Disclaimer: The Shadow belongs to MCA and Warner and the Power Rangers belong to Saban. This means they are not mine.
Title: The Heir of Shadows
Author: Kate R. with Cobalt Blue
The nineteen-year-old man walked through the streets of his old hometown unseen and unfelt. Although it had only been a few years since he left, it seemed as if a lifetime had passed. Much in his life had changed. At first the changes, and the responsibility that came with them, had frightened him much as the shadows in his bedroom had once when he was a child. Now, he was not the one who was frightened by the shadows. The shadows and darkness had become his allies, and to paraphrase a very popular character "a powerful ally they are."¦ Since he'd left this place three years ago, he'd learned to use them in ways that both thrilled and frightened him.
He'd always known that this was the path his life would have to take. He'd known; and that knowledge had frightened him into insensibility as a teenager because he was fighting darkness and he hadn't yet learned to tell darkness from evil. Now that he was older, he could see that those fears had been unfounded, they were among the weapons he'd learned to use. He wondered if his friends would even recognize him since that fateful day when he'd left this city for a world half a galaxy away, only to return to travel to New York to learn from his grandfather. Gone was the gangly, physically inept boy that had to be protected by his friends. In his place was..was...well, something he wasn't quite sure how to describe. Something that was part wolf, part shadow and part something he'd fought against for most of his teenage years.
He'd finally come to realize it was that something that had scared him. At first, he'd confused it with the shadows that seemed to come with it. Jinko was his grandfather's name for it but he had been spared that. Like all westerners, he had been raised with all the culturally biased fears about shadows. It had taken along time to bury those biases and accept it as his birthright and he did not have the seven years his grandfather had had to get used to it.
Now he used those shadows daily, or, more aptly, nightly, in what had become his home territory of New York. New York might be his home territory but this place, Angel Grove, was home. He'd returned here because his birthright told him there was something wrong here- something that required his family's special talents to put right. Of course, the chance to see his friends again was not something he'd turn down. A Ranger Reunion was as good an excuse as any to investigate without raising too many eyebrows. Besides, he was lonely in New York- all alone, in that big mansion by himself.
Still not quite ready to be seen, he walked through the Grant Park section of Angel Grove towards the Youth Center. Dressed in deepest blues- most people didn't know dark blue and charcoal grey made for better nocturnal camaflaouge than black ever did, he made his way past several of the older, more run down buildings. The fedora he wore was an affectation he'd picked up from his grandfather- besides, it was something that reminded him of the old man. Lamont Cranston had been a good man. Swallowed by darkness at one time but a good man nonetheless. The long charcoal coat was more of a necessity than an affectation though. It was his modern equivalent to the overalls he'd worn as a teen. He'd learned the coat was the best for carrying all manner of gadgets and weapons- not to mention it was remembered.
When he'd taken up his grandfather's mantle two years ago, he'd been surprised by how many people recognized his silhouette and the stark raving terror it produced. He was unused to being the one feared and that had at first left him uncomfortable- had required a certain adjustment to his thinking. He'd finally resolved it by looking at it as it was not him being feared but the alter ego he assumed. Most of his weapons however, were not being carried. They were in hidden compartments in the bag at his side- along with the Perva.
He thought about the reactions to him of those he defended the weak against and he contemplated the good he did. Maybe it wasn't as global as battling Rita and Zedd or as universal as being one of the last Ninjetti, but it was his heritage and the responsibility he had assumed when his grandfather passed the mantle on to him.
"Let me go you creep!" He'd have recognized that voice anywhere. He turned and looked in the direction of the voice and saw a flash of pink. He chuckled lowly to himself as he realized whoever this 'creep' was he had no idea what he was getting himself into. His best friend, his first friend in Angel Grove, Kimberly hart, was being dragged by a group of young men toward an alley. He flowed into the shadows and through them using their darkness to expedite his arrival on the scene.
"Let me GO!" Kim screamed as she stomped down on the instep of one of them men dragging her from behind, his hand none too gently raking across her bosom. Kim pivoted on her heel as she swept one arm around in a break that forced him to release her. Driving her other hand down in a palm thrust below where her sweep had ended, she struck the offender in the groin clenched her fist and then yanked back. HARD. The young man's face suddenly contorted in pain and horror at the crunching sound coming from his groin and he dropped to his knees, regurgitating his last meal.
Suddenly realizing they may have had more than an easy victim, the rest of the group produced several wicked looking weapons. The leader, carrying what appeared to be a revolver, smiled viciously at the petite gymnast and deliberately pulled back the hammer. The visitor watched as the look on Kim's face went from determination to worry. She slowly backed away, raising her hands.
"Look, guys," Kim said. "This has gone from harassment to something a whole lot more serious. I don't think you really want to do this." Her old friend could hear the nervousness in her voice.
He reached inside himself for the gift he'd feared so much as a child and summoned it to the surface with an eerie laugh- a laugh that inspired terror in all who heard it as the night deepened around the attackers and shadows became more ominous.
"Did you think I'd allow this?" the very shadows asked. The visitor laughed at their very panicked search for the source of his voice.
He saw Kim smile as she realized from whom the laughter was emanating. Of all their friends, only Kim knew he had finally accepted his grandfather's legacy.
"You guys are so about to get your butts kicked," she said sweetly.
"The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Did you think you could hide from me?" He projected the fear he wanted them to feel as he quoted one of his grandfather's corniest lines. But, it worked in New York and it apparently worked here as well. His laughter grew in strength as the darkness roiled around Kim's attackers. The leader dropped his gun and the gang grabbed their fallen compatriot and ran, stumbling away in fear. Seeing them flee, the visitor finally released his will and the laughter faded as the shadows removed the weapon.
"Kim, are you okay?" Tommy's voice broke the tension as he finally arrived on the scene. Kim nodded seeing the shadows had not returned to normal yet. As she searched the shadows, the visitor saw her smile to herself. Putting her hands on her hips in a pose speaking volumes of her irritability, she looked to almost the exact spot in which he was standing.
"William Lamont Cranston," she said. "You get your butt out of those shadows right now! I'm glad for the help but I did not find this funny."
"Okay, okay," Billy, said s he stopped clouding their minds. 'You haven't changed a bit, have you? Still demanding as ever." His smile, however, belied the seriousness of his words.
With a cry of "Billy!" She leapt into his arms. "It's great to see you! I can't believe you came."
"I said I would come if you called," Billy said with a nod to Tommy. "Hello, Tommy. It's good to see you again."
"How did you know she was in trouble?" Tommy asked. Billy chuckled still tinged with the power and he saw how Tommy reacted. He looked at Kim who nodded that it was okay so he said in what he had come to call his game voice:
"The Shadow Knows."
"The Shadow?" Tommy asked.
Kim sighed and touched his arm. "It's a long story Tommy. Lets go inside and we'll tell it to you. And Ernie has your favorite ready if you want it. The others are waiting for us there.
"That sounds wonderful, Kim," Billy said. Plane food is bad no matter which airline you sue but I did not want to fight with the jet. Of course, I may send for it later."
"Jet?" Tommy asked. "You have your own Jet?"
"Yeah, that's part of the story," Billy said as the three friends walked in to the much-loved Youth Center. Tommy nodded and followed thinking this was going to be one interesting story.