Legends tell, after the First Intergalactic War which stroke planet Earth, the Paladins of Voltron, chosen by the forces of so valued Lions of Voltron, have faced fantastic events in order to liberate the remaining inhabitants of the immense Universe. The reader might believe them or not. This is a rather legendary history, none other than the truth
A peculiar creature left by the evil side has led the Paladins to find their biggest and final antagonist: an enraged and desperate mother looking for her lost son. With her name being Honerva, she couldn’t hold the uncontrollable maternal force within her core telling her to seek revenge. And, as a true strong woman, reasoned by her generous feelings towards her prince, was egotistical enough to put all of existence in danger of extinction.
Making use of her son’s previous secret empire, known as The Colony, where outraging acts were practised to exploit energy from the supposedly perished Altean race, as well as of many other lively planets and the old Paladins of Voltron, Honerva gathered spectacular amounts of quintessence, a kind of energy humans, from their minuscule planet, will never be able to fully comprehend.
To properly understand the following events, one must know about Oriande. It is an ethereal mystical realm located inside the white hole of the Patrulian Zone, main colours being lilac, pink and glowing turquoise. After a meticulous work of orientation with the right instruments, only those possessing the Mark of the Chosen should be capable of entering this sacred place, home to the best knowledge of Altean alchemy. This place was guarded by a majestic White Lion, which would attack those deemed chosen as a final trial to reach the road of quintessence methods. The ones who would fully surrender themselves to the attack could proceed to receive the knowledge without the danger of it falling on the wrong hands.
However, ever since Honerva was able to venture in it for the first time, the unbearable radiation exuded by the white hole ceased to be a problem for the unchosen. And so, she proceeded to commit the strongest of sins: kill the White Lion who once rejected Lotor, her son, in order to retrieve him back from the quintessence field where he was trapped. Due to pure hurry and worry, she was blind enough by the bright light of the Lion to not visualize the terrible consequences of her acts. Simple Altean and Olkarian concepts may ascertain clearly: every little thing is made from the same energy which fuels the thread of realities, interconnecting all that exists: living beings, species, races, knowledge, beliefs, willpower, memories. All are dependent of each other, all producing energy which keeps the Universe stable. If one source happens to be weaker, the balance has to be recalibrated until normalization. Therefore, if the main point of equilibrium of a race’s knowledge, science, history and civilization perishes, consequently bringing the respective race to an end, the whole diversity of the Universe will get shaken by the irreversible loss.
Don’t ever mess with the heart of a mother. One must not forget she was not an ordinary one. Never is a mother just ordinary if we think about such. Corrupted with power and carrying a surreal obsession with her kid, her messiah, her god.
The Paladins could do nothing facing this merciless spectacle. One of the members, Allura, as an Altean, was losing her energy at a worrying rate. The one woman, daughter of the fallen King Alfor, possessor of great quintessence power, a Chosen One and connoisseur of Oriande’s secrets, was completely static, yet screaming uncontrollably, having hallucinations and visions, until a small black entity sent from Honerva penetrated in her. The only thing the other four Paladins recall is being covered by spiralling darkness. Truth was, all the realities started interfering with each other, overlapping and bending, creating a scary scenario of the Universe being torn apart and quickly losing its illusion of time.
Through almost unbelievable reports of this deadly experience, it was incredibly hard to arrive to a proper explanation of the events. Thanks to proper analysis of ancient alchemy and various theories on the fabric of the cosmos, it’s possible to elucidate our minds over a calamity of this nature.
In reality, it exactly has to do with realities. One is only sure of the information they assimilate through their senses. One is not sure of what the other thinks or believes, is not sure if the world the other sees has the same colours and textures, is not sure with how much intensity the same thing affects the other. Over the course of our unsure life experience, we learn every being is different and that such must be welcomed in order to keep the Universe interesting, diverse and stimulating. Therefore, we can conclude that every single being has its own reality, or, at the least, its own interpretation of it. Those individual interpretations, every single one producing and transmitting energy, are threads which structure the fabric of the harmonious cosmos.
