Trey's Story

by ZeoViolet

This is Trey's Story, his Journal. If you haven't read my From The Stars series, though, read that first, or it won't make much sense.

Disclaimer: Buena Vista's got the Power Rangers under wraps and are being very stingy with airing of episodes.....um, anyway, this story, while techically a standalone, takes place within my From The Stars series. However, it is written soley from Trey's POV. It's time he deserved his own story. References to this story, a journal, were made in "Viral Downfall." In here, though, Trey writes from that time until the end of "Finding You." Thanks to Starhawk for the lending of the Color Withdrawl concept. This story was very popular when I first posted it three years ago, and I've been asked repeatedly to put it up again. So here it is, and as a bonus, somewhat revamped. Enjoy it. This, folks, is....

Trey's Story

by ZeoViolet Teaser: Doesn't the title say all?

A journal, with a pen. Pages and pages of paper, a substance I've not often written upon myself--only authors do that, to see their works in the time-honored tradition of old-fashioned *books*, not computer files, images, or whatever--but *books*.

I expect I should not be surprised. I almost expected this out of my sister, one of her gifts to me on her eighteenth birthday, my birthday also- -today I turned 2,518. Maybe she expected me to keep a daily record or something like that, like she has done obsessively since she was first able to keep a pen in her grip. Sharie is obsessed with books in ways even I will never be.

Still, a journal? Me, write in a journal? What does Sharie see in it? I've never done it, so I cannot say for sure.

However, since it is her gift to me and despite myself I am intrigued, I'll give it a try. Sharie has this uncanny ability to at times see more into me than I myself can. She could be onto something.

But looking back on my life, my whole life, I feel compelled to do something else. I have lived much longer than Sharie, and her journals and diaries--kept almost daily since she was two--fill many large volumes by now.

She will have to build them their own house by the time she reaches my age if this keeps up. At the very least, one day she'll have to download them into some computer files to preserve them. Something may happen to her handwritten copies.

Er, okay, this isn't starting out right. I suppose I should not think of a journal in such technical terms. Sharie doesn't. I dont think that is the point.

But day-by-day entries, if possible? I may get around to that, but strangely, holding this volume in my hands and cramping my hand with a pen, I feel the urge to first do something else.

How would I put it? What I would really like to do is put my life in perspective, from my early days till today. Of course, I cannot go into day-by-day, minute detail. That would entail hundreds of volumes, much more than Sharie has kept in her short eighteen years. I can just picture the space that would take up in any storage area.

No, that I cannot do, but what I would like to do is put the finer points, some of the more life-turning points in my life, down on paper, from my birth to present day. It will give me a new perspecitve, and maybe help to soften the blow of old hurts that are best for me to put aside at last. If my own mother could do it, then I could also. However, I must keep out a lot of information I have sworn never to reveal to another living soul, events in my life which must remain forever secret. Those alone could take up a hundred volumes or more, give or take a couple of centurie's worth. From what little I know of my sister's past, maybe hers could take up as much. But she is as mum as I am.

I am only going to select certain events in my life, for now, and put them down. No more and no less. There are some things in my life I'd rather not face again, and that includes incidents that I would be forced to relive if I chose to put them down.

But writing has never been my strong point. Where do I begin in keeping a journal or telling my story? Sharie says a journal is for recording more than thoughts and feelings like a diary is. A journal is for recording what goes on around you also, with detail. But she seems to use diaries and journals both for purposes of spilling when she's upset, for noting odd things that happen, and the like. I can see the use as an emotional outlet, but why keep in gory detail memories you would just love to forget? After my mother wrote her journal after she sent my sister away--without my knowlege--she attempted unsuccessfully to destroy it.

I expect I must begin in the traditional sense. I need to begin somewhere. I am Trey Taryn Triesta, 2518 years old today. If my hand will just quit cramping, I could get more used to the feel again of writing steadily on paper, without end. But that's part of a traditional journal, and I guess I'll stick to it.

I am rather tall, 6'3" barefoot. This makes my sister rather upset, since she is shorter than all the other power rangers--our friendsby several inches. She is only chest-level on me, and Ashey-a power ranger-is the shortest member of the team besides her. Sharie only comes up to barely higher than Ashley's chin, Ashley being almost 5'9". Sharie is only 5'1" and she hates it. I don't know why she is so short, except she blames it on some great-grandfather on our father's side who was also not gifted with height. I've never met the man, since he is long since dust in his grave. But I can see her growing. She will put on a few more inches before she's done, I can tell. If only she'd believe me....

I am getting off topic here. I am letting my mind wander, and my hand is still cramped because it is unused to holding a pen in this position for so long. Anyway, to get back to what I was saying, I am tall. Probably rather like my father was. Looking in a mirror alongside my mother, Jeanette, it is easy to tell I inherited her features for the most part. I have a high forehead, high cheekbones, my jaw is firm. I look no older than a teenager of eighteen or nineteen from Earth, I am told. Twenty tops. That is because a Triforian stops ageing at about that time.

So my face is my mother's. There are few differences I could ever see, except my face is a bit more....masculine. "Duh", as TJ would say. I am a man. I differ in only a few areas. My hair is blue-black for the most part, with a very few auburn highlights it tends to get in very warm weather, under a glistening sun. Like most Triforian men, I keep it short. I don't see what the big deal is about hair, or why human males, after reaching puberty, get hair all over their faces and bodies, and women too, just not on their faces and not so heavily on arms and legs and--oh, well, never mind. They take razorblades to those areas in an attempt to remove it, too. I mean, how dangerous can you get? Triforians, thank goodness, don't have such difficulties. The only body hair we grow is head hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. Nowhere else. When my human friends first learned of this fact--especially the girls--boy, were they envious. I cannot imagine how they take something so sharp and dangerous and rake it across their skin....okay, off track here.

My eyes are not my mother's purple ones, and thank goodness. Purple is a grand color for a woman to have--and rare--, but I would possibly feel a little uncomfortable having her....uh....bewitching eyes, I think is the word? However, Sharie has such eyes, and Carlos acts all lovesick when she turns her gaze on him and smiles.

Anyway, my eyes are dark, pitch-colored. Black, for the most part, rather like my hair. My ear shape is different from Mother's. All three characteristics belong to my deceased father, Teryan. I have often been told I am handsome, and I don't like it much when women or girls pay me too much attention. I have always been a private person, and for centuries, I was never interested in women in the first place. Not since Nikita.

Damn. Just the mention of that name makes my eyes burn with tears still. Can I never really get over her? If it had not been for Delphine....I will get to this later, after I...compose myself--

(Later) I might as well start at the beginning. I was born in the Royal City, Triune II.

It is not odd to me that I remember my birth. When it first became known to my friends, the Rangers of Earth, that this type of memory was common, they gawked in surprise. It seems they remember little or nothing until the age of three or so. It is such a pity, those are the most important developmental years of their lives...

All Triforians are both empathic and telepathic, although the degree varies. Before my birth, I would guess halfway through my mother's term, shortly after I had learned to think and my brain had become conscious, I recall my mind suddenly exploding with new sensations I somehow sensed were not my own. At first I was frightened, then the senations struck me as soothing...my first contact, I expect, with the mother whose body I was curled up in. At that point, it was just her emotions I sensed, but I could hear. I do not know if she knew I was a boy or not before my birth, but I often heard a muffled "Trey" sound coming from her often, as if she spoke to me in my dark and watery world, though at the time, I did not understand what the sounds meant.

It was not until just before my birth that new sensations, loud sounds and voices not my own or from the voices of those who came around me, exploded in my brain. I know now they were the thoughts of others, but I did not know that then. I was scared, witlessly scared, and thrashed about trying to get my mind under control. I expect I bruised my mother's insides thrashing around, trying to get those demonic sounds out of my head. Even today, I feel the sting and the pain of voices not my own, thundering in my mind....

The torment lasted for hours until I somehow locked onto a neonatal sense that must protect most babies from this type of early torment. I felt the demons screaming in my mind reduce to a dull roar I could tolerate. This type of sense is instinct, and fades within weeks of birth, but it gives the parents time to quickly instill in their children how to produce basic mind barriers of their own.

The shock of cold air was the first sensation I ever felt after birth. It was the first indication of the temper I keep carefully hidden, as I screamed my lungs out. But the first sensations I felt of my mother holding me, safe and warm....that vanished.

I have to smile at this memory. Sharie once had me watch an Earth movie called "Look Whose Talking" about a world from a baby's point of view, including the birth scene. I laughed myself nearly unconscious watching this. Sharie assured me it was more or less untrue. She is a physician herself and has attended numeral births. What goes through their minds is not much like what the baby, "Mikey" supposedly thought....besides the cold air and bright lights. She says that is true, very true, although they have no words for it at birth. But the sense for all babies is to loudly protest such annoying intrusions.

After I was born, I recall my mother telling me that she would provide me with many brothers and sisters. It took me several weeks after birth to understand what that word meant...and when I understood--studying, in my baby way, other families with children--I thought it might be interesting. In fact, I began to look forward to it, another kid like myself....

But as I began to grow up, and my parents kept trying and trying for another child, nothing happened. More often than not, I would find my mother in tears every month as she kept trying to get pregnant....and could not.

Children are the very core of Triforian society. There is very few in every town or city, because of how long we live, we don't need to overpopulate our world. There is plenty of time for kids, but those that are born, are cherished beyond measure. They are always raised with siblings, so they don't have to be alone, and can form those long-sought- after bonds. In my boyhood, it became an obsession, as it does with almost every only child in a family. I was certainly not unusual in that respect. Besides that, I had been somewhat premature and was small for my age. I would have liked to have someone smaller than me whom I could take care of, protect, and teach.

When I was six, it finally became clear that my mother could have no more children. I was a kid who did not have much in the way of desires, but that was one of my few obsessions. I was hurt, and it was hard to accept I would not have somebody to be a role model for--that is just how we are. But it was that desire I was forced to stifle and place on a shelf, along with other dreams I would have to do so likewise with in the future. My parents were just as crushed, but nothing more could be done.

When I was six, there was another event that also came to light, much to my astonishment. My mother had occassionally dissappeared every now and then, I was never told why. It did not occur to me why she always wore the color gold as well.

Shortly after my sixth birthday, though, I was taken aside by both parents. Much to my astonishment, my father held me by the shoulders as my mother stood before me. She got this eerie light in her eyes as she shook her wrists, her left and her right ones both. They swirled in a sparkly color as two odd devices appeared on her wrists.

I was still a little boy then, small for my age. I looked up at my mother in awe as she revealed a great secret. "Trey," she said, "It is time you understood the other life I must lead, besides being your mother and Lady of Triforia."

I watched in absolute awe as she crossed her wrists and cried out, "Gold Ranger Power!" I was blinded by a brilliant flash of golden light, and there before me stood the mythical protector of Triforia--The Gold Ranger was my own mother! I felt a sense of pride and curiosity at the same time, I had to ask, "why tell me now?"

"Because," my mother answered as she demorphed, "The power has been passed down from one generation to another. I am a sworn protector of this planet. One day, Trey, the power will be yours if you wish it to be."

Boy, was that something to think about! I listened as she explained in detail the nature of the powers, an as I continued to grow up, I perfected my skills in martial arts as much as I could in order to prepare, as well as my skills in diplomacy. I was my mother's chosen heir to the title of leader of Triforia, I had to become just that.

What I did not understand was why there was such a position in the first place, if our world was declared free. On Triforia, there is no money, no servants, no slaves. The very word slave in our tongue is a vile word, rarely spoken. My mother's job was to take over in matters of war, or the most important decisions of a planetary scale. It was no more important than anybody else's, really. She was a citizen of Triforia like the rest, and our family, though dubbed the Royal Family, had no more or less, or was treated any differently, than anybody else on our world.

I am approaching the timing of a subject that is extremely painful, but hit a naieve boy of thirty-two years at the time harder than anything he could recall.

That year was the year I fell in love.

I have to steel myself to write this. So few know of what happened in those days, it was so painful it reduced a carefree boy from a cheerful young man into somebody nobody recognized. Only my immediate family knew of it initially, later my sister, when she was old enough to understand, was let in on the secret. I eventually told the woman I love today, Delphine, also. I am also beginning to suspect Carlos, Sharie's boyfriend, knows, but I am not certain and I am afraid to ask.

Her name was Nikita. Again my eyes sting, but I must keep on writing, no matter how doggedly the task seems, or how sharp it is cutting into my heart.

Nikita was young herself, only about fifty, when we first met. I literally bumped into her, crashing smack into her when she was visiting with her parents and she was exploring the garden area. I had no idea we even had visitors, and I turned a corner just as she did...and pitched backward, her on top of me.

I was embarrassed as I started to mumble my apologies for being a klutz...until my tongue caught in my throat. I was looking into the bluest eyes I had ever seen, so deep a shade of hue it did not seem real, like the deep blue of twilight. Framing those huge eyes was hair as black as my own...perhaps blacker, although I did not think that as I stared into her eyes.

Those bottomless blue irises caught my attention and seared straight through my young soul like I felt surely was not possible, but was happening.

From that instant, my heart was lost to her. I recall holding onto her and grinning foolishly, instantly lovesick. She fell just as hard for me, and by the next day, we were so head-over-heels the world had ceased to exist for all but the two of us.

