Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun. It belongs to Nintendo and Camelot.
This is just an idea I had one day that I decided to finish the other night. Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.
Once upon a time, the people of Lalivero lived in fear. Long before Babi came along and bugged them with his lighthouse project, the Laliverans were subjugated by an evil witch. She was a Venus Adept of considerable power, and she ruled by fear. All the people of Lalivero had to revere her and pay her tribute. Lalivero was a relatively poor area, and the people had enough trouble staying alive without giving their crops and other goods to this witch. However, the witch had the power to make the earth barren, so the Laliverans were resigned to obey the witch.
One dusty day in the middle of the drought season, everything changed. The day started out as usual, with everyone going about their daily routines. The farmers went to the fields, the smiths got to work repairing tools and weapons, the women began their household tasks. Faran, the leader of the village, had to take the witch her tribute. Kissing his wife good-bye, he shouldered the packs of food and trinkets that the villagers had prepared.
Will this never end? Faran thought to himself as he walked to the witch's house, which was a few miles outside of Lalivero. He coughed as the wind blew dust into his face. The drought... He sighed. We can't go on like this. Finally, Faran reached the witch's house. He wiped his brow on his sleeve and sipped some water from his canteen to soothe his dusty throat, then knocked timidly at the witch's door.
"Come in!" croaked a voice. Faran sighed and entered. Inside the witch's house was dark, for which Faran was grateful. The crone was not a pretty sight to see. Faran set down the packs and began unpacking them. The witch watched his efforts, and when he was done, she fixed him with a stern look. "This is even less than last time," the witch snapped. "I told you before, I will not tolerate disrespect."
"Your greatness," Faran said, falling to his knees. "We mean no disrespect. It's the drought. The crops aren't growing. If we gave any more, people would starve."
"Excuses!" she barked. Faran winced, then spoke up again. He had nothing to lose.
"Please, if you were to use your powers, you could make the plants grow in spite of the drought. Everyone would have more than enough to eat."
"And why should I care if you worms starve?" The witch stood and glared at Faran. "I think you all are forgetting your place. I think a lesson is in order, a lesson on what your place is." The witch gripped Faran by his shirt and used her powers to transport them to the entrance of Lalivero.
"Attention, Laliverans!" screeched the witch. "Call everyone into the square. I have an announcement to make."
Everyone hastened to obey the witch. Mothers sent their older children to the fields to fetch back the men who worked there. The townspeople still in the village gathered in the center of the village.
The witch stood in front of the stone obelisk in the town square, still holding Faran. With her earth powers, she summoned thorny vines from the dry ground to bind Faran to the obelisk. He couldn't help crying out sharply as the vines cut into his skin.
Time seemed to pass slowly for Faran as everyone waited for the last of the villagers to arrive. Sweat collected on his forehead, and he could not move his hand to wipe it away. His eyes rested mainly on his wife, who stood in the crowd, trying hard not to cry. They both knew that the witch could be merciless and Faran feared for what would happen to him.
Finally, the entire village was assembled. The witch surveyed the frightened group, then began to speak. "I have always been kind to you," the witch said. "I have been merciful, allowing you to live in the shadow of my generosity. Nevertheless, it seems that some have forgotten this. They take my benevolence for granted." Faran wanted to laugh. Benevolence? He knew better than to give in to his whim, though. Even if the witch didn't intend to kill him, he knew that laughing at her would spur her to greater cruelty.
The witch continued her speech. "Because of your ingratitude, I shall have to teach you a lesson." She turned to Faran. Ropes of briars pushed out of the ground and lashed out at him. Using her powers, the witch whipped Faran for a few minutes before turning back to the terrified village people.
"Now you see what I spare you from. Never let your obedience waver again." The witch grinned, a hideous sight which showed almost every one of her rotting teeth. "I'll just leave you with a little to think on." The witch faced Faran again, presumably intending to slap him around some more.
"What's that?" exclaimed someone in the crowd.
The witch whirled around. "Silence! I will not tolerate disrespect!"
"There's something in the sky!" another person shouted.
The witch had had enough. Gnashing her teeth, she stepped away from Faran and stalked into the crowd. The villagers backed away from her, most of them keeping their eyes trained on the sky, following the rapid downward progress of a large, squarish object.
"Enough!" the witch screeched. She stretched her hands out and the earth began to tremble with the beginnings of a Gaia spell. Her casting was cut short, however, when a small house dropped out of the sky, right onto her head.
There was a good minute of silence as the Laliverans tried to make sense of this strange event.
"Could someone cut me out?" Faran was the first to speak. His wife and two men rushed to his aid. Once Faran was free, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away some blood that was running down his face. Then he assumed his role as leader. "Let's get that house moved and see what happened to her. Josiah, Edu, you two are in charge of that. Rachel," he addressed his wife, "come inside with me and we'll see what we can find."
The house was devastated by its fall, and while Josiah and Edu went to organize an effort to move it out of the town square, Faran and Rachel cautiously crept through the door frame, avoiding the splintered door that hung crazily on its hinges. The floorboards were cracked and splintered as well, and Faran went first, moving cautiously into the main room, finding the safest path for his wife to follow. Once inside, they heard a strange sound.
Rachel looked at her husband. "Faran, that sounds like..."
Faran nodded. "I don't know how it could be, but you're right. That does sound like a baby."
With renewed haste, the couple picked their way through the rooms of the house, avoiding a toppled, but thankfully unlit, stove in one room and a large pile of books in another. All the time, they moved towards the wailing. In the back room of the house was where they found the cradle.
"Oh!" Rachel's hands flew to her mouth as she peered at the child. "Poor thing! She's lucky to be alive." Laying in the cradle was a babe, a small thing with wide green eyes and a feathering of blonde hair.
Faran scratched at his thatch of blond hair. "We might as well take the child to our home until we can locate her parents."
Rachel nodded and lifted the child from the cradle. The baby's wails subsided as Rachel held her close, making soothing whispers.
While Rachel took the babe home to care for it, Faran organized the removal of the house to outside the city walls. In the process, the personal belongings from the house were removed. Faran and several others inspected these things, hoping to find a clue as to the identity of the owners. One piece of jewelry had an inscription: "To Dora, the most beautiful bride in all the world." However, it would take more than a first name to locate the owner, and unfortunately enough, that first name was all that the Laliverans had to go on when all was said and done.
It was decided that Faran and Rachel would keep the child. Really, Rachel simply would not give the baby up. The child was called Sheba, meaning "gift of the gods" in the ancient tongue of the area. It was a fitting name, for when the house was moved, it had been revealed that the witch who had menaced the town was now little more than a disgusting smear on the ground. Sheba, the villagers decided, had been sent by the gods to deliver them from the witch. Thus, for the next fourteen years, they treated Sheba with all due reverence, thanking the gods for their gift.
Meanwhile, back in Vale, Kyle and Dora found a competent psychiatrist who, after many extensive and expensive sessions, managed to convince Isaac that his little sister Veronica was merely a figment of his imagination.
The end.
