Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Disney/Haim Saban
It looked like a scene from a movie. Moonlight shimmering above head. An empty expanse of small stones, weeds and grasses. Two age old opponents, one clad in a white tunic and pants, the other clad similarly but all in black, standing metres away from each other, both assuming what the rangers could only think of as their ready positions. They were eerily similar.
Both stood with their feet braced a shoulder width apart, one arm curved behind their backs, the other out in front of them. But, while Dayton's was simply held out, like offering an empty place on the bus to someone else, Pleance's arm was raised, and his hand faced palm wards to Dayton, claws shinning dully. Then, slowly, as if to make a point, he curled his fingers into a tight fist, like he was crushing something in his palm. Dayton appeared unaffected.
"Dayton!" Pleance called. "We began this fight millenniums ago. We finish it now."
"No Pleance," Dayton returned. "You are finished now."
Jay couldn't help but grin, albeit grimly. "Look like we're a bad influence on him," he commented.
None of his fellow rangers answered. He cast his eyes forwards, like them, and watched in part desperation, part anger, fear and reluctant awe as the two millennias old enemies rushed each other.
Dayton jumped just before they collided, body twisting in mid air so he landed at Pleance's side. Without missing a beat, Pleance turned, fist ready to plough into Dayton's face. Dayton jerked his head to the side so the blow swished harmlessly past his chin, and pushed Pleance's arm back, moved to punch him. Pleance avoided the blow in much the same manner but, instead of simply knocking aside Dayton's arm, he caught it, tugged Dayton towards him, clawed hand lifting to slice.
Dayton jerked his head back in time, but the claws grazed his cheek. Lips pulling back in a snarl, Pleance let go of Dayton's hand, whirled to kick him in the back. Dayton ducked the blow by sliding into a split, ducking his head. Overbalancing, Pleance let out a hand, performed an awkward somersault to gain his feet. Dayton, meanwhile, had also done a somersault backwards to rise to his feet. They circled each other, wary.
Before, Dayton remembered, when they had fought without any between them, it had been day, the sun shining hot on their backs. And, instead of an empty lot surrounded by human created buildings, it had taken place at the side of a thick forest, with the volcano that served as Gregon's lair in the far distance. The Life Spirits had been battling Pleance's master, and their battle cries, as well as Gregon's furious bellows, had filled the air, made his ears ache. But here there was only the dull sound of their movements, the sharp gasps of their breaths. Pleance's monsters stood still as statues and even the rangers were almost deathly silent. But there was one thing Dayton was determined would be repeated; Pleance was the one who would fall. And this time he would be destroyed.
Pleance took a quick step forward, struck out. Dayton twisted his body to the side, caught the retreating arm and, pushing Pleance off balance, he made the white haired being fall with a kick to his balancing leg. In retaliation, Pleance kicked out as he fell, catching Dayton in an awkward strike to the belly that did nothing but startle the range mentor. However, it was enough for Pleance to jump to his feet. Dayton moved back, out of strike range as he considered his next move.
Dayton struck first this time, with a quick one-two aimed at Pleance's chin. Pleance ducked the first, was struck by the second; a quick glancing blow. He snarled, fang like teeth glinting, as he whirled away, feet flying in roundhouse kick. Dayton only barely managed to jerk back, Pleance's foot skimming the tip of his nose. He grabbed Pleance's foot, used it to topple the other man. Pleance went with the push, managed to back somersault and land on his hands. Pausing for a split second, he returned the way he came, attempting to slam his descending feet into Dayton's head. However, he was too slow and Dayton easily side stepped.
Pleance gained his feet, turned, foot aimed for Dayton's neck. Dayton blocked the blow with his forearms, backed away a few feet to gain his breath once more. However, Pleance, as if seeing the weakness, came after him in a flurry of kicking feet and punches. Dayton managed to block all but a kick to the chest, which sent him flying. He hit the fence, slid to the ground on his knees. A smile curling his thin, thin lips, Pleance approached him, almost strolling, as his hands curved in readiness for the final blow.
Dayton caught the punch to his face, slid across the ground to sweep Pleance's feet out from under him. Pleance didn't go crashing to the ground but Dayton managed to gain his feet and jump over him. Dayton whirled to face his opponent once more. Slowly, Pleance got to his feet, black eyes glowing. Dayton's tawny eyes were shining too, with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. With a low rumbling roar that electrified the nerves, Pleance rushed towards Dayton.
At the last moments, Dayton ducked, let him fall over his back and straightened, sending him flying. With what could only be termed as superhuman grace, Pleance landed on his feet, swung around to face Dayton once more. He sneered. "So you still use the old weakling tactics that were taught to us."
