Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own Golden Sun

Forgetting Tears

Post battle with the Fusion Dragon…

Post rift in time…

It was there Isaac laid, atop the ruined Venus aerie. He hadn't known how long he was there, sleeping deep upon un-rest, thoughts in worry and disarray. He was alone atop the tower and among the clouds; long forgotten by the world he so wished to save.

Isaac was lifeless in his own purgatory. His limp figure went unfeeling as the seconds went by—turning to hours and changing scenes, that spared nothing in its hast except for him alone. It was amusing how the flow of time, even only a day, mocked him with its inattentiveness.

Still the same, it didn't matter—Weyard could do nothing to return what had been taken from him. The earth adept was suspended in the inert standstill.

His slumbering features were unresponsive to the malevolence of fate, as never once were they roused. He almost seemed peaceful, even.

The sun was strong, suffocating him in its beaming embrace. The sunlight nibbled his cheeks with a tingle; its warm sensation danced upon his face and blended with the coolness of his tear soaked cheeks, giving feeling from damp numbness.

Chapped lips were throbbing like blood, more so than the vibrance of his throat, or the veins on his wrists. Isaac's lower lip was rusted with broken skin, swollen with so many dark patches—yet still showed signs of life continuing once again, as his mouth moved in slow rises. It was as if they were whispering silence as he exhaled, warm air escaping through the gap.

The back of his ears were feverishly blushing in the day, as if someone in the world still spoke of him, behind his back, without him knowing, and even now…

He twitched his nose, early signs that his awaking mind was stirring his exhausted body up from sleep. He twitched his nose again, wrinkling it for a second. It was all to no avail.

Thoughts in the back of Isaac's mind washed out as they went unheard, whether they spoke insults or reason. It was a women's voice that did what his conscience could not. The voice spoke tenderly in his own remembrance, yet now seemed almost unrecognizable with its depressed, melancholic tone. Regardless, Isaac knew that it was her in this dinged, dreamy state of mind.

The thought of her was enough to keep him from withering into an early death, alone atop the lighthouse.

Isaac abruptly jerked into a sharp gasp for air, and then another, all the while thinking of her. His breath caught in his throat, unfortunately, as his constricted inhalations began to choke. He was breathless as he remained still on his back, almost trapped between his dream world and the lighthouse, even trapped between breaths. His eyes were shut even tighter now as it became harder and harder for him to take in air.

It was as if he had surfaced from the ocean, having nearly drowned in its waters. He began to pant, the intervals of his breathing straining incredibly. He was drowning. Isaac, atop the Venus lighthouse, was drowning.

He was drowning in his own desperate and resentful tears. The feeling of loss: a tragedy in which he couldn't understand why he felt the way he did. Isaac couldn't grasp the puzzling emptiness, and couldn't help but wonder… how could he be so depressed over something he couldn't remember?

Memories flushed in like the sea, wave upon wave. His mind began to race frantically, leaving him unaware of the here and now, teasing him with insignificant thoughts of the past; thoughts leading to the last thing he remembered.

His panting stopped, like the calm before a storm. Did this scare him? Just as soon as he was ready to surrender to this plague of the mind, the tide of memories dimmed down to a steady mentality. Isaac remembered why his cheeks were stained with crystal tears.

His eyes snapped open, becoming blinded by the overhead sun. A streak of invisible white glimmered for a second in the sun's glare, as if looking through glass—a fine divider between him and the world around him. Of course, there was nothing there to separate him from the ruins of the broken tower.

His hand, which once lay motionless at his side, now gripped to its centre. His fingertips were bare, and caught up ash as it formed into a fist. The floor beneath him was lumpy and uneven for the entire aerie had caught in flames long before. Now, he was lying on a mound of black sand, it's feel grittier rather than silky. The world around him soon became all too real with its present misery.

His eyes searched the once beautiful Venus aerie. He had realized then that he was on the level directly below it, and that the aerie itself laid in destruction, most of it torn, leaving the exposed sky above.

Isaac's eyes continued to explore; search the blackened walls that once were beautifully engraved with pictures, search the chipped ash covered floors, search the rubble all around… The aerie seemed dream-like, reflecting Isaac's own present state of mind, disbelieving and unreal.

