Chapter One:

Festival of Happiness, Bearer of Sorrow

Caleb's eyes slowly flickered open as he lay on his bed. The room was dull and hazy; the window was not letting sunlight in, but the sight of clouds and drizzle. The very atmosphere of the house was sleepy; it was all he could do to keep himself from falling asleep again. In a drowsy attempt to get to his feet, the groggy Valean sat up on the edge of his bed. Rubbing his eyes, Caleb sighed sleepily. "What a way to start the Festival," he groaned, getting up to his wash basin.

Cupping the water in his hands, Caleb splashed it into his eyes several times, trying to truly wake himself up. Reaching for his towel, he rubbed his face dry, then threw the cloth into the floor and went to his wardrobe.

After ripping off the undershirt he wore to bed, he put on a new one, as well as a loose-fitting red tunic over it. After some groping around in his closet, he finally pulled free his brown denim pants. After even more digging, he pulled out his socks. I guess Sis is right, he thought. I probably do need to clean out the ol' closet. But it can wait 'til the festival ends, I think.

Returning to his wash basin, Caleb took one look at himself in the mirror. His muscles were rather defined in his tunic; that had been the idea behind him wearing it. His dirty blond hair was sticking out in every possible direction, almost to the point that there was no point in combing it. Sighing, Caleb put his hand in the basin, cupped out some water, and rubbed it in his hair. Picking up his comb, he did just a good enough job of taming it to reduce the number of spikes down to the three large ones he had instead of bangs. Looking at himself again, his reflection's bright blue eyes staring right back, he smiled with satisfaction. Those spikes were a sign of Isaac's blood; almost every Venus Adept in his line had them.

He was almost ready for the day. Returning to his bed, he picked up an old, ripped glove made from black leather that lay on his nightstand. Sliding the ragged protection on his right hand, Caleb felt totally dressed now, minus his boots. The glove's only purpose was to help him hold a machete when he did chores, but he'd grown so accustomed to wearing it, he felt naked if he didn't have it on.

Now that he felt a bit better, Caleb left his room, picking up his scarred leather boots on the way out. Taking light steps down the stairs, he stopped only when he reached the kitchen. Taking a seat in one of the oak chairs by the table, he put on the heavy shoes, looking up only when Sarah came down from her room.

Sarah wasn't wearing anything festive, like she normally did during the festival. Rather, she was wearing her everyday clothing; a maroon and black, sleeveless shirt that formed to her figure somewhat, and a white skirt that came to her knees. She wore shiny black boots that stopped just below her kneecap; together with her dress, they kept the great number of perverts that came to Vale this time of year from looking at her legs. Her maroon hair was, as always, neatly combed and straightened. She had a grin on her face, but she always did this time of year.

"Somebody's in a good mood this morning," Caleb chuckled.

Sarah outright laughed in reply. "What's not to be happy about? I mean, sure, it's raining outside, but it's the Festival! This is the best time of year!" she said gleefully.

Caleb nodded in agreement, but somehow, he wasn't totally certain of that. Something was conspicuously absent from the house this morning. "Where's Dad at?" he asked, suddenly changing to a more serious, concerned tone.

Sarah looked at him with exasperation. "He's helping set up the Lighthouse for all the festivities," she said dully. "Almost everyone is. Gosh, Caleb, where in Weyard did you drop your brain off at?!"

Caleb didn't feel insulted; he just disregarded the comment with an explanation. "Last night, before I went to sleep, I heard him talking to somebody down here." Sarah's eyes widened. "I couldn't pick up much of what they were saying, but Dad didn't seem want to talk to him much at all. I'm just a little worried."

Sarah pulled out a chair and sat beside him. "I'm sure it was just a weirdo from out of town or something. You know how they are," she said reassuringly, stroking her hand through Caleb's spiky locks. Caleb simply turned his head to the side, looking out the window.

"Rain's picking up. I bet the street is pure mud by now," he said, trying to change the subject. Sarah nodded. Standing up, he started towards the door. "You wanna go do something?"

Sarah got to her feet. "If you can find something to do," she said dryly. "Everyone's helping at the Lighthouse. We could go up there, but..." her voice trailed off.

"We'd have to help, and that'd kill us out for the party," he finished. It was well known that the second day of the Festival was always the busiest. Most everybody who helped out on the first day was too tired to stay long, if they even stayed for the festivities at all.

"Right," Sarah said. "What is there to do, anyways? It's raining, so we can't go to the field, and the inn's too crowded to hang out there..."

"Then we just hang around here," Caleb finally said, rubbing his stomach. "Besides, I just got hungry. You want something to eat?" he asked. Sarah shook her head. "Suit yourself." With that, he opened the cupboard and pulled out a jar full of jelly and a loaf of bread. Cutting off a few large slices of bread, he looked back at Sarah.

He didn't have to say anything. Sarah just sighed, walked over to him, and picked up the bread. Channeling Psynergy through her hands and into the bread, she made it into toast in a few moments. Giving back the toast to her brother, she said sarcastically, "Your meal, O Great One."

