Streaks of Purple Saga Volume One, Heather Ray [i love reading .TXT] 📗

grinned slightly as he pressed a sequence of buttons.

After a few moments, a faint light flashed, and slowly the palace appeared like a mirage in the desert.

Home sweet home.

He descended into a small plain just beside the palace, and exited the ship. After briefly stretching his exhausted muscles, he walked to the cargo door, and typed in a command.

It was at that moment that Goldar exited the palace. Finster couldn't help a shiver as he watched the towering villain, who until recently had a pair of majestic navy wings to give him a more noble appearance.

A Titan without wings... it was surely a sight very few individuals have ever witnessed. A Titan warrior would rather die than be so crippled.
And from the simmering hatred in Goldar's crimson eyes, Finster was quite sure the golden warrior was resolved to do something about this ultimate humiliation.

The diminutive scientist cringed as the warrior came into arm's reach.

"Where is the cargo?" Goldar snorted.

Finster gestured to the cargo hold. "There's a large crate...."

Goldar nodded gruffly, stepping into the hold. He lifted the large crate, nearly the size of Finster himself, and began marching back into the palace.

"Get moving," he growled, "Rita is waiting for your report."

Finster nodded, hastily falling into step behind him.
Chapter Seven

Rita hummed cheerfully as she traced the small knife along the edge of the green wax, carefully appraising each wedge she created.

Her eyes narrowed appraisingly, and turned from her workstation to the diagram scribbled in a tattered page of a yellowed magical volume.
She smiled wickedly, chuckling to herself as she slowly continued her work.

“My Queen?”

Rita pivoted, a gleeful smile on her face. “Finster! You’re back!”

He nodded, bowing deeply to his mistress.

“And…?”

“Goldar has transported all the materials I have collected to my laboratory. I am ready to begin forging the Sword of Darkness. That is…whenever you

are, my Queen.”

Rita smirked, jerking a thumb to her latest project. “Just a moment, Finster. Once I’m done here, I shall summon you again.”

Finster nodded, daring to glance at Rita’s table. “A candle?”

“Not just any

candle,” she crooned. “This is a magic candle! I’ve discovered the perfect way to control my Green Ranger.”

It was plain to see the queen was pleased with her own brilliance. “I’ve imprinted Erol’s energy signature into this candle, so his energy is interminable connected to it. Once the candle burns out, so will the Green Ranger.” Her smile transformed into a malicious smirk. “If he gets out of line, I shall light the candle. Within minutes the Green Ranger will be reduced to the weak little husk of a human he once was.”

Finster nodded, clearly impressed. “An excellent strategy, my Queen.”

The witch nodded energetically, turning back to her project. She couldn’t contain her enormous pride at her seamless plan. “You know, he actually had to touch

the wax. He had to imprint his energy into the wax for it to bond with him.”

“How’d you get him to do that?” he inquired, honestly curious.

“Simple. I gave him a little lamp. He was so suspicious about that gift, he didn’t even notice the oddity of drinking out of a waxen cup.”

The scientist smiled in appreciation. “Very devious, my Queen.”

Chapter Eight

A prickling of ionized air gave Zale all the warning he needed. Without hesitation, he ducked behind a large boulder and raised his arms protectively over his head in anticipation.

The explosion was almost deafening, and as he had suspected, bits of debris reached him.

With a sigh, he brushed off the dust and continued down the narrow pathway. She wasn't yet in sight, but the strange purple energy she manifested was.

"Kreia!" he called, "Unarmed man approaching!"

In response, the flying shards of debris ended. Zale smiled, quickening his pace toward his teammate.

At least she isn't completely irrational,

he decided, in an effort to look on the brighter side. She could've vaporized me for intruding.

By the time he reached the lower plateau that served as the Purple Ranger's training ground, he was nearly out of breath. Still, what little breath he had caught in his throat when he met the harsh black scowl of the young woman.

She glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. And even though she wasn't actually using it, her magical energy hovered around her body like a cloud of pulsing light.

Kreia stared at her leader almost scornfully, her once large, trusting eyes narrowed with impatience. "There is no news of Erol, so what brings you here?"

"I thought I could help you train," Zale offered, "It's always easier to improve with assistance."

Kreia snorted. "You can't help me."