"They still work," Dayton pointed out with a sharp tone.
"'Taught to us'?" Trev repeated in a quiet voice, brow furrowing with confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
No one answered; the others were too intent on watching the fight. Pleance, as if in response to Dayton's comment, had attempted to punch the other man in his face. Dayton easily dodged the blow, caught his arm and twisted it behind him. Pleance kicked back with a vicious jerk, catching Dayton on his knee.
Dayton hissed in his breath, and his grip loosened enough for Pleance to break free with a simple flex of his wrist. Dayton somersaulted back before Pleance could do more than whirl around, fists raised. They circled each other once more.
Dayton kicked out, aiming for Pleance's head. Pleance ducked under the blow, popped up with an uppercut aimed for Dayton's chest. Dayton jerked his head out of the way just before his chin was hit. Pleance blocked Dayton's right hook, tried a punch to Dayton's belly. Dayton blocked it with his forearm and backed away enough for a quick roundhouse kick.
Pleance dodged, blocked Dayton's following fist and cut through Dayton's defence to strike his jaw. Dayton followed the blow with a whirl of his body, his foot lifting in a vicious kick. Pleance's head snapped back at the clout. His thin lips pulled back, revealing those inhumanely sharp teeth. In a sharp snap of temper, he tried a left hook, only to be deflected away.
They continued sparring with ferocious speed, the blows and kicks blurring until all could be seen with the naked eye was a flurry of motions, the sound of flesh striking flesh and the occasional grunt from an opponent. The rangers pressed themselves against the walls of their individual prisons, trying to see better, get closer to the action.
And the sun began to rise.
"This is taking too long," David muttered, watching the pale night sky start to lighten, with light reds, oranges and yellows piercing the sky. "If they're discovered…"
"Pleance'll kill anyone who gets in the way," Jay interjected.
"What's the point?" Trev asked. "They're evenly matched. What's Pleance thinking trying to bring Dayton down one on one?"
"Who knows what goes on in Pleance's mind?" Jeanie muttered, rubbing her bare arms. "Who wants to?"
There was nothing in Pleance's mind but the urge to take Dayton down, to destroy him. He refused to allow any memories, any old experiences to affect him. He had one mission; resurrect Gregon. And, with Dayton out of the way, his mission would be so much easier. Without their precious mentor, the rangers would fall, leaving the Phoenix vulnerable. And, when she was, he would take her, force her to resurrect Gregon. Or see her fellow rangers die as well. After her use was done, he would kill them all. And, in doing so, eliminate any threat to his master.
And to do so, he would need to bring out, as the humans in this time were so fond of saying, the big guns.
He retreated, or so it seemed, and held out one hand. Dayton watched him warily, hands half raised in readiness. Pleance sneered, and concentrated the energy that coursed through him, as much a part of him now as the blood in his veins. Light glowed in his hand, a sinister purple that pulsed even as it flowed, like it was water poured into a cup. The rangers watched, fascinated while Dayton tensed. The light lengthened into a straight line and a hilt began to form in Pleance's open hand. Pleance closed his fingers over it, claws digging into the light. And then the light solidified, hardened and became a sword with a black blade, with white carvings in an old forgotten language swirling along its sharp edges. The hilt was as black as the blade and perfectly contoured to Pleance's hand.
Pleance lifted it as Dayton held out his own hand and light, gold gilded with red, pulsed from it. The light pulsed, as had Pleance's, and moved like molten metal poured into a cast. Even as Pleance shifted his weight, prepared to strike, Dayton curled his fingers around the solid white hilt.
Dayton's sword was the direct opposite of Pleance's, his yin to Pleance's yang. The black carvings down the blade flowed more fluidly than the writing on Pleance's blade but they were of the same language and style.
Dayton lifted the sword, shifted his weight to better balance and turned the blade so the flat of it struck the sharp of Pleance's with a sudden clang. They back away, circling, circling, shifting their weight and waiting for the other's move.
Then, at the same moment, they seemed to tire of waiting and surged forward, swords meeting with sharp sounds that pierced under the rangers' skins and sparks that lit the air and disappeared into the ground. Over and over, they parried and thrust, moving almost graceful like for all the sound of heavy metal meeting. It looked like a dance in misty morning light; a dance to death.
Suddenly, Pleance lunged, sliding his blade along Dayton's, one hand thrust out. A dagger appeared in that hand, pointed straight for Dayton's heart. Dayton whirled, blade turning in a sharp white circle, the dagger slicing his side, drawing first blood.