Caleb laughed. "Thanks," he replied, genuine in his saying it. He took the bread knife and smeared some jelly on the bread, then put what remained of the loaf and the jelly jar back into the cupboard again. "You sure you don't want anything?" he asked again.

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not really hungry, Caleb. Really. I dunno, I guess I'm too excited to eat," she yawned. "Either that, or I'm just not ready to eat. I think I could've used a little more sleep than what I got." Caleb had to agree with her as he yawned afterwards.

"We could always just catch a little nap," he suggested. Sarah, who was yawning again, had to agree with him. Following Caleb's quick snack, the two of them then went upstairs, into their own rooms, and fell asleep.

Caleb awoke to the sound of voices. Faint voices, coming from downstairs. He couldn't understand them over the rain, which had grown from a drizzle to a full-fledged storm in his sleep, but he could pick out each individual voice.

One of them belonged to Mitchell, his father. He had apparently returned from the Lighthouse sometime during his nap, which made him wonder how long he'd really been asleep. His voice was usually full of cheer; now, it was in a tone of frustration, bordering on aggression. The very thought of his old man getting angry shocked Caleb.

Another of the voices belonged to Sarah. Much like their father's, hers was full of emotion; in her case, worry. Getting up quickly, somewhat panicked by the strange turn of events, Caleb stopped cold when the third voice came in.

It was identical to the voice he'd heard speaking with his dad the night before. It was cool, relaxed...and somehow, it was the most unnerving thing he'd ever heard. Breaking into a full-fledged run, he rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hiding behind the table, staying quiet as a grave, he decided it was best to eavesdrop before he showed himself in the den with the rest of them.

"...asleep. He's been like that since this morning," Sarah said.

"I don't care. When he wakes up, I want to see him," the mystery voice retorted.

Me? Why the heck does he wanna see me?! Caleb thought, a feeling of cold growing in the pit of his stomach.

"You have no business seeing my son, Sir!" Mitchell yelled, furious. "You have no business with any of us, for that matter! Now, for the last time, get out of my house!" he screamed.

"Tch. So be it. You don't know how foolish you are, though," the enigma's voice spat. A few moments later, the door slammed. Caleb was absolutely horrified. Keep it together, ol' boy. It's just some nut from Lunpa or somewhere, he told himself. His concentration was broken when Mitchell's voice came into the room.

"Come on, Caleb. You can get out of the kitchen now," he said blatantly. It didn't surprise the young Valean that his father knew he was there; he was ready to face the consequences for his eavesdropping.

Walking out into the den, he looked at Mitchell with a panicked gaze. Mitchell was not from Isaac's bloodline, nor was he a Venus Adept. His black hair was slicked back, although one of his bangs had fallen loose, presumably from his working at the Lighthouse. He wore a white, stained undershirt; his tunic was laying on the chair beside him. His pants were exactly like Caleb's, and if it weren't for the many scars on them, his boots would be, too.

Looking into his son's eyes, Mitchell asked calmly, "How much did you hear?"

"Just a little bit. He left after a few sentences." Caleb was hastily spitting out the words.

"Whoa now, Caleb, calm down!" his father said, placing his hand firmly on his son's shoulder. "It's nothing to get worked up over. He's just some idiot from out of town, probably heard about you when he came in and decided to pull a stupid prank. Nothing to be worried about."

Caleb nodded feebly, slowly releasing the tension he'd felt for the last few minutes. "What time is it?" he asked, wanting desperately to take his mind off the "stupid prank".

"Time for you and Sarah to head up to the Lighthouse. The Festival won't start for another couple hours, but everything is prepped and ready. I think now would be the best time to go if I were you," Mitchell replied, returning to his calm, normal self.

Sarah nodded. Grabbing her brother's hand, she yanked him right out of his father's grip and dragged him to the door. "Wait, Sis!" Caleb protested. "I don't have my cloak! I can't get wet, can I?"

Sarah stopped. "Oh, yeah, that's right," she said happily. It was like the encounter with the stranger only minutes before was totally forgotten. She ran upstairs for a moment, then returned with two hooded cloaks. Throwing the bigger of them to Caleb, she put her own on in mid-step.

Caleb put his on, then opened the door. "Ladies first," he joked, swinging his arm at the ground and bowing as Sarah left. As soon as she was outside, he looked at Mitchell. "See ya, Dad." With that, he closed the door and stepped into the street.

Outside, the rain was coming down at a fairly heavy rate; it had turned the street into nothing but a brown slimy path, just as Caleb had predicted that morning. A few scattered footprints were here and there, filled with muddy water, and a single wagon trail passed in the muck. On a good year for the Festival, the street would still be filled with people at this time; in light of the recent sieges across Weyard, though, the twins were the only persons present.

Sarah's perky attitude suddenly dropped down to a simple feeling of cheer when she saw the emptiness. "Caleb," she whispered, despite the lack of eavesdroppers, "do you remember the Festival the year Mom died?"

Caleb's recovering happiness suddenly stopped dead in its tracks. "Sarah...why do you ask? That was a horrible year...I don't want to think about it," he muttered, glaring at Sarah as he said the last words.

