Catch the Stars ||Keith Kogane||

16

The pounding of hooves interrupted the silence of the short trip to the Olympian refuge. The Paladins approached them from behind on the Jesters brought for them. You could feel that their energy had shifted since being on the castle. It was lighter now after being told they had an alliance.

And it should be.

Trip had every reason to say no and throw them to the mob of warriors that would easily rip them apart at her word.

And yet they take a step towards victory against Zarkon.

No one spoke. Not out of fear and not out of discomfort. But more so to enjoy the peace around them. Miles above them a war was raging and people were dying. But this green planet showed no signs of it. Everyone was soaking in the peace, unsure of when it would end or how long it would be until they felt it again.

The silence was broken slowly. The distant sound of shouting grew louder and louder until it they could no longer hear the song of the Kashing Birds. Only shouts in a language Trip and Harron could speak. Though the language was indecipherable to the crew of Voltron and the princess, the tone was clear.

Everyone was angry. Very angry.

What was left of the peace was washed away as the walls of Olympia came into view. To the people who lived on the other side of them, those walls represented home and safety. To the paladins, they represented merciless fighting and stress.

As they got closer, Trip began hearing bits of words being shouted. The most common ones being "Heda," her title and, "death," their favorite word.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes and look over at Harron.

"Kane jathay cou va cou diau remor ne velo," (I thought you said you didn't ruin my work,) Trip narrows Harron eyes accusingly. The burly man glares back at her.

"Mo jathay xenthu Heda ren lien," (they thought their commander was dead), he moves his eyes forward to the gates once more. The irritation left his expression and was replaced with an amused one, "mo rav clar ze yeni," (they were ready for war).

Trip tightens her lips and swallows, "mweni je bajaneck." (sorry to disappoint).

By the time their small conversation had ended, they were at the gate leading inside. The shouts of the people inside were very loud, conveying just how angry and ready for a fight everyone was.

The gates were pulled open when the guards saw who was on the other side. The Jester trailed in like a parade. First Trip, then Harron, and the paladins and their leader followed.

All eyes fell on the commander as she comes to halt on the other side of the gate. The shouting stopped altogether as she jumped off of her Jester. She could hear the clobber of other feet landing on the ground behind her as everyone followed her lead. She held onto the Jester's reigns as she looked over the crowd.

The tears warming up behind her eyes were pushed even farther back then they were before. She recognized so many faces that she never thought she'd see again. And while she was happy to see them all and know everyone was safe and alive, she was still scanning the crowd for one face in particular. One head of neon pink hair that can't be looked over.

"Parl," (guard) she calls out and holds the reigns of her Jester out.

A young man that looked like a walking rock (he was from a long forgotten Balmara killed by the empire) ran up to her immediately, not wanting to make her wait after the agonizingly long journey she just returned from. Once they were gathered in his hands, his stone heels clicked together and he used his free hand to salute her.