[Notes:]
You know that joke about how the alternate title for the game "God of War" is really "Dad of Boy"? Yeah, this is more or less the Golden Sun version of that, lol.
How goes it, folks? Oh my goodness, it's been years since I posted anything! I see FFN fixed the editor again (sort of). I told myself I'd finish the next story before posting it. Well, spoiler alert: I'm breaking that rule here. I only have about a third completed for this one. At minimum, this will be six or seven key chapters (much longer than this first one), cross-posted between FFN and AO3. I'm still deciding if I want to include the in-between content, or have a spin-off collection of bonus chapters.
I'm not counting this as an AU. Speculative fix-it/what-if, yes, with some artistic license in places, but it should for the most part still fit within the known GS story. (Now watch me jinx myself when a new game is finally announced, and all of this gets thrown out the window as not canon-compliant.)
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Chapter 1
A Lucky Child
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Amiti knew he was a lucky child.
For one, he was the nephew of a king, and heir presumptive to the throne. He knew he was very fortunate indeed for that much already. King Paithos made sure Amiti appreciated that status and did not take it for granted, even at five years of age.
But more lucky than that, in his child mind, was that Amiti had a guardian. It was a constant presence, something that was always near but always just out of sight. A curtain that moved without a breeze. A shadow that briefly seemed too full. Blue sparkles of light dancing in an alley when he turned. It always watched over him. Looking back many years later, perhaps it should have been unnerving for the young prince, perhaps even scary. But for whatever reason… it simply wasn't.
Amiti didn't know when the presence had started, about as much as he didn't remember when he had started breathing. Maybe it had been there just as long. He commented on it only once to a couple of his nannies. They giggled something about imaginary friends, that it was cute, that it was a phase, and he was frustrated enough by it to never mention it again. The presence wasn't imaginary, Amiti was sure of that much. He didn't need to see it to know it was real.
There were times when the child went so far as to try talking to it. He asked questions to the air when he played alone. It never responded, but he didn't mind. Perhaps it simply didn't know what to say its favorite color was. He'd chatter away in a one-sided conversation, but he was sure the presence was listening.
Sometimes, however, the presence would go away. Again, Amiti didn't know how he knew. Somehow, he simply felt more… alone. As he grew older, that aloneness became more frequent. A part of Amiti worried it was going to leave him entirely. He tried to ask it where it was going. He wasn't surprised when it didn't answer. That didn't mean the silence didn't hurt a little, though.
One time, he heard another child telling ghost stories. Could his presence be that of a ghost? He dismissed that with his full five-year-old authority. Ghosts were scary, but they weren't real. That was just silly! Besides, if they were somehow real, why would a ghost care about him?
A few times, he heard the maids gossiping about spirits in the palace. Maybe that's what his presence was? A spirit would definitely be far less scary than a ghost. And his uncle was always telling Amiti that his mother was watching over him. But when Amiti asked if his mother was a spirit, his uncle thought for a moment, then said she was similar, but no. His mother's spirit watched over Amiti as his guardian angel.
Grown-ups were so weird.
Well, if it wasn't a spirit, and it wasn't his mother, and it certainly wasn't a ghost or an imaginary friend, he wasn't sure what else his presence could be! Maybe it didn't matter what it was. When it was there, it was his.
Then came the night when Amiti was stolen from his bed. That was when he learned his presence was very much alive.
And it was very unhappy.