The Shadow's Scream
By Jessiekat
Disclaimers: Golden Sun is (c) Camelot. Elara is (c) Jessiekat; Oni is (c) Firecomet257.
A/N: Hey, everyone! Here's a random angst'fic from the depths of my mind – I'd like to thank Fire-san for letting me borrow her lion-slash-cobra demon idea – she gave it to me, you know, so she deserves some worshipping. X3 Worship, I say! Go read her fanfiction. Anyway ... please refrain from flaming this, although I'd love it if you reviewed anyway. ^-^
:: Chapter One: Premonitions of the Past ::
It had been begging, calling to him, calling him to dance. To dance and to sing, to be free, free as the wind itself.
This was, of course, an offer he couldn't refuse.
Looking up at the windowpanes, Ivan sighed quietly, and began to climb out of bed. As he pulled on his cloak, preparing for his nightly outing, the Wind Seer silently observed his friends.
First, there was Isaac. Ah, strong, brave Isaac – the perfect hero. Everyone liked him. He was the strong and silent type, an Earth Adept and skilled at nearly everything he did. The first of the group that was able to befriend Ivan, he had, apparently, decided it was his duty to protect the "little guy." Pfft.
Then there was Garet, Isaac's best friend. And Mia – she had joined the troop only recently, having left her hometown of Imil to accompany the trio on their journey. Mia was a healer, and the calmest of the four by far. Ivan chuckled softly, remembering – just the other day, Garet had attempted, yet again, to win Mia's heart. However, she had smirked, laughed at his attempts, and passed him by, in obvious rejection.
"Ah, well," Garet had said to Isaac, with a grin that was very transparent. "You can't win them all."
Those were the good days, indeed. Ivan didn't quite know why he had felt so ... distant, lately. The weather had been stormy, yes, but that usually made him feel good, made him feel alive. Not today, though – it had been, if anything, miserable, despite the strong gusts that still tore across the plains.
Something had been wrong. He could sense it in the air. There was no joy in his step, no happy tune upon his lips. Sighing once more, Ivan tiptoed across the creaky floorboards to retrieve his Djinni. The creature was snoozing in a pile of clothing, tossed carelessly upon a chair; she awoke when he touched her, cooing softly in his grasp, and allowed herself to be deposited carefully inside a pocket.
That was the problem with being a Wind Seer, he realized as he made his way down the stairs, being careful to step over the fifth, as it tended to give loud squeaks of protest when trod upon. While the wind was able to comfort you, it never provided a straight answer. Something is not right, it had said. Something will happen. But it never said what, or when, or even how. That was up to the Seer to guess, to attempt to predict those things. Ivan snickered again, only this time it was without mirth. He never made a good fortune-teller, especially not when it involved something important.
Something important, like his friends' lives.
No, it wouldn't be them, he assured himself silently. No one would want to prey on Isaac – except, maybe, for Saturos and his companion. They wouldn't be here, though, not in the sleepy little town of Kirai. Kirai wasn't even on the map, for crying out loud, despite its quiet beauty – the village was built nearly on the very edge of a gigantic lake, which was bordered on one side by a majestic forest. The trees stretched upwards, reaching hopefully to scrape against the midnight sky.
The lake was where Ivan was headed; there, the wind would be strong, the water cool, his worries few. A sudden thought struck the boy, causing him to halt in his tracks, his hand outstretched for the doorknob of the inn's entrance. If (that's a big 'if,' Ivan, his mind reminded him) it was pleasant enough here ... perhaps ... perhaps he would stay.
But Isaac and the others need me.
No they don't – what do they need you for? Of course, you have mastered Mind Read, but seldom does that come in handy. Mia is the healer, Garet is the fighter, Isaac is the leader. You are merely the little boy, the one that cannot fit anywhere.
They need me, though!
They care only for you because they feel they have to, not because they want to. Poor Ivan, they say. Poor Ivan, the boy raised by a power-hungry merchant, the merchant that insisted on being called 'master' by his own (adopted, Ivan reminded himself) son.
Poor, poor Ivan.