She taught me the difference between love between friends and family and love with your true soulmate. Within an almost indecently short time, within ten minutes of meeting, we were kissing, and I knew she felt it as much as I did. It was she who gave me the first in-love kiss of my life, and as we were on fire each time we touched, I learned that intimacy between friends had little overall importance--I was not exactly a virgin, after all--and meant little, compared to giving yourself completely to one who already has your soul. Having my heart flare to life along with my body was the most astounding thing I'd ever felt. Feeling her essence in my head and heart, alongside my own, as we shared our most private moments with each other, becoming truly one and not able to tell who was who--

Look at this, my handwriting is barely legible, and my hands are shaking so. I loved her so much, and everything about her I found fascinating, from her musical skills to her upbeat, charming personality. She was a scientist, and I loved her for it. I sensed her deep love in return, and our soulful bond was complete even before we agreed to marry, wanting to take such an undertaking only three weeks after meeting each other.

We surprised our parents, but met no resistance. Mother said herself, who could resist in the face of such true love? It was wildly obvious even to her that our hearts were in our eyes looking at each other. I have never lost the term of hopeless romantic, even after what happened later. Our parents approved, and we arranged for a simple, quite union.

Two days before I was to make Nikita my wife, my life shattered to dust....

(later) Sharie is by my side now as I write this. She found me in my room, holding the journal and the tears running down my face. My hand was frozen, and I guess I made no objection, letting her read what I had written so far. She held me for a few minutes, giving me silent support and asking if she should have given me the journal in the first place, seeing as how much pain it is bringing to the surface. Of course not! This is something I feel compelled to do, though with her at my side now and all our relatives gone back to Triforia for the night, I feel better about relating this. I stifle the coughs of our recent illness as I write on.

Even before I got the summons to the hospital, I could feel it when the accident happened. I felt like the pyramidas had been slammed into my stomach. Her lifeforce that never left my mind began to shake and quiver uncontrollably as the life was positively wrenched from her body. The pain she felt was mine, and it was hellish agony.

A lab accident. Deadly poison that killed her swiftly but painfully.

She was still alive, in terrible pain, when I reached her side. The paramedics working frantically over her prone form could not force me from her side, from holding her....and she opened her eyes only once, briefly, to focus on me, gasped the words, "I'm sorry, my love," and died in my arms.

I let her go, then collapsed, everything going completely dark. The shock, feeling her lifeforce inside me snap so abruptly and going gunmetal cold, overshadowed all my senses. All that was left was an aching, almost indifferent numbness.

At the time, a dark shadow fell on my life, and I was no more than an empty shell, barely reacting to those around me. I was suicidal for a while, but my mother's stern admonitions soon stopped that. Until then, I had wanted so desperately to join Nikita on the other side, hang my future responsibilities! It took all my mother's efforts to persuade me otherwise that I must indeed go on, so much was dependent upon me.

After my initial suicidal urges had been forcibly quelled, and knowing I could not let my grief out, not even to cry--I never did--an icy, indifferent numbness overcame me, and unalterably changed parts of my personality forever, and deadened my heart so much I could hardly feel it there.

Even now, with the two tears that Sharie caught me with, I cannot touch that pain. My tears, and only two, are little more than gut reaction. It is something that I fear will never be resolved, even with Delphine's presence. It'll be forever a part of me.

But standing by Nikita's grave a few weeks after her death--when I could finally steel myself to be at her final resting place--I felt my insides flop out again, very briefly feeling under the numbness, and at that moment, I made a silent vow I was to live up to for many, many centuries to come.

I would never allow myself to love again.

Sharie's arms tighten on my shoulders as she sees those words. I do not mind, I am finally able to share my most inner thoughts with someone. But at the time, I made that vow, and my heart was deadened. I turned off the faucets of natural love, that part of me growing coldly distant. I could feel only the type of love that is reserved for family, nobody else could get in. I would not date, I would not even try to indulge in casual affairs. I shut off the sensual side of myself and forgot about it for the longest time.

Duty became my world. I became duty-obsessed---and with a vengence. Almost a workaholic. And I did not care whether my jobs could get me hurt or not. Logic told me it wasn't the most healthy way to go, but had I splintered back then, Trey of Heart would most certainly have been the coldest of the three levels of my soul others could see. I just did not care about myself or who I was anymore. All I existed for was duty, and all my caring I had left was generated towards others, helping them and glad I could do something, at least, right, since I could not help Nikita. I still felt, but the unalterable fact remained....whatever pain, physical or emotional, I now kept buried and never revealed to anyone. I had closed in on myself. I must not burden others.

When I was a century old, my mother deemed it time for me to assume the powers of the Gold Ranger. She had held them for many mellennia, she decided it was my turn to assume control.

I still remember the classic words she used, "Golden Power, take flight. Trey, my son, the Golden Power Staff is now yours." There were tears in her eyes as my hand reached up to grip the staff, and I felt for an instant as if fire had consumed my being--then an odd feeling of peace stole over me. The way I saw changed as I was suddenly standing there, morphed, and the greatest of power I had ever felt was rushing through my body, enhancing my senses more than the average Triforian, and making me stronger. She introduced me personally to the Golden Power's companion, the Pyramidas. I was enchanted by what she had bestowed on me, and I swore to uphold the honor and virtue that the Golden Powers gave to the bearer. It gave my life new purpose and meaning, and I suddenly had a real way to focus my energies.

Like mother had, I began to travel, a young prince testing his powers and making sure he could use them. I was an unstoppable fighter most times, though I was captured on occassion, at one time held prisoner for nearly two years. My mother assured me, when I finally broke out, that it was nothing compared to what she had been through--at one point, she had been away from Triforia as a prisoner of war for ten years, when she was only a thousand years old. My grandparents only knew she was alive because she was very occassionally permitted to send letters. At last, when that world was torn apart by war, she was released by a sympatheic fraction who felt she did not belong. They let her go, and she returned to Triforia and did not leave again for five years.

Then there was the first time I had color withdrawl. Mother had told me that from then on I had to always wear some form of gold, no matter how small. But she never told me why....until she found me completely in a warped-out state, my mind blank because I had forgotten to put on something gold-colored. I was sitting in my room staring at the wall, had been all night and most of the day until somebody had to come looking for me. I quickly learned my lesson, and have rarely suffered from it since.

I was almost five hundred years old by the first time I met Zordon. Since little about Triforia is known to the general universe, I expect he did not know I was the Gold Ranger, it never really came up. I was puzzled when, two thousand years later, he did not recognize me in the least when I went to help Earth....but that is another story.

It was nothing big. He "attended" a simple meeting in a place that could accomodate an interdimensional being. It was there that I learned more about this mythical sage, how he was protecting and guarding a planet called "Earth."

At the time, I wondered why. Earth was, like many planets, informally assigned a Ranger Team, but it was so backwards and small, the planet was all but forgotten about by the general evil group. It's inhabitants were primitive, stone-age, and most said savage and evil, who listened to their instincts and not their brains. But they were sentient, and Zordon thought he saw some good in them. So he stayed in his command center with his robot assistant to keep watch on the planet, and if the place ever did come under attack, he would call upon the planet's young people to aid and defend their world. No matter if they were still primitive enough to be dancing naked around fires yelling war-cries. Humanity deserved it's chance, and he intended to see to it that it happened.

I expect even by then, two thousand years ago, the information was outdated, at least on Earth's eastern continents, where many great civilizations were already springing up, I am told was happening at the time. But I paid no real attention.

Shortly after this, after I had reached the age of 500, my mother decided it was time to pass on her title to me. She would no longer be the leading Lady of Triforia, and in a simple, private ceremony, she proclaimed me Trey, Lord of Triforia. Since I had been at her side for centuries, this was an easy undertaking, and she was always there to encourage me.

However, I was completely on my own, and I was now a man, tall and fully developed, instead of a weak, undersized little boy born premature. This was still during my darker days of my shut-down heart, and I took to my new duties with great seriousness, protecting my world and seeking out others that needed my help. I ignored my mother's subtle urgings to go on with my love life and at least try to find someone else. I never wanted to love again, not after Nikita, and I stuck to my vow throughout the eons.

However, I did learn that life did indeed go on, just rarely the way I felt it should.

So, I had basically become what I am today--a fighter, fighting against the ever-plauging evil. I continued to do my job with a vengence, sometimes hiding my identity and sometimes not, it depended on the circumstances. Many times I was in adventures that hurt dreadfully, in some way or other, and not just physically. Lalinka, I made a vow of silence, don't give me that look. I am aware you have done the same thing. You have yourself been through battles that have left permanent emotional scars--heaven knows I have tried to drag it out of you without much success.

It went on this way until about four hundred years ago, when I found myself facing an upheaval no Triforian should ever face, not even a planetary leader. Once in a while, there is a person or two among us that sees it in themselves to gravitate towards the dark side. It is rare because of a Triforian's naturally peaceful nature, but it does happen on ocaasion. Some have been because of the influence of evil spells or mental imbalances. Triforia has spawned very, very few true criminals since the shadows before our civilization arose. And most captured can be rehabilitated if there was sufficent cause to think they were truly not at fault.

It is only those with the most henious, dreadful of crimes, true evil villians and heartless murderers, who are perfectly sane otherwise, that must be dealt with harshly. And this man--I will not degrade this journal by writing his name--was perhaps the most hideously evil villian Triforia ever sprang. When he was captured, I faced a difficult decision.

He was completely sane, cold, and calculated. He was heartless, and he did not care what I did to him or not. In fact, he wanted me to do it. And because Triforia had suffered so because of him, there was only one choice I could make to ensure the universe never again suffered at his hands.

It is only individuals like these that cause Triforia's only legal death penalty to come into sway. I had no real choice, the peaceful public of Triforia wanted this monster gone. He could not be rehabilitated, and if he was simply allowed to rot in prison, he would escape and rise again. This type of decision is one of the few where my word is final on such matters, though our citizens may appeal if they think they could persuade me otherwise.

But nobody stepped in to try and plead for this villian's life. I sentenced him to die, and when I read the verdict before--almost literally-- all of Triforia, there was such a cheer, and his eyes seemed to laugh at me as he was led away. I got sick, and as soon as I was alone, I went into the bathroom and threw up with tears on my face.

He was executed a few days later without a hitch, mercifully by lethal injection. As soon as it was over, I threw up again and tried to banish it from my mind forevermore. But I could not. I had done what I had hoped never to do--be ultimately responsible for deciding the fate of one of my people in such a fashion. I hope never to do it again, for this criminal's cowardly screams and curses at the last second before he went unconscious will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I, like every other member of my race before me, had to deal with an unsual problem our people possessed. Triforians are called such because they are, well, Trifold. Even here it is difficult to explain, the word 'trifold' has caused a huge misconception among outsiders that we are literally joined triplets, rarely splintering into a group of three identical people.

*This is untrue.* Every Triforian has but one soul, like a human or an Aquitian has. But according to our religious beliefs and our genetics, while we live on this plain of existence, our soul has three distinct levels. It is believed that splintering was commonplace in primordial times by our animal ancestors, but we no longer need to and have forgotten how simple animals would have rejoined. It is now considered an affliction, an unwanted curse, since the rare times it does happen, the three levels of the soul don't always successfully rejoin. And if one part is killed in some fashion, rejoinder by the other two parts is impossible, for they would not be able to easily coexist.

Rarely, they have been able to, but more often, they follow the deceased part to the grave. When I was young, I once had a friend who suffered such a fate of splintering, and his Heart part was killed. The other two tried to live, but they were shallow without the third part to make them complete. They did not live for more than a few years before wasting away.

I, like every other member of my race, strove to find some solution to this problem, but it was unsuccessful. We just kept on searching.

Three hundred years ago, I met a boy who was to change my perspective on chance forevermore.

He was very young, a brand-new scientist, only fifteen years of age and very smart for his age. I met him when we were discussing cultivation techniques to improve food production on our world, and it surprised me to see a kid among them, a short boy who was just starting to undergo the ravages puberty can bring.

His name was Troy, and for the likes of me I could not tell why he struck me as so painfully familiar. He had blue-black hair and deep, deep blue eyes. We became friends and he told me of his secret wish to help the universe in the warrior ways. He liked being a scientist but he said he could feel the stars calling.

I did not discover for several months why he was so familiar, since he did not talk about his family much. I did not even know his last name until he mentioned it was Tripan.

That brought me up dead short. "Tripan?" I had repeated. "Where are you from, again, Troy?"

"D'kor province," he said shortly. "I sort of followed in my deceased sister's footsteps. My folks wanted me to, since I was a surprise baby, after their other two kids were gone before they even reached the century mark."

I felt like my heart was in my throat. "Your sister was a scientist?" I repeated. The last name and how he looked was starting to send chilling signals down my spine.

"Sure, from what I know, Nikita was a great scientist....until she was killed in an accident."

I almost fell over in shock, but kept my composure until I got home. All night, I walked the grounds of the Royal House, my heart thudding in my chest. I had finally allowed myself to have a best friend--and who did it turn out to be, but Nikita's brother!

It hurt, in a way, but I was not willing to give up such a friendship because of such a fact. It was certainly *not* Troy's fault. I could put up with a couple of stinging reminders, for he was and still is a fine man. Troy soon grew into his brain, and today, he has realized his dream of becoming a ranger, having been entrusted with the legendary Nightstriker Warrior powers.

There is one thing he does not know, though, and I do not want to personally tell him. He has no idea I was his sister's lover, and that we had been engaged to marry before she died. If he ever does find out, it won't come out of me.

I'm just not sure he should know, and definetly not from my lips. He's a close friend, and our friendship was, after all, forged before I knew he was Nikita's much-younger brother. What would he think if he knew how she died in my arms, my loyal love, and I could not do a damn thing to save her?

