Corrupted Shields

by BlakeCorman

Rating: mature
Tags: Original Character, Tempest Shadow, Sphinx, Science Fiction, Profanity, Adventure, Rumble, Violence, Crossover, Death, Human, Doctor Whooves, Anthro, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 18666

Not all men are created equal. But some men can make themselves greater. And yet others can take that greatness and twist it into corruption.... [Displaced]

Lord Drakkon has seen the stars and captured them in his iron grip. Worlds have fallen to his power, power great enough to attract the attention of even more powerful beings. As one such being approaches him with a business proposal, the conqueror of worlds thinks back to another time. A time before Lord Drakkon, before the people of so many worlds bowed in his presence. A time when his name was Kyle Fawkes...

Yet another Displaced story. If you don't like Displaced, don't read... or do if you like torturing yourself, who am I to judge? This one will be a bit shorter than the others as it really isn't supposed to be its own story. More like a setup... Anyway, enjoy!!!

Published 2018-03-27 18:50:07 UTC
Last updated 2022-01-26 16:58:45 UTC

Prologue- Any Place But Home

Corrupted Shields

Prologue-

Any Place But Home

Why? Why did I take it? A question that had burned for ages within the mind of Lord Drakkon, and one he would ask himself for even more decades to come. Why did I choose to leave home? Why did I let myself become Displaced? Why, why, WHY!? The man put the white knuckles of his glove against the side of his white and gold helmet. How long had it been since he’d actually felt the material against his skin? He gave a quiet sigh and looked back towards the brown coated, weaselly figure that stood before him.

He was only half listening as the being, a Displacer, tried to convince him of some hair-brained endeavor. Something about another ranger and a… navigator? Drakkon just gave another small sigh and kept the red visor of his helmet trained on the figure as he let his eyes take on a bored expression.

I’ve already conquered hundreds of worlds, he thought impatiently to himself. What’s two “heroes” to me? He chuckled at that as his mind went back to a time he had tried to be a hero himself. How stupid. He frowned. Of all the worlds he had taken, there was one he couldn’t find. The only one he truly wanted above all else. His thoughts drifted, drowning out the fool in front of him even further until he was back, long before this whole “Displaced” business started….

Power Morphicon 2016. Kyle Fawkes walked the aisles with a bored expression on his face as his little sister ooo’d and aah’d at everything in sight. How a little ten-year-old girl could be so into Power Rangers was beyond him. He calmly readjusted the blue and white letterman that he’d gotten for playing wide receiver as he waded through the crowd after his sister. The teen thought back to why he was here but quickly dismissed the thought.

He’s getting help, he thought to himself. Just hold out for another month or so, and everything will be okay. Kyle came back to his senses just in time to see his little sister, Kira, run around yet another booth in the crowded hall. The young man rolled his blue eyes and hurried after his sister, not wanting her to get out of his sight again. He caught up just in time to find the young girl frozen in place and staring.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that, Kira?” He questioned, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder, only to be surprised as the girl latched onto him, giving small whimpers. The teen rolled his eyes again and sighed. “What's wrong now?” He questioned with the slightest bit of irritation in his voice.

The little girl only responded by pointing down the mostly empty lane. Kyle looked up and followed the direction of her finger to find a young man dressed up in a yellow and black costume talking to a vendor dressed as some sort of bug sporting a ragged brown cloak. Kyle watched them for a second before looking down at his sister. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked. “It’s just a couple people in costumes.”

The girl only shivered and pointed to the young man in the black and yellow costume. “That’s a Psycho Ranger….” Kyle’s look only became more confused as he looked down at his sister, his eyes rising to look at the man. Now that he took a closer look, the young man was probably closer to his own age, if not a year or two older than him, and the armor he wore did have a distinctly more… angry, more twisted look to it than many of the other cosplays he had seen throughout the day. Shifting his gaze, he looked at the person behind the table, a merchant of some kind, as they handed a wrapped bundle of some sort to the blonde cosplayer.

Kyle felt his body give an involuntary shudder. There was a sort of… shrewd aura to him, something that just wasn’t right. The athlete watched as the other young man unwrapped the cloth and start as he unwrapped a helmet. The gray-eyed cosplayer never looked up as he spoke a few words to the merchant who was slowly beginning to raise his hand and fingers. The young man looked up and said something else only to be cut off by the seller’s snapping fingers. The costumed man’s eyes drifted closed and he began to tilt backward falling straight through a hole that seemed to carve itself out of thin air.

The portal swallowed the young man and closed as quickly as it had opened, Kyle’s eyes widening at what he had just witnessed. “What the…?” He trailed off, trying to step forward, only to be halted as his little sister held onto him, face buried in his t-shirt. The young man sighed and put a hand on Kira’s back. “You can look now, the psycho or whatever is gone.” Somehow….

The girl looked up and turned slowly to see the vendor quickly taking things off his table and storing them away. The little girl seemed to give a breath of relief and let go of him even as Kyle watched the merchant with weary eyes. “Stay here,” he commanded, moving around her before looking back and pointing a finger at her. “I mean it this time, stay here.” Without waiting for a response, Kyle turned back to see the man almost done putting stuff away, a single roll cart remaining. The college student hurried forward, catching the man just as he was starting to walk away. “Hey,” he said, coming to a stop behind the costumed vendor.

The man turned to look at him before seeming to grow a mite taller than him. “What?” The merchant asked, his voice impatient and harsh.

“What did you do to that guy?” The sportsman questioned, undeterred by the taller man’s glare. “One minute he was standing here and the next minute you give him a helmet, snap your fingers, and poof! He’s gone.”

“I don’t have time for this,” the merchant growled, starting to turn away.

“Wait!” Kyle exclaimed, grabbing the figure’s shoulders only to jerk back as the vendor whirled around to face him. “Just… wait…. Could you…” he paused and looked back towards his little sister for a moment before giving a sigh and turning back. “Could you do the same for me?”

A very inhuman growl met his request, the looming being stepping towards him, making him step back. “Listen, kid,” the merchant spat, any form of politeness or calm he might have had shriveling up. “I do not have time for you! I’ve got bigger fish to fry, much-needed plans to enact, so, if you do not mind… back. Off!” Kyle took another step back as the vendor whirled back around angrily and strode off quickly.

The young man merely stood where he was debating on whether or not he should follow the strange merchant, or simply go back to watching his sister. At the thought, he turned to look at her, only to sigh and put his hand over his eyes. Sliding his fingers down his face, he walked back towards the crowd of people, once again prepared to track down his sibling.

August 3, 2017, found Kyle Fawkes once more on his computer, typing furiously as he browsed the internet looking for the site he needed. “Ah-ha!” He exclaimed as he came across what he was looking for; the Power Morphicon home page. The young man had spent the last year trying to prep for this event, and for only one reason. He wanted to be Displaced.

After his encounter at the convention center, the college athlete had spent all his time trying to figure out what he had seen. He had eventually come across web articles and stories about people, usually in costume, being snatched up and disappearing at these conventions. He’d also come across an article about a stunt pilot going missing after a crash, but paid it no mind. With his discovery came a new idea, and with that a plan.

He’d spent what he could of his free time watching videos and buying up materials for DIY projects. The young man glanced over his shoulder at the completed work that he had chosen to be Displaced as. The green, white, and gold armor of Boom Studio’s Lord Drakkon hung on the inside of his open closet doors, the helmet, boots, and gloves sitting on a shelf within the closet. He had taken more than a few liberties in the design, giving it a bit of an upgraded look than that of the comics. He’d taken inspiration from both the armored look of the 1995 movie and the designs of the Super Power Beat Down web series, giving the suit a more reinforced and decorative look. He’d added a bit of green padding to the shoulders underneath the main chest shield, lining the padding in gold that seemed to connect to the gold armbands, said bands now sporting narrow strips of green along the top and bottom. Gold lining ran from the underarm straps of the chest piece, rounding out along the sides and thighs of the suit, ribs of gold connecting the front and back of the decoration as it ran down. Finally, he’d engraved the sharp, zigzag designs of his grieves and shin guards with green rather than leave them as thin black lines. Finally, the weapon holstered to the armor’s hip was neither the Dragon Dagger nor Saba, but a weapon of his own design.

The sword had the head of Black Dragon on the pommel, the figure being plated in silver to match the rest of the hilt which was just the same as Saba’s only with the Dragon Dagger’s valve buttons. The handguard started like Saba’s as well, the only noticeable differences being the presence of the Dragon Dagger’s mouthpiece and leadpipe that worked its way around the Drakkon power coin. The blade extended from there, the Dragon Dagger’s instrument/blade combo making up the backbone that the base of Saba’s blade would usually occupy while Kyle’s favorite addition to the sword extended far past that. In place of Saba’s short, broad blade was a longer, more slender blade that ended with a serrated edge to mirror the curved cutting edge. Somehow the athlete had found a way to worm the Sword of Darkness into the design, and the young man was actually quite pleased with his own cleverness.

The armor was a bit bulky but sleek and elegant and a great source of pride for the student, even more so than the wall of medals, trophies, and certificates that sat plastered to one side of his room. Kyle gave a huff and rolled his eyes, looking back to his cosplay, thoughts beginning to roll through his head. “...There’s no way in hell that Displacer will pass me up this time,” he murmured to himself… only to start as the loud sound of glass shattering downstairs echoed through the walls.

The sound of raised voices reached him from the first floor of the house and the young man darted out of his chair, advanced tickets to the convention completely forgotten. Kyle ran down the hall to the staircase, quickly taking a few steps down before jumping up and kicking off the wall, throwing himself over the railing. He dropped to the first floor and ignored the jar in his legs as he got up and cannoned into the kitchen where he found his mother and sister cowering in a corner while his father screamed at shouted at them, picking up whatever he could get his hands on and throwing it at the pair.

The athlete’s eyes widened. “Hey!” He shouted, running forward and grabbing hold of his father’s arm, drawing the angry man’s eyes onto him. “What’s going on? What’s happening on down here?”

Mr. Fawkes’s eyes narrowed and he jerked his arm out of Kyle’s hand, turning to completely face him. “These bitches,” the man began, taking a step forward while pointing behind him to his wife and daughter as they continued to cower. “Were plannin’ to kill me! All the pills they got the doctors to give me, all this time in the kitchen alone! ?I even caught one of 'em with a knife saying how they were gonna cut me up!” The man turned his eyes on his wife and daughter, a growl rumbling up into his throat. “Well… I’ll show them….” The man started forward once more, flipping chairs out of his way as Kyle’s mother and sister’s eyes widened in fear.

