Chapters Unforeseeable Consequences
FirstPersonPerspective
I never really thought much about my... awareness... of what most would most certainly call the 'unnatural'. I had chosen a rather particular costume of layered ceramic and steel with a lacquered layer of quartz offset with obsidian inlays edged with gold.
The blade was a Damascus with a hardened quartz and gold sheath overlapping a leather sheath. My gaze scanned around, spotting a guy that looked eerily like Bryan Cranston's Zordon wearing gray edged white robes. My eyes slid around before I felt an all-too-familiar itch shoot up my spine as I shifted my weight at heavy footfalls before I saw him .
My eyes widened with surprise upon seeing a dark fog gather into the hand of the cosplayer before my eyes widened as the fog expanded and crystalized into a long blade I guessed to be roughly two and a half feet long. My hand dipped to the sheath of Saba before gripping the hilt, missing how the robed Zordon's eyebrows rose slightly over his luminous sapphire irises. With a roar, Goldar charged, though even as he did, I noticed the distinctive golden topaz flames flickering over the edge of the blade. My eyes narrowed as I pushed off, ignoring the scattering people before I blocked Goldar's slash towards a young woman who looked eerily like Thuy Trang, grunting as one knee held me from collapsing beneath his strength. I missed how arcs of golden electricity flickered down my arms towards the Morpher with its inert dimness before the glow ignited in a bright flare of light that, unfortunately, distracted me.... and cost me my life as Goldar's blade drove through my chest and out of my back. I saw a brilliant flash of mingled red and purple hit Goldar, sending him backwards with a snarl before I felt a satchel being pushed into my hands.
"You can help him. Even now, his strength wavers. I will merge your soul with his, though assimilation of his memories will take time. Give him a reason to keep fighting. May the Power protect you," I heard, the voice fading away as I distantly caught "You won't be able to..." before sight and sound faded to nothingness.
Unforeseeable Consequences
Earth155432116
Robert Ranstoc had many secrets, most related to his past. Now, however, he was focused on one thing: fighting for his life.
His spiritual pressure was quite low as his exhaustion was quite high. He, as well as a young woman by the name of Epsilon Omega were fighting... More precisely... Struggling... Against whom apparently was an Avatar of the Egyptian goddess Isis whom, in their era, embodied the aspects of magic, fertility and motherhood, as well as death, healing and rebirth. This Revenant Avatar, manipulated by Felix Faust, was taking every opportunity possible to drain their life force. His grayish blue irises glowed as his hand rose, deflecting an arcane bolt back at its source at a higher speed and angle, catching Faust full in the face in a burst of smoke.
He let the arcane seal dissipate as his hand dropped as he leaped back, employing his enhanced strength and speed as his eyes narrowed as a two inch diameter thorny spear impaled through Faust's heart, likely not only destroying the critical organ for life, but lacerating the hell out of the dark mage's lungs.
His eyebrows rose slightly as he tried to catch his breath as the Revenant began to pulse like a heartbeat, the pulse and resulting glow building as he focused, pulling energy from deep within as his hands rose, forming a far stronger seal meant for deflection rather than absorption or reflection as he could tell from the intense glow that Faust was employing a spell that acted like the equivalent of a suicide bomber.... If a suicide bomber could detonate themselves strongly enough to leave several blocks as naught but a smoking crater.
Robert saw, out of the corner of his eye, a massive lotus blossom bloom before Faust detonated himself as well as Isis. His thoughts shot back to recent events as he focused, his eyes glowing a hot crystalline garnet as he reinforced the sigil he'd summoned, the energy forming a garnet shield around him. His eyes widened as arcs of the bright golden energy seeped into the seal, altering the runes before he felt the searing heat surging through his body, unaware his energy had encased his badly burned body as garnet-amethyst crystal. It was then that he heard a familiar voice he hadn't heard in years... a certain old Sage of Eltar.
"I will help you, Billy. I apologize we never considered the possibility that there were secrets that we didn't know about one another despite the years we worked together. Intriguingly, where you will land, an old friend has also taken up residence. Perhaps you will see him once more. I have assistance that can help you. I know it is exhausting, knowing what we lost over the years. Fortunately, as you say, a burden shared is a burden lessened, I believe the expression is," Zordon murmured before he felt a powerful rush of Power -- power he recognized as that from the Morphing Grid. He noticed, however, that it was an unrefined and unfocused connection, as if recently formed.
"I will give him my memories of my skills, but I am tired... nay... exhausted in mind and spirit. He will... have my memories and acquired skills... from Kara... Rachel... Zatana... my own skills as a Ranger... amongst others. He may even use what I gained and recall in ways I never expected or considered," he replied to the ancient Sage.
Unforeseeable Consequences
Equestria11320915-161524517, Year 1465, 25 years before the Return of the Lunar Diarch
On an island cloaked by magics so old, they predated not only the present Diarchy, but the one before it, roughly four days east and slightly south of the Equestrian city of Baltimare, a crystalline meteorite of silvery white metal buried itself into the cobblestones no less than two dozen yards away from a tall, well figured and busty Amazonian mare standing no shorter than 7'3" in height with EE cup breasts. Her fur was a pale caramel, whilst her long raven mane fell to her bubble butt. Her sky blue eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at what her people called 'Asteriatsáli'. It was the Ancient Tongue for 'star steel' in modern Equish. Her name --- Queen Ouránia Thýella .
