A distant sound rippled through the planar system, like the chiming of a bell. It was far away, but clear and distinct. Allura recognized the sound, though she had heard it only once before in her lifetime, and she had not been as skilled in magic then as she was now. Still, anyone who had some connection to the Astral Plane would be able to hear and recognize this sound. It was memorable, and it was unique.

Coran heard it, too. He had been in the dining room, talking cheerfully to the guests. When the chime rang through the planes, his voice ceased for a moment, then went on. The guests didn't seem to notice the falter.

Allura moved to the back storeroom where they kept the artifacts. It was a room without windows, so she lit the lantern on the wall to provide light. After a few moments, Coran extricated himself from the conversation in the dining room and came to join her. His eyes were bright and alive, his footsteps dancing eagerly over the floorboards.

He shut the door behind him, then joined her at the table, looking over the map spread below. "It's happened," he said, voice strained with excitement. He wanted to shout, but he could not allow himself. They had to remain hidden even now. "All five Guardians of Voltron have found each other."

Allura nodded. Her fingers were trembling as she reached out toward the little lion figures spread across the map. Green, yellow, and blue were already bunched together over the symbol of Garrison City. Now, she reached for the two lions on the edge of the table. Allura had expected to only be able to place one today, when she contacted Lance and the others this evening and met the new Guardian and saw the color of his lion.

Fate was kinder than she had expected. Those three wonderful young adventurers had discovered both missing Guardians, and now the party was complete. Allura lifted up the black lion, then the red, and placed them both in Garrison City with the others. "They did it," she whispered. Lance and Pidge and Hunk have followed their heralds and found the rest of their team."

"I can't wait to meet the new party members." Coran's hand found her shoulder and held on, warm and supportive. "I hope they'll both be ready to greet us when you call this evening. We knew the one named Shiro had to be a Guardian, from all of those dreams and portents, but who is the other one? Keith, Shiro's companion whose name they only heard once?"

"It must have been." Allura traced her finger over the nose of the black lion. "Guardian of the Plane of Air." She felt like the child she had once been, playing with colorful toy lion figures on the floor of her room in the Altean palace. She touched the red lion. "Guardian of the Plane of Fire." The yellow lion. "Guardian of the Plane of Earth." The blue lion. "Guardian of the Plane of Water." Last, the green lion. "Guardian of the Prime Material Plane." It felt immensely satisfying to name them all, even though this was elementary information that any child of Altea would have known, once upon a time. Now, only she and Coran were left to carry the knowledge forward.

"All five of the inner planes have their Guardians for this generation, now," Allura said. "Together, they'll begin to be able to touch the outer planes. I wonder which of them is connected to the Astral Plane? Which of them can shift through the doors and carry the others with them? It changes with each generation."

Coran squeezed her shoulder. "I couldn't guess. We'll have to wait and find out."

Allura turned to give him a brilliant smile. "You don't fool me. I know you think it's Lance."

Coran shrugged. "I know I'm biased. The boy has been a traveller all his life, what I can say. He probably feels a great affinity with the ocean between the worlds."

"We'll have to wait and see." Allura stood back, smiling down at the table. Then her smile slowly faded as all of the implications of this event began to sink in. "We weren't the only ones who heard that chime," she said soberly. "Everyone with some training to sense the Astral Plane will have felt it. The emergence of the Voltron Guardians in this generation is no longer a secret."

Coran nodded and took a step closer to her, offering the comfort of his solid presence at her shoulder. "I know. The Witch of the Void will know now, if she didn't already. And other actors may, as well. We'll have to begin their training in earnest if they're going to survive."

"But we don't have any of the old structures. No teachers, no trainers, no one schooled in how the Guardian magic works or how to develop and strengthen it. We're wandering blind in the dark, Coran. Neither of us know what we're doing. Neither of us can support them as we should."

"The lion heralds will help. Protection and guidance of the Guardians is their primary reason for existing."