“Dad! Dad!” Kyle cried out, once more rushing forward to put a hand on his old man’s shoulder. “They were just cooking dinner! Just- damn it!- Dad, just calm down!” The older man froze in place and slowly turned to face his son, eyes narrowed.

“...You’re in on it,” Mr. Fawkes growled, teeth gritting together.

Kyle slowly pulled his arm back and put his hands up passively. “No, dad,” he said calmly. “Nobody’s in on anything, and no one wants to hurt you…. Dad, I need you to tell me, did you take your me-” The young man was cut off as a blur of motion cracked into his cheekbone, his father’s fist knocking him back into the counter.

“Dad what the he-” Was all the young man got out before his eyes raised to see his father rushing at him, a wild look in his eyes. Kyle only just managed to get his arms up and cover his face as Mr. Fawkes laid into him, throwing angry, misguided punches at the college student. Kyle was forced back into the counter again, the sharp pain in his back making him arch and open up his defenses just enough to let his old man get in. Mr. Fawkes’ fist slipped through his arms and slammed into his temple, knocking stars into his vision as Kyle felt his legs give ever so slightly. Sensing the moment of weakness, the older man pushed Kyle’s arms apart and tackled him, pressing his full body weight into his son as his big hands wrapped around Kyle’s throat.

The young man’s eyes widened and his hands came up, scrambling to rip off his father’s hands, the air to and from his lungs becoming less and less. Choking noises gurgled their way out of his throat as he thrashed, eyes darting from one side to the other, searching for anything he could use. Desperate, Kyle turned his eyes back on his father and pulled his fist back, slamming his knuckles into the side of Mr. Fawkes’ face only to receive another growl as the older man took one of his hands from his throat.

The two struggled against each other until Mr. Fawkes had a grip on his son’s hand, violently smashing it into the edge of the kitchen counter. Several loud cracks and snaps ripped through the air as Kyle let out pain-filled, choking cries. The older man ceased trying to crush the boy’s hand and returned his second hand to Kyle’s throat, squeezing even more powerfully than before, pushing forward with all of his body weight. Kyle’s eyes widened until they were practically bulging, his face turning a bright red that was swiftly changing as well. The young man threw his eyes around once more. A metallic twinkle caught his attention and without thinking, Kyle snatched the knife from the countertop… and plunged it into the side of his father’s throat.

The older man’s eyes widened in surprise as blood began to spray from his wound, coating the counter and Kyle in the red life-blood as he stepped back. He gave a strangled, gurgling cry as he reached up and clawed out the knife before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He slumped to the ground, hitting his knees before his body slumped back, a dark pool of blood growing out around his body.

Kyle’s wide frightened eyes watched as the life drained from his father, his breath heaving in his chest. His head jerked to look at his mother and sister, both of which were staring at him. The woman started when she caught his gaze, her arm protectively pushing Kira behind her. Kyle felt his eyes screw up in confusion, Mrs. Fawkes’ own gaze narrowing in response. Her eyes darted to the side before coming back to stare at him. The young man slowly looked away from his mother to see what it was she had glanced at. On the table, not five feet between them was the kitchen phone. Kyle’s face once more screwed up in confusion before his eyes widened in realization and he jerked back to look at his mother.

“Mom, no, wait-” But his plea came too late. Mrs. Fawkes’ was already at the phone, the fated three-digit number already dialed as she pressed the receiver to her ear.

“This is Dolores Fawkes,” the woman said into the device. “My son has just stabbed my husband.” Kyle’s eyes widened further and he stepped back. He looked between Mrs. Fawkes and his sister, seeing the devil in one and the fear in the other. With a quick motion, he looked to his father’s corpse before starting as his mother spoke again.

“The address is 367 Blane Avenue,” Mrs. Fawkes said, Kyle’s gaze searching her own… before he ran. “HE’S RUNNING, HE’S GETTING AWAY!” His mother’s shrill scream followed him as he streaked through the house. He turned to the side a bit, lowering his shoulder before he careened full speed into the front door, the flimsy door handle lock giving way with a splintering of wood. The sound of glass shattering followed him as he dashed off down the street, darting to the side and running behind a house as the sound of sirens filled the air, red and blue lights blinding the sky from down the street.

The receiver ran through the backyard of the home, jumping and pulling himself over the wooden fence behind it and into the next yard. He ran to the other side and jumped the fence again, taking off across another street, this time running up the road, opposite the direction of the sirens. After a few minutes, he once again cut across the street and through another yard, jumping another backyard fence twice over before ending in an alleyway. He turned again and doubled back for the second time.

Kyle ran and ran and ran, twisting and turning through the neighborhood he had grown up in. He even passed by the house his friend James had moved into when they were only eight or nine. God, had it really been so long since those days? When he was happy before his father got sick. The young man slowly ground to a halt, too exhausted to continue, putting a hand out to hold himself up on a wooden fence. He doubled over and gasped for breath for several moments before letting his arm give out. His shoulder hit the fence and he slid down to sit on the ground, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

He continued to heave for breath, staring at his shaking hands hanging off his knees, one badly bruised and swelling to the extreme. He hissed in pain and clenched his eyes shut as the adrenaline racing through his system began to die down. “Damn, kid, you look like you’ve seen hell.”

Kyle’s eyes shot up from where he sat to see a man leaning against the opposite fence, staring at him. The young man immediately went to jump to his feet only to wince and stagger as pain lanced through his ankle. He looked down to see his ankle swelling, too, probably twisted sometime during his mad run through the suburbs. “I honestly wouldn't do that if I were you.” The young football star looked up once more in time to see the man push himself to a standing position and walk forward. The man was clearly older with jet black hair streaked with silver, a scraggly goatee matching it on his chin. Purple eyes glinted at him amidst the scared face. A black trench coat trailed to the ground and covered his torso, only allowing the black cargo pants and boots to show through. Not to mention the large, gleaming sword handle resting over his shoulder.

“Just take a seat and relax, kid,” the man said, stopping next to Kyle and leaning against the fence only to slide down into a sitting position. “No need to be all worked up.”

Kyle simply stared at the stranger for a long minute before he finally sat back down. They sat in silence for several moments before the older man spoke up again.

“You really stepped into some deep shit tonight, kid,” he said, unzipping his coat and reaching inside. “No doubt the state’s coming after you, and whether you're found innocent or not, you'll never look at yourself the same again.” The man paused and drew out a cigarette and lighter, putting the white filter to his lips before lighting it. “And with injuries like those, it's going to be hard to keep playing sports, even if they heal correctly.”

The athlete simply stared, horrified at the man as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke. The young man opened his mouth to speak the question coming to his mind. “I’m no psychic if that’s what you’re about to ask.” Kyle snapped his mouth closed as the man glanced at him from the corner of his eye and gave a little chuckle before taking another drag from his cigarette. “Nope, not psychic at all. Just done this too many times before.”

Kyle’s eyes screwed up in confusion. “Done wha-”

“Sit in the dark with some kid, seeming to know all the answers when really,” the man interrupted, pausing to turn his full gaze on the young adult next to him. “All I know is what you want right now. Everything else is just the evidence that supports that fact.”

“Supports what fact?” Kyle questioned hotly, clearly beginning to become irritated by the man’s confusing words. The stranger only gave a little grin at that and turned away before taking yet another drag, the embers and ash at the end flaring.

The man took the cigarette from his lips much more slowly this time around, letting the smoke stream from his open mouth. “The fact that you’ve wanted to leave for over a year now,” he said, starting to stand to his feet. “And now… you need to.”

The young man stared up and the coated figure, eyes burning with questions. “How… how did you know that?” He asked, wobbly starting to get up as well. “If you’re not psychic and you know that… then what the hell are you?” The stranger turned his intense purple gaze onto the college athlete, Kyle only just now noticing how the irises shifted like deep oceans.

“A Displacer.” The words were simple enough, but the power that lanced through them was enough to stagger the young man. “And I’m here to give you what you want.”

Kyle stared up at him, hand planted firmly against the fence behind him to keep him standing. “You’re… a Displacer?” The young man questioned, the void-dweller nodding in response.

“I’ve been watching you,” the Displacer said, reaching up and lifting the sword belt over his head until he held the sheathed blade in his hand. “Ever since that day you first confronted that other Displacer… and now I’m glad I did.” The black haired being let his eyes fall to the sword in his hand before he drew the blade out, Kyle’s eyes staring at the sparkling edge. He flinched as the being twisted the sword until the handle was held out to him.

“Hold this for me for a second, kid,” the void-dweller said, the young man doing as he was bid. The Displacer raised the sheath and overturned it, holding one hand underneath the opening of the scabbard, shaking it a few times until something fell into his hand. Kyle blinked as he looked closer, the Displacer moving the sheath away to show off the morpher the athlete had made for his cosplay, the dark green buckle nestling the golden morpher in its embrace, the colored patterns shining green on the top half and white on the bottom, the Drakkon power coin sitting proudly in the center.

“How did you…?” The young man trailed off, taking the morpher as the Displacer held the device out to him. The coin in the center sparked with power as it came into contact with his hand, white and green electricity running over it.

The void-dweller seemed to grin a bit brighter at that. “It’s not the same one as the you made,” he explained, nodding towards the device. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Kyle’s eyes shot from the morpher in his hand to the being before him in surprise. “You’re serious?” the college student questioned, handing the Displacer’s sword back to him as he reached for it.

“Very,” the being said, putting his sword away and slipping the strap back over his head. “But know this. If you take this step now, there is no going back. You will be Displaced and once that happens, there is no coming back.”

The young man stared up at the Displacer for a few moments. “...It’s like you said,” Kyle said, taking the power buckle from its holder and putting the casing to his back where it attached itself to his belt. “There’s nothing else for me here.” He flipped the handle out and held it tightly in his right hand so the power coin was upside down before bringing it up to his left shoulder. “It’s morphin’ time!” He windmilled his arms until the power buckle was at his waist, left across his body before he threw both hands forward, twisting his right fist right side up before twisting his wrist so the power coin was right side up, his left hand held behind it with fingers spread out.

Green and white electricity shot from the morpher as the top and bottom flared out. “Drakkon Power!” The young man cried before the morpher turned into energy and slammed into the ground as he threw his arms down, the flash of energy it produced leaving Kyle in the Drakkon armor, a ghost of the helmet appearing to face him before it flared with energy and materialized on his head.