"But you do

need help," Zale pointed out, bolding taking a seat on a tree stump, "You asked Regita for help today."

A small smile pulled her lips, but there was no humor in it. "So Linis listened in on my visit with my uncle."

Zale shrugged innocently. "It's not like you've had any conversations with the rest of us," he pointed out, "We've all been deeply worried-"

Kreia turned to face him fully. Zale unconsciously leaned away from her.

"Don't worry about me," she muttered, "I can take care of myself. And when the time comes, I'll take care of Rita as well."

"Not alone," Zale commanded, rising from his seat and setting his powerful gaze against her own. "We are Power Rangers, Kreia. The most important lesson Zordon and Regita taught us is that we are a team. When we are united, there is nothing we cannot accomplish, but when we insist upon fighting alone, we succumb to the evil forces we face. Think about it! If Erol had only kept that lesson to heart, he never would've been abducted."

Kreia bristled at that comment, her upper lip curling into a snarl. "Do not

talk against Erol!" she growled, "He is not here to defend himself!"

Zale folded his arms, his usually warm gaze narrowing into chips of blue ice. "I love Erol," he reminded her, his tone defensive, "Not in the same manner or magnitude as you, but he is my brother now. I want him back too, but I won't blind myself to his error. Mistakes are to learn from

, Kreia, and we must all learn from his. He faced an unknown threat alone, and refused our help. He even wounded Kazu, expending his energy against an ally. Then, he dared challenge Goldar, Rita's mightiest soldier, all alone, and distant from the rest of us. If he hadn't let his anger run away with him, he would've realized the trap he had fallen into. If we were present, he would've have been whisked away! And now, will you make the very same mistake, and run off to the moon alone to try and avenge him? What chance does one

Ranger have?"

"I'm no ordinary Ranger," she stated icily.

"There is no such thing as an 'ordinary' Ranger," he countered.
Zale watched as her energy brightened. "No, Kreia... anger isn't the key to your whole strength."

Kreia stiffened. "What do you know about one's 'whole strength'?"

"I know that anger is not

the path to take. Anger clouds judgment, drains one's very soul, and warps the senses. Acting out of pure anger is like walking through life with blinders on; you can't see to the right nor the left, only straight in front. While this may have the illusion of focus, it prevents you from seeing the whole picture. You may walk into a trap lying just outside your field of vision. How can you explore when you cannot turn your neck?"

Kreia cocked her eyebrow. "You've spent far too much time with Sener."

Zale smiled at the observation. "Poetry is about expression, Kreia... and I hope I can express to you the dangers of taking all responsibility upon yourself. I am not a prophet, but I know where this is going: if you attack Rita alone, no matter how powerful you are, you will never return."

"And what would you have me do?" she challenged, "Sit around and wait for Rita to attack us?"

"No... we wait until we have definitive plan of action. While you've been out here venting, Cherise has already identified the approximate location of the palace. It shouldn't take more than a few days for us to discern the best attack strategy, and if she hasn't attacked us by then, we can take the battle to her."

"And what about Erol? Should he just sit and wait for us?"

"If he has survived four months as Rita's prisoner, he can surely last a few more days."

Zale then turned his gaze back toward the Command Center. "The rest of us are working out a strategy using the data we've so far compiled on the palace. We would welcome your input."

Kreia sighed, her gaze sliding downward as she turned the proposition over. "I'll... think about it," she decided, "I need a few minutes to work off all this energy."

Zale nodded, approaching the Purple Ranger. He cradled her shoulder in his hand. "Remember, Kreia... your whole strength isn't just exerting yourself to the limit. Rather than exercise your body, meditate on it.

Allow your intelligence to help you solve the puzzle."

He then kissed her forehead. "Please, Sister... let us help you."

Kreia's eyes widened in surprise at the open display of affection. Slightly puzzled, she watched Zale turn to leave. He ascended the small pathway back to the summit of the cliff, not once turning back to her.
The Purple Ranger pursed her lips, tears wetting her eyes. For the first time in quite a while, she didn't try to fight them.

Was she mistaken in her plan of action? Could she find her whole strength alone? Or was it in the nature of the Power Rangers to rely upon one another?

There never was only one Power Ranger. And their most powerful attacks were always combined efforts.