The Altean quintessence prevenient from the Lions of Voltron had brought the Paladins into Honerva’s thread of reality, her mind. As they arrived to the surface of the obscure space, four of the five Paladins were sucked under. The Black Paladin, Keith, used all of his strength to not let his companions sink in, though it was no use. The dilemma of why he was the one left out was convulsing in between his useless worry for his comrades. Meanwhile, the other Paladins found themselves trapped in another layer of the psyche. Before they could wonder where they fell in, unrecognizable shadows began to fight them. It started to become clear they were the Paladins of Old, or better, their souls trapped deep inside by Honerva as to not interfere with her thirsty plans she had executed in the past. It was a horrifying image, that of the great and honest antecedent Paladins, being appropriated by her mind to represent the corruption of her heart.
As Keith engulfed in his frustration, the only thing that could distract him was a tall, unstable dark image, outlined by the same dark entities which led us to that ominous place. The young man started to recognize the features the flickering black lines were drawing. Could it be that the furious mother tried to trap her own son’s soul within her to guide him in the way of lust, the one which could lead to her wistful arms? Truth is, Keith felt pressure grow rougher as he walked closer to the dark figure. Not only his Galran traits were being excited and affected, his sensitivity to Altean energy was becoming unbearable, as his mind was starting to feel closer to the sour truth.
However, in a rapid turn of events, the layer that was keeping Keith separated from the others was ruptured, and they were now back together. Every Paladin with its respective predecessor, except for the Black Paladin, who would be Zarkon, Lotor’s father and Honerva’s husband, Keith’s predecessor. The souls of the trapped Paladins were released from Honerva’s mind corruption and were there, authentic, genuine fighters, ready to elucidate the new Paladins about what secrets were kept sealed in the past. Princess Allura couldn’t contain the tears after seeing her dad she once had to completely let go of for the sake of the Universe, illustrious King Alfor. As they shared knowledge, the fickering image of what was progressively clearer to be Lotor, was still there and they all saw it.
Keith was focused on all the information they were receiving, but his Galran form was becoming extremely evident, getting to the point of unbearable burning of energy all over him, especially over his chest. As he felt an urgent need to scream, the missing Paladin finally showed his presence: Zarkon. But the innocent, pure and forgotten version of him. How terrifyingly cruel it was of his wife to keep a sane version of him in her own head, available for any of her melancholy and possible regret. For memories and motivation for her own relentless methods of achieving candid and fair dreams. But no one kept the clean version of Honerva saved in a treasure chest, locked with the key of sensivity. For keeping legends alive, we can thank this epic character of History for.
Unexpectedly, Princess Allura, Paladin of the Blue Lion, symbol of chastity and hope after disgrace, violently put her hands on Zarkon’s head, making him conscious of all the atrocities he caused after his quintessence corruption. Taken by absolute anger, frustration, desperation, sense of unfairness, guilt and longing, all the feelings a mere advisor like me cannot fully comprehend, she couldn’t stand seeing the one man who killed all of her family and memories of home just standing there, happy in total ignorance.
The emergence of a Zarkon aware of his sins caused a complete disturbance in Honerva’s mind. Her treasure chest was opened and mercilessly stained into a thousand shades of the same tone of blinding black. With this, all her memories spiralled out of control, which let the Paladins be surprised with her earliest memories. Every single individual witnessed the thrill of two young parents yearning to see their son for the first time, choosing the name “Lotor”, honouring both of their cultures of origin. A husband who tried to save his wife using quintessence. The two perfect partners who got absorbed in an overwhelming amount of power which irreversibly corrupted them into the monsters they ended up being known as. And one single beautiful baby, born from a father and a mother infested by evil, who later turned into a genius mind contaminated by his parents’ tendencies, doing the greater good in the wrong way. Now, whose fault is this? We might never get to an answer.