Pleance grinned, black eyes lighting up with a dangerous light at the sight of the bright red blood oozing from the thin line on Dayton's side, staining his pristine white tunic. Dayton refused to put a hand to the sting, refused even to acknowledge it. To do so would be to show weakness, and it was weakness that Pleance loved to take advantage of.
Dayton shifted his stance again, lifted his sword up, keen eyes narrowing as he waited for Pleance's next move. He didn't have to wait long. Dagger and sword in hand, Pleance lunged. Dayton parried, turned to avoid the dagger and parried both blades again. Pleance swung the blade, trying to catch Dayton in the shoulder. Dayton jerked to one side, brought his blade up so the swords sparked as they hit. Over and over, again and again, thrust and parry, swords spinning in the air with deadly intent. Once, Dayton nearly scored Pleance's arm, only to have the other man bring his dagger up and block the blow.
The swords flashed in the strengthening sunlight as birds' songs began to weakly fill the air. Early risers' cars began to start up and the neighbourhood started to awaken.
Dayton suddenly jumped back, far enough that Pleance could not reach him with his sword unless he moved a few feet. At first, the rangers thought their mentor needed to catch his breath. But he closed his eyes and murmured something under his breath.
Pleance laughed – a cold, cold laugh that chilled the blood in the rangers' veins – when Dayton opened his eyes once more. "You think stopping time will give you some advantage?" He sneered. "Time will move on once you are destroyed. And this world will be destroyed with you."
"Will it?" Dayton taunted him before making the first move and rushing forwards.
Pleance was swift to meet the intended blow to his head, the swords slamming into each other with enough force to send vibrations down their arms. Dayton ignored them and pushed against Pleance's blade, trying to force it backwards. Pleance did the same, and the combatants struggled fruitlessly.
Suddenly, a laser was flung out from Pleance's hand – the one that had previously held a dagger. It hit Dayton square in the chest, flinging him back, skidding across the hard pebble strewn ground.
The sword in Pleance's vanished as something built in his other hand; a purple and green ball that seemed to hiss and crackle with the little lightning bolts racing across its surface as it grew bigger and bigger. He began walking towards to Dayton, who was slowly getting up, his sword having being flung feet away from him.
When the ball became too big to hold in one hand, Pleance curved his other hand around it, still walking forward. Dayton had begun to retreat. The rangers tensed, not liking the wary expression on his face.
Then Pleance moved, suddenly flinging the ball up and out, towards Dayton. Dayton froze and, in an almost belated move, flung his hands up, as if trying to shield his eyes from a bright light. Something circular and shimmering began to form in front of him.
"Dayton!" Eva screamed. "Get out of there!"
"Move!" Jay yelled. "Before the thing hits you!"
But Dayton ignored them, or so it seemed, and held his stand. Just as the thing in front of him solidified, the ball hit him. Or, more specifically, it hit the thing now shielding him. Pleance let out a cry of rage and, with narrowed eyes, held out a hand. Light poured from the hand, lancing to the ball, merging with it. The ball began to whirl, as if trying to bore a hole in Dayton's shield. But still it held.
Then, pushing his hands out, Dayton pushed the shield forward, sending it – and the ball – flying towards Pleance. Pleance barely had time to somersault to the side before ball and shield slammed into the ground, sending out a wave strong enough to send Pleance soaring back. He managed to land on his feet, one long clawed hand out to balance himself.
Dayton waited for Pleance to straighten and face him once more before striking. An amber coloured ball of swirling light blasted from Dayton's hand towards Pleance. Still recovering from the recent wave, Pleance didn't have time to do more than put up his arms before the ball struck him, ending him skidding back several feet. When he lowered his arms, began to make another energy ball, Dayton struck him again.
This time, the blow sent Pleance flying into the solid wood fence that surrounded the empty lot. He hit with a bone jarring crack, the sound sickening enough to make the rangers wince, then slid to the ground. And lay still.
Silence that pierced at heart descended on the lot. All eyes were on the limp figure on the ground. Pleance's hand had been flung out, long fingers curved inwards. It looked strangely vulnerable. His lashes lay like soot against the pale snow of his skin. And his white, white hair lay like a blanket around his too thin face.
"Is he…?" It was Ris who breathed it out, unable to finish the question.
As if to answer it, Dayton took a step forward, then another one, until he'd walked to Pleance. Slowly, he knelt at the still body, and, so very gently, he lifted Pleance's chin, turned it to look fully into his face.
And Pleance's chest rose and fell in one shuddering breath.