Title:

Duststorm

Chapter:

1: Home

Summary:

A series of encounters between Isaac and Sheba. Excerpt from Chapter 1: "A home is the place you can go back to, no matter what."

Disclaimer:

Golden Sun does not belong to me; I am merely someone who enjoys both reading and writing fanfiction.


Find a way to lie
About a home I'll never see
- Five For Fighting, It's Not Easy To Be Me (Superman)


She had taken to wandering the streets of Tolbi in the late evening, being careful enough to sneak out of the Tolbi mansion – it was easy to do so now that the grand Colosso event was being held at the Arena and most of the guards were busy placing bets and commenting on the general status of the competition.

Tolbi itself was a busy city on a normal day; with the Colosso and the festivals, it felt as though the city was simply bursting with people. Rows and rows of shops and stalls that were hastily erected for the carnival that accompanied the annual competition were thronged with the many tourists that came from halfway across the continent. Even the inns and taverns were packed with people, a rare occurrence for a city the size of Tolbi.

She enjoyed taking walks even though it meant fighting her way through the crowd mainly because she enjoyed watching people (and reading their minds, to a certain extent). Considering herself an acute observer, she could just stroll by the busy streets, watching people, drawing conclusions before confirming her judgment with a brief look inside her targets' heads. That was her sole choice of entertainment nowadays, for she was practically locked up in the tiny room Lord Babi prepared for her ostensibly as an honored guest but in reality as a hostage.

Today was the finals for the Colosso, and there seemed to be more people than ever, jamming the wide streets that lead up to the Arena. Not an avid fan of violence herself, she had no interest at all in the bloody fights that the competitors had to engage in, and she would have preferred to avoid the Arena totally if not for the fact that one of the finalists attracted a sliver of interest of her.

His name was Isaac and he was a boy just a few years older than her. He certainly wasn't made of imposing stuff, and when compared to the other competitors, he looked puny, to say the least. His dark blond hair that spiked in various angles made him look as though he had just woken up, and his cerulean blue eyes carried a certain air of innocence that gave him a boyish appeal.

When she first saw him, she was almost sure that he would be a first round casualty (in fact, many thought so as well), but when he defeated the aggressive Agart and the skilful Satrage, he went from underdog to potential champion in a day. She was impressed. His deft swordsmanship which was augmented by the fancy little tricks she swore she saw was more than enough to level the playing field; he was more than a match for the muscle-bound warriors and their brute strength.

The sun was at its zenith, and it was under its withering glare that the competition was about to begin. She slipped in the Arena (the guards being too interested in watching the competition than to actually carry out their duties), and soon made her way through the stands. A shrill whistle blew and the competition was soon underway. The obstacle course proved to be of no challenge to either of the competitors, and both reached the coliseum within minutes of each other, with Isaac coming in first.

He chose the massive claymore, and then, the battle begun in earnest. The two combatants circled each other around the ring, their eyes trained at each other. Being skilled swordsmen, both knew that the slightest mistake could mean life and death, victory and defeat. The tension between the two was palpable, and she could almost feel the intensity radiating from the ring.

A feint.

No takers.

More feints, a couple of blows, but nothing serious.

Then Isaac decided to go on the offensive, his blade testing his opponent's defenses from all angles. His sword was like a deadly snake, attacking his opponent from everywhere. His slighter build made him faster, but the bigger man was stronger, and parried away the attacks easily. Her violet eyes were trained on the younger man, and she could see the determination in them.

The willful gaze of the blue eyes took her back the night before, when she found out that Isaac and his friends were guests to Lord Babi, and that they wined and dined together. After the uneventful dinner, she retired to the balcony, hoping to get some fresh air, and was pleasantly surprised to find the young man staring away at the moon, leaning disconsolately against the balcony.

"Do you ever feel homesick?" he asked aloud, his gaze still trained on the far side of the moon.

"Me?" she asked, though she knew no one else was around. When he nodded and she realized that he was still waiting for an answer, she replied blandly, "I don't have a home to feel homesick for."

"That's sad. Everyone should have a home."

"I don't think I've missed out on anything, though. I mean, a home is just a place where you stay. There's nothing else there is to it, I think."

He turned to her, his eyes staring deep into hers. He was smiling wistfully, with a naked longing clearly visible on his boyish face. "A home is more than that. A home is warm and loving, full of care and joy. A home is the place you can go back to, no matter what. Your family will be waiting patiently for you to come back, and they will always welcome you with love. Simply put, home is where the heart is. Don't you have some place like that?"

She averted her eyes, choosing not to answer the question but instead asked, "If you've such a place, why are you here, so far away from wherever you call home?"

His eyes hardened with a determined look and his raised a hand, catching the stray moonbeams that fell lightly onto his gloved palm. "Well," he said while smiling ruefully, "I'm here, so far away from Vale, risking my all to protect that very place I call home. See, I made a promise with my mother. I told her I would not come back until I made sure Vale is safe once more." His hand clenched tightly. "And I fully intend to keep that promise."

He smiled lightly at her before saying, "Ahh…I've probably bored you with my ramblings." He scratched the back of his head and laughed a little self consciously. "It's getting late, and I've better turn in for the night. I've a big day tomorrow, and I better be prepared for it. Wish me luck?"

She looked at him and forced a smile. "Good night and good luck. I'm staying here for a while before I turn in."

"Good night, Miss Sheba."

She continued leaning against the polished balcony, all the while staring aimlessly into the night. "For a place called home…?" she whispered to no one, as she watched the full moon hide beneath wafting clouds.

"For a place called home, huh?" she whispered again to no one, this time as she watched him danced the dance of death with his sword, elegant and graceful, against his formidable opponent.

They were at a stalemate; his light, swift strikes were rendered ineffective against his opponent's massive defense, while his opponent, kept busy defending, had little to no chance of being on the offense. This went on for some time, until Isaac begin to tire out. His sword arm faltered a little, and it was all that the larger opponent needed to break free of the containment the wiry fighter had launched.

Suddenly taking the offensive, the large man let out a roar and started swinging his massive sword wildly. All Isaac could do was to dodge, and even then, it looked like his fatigue would catch up on him. Her hands instinctively dug into her cheeks as Isaac dodged blow after blow, a little slower, the blade whisking a little closer each time.

Finally, Isaac fell onto one knee, breathing hard, as he rested his weight on his sword, apparently too tired to continue. His opponent eyed him, eyed the chance and decided to finish the battle there and then – and fell right into the ruse Isaac laid for him. The nimble fighter rolled out of the way and somersaulted backward while slashing vertically at the mountain of a man in front of him, drawing a wound from the belly to the chest. Blood gurgled out of the large warrior's mouth, and he crumpled into the ground. All around, the crowd stilled into a silence before breaking into a large roar.

"And the champion of this year's Colosso is…ISAAC…from VALE!!!"

She caught his eye and gave him a smile and a 'thumbs up'. A while later, the champion collapsed in exhaustion and was immediately mobbed by his friends. An exasperated smile made its way on her face, for she knew that it was just like him to overexert himself, before she turned to leave the Arena.

"Home is where the heart is, huh, Isaac?"

Perhaps rather than just being lost without a home, it was time for her to find her own place she could call home. And for that, she needed –

" – to go back to Lalivero, Lord Babi."


Author's Notes:

This is actually my first foray into the realm of not-oneshots, so do tell me if there's anything I should improve. Enjoy reading! On a side note, I have no clue what this pairing is called. Any ideas?