Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Well, this is my first time trying anything relating to Shadow Hearts: From the New World. I have avoided this story, mostly because I didn't care for it. I think that's partially due to the Shadow Hearts team being rushed to create a new game, but it's too bad that this game could be the last in the series. Nevertheless, I have some ideas with this game that I decided to put into motion. In regards to my other two Shadow Hearts stories, this story will be in perfect harmony with Life in Japan but not so much with The Red Scare. However, elements of The Red Scare will be found. I suppose that it can be said that this story is not completely canonical, but I think it will be a good story nevertheless. As always, I ask you to read and give critical reviews.

Nothing lasts forever,
but the certainty of change—

"Darkness Be My Friend"—Bruce Dickinson

Darkness and Light

Chapter I

New York City, December 1929, snow descended among the Christmas lights, and the city workers did everything in their power to keep the snow off the streets. But this Christmas would be different for most Americans. The affects of the October crash were beginning to affect the pocket books of Americans around the country. But for Christmas, parents would go the extra mile to make certain their children had plenty of presents under the Christmas tree. However, in the Garland Detective Agency, this worry about Christmas was not a problem. The proprietor of this agency was a 22 year old blonde haired-green eyed man, Johnny Garland. Although Johnny was 22, according to his birth certificate, in terms of his looks he was only 17, and these looks often affected his worldview. Johnny had been born wealthy—the son of a prominent New York doctor—but his family's wealth was diminishing; and to make matters worse, so was his detective business. Since the October crash, Johnny had received fewer and fewer phone calls. By December, Johnny informed his butler—the incredibly strong Lenny Curtis—that "a call looking for a lost cat or dog would sound nice."

"I know it, Master Johnny," the cue ball headed butler responded. "The president says we'll soon be out of this mess, but it's been getting worse and worse for the last two months."

Johnny sighed. "Of course, money isn't everything."

Lenny nodded. "True, it can lead to greed—one of the forms of corruption for most people."

Johnny returned the nod, and began to pace around the agency. Turning back to his servant he said, "Care for a drink, Lenny?"

But the butler gasped. "Master, you know that's illegal?"

Johnny chuckled. "Well, if you feel that way, we can always drive to Canada where it is legal."

But Lenny returned the chuckle. "No, it's all right. Having been born in Switzerland, I think it's stupid that a bunch of tetollers living thousands of miles away in Kansas are trying to change the way the every other American lives their life."

Johnny smiled. "To the underground nightclub?"

"To the underground nightclub it is!"

The Manhattan bar, or nightclub, that Johnny and Lenny visited was called in secret 'Killarney's'—named after a town in Southwest Ireland. The proprietor of Killarney's was addressed by his pseudo-name, James Guinness. James was the man's first name, but Guinness was his pseudo-last name, named after the famous Irish stout beer. James was an Irish-Catholic immigrant, who survived the 1912 Titanic disaster, and he did not take kindly that a bunch of Protestant women living in Kansas were going to tell him whether or not he could have a drink.

"Good to see you boys," James said in his thick Irish accent. "What can I get ya?"

"One of your homemade lagers," Johnny replied.

James nodded, and turned to Lenny. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll take some blended whiskey with some ice, water, and an olive."

"No problem."

Johnny turned to Lenny, while James prepared his drink. "You ask for some interesting drinks, don't you?"

"It comes from the time that I was living in Cannes."

"Cannes?"

"A town in Southern France."

After James served their drinks, and Lenny took a sip and Johnny a gulp, Lenny continued the conversation. "You know, Master, you seemed a little depressed earlier. Are you drinking to forget something?"

Johnny took another gulp. "Maybe a little. Business being down and such."

"I don't think that's it."

Johnny turned. "Then what do you think it is?"

"It's Shania, isn't it? You were thinking about her again?"

Johnny stared into his beer, and then stared into the whiskey bottles on the wall. "You know me too well, Lenny."

Lenny smiled. "I've known you, since you were a boy, Master."

Johnny sighed, and turned to his servant and friend. "I could save the world, Lenny, but I couldn't save her."

Like a big brother, Lenny put a hand on his master's shoulder. "Try not to think that way, Master. You may still be able to save her."

"The only way I could save her is to do with Riccardo did with Edna."

"Which was?"

"To kill her, before she went even further insane." Johnny took another gulp. "Of course, I don't even know where she is."

"No word?"

Johnny shook his head. "No word. But I think Natan may be tracking her."

Lenny took another sip. "Master, I think I know someone who can help you."

"Who's that?"

"Roger Bacon."

"Roger Bacon?"

Lenny nodded. "Yep. If anybody knows anything about how to remove the curse of malice, it's definitely him."

"But we don't know where he is, Lenny. After the final battle, he left the country, and said he was going home to Wales."

"I know where he lives."

Johnny was stunned. "You do?"

Lenny nodded. "Yeah. We can leave as soon as you like. How would you prefer to travel—by sea or by air?"

"We'll book a plane…"

"But that'll cost us more money, Master, and remember, we haven't been getting many calls lately."

"I still have some money from my journey to save the world."

Lenny nodded. "Very well. I'll make the arrangements tomorrow."