#theadel

“Jonah, where is your brother?” Ianite asked quietly. The portrait painter, a man who’d travelled far at Ianite’s request for this painting, looked impatiently at his pocketwatch. Ianite gave him an apologetic look but then turned back to her son, an expectant violet eyebrow lifting over her emerald eye. 

“I don’t know. He was still asleep when I woke up but I haven’t seen him since then. He knew what time we had the sitting.” Jonah replied primly, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in his tunic. 

“I’m here! Sorry!” Jordan’s voice called as he ran into the room, shirt unbuttoned and hair disheveled, his bow clutched in one hand. “I overslept.” he offered by way of explanation, shooting his mother a small guilty smile.

“I reminded you last night, how did you forget?” Jonah questioned, accusation in his tone.

Jordan frowned back at him “I didn’t forget. I just overslept. But I’m here now so-” he stuck his tongue out at his brother, Jonah rolling his eyes at the childish behavior. 

Ianite said nothing, letting her sons get their teasing out of their systems. Oh to be young with a sibling. She remembered her own childhood growing up with Mia and Dia, the hours spent making mischief and arguing over the smallest things. It was with a bittersweet smile that she ran her fingers through Jordan’s unruly hair, straightening it somewhat, but not too much that he didn’t look like himself.

If this was to be the last image she had of her sons, then she wanted it to be as they were.

~

She’d known the fate her sons would face from the moment they were born. She, of the three divine Gods of this world, had been blessed with the gift of prophecy and far sight. The void that filled her home realm spanned across every dimension, it was because of it’s power that she could catch glimpses into other worlds and other futures. As she held her boys in her arms that first night, soft and small and so very fragile, she saw their destiny. 

She saw them, grown into handsome men, respected and powerful warriors. Leaders among mortals and proponents of Balance. She saw that one day they would leave the End, each coming into the service of another version of herself, her Champion in all realities. She was proud of them, even now mere hours after meeting them. She placed a kiss on each of their temples, whispering “You will go on to great things my sons.” 

As they grew, their futures became more clear. She had a great many years to come to terms with them. She would be forgotten by them one day. They would lose their memory of her when they left their home in The End. After that realization, she’d poured herself into researching spells to prevent such an outcome, but all she came to understand was that destiny was not something that could be tampered with. Her sons were needed by the other versions of herself. So she would have to let them go. 

Knowing that she would lose them one day only drove her to spend more time with them. She spent every waking moment she could joining whatever games they played and indulging their fantasies and wishes. They had visions as well, she came to realize. Nothing as concrete as her own, but visions nonetheless. 

“Why is Jonah the Commander and you the Captain?” She asked Jordan during an explanation of a game of make believe they were playing. 

“He just is. I like being the Captain and he likes being the Commander.” 

“Yar! Surrender your ship Captain Sparklez! Ye are being boarded by the notorious Commander Redd!” Jonah shouted, brandishing a toy cutlass that one of the pirates had brought when they’d last come to visit.

“Never! I will protect My Lady till me last breath!” Jordan retaliated with a smile, waving his own toy sword. 

As the years passed, a sense of melancholy anticipation began to grow within her. With each day that passed it only grew stronger. It was their 15th birthday that she finally realized what it was. They would be leaving her soon. One way or another she would lose her children. 

They began to notice her mood as the melancholy built to an almost crippling level. It was Jonah who suggested the portrait. Both he and Jordan had begun to discuss in passing what lay beyond the End, what worlds there were to explore together, for no matter how much they fought, they never planned to leave each other’s side.  He must have assumed that she was sad at the thought of them leaving, not knowing just how right he was. 

When Ianite woke the day of the portrait sitting, something in her knew this would be the last chance she had to create a physical memory of her sons. She did her best to keep the sadness contained, lest the boys catch wind and grow suspicious. She wanted their last day together spent like any other, not with them trying to comfort her of a future she’d known was coming their whole lives. 

Hours after they’d gone to bed, Ianite carefully crept into her son’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind herself. Without a sound she settled into the plush armchair she’d spent hours in when they were young, reading to them, cuddling them, consoling them. They were both sound asleep in their beds, tufts of dark hair poking up past the blankets. It had always amused her how different they were asleep than when they were awake. Jonah, so put together and proper, tangled himself among his blankets while Jordan, normally the one rushing from one thing to another, was still as the dead, his own blankets with hardly a crease in them. 

