The Two Captains

Prologue - Take Three

"You need a Champion."

"Do I, though?" Her voice was tired, but it still held the familiar hint of defiance and Mianite sighed.

"I cannot lose, sister! I cannot! And with...with...!" Mianites' eyes glowed gold for a brief moment and he spun around to face the flickering form of his sister. A brief shame washed over him at the tattered, exhausted state of Ianite. Her regal and beautiful nature torn to shreds, reduced to the dust that she seemed to be looking at intently. But he did not back down, even as Ianite looked up from her position on the floor.

It was never Iante' sanger that scared Mianite when he was younger, and he and the devil bickered endlessly. She rarely grew angry. When she did, it was a sight to behold, a furious Goddess' rampage. However, it was her need that terrified Mianite. That need for balance, for peace, for the scales to be tipped in either direction, but balanced perfectly, even on the thinnest point.

Even now, it was not that need that scared him. There was one state that he never remembered observing Ianite in when they were younger, and even as they grew into adulthood. There was never a need for her to hold such emotion in her heart.

Despair.

It was despair that shone through in Ianite's eyes as she looked up at her oldest brother from the floor. And Mianite knew exactly what she was thinking, however, his selfish desire consumed him yet again. There was plenty he could do to restore his sister's power, by ordering the mortals to do this or do that. But he was, quite simply, not willing to do it. It would mean letting him win in petty battles that would be held over him at the next opportunity.

"You need a champion to restore more strength within you, to enact belief in you among the mortals."

"Mortals who long for peace already know of me, dear brother and pray every day. However, nothing I can do as a God will grant them what they beg me for. Whether it be peace in their town, village or country that's fighting pointless wars--" Ianites eyes flashed green flames for a split second as Mianite began to open his mouth.

"Or for peace within themselves as they struggle with life or even peace in their soul that they will travel to a better place once their eyes have shut for the last time, and the pain of life has been taken away..." Ianite took a deep, shuddering breath, before she doubled over in pain, crying out as her whole form changed. Her veins turned black, eyes flaring in a painful fire, her whole body appearing to become withered and lizard-like.

All Mianite did was step back. He learned long ago there was little he could do to help his sister's pain. Her willing sacrifice for every person, no matter their belief or non-belief.

In reality, every mortal should be worshipping Ianite, in a small part of their heart.

But it was simply the case that they did not.

"...200 more gone." Her voice was cold, detached. Even as tears ran slow trails down her face, it did nothing to enact emotion in her voice.

Mianite learned not to ask whose side suffered the loss.

"I think I know someone that can help." He knelt beside his sister on the floor, taking both her hands in his and squeezing them tightly, rough calluses running over smooth, cold skin.

"I...I cannot...I refuse...."

"Sister!"

"No!"

Mianite bared his teeth, and for the first time, Ianite did not see her brother. She saw an angry God, desperate to put everything in order.

"You have no choice! Tacut!"