Her head tilted as no less than twelve of her guard with spears ready, approached the steaming spheroid which was slightly oblong almost like an egg. Her eyebrows rose slightly as the spheroid trembled ever do slightly, despite nopony being in contact with it. Cracks formed in the Asteriastàli, spilling both warm sapphire and bright reddish copper light from within before one of her guard, a mare by the name of Lónchi Kroùo, shoulder-blocked one of the cracks with her shield, the resonant ringing much like the peal of a gong immediate as the crack widened before she noticed something within radiating the odd glow that faded to a faint pulsing, as if whatever was within was injured.
Her order was immediate. "Break it open!!"
POVshift Arashi Tsukino, first person
A pounding migraine assaulted me as I heard banging and low cracks as, unknown to me, my seven year old body, now that of an anthropomorphic stallion with dark burgundy hooves, patchy pale lavender-purple fur, and complex navy and amethyst tribal tattoos smoking faintly from where they'd been burned into my skin, which was an angry, fairly blistered red where the fur was not, and a warm Egyptian blue and slate blue mane and tail, both ragged.
My eyes squeezed shut as blinding light flared. The last thing I clearly recalled was Goldar shoving his sword through my chest. I distantly hear voices gasping before callused but gentle hands pull me free of wherever I washed I felt consciousness flee.
Unforeseeable Consequences
Author's Note
There is a short timeskip between the previous chapter and this one, roughly a three year period.
New Life
The island of Fylaxippàrio was mostly filled with mares. Many of them were masters of everything including sword combat, weaving, painting, masonry and stonework, pottery, healing, archery, spear combat, and unarmed combat. Magic was a rare talent as most were either Pegasi or Earth Pony mares.
Ourània exhaled softly, her gaze on the marble ceiling of her bed chamber. She stretched as she sat up, her EE cup breasts bouncing freely despite her close to 840 year age, she looked no older than her late thirties. Most Earth Pony mares, off of the island, tended to have lifespans in the 300 to 400 year range on average, while Pegasus mares could live roughly 280 to 350 years. Unicorns, sometimes, could be between 400 to 600 years of age. Alicorns, however, held a primordial connection to things, whether celestial, magical, emotional, or otherwise and could effectively live as long as whatever they were linked to lived and thrived.
Her gaze swept to the chamber to her right, where her son resided. Her ears twitched as she focused a hint of magic to her ears, enhancing her hearing, unaware that close to fifteen millennia before, such a technique was used with a very different form of energy than mana drawn from the atmosphere and concentrated into magic. She could hear soft gasps and groans from her son before her fingers drifted to her growing belly... where, by the following spring, her son would have a sibling.
ArashiTsukino - FPoV
I did notice that, regardless of what I recalled, one color was never seen from my perspective... that of the Blue Ranger. "Unless the memories are from Billy... wait... the name that flashed in my mind.... 'Robert Ranstoc'... Robert is a common name that tends to be shortened to 'Billy'... and shuffle the anagram of 'Ranstoc' around.... and you get 'Cranston', smart... but then... Billy did effectively retire from what I've seen, more to control the power that had awoken in him when Rita and Zedd deaged them, thereby forcing the others to seek out the Zeo Crystal to undo the spell. I'm guessing that whatever awoke in him was something that Zordon and Alpha 5 never encountered.... as it came up as a genetic disorder. I'm guessing he didn't reveal the truth to the others, and it would explain why the Golden Zeo Power rejected him if it was a power that it didn't recognize... unless... the power had an inhuman source," he thought, groaning a bit as he sat up.
His hand rose a bit as a golden red fog flickered as the covers neatly folded as he slid out of the bed, which really was closer in appearance to an ancient Roman chaise lounge, if a bit wider. His gaze drifted out of the broad arches that effectively served as windows, seeing that the sun was just over the horizon. He knew Amber Edge and Wrought Iron, the two mares who'd effectively declared themselves not only his handmaidens but also his training partners, would be by shortly. He grimaced as he knew both would insist on bathing him. He knew that his mother had deemed it necessary to call in whom she called the Iliakós Àgrypnos to do something with him, though she never said what precisely it was, though the implication was that it was something to do with him.
My gaze swept around the broad marble columns supporting the chamber and polished granite floors. Logically, he knew both were weather resistant, though he got the sense that there was more than just the natural elemental resistance in play. A soft indrawn breath followed as the soft clip-clop of my feet followed on the polished stone before I blinked as the sound gradually faded before my gaze dropped to see my hooves... my feet... floating inches off the stone, yet I drifted along as if in control of my unaided flight. Which.... by my adoptive mother's claims... should be impossible without wings.
By her claims, flight is a talent gifted to those known as the Àgrypnos and Penkási. Those of the Gī inheritance had greater physical strength, resistance, durability, and, rarely, a connection to nature. The Mageía, comparatively, held a reservoir of magical power within them of varying strengths that the Penkàsi and Gī lacked available for direct manipulation, whereas the other 'clans' as she referred to them, held passive talents unique to them.
The Penkàsi, for example, were masters of weather manipulation and aerial combat. Admittedly, he was fairly sure the latter was both trained as well as instinctive.
His hooves touched with a soft click to the floor as his gaze swept over the bathing chamber in the open air.