She took in the sight, not even bothering to wipe the tears that welled in her eyes. She’d known for a long time that they would leave her and she had come to accept it, but she would hardly let them go without one last gift. 

Ianite, the Goddess of Balance, lifted cupped hands to her heart and quietly began to recite the spell she’d spent much of their lives crafting. 

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet And may you need never to banish misfortune May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you To guide you each step of the way To guard you and keep you safe from all harm Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

As she let her voice trail off, wisps of violet magic filled the room, drifting and swirling around her sons and blessing them with her power. Whatever they may face in their futures, whatever would bring them to their own Ianites and whatever tasks she set for them, they would be protected. 

She stood from her chair and moved to kiss each of their foreheads as the glittering magic settled upon them. 

~

The next day she watched from a window as they took off the edge of the island, elytras on their backs and laughter on their lips. 

When Jordan woke up, he was astonished to find that he wasn’t drenched in sweat. He didn’t feel hot or feverish or weak or nauseous or achy. He felt like himself again. He wasn’t quite sure where he was but at least whatever sickness he’d been dealing with the last two weeks had finally subsided. He was laying in a bed in a brightly lit room with a high vaulted ceiling. It could have been overwhelming on his eyes, made of quartz and polished carved endstone, but whoever had decorated had used tasteful accents of purpur and obsidian and oak wood to mellow it out. He managed to sit himself up in the bed and looked around. He must have been in some sort of infirmary, curtains cordoneding his section off from others. Next to the bed was a side table that had a pitcher of water, a glass and his glasses. He was pouring himself a glass of water when one of the curtains parted and Commander Redd entered.

“Good to see that you’re awake Captain.” He greeted with a nod. 

“Don’t suppose you could tell me where I am or what happened?” Jordan asked. 

When they’d first arrived in Theadel, Jordan had been secretly excited to finally be in a world where Ianite was the dominant God. He’d spent so long in the minority, worshipping a God that either wasn’t taken seriously or was forgotten all together. He’d also been immensely fascinated to meet another version of himself. They’d heard all about their Ruxomar equivalents but aside from Mot and Farmer Steve he supposed, had not met any of them. The Commander was intimidating, every inch the Champion of Ianite, from the way he held himself to the way he dressed. In a way it made Jordan feel inadequate. But they’d seen the way the townsfolk reacted to the Commander’s presence as he showed them around the town. How they’d cowered and averted their eyes in a way that was just a bit darker than respect. Their suspicions only grew as the topic of Mianite and Dianite came up. The Commander’s eyes had sharpened behind his glasses, his neutral expression suddenly looking just a bit forced. 

“Pray to them if you want, not that it will do you much good now that they’ve disappeared. Just don’t do it around me or out in the open.” 

Tom and Tucker had been immediately untrusting and had said as much the moment the group was left alone. Jordan had wanted to give his alternate the benefit of the doubt but even he had to agree that it was suspicious. Tom had been the one to find out about the Rebellion and how to go about joining. Jordan didn’t want to believe that the Ianite of this universe was evil, she was supposed to be the balanced one, the one who didn’t change sides. But still he went with the others into the Nether with the hopes that they would find a way to help Ianite. 

The moment he’d stepped into the portal something had felt off. Dimensional travel always felt strange but this time, it had almost hurt, like he was pushing past something he should not have been. He always felt the heat of the Nether, all of them but Tom did, but for some reason here it was just so much hotter. His condition only worsened with each passing day and the days that he spent locked up by the rebels who thought he was the Commander certainly didn’t help his health or their thoughts that the Commander was someone to be trusted. Jordan had begun to wonder if this feeling that his God was the villain was why Tucker had mostly stayed quiet about Mianite in Ruxomar and why Tom had never chosen to live too close to the rest of them in their first world. It was a feeling of being an outsider, like no one trusted you because of what your God was doing. Eventually the others convinced the rebels to let him out of their prison but it still didn’t change that his health continued to worsen. He coughed blood more often than not, was always lightheaded from dehydration, his vision blurred constantly and he just ached endlessly. But it was the feeling of being unwelcome that drove him to keep his sickness a secret. 

