A/N: This is my first fanfic in a long time, so...yeah, that's it. BTW, the only Power Rangers series that I've watched are the Mighty Morphin, Wild Force and Ninja Storm. Sucks to live in the Philippines, that's for sure.
The Prophecy of Eeyghon She walks in silence, stalked by misfortune. Marked as his successor, she is the descendant of the Dragon Lord and possesses his great power. Her balance can be swayed to either side, but she will form an alliance with the force of Wind and the sons of Thunder.
The girl shot up from the covers, damp and sticky with sweat. She breathed in relief, knowing that the nightmarish scenes in her head was only part of some macabre dream.
"Mom?" she called. "Dad?"
There was no answer, save for a scream outside her window. A chill ran up her spine; she did not like this at all. "Mom," she called with much more urgency. "Dad?"
"We're here, Adelaide," whispered Miranda. "Be quiet; there are men outside. They are looking for you."
She was taken aback. What on earth would people want with a fifteen-year-old girl? Nothing but trainings in discipline stopped her from asking that question. "Dad," she said, her voice quaking in fear. "Your aura...it's--"
"Shh. I know. Follow me."
The girl followed her parents, keeping in sight their auras, covered in a cloudy gray mist. She inhaled; the smell of fear mixed with the smell of blood and smoke. She followed them into the altar room, where they bowed with respect to the Dragon Lord. She shuddered, feeling Eeyghon's creepy peepers stare after them.
Blue and green, she thought. Just like mine.
Jonathan walked to the altar and took the black orb. He knelt down in front of his daughter and offered it to her. "You are the Dragon," he whispered.
"Get up," she urged. They were her parents; they shouldn't be bowing to her. And besides, they should be running. She could sense the evil fast approaching.
"Take the orb," Miranda said. "It's yours. Learn it's ways." She smiled and touched her daughter's long auburn locks. "My Jade...we will see each other again."
She bit her lips to keep the tears from falling and pocketed the orb. "I love you," she whispered, knowing that it was the last words she would ever say to either of them.
The door burst open and in stepped a figure wearing a delicate ivory mask. There was nothing delicate about this woman though; she stood with confidence, a sneer playing on her bloodred lips. "Hello," she said, "Jonathan."
The girl looked at her father, not wanting to believe that he knew this creature. He curled his upper lip in disgust. "It's Medusa now, isn't it?" he asked. "What Ursula would have thought--"
He was cut off by a blast of energy from Medusa's hands. "Shut up!" she yelled. "You don't know me. Hand over the Dragon's Orb; it belongs to me."
"No," Miranda replied, helping her husband to stand. "Fifteen years ago, you were banished for trying to take my daughter's life. You are unworthy to become Eeyghon's heir."
"Unworthy," Medusa echoed. "I possess powers that not even your precious Jade can hope to achieve. It is I who should be the Dragon; not this pitiful scrap of an individual." She smiled evilly. She let the power build up inside of her and released it. Once the light had faded, it was obvious that the two were dead.
"No!" shrieked the girl. She glared at the murderer, white-hot rage flowing through her veins. She sent a blast of energy to Medusa, who keeled over, clutching the remains of her broken mask.
"You have been taught well," she marvelled, wiping at the blood that ran down her cheek. "The dragon's Balance can be swayed. Join me in my quest for ultimate supremacy." She held out her hand.
The girl stared. True enough, there was a part of her that seemed to be seduced by the darkness. She shook her head and looked down at her parents' lifeless bodies. "Medusa," she said slowly. "I would rather die than join you."
"Then perish," Medusa sneered, her blue eyes cold as ice. "You will join your parents soon enough, Dragon." And with that, she disappeared.
She knelt down and allowed hot tears to roll down her cheeks, if only for a few minutes. She quickly wiped them away and stared heavenward. "You will die Medusa," she vowed, touching the tattoo on her wrist. "You will die by my hands."