The morphing sequence was over in the blink of an eye, Kyle standing in the alleyway in the armor of Lord Drakkon. The young man clenched his fist and unclenched it, raising the gloved appendage to his visor. “This is…”

“Incredible.” The red visor turned to look towards the Displacer, who had only sat back and watched the spectacle with crossed arms. The void-dweller uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forwards. “...You remember what I said, don’t you?”

Lines of energy covered the helmet before it faded away from Kyle’s head. “I do,” the young man answered, reaching a hand out as the being stopped in front of him before taking his hand. “Does that mean….?”

“The deal is done,” the Displacer confirmed with a nod, taking his hand back from the shake. “And it is time for you to be on your way.” Kyle nodded and stepped back, ready for what was to come. However, as the Displacer raised his fingers to snap them together, the man’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Wait!” The void-dweller paused at the young man’s cry, lowering his hand a little. “I… don’t even know your name.”

The Displacer stared at him for a long while before a grin grew on his face and he closed his eyes and shook his head in amusement. “I am called Soldier,” the Displacer answered, opening his shifting purple eyes before lifting his fingers once more. “And you, Kyle Fawkes, have a ride to catch.” With that, Soldier finally snapped his fingers and a portal opened up at the student’s feet. The newly created Displaced looked at the portal before taking a deep breath and steeling his features. He lifted a boot and stepped forward, ready for what was to come.

“KYLE!” The cry jolted the young man’s gaze up in time to see Soldier turn towards the shrill shout as well. What the Displacer’s move revealed was a little girl at the end of the alleyway, eyes puffy and red while tear stains ran down her face.

The armored ranger stared at the little girl, eyes confused. “...Kira?” He questioned before he adjusted his step to go over the portal… only for the boundary of the dimensional gap to widen and his boot to slip through empty space. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, falling forward as he reached a hand out. “Kira!” He shouted as he began to fall, everything seeming to slow down as Soldier began to turn towards him and his sister started to run towards them.

He watched as the Displacer’s eyes widened, the void-dweller starting to reach his hand out and drop to his knees to catch the Displaced, all the while Kira growing closer. Kyle looked up at Soldier, desperately reaching his hand out with pleading eyes to grab hold of the lifeline the being was holding out to him. Their hands grew closer and closer… until their fingertips brushed against each other and time returned to normal. Kyle let out a yell as he fell, feeling his body tumble through the air so he could see out of the portal. His sister’s cry of, “Kyle!” followed him as he descended, vision fading away as he saw the girl try to jump after him only to be stopped by Soldier as the portal began to close….

Author's Note

Like I said before, new Displaced story. I won't be saying too much about it just because this is pretty much just a side project. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and if you have anything to add, leave a comment below. Until the next one, everybody take care!

Chapter 1- Nightmares

Chapter 1-

Nightmares

“So, what do you say?” Drakkon moved his eyes back to stare at the lanky Displacer in front of him, the being holding out his hand. The ranger was quiet for several moments before he let out a heavy sigh, raising his head and letting his hand fall back to the arm of his throne.

“You’re asking me to get involved in a fight that I have no business being in,” the armored man answered, voice bored. “I have kept to myself when it comes to other Displaced and my empire has prospered because of it. Now, you come into my home, stand in front of my throne, and ask me to go to war with them?”

“And why wouldn’t I?” The shifty Displacer questioned, boldly taking a step forward. “You’ve proven your power here in this universe. With an ally such as you, there would be no war, just a swift knife to cut off a few irritating strings.” The Lord grit his teeth together inside his helmet, his fingers clenching into a fist at the void-dweller’s brazenness. “Now, before you go and blow a gasket, I do have something to offer in return.”

Drakkon grew silent as he leaned back against his throne, relaxing ever so slightly. “Well…,” he murmured, his finger uncurling to tap against the arm of his chair. “I’m listening.”

The Displacer’s face lit up in a smile….

Kyle could feel himself falling, but that was all his senses could tell him. There was no wind rushing by, nothing for his eyes to see or nose to smell. He was falling through an empty, black void… and he didn’t know how long he’d been falling for. And the only thing he had left to keep him occupied during his seemingly endless fall was the image of Soldier holding back his little sister as she tried to jump in after him. He would’ve let out a sigh if he didn’t think he wouldn’t get his breath back. This is just great… Guess what they say about being careful what you wish for is-

Before the young man could finishhis thought, though, he felt something familiar come over him. The feeling of gravity tugging at his back. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as white light erupted behind him. This time he actually felt like he was falling, being pulled toward the light. A gasp escaped his lips as his eyes turned back to the void, hand reaching up for the Void that he suddenly felt a greater attraction to than the imminent unknown that had opened up behind him. But no matter how he tried to crawl his way back into the dark he’d grown accustomed to. Try as he might though, the light enveloped him and his world turned blinding.

The next thing he felt was the hard surface of stone colliding with his back, knocking the wind from his lungs as he rolled across the ground. He stayed where he was for several moments, gasping for oxygen to refill his lungs. The moments passed on without any change, Kyle slowly getting his breath back before he started to push himself up. He looked around to take in his surroundings, finding he was in some sort of throne room that had been torn apart. Two thrones, one backed by a banner with images of the sun, the other by the moon, sat at the back of the ruined room, rocks and rubble scattered around the floor. He leaned back and put his back to a particularly large section of tiled roof, wincing slightly at the soreness. “...Wonder what happened to this place...” he muttered just the sound of an explosion shook the room and jerked his attention up toward the ceiling just as a crash opened up another hole in the ceiling. More debris rained down, the young man pulling his legs in and covering his face, the obstruction only just allowing him to spot something white falling alongside the stone.

As the dust settled, Kyle dropped his arms and looked towards the rubble that had come to a rest, his breath catching in his throat as he caught sight of the white that had grabbed his attention. It was a woman in a pure white dress that stood out starkly against her sun-tanned skin. But the sleeveless dress trimmed in gold or the pure pink hair wasn’t what caught his attention the most. No, that honor went to the enormous and beautiful wings that sprouted from her shoulders, melding perfectly with her back. The man took a moment to collect himself before he noticed that the woman wasn’t moving, or even seemed to be breathing for that matter.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kyle started to crawl forward towards the unmoving body. He stopped just short of the winged woman, holding his breath as his eyes searched her. After a moment, a soft shudder ran through her as her shoulders moved ever so slightly, Kyle releasing his breath in response. “Thank god,” he muttered before he reached out and put a hand on her arm and shook her as gently as he could. “Hey… hey, are you okay? C’mon, wake up or somethin’.” A small groan emanated from the stranger in response to his, her hand scraping across the ground close to her head.

The young man let out a sigh of relief before that relief was ripped away from him as a wicked laugh sent chills up and down his spine. He threw a look over his shoulder, immediately wishing he hadn’t as his eyes widened at the new figure that had appeared. Just like the first, the new arrival was a tall, slender woman, but all affinity to humanity stopped there as a glossy, pitch black substance covered her from head to toe alongside silver-blue armor. Her slitted turquoise eyes stared down at him, a fanged smile sending another wave of shivers up his back. Slowly, the monster carried herself down to the floor on jet black wings, the cyan gemstone jutting from her forehead shimmering dangerously as her boots met the ground.

“And here I thought all of the guards had run off,” the woman said, her two-toned voice doing nothing to settle the man’s nerves. “What a brave little Earthling.” A cruel smile curled up her face as the gem on her head flared. Kyle raised a hand to cover his eyes as a flash lit up the room. When he looked back, a wicked-looking broadsword sat in the woman’s hand, the base of the blade twisting for several inches before straightening out into the main length. “Too bad you’ve come too late. The day will die with my dear sister, and you along with them.”

The serpent-eyed lady took a step forward, Kyle taking a step back in response only for his foot to brush against something. He looked down to see the woman in white still laying behind him. Every circuit in his mind froze as he looked down at the beaten woman, and after a moment, his scarred, shaking hands balled into fists and lowered to his sides. He looked up at the smiling face the stood opposite of him, eyes narrowing as her confident smirk twitched. “It is too bad,” he muttered, reaching behind his back where he felt the power buckle. “Too bad I didn’t do this sooner.” He pulled the morpher out and threw his arm to the side. “It’s morphin’ time!” He threw his arm up to his shoulder before punching out, his empty hand flaring out behind the upside down buckle before he twisted his hand right side up. “Drakkon power!” The top and bottom of the morpher flared open, the power buckle turning to energy and striking the floor in an explosion that blinded the room.

The dark woman covered her eyes for a moment, opening her eyes to find Kyle suited up in his armor. “What kind of magic is this?” The woman growled through gritted teeth as she raised her sword and the man in front of her drew out his own curved sword.

“Not magic,” he answered through his helmet as he lowered his stance and raised his own blade. “But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less!” With that, he rushed forward, and the first thing he noticed was that was much faster. Being the running back had made sure he could always move quickly, but now, with the power running through him, he could move! Kyle swung his sword horizontally to clash with his opponent’s blade as she parried the blow.

The winged-woman snarled in response, her blade sparking against his as she pulled it up, pushing his away. She rotated the swing and brought it back down, the ranger stepping back and leaning out of the way, spinning as the sword cut through the air in front of him. He twisted and once again brought up his blade, using his momentum for another horizontal slash. The dark being threw her gaze behind her, quickly pivoting and bringing her sword up to stop his, not waiting for the sparks to hit the ground as she pushed her blade up, catching his sword with her guard and tossing it up before she slashed down again. Kyle had little time to react, twisting his wrists and tugging in his arms to catch her blade on his, more sparks dancing off metal as they struggled against one another.

“How?” Kyle jerked his eyes up, teeth grinding inside his helmet. The corrupted woman snarled down at him, slitted pupils barely a slash in her gaze. “How can an Earthling be strong?”

Kyle grunted as his opponent pushed harder against him forcing him to push back. “Heh, guess us humans are just a tenacious bunch,” he answered with a half-hearted chuckle before he jumped to the side, swords sliding apart. He hit the ground and rolled, turning and bracing his legs under him as his opponent stumbled from the sudden absence of opposing force. The ranger cannoned his legs, rushing forward and thrusting his blade towards the gap between the woman’s wings. Time slowed and the slitted, cyan eyes of the sorceress moved to look at him over her shoulder, face changing from surprise to rage as she let go of her sword with one hand and started to turn to face him. The gem on her head began to glow and her hand lit up to match, the armored woman completely turned to face the ranger as his arms strived to drive the blade home. A loud boom filled the air and a beam of brilliant cyan light slammed into Kyle’s chest, launching him back and slamming him into and through the wall behind him. When the light faded, the young man could feel the heat rising off of his chest piece, the green, and gold shield smoking as pain ached through his back.

