To awake in complete darkness is to barely wake at all. Jordan awoke in an inky blackness darker than the deepest depths of the ocean. He panicked, spinning his head around and blinking frantically in an attempt to regain his sight – to find something, anything that would relieve the burning fear of the unknown in Jordan's soul. There was no difference between his eyes being closed and his eyes being open, it was as if they never closed in the first place. Panic arose in Jordan's chest, constricting his lungs and causing his breath to come in short pants.

Tick tock.

The whisper in his ear echoed through his mind, bouncing and reverberating in an ever increasing crescendo of fear and terror. His limbs flailed frantically, swatting and kicking in a desperate attempt to rid him of the demons that were surrounding his shaking form. With his sight failing him, Jordan's other senses began to increase in sensitivity – attempting to deal with the black void of insanity Jordan was struggling not to fall in. The whistling of the wind seemed louder them before, its cold touch brushing against Jordan's skin and raising goose bumps on his skin. The hairs on the back of Jordan's neck stood on end, the prickling sensation slithering down his spine in a vain attempt to warn him of danger.

These creatures work for me. One of your friends works for me. Your lady died because of me. Andor lost his wings because of me. Yet here you sit, pathetic and weak in the darkness of your own mind because you cannot make a difference. You retrieved the memories I took from you, but at what cost? What's the point of having information if you can't share it with those it could save?

A spine chilling laugh echoed around the void, in which Jordan remained, trapped in the darkness of his own mind whilst his friends suffered in the real world.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"What do you mean he's in a coma?"

"The procedure failed, he's been driven into himself and we do not know how much damage we caused. Who knows how long it could be before he wakes up!"

"If he wakes up."

Jordan's prone form lay on the bed in Martha's cottage. His breathing was slow and quiet as if he was making little effort to keep himself alive. Various enchantments and incantations had been used; attempts to awaken him had all failed. All hope seemed lost. Guilt filled the air.

"If we had just listened to him, trusted him when he asked for our help... Maybe he wouldn't be lying in that bed if we had actually helped him; maybe he wouldn't have gone to such extremes to seek the truth..."

"There's no point in talking about what we should have done, there's no way we can go back and change the past. What we have to do now is find some way to wake him up and prevent the whole 'collapse of the world as we know it' prediction that crazy shadow lady was talking about."

Martha sat in the corner of the room, arms wrapped tightly around her shaking form – her purple locks hanging limply across her face. Her face was as white as a ghost, all the happiness and colour drained out of it, her mouth permanently twisted into a frown. Tears carved streaks down her face, through the dirt and grime that had formed over time – clearly, she had been in that corner for a few days. With each cry that escaped her chest, her body rocked back and forth as her aura flickered into a darker purple. The guilt was eating her alive and no matter what comfort Wag could offer her, nothing could bring her out of it.

Tucker held Sonja close, his hands running soothingly through her hair in an effort to console her. His eyes were filled with pain as he stared at the prone form of his friend on the bed but his priority as always was soothing Sonja's pain before his own. Sonja clung to Tucker, sobbing into his chest and leaving tear stains across his shirt. The mere sight of Jordan's helplessness and pain cut deeply into Sonja's heart, her mind and body crying out to Jordan's – in hope that her pain might relieve some of his. Tom stood by the couple, his fists clenched in anger and loss – a fire in his eyes that could only be quenched by Jordan's awakening or vengeance upon whoever did this to his friend. His face was tight with rage, the bags of exhaustion under his eyes becoming more prominent as he stared at Jordan.

The heroes of the land were distraught with anger and grief – too focused on their emotions to truly see the bigger picture around them. Mianite and Martha were weakened by the immense power they had used to restore Jordan's memories and Dianite was a mere spirit – there was little he could do apart from speaking and float around. Andor, Helgrind and Al were all gone, their last locations a mystery to everyone. There were only two people left in the realm that could make a difference.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Ianita climbed out the window of her bedroom – taking great care to be as quiet as possible. Despite Martha's wishes, the little girl had been told exactly what happened to her father. After receiving the news, Ianita went straight to her father's bedside and sat with him for a whole day – just staring at his still body and thinking. Whenever someone tried to talk to her, Ianita would wave them away with a small smile and the request to be left alone to think. The silly little girl that her father adored was gone, for now, she had been matured by the news and was determined to try to save her father and all those she loved.

