*Leave him be, gentle warrior*
He stopped, and they witnessed the strange possession. For several hours, Lotor didn't sleep, eat or rest. He was totally immersed in such complex mechanics that even Pidge could only look in confusion.
They showed this to the others and Allura worried. She brought Coran to see this trance the drule was caught in.
"You were there, Coran, when father built Voltron. Was he in any way possessed like this?" She asked.
"It's very similar," he answered. "Alfor kept mumbling though, as if conversing with them. There is nothing we can do. He won't stop until he has finished what they want him to accomplish."
"At any rate, Lotor will be exhausted when they let go; they don't seem to acknowledge the limits and needs of an organic body," Coran added, looking out reproachfully. "They almost killed Alfor when he built Voltron."
*Keeper.*
The voices spoke to Coran, and they knew this even if they did not say his name. *You speak the truth. We forget your fragility. We haven't had organic bodies for eons. We will allow the thinker to rest."
Lotor suddenly pitched forward like a puppet with its strings cut. He rolled off his chair and spilled on the floor. Allura was closest and knelt beside him. His eyes opened, and his face lit in a beatific smile. "Did I save all this?"
***** ***** *****
Hehe, the spirits are eager! Lotor will have his hands (and his mind) full! This is the second half of the last chapter, that's why its rather short. I just finished it today. I know where this is going, I do have a plan (!) but most of it isn't written yet. I'm still swamped by Real Life, but I wanted to post another chapter before the 24th. To those who celebrate this Holiday, Happy Christmas, and to those who don't, Happy New Year! Merry whatever you choose to celebrate for, may it be a time of joy and discoveries, peace and health!