Superstition was a strong force in Arus. The rise and fall of the sun determined the rhythm of life. Believing that evil beings roamed freely in the dark of the night, people would only leave their homes while the sun hung in the horizon and kept indoors while darkness blanketed the land,
The privacy that the darkness offered and the freedom of a solitary ride were balm to Keith's aching soul. He allowed Deheum to set the pace, trusting in his mount's sure-footedness and intelligence, qualities that were shared by all of the horses in the Royal Stables.
Urging the stallion up a forested hill behind the castle, Keith breathed in heavily, relishing the cold crispness of the morning air. The wind played with his hair and filled his nostrils with the scent of dew.
Sensing his master's mood, the stallion spurred himself on to an even faster pace. Gathering himself for a jump, he took to the air effortlessly, avoiding a log that blocked his path and burst thorough the forest into a clearing at the hills summit. Trumpeting his disappointment, Deheum reared and danced on his hind legs.
Laughing at his mount's antics, Keith concentrated on keeping his seat and waited until Deheum calmed down before dismounting. "You enjoy these rides just as much as I do, don't you?" he teased affectionately, as he scratched the white star between the stallion's eyes.
Deheum snorted and tossed his head while Keith tied his reins loosely to a nearby branch. Accepting his master's praise as his due, the stallion arched his dark head proudly and shook his forelock out of his eyes before bending down to examine the grass.
Arranging his sword to make sure he wouldn't stab himself in the foot with it, Keith settled down on the ground, surveying his surroundings. From his vantage point, He could see far over the countryside, across the glittering lake that surrounded the castle and the fields that spread out in a patchwork of darkness and life.
The castle rose up majestically on its own hill to the west, its fortified towers glimmering, the silver tinged into the pale pink of a budding rose by the promise of a dawning sun. In the distance, it looked like a faerie castle of legend.
But Keith knew well enough how real it was and how intrusive the reality it symbolized could be. The Castle was more than just the home of the ruler of Arus, it was the embodiment of the hopes and dreams of an entire planet.
He shifted uneasily in his seat, uncomfortable with the realization that like the castle, he and the other members of the Voltron Force were symbols as well. After all, as Allura had said, they brought hope to people who lived in the shadow of oppression.
Keith drew in a deep breath and released it in a huff. Being a leader was nothing new to him, but being a ruler was something different altogether. Although he had served as Captain of the Voltron Force for almost four years, he had never felt a responsibility as heavy as the one he felt now: the weight of the dreams of ten million Arussians.
Keith bent his head and prayed that he wouldn't let them down.
Minutes passed in a silence punctuated by the sound of a few birds twittering. Keith soon noticed that the wind was sighing in the trees and he could hear the leaves rustle in response. He began to hear voices too, faint but still noticeable, floating up from the villages far below.
An extraordinary blanket of calm drifted over him, the lovely sense of peace and well-being that he always associated with meditation and contemplation, which were as necessary and as essential to him as breathing.
The sun was warm against his cheeks but the soft whisper of a breeze cooled the air. Keith drifted for a time, safe and secure, before he became aware of something insistent pulling at him through the warm haze, something that he could no more resist than he not breathe. He slowly opened his eyes, helpless to do anything but obey the silent call that sounded as though it had been shouted.
Before him stood a figure shrouded and hooded in a coarse brown cloak.
"Aren't you going to give me a kiss hello, darling?" Haggar greeted Keith with a malicious smile. With one graceful toss of her head, she threw off the concealing hood of her coarse brown cloak and allowed the gilt waterfall of her unbound hair to fall over her shoulders.
Revulsion crossed Keith's face as he looked at the woman who occupied his wife's body. "You aren't my wife, old witch," he said in a low voice that trembled with the force of his emotions. "You have possessed her body, but we humans are more than our bodies."
"Oh please. Spare me." Haggar snorted. "The body, mind and heart intertwined," she repeated in a mocking singsong. "I am, or rather was, a Daughter of Cador, you know, and I have heard enough mewing sentiment to last me several lifetimes."
"Do not discount their power, old witch." Keith kept his eyes focused on the witch even as his hand moved to the communicator in his pocket to sound an alert to summon the lions. "We cannot see nor touch our emotions, but they can influence us, nonetheless."
"You have been talking to Orla," Haggar scoffed. She shook her head with disgust. "I hear traces of her lofty ideals in your words. Such a pity. I HAD thought more of you, Captain. Now I see that you are just as weak as the rest of them."
"Really? If I am as weak as you say I am, why didn't you kill me immediately?" Keith challenged Haggar with a derisive quirk of a dark eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest, old witch, I don't think you can."
"What makes you think that?" Haggar purred. A seductive smile slithered across the witch's face as she lifted her hand and, in a surprisingly gently caress, smoothed back an unruly lock of dark hair from Keith's face.
"You could have taken advantage of our surprise when we met last and killed us with a ro-beast, but you didn't," Keith said stoically, watching as the smile on Haggar's face faded into its familiar cold menace. "And I think that you couldn't — because the part of Allura in you wouldn't let you."
Acknowledging his point with a curt nod of her head, the witch hesitated before speaking. "You are... were ... special to Allura. Your princess struggled valiantly, but all her efforts were useless. Your death will mark the final destruction of everything that she was and every that she was to be."
Keith's throat was clenched with a fear that constricted his entire chest making it difficult to draw breath but he met Haggar's eyes with a confidence that he was far from feeling. "You won't kill me. You can't."
Haggar's face twisted with anger at his arrogance. "Oh, I can't can I?" She asked even as she lifted her staff. Her hair whipped around her body as a wind responded to her command. "How dare you presume such things of me!"
The earth exploded beneath Keith's feet and he fought to keep his balance. Rocks shattered and flew through the air, causing Deuheum, normally a well behaved mount, to rear and pull away from his bindings and race for safety.
The ground heaved and moved, forcing Keith onto his knees. He looked into Haggar's eyes and appealed — to the little part of the Princess he knew still existed within Haggar's mind — and not to the witch. "Allura, fight her. Don't let her do this."
Something flickered deep inside Haggar's golden eyes and he thought for one breathless moment that he might actually have gotten through. An awareness. A fear. Allura herself. Then, the moment passed and the doubt that he thought he had seen in the golden eyes disappeared.
"Allura, it's me, Keith. Listen to my voice," he commanded, trying to reach his wife one last time, even as the invisible hands of Haggar's power fastened around his arms and legs. "You can do it, Princess. Come on, fight her."
Magical bonds tightened and whirled him through the air, looking like, for all intents and purposes, like a nestling testing his wings for the first time. But like all nestlings, Keith's flight was short. It came to an abrupt end as Haggar threw him against the thick trunk of a sturdy tree.