His eyes finally settled on the beacon dish where the lighthouse light once seeded. Isaac could see what was left of it clearly from below, for the aerie once posed as a roof, and now was mostly gone. The dish was naked, a star no longer there producing light. As for the statues that adorned the aerie decoratively, all now had fallen, save one of which, was now painted a deep black. It was unrecognizable as a statue of Venus, the details upon its face now gone, a burned away beauty.

Isaac had risen to his feet, standing amidst a surrounding black. The impulse of Earth psynergy no longer surged through the now echoing halls and dull corridors.

He barely even noticed the Venus star motionless at his feet. His attention was elsewhere, to his own ash-covered hands. The burnt ash felt nothing like the warm earth he was so very familiar with. He was a Venus bound adept, and had grown to love his element the way others have their own. It was the nature of an adept, and he was no exception.

His mind trailed off with warm memories, unintentionally forgetting his own awareness. He accepted their invitation with open arms, willing with any excuse to get away from the here and now.

He thought back to Vale, to his younger days as a child. Isaac remembered when he first realized his own potential. Felix was the first to become acquainted with the basics of psynergy, and seeing how happy he was that day, golden light leaking through his hands, a rose barely blooming between his fingertips, only showed Isaac his own possibilities for the future. The rose itself was beautiful, a cottony feel with an empty scent; a thing that only Felix appreciated, for Garet and Isaac did nothing but criticize him for having made something somewhat feminine.

He thought back to Vale yet again, to when it was him who harnessed psynergy for the first time. He had summoned a minor quake, trying to impress a young, hot tempered, red haired little girl. They were playing at the riverside, and it was his way of ending a one-way argument between them both. The banks of the river felt comforting between his toes, and the quake had left her dumbstruck. She had giggled further, amused with his talent, though it was his first time. Isaac remembered how she hoped back and forth, playing while trying to maintain balance, until she inevitably lost it and stumbled forward. Jenna had recovered herself at the last moment, clinging to his bare back and laughing it off with a blush.

Isaac thought back to Imil, and how cold it was. He had remembered the first week he was there, and how the land was a pale white with hardened snow. Even then, when he'd have to dig through to reach the hidden earth, he would always find warmth and familiarity. If he held the soil long enough in his hands, and concentrated just as hard, he would always feel homely. He remembered how he had gotten a cold that way, 'digging like a dog through the snow' as Garet had put it. He could never forget how embarrassed he was by that remark, especially when the quiet blue-eyed newcomer had given him a consoling smile—raising one eyebrow in curiosity at his oddness. Isaac had found it awkward on his part with a woman like her in their party.

Finally his mind returned to his present dilemma, and how queer the black grains felt on his hands. They had imbedded themselves deep into the wrinkles of his palm and into his nails. He could feel each grain, and how empty it all left him, no warmth or relief. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and a growing resentment in his heart. It reminded him of why he was sad now.

He ran to a wall, furiously wiping his palms against it, despairingly trying to brush away all the black ash. Fury defined his cobalt blue eyes, piercing through his once forlorn surrender.

The wall itself was black though, and the more he rubbed at it, the more it began to chip and erode into more ash, staining his hands deeper and deeper. His cheeks could feel warm tears again.

He begged for it all to go away. Begging to himself, to anyone, to the thin air that surrounded him. Nothing. His tears were still silent, growing constant as a few quite sobs escaped his restraint.

As all hope was dismissed and Isaac finally ready to breakdown, things took a turn; the sky had taken pity on him with rain. It started as a few drops, then grew. It wasn't a downpour, but if he stood still long enough the rain would clean the ash away.

And so, Isaac waited patiently, staring intently at his open palms and cringed fingers. Slowly, he watched the water fall down, and the traces of skin grew larger. The last of his tears were gone, along with all the ash.

He had remembered the reason he was crying… For a moment he had nearly forgotten, but then remembered again as time passed by, standing in the rain. He was alone now, with only himself to count on. He had to continue on alone, try his best for his party, for himself, for her…

He had remembered the reason he was crying, as he scooped up the star into his empty mythril bag, and headed for the exit. What he had to do now was forget it all, for a moment, the way he had done before the rain. Just for a moment, so that he could avenge death and finish his mission. Too much depended on him, and he would only need to push his memories aside until it was all finished. Isaac needed to blind himself from the past, just for a bit, yet never allow himself to truly forget, ever.

The dragon was still out there, it was something he could feel in the air... Felix was still out there, it was something he could feel in his heart… The shadows were growing, and soon Weyard would fall if he stopped in his quest now.