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Glitter
By Spartacus

The last moment of a life is supposedly the longest increment of time that can be experienced. It defies all laws, pushes each and every memory into the forefront of the mind with striking detail, and creates a powerful outlook and reflection on the life that has been lead up to that point. In that last moment, one lives again.

Goldar felt no pain. A pleasant rush ran through his veins, as if his simian blood was suddenly replaced with surging pride, and welcome redemption. Once the light had contacted him, his world ended, in more ways than one.

His sword was the first to crumble. Of course, it was. Years of mindless service and obedience, at the weapon's command, had blocked the truth from his mind. There was more to him than the Yes Man, the so-called warrior that rarely held victory, and constantly begged his masters to grant him forgiveness, and another chance to succeed.

Success, Goldar rememberred, was once his. He was no coward, no snivelling fool, not always. His youth, his days with his own people, were littered with accomplishments. His tribe's elder had described him as a powerful warrior, with strength that was outmatched only by his own compassion.

When battles had ravaged the people, and families were left crippled, or without supporters, it was Goldar who would spend his time collecting what he needed to survive. With his supplies gathered, he would then return to the hunting grounds, to the markets in the nearby towns, to present the needy with gifts from his own generous soul.

Then, he came. A skinless man with a tin framework, toting a staff that had been topped with his initial. The man known as Lord Zedd, an unknown entity to Goldar's people, arrived before the tribe.

Zedd sung a song of adventure, and spun a web of deception. Goldar paid no attention to the skinless man, more interested in the welfare of his family and friends, than of himself. It took the tribal elder more than three days to convince Goldar to join the kind Lord Zedd on a quest for glory. Goldar was their best warrior, and according to the elder, could not be held back by those who could learn to tend for themselves.

Loyalty to his people made him a hero.

Betrayal to his heart made him a villain.

Goldar struggled to reject Zedd's offer, at first. His sword, the simple, thin blade he had carried since his first successful hunt, had served him well. The weapon Zedd held before the simian, a dismal gray broadsword, seemed to have nothing that Goldar's original weapon did not possess.

Then, with Zedd's coaxing words, and an eerie, mental shrill that called forth from it, Goldar casted down his favored blade, and claimed the broadsword as his own.

It was in that moment, that Goldar was changed forever.

He wanted to protest the moment he wrapped his hands around the grip, but his cries were silenced by a disturbing sneer. He felt a dark poison fill his eyes, and his heart turn to unfeeling stone. Pride was replaced with a loyalty to the shadows, and honor was transformed into a violent bloodlust.

Within himself, the true Goldar died when he first uttered the words, "My master."

Centuries of following uncontested demands and declarations eventually washed what little dignity and decency had remained within Goldar's blackened soul. Eventually, the secret regions of his mind denied that it was the sword that made him what he now was, but his own spirit. He was not Goldar, champion of his people. He was Goldar, master warrior and loyal subject to the mighty Lord Zedd.

At his master's orders, Goldar took to servicing the overconfident witch known as Rita Repulsa. He was not eager for a change in duties, but followed them regardless. It would be a career move that Goldar, either Goldar, would always regert. The whining, the badgering, the irritating shriek that resulted from her 'best laid plans' failing miserably, was almost more than he could stand.

But, as a loyal servant to his true master, Goldar took the blame that was placed upon him. He could have easily swung the tainted broadsword against the witch's neck, though he never did. His commands were to obey Rita as he would obey Lord Zedd himself. And so, Goldar would kneel before his queen time after time, absorbing the underseved abuse, without question.

Punishment came again, when he was locked within a confining prison capsule with his queen, and the rest of her servants. For ages he sat, trying to ignore her incesant babbling, the numbskullery of her two do-nothings, and the worthless theorizing of a pondering elven scientist.

The only thing with the capsule that was not deemed as utterly repulsive, was the warrior Scorpina. She had taken a liking to Goldar after some time. Goldar on the other hand, had never endorsed how he felt about Scorpina one way or another. If she were to hang off of him from time to time, so be it. If not, all the better.

Surprise came with his release. The mudball that the moon which held his capsule had orbited around, had evolved into an impressive, but still-lacking state. Goldar was free, and humbled. Or he would have been, had it not been for another command from his ever incompetent queen.

It was time to conquer Earth.