The ranger coughed inside his helmet before it lit up and disappeared, allowing him to breathe as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. A crunch drew his attention behind him to see the winged woman stepping up behind him, his sword now occupying her empty hand as rage filled her eyes. “Truly, you are a great nuisance,” she growled out before swiftly kicking him in the side to send him across the hall to slam into the wall again. The young blonde felt the air rush from his lungs, blood filling his mouth as his chin collided with the floor to bite down on his tongue. He gasped for air as struggled to get up, leaving a pool of blood on the floor from his wound. A shadow fell over him and out of instinct alone he jerked out of the way as his opponent drove her blade into the wall where his head had been.

The man primed his body, prepared to roll out of the way to put some space between himself and the dark woman in front of him. As he leaned and started to fire his legs, his own blade whistled through the air and embedded itself in the wall. He pulled his face away from the reflection of his eyes and was once again slammed into the wall as the winged sorceress buried her boot in his chest and pushed him back. “A pest like you should know when to lay down and die!” She said, driving her metallic boot deeper into his armor to emphasize her words.

Kyle gritted his teeth as pain filled him, his hand raising up to grab her ankle and struggle to relieve some of the pressure. “Never really liked authority,” he joked as he felt something warm run down his chin. This only made the woman’s savage display of sharpened fangs even worse as her snarl deepened. She pushed down harder until the cracks spider webbing the wall spread even further, Kyle sinking deeper into the wall as he felt his armor squeezing him. He pushed desperately against his adversary’s leg until a snap echoed through the hall. “RAAA!!!” The young man screamed in agony as a rib snapped in half in his chest, the dark woman’s snarl turning into a twisted grin.

Metal scraped on stone as the woman pulled the blades from the wall and crossed them over his throat like a pair of scissors. “Sweet nightmares,” the sorceress purred darkly as Kyle felt the swords start to bite into his flesh, looking up into the gleeful cyan eyes. The dark woman’s arms tensed, blood trickling from the cuts that were beginning to claw their way into his skin. Then, like a shot from a canon, a boom filled the air and the dark sorceress’ body folded to the side as a blur of white, gold, and pink rocketed into her and launched her bodily down the hall.

Kyle’s sword clattered to the ground even as a new wave of blood splashed from his neck, his hand flying up to hold his throat. The wounds weren’t deep enough to cut into his arteries or windpipe, but still, they burned with pain as he peeled himself out of the hole he’d been driven into.

“Here.” The young man looked up to see the woman that had been knocked out earlier holding a hand out to him. He reached up and took the offered appendage, groaning a bit in pain as he was hauled to his feet and grabbed his sword on the way up.

“Thanks,” he grunted, stumbling a bit to regain his balance. His gaze looked down the hall where a cloud of dust was only just beginning to settle. “...Who… what is that?”

The woman beside him frowned and followed his gaze. “That… is Nightmare Moon,” she answered. “She plans to cast this world into eternal night… after disposing of me.”

Kyle nodded his head, wincing a bit as more blood seeped out from his wound. “I’d ask what makes you so important but that’d just run down the clock,” he murmured, lifting his blade and grabbing the hilt in both hands. “That said, do you have a game plan?”

“I wouldn’t call this a game,” the winged woman replied, glancing at him as a flash lit up her hand, a rapier appearing there. “However, I do have a plan. It will take some time to get together, though.”

“Okay…,” the Ranger murmured, tensing up as he heard rubble shift down the passageway. “What do you need from me?”

“I’ll need a distraction,” the lady said, taking a step back as the dust settled and a shadow loomed. “And someone to hold her down so I can get a clear shot!” With that, the woman ran back into the room where she’d crashed. Kyle watched over his shoulder as she went before turning back to face Nightmare as she stepped out of the rubble, eyes narrow and glowing with magic.

“Shit,” he muttered before rolling his shoulders and nodding his head for a moment. “Guess it’s back to action.” His helmet rematerialized just in time for him to throw his sword up and stop Nightmare Moon’s blade as she swung it at his throat.

“I’m going to tear your legs off!” She shouted in his face, fangs flashing. “And then I’m going to make you watch me kill that bitch slowly! Only then will you die!”

“You sound pissed,” Kyle grunted, blades still grinding against one another. “Maybe you should take a motherfuckin’ seat!” Planting his feet, he pushed his blade straight up, knocking her sword up. In the same movement, the ranger leaned back and raised a boot before slamming it into her chest. Nightmare rocketed back as shock waves filled the air. Putting his foot back on the floor, he tensed and raced forward, bringing his blade back horizontally and slamming it into his opponent’s as she recovered.

Can’t give her a second, he thought as he drew his blade back and swung it down once more before rolling to the side and once more swinging at her. The winged sorceress twirled her blade expertly and parried his slash, throwing his sword out of her way as she slashed down. Kyle threw his weight backward and rolled back to his feet as the strike cut into the floor. He pushed forward, rushing as he pulled the blade back. Nightmare snarled as he rushed her before her eyes went wide. Reacting quickly, she dodged out of the way, leaving her sword in the ground as the ranger thrust at her, the edge sparking off her chest piece. Planting once more, Kyle spun and slammed his heel into her stomach, tossing her bodily back down the hall.

Nightmare hit a wall and bounced off as rubble crumbled off and followed her. She thumped across the ground and rolled for several paces before coming to a stop. She looked up as the armored form of the ranger started down the hallway, sword blinking in the light. Her eyes widened as a shiver ran through her before her eyes narrowed. The jewel in her forehead lit up and her gaze fell from the man and to her blade down the hall. The sword lit up in her magic and she pulled her eyes back to her nemesis. The blade quivered and wobbled for a moment before jerking out of the stone, hovering up and turning until it pointed at the ranger’s back. The blade shot through the air with a resounding boom, moving faster than most could follow.

The man tilted to the side and shot his hand out, catching the hilt as it passed before spinning it and slamming it point first into the wall beside him. “...I’m getting real tired of this shit,” the ranger said, his hand slipping from the blade as he turned to face her again, red visor gleaming. Nightmare’s eyes widened once again as he stalked towards her, following his progress until he stopped in front of her. “Who was supposed to die here?”

The corrupted woman looked up at him with wide eyes. The man jerked his sword up, prepared to thrust it down only for Nightmare’s horn to flare as she thrust her palm up. The floor around her suddenly glowed and spires of stone launched up to slam into the ranger, carrying him up to slam into the ceiling. Rubble crumbled to the ground before Kyle’s body followed, slamming into the floor in a heap. Nightmare huffed for breath as a bead of sweat trailed down her face. A few moments passed before the winged sorceress got to her feet and started to walk towards her fallen adversary. She stopped on the edge of the pile of debris, hand crossing her body to hold onto a gash in her arm.

“LUNA!” The shout made Nightmare jump and turn to face the speaker, finding the woman in white standing at the end of the hall with six gemstones floating around her, each a different color with six cut into hexagons while the last and largest resembled a six-pointed star. “It’s time to end this!”

“About time.” Nightmare’s eyes widened as the pile behind her exploded, the ranger standing in the debris before wrapping a single arm around her and holding her tight as his other hung at his side. “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it now!”

The white woman lit up the gem in her forehead in a golden aura, the gems following suit before light wrapped around the display. The dark sorceress’ watched with a horrified gaze before she snarled and lit her own gem. “I refuse to go down by our power!” She yelled before a blast of dark magic poured out from her focus point and launched towards her opponent. A sad look crossed over the white sorceress’ face before it hardened and she thrust her hands forward and unleashed her own magic, light from her gem joining the beams of the other gems as they focused through the star which unleashed a rainbow-colored beam. The two beams slammed into one another and struggled for only a few moments before the aurora of color overtook its dark counterpart and surged forward.

Nightmare’s pupils shrank as the light rushed towards her before it collided with her and the man behind her, letting out an almost painful cry. Kyle gritted his teeth as his boots strained against the ground, helmet starting to peel away with patches of the rest of his armor. Suddenly, burning filled his mind and he screamed out as shadows seemed to stream from Nightmare. The pain spread through his head, his temples throbbing with each heartbeat. The man searched for an escape from the agony before his arm uncurled from around Nightmare and he dove to the side, out of the beam’s light. The dark sorceress let one last rage and pain-filled cry before the light suddenly cut off and surrounded her, condensing and suddenly shooting up through the roof. As Kyle rolled onto his back, he watched the beam travel up and into the moon before a flash formed a constellation of craters on the silvery surface.

The young man held his breath, waiting for… something. Seconds passed before several thuds drew his attention back down the hall. The woman leaned against the wall, six stone orbs littered at her feet. But what really caught the man’s attention was her hair, more importantly, the fact that it was no longer just pink, but instead had blue, green, and purple added to the collage of color. He stared for a long moment before he rolled over and started to get to his feet. He stumbled a moment before he got his feet under him, arm still hanging limply against his side as he started down the hall.

“You okay?” He asked as he stopped in front of the woman, the sorceress raising her eyes at his question.

A small smile flashed across her face before she answered. “I’m fine,” she replied, pushing off the wall slowly and standing under her own power. “Nothing a little rest won’t fix. Though, the same can’t be said for you.”

Kyle let out a painful breath in agreement as his armor finally dematerialized and left him in his street clothes. Suddenly, the man felt the strength leave him and began to fall forward only to be got by the shoulders by the woman in front of him. “I’ve got you….” Was the last thing he heard as black fog rushed to meet his conscious mind….

The streets of Kyle’s neighborhood stretched out before him, fog and mist turning the scene gray and dreary as he walked forward. He paid the shadows dancing in the corners of his vision no mind as he kept going forward, never faster and never slower. When he finally came to a stop, his nose almost brushed the elaborate glass that took up the center of a door. The door to his home. Without a second thought, the young man brought up his hand and turned the handle, pushing the door open as he stepped into the living room. He let the door swing on its hinges as he walked further into the house, ignoring the dark figure that darted down the hall to his right. He made his way to the kitchen and dining room, looking around at the pristine condition of the area.

