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

After a few more minutes Kreia discovered her prime entrance: the balcony at the highest tower of the palace. She could sense powerful emanations from within... including a faintly familiar one.

"But, what would Erol be doing there?" she wondered, "No dungeon has a balcony."

She frowned, chewing her lip in agitation. "Well," she resolved, "Rita must know I'm here or she wouldn't have released her guard dog. So there's no point in being discreet."

With that, her ankle wings began to pound against the artificial air, sending her catapulting into the sky. She tore through the air, her fists brimming with focused energy lest she needed to make a hasty attack. She then flipped, landing gracefully at the edge of the balcony.

Her eyes narrowed as she gazed into the smoky darkness. She stepped inside cautiously, an aura of bright purple flooding the room upon entry.

"Welcome, Purple Ranger."

Kreia jumped, shivering at the chill voice that seemed to emanate from a dense cloud of blackness. She turned, holding her fist out in preparation.

The wall of smoke slowly ebbed, revealing a throne sitting high above slabs of marble. Sitting atop that throne was Rita Repulsa herself, smirking cruelly with her fingertips tapping against one another.

"Goldar wasn't much of a welcome wagon," Kreia spat, letting her anger and determination quench her building fear. She could feel the magical strength cascading from the sorceress, and it was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

"Yes," Rita sighed, "I suppose the simpleton has outlived his usefulness. It matters not... I have a new champion. One that will fight you to the death in defense of his Empress."

Kreia scowled, missing the meaning behind those words. "I'm not here for you," she muttered, "I'm here for Erol. And I'm not leaving without him."

Rita chuckled, snapping her fingers.

A figure stepped out of the shadows behind the occluded throne. "Then you're not leaving."

Kreia startled, staring in open shock as he stepped down from the platform with exaggerated slowness.

His uniform glimmered in the faint light, a deep emerald green. For some reason, he seemed more luminescent than before... as if he glowed with raw power.
Kreia was completely mortified. She felt the anger billowing off him like smoke from a fire. The intensity of his fury was overwhelming to her sensitive mind.

He stopped before the throne, folding his arms and standing with his legs set apart. "You face me now, Purple Ranger."

Kreia took an involuntary step back.

“Ooo, now it’s getting good

! Did you see the look on her face?!”

Baboo rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, but neither did you, Blueberry! She’s got a helmet

on!”

Squatt grimaced. “Yeah, well…I can imagine the look on her face! And man oh man, what a look

!”

The short alien then leaned closer to the small window, cheering excitedly as the Green Ranger’s outstretched arms began to glow.

Baboo, unlike his companion, found he couldn’t enjoy the match. Sure, it was intriguing to see the Green Ranger face off against his former partner. But the Green Ranger would always be dangerous.”

Squatt guffawed. “Stop worrying so much! Rita knows what she’s doing! And no that the Green Ranger’s on our side, we’ll finish up this dirt ball in days! And you know the best thing? We’re finally off guard duty!”

Baboo suppressed his dread long enough to grin at that.

“Good point, Squatt,” he admitted.

Nothing could be worse than guard duty…right?

The face-off was excruciatingly long, in Rita's opinion.
The Purple Ranger's mind was so muddled by the situation that she couldn't even move. That was obviously a good thing... but it seemed the Green Ranger was too absorbed in relishing the moment to take advantage

of it.

Rita groaned, leaning her head against one hand in absolute boredom.
"Are you just going to stare

at her all day?" she growled.

The Green Ranger's hands fell from their folded position, his fists opening as he slowly maneuvered them to arm's length. "Of course not," he sighed, with no small amount of disappointment, "I just want to enjoy this."

Kreia was still too overwhelmed to offer any defense, even after she saw the green energy gathering at a point between his outstretched hands.

Moments later, without the warning cry of the attack's name, a massive Dragonheart Pulse slammed into her chest, knocking her clear off her feet and embedding her into the far wall. The impact forced a cry of agony from her throat, and once the energy had subsided, she remained depressed within the hard stone.

Kreia breathed heavily, gravity finally taking effect and dropping her to the floor in a broken heap. Her body trembled as she tried desperately to orient herself. She heard the cool laughter float toward her, mocking her brutally.

She was in unspeakable pain, but she couldn't quite tell whether it was the Pulse that caused it, or just the fact that Erol... her love... had been the one to inflict it; and to mock her afterward.

"And I thought you'd be the biggest challenge of the Rangers," he sighed, "but you just can't even defend yourself. It's a shame all that torture Regita put you through didn't pan out, Kreia."

While the Purple Ranger's thoughts were hazy, the grim significance of her opponent's little speech didn't evade her. She gazed hard at the emerald knight, who hovered above her like a bad omen.

"You... you remember who I am," she noted, her voice weak with disbelief.

"Of course," he confirmed, his hands falling to his hips. "What? Did you think Rita erased my memory to force me into fighting you? Trust me, Kreia, she didn't have to. If she'd erased my memory, she'd have taken away the primary fuel of my power... my hatred of you

."

Kreia bristled, a tremor of anxiety shocking her body into awareness.

She dragged herself to her feet, clenching her fists with determination.

"You can't mean that!" she shouted with renewed strength, "You can't hate me! Rita's... done something to you!"

The Green Ranger shook his head. "No, she didn't do anything to me... but give me true Power. It was you who betrayed me, who turned your back on me for the sake of that decrepit old man, throwing away all we had together without a second thought. And then, all of you abandoned me for four months

, while I wasted away in a dungeon."

Kreia forced back the bile that crept up her throat. All that she had done to Erol had eaten away at her very soul for the entire duration of his ordeal... but she never dreamed he would hate her for it.

"Erol, it was Rita

who imprisoned you," she reminded him, trying to calm her frantic mind with great effort, "If you should want to avenge yourself against anyone, it should be her."

He shook his head again, and slowly moved closer. "No, Kreia," he said in a soft, menacing tone, "You're not getting off that easy..."

And with that, his leg jumped straight toward her in a fierce kick, connecting right at her chin. Kreia's head jerked back with jarring force, knocking her back once again. She crumpled, but struggled to her feet again.

"I see you're not a total disappointment," he reflected, "That kick will probably sever Linis' head from his shoulders!"

Kreia grew considerably paler beneath her Ranger armor. "You may have reason to be angry at me, but Linis hasn't done anything. Nor has any of the others." She rose to her feet, balancing her body on the balls of her feet and lifting her arms defensively. "This is between you and me."
The Green Ranger took a fighting posture of his own. "I agree," he decided, "It always has been."

After over half an hour of flying punches, kicks, and sweeps, Rita decided that they were more or less evenly matched in terms of physical ability.

It was surprised, considering the Purple Ranger’s short, smallish frame. But then again, the Green Ranger was quite lithe himself. Neither were by any means the greatest fighters on the Ranger team…that was without a doubt the Yellow Ranger, with Red coming in a close second.

Still, it was immensely enjoyable to watch.

Rita hovered at the edge of her seat, gripping her armrests tensely. Her wicked smile widened when one of the Green Ranger’s furious jabs connected, passing Purple’s defenses and embedding his fist into her abdomen right beneath the peak of her protective gold shield.

Once he had an opening, Green pressed it. He followed that jab with another, smashing into her body at the exact same location. Purple screeched as her ribs cracked, and stumbled forward once Green moved out of