Pulling out her angel ring, Ianita leapt into the air and began to hover – her tongue sticking out in concentration as she attempted to recall all the lessons her father and Auntie Sonja had given her. With a rush of confidence, she leant forward and began to glide away from the house that was filled with such grief and sorrow. Ianita wasn't sure where she was going, she was merely following her instincts and hoping that they would lead her to what she was looking for. She passed over countless fields and buildings, flying further than she had ever gone before, feeling the wind whip through her braided hair and the rising sun warm the skin on her back.

Soon she began to slow down, feeling a pull towards the top of a small mountain that sat on the very outskirts of the known realm. Beyond it was a wasteland, filled with creatures rumoured to be vicious and ruthless – undefeatable. Countless adventurers had travelled into the wasteland with the dream of conquering the unconquerable but few ever returned. Those that did returned with fewer limbs than they began with and more horrible images to recall in their nightmares.

Spotting a small clearing halfway up the mountain, Ianita tilted her body gently and began to float downwards – going as slowly as possible so she could get the landing perfect. As her feet made contact with the ground, Ianita stumbled and fell over – scraping her knees on a rock that jutted out from the otherwise smooth ground. Tears welled up in Ianita's eyes from the pain for a moment, before she blinked them away and settled into a more comfortable position. She crossed her legs and assumed a meditation pose, waiting quietly for someone to find her – full of confidence in her abilities.

"You know I never took you as the meditation type."

Ianita opened her eyes to see Caitlin leaning against a tree, a sword hanging loosely in a scabbard by her side and her blue eyes glinting with amusement. She looked fairly intact, a couple of shallow wounds down her arms and a fairly deep one in her stomach but she didn't seem phased by it so it couldn't have been that bad. Ianita stood up, brushing the dirt off her clothes and walking over to where the Ianitee awaited her.

"My mother is dead."

"A fact I am well aware of."

"My father is in a coma."

"Again, stating the obvious."

Ianita felt annoyance welling up inside of her, her tiny fists clenching as she fought not to snap at her only hope. Breathing deeply and pushing out a calming aura – she spoke again, the gravity in her tone making sure that Caitlin could not reply with a sarcastic quip.

"The world is in peril and all those with the ability to save it are either dead, near dying or distraught. You had the knowledge to forewarn us of these events which mean you must have some inkling of how to stop it or at least where to start. You will help me save my family."

"You've grown up awful fast Ianita. Last time I checked you are still a child; these matters are what we should shield you from rather than actively involve you in. Why should I help you anyways?"

"You swore to serve Ianite all that time ago. You suffered in her name and she has forgiven you time and time again for your crimes. With her gone, I ask you to do one more task for her. Help save the realm she adored so much, help me save my father – help us all."

Caitlin stared at the little girl, no longer seeing the immature child who used to shriek with delight whenever Caitlin created a shadow creature for her to play with. In her place stood a young woman, so achingly similar to her mother in so many ways – willing to go to the ends of the earth to do the right thing. To restore balance.

"This won't be easy Ianita. We may not succeed and a lot of blood will be on our hands."

"I know."

With that, Ianita made a small cut on her hand as Caitlin did the same. Once blood had been drawn, they stepped towards each other and clasped their hands together – a blood pact had been formed.

A/N

Things aren't looking good are they?

Thought we needed differing perspectives this time, normally I focus on Jordan but there's only so much you can write when someone's stuck in their own mind.

Ianita has grown up hasn't she? I always thought, that despite being a child she was incredibly mature during the story. 

See you all in the next chapter:

Please vote, comment and share!

Much love <3

- Caitlin