Something creaked behind him and he turned his head to look up the stairs, a shadowy wisp shooting around the corner and just out of his sight. After a moment, he looked back to the kitchen and was yanked off his feet as something grabbed his throat. Kyle’s eyes widened at the bastardized vision of his father, blood covering most of his side as he was dragged backward and slammed into the living room’s coffee table. The pair struggled for several moments, Kyle kicking, punching, and scratching at anything within his reach as the older man continued to push down on his windpipe. Something flickered at the edge of his vision and Kyle’s hand shot out, grabbing and yanking his sword into sight before plunging it deep into his father's collarbone.

The apparition’s eyes rolled into the back of its head as dark blood pooled out from the new wound before Kyle kicked the dead weight off of him, his sword coming loose with a sickening squelch. The young man huffed for oxygen, his hand coming up to his throat where he met something wet, warm, and sticky. He brought his hand up to find blood staining his flesh. A scratchy, scraping noise that had been in the background, just out of acknowledgeable range, suddenly started to grow louder and louder, Kyle turning in place with wide eyes as he searched for the source. He spun and spun and spun and still found nothing as the sounds grew closer and closer, threatening to crush in and strangle him. The scratching grew to a crescendo, the man stopping with terror-filled eyes, bracing his footing and grabbing his blade with both hands only for the sounds to stop. All was quiet. Nothing stirred at the edges of his vision and nothing drew the quirk of his ear until a single, solitary creak echoed behind him.

Kyle whipped around and raised his blade with a roar before driving it down only to stop mid-swing just before the edge could bite into the mop of golden blonde and dark chocolate brown. The young man lifted the blade up and away, taking in the small frame, bright green eyes and slightly suntanned. His eyes washed over the form of his little sister as she stared straight ahead, seeming to look no further than his stomach. Kyle swallowed the bile forming in his throat before starting to stretch out a hand. “Kir-”

The girl’s jaw seemed to unhinge as a demonic scream ripped its way out of her throat, black suddenly filling her eyes as black liquid poured from the sockets and dripped from her lips. The scratching returned in full force as something pounded behind the man. Kyle swung to look behind him as black rushed to meet him.

Kyle sat up quickly, his labored breathing filling the air as cold sweat poured from his brow. He lifted a shaky hand and wiped at his forehead before the salty liquid could drip into his eyes. As his heartbeat began to return to normal, dull pain started to throb in his chest and unused arm. Grimacing in pain, the young man began to lean back until his head met the soft pillow it had been resting on before. Slowly, and being sure only move his neck, the blonde took in his surroundings to find himself in.

Multiple beds lined the white walls on each side, wooden frames accompanied by matching side tables. Windows sat in the wall after every other bed, iron candle sconces hanging off the wall at equal intervals. At the end of the room was a table and a few cabinets, one filled with medical supplies and the other with extra blankets and pillows. The rest of the room was mostly barren except for the single set of double doors that made up the only entrance or exit to the room. The man let out a sigh before turning his head and looking down at his suspended and heavily bandaged arm. His gaze shifted to his chest where he could partially see bandages covering his bare chest, and that’s when a thought rushed through his mind that made his eyes widen.

“Please be on, please be on…,” he muttered under his breath as he slowly lifted the blanket covering him. Bandages ran from the center of his torso all the way up to just under his armpits, but, and most importantly, his jeans were still intact and on. At least, as intact as the ragged holes in the knees would allow. He let out a sigh and let the blanket fall back down. “Thank god….”

A creak drew his attention back down the long room where the door opened. As he watched, the woman in white walked in followed by a blonde man in mostly black attire that consisted of slacks, a vest, a western bow tie, and a knee length coat with red trim on the inside. The only contrast to the black was the stark white dress shirt… oh, and his dark blue skin. “Good to see that you’re awake,” the woman said with a small smile as Kyle watched her and her companion approach with wide eyes. “You gave us quite the fright after you fainted.”

“Quite,” the male added, drawing the young man’s attention to him with a heavy English accent. Now that he was closer, Kyle could make out the gray-green of his eyes and the strange twinkle he saw there. “We thought you might have sustained a head injury as well.”

“Lucky me, then,” Kyle muttered, lifting a hand and rubbing his head once more before looking up at the rainbow-haired woman, suddenly noticing her height compared to her companion. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t end up with that head injury by the way.”

“You are quite welcome,” she replied, giving a small nod of her head before bringing her eyes back up. “However, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” This time, she gave a curtsy before straightening up and putting a hand to her chest. “I am Princess Celestia and this is the Father that runs the hospital, Peace Time.”

The blonde man gave a little chuckle before giving a light-hearted smile. “Please, just Father Time will do,” he said before gesturing towards his bedridden patient. “And what of you?”

The athlete stared for a moment, blinking at the information he’d been fed.” Um, Kyle Fawkes,” he eventually answered. “No fancy title or position, just… an ordinary human.”

Celestia gave a confused look. “A human?” She questioned, sharing a brief look at Father Time. “Forgive me, but we’ve never heard of a human.”

It was Kyle’s turn to look confused. “But Nightmare kept calling me an Earthling,” he said, confusion clearly worming through him.

“Yes,” Time said, stepping forward and lifting a finger. “An Earthling Pone.”

“Po… ne…?” The young man questioned, letting the word roll around on his tongue.

A short chuckle brought Celestia and Kyle’s confused looks to the doctor. “It seems you’ve stumbled upon someone not from our world, Princess,” he said before going over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out several sheets that the young man recognized as x-rays. Old, blurry, and not nearly as telling as modern x-rays, but still they got the job done. “If you take a look here,” Time held up the x-ray of Kyle’s arm, “you can see that the bones are far more slender than pone structures. When I first saw this, I simply thought of it as a skeletal disorder, but upon further inspection,” he took out a picture of the man’s rib cage, displaying three broken ribs, “our patient here seems to have only ten sets of ribs that are more spread out compared to the more compact rib cage of twelve that pones possess.”

Father Time paused and took the moment to let the information sink in as he put away the x-rays. “Either young Kyle here as extensive skeletal deformities,” he said, turning back around. “Or he is, in fact, an alien to this world.”

“That would explain his strange armor,” Celestia murmured, causing Kyle’s eyes to widen.

The young man sat up quickly, ignoring the pain that shot through him and reached his good arm around to the back of his waist, finding it bare of his power buckle. “Where is it?” He asked frantically, hand searching his lower back.

“Calmly, Mr. Fawkes,” Father Time said reassuringly, reaching under the table and bringing out the man’s white t-shirt and the dark green buckle that held his morpher. “Your effects have been well taken care of.”

The young man hardly let the doctor finish before he swiped his morpher from the pone’s hand and pulled it close to his chest, letting out a long, stressed breath. Celestia and Father Time shared a look at this, turning curious and worried gazes on their ward. “That buckle is quite important to you,” Time observed as Kyle took a moment to look the item over.

The patient was quiet for a moment before he answered. “It’s the source of my power,” he said quietly, hand squeezing the device until his knuckles were white. “I had to give up everything to get it….”

The pair of pone’s shared one final look before Celestia looked the young man an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, taking a step forward and putting a hand on the side of the bed. “I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean.”

Kyle looked up at the princess, his eyes searching the sympathetic gaze before he let out a small sigh and looked back to his morpher. “What it means,” he answered quietly, letting his hand fall to his lap with the buckle falling face down. “Is that I made the worst mistake of my life.” He went quiet again as his hand met his face. “My life wasn’t all that hard back home, I realize that now. Even with my father’s illness and my mother’s psychosis, it wasn’t that bad. I spent an entire year, one whole god damn year, distancing myself from them all for some stupid game. A game I didn’t know anything about. Now, I’m stranded here, three broken ribs and a broken arm, and my sister, my little sister that’s barely older than eleven, is stuck with a woman who can’t even tell her left shoe from a mouse half the time.” He stopped and took a shaky breath, letting his hand fall to his lap and turn the morpher back over.

The man’s eyes suddenly narrowed as the power coin glinted back at him. With a low growl, he ripped the morpher from the sheets and threw it across the room.The pones flinched as the device crashed into the and clattered away, a dead silence falling on the trio for several long moments. Kyle stared down at his lap, fist clenched as he grit his teeth, refusing to let the tears building in his eyes to fall. It wasn’t long, though, before movement in his peripherals caught his attention. He watched as the curly-maned pone walked over to the morpher, stooping down to pick up with a short grunt.

“Some are born great,” the Father began, straightening back and turning to face them again. “Some achieve greatness.” Father Time made his way back over to them, stopping at Kyle’s other side. “And some have greatness thrust upon them.” He held the morpher out to the young man as the ranger stared up at him with his mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t find his words. Slowly, his eyes drifted back down to the morpher, and, after a moment's hesitance, reached his hand out to take it back. Father Time gave a gentle smile and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Choice brought you here, and you will find a way to make that choice great. However, know this. You are never alone here. No matter what you need, whatever it is that may trouble you, the princess and I will be here to help you. And I promise that we will do everything we can to get you home in the meantime.”

Kyle looked up at the smiling pone for a long moment before his gaze turned to Celestia, the monarch flashing him her own little smile. The ex-athlete let out a small breath of laughter and looked down at the morpher in his hand, giving a small nod. “Thank you,” he said, looking back up at each of them with his own smile. “I promise I’ll try my best to do what I was sent here to do.”

“And what is that?” The solar princess questioned, a light tone in her voice as she looked down at her new ward.

Kyle smirked and lifted his morpher with a click of the device. “To protect those that can’t protect themselves.”

Author's Note

Have an actual chapter. As usual, leave anything you'd like to add in the comments and I'll you guys in the next one.

Chapter 2- Signals

Chapter 2-

Signals

The sound of groaning stone echoed throughout the small room, cracks beginning to form on the arms of the great stone throne on which Lord Drakkon sat. He stared down at the still smirking Displacer in front of him, the weaselly figure still holding out his hand confidently. The Ranger’s gloved hands dug into his seat, showing no sign of strain as the hardened stones began to crumble. Finally, the white-clad ruler stood to his feet, the thundering of his boots echoing around the chamber as he stomped down the steps. The silver of his dark blade shone dangerously as he came to a stop in front of the void dweller before him. It was only now that he realized he was a few inches shorter than the Displacer.

“…If you think you are funny,” the Ranger hissed, the malice clear in his tone. “You’ve found yourself in the wrong court.”

The Displacer only grinned. “I never joke about an offer,” he murmured, seemingly unperturbed by the man’s sudden rise in violence. “I can give you exactly what you want. All you have to do is campaign with me for, say, a year, and I’ll hand it over to you no strings attached.”