With overuse of power and sentimental overexertion, it was impossible for Honerva to keep beings or souls inside her mental reality any longer. All the black entities connecting her to her slaves got dispersed, and the Paladins were back to an unrecognizable Oriande. Beautiful crystals with no radiance at all, ancient buildings falling into ruins, gravity losing purpose and a Sincline ship, the last one Lotor fought in. Honerva managed to recover it from the quintessence field and used her last energies to take her son out of the degraded ship. The lavender skin of the fellow had grave burns all over, and he didn’t seem to have any vital signs.
The mom caressed her son’s injured cheeks with all the fondness in her fading golden eyes, with his head laid on her lap. She passed her fingers through his weakened long white hair, untangling any knots, and felt a strong wholesome sensation in her heart, near her throat. What a strong impulse was growing in her guts, to simply do the most perfect braid with his beautiful hair. Just a little pampering she was never able to offer before. She selected three strings of hair, then, carefully tried to cross them, however, her fingers weren’t moving. She had no more energy to give or use. Dead crystal dust was falling on them. She or Allura could’ve tried to make use of their Altean powers to heal Lotor, but the fall of the White Lion had caused terrible energetic imbalance. Anyhow, her quintessence energy, after harvesting it for thousands of years, wasn’t enough for the ultimate moment of her life. Feeling dizzy, she lowered her head to meet Lotor’s forehead, but fell to her left side, in a careless foetus position, leaving her son’s head by her legs. After slipping from her lap, his face turned to the sky, the shiny dust falling on his rare eyelashes and blending with his mom’s tears, abandoned on his cheeks. Honerva’s lips were tensed. She probably tried to kiss his forehead, but just didn’t have the strength to show her love, maybe believing in the power of a miraculous healing kiss of a mother. One of her hands, which was trying to make the braid, slid with the fall and stayed on top of his left eye. She then barely pronounced: “You deserved so much better, my dear emperor”. Her red facial markings shone and progressively dimmed until they were coloured grey, out of life.
And so, the acts of pure despair a guilty mother executed in order to save her son, would be the ones which would make him perish in the end.
This image of a mom covering her son’s left eye, window of the secrets of the unconscious side of the mind, the impulsive and naked side of reality, the non-verbal mirror of hidden identity, has turned incredibly popular. Ever since the story became public, artists became inspired by the meaning of the gesture, especially in paintings of new symbolism and surrealism trends. But the emotions hiding behind the iconic image were very hard to handle. It was psychologically damaging for the Paladins to just watch such a heart wrenching event. None of them were able to hold back the tears or the irregular breathing.
However, given the realities chaos and the quintessence unevenness, the Universe was about to face inevitable collapse. In order to create balance, some sort of source of great Quintessence energy was needed to compensate the hole caused by the eradication of the mighty White Lion. Honerva’s energy had been taken away but it certainly wouldn’t be enough. The Paladins were determined to sacrifice themselves if they could possibly save existence one last time, even though no one’s life would suffice. Before they proceeded to commit any huge mistakes, the Lions of Voltron made themselves be heard and their power was rising, as Keith and Allura could feel just from their skin.
The Lions wanted to complete this last mission. The super weapons were made out of pure quintessence, holders of unimaginable power, endless potential and grand spiritual force. With connections to all five elements: water, land, fire, sky and forest; even the creator, King Alfor, didn’t know of their full potential until Voltron, a perfect junction of all the Universe’s components, was formed with the Lions. The elements would come together to create unique effects and attacks, and so, peace could’ve been kept alive with a well-rounded weapon representing all of reality.
With this, the Lions of Voltron flew right into the core of Oriande, where the White Lion would rest. For a moment, some say time stopped, as the ruins of the alchemy temples were returning to their original places and the crystals were growing at an impressive fast pace. Lotor, lying on the sacred ground, was shining as bright as the new vigorous precious stones. The crystal dust which fell on his skin earlier, made him look ethereal and transcendent, hard to believe, in fact. His skin was healing, the outlines of his jaw, nose and body were sketching a god-like figure, his hair was as white as Altean snow, and rectilinear lines were gleaming on his cheeks: The Mark of the Chosen.
Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe
in Voltron: Legendary Defender. History and Journey, as told by the crew