Ow, Sharie, you're squeezing my hand too hard--Although I do appreciate it, Lalinka, thanks.

Finally, as time went on, that part of me that had lain dormant for so long, my heart, started, of it's own violation, to stir again. I started to notice women again, but I was too afraid to trust myself to love. I made no overtures when I thought a girl was pretty or had charm, but it could not be denied that I was much more receptive than I once was. I still do not understand why it happened, but slowly, my heart was somehow preparing itself to take the consequences and joys that love once again brings. Still, I remained distant and afraid for the most part, and my mother had to resign herself to the fact she would most likely not have grandchildren, no children by me, ever!

It was just as well my heart began to stir and see beauty around it again. It was around that time, eighteen years ago, that an event happened in my life that turned it completely upside down...for the better.

My mother had come back, injured, from a rescue mission, and suffering from overdoses of various types of radiations. It was assumed that she would be overly tired and pale for a week or two--but much to my surprise and distress, and I expect her own, she continued to get sick constantly, though she tried her best to hide this from me. She had a scared, worried look on her face, and after one day, disbelief and fear also settled into her features. She started to walk around very, very carefully, as if she were made of porcelain or were carrying something fragile. No matter how much I prodded, for several weeks she would not tell me what was wrong....as if she was afraid that something bad would happen.

Finally, a mission took me away for a week, and when I returned, I was glad to see some color in her face, but it did not dawn on my why she had been wearing the looser clothes that hid her figure. Since it wasn't possible, why would it have occured to me to think it? Father was away, and she was alone when she called me into the study where she was sitting tiredly on the couch.

"I know you have been worried, Trey," she began as I sat beside her. An odd look crossed her face for a moment, then she smiled weakly and went on. "You are right, I have been hiding something from you. Something signficant. I did not want to tell you until I was certain....that nothing would happen, this early."

I felt my adrenaline level rise. She had me on the edge of my seat with worry. "What?" I had to ask, and my voice must have shown my fear. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is...wrong, specifically." she answered evasively.

My heart fell to my stomach. "Then why all the secrecy? What...is going on?"

She took my hand in hers, an odd light in her eyes. "This," she said simply. Much to my surprise, she laid my hand on her stomach--and my heart fell from where it had been in my stomach directly to my toes when I began to realize it was not flat. Underneath my fingertips, I felt a continual fluttering. A tiny presence, vaguely touching my mind, was also present in the faint thumps registering beneath my hand. *No*, my brain cried, *It could not be...*

In short, my eyes flew to meet my mother's in total astonishment, and her eyes were glittering brightly. The smile on her face was hesistant, but also had a sweet sereness that I think only can be seen in expectant mothers, and an expression I'd never before seen on *her* face. So *that* is why I've heard many men say that their wives are the most beautiful when they're pregnant.

"Is....is it true?" I think I whispered. She nodded. I suddenly felt as if a major part of my life, and one of my greatest dreams, had been handed over to me on a silver platter. Mother was getting the second baby she had so longed for, and I would finally be able to experience that special bond I had always envied other siblings having.

I was not able to move my hand from her abdomen, not when I had felt the first tenative stirrings of a life I had so longed for. The child, yet unborn, already had a hold on me, and I could already sense a connection. "Why...did you wait so long to tell me?" I must have sounded choked with emotion. She had to be almost two months along--our pregnancies are five months--for me to be able to feel the baby kick.

She shook her head, and suddenly sounded frustrated. "I did not want to tell you until I was sure I was no longer in danger of miscarrying."

She must have felt me shudder at those words, for her hand touched mine on her abdomen and covered it reassuringly.

"It is better now, but the danger isn't over yet. My second pregancy nearly ended soon after it began, Trey. I was in danger for weeks of losing the baby I have sought after for so long. There was no need to worry you needlessly. This baby is causing my body more trouble than even you caused me, and there is a good chance that the baby will be premature like you were."

I hugged her tightly, and my eyes misted over. It was at that moment that my heart finally fell back into place, making me ready to love again. I finally began to accept the idea that perhaps I *could* find love again, after all, and I would not deny the opprotunity when it arose.

Sharie had poked me upon reading those words, and I was startled when I looked at her to see tears in her eyes. I was surprised to discover that this was a fact she had never before known for certain, it was her timely arrival that was so pivotal in my life in such a way! Apparently, it never crossed her mind how pivotal and precious she had been, to restore me to life so I could be me again. She did not consider herself important enough to do such a turn on somebody's life, but Sharie, read this carefully....you *were*, and you *are*, understand?

Okay, she is a hard hugger at times, but she just now hugged me fiercely, and I heard her mind whisper how gratified she is to have someone like me as her brother...don't I deserve it? ...Ow, okay, Lalinka, don't poke me, I was just kidding....

As big as mother grew, she was right about one thing. Her pregnancy was difficult. She did not leave Triforia, and in fact did not do much traveling that did not entail teleportation. She was only barely under four and a half months when she went into labor. Thank gods tests assured us that the baby was okay, healthy and with mature lungs, and would survive birth...if my mother lived to see her born.

Giving birth to Sharie nearly took her life as it did when she gave birth to me. But that was not on her mind as she sat there, gasping in pain as wave after wave of contractions drained her strength. She was so white, and after each spasm of pain she grew whiter. I don't understand how some women do this so easily and for others, it's a brush with death. The doctors still don't understand why she had such trouble carrying me and later, Sharie.

I was scared out of my wits, my father could not stop my pacing. He didn't act near as worried as I was, nor did he show any fear. Instead, he was jubilant. He finally laughed and forced me into a chair, saying that I was acting as if this were *my* first child instead of *his* second--it isn't funny, Lalinka. I expect in a way I did see it as such. This pregancy had been a one-in-a-million shot, and the doctor had warned my mother that it was unlikely ever to happen again. A freak accident of nature had led to the creation of the baby she carried....nothing more.

Sharie, don't glare at me. That is simply what the doctor said. He did not mean *you* were the accident of nature. Just the circumstances involved were, oh, say a billion or so to one?

Mother was very pale from blood loss by the time it came for the baby to be born. I was even more scared now, holding one of her hands as Father held her other one. I thought mother would snap my bones, she was gripping them so tightly...

After four failed attempts at pushing, mother was nearly unconscious. They were about to do an emergency fetal transport, as the baby was beginning to show signs of distress.

Of course, my sister wants me to interject. She had felt like she was suffocating for a minute there....

But Mother somehow found the strength to try one more time. She gasped and pushed hard...and finally succeeded. All of a sudden the doctor was saying, "There you go," and the loudest baby screams I had ever heard filled the room. Nearly deafened me, but what a glorious sound!

"Seems to me you can still hear just fine," Sharie wants me to interject.

Well, what do you expect, Lalinka? I know the air was cool compared to where you had been before, but you made it sound like you had been born in Earth's Antartica!

"Want me to scream right now and you can compare the two sounds?" she asks flippantly, but with a smile.

Dimly, I had heard the doctor announce, "Congratulations, it is a beautiful little girl." It barely reached my ears over the baby's racket--Lalinka, stop poking me!--because I could not stop staring at the infant she was holding up triumphantly.

Lalinka, you were smaller than I had been. Under five pounds, while I had been about 5 1/4 pounds. But still, you had a long, thin body and the most amazing shock of golden hair I had ever seen on a baby. You were thin and somewhat delicate since you would not stay where you belonged for the time you should have, but otherwise you were fine. Your skin looked like translucent porcelain to me because you weren't on time, either. But you were kicking and screaming, and no doubt a strong little thing. As soon as the nurse cleaned you up and wrapped you loosely in a thin blanket, you shut up as she handed you to Mother.

She held you, and I heard her whisper your name, the name she had chosen, Sharie Jeanette Triesta. Miracle Princess, in our language. Naming a baby, by tradition, is a woman's exclusive right. The final decision was hers. Though she told me once my name had almost been Tyler, and yours had almost been Ariel or one of a dozen other pickings...but that's a different story.

"Be glad she did not name you Zeus," I heard you whisper that under your breath, Lalinka. Later you and I are going to have a little talk about names.....

Mother could not hold my new sister long, because she was too weak. Father took her from my mother's arms just before she fainted from blood loss. She was all right, just weak for a few hours. I was too overwhelmed to hold my new sister at first, I thought I would break such a tiny baby. I let my father fuss over you while I went outside for a little while, trying to clear my head and absorb what I had just seen.

It was not until a couple of hours later that I slipped back inside the hospital to find that they were finishing a big battery of tests on you, since you were a bit undersized. A doctor picked you up and made sure I was holding you right, then left me alone with you.

I was still scared I would break such a tiny baby, for I had never held an infant so small. But her eyes opened, and I was startled to see they were purple, like my mother's. I felt suddenly as if I were falling, down, down- -when I was already sitting. Sharie, at that moment you gave me the greatest joy I had ever experienced--the power of love I had never felt in such a way. I expect it was at that moment, looking into your eyes, that our own personal bond--empathic, telepathic, and emotional was forged--one that has not let up since. For the first time in melennia, I felt whole.

*a few minutes later* After I wrote that, Sharie's hand tightened on my shoulder. I saw her eyes were faintly sheened again, but then she told me something she'd never said explicitly before, never in words, though I did sense it and still sense it.

"It was you I reached out to first," she said in a bare whisper, and I saw her eyes had taken her back in time. "Even before my father and mother, and they even held me before you did--it was you I felt compelled to reach out to first. It was you I wanted holding me and being there--you first."

That revelation almost made me cry. It *did* make me hug her very hard for several long moments. Lalinka....

Life after that incident resumed--but with a difference. I had some lessons to learn in caring for a baby longer than a typical babysitting period. Feeding and changing I knew how to do, at least when mother did not feed you naturally, and I had to bottlefeed on occassion. Our diapers are much thinner than a human's, but that does not make changing a baby any more pleasant--don't snicker, Sharie.

What was difficult was trying to train you to build up mental barriers. It soon became apparent something unusual was wrong with you. I carried you up whole nights while you screamed and cried, and knowing that your poor head was thundering with minds not your own--but it did not become apparent it was truly a problem until your mental powers were tested--and blasted the results right out of the water. It seems we had a child of the mental elite on our hands--in the category known simply as The Ones. No wonder you cried--you must have been deafened, yelling shrilly in acute pain.

Mercifully, you listened to the mental lessons we instilled in you from your earliest newborn days. Probably just to get some peace and quiet in your head, you learned to drown out the battering of other minds. I don't think we even needed to really teach you how not to ever enter another person's mind without their permission--you hated what you were born with.

I was glad, also, when I did not have to pace with you all night anymore, though, trying to drown out your mental misery by blocking it for you-- mostly unsuccesfully. If I ever have a child of my own, I never want him or her to go through that nightmare. What I had experienced as a baby was nothing compared to that.

Life went on, and Sharie grew from a baby into a toddler. Long before she could talk, she understood our language, the advantages of being telepathic. By about three months, she was talking our ears off--or trying to. Most infants cannot be easily understood until about six months of age.

Ha. Sharie asked me how Father and myself came up with the handle "Lalinka." I cannot believe she does not know this by now....

What do you mean, Sharie, that when I started calling you that you was not sure for a time what your real name was? Of course, you were barely a few days old then....

Oh, well. Lalinka is an ancient handle, with affectionate overtones. I also understand it is a Polish word with a similar meaning. It is not too common, but it seemed appropriate, I guess. I guess I just started using it, and did not stop. Father picked up on it, until we were both calling you that more often than your given name.

By now my hand is so sore, I can barely write this. I have glanced at the clock; it is two in the morning! I've been writing this for seven hours! And we have been so obsessed, we have not stopped to think...

****

About a week has passed since I last picked up this journal and wrote in it. I look back over the numerous pages I filled spilling out what bits and pieces of my life came to mind. Sharie is not here beside me right now, but she told me last night that I should indeed consider myself a writer. It amused me, for I never considered myself to have any talent whatsoever with the written word. I am still not sure about this, but I feel again compelled to write this evening.

Unlike most people, her alone I do not mind reading what I write. These are my private thoughts, and if it were anyone else I'd not want these words read. Sharie is different, though. She shared so much of what I've written.

Although, I cannot believe how much I left out, and how much sounds so...flat. Centuries upon centuries worth I dare not write, even here. I have no doubt Sharie, who has lived lifetimes in her eighteen years, is the same way. And now I am repeating myself. Some writer.

Where was I when I left off? Oh, yeah, after I finally had the sibling, my sister, I had always wanted so much.

I remember how small she remained. I had been small, but not even as small as she was. She remained a slim child, for she never really had the babyhood chubbiness some infants have, her prematurity probably being a contributing factor. Even now, her eyes are large on her face, and back then they were luminous. She walked about like a fairy once she discovered that she had enough strength in her legs and feet to support herself. She treated crawling like the plague.

I also saw that she was the person I had been looking for. As Lord of Triforia, it was my responsibility to make sure that I had an heir of some sort, should I one day be killed or decide for some reason to abdicate. Since even at that point I could not imagine myself married with children, Sharie seemed like the perfect solution. Besides, she was so much younger than me she might as well be it anyway. Whomever the Lord of Triforia chooses, it does not have to be his children. It can be whomever he wants. I remember history lessons saying that the title has passed out of our family line many, many times because of this....occassionally for more than a couple of generations. Once or twice, there was even a Lord of alien origin. It always kept coming back to our family line, though, and has not left it again for eleven generations before mine. Fate?

At any rate, all it took was a simple ceremony. Sharie was now next in line to be Lady of Triforia one day.