The Djinni inside his pocket gave a ruffled meep of impatience. She disliked being crammed in the dark space, but it was safer – if there were hawks about, she would be protected there, instead of out in the open, perched upon his shoulder. Granted, Djinn held powers beyond most peoples' wildest dreams – Arashi, however, was merely a youngster, not quite able to speak in complete, intelligent sentences yet. The Wind-type held Ivan in great opinion – she nearly worshipped the very ground he walked on, and became quite upset whenever she was parted from him.
"Ivan get going," she hissed from his pocket. "Arashi tired, wanna go sleep." Laughing quietly at the Djinni's comments, Ivan attempted to pull open the inn's door, fighting against the pull of the wind. It, however, did not seem keen on releasing its captive; the Seer yanked forcefully on the knob, and the door ricocheted open, nearly throwing Ivan to the floor. A quick glance to the front desk caused the boy to breathe a quiet sigh of relief; the keeper had gone, perhaps to sleep, perhaps merely to get away from the quiet of the lobby. Arashi cried out, a panicked sort of squeal; while it had no true translation, Ivan understood it well enough. He drew the Djinni from his pocket, patted her fondly, whispering encouraging words, then allowed her to cling to the shoulder of his cloak. And that she did; as her owner stepped out into the storm, Arashi's mood lightened considerably, and she gave another squeal – only this time, it was one of joy instead of fear.
The wind affectionately ruffling his hair, Ivan set out toward the lake. He didn't need a map; the village was so tiny that, if he peered through the hedges planted along the perimeter of a line of houses, he could see the great puddle from here. Pulling his cloak the slightest bit closer, Ivan smiled, the truest grin he had given for the first time in days. This ... this distant, detached feeling was so unlike him ... he had had these types of premonitions few times before. Disaster usually followed, like some twisted dog.
On most occasions, Ivan would have given in to the breeze's desires for the dance. He would have twirled, arms outstretched, face turned toward the sky – he would have nearly flew along the ground, cloak billowing out behind him, Arashi shrieking joyfully in his ear.
But tonight ... tonight was different. There was an odd sort of ominous darkness hanging in the air, the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Hands shoved deep into his pockets, Ivan trudged along the narrow path winding between groves of tiny houses, his cloak whipping excitedly about his shoulders. He paid no heed to the wind's invitation, however; he wasn't feeling well at all. Arashi, perhaps, noticed this anxiety – she gave a concerned peep, and then fell silent, wings trembling in the light breeze.
The rest of the walk was taken in silence. Tilting his head back to gaze up at the sky, Ivan's soft, shy smile returned; there was hope streaked in the infinite darkness. The moon's light was bright and yet dim; it bathed the forest in its peculiar, pale hue. The stars were invisible, for deep, lavender clouds had obscured them from view – the coming of a storm. As Ivan lowered his violet gaze, he noticed that he had somehow meandered off of the path – giving a slight chirp of amused surprise, the Seer trotted back onto the wandering, dusty path, and was delighted to notice that his trek had finally come to an end.
The trail tapered off into a fairly large area of sandy soil. Above this, however, the dust was conquered by grass – and from that it spread to the very edges of the lake, and it ran joyfully beneath the trees that cried for the sky's caress. The forest was dark tonight – not even Luna's touch could brighten the depths, and Ivan shuddered slightly, moving to the water's side. Arashi awoke from her light slumber, and chirred curiously, sleepily – Ivan grinned and reached up to remove the wind Djinni from his shoulder. She made no move of protest and instead yawned, her bright azure eyes closing for a moment as she reveled in her owner's attention.
"Well, Ara-chan," Ivan said quietly, so softly his voice was as light as the air. "It looks like we've arrived."
"Air'ved," Arashi echoed sleepily, causing Ivan to chuckle. As he took a seat, he placed the Djinni upon his knee, staring thoughtfully out over the water. With one hand he stroked the creature, while his chin rested on the other.
No thought whatsoever was given to the beast lurking within the forest's guise, nor to the fact that his staff was leaning against the wall back at the room, exactly where he had left it that evening.