Blue eyes narrowed inside the helmet, teeth gritting for a moment. “What proof do I have that I can trust you?” Drakkon growled, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“There is none,” the taller man replied, his grin never fading. “However, I can offer you something else. The only other thing that has eluded you on your quest.”

A glare caught the red visor on the Ranger’s helmet. “What?”

Teeth flashed as the grin widened. “Revenge.”

Kyle ran down the streets of his old neighborhood, dodging and rolling out of the way of a trashcan that slammed into the ground behind him. He rolled to his feet and kept running. He couldn’t let the black mass catch up. He put more power into his legs as he ran, his hand reaching out. He grabbed the handle of the front door to his old home, quickly shoving it open and rushing inside.

The door slammed, the young athlete wincing a little as he expected the glass to shatter. When it didn’t, he jumped back and turned, leaping over the back of the couch and landing on his family’s old coffee table. He jumped clear just as he heard a roar from the kitchen, the specter of his father crashing into and through the table. Kyle landed on the hearth, yanking his sword free from the rack on which the fire poker usually hung. Without any more wasted time, the young man turned and slashed with all the power he could muster. The silver blade cleaved straight through flesh, severing the head of his old man’s visage.

The blue-eyed man huffed for air for several moments before he took off running again. He shoved past the likeness of his sister, ignoring both the shrill, demonic scream that left her and the warm, sticky fluid starting to run down his neck and chest. He slammed through the back door of the house, continuing to run as the scratching of the vile darkness grew louder in his ears. He jumped the fence and never let up, not bothering to take heed of his direction as he ran as his only goal was to gain all the distance he could from the encroaching black mass.

After what seemed like hours, Kyle ground to a halt, his tennis shoes digging into the asphalt below as his eyes widened. He knew exactly where he was but had no idea how he’d gotten there. The scratching had retracted slightly but still itched within his ears, never lessening to below acknowledgeable range. He stared at the figure in front of him, wondering how the older, blonde women stood before him in the very same alley he’d met Soldier in. He took in the dull yellow dress with faded flower patterns, the little red flats on her feet, and the glistening pearl earrings, never for a second doubting who they belonged to.

“Mom….”

The sound of his voice echoed in distortion, all other sounds dying away until there was only dead silence. The woman in front of him straightened up a little and slowly turned around. The young man winced as he felt the woman’s piercing grey eyes stab into him, an accusatory look driving through them. “…Yooou…” the apparition hissed, her eyes narrowing as Kyle gaped at her. “You evil spawn….”

“Mom,” the blue-eyed man replied slowly, raising his hand submissively. “I can explain. It was all a big acci-”

“Shut up!” The scream made the athlete flinch, fear coming to his eyes as he looked back at the distortion of his mother. “You can explain nothing! You murdered him! Your own father! You murdered him and left us with nothing! You destroyed everything!”

Kyle slammed his hand over his ear, trying to block out the sound of thousands of nails on a chalkboard, covering his other ear with his wrist as he still held tightly to his sword. He looked up in terror as the vision of his mother put a foot forward and continued to screech. “You brought suffering on all of us! Because of you, we’ll all die! Your father may have been a beast, but you! You’re a MONSTER!”

The young man never had a chance to react as black tendrils suddenly shot from the woman’s back, the same ooze filling her mouth and eyes and starting to drip down her cheeks and chin. Kyle let out a gasp as his limbs were ripped outward, spreading his body out with enough force to make his joints strain. His sword clattered to the ground as the man clenched his eyes closed, pain filling his mind as the ambient screeching stabbed into his eardrums. He grit his teeth and opened his eyes, terror the only emotion shown. The sinister vision of his mother smirked wickedly before lunging forward.

Kyle surged forward, cold sweat covering his forehead and dripping down his face. He panted for breath, his chest heaving. He stared wide-eyed into the darkness, the cotton sheets bunched around him as if to hold him in place. He continued to breathe deeply until his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight streaming through the window. He looked around the room that the princess had provided for him within the castle walls, making out the faint outlines of the meager furnishings within.

He took one final, deep breath before he threw the covers off his legs and pulled them over the side. He reached out and found the drawer of his end table, pulling it open and reaching in to pull out one of the long match sticks he’d been provided with along with the sheet of what could only be sandpaper. He struck the match a few times before it finally lit, casting its orange glow on his room. He turned a bit more and used his hand holding the sandpaper striker to lift the globe of the lamp resting there, quickly holding the flame to the oil-soaked wick, which soon caught flame.

He let out a relieved sigh as a warm glow filled the room, the young man waving the match out as he let the globe back down. He dropped the spent match on the tabletop before turning around, hands on his knees. He tried to calm his still rapidly beating heart, but each time he came close to slowing its rhythm, images came flooding back of the traumatic dream. The same dream that had been plaguing him every night since he’d passed out after his and the princess’ fight against Nightmare Moon. He shook his head and sighed, giving up on trying to breathe out his stress. Instead, he looked to his desk where a bottle of ink and a feather quill sat.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, grabbed the lamp off the end table, walked over to the desk, and sat in the wooden chair he had been provided with. He set the light down in the corner before leaning to the left and opening one of the two drawers in the desk, the right drawer more than twice the size of the left. He opened it and pulled out a sheet of scratch paper, laying it on the desk as he pushed the drawer back in. He stared at the page for a moment, apprehension in his eyes.

He knew he should just try to go back to sleep. He also knew that if he did, the nightmare would just be waiting for him. He’d brought the dreams to Father Time’s attention, and the Father had seemed at least mildly concerned about the description. Time had told him he’d look for a solution or at least some sort of remedy. In the meantime, he’d instructed Kyle to keep up with the dreams, writing them down every time he had one and noting specifically what changed from one night to the next. As the young man uncorked his ink and began to write, a thought went through his mind. I don’t think he expected me to write so many.

He simply shook his head and continued, describing every detail as he remembered it. He spent several hours recalling the events, going through a few more sheets of paper as he did. Once he finished, he waited for the ink to dry, rolled the pages together, and used a piece of twine to tie it together. He leaned to his right and opened the larger drawer, nearly three weeks’ worth of rolled papers greeting him.

He shook his head and deposited the new roll on top of the growing pile. The drawer slid closed with the sound of wood on wood, the young man putting his elbows up on the desk as he buried his face in his hands. He stayed that way for several long moments before letting a breath out and clasping his hands together. He glanced out the window, noting just how dark it still was. It would still be at least a few more hours before dawn broke, the sun rising under the power of Celestia’s magic. He gave a little huff at the thought.

That had been a difficult pill to swallow. When Father Time had come to him one morning during his recovery, running a little late for the first time, he had asked where the princess was. The Father had, without hesitation, told him she was busy lowering the moon and raising the sun. The statement had been said so casually that Kyle thought Time was joking. Oh, how wrong he’d been.

To be honest, Kyle still hadn't believed him until a few days later when the princess had asked for a meeting with him. She had confirmed the Father's claim with a light giggle and a smile. Then came the rest of the conversation.

The young man remembered it well, a slight frown picking up on his face for a moment. He looked to the window again, the night seeping in through the glass. Come first light, he'd get to make good on his word.

Several hours later and Kyle strode down the stone halls of the castle. The path he walked was one he’d walked before, though only once, and in the labyrinth of corridors, once was not nearly enough. He let out a tired sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He shook his sleeve as he put his hand back down to his side, the long sleeves of the cotton shirt he’d been given behaving stiffly, much like the trousers he’d been given. He let out another sigh before stopping and taking stock of his surroundings, several moments passing before he came to a conclusion.

“I am so lost,” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and sucking in air as he frowned in frustration. Blowing out his breath, he started to walk again in hopes of finding someone that might have some idea of where he was. He passed hall after hall, took turn after turn, but the only thing he managed to do was make himself even more lost than he already was. Eventually, he stopped and let out a growl, the hall splitting up at a crossway.

“Great job, dumbass,” he muttered to himself as he looked down each hallway. “You’ve gotten so lost you don’t even know how to get back anymore.” He started to turn in circles, his head doing much the same. Just as he was about to play eenie-meenie-miny-mo, the sound of footsteps drew his attention to the hall that had been on his left when he’d found the crossway.

A young woman, or pone, he still hadn’t gotten used to that, walked towards him, her mind seemingly elsewhere as she looked to the ground. She wore simple, dark brown pants, a loose long sleeve blouse tucked into the waist, a dark belt holding it up. Her pink striped red hair was pulled back into a bun, or at least the parts that weren’t trying to escape as she walked along. Her lips moved as if she were working out some sort of equation, dark green eyes intensely glued to the floor.

Kyle watched her approach, not moving out of the way until she was practically on top of him. He stepped out of the way, the pone never the wiser. He perked an eyebrow before clearing his throat. “Um, excuse me.”

The woman practically jumped out of her skin, causing the young man to jump back a bit as well. She turned and looked at him, eyes wide as she tucked her arms against her chest. As her sleeves fell back, he took notice of the dark green tattoos wrapping around her forearms and wrist, starkly contrasting against her honey skin tone. They both blinked at each other for several moments, each afraid to move or say anything.

“Um, sorry,” he apologized, slowly straightening back up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I, uh, just need help making it to the throne room. I got myself a little lost.”

The woman stared at him for several more moments before she took an almost soundless breath. She looked up at him with a renewed smile and nodded, motioning for him to follow her. She turned, looked to each hallway then smiled a bit wider before going down the hall he had just come from. The man groaned internally as he followed along behind her. Wordlessly, they moved through the hall, the woman taking deft turns as she followed a path that only she could see. Kyle tried his best to work out the route in his mind, but he simply frowned and shook his head after trying for several minutes, attempting to dislodge the forming headache.

A few minutes more, and they arrived in front of a set of double doors, a guard stationed on either side of said doors, steel armor glinting in the light. A breath of relief escaped the man before he turned to his escort with a smile. “Thank you,” he said, putting his hands together and giving a slight bow. The redhead only gave a small smile in return, giving her own little curtsy before straightening up, turning, and going along her merry way.

A brow quirked over Kyle’s eye as he watched her go. “Okaaay,” he muttered to himself before turning back to the guards and starting forward. As he drew closer, the two men, one with a small golden gem in his forehead, crossed their spears over the doors.

“State your business,” the right guard ordered, light shining from his companion’s gemstone.

“I’m here to meet with Celestia,” Kyle answered, glancing nervously at the glowing jewel a few times. “She said she’d be introducing me to a Lord today.”