Goldar dare not asked why.

In the coming battles, Goldar had discovered that he had severely under-estimated the defensive line constructed by the legendary Zordon of Eltare. The Power Rangers, while seemingly unimpressive in appearance, were quite the natural warriors.

He would come to find three of them very different, in the near future.

Jason.

The Red Ranger, the leader of the band of heroes, their prize fighter, their motivator. There was something Goldar saw within this young man. Jason's strength, his honor, his discipline, his desire, all of it slowly sent a shock that would reach Goldar's mind in the years to come. The Red Ranger cared for his friends, and everyone else. And he dared not to take the oppurtunity Goldar would, and strike an opponent who's back was turned.

Kimberly.

Memories of a forgotten life came alive when he saw the young Earth woman. She did not resemble any female from his homeworld, nor did she share their warrior skills, or even their priorities. She was unique, and never ceased to gain Goldar's attention. She radiated with a light that would, for only perhaps one second of each day, unlock a piece of Goldar that he had stored away, and forgotten. Any orders that revolved around the Pink Ranger, were always followed with an odd gratitude towards his shrieking queen.

Tommy.

Never a teammate, or an ally, the Green Ranger was always Goldar's equal. Neither could ever manage to best each other, and it was a rivalry that tore Goldar, or his sword, whichever was in control at the time, apart.

When the Green Ranger defected, leaving the shadows for the light, Goldar did not know if he should have felt dishonored, or jealous. With the proper cooperation, the two could dominate any force they might have come across in their warrior years. Instead, Tommy had chosen to betray his queen, something Goldar could never do. Tommy had been born again into the light. Something Goldar, or the sword, did not want. Tommy had found himself with Kimberly--

--Jealousy.

Tommy, to Goldar, was an older brother that was rewarded for each and every act, while Goldar went unrecognized. Tommy, once evil, had lost his powers, only to be handed a new, more powerful collection. Goldar, had temporarily lost his wings as punishment for failing to complete one of his queen's 'perfect plans'.

When Lord Zedd returned to personally oversee why Rita's missions had repeatedly failed, he expected his situation to change. Lord Zedd appreciated Goldar. Lord Zedd respected Goldar.

Lord Zedd punished Goldar.

Again.

And again.

It was only when Goldar had recovered from memory loss induced by a powerful explosion, and only for a handful of moments, that he was able to search through his own history, to come to terms with what he had done, and why. It was then when Goldar realized, the sword had lead him astray. The sword was cursed, and had been controlling him.

As it would control him again.

Some duties followed, but Goldar soon found himself without purpose. The Machine Empire had infringed upon Lord Zedd and Rita Repulsa's self-proclaimed duties of conquering Earth. Days and nights became tedious as Goldar spent all of his time with Lord Zedd's court within Master Vile's lair.

He was imprisoned once again.

Then, Dark Spectre, through the warrior princess Astronema, finally ordered the greatest strike on Earth ever seen. Not that Goldar would have any part of it. He would be in the deserts of Triforia, taunting Prince Trey, the Gold Ranger, to ensure that he would not reach Earth in time to be of any help.

The taunting and torture lasted for hours. Goldar would knock the Triforian down, and step back. When the Gold Ranger had expended enough energy, but not fully risen, Goldar would knock him down once again, or perhaps throw the Ranger about. And with each and every blow, Goldar would see in the Gold Ranger's visor, not the pleading eyes of a Triforian Prince, but the disrespectful glare of his unreasonable masters.

Revenge by proxy, was still revenge.

And then, destiny decided to make all right in the universe, if for just a short period of time. Goldar saw it, out of the corner of his eyes. Zedd bellowed. Rita shrieked. Goldar stood, silent. He knew the ring of light coming closer to him was pure. Goldar had never walked away from any confrontation, regardless of the opponent's form. His last battle, would not be a cowardly one.

He stood tall, as the light passed through him. In his own mind, he laughed, pleasantly. All of his memories, everything that had been stored away, were available once again. With each flake that chipped away from his broadsword, a favored recallection returned.

His negative emotions were wiped away in that final moment. Everything he had hated, everything he had envied, seemed inconsequential to who he really was.

He was Goldar, whose strength was outmatched only by his compassion.

And for his last moment in the realm of the physical, he would not let himself forget that.

The End