Allura sighed and reached out to the map. She tented her fingers over Garrison City and the five lion figures, but even within the dome of her hand, there were gaps in the protection she could provide. There was no way to cover them entirely, no matter how she might wish to. "I hope it's enough."

She closed her eyes and faced forward, casting out with her magical senses rather than the physical. She felt the flowing energy of Sura City, this diverse and bustling meeting of paths, so bright and alive that it obscured the Altean energy that leaked from her and Coran. The day outside was bright, shining, full of promise. Ordinary citizens went about their day, traveling, talking, working, engaging in commerce. Living.

Allura couldn't see the five Guardians from here, even with magical perception, but she thought she felt their essence on the wind and the leylines, even so. Lance's sky blue adaptability, Pidge's emerald green growth, Hunk's warm yellow certainty, Shiro's cool black caution, Keith's ruby red passion. It might have been wishful thinking, but sometimes that was all Allura had.

The vision passed, and she opened her eyes with a gasp. Coran held her arm with both hands, now, trying to hold her up. His voice was urgent; he'd been trying to catch her attention from her for a while. Allura turned to him with tears in her eyes.

"I wish... I wish we could do more."

Coran's face melted from worry into grief and deep, deep understanding. "Me too, Princess," he said in a weary whisper. He pulled her into his arms, and they held on to each other for as long as they dared.

X

In another corner of the world, a workshop of a hundred mechanical treasures glittered in the sunlight that poured through the many windows, which also let in crisp mountain air and the occasional sounds of serious people talking outside. The master of the place tilted his head, listening to the wind. Was that a bell?

He moved to the front of the room and picked up one piece of clockwork from the many shelves, then another and another, looking for the errant bell. Something must have gone off prematurely, which irritated him to no end. He was a creature of precision and routine, and anything that threw him off by even the slightest margin could ruin his work for days.

After a long, flurried search, Slav stood back from his workbench and let out a strangled screech. He hadn't found the mis-chiming bell. Where could it be? He had to fix it before it drove him mad.

At the unholy sound that came from his throat, another person stuck their head inside his room. That young Blade, Slav couldn't be bothered to remember his name at the moment. He was a good sort, usually, staying out of the way when he wasn't required and running errands whenever Slav asked. "Master Slav? Are you all right?"

Slav buried his hands in his hair and pulled. "No, it bloody well isn't all right! There's a bell going off at the wrong time." He paced his work area, tugging at his hair and staring down at the floor. "Every single one of my clockworks must be precisely correct at all times, all times, or everything will be thrown off course, don't you understand?"

He rushed up to the Blade and pointed his finger up at him from his gnomish height three feet below. "I asked, do you understand?"

The Blade backed away with his hands in the air. "Of course, Master Slav, of course. Whatever you need."

Slav nodded in satisfaction and began pacing and muttering again. To his irritation, though, the Blade did not go away. He just stood there, tapping his forefingers together. "Um... Could I ask... What bell you're talking about?"

Slav stopped short in utter horror, then turned and faced the Blade. His arms flew up over his head and his voice came in a piercing shriek. "The bell! The bell, the bell, the one that chimed not on an hour or a half hour or even a quarter hour but had the pure audacity to chime for no reason at all in the middle of the hour like an uncivilized hooligan..." He stalked toward the Blade, waving his finger aggressively in front of him, while the Blade began to lean farther and farther back, but did not turn and run. Foolish, foolish boy.

"And it didn't even sound like any of my other bells, it had such a resonant quality, how dare that sound be so out of place in my workshop...!"

And Slav stopped. Everything, all at once. His movement, his speech, his thoughts. He stood still on the floor, staring up at the Blade in shock. The Blade blinked back.

"It didn't sound like any of my bells," Slav said, his voice quiet now. Full of wonder.

The Blade waited for a long moment, then gave him a slow, careful nod. "That's... Is that good?"