And after Sharie could walk and talk sufficently, she developed a habit at the time I did not exactly regard with much fondness. Getting up early and watching the sunrise. Every morning she would be up, bounding into my room and jumping on my bed until I got up. I always grumbled a bit at her, but she was right in a way, I always forgot about it when I held her on my shoulders and we watched Triforia's sunrise together.

Surprisingly, today she has retained this habit, except she does not deliberately wake me up anymore. But I often get up anyways and watch Earth's gorgeous sunrises with her, because old habits are not easy to break, no matter what.

There was one obligation that my parents did not release me from, and that was assuming responsibility for my sister. It is by tradition that I had to teach her the finer points of things, and perhaps my first mistake was introducing her to the computer, and at nine months of age, teaching her that it could do numerous things....including access a library.

She taught herself to read about then, too. I taught her what letters were for. She went behind my back and figured out the rest for herself, and blasted beyond children's novels before I knew it. A month after showing her letters, I found her toddling around in the library, paging through books--and not ones with pictures.

"What are you doing?" I had to ask. I did not read until I was three. Not that I cared much for it until that point, anyway...

She fixed me with her serious look. "I read," she answered, tying my tongue. "I be small for other fun things, not too small to read."

I was flabbergasted. She was already taking our knowledge infusion systems to their limits.

My astonishment was greater when I saw that not only did she recognize words, she understood their contents. Forget trying to keep her innocent of worldy matters, so she could have a dream childhood. It is embarrassing to know your kid sister knows about how babies are made by the time she is a year old!

And when she grew tall enough to reach the computer from a chair, she became glued to it. I had to force her away from it, and encourage her to do different things, or no doubt she would have taken root there.

Since she was small, many things did not interest her because of her size, things that usually-larger, huskier Trifroian children enjoy. I finally introduced her to Triforian martial arts just so she could be involved in atheltics--I was glad when she adopted it as a second obsession; I was not so happy when she absorbed what I knew so fast I was forced to retrain myself to keep up with her. Of course, I remember that when I had started it, I had been much the same way.

It is not a widely known fact that I sing. I have a tenor voice and I love music--hence my large collection of musical works from around the known universe. But since I have always been the quiet type, it was not made a big deal of.

This was one talent I was pleased to share with my sister. I sat her in front of the piano and explained the basics of how it worked. She poked at it for a moment, then heard my simple explanation on scales. Within seconds she was going--then she started to add variations on her own time. I was glad she had some raw talent in that area, though her hands were so tiny she had to do a sort of "rolling" technique for more difficult pieces. Even today, she tells me, she has to do this for certain pieces meant to be played by a man's larger hands, which she does not like to do.

She had a light, lyrical voice that caught attention, but she did not like to be in the center of things, so getting her to sing was a major undertaking. You know, I have not heard her sing once since she and I have reunited? She has come upon me singing along with, embarrassingly enough, Ricky Martin or the Beatles from earth on occassion. I don't much care, but I don't sing in front of others much myself. Maybe I was a bad influence.

Of course, I taught her to dance also from the day she could walk confidently without fear of falling. I can recall my pride when she finally mastered the dances, after her initial difficulty and distaste. I still don't think she is wild for dancing, but she did grow to accept and enjoy it once in a while.

Life was idyllic for the three years that followed her birth. I was happier than I had ever been in my life, at least for many, many centuries. I had a sister--albeit the fact I was fully grown--and my family had resurrected my very soul from the depths of a hellish depression. Little did I know that soon, I would have reason to be plunged back into it--but at least I had somebody to hold onto this time, somebody who could understand me better than even my parents.

Like my parents had done with me, we kept to the old tradition of keeping mum about certain subjects until my sister reached six years of age, including certain coming-of-age matters and the identity of the Gold Ranger. Considering her mental powers, it was astonishing she never found out about the Gold Ranger's existence. I personally had not known until shortly before my sixth birthday that such a person existed, much less it was my own mother at the time.

I realize now what a mistake keeping her in the dark was. That law is now officially abolished. I was the one who tossed it out the window.

My father, Teryan, was a magnificent man. He was kind, intelligent, and had a wonderful sense of humor. He himself was a great fighter, a top warrior of Triforia, and a master diplomat as well, an interesting contradiction that gave him the reputation of being indestructible, of being able to reach anyone.

I still don't know exactly how he got the disease that killed him. Some festering infection, I believe. It happened in such a short span....barely a day. Twenty-four hours after he first complained about not feeling good....he was gone. Just gone.....

I never really cried over his death. Locking up our emotions has seemed to be a curse Sharie and I have been plagued with most of our lives....until recently. Our reunion and the many devastating adventures that have nearly destroyed our bodies and souls has finally opened us up somewhat and allowed us to lean on each other.

But even then, I suppose, I was stubborn. All of us were at his side at his death. He looked magnificent still as he reached out and grasped Sharie's tiny hand. "My wife," he whispered painfully as tears streaked down my mother's face. "My son....my Lalinka, my precious daughter. I love you, and will love you...always...."

Those were his last words. He was still grasping Sharie's hand when his chest gave a death rattle....and his eyes glazed over and closed for the last time.

I could not move. I was frozen, completely frozen. Sharie struggled out of our mother's grasp, and whimpered, "Daddy..." as she curled up by his bedside for a solid five minutes. She did not cry, but I knew she understood perfectly what was going on. Suddenly she jumped up, evaded Mother's grasp, and ran out of the room, hightailing it outdoors. She was not found until late that evening, high in the branches of a golden everyellow tree. I do not doubt it had at least crossed her mind to jump, at least breifly. When we finally found her, she came down without protest, but would not let a soul touch her. It was as if she had aged years in that one day...her first true experience with the cruelties of death.

Oh, yes, she understood as well as I did. Since learning to read, she had taken advantage of our system of 'knowledge infusion' and was already persuing acadamey courses for kids six times her age. And now she had lost an important part of innocence I had not lost until that dreadful day in my thirty-second year when I lost Nikita. The old-soul look in her eyes was heartbreaking to see, even when I looked into a mirror and saw the same look on my own face.

I was numb, in emotional shock. I hardly wanted anybody around me, only Sharie seemed to be a welcome presence. Unfortunately, she did not want anybody around her, either. She ceased eating for nearly three days, even if I tried to force her to eat. We could not get anything down her throat except water. She did not cry, scream, or grieve, going as silent as I was. I hope to this day I was not the one who passed this influence onto her...

(later) I expect I did not hear the bang of the door as Sharie arrived home. She found me on the couch holding the journal and staring off into space. I also expect she knew my thoughts had taken me back in time. I let her read what I had written, and I heard her gasp when she came to my last sentence.

"Of course not!" was the first words out of her mouth. "Trey, I was trying not to hurt you any more than necessary after Papa died! It was certainly *not* your doing!"

She hugged me for a long moment, before kissing me quickly. "I love you no matter what," she whispered, hugging me again. "Don't ever forget it." She has left to go fix a late dinner, leaving me to write this all down.

I am glad to hear your words, Lalinka, but still some part of me worries, and always will, no matter how much I am convinced otherwise.

To get back to what I was writing, for three days Sharie kept her distance from physical contact, and not eating. I finally gave up, seeing as it was doing her no real harm...yet. If it was to go one for much longer, though, I would have to intervene again. Sharie was a slim child as she is a slender woman now, and she did not have much weight she could afford to lose. She had never lost the delicate porcelain look from her preemie days, it made her weight loss even more evident.

I did not tell her that it hurt even worse because she avoided me as much as possible for those days, as well....she only said that the eyes were windows to the soul....and I guessed it hurt too much to look into my eyes, that were identical to Father's.

It went on like this, until she came upon me sitting in the gardens, staring at nothing in particular. I was feeling numb, as usual. She still did not touch me, but for the first time in days, she stayed silently nearby, climbing into a small tree nearby and not saying a word. I wished I could hold her and try to comfort her somehow, but she was out of my reach. I felt even worse when she suddenly stared at me for a long moment, her face unreadable, really looking into my eyes for the first time in days- -and jumped down from the tree and ran out of the garden area.

I buried my face in my hands. At that moment I felt worse than I had standing by my father's side when he died. I almost felt as if she was rejecting me, and my chest tightened considerably. I had never been so miserable in eons.

Which was why I was startled by a pair of little hands tugging at my own, attempting to pull my arms out of the way. I looked up to see Sharie, her eyes haunted, tugging at me as she pulled my arms open. I was too surprised to move for a moment as she hesistated for a moment, then crawled into my lap, locking her tiny arms aorund my neck and leaning against me, shaking hard and breathing heavily.

Slowly my arms slid around her tiny body, hugging her close and hearing her murmer, "I'm sorry, Trey, truly I am. Please don't hate me...."

I just pulled her down so she was cradled against my chest, my chin resting in her long hair. She held onto me like a lifeline....and I her.

"Trey....I miss Daddy..." I heard her little voice whisper, and my eyes squeezed shut. Two lone tears ran down my face....those were the only tears I ever shed. But it was because she finally turned to me. At that moment, I felt just a little bit better, and I was certain we would be all right....as long as we were a family.

I was startled to see Sharie come up behind me. She had obviously been there for awhile, for she had a look of pain on her face and two lone tears were on her cheeks.

"I had suddenly realized how selfish I had been, to want to be away from the world, when you needed me so much," she whispered. "The thought of you hurting was more than I could stand, especially when I looked into your eyes at last, and saw what was there...and knowing part of it was my fault."

Of course not, Lalinka. We all grieve in our own ways...and unfortunately, we just chose to withdraw from the universe for awhile...even from each other.

She has not cried anymore, but she sits and leans against my side, staring off into space.

Sharie and I, I expect, managed to swallow the pain and bury it deeply. I still miss Father like fire, but I am so used to it I don't think....I cannot really find the words to describe it here. Too difficult. But time passed, and suddenly Sharie was four years of age and my uncle Tristain came by to visit.

Uncle Tristain is so much like my father I am continually astonished. They look like identical twins, and are only a year apart in age. At the time, I secretly felt sorry for my uncle, for I knew, as well as my parents, that he carried a secret torch for my mother, that only seemed to grow throughout the years. So he always kept his visits short. He never sullied his honor or my mother's by professing how he felt, or acting upon his feelings. But she knew, and my father. It did not stop all three of them from enjoying a close friendship.

This time, though, he more or less stayed around Triforia. He did not dare approach my mother in any way, avoiding her in any way other than friendship. I overheard him muttering to himself once that he would not hurt his brother's spirit by going after his widow. But he was delighted to have a new neice to spoil....and he tried, hard, to do it. But Sharie was already wise enough to not succeed. Still, she enjoyed his attention. He took to calling her Lalinka, and sort of became a second father to both of us, I believe, upon reflection. He stuck around, and we moved into and through Sharie's fifth year. And despite his vows, gradually, I noticed him and my mother, probably out of her own lonliness, grow closer to each other. Their relationship would have most likely blossomed soon after, except for fate.

Then, the disaster that was to shatter all of our lives to dust yet again struck as Triforia went to war.

Those Dryseran parasites tried, over and over again, to invade Triforia. I slaved along with the Triforian army to fight the foe, and they still kept coming....and one of their leaders set his lustful sights on my sister.

I only heard her screaming my name, and she was...gone. That horrible, horrible dark day is seared into my brain forevermore, as I was terrified she was gone...and I did not know where. I did not nead a data disc like Andros' to remember that horrible cry of her voice. Mother searched everywhere for her daughter as I was forced into one battle after another, and almost fatally wounded several times....usually when I was unmorphed and fighting alongside the Triforian Army.

Why is it so hard to write about this? So hellish? These are but the most scant details of what really happened, but I might very well go insane writing them all. For three nightmarish weeks my sister was missing, and I had no clue where. She did not contact us telepathically and I could not find her by sensing her, even stretching my abilities to the limits. The few times I would get any rest I simply lay there until I would pound my pillow in frustration as tears streamed down my face. One never becomes immune to terror.

After three weeks of this torment, I had finally made it outside again, and had gone out into the gardens to try and bring some peace to my tortured mind. I suddenly heard a faint rustling sound. I turned, on guard--and much to my astonishment, I saw Sharie stumbling through the foliage towards me!

She looked like she had been through hell. Her clothes were torn in places, but they were not the clothes she had disappeared in. They were Dryseran in origon. She was covered in scratches and bruises, as if she had been severely beaten. To my horror, it even looked like she had a healing stab mark in her side. Her long hair was in braids coiled on top of her head, but even that was in disarray. But it was the look in her eyes that haunted me the most--pain, anger, hurt, and rage. Not at me, but to whomever had done this to her. She had nearly been broken, her spirit crushed. Over it all was a sort of glazed glassiness.

Maybe it was that look that unlocked my legs, for I suddenly ran forward and grabbed her up, crying her name as I hugged her tightly. She barely responded, limp as a rag doll. I was crying as I turned around and raced with her into the house, where my mother gasped loudly and reached to take her daughter from my arms.

Sharie was like a shell of whom she had formerly been. She barely spoke of what she had been through, except to mutter Dark Dresden's name....why do I dare sully the pages of this journal with his name? A lot of it was buried deep in her mind in the form of traumatic amnesia after she escaped, but she still remembered more than a third of her time there, she told me years later.

I now know she told my mother a few things more than she told me at the time....it had caused my mother to deduce that my sister was in grave danger of being killed, though she had managed to escape that monster. He had beaten and physically abused her repeatedly, and forced her to be his slave, that I could tell from just looking at her. Barely a week after my sister returned, nearly broken, Sharie dissappeard again. Little did I know my own mother was responsible.