The guard looked him over a moment before glancing at his partner, who nodded. “Alright,” he conceded, the pair removing their spears. “In you go.” They stepped out of the way and pushed the doors open, something illuminating underneath the sleeve of the first guard as the other’s gem shone brightly.

“Thank you,” Kyle said with a small bow, quickly making his way inside. The doors closed behind him as he strode forward. Celestia stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to her throne, speaking with a sharply dressed man, his dark dress pants and vest marking him as someone of great importance. Even his shirt, long sleeves holding closer to his toned arms, seemed to be made of better materials than Kyle had seen anyone else asides the princess wear.

As he approached, the princess glanced his way, a smile spreading over her face as she spotted him. “Mister Fawkes,” she greeted, turning to face him properly. “How nice of you to meet us.”

“Even if you are a bit late,” the man added, his tone unaccusatory as a playful smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

Quirking a brow, Kyle took another second to take in the man before him. The sideways grin, deep, shining green eyes and matching gemstone, well-groomed golden hair, even his silvery skin all seemed to give off an almost ethereal glow. Reverence poured from the man like a wordless hymn, almost as if the one before him deserved the respect he commanded. Although, the softness of the smile and coolness of his gaze betrayed a kindness and patience beyond the imposing stature in front of him.

“...Mister Fawkes?”

The young man jolted as he realized he’d been staring, blinking as the princess looked at him with some concern while the older man’s amusement only seemed to grow. “Uh… sorry,” Kyle apologized, unconsciously reaching up to rub his neck.

Celestia watched him a moment more. “...Are you feeling alright, Kyle?” She asked, dropping formalities in favor of concern.

The young man paused at that, his mind calculating just how much he needed to say at the moment. “I’ve… been having some trouble sleeping,” he finally admitted, the princess’ frown deepening. “I’ve already spoken with Father Time, and we’re hoping we can find a solution.”

“...I see,” Celestia murmured after a moment, continuing to eye the young man. “Perhaps we should postpone.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Princess, I-” he started before he lost his words. He paused and looked to the floor, his throat tightening around the scar tissue that remained from his fight. His fists clenched, and he took a breath before looking back up. “I said before that I was ready to fight,” he restarted resolutely. “I was given my powers so that I could protect people, and I still plan to do just that.”

Silence filled the space as Kyle finished, his gaze never faltering as he and the princess looked into each others’ eyes. A low chortle finally broke the silence between them, drawing their attention to the older man beside them, his warm laughter filling the space nicely. “He certainly seems to have the conviction you were telling me about, your highness,” he chuckled, eyes falling on the boy before him.

The tanned woman blinked for a moment before she let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I almost fear that bringing the two of you together may very well be the end of my already fragile sanity,” she muttered to herself, fingertips on her forehead as she shook her head with closed eyes. Her gaze was stern when she looked up as she looked at each of them with her arms crossed, hip kicked out, and wings slightly flared. “Despite that and the developments you have just informed me of, Kyle, we shall move along as planned. That said,” she paused to wave a hand to the sharp-dressed man who stood a bit straighter, “allow me to introduce you to your new master, Duke Silverline.”

The duke bowed his head slightly, Kyle quickly following suit in respect, both men straightening up soon after. “It’s a pleasure, Kyle,” Silverline greeted formally, beaming as he stretched a hand out to the young man. “Hearing how you helped the princess to banish the Nightmare has left me most impressed.”

“Oh, uh…” Kyle stuttered, reaching his own hand out while trying to ignore the slight flinch that Celestia gave at the word “Nightmare.” “I didn’t really do a whole lot, y’know. I was just sort of a distraction while Princess Celestia did the real leg work.”

“Nonsense,” the pone replied with a slight chuckle before something a little more serious glinted in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be offering you a knighthood if you were nothing more than a distraction.”

The young man gulped. “No, I, uh, guess you wouldn’t,” Kyle murmured, a tingle running up his spine at the suddenly very dark look on the duke’s face.

A few tense moments passed between the two as they let go of the handshake, Silverline's expression returning to what it was. "I assume you know the basics of what a knighthood entails," the Duke continued, folding his arms behind his back.

"Um…" The young man murmured, nervously rubbing his hands against his trousers. "Not really? I only know that I'll be learning under a master knight, though Time and I never discussed it in detail…."

"Hm," the pone hummed, quirking an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "Then allow me to educate you." Silverline straightened up a bit, clearing his throat as he tamed his smile. "Upon accepting my offered apprenticeship, you will spend at least one year as a page in my household. Perhaps more, perhaps less, depending on the evaluation of both my wife and I. Once you are deemed worthy, you will begin your time as my squire, learning true combat and strategy. Again, this will be a time of evaluation for you and, depending on how well you listen and learn, should last little more than two to three years for someone of your age." The fair-haired man stopped and looked down at him, gaze stern. "This will not be an easy road, but it will be rewarding if your true goal is as you say it is. However, if you walk this path for greed or power, you will find yourself in the mud with the other swine. Do I make myself clear?"

Kyle found himself standing ramrod straight, arms to his side stiffly. The young man could only nod in answer.

"Any questions?"

The boy shook his head.

"Good." The Duke's dark expression left as quickly as it had come, leaving his easygoing smile in its place. "I believe this will be the beginning of something fantastic."

"If you are quite done, nephew," Celestia interrupted, bringing herself back into the conversation while also drawing up Silverline’s grin a bit more. “I don’t believe there to be any reason for you to continue scaring your potential squire.”

The man gave a little chuckle at that, glancing at his aunt for a moment. “No, I don’t believe there is,” he agreed, his eyes returning to the young man before him. “So? What’ll it be, young Fawkes? Join me in House Silverline? Or…” he paused and once more allowed his gaze to harden, “will you let this opportunity pass by and wait for the next?”

Pale blue eyes stared up for a moment into unfathomable green before the boy turned his gaze away. Subconsciously, he brought his hand up to rub at the scar along his throat. This wasn’t exactly what he’d thought he’d signed up for. At least three years to become a knight? And that was if he did everything perfectly without having any knowledge of sword fighting or anything like that. Even his fight with Nightmare Moon could be chalked up to nothing more than luck. But… that was why he was here, wasn’t it? The reason he gave up his old home? His old life? His family?

He grimaced for a moment as thoughts of his nightmares came rushing back to him. What family did he have left? His father was psychotic, not to mention dead, and his mother was deranged. The only other person he’d have wanted to go back to was-

“Kira.” The word was out before he could stop it, slipping out under a quiet breath. What would she want him to do? It didn’t take much thought to put that one together. His worried, uncertain gaze hardened, steadfast and sure of his decision as he looked up into the eyes of the Duke.

“Let’s do it.”

Author's Note

Nightmares plague the mind of young Kyle Fawkes. Will this be his downfall as he begins the long road of becoming a knight? Or will it be the fuel he needs to spur onward?

Huzzah, new update! Told you guys I could keep to a schedule! YEEEAaaaah.... Woo! Annnd that was all the energy I had in me. Enjoy the new chapter for this month and be ready for next month. As usual, if you want the content early, hit up my Patreon. Until next time!

Chapter 3- Daydreams

Chapter 3-

Daydream

“Revenge?” The Ranger parroted, leaning away slightly from the Displacer before him with a scoff. “Who is left for me to want vengeance against? As you can see,” he paused to take a few steps back up towards his throne, “I have already taken my vengeance.”

“Have you, though?” The words caught Drakkon, making his eyes narrow behind his helmet. The lanky Displacer turned his back and started to pace away. “It’s true that you have jumped from one dimension to another in an attempt to hunt down a single man,” he paused to chuckle darkly, “if that’s what you can call him, but you have failed to break away from worlds that are already connected.” The Displacer turned and took several aggressive steps forward. “Even after taking that infernal machine for yourself, you still are no closer to breaching the Void.”

Drakkon forced his flinch down, though he had to admit that the sudden pressure he felt from the being before him was staggering. He looked down at the Displacer, his usual cocky grin replaced by a slight frown that made the Lord want to shudder. “...While you are correct,” the Ranger began, starting to step back down. “I fail to see how my failure to pass to other multi-verses is of any concern here.”

“Because you can’t get to him,” the Displacer answered with a hiss, his frown growing. “I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you like a child.” Drakkon’s teeth ground together at that, but he let his guest continue. For now. “The one we both want dead more than anything. The one that threw you into this shit hole in the first place. The one that stands outside your reach.”

Lord Drakkon’s eyes widened at that before a snarl erased any other emotion.

“Soldier.”

Kyle blew a strand of hair from his face as he scrubbed clothing in a bucket of warm water and soapwort. He rolled the garment around in the lathery liquid and stood with the shirt in hand, finding no stains. It had been close to four months since he’d entered Duke Silverline’s home, and in that time, he’d learned quite a bit. Mainly just how far back in the past the pones around him seemed to be.

Everything seemed to be very medieval to the young man, from manners and cooking to combat and laundry. However, he’d stuck to his chores and what little education he was given. Upon finding that he was already literate, all the Duke and his wife had done were teach some grammatics, including the male and female forms of pone, that were accurate to the time period he’d been sent to. That left him more time for combat training, something the blond was thankful for.

If I keep up the pace, he thought to himself as he hung the blouse up to dry. I’ll be a squire in no time. The thought made a smile grow across his face before it quickly faded as a dark thought invaded his mind. The image of his mother’s savage visage tearing into his flesh flashed into his mind, phantom pain erupting from his side in response.

“GAH!” The boy gasped, grabbing at his side and falling to one knee. The commotion drew the attention of another, the Duke’s wife, who had been busy with her own bucket.

“Fawkes!” She cried, auburn hair flowing as she rushed to his side. “Are you alright?”

Kyle clenched his teeth and eyes, mentally beating the image back, forcing it back to black. Then, after a moment, the pain began to fade, and he began to take deep breaths. A moment more and he opened his eyes and looked up at the matronly equan, the worry in her gold eyes making him flinch.

“Sorry, Lady Marigold,” he apologized, getting back to his feet with some help from the orangish Duchess. “Just a nightmare I had.”

The Mageling continued to stare down at him with worry, her attention lingering on the dark circles under his eyes. “Are Father Time’s remedies not working?” She asked, turning her attention to his gaze.

The young man merely shook his head. “They help a little,” he answered, still rubbing his side. “But they only help me get an extra hour or two before the nightmares come back.” He let out an irritated snort. “Better than nothing.”

Marigold seemed as if she were about to say something, only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. “Your Grace,” the servant equan called, drawing the attention of both the Duchess and page. “Dinner is prepared, and His Grace has returned from Everfree.”

