Title: My Rangers
Fandom: Power Rangers, possibly multi-era
Summary: Zordon is very, very old. In some ways, he is a parent. In others, a teacher and in others, a thinker. What does he think about on long, quiet nights when battle has been won or lost?
Alpha?
Ah, good. He will not hear me now. None of them will.
My name is Zordon and no, I am not from here. I am from Eltar, many light-years away. I have lived in Earth for several thousand years and despite what you might think, I am not as trapped as I could be. I cannot go anywhere and I cannot fight, this is true.
I can however, observe.
I began observing; watching not long after Rita imprisoned me. We imprisoned one another, to be completely honest with you. It is perhaps a strange mixture of victory and defeat. We both won and we both lost. Our freedom, we both lost, but in the end, I believe I am the victor. She can do no more evil while confined. She cannot even watch. I can at least watch and I can appreciate this planet I protect.
It happened today.
Rita escaped. The first Rangers accepted themselves as well. I was pleased by this; I still am. Each has something to offer. Jason brings strength and surety. Zackary brings laughter and a light spirit. Trini brings serenity. Kimberly brings grace. Billy…
I almost turned him away and for this, I am ashamed. I observed him in battle and found his skills as a fighter dearly wanting. However, it quickly came to light what he had to offer: His mind. He understands much more than even Alpha gave him credit for. He understands more than perhaps the others in ways that move beyond the technical field. I shall watch him closely.
They have grown up.
My Ranger children have grown up.
Do not look at me so strangely. They are my Rangers and I, their teacher. Their mentor. I am proud of them, at what they have learned and how they have grown. I do not wish to see them depart though. I cannot often display emotion in their presence; they look to me for guidance. But now, what do I do? They are growing up. I know they have their dreams; they want them and should have them. Do they know how I shall miss them?
I will watch over them still – wielding the Power or not, I will watch them. They are my children, grown up or not.
I have seen much in my thousands of years. Of some of it, I am weary, incredibly weary. I feel my age on these days, when I remember fierce battles or narrow escapes. I held my breath, watching them do what I could not. I worried for them, feared for them. I still do but now, this fear is a different fear. They have their lives and live well.
Why is it then that I still fear? They are my Rangers, my children. My students.
They have grown and changed while I have not.
When all is quiet and the lights are dark, I remember my Rangers.
And none of them will hear me.