I had been on a space station at the time, in orbit trying to evade the Dryserans yet again. I did not know my own mother had snuck aboard after me with my sister unwillingly in tow, and sent her out into that dreadful void....she herself had not known Sharie's destination. Minutes later, I barely escaped the place before sabatoge blew it to bits.

What was worse, even as I fell into a blacker despair over what had happened yet again, my own mother disappeared shortly therafter. Dark Dresden, in a fit of rage over trying to find Sharie's wherabouts, kidnapped my own mother this time....but since my mother did not know where she was, he threw her into a Dryseran prison. Nearly twelve years she lingered there, until I much later managed to break her out....

Gods, look at my last few paragraphs, jumbled together as I try to spill out my wild emotions. Sharie started to read over my shoulder again, and her looks are nothing less of astonishment. I expect she did not know how bad it was from my side of things...did you, Lalinka?

"No, not when I wasn't there to face it with you," she whispered. Oh, Lalinka.

*a few minutes later* Now, I was truly alone. The universe had stripped away everyone that I cared about, and Uncle Tristain left again soon after. He was so filled with grief he could not stand it. Once again I became numb, distant. But there was a change in me even I detected. My heart....it did not shut down again like it had after I reawakened. Somehow I found the strength to go on. Maybe it was because inwardly, I was searching for someone to love. I was no longer avoiding it, I needed it, needed someone I could hold onto....and I could not find it.

As the years passed, little did I know that my sister was alive, and since she had never known I was the Gold Ranger, she did not know I had lived as well. She had been just weeks short of her sixth birthday when she disappeared for the last time.

Upon reflection, I recall now that once or twice, I heard from distant worlds how they had been saved by a 'stranger in violet' but I certainly did not connect it with anyone I knew. I continued my work as the Gold Ranger, finding in it a solace...the solace of immersing myself in duty.

I remember hearing, dimly, five years before, Rita Repulsa had escaped from her lunar prison and was attacking the tiny world called Earth. I remebered how Zordon had said he had a plan should Earth ever be attacked by such a witch as Rita, and now they had a planetary defense team of their own rangers.

The only thing was, over the years, I heard they went through powers like I would go through clothes. Hand morphers. Thunder powers. Ninja powers. The Aquitian Rangers I had heard about helping them....and at last, Zeo powers.

Zeo Powers? I had heard that Zordon maybe had a crystal or two hidden someplace, but I never figured he would use it for rangering purposes. I began to pay closer attention, and discovered how they were being battered by King Mondo and his goons. And the situation continued to worsen, I decided I had to help them.

But how? Technically, they were still a sheltered people, and there are other factors I cannot list here. I would have to keep who I was a secret...at least at first. And there was their old repuation as being a projectedly evil race....but if somebody like Zordon could find trust in them, they had to not be *all* bad. Besides, the Zeo Powers that the ranger team from that planet had could only be used by those pure of heart. I decided to try.

I guess I shocked them, for my help was unexpected. They were suspicious of me at first, I probably gave them reason to be. I could not show my face....yet...but I tried to subtly reassure them I meant no harm to them. Tommy told me recently that speculation had been rampant, from his twin to total strangers to Billy. They did not expect an alien leader.

At first, what I did mostly was show up, help defeat the bad guys, and leave as soon as I was no longer needed. But a few times, I was forced to spend hours at their side when we were trapped. Then, since circumstances forced me to stay silent on matters, I stood in a corner...but I could not help but listen as I learned that they were not just automatic fighters, like I felt I was in those days....they were kids, in their teens, young for a human's brief lifespan. They had families they loved, and were trying to protect. They were indeed good. And they had hearts. They weren't monsters at all.

I learned more about them by just their gossipy chatter than fighting at their side, though I tried to feign indifference. I had to stay neutral, right? But what do you do when they talk about their lifestyles, of little things the likes of which I had given up long ago? I also discovered they had hidden pains, old hurts, and their backstories were not unblemished.

This journal was not meant to be a gossip column, but listening to them, something inside me changed, but I did not understand why then. Tommy had been adopted, I learned, and had recently discovered he had a twin brother. They had been seperated as infants--something a Triforian never does with orphans. Siblings are *always* kept together, if at all possible--it is tradition with the force of law. He also had been evil once due to an evil spell Rita cast upon him. So he was a good one for guilt also. I was also faintly amused to learn he had a terrible memory. Triforians all have photographic memories. We don't usually forget anything. I think now that is a bad thing at times.

Kat seemed to be a pretty girl with sky-colored eyes nearly the color Nikita's had been. It made me feel more than a pang or two, I'll admit. She was the athletic sort, and also was fond of dancing. And she had the oddest way of speaking Standard I ever heard...not to mention her accent. She and Tommy....were developing a relationship, I could tell, even if they did not know it fully themselves yet. I think Tommy was still recovering from the blow of another girl who dumped him...later I learned had been a former ranger herself.

It seemed Kat too, had been evil at one point when they first met her. But she was pure-hearted and strong enough to overcome the spell on her own. That says a lot in favor of a human. She has a heart as big as Triforia, and it shows.

Rocky.....at first, the only thought I could think of to describe him was goofy. But although he was a little impulsive, he usually managed to keep his head clear and was fiercely loyal to the rest of the team and an excellent fighter, a karate expert. And, I almost had to stifle a laugh when I overheard comments about his huge appetite. It seems he could out- eat the rest of them easy. Although with all the fighting he had to do and the "Dojo"--I think that is a word for a place where they train potential martial artists from their planet-- he helped run, I can understand how he managed to stay in shape.

I also learned he had a rather large family....two brothers and three sisters. Apparently he was a good babysitter as well....I envied him. Badly. He had grown up taking for granted what I could never have for long.

Tanya was vocal when she had to be, but she was quiet. I almost wished I did not overhear the sad tale of her past, because she had lost both parents at a young age and still missed them terribly, as well as being an only child. Since then that situation with her parents has been rectified, but then I sympathized with her, though she did not know it.

Her favorite acitvity, like mine, was music. I heard her sing--although they don't know this--and I really enjoyed her voice. I had been alone so long, I had almost forgotten what it was like to work alongside someone else. But her song, "We're Going to Stick Together" made me pause for the first time in a long time and really think about it all. How did it go?

We're going to stick together,
For now and forever,
Through bright or stormy weather,
We're going to stick together....

She also liked sports--the human game of baseball seemed to be a passion-- and she also liked the Green Ranger, Adam. In fact, they were more than just friends, it was plain to see that right off.

Adam was the shy, quiet member of the group. Also a bit on the smaller side compared to the other boys. It might have been an issue with his fierce fighting techniques that seemed out of place with his gentle nature. But his eyes reflected a big heart, and a keen intelligence. He had hands that could manipulate anything, and got us all out of more than one jam because of his ability to hotwire zords or build anything he could get his hands on.

He did not talk about his home life much to the other rangers, so I thought he was maybe an only child living with typical parents. Then I heard him one day, right after an adventure, saying he had to go pick up his sister from school.

"Isn't she riding the bus?" Tommy replied.

"Not today. She is getting out early today, and I offered to pick her up. So she won't be waiting for the bus. And Mom and Dad won't let her walk the distance from school to home by herself, you know."

"Of course not," Tommy grinned as I saw Adam demorph and race off, even before I could leave quietly. "She's only six!"

Little did I know at that point that Adam's sister was going to bring on a sharp reminder and make me see things a way I had not seen them in a long time.

For a couple of days later, Adam had taken his sister out into the desert to collect samples or something like that. Anna was her name, and they were just minding their own business when they were attacked by cogs.

Because of interference, only Tommy, Kat, and myself could respond to their problem. I felt my heart flop in my chest when I noticed that the cogs seemed bent on snatching up Anna and taking her away.

I yelled at Adam to go help his sister, no matter what. It struck me hard that I was watching history repeat itself before my very eyes, and I could not stand it. And I could not blame poor Adam one bit when he did not manage to get to Anna in time before the cogs snatched her up and vanished with her cries on the wind.

Never had I seen Adam so angry, so hurt, and so determined to find someone who was so obviously important to him. It spoke volumes to me about a human's family love and loyalty--practically no different from a Triforian's.

I made a silent vow to work just as hard to find little Anna, and I slaved alongside them to find out where Gasket and Archarina had taken Adam's sister. I had seen history repeat itself before my very eyes, and I was determined not to let it happen, or end the way I had had it end in my life. Adam deserved much better than that, they all did. Adam also slaved to search, but it was plain to see he was growing more despondent.

Two days later the situation rectified itself. Anna, and what she had managed to do to her kidnappers, astonished me to the extreme and banished any lingering doubts I might have had as to the human race.

I could see tears in Gasket's and Archarina's eyes as they let the child go. She had done something I thought no one could do with the likes of those two....she had reached them, touched their hearts with her own love and innocence. Instead of turning her into an evil pawn, a small child from a backwards world had managed to show them what love truly was. And since they could not bear to see her unhappy, they let her go. And she made sure they knew she bore no ill will to them....even giving Archarina her prized doll to remember her by.

And I could see it in Anna's dark eyes that she knew what she had done, even as she ran eagerly into her brother's welcoming arms. It completed my faith in humanity even as tears filled my eyes to see such a happy ending for all involved.

Working alongside these Rangers from Earth, I did something I had not originally set out to do---somehow, they gained my friendship, and I theirs. They soon stopped pressing to know who I was, and subtly tried to include me in all team decisions. Tommy even--when he thought I was no longer in earshot--said he considered me a part of their team, and the rest of them agreed with him. I went back to the Pyramidas on a cloud, suddenly feeling better than I had in a long time.

Then the Barox came after me again.

They did not know when to quit. They had been my adversaries for years. Forever attempting to steal my powers for their own evil uses. And I was angry when they attacked earth soley to get to me.

I was injured in the fight, but still managed to drive them off at that point. The rangers rescued me, and hauled me off to the command center while I was unconscious. I did not know why Alpha five did not detect I was Triforian, or who I could possibly be. But I made the mistake of showing that I recognized *them*, so they knew it was somebody whom they had met before.

That was not how I had planned things to go out. I did want to become more familiar to these rangers from Earth, but it was still too dangerous. Even when Tommy had introduced himself, I almost replied...then turned. I could not place them in danger yet, not while the Barox, among others, were still such a threat.

Some days later, that situation was taken care of for me, when the Barox attacked Earth again, and I lured them away from the planet.

They inflicted more damage on the Pyramidas than they had ever before done, and I crashed-landed into Aquitar's oceans.

A few minutes after landing in the ocean waters, I became less worried about the water filling the bays of the Pyramidas. In fact, I almost forgot about it all together as a sudden pain clutched at my middle, and suddenly, my body was on fire. I could feel the control of my powers slipping, and sudden instinct, the kind that must be bred into every Triforian, told me why.

I was splintering. For some reason, my Unity was being shattered. And once it was shattered, I could no longer hold the Gold Ranger powers, and they would be lost.

It hurt even to move as my body fought agains this change, and another part of my body told me that this was the only way I would stay alive for more than a few minutes. I finally understood that splintering in such circumstances was a body's last-ditch effort to prolong life, if our genetic makeup proved to be incompatible with our surroundings. In this case, it seemed, I was not.

Dimly, I was aware of splashing, and hands pulling me out of the Pyramidas cockpit. A voice distantly reassured me that it was okay, he was a ranger of this planet and had come to rescue me. I let him pull me to his ship, and I guess he sped off toward the Ranger Dome of Aquitar.

He led me inside, even though my body protested the movement. I heard a woman's odd-sounding voice saying, "What has happened?"

Then I felt the Golden Power split completely, and I demorphed, and a wave of dizziness came over me. I sank to my knees.

"The power....I'm losing control..." I gasped as the woman supported me. "Zordon, I need his help..." Then, I look into her eyes.

Somebody might as well have kicked me in the stomach, for all I felt a spearing sensation shoot through me....and it wasn't pain. The sensation went straight through to my heart and gripped it tight in a way I'd not felt for almost two and a half melennia.

She only removed her gaze from mine long enough to look at Cestro and bark, "We must make contact with Zordon....hurry!"

Then her gaze returned to mine, and suddenly, I felt no pain. She was holding and supporting me, but her gaze did not waver from mine as her eyes speared into my soul. I got the peculiar sensation that I was falling, down, down, down...when I was already keeling...a type of sensation I had only felt a few times before. Her eyes were dark, not blue like Nikita's had been, but they showed the same intense gaze that had first drawn me to my first love. These eyes made me feel something.....something within me I had thought foever dead, because Nikita had taken it with her to her grave. I was suddenly feeling it again. The feeling was so bittersweet I could not say anything else. I could only stare.

I knew that I had finally found....something significant in my life after so long without it, but I had no time to mull it over because time was slipping by. I was in danger here. I could feel it down to my molecules. She knew this too and her relucance to let me go secretly pleased me when she pulled me up and led me to a stasis chamber. It would keep me from splintering until I could be teleported to Earth. But just before the field caught me, I felt as if I was leaving something important, a significant part of me, behind on this world where I could never safely step foot on. Life seemed cruel.

I knew dimly that the Rangers of Earth had been told my identity. Since I had been about to tell them soon anyway, what did it matter? The next thing I knew for certain was crashing into yet another ocean....Earth's salty oceans. They had had trouble, it seemed, and were racing through the water to find me. I could not get free, and the pain seared my lungs this time as I thought I would surely drown.

