The Destiny Trilogy

Book One: The Legend of Chantri-Bova

Author's note: All beta thanks due to Jareth, AKA Stellar Raven.

Chapter 1: Power Rangers: Keepers vs. Takers

~Monday, August 25th

Elsewhere…

Ptep gil-Matri felt rejuvenated, but acknowledged that the affects of the transfer were only temporary. Soon I'll have the real thing…

But for now, it was just enough.

He had been patient for two centuries, but now he was anxious to stretch his legs again; two hundred years of captivity will do that to you.

His beloved bride's spirit called to him once again. I feel you, my Queen. We shall be one again…

It was time he left this place.

Ptep paused to smell the air. Rank. He smirked and backed up.

Moments later there came an explosion, taking out the side of the stone dungeon, and beyond the new doorway were his subjects: all blind loyalty, no soul.

Before making his way through, he shot up a quick prayer of thanks.

Let's begin.

~Fletcher High School, Chestnut, New York~

It was five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring. Antoinette Campbell was leaning up against the wall next to the door, reading a book and munching on an apple. Moments later, she noticed a group of guys coming down the hall, the one in front being the loudest.

She looked back down at her book, almost one hundred percent sure they were going to walk right by her. But to her dismay, her ears informed her they were actually coming toward her.

Great, she thought. Here come the jocks.

"Well hello there, sweetness! Can I get a bite o' that apple?" said the forerunner in the red letter jacket.

Antoinette moved her eyes from the book, at him and then back to her book.

So not impressed.

She continued to read, he continued to press.

"Excuse me, miss. I'm talking to you," he said, moving her book down from her eyes.

"Try not to touch the book," Antoinette said plainly, putting the book back up to eye level.

The blonde boy in red snorted, "Most girls would love it if I even looked at them…"

Raising a hand to cut him off, she dismissed, "You know what? Don't even finish that statement. First of all, you should maybe consider investing in a breath mint or two, and second of all, I suggest you back up some. Your nuts are within striking distance."

Just then the bell rang. She stood and headed for the classroom door.

"Oh, I see," said the red-clad jock, "You must be one of those chicks that don't like boys."

She whipped around and furrowed her brows at him. She would have to let him have that one; she had a class to go to.

Already, there were some kids in the room. Before she could fully step in herself, some dude pushed by her to take a seat in the middle.

As she passed by him, she stumbled over his deliberately protruding foot, but managed not to fall. She spun around to face him, and then glared at him for a split second before taking her book and whacking him over the head with it—hard.

There…now she could sit.

But she couldn't concentrate. Perhaps she was too serious for her own good. Perhaps she'd been too hasty in whacking him one upside the head.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the class, and up bolted the boy. In a flash, he was out the door.

She wanted to catch him so she could clear things up. He hadn't gotten far, though. In fact he was leaning up against the wall, as if he were waiting for something.

"There you are!" Antoinette began, approaching the guy. "I just wanted to say…"

That was as far as she got before she was rudely cut off by a shove. Antoinette's brow furrowed in confusion and anger.

He shoved her again. "I don't know who you think you are, geek, but I run things around here, and you'd do good to learn this quick."

Aw hell naw! she thought. Now it's on. She dropped her stuff and shoved him back. She didn't give damn that she was wearing a skirt and fairly high heels; she was going to kick this jerk-off's ass. She had her fill of bullies. Period.

"Look, buddy, I don't know who you've been dealing with, but I'm not the one." But at the last word, her breath was taken away on account of her back hitting the floor.

Oh no he did not! Antoinette sprang back up on her high-heeled feet and shouldered him as hard as she could into the wall, pinning him there.

Suddenly she felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her backwards away from the blue-clad jerk. She looked back over her shoulder. It was the same jock from earlier.

Successfully pulling her back, he stepped up to the bully. "You've stooped to a new low, man. Pickin' on girls."

The bully straightened his blue and white baseball shirt and walked off.

"Wow, miss. You've been a busy girl today!" said the red-clad jock, helping Antoinette gather her books. She thanked him as he handed them to her.

"See, I'm not that bad," he continued, smiling at her.

"I guess not," Antoinette said smiling while smoothing back her hair with her free hand. "I'm Antoinette, by the way."