Slav scoffed and waved a hand, then turned on his heel and raced to the other end of his workshop. "It was different. It was different!" He laughed, wild and free. Everything was forgotten as joy burst in his chest. "It was different! It wasn't one of my bells!"

He danced around the workshop, hooting and hollering, working feverishly to unbury the piece of equipment that had long ago been set up under the observation skylight. He hadn't had cause to use it for a long, long time, but now, at last its purpose would be fulfilled.

The young Blade stepped cautiously after him, hands clasped together. "And what...what does that mean, Master Slav? Good news I could take to Leader Kolivan, perhaps?"

Slav laughed again as he shoved the last dust sheet off the planar scope under the skylight. He tested the gears, and it worked almost perfectly. Just needed a bit of oil here and there. He raced to the other side of the workshop to fetch the oilcan, almost running into the startled Blade, who jumped out of the way just in time.

"It was different!" At the machine, oilcan in hand, Slav spun around and gave the Blade his widest, most joyous grin. It was probably a bit disturbing, judging by the way the youngster started and stiffened where he stood. "Yes, yes, tell Kolivan all about the good news. The chime of the bell! The ringing of a new generation! It has happened at last!"

The Blade stood straighter, Slav's excitement finally, at long last, translating to him as well. "Then...you mean..."

Slav nodded furiously, then turned around and set to oiling the scope. "Yes! Tell Kolivan, tell the Blade of Marmora, tell everyone you can find! The Guardians of Voltron have come again, and soon all the world will know!"

Behind him, rapid footsteps sounded as the young Blade rushed away. Slav was no longer paying attention. Soon, his planar scope would be well-oiled and perfectly functioning again, and then he would finally be able to see.

Maybe this reality wasn't so bad, after all.

X

Far, far away, the chime of the bell reached a workroom in a tower, and a woman moved to the window to look over the parapet into the waste beyond. The work behind her went on, loud and grating on her ears, as she strained to hear anything else the planar winds might bring her. Haggar, the Witch of the Void, raised her hand in a sharp gesture, and the druids behind her ceased their chanting, waiting with held breath for her word of command.

No other sound came, but Haggar knew what she had heard. The Guardians of Voltron had gathered once more. She tsked and slapped her hands down on the windowsill, quickfire rage boiling through her veins. Five hundred years ago, the sacrifice of Voltron was the only thing that prevented her and her master taking over the entire world, as was their right. This time, nothing would stop them, not even Voltron.

Haggar turned her back to the window and found her druids waiting, staring at her fearfully behind the blank shapes of their masks. She stalked forward into their company, staring down at the formless mass in the center of the summoning circle. Another failure, another wasted spell. She cursed and kicked her way through the black misty thing, dispelling it. The shape fell to dust around her, showering the floor like so much worthless rain. Another gesture of her hand, and the summoning circle was spotless again, red-painted lines standing out in sharp relief against the gray stone.

She moved back to her position at the head of the circle and raised her hands. The druids stood at attention, watching. "Again," she said, voice sharp and precise. "Harder. Faster. More. We raise these servants of shadow to slay the Guardians before they slay us. If we fail, the work ahead of remaking the world will be much, much harder. We cannot fail. Again."

The druids turned to face the circle, and the summoning chant began.

The End

A/N: Sorry this took so long! There's a lot of foreshadowing in this epilogue, so I basically had to figure out what's going to happen in the rest of the series. I hope you enjoyed The Godsent Wanderer. It was a pleasure to write from start to finish, and all of your support has been absolutely fabulous. I hope you liked this (temporary) conclusion.

I will be taking a hiatus from this series while I write the final novel in the Boom Crash series. That one will be titled Burning Up, Burning Out, and it will start posting within the week. After that finishes, I'll work on this series again. The next volume with be titled The Broken Soldier. In the meantime I'm sure I'll continue writing chapters of On the Mend and other little one-shots as the mood strikes me.