I suddenly felt strong hands grab me and shake me free of the trapped stasis chamber. Those same hands hefted me upwards, and suddenly, I was blinded by Earth's sun and I could breathe again, Tommy gasping from behind me where he had pulled me to the surface.

They had all been in the water, afraid I had died. Even a few weeks before, I would not have much cared either way, but they had made me understand that I mattered to them. For that, I was grateful.

"Thank you," I gasped to them, and started to walk away. I could no longer retain control of my unity. "Rangers of Earth, I am in your debt."

And I was, in many more ways than them simply saving my life.

I could sense that what I did next shocked them. I had never understood how the splintering process worked, but it seemed the knowledge was gentically implanted in every Triforian, for I suddenly understood what had to be done, as I let go of the last threads of my unity and felt the three levels of my soul assume their own personalities.

Oh, man, as Tommy would say, when I had completed the process. How does one describe the senation that I was looking through six eyes instead of two, and could think in more directions than I could previously, when there was suddenly three different sides of me...staring at myself and knowing I was not looking into a mirror? I was one person, one soul, and yet I was staring at three of me, each of which was technically a third of my one soul. All three parts of me had, basically, become individuals, and yet I was still Trey. We were still one, like we had been....only circumstances had made each of us more clear to each other.

I have to smile. Sharie just raised her eyebrow at me. Confused, Lalinka?

She said yes, and I have to tell her that that is as clear as I can render it, and it still sounds confusing. I gave new meaning to the phrase "being in three places at once."

Of course, I had to face their questions, and I explained to them who I was, and why there was suddenly three and why I could no longer hold onto my powers. There was no time to call in somebody like Troy and have him take my place. I had to find somebody here to take my powers, and soon. I could feel them slipping further, and weakening. They could only come back, and full strength, if somebody took them as quickly as possible.

Then there was the ensuing Quadrifighter battle, and the struggle to find a ranger to temporarily take my place. I could not pass them onto Billy, his body flatly rejected the powers due to negative protons--am I the only one who thinks that it was something else? Negative protons does not sound right--. Then Tommy said he knew somebody else....

It turned out to be Jason Scott, a former ranger. He had returned from a place called Switzerland, and peace talks--diplomacy, I reflected--and would jump at the chance to become a ranger again. I took one look into his eyes and instinctively knew I had found an excellent candidate. He would be perfect for the powers.

There was the small risk of side effects I had heard about, but I was not sure if they would be true or not, whether it would poison a non-Triforian to take the powers. And there was no time to lose. Jason must have known about risks, he had been a ranger, and rangers knew that their lives could have ended any time. His body seemed to accept the powers, and as, with the last of my hold on the powers, I gave them to him, our minds touched, and I knew he would guard the powers with his life.

I also gave them the Super Zeo Gems, certain by now that these humans were indeed the rightful owners. They had found their way into my care a melennia ago, and now I was bringing them home. It was also my subtle way of thanking them for re-showing me the true power of teamwork and friendship.

I returned to Triforia, knowing that mostly likely, if I was to ever rejoin, it would be on my homeworld. It does not always work, as I have said. Most rejoin after a time and treatment, but our techniques are artificial. I might I have said before that our primordial ancestors, before we became humanoid, probably knew how to instinctively rejoin. But we had long since lost the ability to recall these racial memories, since it is extremely rare that one does splinter. So our artificial techniques are not always helpful.

It turned out to be that I was one of the few with stubborn DNA. In other words, it did not work. I was surprised to hear from an offer by Billy to help me, for what could a person from a technilogically sheltered world know about us? But it seems his genius did know quite a bit, and he almost succeeded at times.

It was also then that I finally got to know the former Blue Ranger. I had known very little about Billy, and I learned then that his mother died with his birth and that he was an only child. Only his uncle Mitchell, in some place called "Mariner Bay", had known until recently that he had ever been a Ranger. His father only knew by that time because he had gone to Aquitar. He had been, and still was, the main source of brains behind the Power Rangers team, and it seemed that word of his intelligence had spread far and wide across sections of the universe. His mind was being counted as among the greatest. He had also spent time on Aquitar, and he confided in me that he had fallen in love with one of the girls there....a girl named Cestria.

How I wished I could tell him about the fact I'd had a similar experience. I was in contact with Aquitar for a time because we had to drag the Pyramidas out of it's ocean depths and get the water out of it's flooded bays. I spoke to Delphine a few times....or rather, I had the unfortunate fate of having Trey of Heart speak to her. Bad mistake, I reflected at the time. He would be the one to fall for her the most, and of course the rest of me was the same way. We were still one mind, just different facets of it. And I had no idea if Delphine had felt the same way...about anything.

Of course I despaired silently. What life could we have had, even if she felt the same way? I could not survive on Aquitar, and her people were more delicate out of their own water-world environment. Besides, I was Lord of Triforia and she was the leader of the Aquitian Rangers It would have been hard.

Four weeks passed in this manner, and suddenly I got the news: The Gold Ranger powers were killing Jason.

****

It is the following night. I stayed up past midnight again writing all that I did, and Sharie was by me every moment, for this was part of me she had never before heard fully. She had heard the basic outlines--and guessed my feelings about Delphine from what I said and she had been told-- but she had never before heard it all. She was lost in space. I still don't know what she did there--where *were* you for eight long months, Lalinka?

Of course she shakes her head. She will not tell me. Not till she is ready, her eyes say.

As I left off the other night, I had gotten word that the powers were killing Jason. Killing him? I had not thought it could be that extreme...but it was true. They were draining upon him, tearing his lifeforce from his body as he rejected the powers, and he was growing continually weaker. I had to take the powers back, and immediately....

....but how? I was still splintered, Trey of Courage, Wisdom, and Heart. I could not hold the powers myself. Then Zordon suggested a Unity Beam bounced off Triforia, Aquitar, and Earth. Theoretically, it would not only rejoin my body as one, it would restore my powers and free Jason from any more body damage.

I came to Earth at once, and I was shocked when I saw Jason. Whiter than ice and marble, lying there unconscious. They could barely rouse him enough to drag him to his feet, and he had to be supported for the trip into the desert, for he could not quite walk unaided, nor could he call upon the powers easily. It took great effort.

And then, of course, just to make things even more fun for us, we had to be attacked by cogs and other goons.

It still seems like a miracle that Jason and I got into position just as the energy beam struck Earth. A moment later, or if we had been standing just to the left or right of where we had been....and we would have been no more. Toast, as Tommy would have put it.

All of a sudden, though, I felt myself realign into one being, and the Power flood me once more. It had worked. I was....myself again! I was seeing through one pair of eyes, and my thoughts were no longer so darned confused. I now know why they say being splintered is so traumatic.

Jason was still too weak to fight, he had to duck out of harm's way while I called upon the Power of Triforia to make all of us rangers grow....from the way they put it, they had never been Zord size before. Weird that they would not have had that experience under their belts by then....although I don't myself enjoy being that big. I stayed around for another week, until the Machine Empire was completely defeated for all time. I enjoyed myself more than I had in years, for these people were truly worthy to be called friends. And there was no longer any need to hide myself from them...so I could interact freely. They even talked me into a couple of group photographs with them....and told me that they would always consider me a part of them. I felt better than I had in years, for they had taught me an important lesson.

Though the time came when they no longer needed me, and I had to return to Triforia. Billy had departed for Aquitar, and I knew we had to get on with our lives. But for the next six months, I walked around with a new hole in my heart--the one that had withstood so much--because even though I tried my best to bury it--to forget it, I was suffering love for someone who could never be mine. Something that I had been searching for for so long, and after I found it, it seemed impossible to hold on to.

I still heard bits and pieces of news from Earth, right after I had left, they had switched powers and were being attacked by a person called Divatox, and Rocky had departed because of a severe injury and because after he recovered, he no longer had time to fit rangering into his life. And the new ranger was a little boy named Justin....he was barely thirteen! They were called the Turbo Rangers.

And then the rest of the team I had come to know retired from rangering. Zordon had decided that they had risked their lives long enough....they were now fully adults, eighteen years of age--only eighteen and adults, I thought--and it was time a new generation of rangers took to the fore. Cassie Chan, Carlos Perez, TJ Ackerson, and Ashley Hammond became the new Turbo Rangers.

All of this in the space of two months after I left. They were Turbo Rangers for two months after that....until the Power Chamber was destroyed by Divatox's minions. There was the chase into space I heard about as Zordon was taken prisoner by Dark Spectre....and Justin remained behind.

The boy who took Justin's place was also human....but he came from a disaster-destined colony called KO-35. His name was Andros, but that was all I knew about him. Little did I know that this boy was much more like me than I could ever imagine....or want to.

Then, a couple of months ago, I heard about the newest, deadliest minions Dark Spectre was sending Earth's newest foe, Astronema. I heard about them first, and I knew I had to warn the rangers. It was under these circumstances that I was introduced to the new Earth team.

I subtly studied them when we met in the park that day--after I had been scared witless by one of their 'dogs'.

Ha, ha, go ahead and laugh, Lakinka. That yellow German Shepard of Cassie's seemed to be like that Imax we have on Triforia. They look almost exactly alike, but more than one Triforian explorer has met death and become dinner at their jaws.

Cassie seemed to me to be the cheerful type, but she was serious. Again, her main passion was music. And she was emotionally tied to one called the Phantom Ranger--I had barely heard about him, but absolutely *nobody* knew, or still knows, who he is. Well, I think Cassie does, but that is hardly my business.

Andros...they had said something about him being distant and mostly cold, but he was already beginning to change, due to the influence of the yellow ranger, Ashley. I had no idea at that point, until the adventure was nearly over, how much alike we really were.

Ashley was bright, cheery. A sunny personality, for the most part....but her eyes still were sad at times, reflective at others. I had no idea at the time how much she had herself lost, but I was soon to find out.

Carlos was serious, but had a sense of humor nonetheless. His dark eyes seemed to pierce me to my core, as if he could see right through me....I wondered, offhand, just how much he could see, for I could tell my eyes betrayed me more than once.

Actually, TJ did that also. He seemed to be the most familiar with who I was, thanks to Tommy's storytelling talent. But at times, I caught him giving me odd glances, as if he knew something about me I did not want anybody to know about. He never said a word, but I had the distinct feeling....

That was the adventure where poor Andros and Ashley met a near deadly fate at the hands of the Emotional Wrangler. This device took an individual's most horrible emotions and memories that they had buried, and brought them to the fore. It was a devastating form of emotional torture that had left more than one poor soul permanently insane...it was a miracle that both managed to come out of it with their sanity intact. They are still emotionally bruised from the experience, but they hide it well, and are recovering.

I felt sorry for them, and I understood what they were going through. If I had been caught by that device, I doubt if I would have made it. I was shocked to learn Ashley had lost a brother the year before....she is part of a set of triplets--natural-born triplets!--and one of her twin brothers was killed in an accident. She had wanted to die then and she almost wanted to again after what the device did to her.

Andros....his secret was even more shocking. He had a sister, about ten months younger than him....and she had been kidnapped as a child, like my sister had been. He has not seen her since, and it was part of the reason he was so sour.

I heard him speak flatly of it, of how they had been playing with a telekenesis ball--the ball had wandered off a ways and he had gone after it. Then he heard Karone scream his name---then nothing. He still blames himself for not watching her more closely--but what could a seven-year-old boy have done? I certainly could have done much more, I am a 2500-year- old, not seven! I saw that recording he carries obsessively in that locket around his neck. It is horrifyingly painful even to *me*, and I do not see what he could have done against somebody like Darkonda.

I know you say I should not blame myself, Lalinka, but I will never forgive myself for letting you go that horrible day, never! I don't care if it happened so suddenly, it did happen due to my negligence in a world at war!

My handwriting is getting shaky again, but I cannot help it. Still, I will go on. Sharie is poised to argue, and I don't feel like fighting with her.

I felt so badly for Andros when I heard this shocking news, I could not speak. I urged him never, ever to give up looking. It was not fair he had to, and still has to, go through what I went through. Life is not fair, I know. And I know now that the date of Karone's kidnapping is within a week of Sharie's kindapping. Seemed pretty strange to me, it still does.

I expect that by the way I reacted, I got some strange looks from them, but thank goodness they did not press. I had no idea that any of my human friends knew the dreadful secret I was keeping from them--that my own sister was long gone, and I presumed her likely to be gone forever.

Little did I know that in two weeks, my wildest wish and most desperate dream would come true.

Right after I had left the Space Rangers after my first adventure with them, I caught that dreadful thiroldian flu. It does not kill or anything like that, but it makes the victim miserable as can be. I was just recovering when news reached me of the possiblity of tracking Zordon. Since I knew that humans were immune to the disease, I decided to consult them on helping me. I could not do it alone.

By then, they had already met Sharie, and she had told them a very abridged version of who she really was. It did not mention my name or the fact her brother was the Lord of Triforia. Just bare essentials.

Sharie just said it was all she thought they needed to know at the time.

I know now that Carlos had a reputation at being a good deducer of mysteries. He put two and two together, and the fact Sharie and I resembled each other greatly and my mealoncholy...and he paid a visit to Tommy. It seemed my mother had written a journal heself of how she had sent my sister away and why...she had tried to destroy it, but it turned into a "junk" file and attached itself to one of the files Billy had downloaded before he left Triforia. Tommy found the file when he was going through the information, and had translated and read it. And until Carlos and TJ had inquired, he had not told a soul that he knew the reason behind my misery.

They were worried that I would think them the worst of snoops for what they had done...they needn't have worried. They plotted to bring Sharie and I together, and I now know they had chosen Ashley to break the news to me while we were tracking Zordon.