"Brad," the red-clad boy introduced. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. Why don't you join me and my friends at lunch?"

Antoinette considered…briefly.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

John was stewing in his seat. This girl had actually retaliated—and right away at that! Now instead of the kids in the class laughing at the girl when she fell—which she didn't—they were laughing at him getting a book upside the head. He had to get the ball back in his court, or his boys wouldn't let him live it down.

When the bell rang he got up and waited for her against the wall outside the class. He shoved her, hoping that she'd get shaken up. He was counting on his size or the fact that she might not want to mess up her hair or something to intimidate her, but he was surprised when she shoved him back!

Now what was he supposed to do? He never escalated a fight with a girl, and this girl wasn't backing down. Was he really going to hit her? Despite her small size and the fact that she was wearing those ridiculous shoes, she still managed to knock the wind out of him when she shouldered him into the wall.

Then out of nowhere, Brad the jock pulled her away from him, thus saving him from doing something he might regret. He took the opportunity to leave.

After taking a few steps, he decided to look back, out of curiosity, and there it was: Brad the jock gets the girl again...

Just typical.

Brad had come around the corner just in time to see a fight in progress. He'd been about to walk by; It didn't appeal to him to watch disorganized bloodshed…but he stopped when he noticed who was involved.

A guy and a girl. And not just any guy and girl. John, the notorious troublemaker, and the girl that had dissed him earlier…and it had looked like she was holding her own.

Still, he didn't like her odds. This wasn't cool. He'd had to get her out of there before she got hurt and he'd have to kick John's ass once and for all.

She had him pinned against the wall. Good, it was high time John had a piece of humble pie. This was Brad's opportunity to scoop in and nip this before this escalated. If this dude even motioned like he was going to strike her, Brad would peel his face off.

Stepping up to John, Brad was surprised at how calm he was. He'd been expecting more anger.

He'd decided to give John a tongue lashing instead.

After John walked away, Brad turned his attention to the pretty African American girl and helped her with her books.

Perhaps I should tone it down on the grease ball shtick.

"See, I'm not that bad," he said to her.

"I guess not," she replied.

He was pleased to see a smile replace the scowl she had but a few seconds before. What a nice smile she had. He should try to coax her into doing it more often...

It had been a week since the incident with the bully, and since then it had become a tradition for Antoinette to sit with Brad and his two friends at lunchtime. They were cool peoples, and she liked their company. She hoped they liked hers too, because she was beginning to consider these people friends. She approached the table, and dropped her stuff…

"Hey, Nette," called the girl who seemed to have a passion for pink. "Why do you always wear black?" Nette raised an eyebrow at her as she continued, "I mean yeah, black is slimming and all, but would it kill you to put a little color in your wardrobe?" she teased with a smile.

Antoinette smiled back, shaking her head. She'd endured that question from the brunette-blond girl every day, and all she could do was laugh. It was the group's running joke, and it was always followed by an offer to go shopping.

"I'd wear yellow, but black doesn't make me wanna hurl," Antoinette replied. Getting comfortable in her seat, she added, chuckling, "And no, I don't wanna go shopping."

"Oh, leave her alone, Liz. I think she looks nice," the sandy-haired boy wearing green came to her defense.

"Why thank you, Pete," Nette accepted, mischievously sticking out her tongue at Liz.

"Nette always looks nice," Brad chimed in. If Antoinette were lighter-skinned, he'd be able to see her blush just then.

"Oh, stop Braddy-boy, you're embarrassing the poor girl," teased Liz. Sometimes Antoinette felt Liz was too perceptive to be healthy.

"That's it, I'm getting lunch," she declared, leaping from her seat and playfully gesturing as if she were to strangle Liz.

Liz spun around and tossed a napkin at her, then lightly shoved Antoinette, saying, "Go. The school food awaits."

Shaking her head, Antoinette approached the lunch line.

En route, she spotted that guy—John, was it?—sitting by himself. She had successfully managed to ignore him for a whole week. Right now would be no different, she decided. Surprisingly, he let her pass in peace.

Little did she know that that peace wouldn't last, for at approximately 3:15 that day, the ambulance would come to pick up her crumpled and unconscious body from the foot of the stairs in front of the school...

Zen'Aku lati, Tuesday, November 02, 2010