“Thank you, Heaven,” the older pone answered, giving a slight bow. “We will be there shortly.”

The servant girl bowed her head and turned, leaving the pair alone once more. Marigold looked down at Kyle, worry once more coming to her features. “I’ll send word to the Father,” she stated, straightening up. “See if there is something more he can do for you. In the meantime,” she began straightening her skirt to follow after Heaven Sent, “let us enjoy our dinner and see what news my husband brings.”

The young man nodded and followed behind, entering the castle of the Duke. It wasn’t long before they entered the great hall, Silverline already at his place at the head table. Numerous others sat around the central firepit, the wood thankfully unlit in the Summer heat. Kyle continued to follow Marigold until they reached the head table, The Duke looking up with a smile as his wife approached, the couple sharing a kiss before the equan sat beside her husband. Kyle sat just one chair away from the Duchess, leaving his hands in his lap as he looked down at that table in front of him.

“What news comes from the Princess?” Marigold questioned curiously, drawing a smile from the blond equon.

“To the quick as always,” he chuckled before turning to face her properly. “The Princess gathered all of her generals to speak of a possible growing threat in the East. It would appear that the young Lord Tirek has come to power.” A frown crossed his face, and he turned away a moment. “The brute,” he murmured before he shook his head. “We are unsure if we should even be threatened by him at all, but the fact remains of what he did those many years ago.”

Both the Duke and Duchess frowned deeply at that, leaving Kyle in confusion. “What did he do?” He asked, looking between the two as he caught their attention.

Silverline looked at him with wide eyes before a slight laugh shook his shoulders. “Sometimes I forget you are not familiar with our history,” the Duke chortled before straightening up. “Thirty years ago, a pone was kidnapped from our lands by a centaur known as Sendak. He had a student, a prince named Tirek, and together they studied the pone, a Mageling like us, and attempted to steal their magic. The result was anything but subtle, and both Sendak and Tirek were punished, and the pone returned to us.”

“And now this guy is in charge of his kingdom,” Kyle finished, a frown coming to his face. “And considering his curiosity in pone magic, he could be gearing up to come our way.”

A bright smile split Silverline’s face at that, a proud grin if ever the young man had seen one. “Exactly,” the Duke replied, giving a nod. “While the caution is split down the middle amongst myself and the other knights, I believe that Tirek could very well be headed our way. The only question is when and how.”

The young man nodded at that, his mind already racing. His hand slipped behind his back, fingering the buckle that held his morpher in place, the cold feeling of metal comforting him for a time. However, his master shook him from his thoughts as he spoke again.

“As for more exciting news,” the equon continued as servants began to serve their plates. “The Princess seems to actually be thinking of relocating the capital.”

“Really?” His wife questioned, raising a brow. “What has made her change her mind?”

“Can’t an equan change her mind to change her mind?” Silver asked in return, a smirk on his face as his eye twinkled and he reached for his drink.

“Not that aunt of yours,” Marigold replied with a bit of a smirk of her own. “Stars knows she’s as unmoving as they come.”

This drew a laugh from the Duke as he put his goblet back down. “You’re very right,” he agreed, turning back to face her. “There have been some strange occurrences in the forest. The animals seem to be drawing further away from pones, and some are reporting new creatures we’ve never seen. That’s all we have, though, reports, though they are still concerning. One equon even claimed to have been attacked by a tree in the form of a wolf.”

“That is strange,” the orange pone murmured before shaking her head and looking back to her husband. “Where is she thinking of relocating?”

The question made the Duke practically giddy, the grin on his face wide as he swallowed a spoonful of soup. “She’s put great thought into it,” he teased, side-eyeing his wife as he left her in suspense. “And while many areas have caught her eye, she’s thinking of moving to the mountain.”

A gasp left the equan that made Kyle jump a little as the Duchess’s eyes lit up. “Our mountain!?” She questioned, giggling excitedly as Silverline nodded with bright eyes.

“Plans seem to already be in the works,” the silver equon continued, gathering more soup into his spoon. “She’s yet to name it, though.”

“How exciting!” Marigold exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Soon, we’ll be at the center of the world!”

“Too true, my dearest,” Silver agreed, his eyes coming up to survey the hall. “Soon, pones from all over will travel through here, bringing all sorts of new products and inventions. It will be a renaissance unlike any we’ve seen before.”

Kyle listened to the couple, their excitement growing with each word that passed between. In his mind, he began to think, wondering if this “renaissance” would be as great as the Duke said.

Later that day, as the light faded, Kyle walked the halls of Canter Castle, a book tucked under his arm. While reading had never really been his favorite pass time, he took the time to try and learn all he could about the world around him. The book he’d picked out was the only one he could find in the castle’s library over the countries overseas.

If Tirek is as big a threat as they say he might be, he thought to himself. Then I’d best be ready. I may not be a knight yet, but I’m still a Ranger. His thoughts were interrupted as he came to his room, Silverline standing before the door with a fist raised to knock.

“Kyle,” he greeted in surprise, turning to the young man and putting his hand behind his back. “I was just looking for you.”

“Well, you’re in the right place,” the blond replied, a light smile playing on his face as he stopped before his mentor.

A chuckle left the Duke. “Quite right,” he agreed. “I’ve come to discuss a few things with you if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Kyle answered, switching the grip on his book to open the door before waving Silverline inside.

The equon gave a bow before entering, the young man following behind him and closing the door. Silver took a seat at the writing desk he’d given to Kyle for his studies as Kyle took the only other seat in the room, the edge of his bed. “I was told by Marigold that you had a bit of an episode today,” the Duke started, weaving his fingers together. “She’s very worried about you. So am I. We’ve written a letter to Father Time requesting his aid, but it could be a week or two before we see his presence.”

Kyle was silent for a moment before he let out a sigh and sat his book on the bed beside him. “I’m honestly not sure that was necessary,” he murmured, looking towards the floor. “The medicine he gave me works well enough to get me a few hours of restful sleep a night, and the nightmares don’t wake me up for several hours after. Besides that, I’m not sure there’s much else the Father can do for me. He was hesitant to use any magic to help me sleep. He was worried about what effect magic might have on me, considering I have no magic of my own.”

The knight sat silently beside him as he listened, allowing the boy to say his piece before speaking up again. “...Nevertheless,” he spoke up. “It is worth a shot, and it is our only shot. I can tell just by looking at your eyes how these nightmares are affecting you, and something must be done about them.” The pone stopped to take in a breath, letting his shoulders relax. “Especially considering that I’ll be starting your training as a squire tomorrow.”

Blue eyes widened at that, and Kyle looked up to see Silverline smiling a little. “You’re serious,” the young man stated, a smile starting to spread over his face.

“I am,” Silver confirmed, grin broadening. “Marigold and I both discussed it, and we believe you were probably ready to be a squire when you first stepped foot inside the castle, but we had to be sure. That and…,” the equon trailed off a moment, his gaze drifting, “with Tirek taking his throne, I fear we may require fighters sooner than the others think.”

The confession put a damper on Kyle’s mood, his features falling. He followed his teacher’s gaze to the book sitting beside him. A myriad of thoughts ran through his mind before he took a deep breath. “I’ll be ready,” he said, drawing Silverline’s attention to his stern features. “You, Marigold, Father Time, and the Princess have all done so much for me in the short time I’ve been here. It’s about time I started giving back.”

The Duke seemed a little surprised for a moment before that bright, proud smile from dinner returned to his features. “I’m sure you’ll do just that,” he replied, giving the young man a firm pat on the leg. “Tomorrow, your training begins,” the equon stated as he stood up, Kyle following suit as he headed for the door. “Get some rest. You’ll be needing it.”

Kyle thundered down the road, easily avoiding any obstacle thrown his way. Of course, it was always the same obstacles anyway. As he drew near his home, he lowered his shoulder. At the speed he was going, it was no wonder the door came loose as he connected with it, though he never stopped.

He continued his momentum by diving over the couch as his father smashed into the wall next to the open door. Kyle snatched up his blade from the fireplace, jumping to the side next as the couch was thrown his way. The young man turned to face his father, black ooze leaking from his every orifice and from under his fingernails.

The blond didn’t hesitate as the figure rushed him again. He slashed horizontally, cleaving through flesh with ease. As his father hit the floor in two pieces, he turned and ran once more, crashing through the kitchen door before Kira could let out her scream.

Kyle continued to run, faster and faster, trying with all his might to drown out the scratching that faded but never died. He took corner after corner, trying to change it up from his last run, yet knowing he’d still end up there. He came skidding around the final turn, his legs aching as he still ran.

His mother opened her eyes, her features forming somewhere between a snarl and an insane grin. “MONSTER!” She screamed, the high-pitched screech detonating in Kyle’s ears.

Still, he ran, his ears bleeding alongside the cut in his throat as he held his sword at his side. “Diiie!” He screamed out, lunging at his mother as black tendrils shot from her back. He dodged easily before striking out. His mother hissed as he cut through her tentacles, the visage jumping back to avoid his swing. Kyle pushed on, avoiding every stab of the oozing limbs while taking every opportunity to strike back.

The battle was constant, each taking a few shallow wounds from the other. All the while, the scratching in Kyle’s head grew louder, the young man knowing that it was drawing closer and that he was running out of time. His distraction proved to be his downfall, though, as a tendril shot forward and skewered his foot. A cry of agony ripped from his chest before a sludge-covered hand slammed over his mouth and nose.

His eyes widened as his mother dragged him into the air, her lips oozing as they split into a sharp-toothed grin. He could see the darkness closing in around them, though there was still some distance away. His attention was yanked back as he was shaken roughly, his eyes looking back down. “You should let it take you,” she hissed, shaking him again. “Monsters like you deserve to be in the dark.” Kyle’s eyes widened as the tendrils of her back reared back. Her grin gave one last twitch at the fear in his eyes before she lunged.

Author's Note

Kyle has begun to settle into House Silverline, learning their customs, traditions, and language. All the while, the nightmares persist, causing him pain even in the waking world.

Trying to correct last month's mistake which I know is just as frustrating for all of you as it is for me. For that I apologize but come next month, all will be well and we'll be right back on track. However, if you simply don't want to wait, check out my LinkTree, which will lead you to all of my social media and publishing sites, including DeviantArt, where you can find the full-sized images from this and other chapters, and my Patreon, where you can get all my content several months in advance along with some other content that is exclusive to Patreon. And with all that, I hope you guys enjoy, and I'll you in the next one!