I still had been feeling ill, so I reluctantly had let her come with me to give me a hand. We scanned forever, and battle quantrons, and simply talked, before she managed to get to the subject she had in mind.

It did not strike me what the heck she was talking about until the conversation somehow turned to her brother, and she said that she was coping with the pain. Then she said something along the lines of, "You and I both know all too well how it feels."

That brought me up short, and surprise and pain flashed through me before I could stop it. I turned to face her. Her eyes pierced mine, and I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. I could not deny it, it was simply too obvious in her eyes, no matter how I desperately wanted to deny it. "You...know, don't you, Ashley?" I had to ask. My heart was pounding in my ears before she confirmed my fears.

She knew, all right. The whole sordid story. I could not fathom *how*, since I never spoke about Sharie, but she knew....and she explained why.

Unbelievable anger flashed through me when she told me that my mother was responsible. For a minute, I was so angry at my own mother, I could not see straight, and I desperately wanted to go back in time and rectify things.

But I could not be angry long. How can you feel such rage....when you love them so much? And Ashely implored me, explained why....and I did not doubt her. My trust in her and her group was so total I could not believe they would lie to me.

But Ashley was not done with her tale. My heart fell to my toes when she quietly informed me that she not only knew the story, she knew my sister personally. Sharie was very much alive and had been living on Earth, more or less, the whole time! What's more, she had incredible powers at her beck and call....the Zeo Violet Ranger Powers.

Although I am still somewhat embarrassed by what I did next, I could not help it. Something inside of me snapped. It was all too much, and in front of Ashley, tears started to run down my face...and I could not stop them. I lacked even the strength to try. It just seemed like everything hit me at once. Thank goodness Ashley did not think the least of comforting me...even when I would have retreated. She stayed by me while I cried for the first time in years.

Sharie has told me since then it was likewise for her and Carlos while they were trapped in that other dimension, when he broke the news to her.

(A few minutes later) Sorry. My eyes had blurred so badly I could no longer see what I was trying to write. Sharie had turned pale and her lips were trembling--I still cannot believe she has been reading over my shoulder all this time--so I had to lay my writing aside for a few minutes until we regained our senses.

Although I fear I will have good reason to do it again shortly. The first glimpse I had had of my sister in nearly twelve years was when she and Carlos, along with Ashley, had come out of the dimension, and came to rescue the rest of us, who had been trapped by monsters.

I knew that she knew when she called my name, and saved me from being crushed by one of the monsters. She knew I was there, and that I had come for her.

And when the monsters were gone, the other rangers left us alone as we demorphed. I could not stop staring. Gone was the tiny child I recalled, who looked like a gentle breeze would blow her away.

In front of me stood a woman. She was still painfully small--ow! Don't poke me, Lalinka, I am just writing what I saw!--but gone was the girl's body. She had turned into a beautiful woman, slender, and her body had retained a delicate look, but not the porcelain kind. Maybe it was because she had devloped a wily reslience to her limbs, an assurance to her I had never before seen.

It was like seeing my mother exactly--except she was so small and her eyes were so haunted. But they were the eyes I otherwise remembered, and the hair. It was definetly her.

We stood apart, and I seemed to stare into her eyes forever before we hesistantly moved closer together. I had to touch her, to make sure she was real. She was. The touch of her transcended time, and for a moment, it was as if the past several years of seperation had never existed.

Time seemed to stand still as she suddenly lunged at me, and I was holding her for the first time in....oh, it seems so long ago now! We both cried again, and my emotions were raging completely out of control for a time. She took me by the hand and dragged me to her place, and we sat up most of the night...trying to bridge the gap of so many years, trying to make up in one night what we had missed during her whole childhood.

Of course, the next week with her was wonderful, and I felt happier than I had in a long time. Triforia welcomed Sharie back easily and happily, and a simple ceremony reinstated her as future Lady of Triforia. Often I was struck by two different, conflicting emotions about how much she had changed--and how much she was still my Lalinka.

For example, she had picked up many mannerisms and habits she had never had before, like swinging her legs or tapping her fingernails against her teeth if she was deep in thought or otherwise unoccupied. She made a face when she told me that these were mannerisms her adoptive father had had, she sort of picked them up without knowing it.

And her language usage, even now, is different. She no longer speaks precise Standard, using much more slang and contractions that I ever did. What is worse, Lalinka, I am picking them up from you, you know....

And of course, she is more adapted now to a life on an alien world than she would be on Triforia. Of course she recalls and understands our customs, except what had been hidden from her to be revealed after she was six. She knows now, but that does not make much difference.

A thought strikes me. I think you have said this in the past, Sharie, but now I want the full truth. Do you consider Earth more your home than you do Triforia?

Oops. Wrong question. She nods, but her eyes are hurt. I'm sorry, Lalinka. I did not mean it *quite* like that....tuial'ko (forgive me)?

Thank goodness she does.

Ah, now I am reaching a subject I still have meant to discuss with you, sister dear. And that is your matchmaking skills.....as in your little prank at Billy's wedding?

"It worked, didn't it?" she askes. "It got you and Delphine together, right?"

I heave a sigh. She is right about that. Sharie and I had been invited to Billy and Cestria's wedding. It was by then safe to go since Sharie had rediscovered how our mother had solved the problem of our splintering, and now everyone on Triforia no longer has to fear it ever happening again. So it would be safe for us to go to Aquitar.

I felt my heart clench in my throat when I saw Delphine again for the first time in many months. gods, she is a lovely woman from the inside out, and her eyes practically glow. At that moment, looking at her right after the wedding, I knew that maybe I could indeed trust myself to love again. Perhaps I could put my old fears behind me at last.

But what was so *un*typical of me was the fact I was suddenly tongue-tied and closed-mouthed. I could not bring myself to even talk to Delphine in the least, much less get close.

Little did I know that my dear little sister--drat her--had quickly formulated a good friendship with the bride and groom of the occassion, and she, Billy, and Cestria conspired to pull off a little ruse. The other two had not been blind to what was going on, either, and they were happy to help.

Cestria agreed to toss her holy matrimonial flower directly at Delphine, while Sharie got Billy to agree to do the same with his, to have him fling his at me. This is the ceremony that means the same thing on Earth, Aquitar, and Triforia. The catchers of the bouquet are the next ones supposedly destined for a wedding, or at least to fall in love.

And it seemed that they had pretty sharp aims, also. Neither Delphine nor I even reached for the flowers, but they found their target anyways. Everyone around me was giggling and I turned very, very red. It was not until later that I understood my sister's mischevious grin.

And when the dances started--of course my dear sister coerced me to ask Delphine to dance, or--she threatened--she would go to Delphine and tell her that I wanted her to dance with me, but was too shy to ask. Oh, boy, did I glare at her then....

I was surprised when Delphine accepted my request to dance so easily, and I suppose, Lalinka, that I am grateful to you for your prodding. I am blushing as I admit that for the rest of the evening, I forgot completely about my surroundings. All I knew was that I was holding the woman I was trusting myself to love in my arms, and I did not want to ever let her go.

And of course the evening wore on, and I had to. I followed, no-- "escorted" her to her quarters, and she invited me inside. We spoke for awhile, and then I knew I had to leave before...well, I did something I might regret.

Too late.

Our eyes met, and suddenly, I understood completely that she felt as much for me as I did for her....and I guess my senses got out of control. Before either of us could think....I was kissing her and leaning into it with everything I had. I could feel her....*sense* her....and I swear that at that point, I had never been driven so wild.

And sister dear over there has to giggle. Lalinka, I know you and Carlos are lovers, and here you are giggling like a schoolgirl.

She quiets, and shoots me a Look. "I was laughing about the humor of the whole situation," she says smugly. "Not at the description of your passion- -nice passage, by the way."

I roll my eyes and I am deciding to ignore her for a few minutes as she grins a bit mockingly at me. If I were her age, I would stick my tongue out at her--but that type of behaivor wears off by age twenty, when most Triforian kids start to think about lives as adults--and pretty much become adults by age twenty-five.

Here, that happens at age eighteen. Wow.

Okay, I am completely off the point again. Where was I--oh, yeah. It was the hardest think I had ever done--at least, of that type of thing--to let go of Delphine. But just because I felt as if I had known her all my life did not mean that I knew who she *really* was. Although she told me later she would not have stopped me even then....

We made plans to meet for the next few days, since Sharie and I planned to have a little vacation on Aquitar. Carlos somehow managed to come by, also, and I guess it was a little like a long-forgotten paradise.

I loved getting to know Delphine, and who she truly is. Centrally, she is calm, and it shows through to the outside. However, she has a fierce temper that rarely shows. Only one time on Earth did she give in to her anger--when she saw a couple of kids fishing. Fishing! Ugh!--Did I mention that for the most part, Triforians are vegetarians? So I cannot blame her--but the little episode ended kind of comically when she and her ranger team used their telekenetic ability to pull the kids right into the water.

I also learned that Delphine is passionate about her life as a ranger, steadfastly dedicated to her cause, and I truly admire that within her. She also has a wonderful artistic talent, she loves to swim--of course--and also has a passion for dance. She is sharp an analytical, much like Cestro, their team brain, is. Her leadership abilities and fighting skills are excellent, and she is top-notch at her job.

I was pleased when Sharie and Delphine struck up a close friendship right away. When they are together, they can find endless things to talk about. It is one of the few times Sharie's jaws ever really let loose, since she is normally the quiet type.

After Carlos had left again, Aquitar's tranquility was shattered by attacking space pirates nearby, and the team, along with the Astro Rangers, responded to the call.

It was a difficult fight, and just as we beat them, they let loose a flood of Reysyon rays upon some of us. Namely, Sharie, Delphine, and myself. Teleported us to heaven-knew where, and seperated us, at that.

I was terrified Delphine would die. She and I wound up in a hot, dry cave, but in different long, winding tunnels. After a few hours, she was so dehydrated she could no longer walk, and was crushed by an avalanche of rocks. By then, I had been nearby, and I heard her cry out as the rocks tumbled, just missing her.

I had never, ever been so scared in my life. My brain was screaming *Not again! Not again! No!!!* and my reasoning almost snapped as I took off into a run. There was something in the atmosphere of that planet that blocked my telepathy, and I just barely had an empathic sense of either woman, even with my ability pushed to the limits. Delphine's was about to snap, she was so weak.

She barely answered my calls when I made it to her, and I scrambled over the avalanche and found her huddled against the wall, too weak to get back up and in terrible pain.

My heart lurched. It was a scene right out of my nightmares, and I knew I was not going to lose her this time if I could help it. I knew then that I loved her irrevocably, I would accept a relationship with her on any terms. When she suggested I let her be, and save myself, I would not do it. I kissed her hard, trying to tell her how I felt about her. She stopped protesting as I picked her up and somehow managed to scramble over the pile of debris to the nearby cave exit.

Thank gods the river was so close! She was unconscious, nearly gone by the time I reached the river, and unwanted memories, terrible pain, was flashing before my very eyes and searing my soul. Just as bad, Sharie, while I could sense her, was still nowhere to be found.

I did not then nor do I now understand much about the aquitian's rehydrating process. I had to think, and I wonder how I did not completely panic as I forced water down her throat to make her wake up, so she could direct me on what to do next...if it was not too late already.

Thank gods it wasn't. Just in time, I succeeded in awakening her. She finished rehydrating without too much effort.

But that wasn't the worst part of that horrible day. We found Sharie soon after, she had been walking downriver to meet us, apparently. And minutes later, we were attacked.

The creatures that attacked us were not really sentient, but I expect they had a strong sense of territory, and we were intruding on it. We beat off the monster who attacked, but not before Sharie sustained a scratch on her wrist. The creature's claws were poison, and nearly took her life that dreadful night.

The only thing that saved her life was the detox I managed to get down her at the last second. I still don't know how I did it....I hate medical occupations, up to that point, I had only trained myself in emergency medicine, and I don't know how I kept my head when I had never been more terrified for someone I loved....and that day had been filled with terror for the two I love most in the universe. Little did I know that this first real adventure with them would not be, by far, the last.

Just days later, one who had turned Trifoira's peaceful world upside-down set his cold blue eyes this time on a planet I was growing increasingly fond of, Earth. He who had extended his hand of hatred and corruption, of despair and torment, in my direction, and Sharie's, before, this monster would rear his ugly head once again.

I had been attending a diplomatic matter on Triforia when the worst sense of foreboding came to hit my stomach. I did my best to call the meeting short, when Troy ran in and indeed told me that Sharie had called, and she was demanding to see me immediately.

I swear I had never seen her in such a state, not since that horrible day I had found her stumbling through the gardens with her spirit crushed after escaping a monster, remembering only half of what she had been through, the rest buried due to traumatic amnesia. Well, the monster had returned, and upon learning this, it was enough of a horrific shove to Sharie's mind it caused her to recall some of those memories her mind had forced her to forget.

Dark Dresden was preparing to attack Earth.

I swear I had never been so angry, to hear that history, horrifying tales of the past we would have both loved to forget, was charging into the present to torment our souls once more. Sharie was in so much pain, and it was obvious. It was then that she revealed that much of what had happened to her those years ago...her mind had suppressed it. For years, there were periods of time she did not recall, even though there was as much that was as clear as crystal. She had kept it locked inside her mind and heart all this time, hardly breathing a word. And with Dark Dresden's return, it was all coming back to the surface.

And I, too, felt it with a vengence. I had completed my own Zeo Universal Surfer by then, she gave me some quick lessons just before that.....man attacked.