That didn't stop her from continuing. "It's just...that year, every town in Weyard had someone here. The streets were always full for the entire Festival with people coming in...but now, it's like a ghost town..." she murmured, hanging her head.

"Sarah...don't cry. Please, for the love of all that's holy, don't cry!" Caleb heard himself squeak out the last few words. He had only seen Sarah cry once, immediately after their mother passed away eight years ago, and it scarred him for life. If any girl started to cry around him now, he would do anything to stop them, mostly because he'd start crying with them. "Ugh, Sis, listen...listen to me, Sis..." he prodded, but it was to no avail. Right there, in the middle of the streets, she just broke down and started sobbing. A few seconds later, so did Caleb.

With a reddened face, Caleb tried to cheer up the mood. Lifting his sister's head with his gloved hand, he smiled into her tear-filled eyes. "Now, listen to me," he sobbed, "you said it yourself. This is a time for happiness. We shouldn't be crying. Mom wouldn't want it. Now come on," he stood up, "let's go."

Sarah wiped the water from her eyes, then took his extended hand and stood back up. As soon as the two turned around, however, they stopped immediately.

A man in a cloak that covered his entire body stood in front of them, his face covered by the shadow of the hood. Only his mouth was visible; it was cocked into a creepy half-smile. "Well, this is a teary little moment. I'm all choked up," he sneered.

Sarah immediately grew tense. "Caleb, that's the guy," she whispered. "That's the man who wanted to know where you were."

Caleb felt his stomach wrench. That's the guy?! he thought, a great terror seizing him. Trying to act undaunted, Caleb returned as strong a reply as he could muster. "What's the matter with you? Acting like that in front of a lady!"

"Shut it, Caleb. I know damn well you know who I am," the enigma retorted coldly. "Or, at least...you know what I want." His mouth curled into a twisted grin. "Now, whatsay we just cut the crap and get down to business?"

Caleb's heart raced, his fear growing with every passing second. "Who-who are you?" he spat quickly, stepping between the shady figure and Sarah in an instinctive reaction to protect her. "Why do you want to see me so badly?"

The cloaked man lifted his hand out of the side of his garb, exposing a strong, muscular arm. In his fingers, he gently flipped around a small, purple gem. It was no larger than an amethyst, and if it wasn't for the aura surrounding it, it could've very easily have been passed off as one.

A Psynergy Stone?! What in blazes is going on here?! his thoughts echoed as he entered a defensive stance. Extending his hand forwards, he yelled defiantly, "I don't know what you plan on doing, but I warn you, I will fight if you so much as take a step towards us!"

"A step, eh? If you're so determined to protect yourself, let's say I get about a..." the mystery man's smile expanded into a manic grin. "Stone's throw away!" he shrieked, slinging the Alchemical gemstone directly at Caleb. In retaliation, Caleb screamed out the name of the first Psynergy that came to his mind.

"Earthquake!" he cried. It wasn't an Earthquake that was unleashed, though. The Stone had hit him in the hand as soon as the Psynergy left him. In an instant, his power skyrocketed; the Earthquake transformed into a highly focused bolt of sword-like energy right in front of him. Ragnarok! That isn't supposed to happen! Last time a Stone was near me and I did that, it was a Quake Sphere! Gods above, what is wrong with me?!

The sword crashed into the street, throwing up mud and slime with its explosion. Looking through the flash of light with wonder and fear, Caleb saw his stalker had vanished. His hand burning with the overwhelming power that had suddenly taken him, he tore off the glove and blew on it repeatedly, trying to ease the pain. After a few moments, when the discomfort had become tolerable, he slipped his hand into the glove again. "Did I kill him?" he asked Sarah.

Sarah shook her head, still awestruck and frightened by the events that had just unfolded. "I don't think so," she said hesitantly. "He disappeared right before the attack hit."

Caleb felt a strange mix of relief and a greater horror. He hadn't killed a man, that was always a blessing, but this one might've been better off dead. Whatever the case, he knew what they had to do. "Come on, we've gotta get to the Lighthouse," he ordered, his emotions guiding his speech. "If anywhere, we'll be safe from that freak there."

Taking her brother's words to heart, Sarah ran ahead, Caleb fast on her heels. They knew that the strange explosion of power in the streets would bring about questions. They knew that as long as the Festival continued, and possibly afterwards, the obsessive enigma would haunt them. They didn't care. They just needed to feel safe.

Behind them, shielded from their vision by their own haste to look ahead to the Lighthouse, a lone figure came from the other side of one of the neighboring houses. He walked out into the street, his cloak hiding his identity. Standing near the very spot where Caleb's Psynergy had grown exponentially, he knelt to search for something. A moment later, he pulled out a small, gray stone from the mud. It had once been a Psynergy Stone, but now it was little more than a loose collection of dust. Crushing it in his hand, a wicked smile seized his face.

"So, you're the kid I'm looking for? Caleb...you have no idea how much finding you has pleased me. If only you could live to see it. Ah well. It's not my fault that in the festival of happiness, a bearer of sorrow must visit."