Author's Note: This was written as a Secret Santa gift on Harvest Dreams, a site on which I'm an admin. I just like Alisa a lot, so I'm posting it here, as well. This is the Sunshine Islands HM game, where Alisa has what appear to be heart events with the male main character, but isn't eligible for marriage due to her devotion to the Church.

Reviews are always nice. :3

The light pouring in through the stained-glass windows was deceiving; the colors dancing on the floor and on the altar looked happy and carefree. It neglected to illuminate me, sitting idly in a pew in the front row.

The Church was always abandoned. Nathan, the closest thing to family I had, was out and about, Goddess knows where. He was vague in everything but his beliefs, which he subjected me to on a constant basis. He thought it important to badger me about the sacred scriptures and purifying the island 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I loved my job. I truly did. There was something magical about hope, and what it could do to one's soul. There was hope for me, and in the Harvest Goddess, I found it. I was happy to oblige to her will, because I believed in her, and I believed it was right.

There was only so much I could take, though. I was essentially a nun at twenty-three years old. It was challenging to walk to the main island and see the other young people, my age, living a life of luxury and whimsy. Elliot and Julia, Denny and Lana, Sabrina and Vaughn. Even Charlie and Eliza, the youngest children in town, had much more fun than I did.

It was foolish to be jealous, and more than that, it was a sin. I was a mature girl; I didn't need material things to be happy. My faith in the Harvest Goddess provided that, and more for me.

However, there was something that she couldn't provide for me, and that was a family.

I had longed for a family since I was young, since I lost my own. There had always been a missing part of me, and I had tried to fill that with faith and devotion. Still, I missed a mother's touch, a father's encouragement, a sister's adoration. There was a strong maternal drive within me, and it was with a heavy heart that I repressed it. I could not go against my duty to the Church. More than that, I couldn't go against my duty to the Goddess.

Things changed when Mark moved in to town. He was determined to revitalize the islands, and to do it with the Goddess' help. I watched as he ventured out to Mystic Island, day after day, to kneel and pray for her guidance.

It took me a while to get up the nerve to talk to him. Of course, I did so outside of Church, because it would be irreverent to strike up chitchat in a house of worship. I was surprised at his geniality and his genuine respect for the island. He seemed to be in awe.

His visits became something of an excitement to me. I looked forward to seeing him each day, and soon it was like clockwork. Sometimes he would bring along a little trinket, some jewelry, a pretty ore that he found whilst mining. He was my peephole to the rest of the world. I saw what I couldn't see by myself through him.

His smile lit up the room and even the sunlight that leaked in through the windows could not compare. His laugh was more dazzling than the bells that Nathan tolled each morning. He seemed to care about my opinions and beliefs, even when I was not sure of where I stood in life. Before long, I found myself thinking of him more than I should. I was neglecting my tasks, and I was neglecting the Goddess.

As guilty as I felt, I could not make myself stop. It was almost embarrassing, the secret I kept pushed inside. No one could ever know. My place was in the Church. It was a forbidden emotion. But oh, I was addicted to him.

This wasn't healthy. I knew it, and I could see it in Nathan's sideways glances at me. He warned me not to stray from the holy path, and I knew what I had to do. When Mark came by the next day, I feigned illness (just a small lie – I was heartsick) and locked myself up in my room. He still came by every day, but I found reason to leave for a while when he was there. I found solace by the Goddess' Pond.

His visits became less frequent, and soon they stopped completely. I cried.

Out of the blue one day, he reappeared. He caught me off guard when he approached me from behind at the Goddess' Pond. I forced a smile. He frowned at me, like all of a sudden he couldn't figure me out. As I opened my mouth, feeling like I owed him an explanation, he shook his head and cut me off.

I watched in awe as he reached into his backpack. I expected him to pull out something that he had gathered in the woods on the way here, maybe a heart-shaped herb or a leaf. This was the nature of his findings. What he emerged with in reality made my knees buckle underneath me.

In his hand, he held a blue feather.

In that instant, I had a choice to make.

I made the wrong one.

I couldn't bear to look him in the eye as I told him I couldn't accept the feather, and thus the marriage proposal. I confessed to some degree my feelings for him, and said it would be a lie if I told him that I didn't want to marry him. But my home was the Church. I looked in time to see hurt and confusion, maybe anger, mixed in on his face.

He didn't come back to the island after that.

A year later, I watched from the sidelines as his bride, Julia, walked down the aisle, beaming at Mark as he waited with Nathan by the altar. He kissed her to seal their vow, and my heart broke.

Now, as Julia and Mark's children run around the island, which he has been faithful to all these years, I sit alone in my pew. The statue of the Goddess smiles down on me, but I cannot bring myself to smile back.

I loved him.

I lost him.