He had been doing well enough at hiding it until they’d been attacked by dozens of enderman who in this world were apparently Ianite’s soldiers. They ran but he couldn’t keep up, body too weak to obey. He tripped and the world faded, his last sight was Tucker and Tom screaming his name. 

“We’re in the infirmary in Ianite’s palace in the End. We brought you here to heal you. I thought I warned you not to enter the Nether?” He spoke in a way that could have been teasing if not for the undercurrent of apathy in his voice. 

“What does the Nether have to do with me getting sick?” 

“Dianite cast a spell upon the entire Nether years ago. It prevents followers from Ianite from gaining safe passage through his realm. I can’t even enter. You must have been able to push the limits since you are not of this world.” 

“So the others…?”

“Should be fine.” Jordan allowed himself a sigh of relief. He didn’t think any of his friends had been experiencing the same symptoms he had but the confirmation was reassuring. 

“But why would Dianite do that?” He asked.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ianite who answered. “I’m not sure what possessed my brother to banish so many from his realm, but he did nonetheless.” Jonah bowed immediately when she came through the curtains, something Jordan felt a bit strange about doing himself. While he’d always been respectful to Ianite, she’d never once asked him to bow or expected him to. 

Despite knowing what Otm and the others in the Nether had said about her, Jordan couldn’t help the feeling of relief at seeing Ianite. She didn’t seem to be any different than the other Ianites he’d known. She still wore a purple gown, flowing and intricate. Her hair was still deep violet and was done up in some complicated looking braided style accented with gold pins. Even her delicate tiara was still in place. The only thing that was slightly strange were the strategically placed pieces of golden armor, a chestpiece, shoulder pauldrons, and arm guards replaced all her normal jewelry. But yet, even with these changes, her soft smile was enough to push away any concerns at the moment. This was Ianite after all. He trusted her. 

“How are you feeling Captain?” She asked, coming to the side of the bed and gently touching his forehead. 

“Much better Milady, and please, call me Jordan.” He could feel the touch of her magic, the familiar shimmering tingle reassuring and comforting. 

“That’s good to hear. You had me quite worried. Your reaction to Dianite’s spell was near fatal.” Her hand moved from his forehead to gently cup his cheek. “I was afraid I might lose you.” He blinked, unsure how to reply. “I’ve been waiting for the chance to speak with you myself. Ever since I felt your arrival in this world I wanted to reach out to you. You’ve served my other selves so loyally over your travels, it’s time that one of us showed you the appreciation you deserve.”

How did she know? He’d never told anyone that he felt unappreciated. Sure Ianite had given him occasional gifts and praises over the years but so much of his effort had been unacknowledged. The Ianite of Ruxomar had been so focused on trying to make him a replacement for her husband while the Ianite in the first world had simply been absent and untouchable, only showing herself on rare instances. Now, he found himself almost leaning into her touch, surprised at just how starved for her gratitude he was. 

“This is where you belong, Jordan. At my side. In this life and all others.” She pulled back, smiling at him. “It may be unorthodox, but no one ever said I couldn’t have two Champions at my side. Though I suppose in a way you are both the same man hmm? What do you say? Will you stay?”

He looked up at her, glancing quickly at the Commander before flicking his eyes back to hers. He should say no. He should ask to leave and see what he could accomplish on his own in the Overworld but if something really was wrong with Ianite, wouldn’t he be in a better place to help her right here? The more selfish part of him wanted to stay for the reasons she’d offered, to be appreciated and respected past a follower or replacement. The Commander had said nothing and gave no hint to what he may be thinking but something in Jordan almost thought that the other man wanted him to stay. There was something more that Jordan didn’t know about. 

“I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.” He eventually settled on, letting his eyes fall back to the Commander. Ianite followed his gaze and hummed in understanding. 

“Jonah, am I in anyway offending you by asking Jordan to stay and serve at my side as you do?” She asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

“No My Lady.” He replied instantly. “I am interested in knowing him as well.” 

She smiled, sharp and dazzling then looked back to Jordan expectantly.