And after the adventure was over, it was even worse. He had threatened her along with Ashley and Cassie, and she had agreed to become his consort to spare the girls his sexual ravaging. Thank gods they managed to escape before he could lay a hand on them!

But after he was killed--by Astronema's own hand, I think--Sharie had shut herself completely off from me. I hated to see her like this, and she would not even touch me. Maybe all we had been through had caused our tempers to flare, because what followed was a hideous fight I will never, ever forgive myself for doing, for I had hurt my own sister in the process.

I cannot recount it, it's too painful. There was a lot of yelling, and I accidentally grabbed her so tightly that she bruised. I sincerely deserved the slap she dealt me, and I figured she would never forgive me....but thank gods she did, when I went after her.

I swear I will never do it again. I am a sincere danger to myself and others when my temper lets loose, and Sharie belives herself the same way. It goes against a Triforian's peaceful nature, and I hate myself for it.

So life went on, and a series of adventures ensued as I found myself spending more and more time on Earth and Aquitar. I was grateful Delphine was by my side when Troy dropped the next big bombshell in my life, the news that my mother was alive and in a Dryseran prison.

Sharie and I immediately started planning a rescue, and we both protested when Carlos and Delphine insisted on joining us. Now, I am glad we did, for I believe we were both grateful for their presence.

Our mother was indeed there, and after a massive rescue effort, we found her. She told us later how afraid she had been, that we would be furious with her for her actions in sending Sharie off without telling me, or her.

But I had understood almost immediately why she would feel the need...and Sharie was alive, wasn't she? We had both forgiven her long ago....and having her in our lives again finally made me feel complete. I had my family back, and I was in love.

There were other adventures....Troy and the Nightstriker Warrior powers, the Hydrohog's return---gods, I almost lost Delphine and Sharie in that one. They both survived...barely. I also became aware of a new fact, too, when I noticed in the middle of the adventure, right after Carlos left Sharie's house at one point, that there was something new about Sharie, some form of innocence in her was now gone....and she quietly confirmed it to me. My little sister was now a woman in every sense.

"*Trey!*" she just shrieked in my ear. I can't help laughing.

"You wrote that after what I did for you and Delphine that same night, setting you up so you could have some private time together? I am perfectly aware of what you did in that hidden area in my gardens!"

Oh, gods, she made me write that last sentence. She wanted it written down officially. Now my face is burning......

Oh, well, back to the program.

And then came a blow I had hoped never to face again...when Sharie disappeared in the middle of a battle, it was certain she had been killed. Dimensional rippers tear a person through the fabric of space with such force they are no more than atoms by the time they arrive at their destination. The monster, an old colleague of Dark Dresden's, had attempted to kill Sharie with one of these...and it had looked like he had succeeded.

Gods, I had not felt so low since Sharie had vanished when she was six...and even then, there had been the faint hope she was alive somewhere. But this....how was it that she lived?

I was so devastated, I stopped eating, or even working, for several days. My mother shut herself into her rooms and did not see anyone. I was overcome by the blackest despair, and I admit it here, I almost considered ending it. I just could not face this again....if it had not been for Sharie's forcing me to promise not to undertake such a stupid stunt.

Luckily she had made Carlos promise the same thing. Poor boy was suffering as badly as me, and I understand why. Oh, great, my hand is trembling again so badly that these words are nearly illegible, but I cannot help it. It was too recent, and I will never forget it, I swear.

Lack of sleeping and of eating much caused me to lose a great deal of weight in a week's period, weight I really could not afford to lose. It was all body fat, and no doubt if it had happened much longer, my muscles would have deteriorated as well. Sharie also tells me that I had also been white and had dreadful shadows beneath my eyes.

Great was my astonishment when word reached me that Sharie was alive, and had returned a week after her presumed "death". When I saw her, she was painfully thin, and had a haunted look....the realm she had been trapped in was one designed to mentally torture a person into insanity, until they broke competely....I don't understand how she hung on as long as she did. It was only because Zordon, who can travel in other dimensions, despite being trapped, discovered she was there and freed her.

I can't go on. Like before, it's too painful. Subject change.

No sooner had we healed from this little adventure, than the Earth Rangers had to get sick.

****

I guess it's been a week and a half since I last wrote in this journal. Quite a bit has happened, and I am still shaking from the furious flare of temper that happened just yesterday.

I am outside. I am writing by the light of one of the few spells I know. Sharie is asleep beside me, I guess the emotional strain of the past several days has just worn her out completely.

It's a long story, from both my point of view and how she told it.

But I might as well start where I left off last time.

As I had said...the Rangers became ill. It seems Astronema....or rather, one of her minions....had accidentally unleashed a virus on Angel Grove, one that made nearly every single person in the city fall desperately ill.

And the other thing of note was, it also infected the whole Dark Fortress.

But the Rangers caught it, also, and lay there for a long time before Sharie and I found them.

We were unaware of this for quite a while because we were eons away, far across the universe tracking down a mystery twenty-eight years in the making.

It seems my mother had a sister we never knew about...not even her. My Grandmatai, Vanessa, had visited an aquitian outpost so distant regular contact was only established once every three years with Aquitar. She had gone there, and had met and married an Aquitian named D'tara. And because of the distance, obviously, Mother and I never heard about it.

Just a few months later, after a difficult pregnancy, Vanessa had a little daughter, Shayla. But something was wrong with my grandmatai, for she remained ill after delivery. Eventually, she was forced to leave her new family and return to Triforia....to die.

Even though, at the time I nor my mother, knew anything about this. She simply came home, announced she was dying, and refused to let a doctor see her...she knew her condition was terminal. No matter how much Mother and I pleaded, she refused to say where she had been for so long, or what she had done.

And I can understand why she was forced to leave her family behind. She could not survive on Aquitar at the time...genetic incompatibility. And D'tara was Aquitian...he would have had a hard time surviving on Triforia constantly.

And little Shayla possibly had both problems.

But when she was dying, Mother had a traveling entertainer stop by to cheer her. Obvioulsy, the crystal he gave her at one point had the ability to fortell the future....and Vanessa saw how it would be, as well as other possible futures, if she revealed her secret. Shayla would have been killed in the Dryseran-Triforian war. And she also saw the future grandchild she would have one day, Sharie. So she addressed her diary to Sharie, and had it locked away until a time she knew Sharie would find it.

I myself cried when I read my Grandmatai's heartfelt love and heartache with her little Aquitian family, and her misery at leaving those she had obviously loved with all her soul. How horrible it must have been, not to only lose your whole family and future like that....and not being able to tell a person about it, keeping it locked up in your heart and taking your secrets to the grave....and dying without them.

We found out another interesting thing--D'tara is a close cousin of Delphine. So when we planned our mission to the Auqitian colony, of course Delphine had to be told. She deserved to know. And she could confirm Shayla's existence.

We indeed managed to find Shayla, and thank goodness. Shayla is twenty- eight, very young, but other than her aquitian features, she looks almost exactly like my mother and sister...although Sharie did moan to me once why it had to be *every* family memeber had to tower over her? For Shayla is as tall as my mother, quite a bit taller than her niece. (And no doubt if Sharie sees this passage she will kill me for letting it be officially written.)

Although to get back to what I was saying, while we were gone, the Rangers almost met their end by the viral downfall. That very night, Sharie shared my apprehension that something was dreadfully wrong back on Earth...but what, we could not fathom. As soon as we came back, we found how desperate the situation was.

DECA had been trying for ages to get ahold of us, and she--relatively speaking--breathlessly gasped out the news. I could tell that, computer or not, she was scared out of her wits, and Alpha could not handle this crisis alone.

Sharie and I agreed to come, despite the very real danger we would face in exposing ourselves to this dreaded virus.

She dragged me to the nearest medical facility, and we inoculated ourselves against every think she could think of to provide at least temporary protection. I don't wonder that this action saved our lives later.

*all* the rangers were more dead than alive when we found them. I was never so grateful, and never as scared, as I was then, that Sharie had been making me take the extra medical knowledge infusions. I might have discovered a talent for medicine, I will never like it nor enjoy it.

For days we fought to keep them alive, and fighting off a pirhanatron attack in the process. I remember Sharie had been shot, but it seemed of no consequence then. She pretended nothing was wrong even as the wound remained and festered.

She also worked long shifts at the hospital, which was crammed with Angel Grove's ill. In the middle of all this mess, Sharie and I scarcely slept more than an hour or two a day, and if DECA had not constantly prodded us about it, we would have forgotten about food as well during those four hellish days when the ranger's lives hung in the balance.

The Rangers began, finally, to get well, and just in time....for Sharie and I to get sick. And I thought thiroldian flu was bad! This virus almost killed us....After only a few hours, I was unconscious and suffering from the worst nightmares imaginable.

And the suffocation. According to Sharie, many times I had severe respritory attacks she barely staved off...until she became to ill to care for me. How long we lay in our room, unconscious, I don't remember, before, I am told, Marek and Marisha Thoene, Sharie's Aunt and Uncle, found us. More days they cared for us, and finally, we were hospitalized when we nearly died.

Sharie did almost die, and I saw it with my own eyes....her lying there, blue-grey-purple, all at once, and fighting for her life, gasping for air she could not get. Marek worked frantically over her for what seemed like....forever before he got her breathing again. I had not been awake long myself, and that scene nearly led to my relapse.

And it was rather lonely. At least Carlos got to be by Sharie's side at times. I could not risk Delphine coming here and getting infected....

Shows what type of mood swings I am currently feeling even now. Envy. I don't know how long I will have to wrestle with this mysterious depression before it goes away.

When the nightmare was finally over, our birthdays were upon us....for Sharie and I share the same birthday. Seems to me my dear little sister ratted to Carlos on how much I liked music...for the rangers bombarded me with music and CD's, Cassie giving me a special electronic keyboard, the right size for a traveling ranger.

Sharie got a bit more variety, but even I started when I saw the ring he gave her. It looks exactly like the design on the locket I gave her on her fifth birthday...I have one as well, but I keep it hidden, I don't wear it like Sharie does. They are supposed to have some magical power I don't understand.

Anyway, the ring went onto her right hand....and it was only today I discovered the reason behind it now residing on her left hand...a promise ring, she told me. Some strange Earth tradition of promising to become engaged....I admit I don't understand.

The final danger of that adventure was the continal festering of the wound on her leg. I did not understand why it was failing to heal...until she morphed during a fight, and nearly went into shock from the power poisoning her.

Seems that one of the quantrons's weapons had a special new power to turn her own powers against her. She temporarily gave them to Shayla, the shock nearly killing her, until we discovered how to rectify the problem. And due to a quantron attack, it almost ended her life.

Just days after that adventure ended, I felt an almost-familiar depression come over me, one I get every year for some mysterious reason that lasts a few weeks, then goes away. I admit I am suffering from it now, and I never have known why. And much to my dismay, I have discovered that Sharie has the same problem as well.

When it first started, I admit...we never really were uncivil to one another, but she started to get on my nerves, and I suppose I avoided her...which I should never have done. Then....maybe this mess would not have happened.

My shame was considerable when I actually felt glad she was gone, when she headed out on a diplomatic mission. She had been annoying me of late, and I have to say it...my relief at having her gone almost outweighted my shame for feeling this against someone so important in my life, who I loved a lot.

I still don't know why this happens! Every year....I can't control my temper, I get snippy, grouchy, and generally avoid everyone. It...it's as if I *should* know the reason....but I can't....or is it because I don't want to? I just don't understand.....!

Yesterday Sharie came back from her mission....very, very late. And she avoided me right then and there, and I did not really see her until I crashed head-long into her in the gardens....the fall snapping her wrist.

The words of impatience on my tongue died instantly when I saw all that blood. Gods, what had I done to her? It was one of the small bones in her wrist, but all the thorny brambles had ensured that several deep gashes made up for the lack of evidence.

I tried to help her fix it, and she was very reluctant, telling me it was her fault, she had been thinking too hard.....and my pity for her condition turned to horrified anger at what she started to tell me.

She knew where Karone was, who she was, and was not going to tell Andros.

I still don't understand where I got my rage from, but it was directed soley at her. How could she even consider such a thing....after how much Andros had helped get us together! The boy was in the same boat that we had been in, and she would have denied him the same chances we had!....

Even now, I still somewhat disagree, but then it was mere moments before we were screaming at each other. And what happened next still so fills me with horror that I don't even want to recount it.

But I am compelled to. I am the worst person at times, and I had been holding her other wrist, and in my anger, I sqeezed to hard and bruised her...again! To make matters worse, when she managed to pull away, she fell again...aggravating her other, broken wrist. Though healed now, her one wrist still bears the bruises of my grip, and still glare at me in a painfully obvious way.

Gods, I had never before seen such a flare of temper in her. And I thought I was angry! I can't recount what happened next before she turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The rest of tha night, and today, for the most part, I got the silent treatment. It was the worst torture I could imagine, and I just can't go back through what happened yet again. It's just too painful, the guilt and hurt too much to relive at the moment. And Sharie, if you read this, I expect you understand why.

I was never so grateful when Sharie forgave me. She said she did not deserve to be forgiven herself, for I understand how much she has suffered because of my stupidity. This evening, she followed me after avoiding me all day, and we made our peace as the sun set on Triforia.

But what is happening to us....it's not over, I can tell. I have the distinct feeling that something big will happen soon, and I am not sure I am going to like it. I am not a big one for premonitions, but I think the next big adventure may try us all. Now I understand what Sharie means when she says she feels icy chills going down her spine.

But, having reached present day, I expect that is another story.