The Golden Sun One-Shot Panoply

By: I'm not listing them! Someone get me a hammer!

Now…this is the chapter that was so large it didn't fit in one chapter. So it became two. I hope you enjoy them both very, very, really really lots.

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Forge A Hero: Fire and Hammer

By: Feonyx

            "Up!" his mother shouted through the door.  She hammered a few more times.  "I don't have time for this!  Get up already!"

            "It's cold out there," he protested.

            "That's no reason to stay in bed!  If you're cold, you should be using some of that Psynergy you never practice!" she shot back.  "Honestly, you spend all your time playing with swords and those other barbaric weapons, never bothering to use your head, and now you say you're too cold!?"  The door slammed open, she walked in, whipped the blankets off his bed, and marched out again.

            "So much for not having time for it," Saturos grumbled, curling his legs closer to his body.  Elders thought they had a difficult life trying to oversee the Mars Clan?  They should try being twelve for a while.  With his mother.  In winter, in the village of Prox, northernmost of all the settlements of Weyard.

            And it wasn't his fault that he wasn't as good with Psynergy as some of the others his age, he reflected as he grabbed some carpet-thick socks from a drawer.  No one complained that he couldn't copy animal sounds like Gerhalt, or make a kite out of anything available in the room like he had seen Myrilia do on more than one bored afternoon, or read Old Proxan like Karst.  So why should he be as good with Psynergy as Agatio or Menardi?

            Besides, steel had caught his attention from the beginning.  Some of the old warriors talked for ages about the play of light on a well-forged blade, or the way it could feel like an extension of your body.  Saturos mostly liked the sound of air being cut and metal clashing.  They could be as fancy as they liked, but real combat -as real as practice ever got- was the most fun he ever had.

            School was just for show, everyone knew.  It was all the elders ever talked about these days- the Lighthouse had been extinguished for too long, the north was growing too cold even for Mars Adepts, and someone had to fix it.  If the once-warm north could freeze so terribly, the events across the rest of the world had to be even worse.

            But it wasn't as though the entire clan could simply leave the Lighthouse of Mars unguarded.  A group of adventurers would have to be chosen, to go on a quest to find the Elemental Stars and light the four Lighthouses once more.  There were still several years left before the elders thought the situation would be critical, which meant that Saturos and his friends had just enough time to prove they would be worth it.         Saturos intended to be the greatest fighter Prox had ever seen, so that no monster would ever pose a threat to the Proxan heroes.

            There was no one around, of course, the door was closed and his mother was probably in the kitchen anyway.  Saturos grabbed his practice sabre and began a rhythmic routine of strike and block, twisting and turning.  He had plenty of space in his room, luckily, and needed to warm up anyway.

            Weaver's Slash, third and fourth, thought Saturos, effortlessly disarming his coathanger.  He twisted, deflected an imagined strike at his lower leg, and then reversed the spin into the Devil's Spiral.  The villainry of his dressing gown was put to a swift end by a perfect Tornado Lance, run through both sleeves.

            Rising Fury, dive and burst, Bending Branch, dash and whip, he went on.  The room was quickly becoming a dangerous place to be an air molecule.  Flood comes low, cloud goes high, lightning strikes, your enemies-

            "Hi," said Menardi as the tip of Saturos' practice blade paused at the window.  He snapped out of the battle-trance and stood perfectly still for a moment, as though a chill had come through the glass and frozen him solid.  "Do you practice like this every morning?"

            "Usually with more clothes," he managed.

            "I think the shorts are quite nice.  I'm rather surprised that the fluffy bunnies aren't at least trying to kill each other, though."

            "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

            "Heading to class.  You're late, you know."

            "Then so are you," Saturos pointed out.

            "Yes, but at least I'm dressed.  Now are you going to just stand there threatening me with wood or get a move on?  Possibly after you get a shirt on," she added.

            "I'm going already," he growled.

            "Good," said Menardi, and flashed the sort of dimpled smile that would turn citrus into solid sugar.  Fortunately, after this long, Saturos was immune to its sickening effects, though he had a healthy respect for the reactions it could get out of parents.

            He was still putting on a second sweater when he stumbled out the door into the chilly air of late Proxan summer.  The lands around them still had a thin layer of snow, but Prox itself was a patch of green, thanks to the concentrated power of Mars in the village.  It didn't stop the wind, but it made life bearable.

            "Why are you late, anyway?  Eventually the teachers are going to start ignoring that blasted smile," he said.

            "I was practicing, like you.  I just have an idea of when to practice, and get up early for it, instead of becoming the bushi-okeru-shotsu."

            "I don't know what that means, but I do know you've been listening to your sister too much."

            "Not quite.  That's Izuman language.  From a long way east of here, and south."

            "Whatever."  She's right, though, he thought.  Maybe I could get up an hour or two earli- go to bed an hour or two later.  It's important, after all.  I'll just have to convince mom and dad…

            "Hello?  Saturos?" asked Menardi, shaking him by the shoulder.  "Honestly, I could have run past the village edge and come back to get you with a snowball by now.  Are you even awake?"

            "Stop pestering me.  What's with you this morning?" he asked, shaking her off.

            "At least I'm staying in this plane of existence," she countered.  Saturos didn't have anything to say to that, and so they walked in silence for a while, until the rest of their friends appeared, jogging down the street.

            "Where are you going?" Menardi demanded, glaring at her younger sister.  She glanced up and noticed Gerhalt, and the glare intensified.  "More likely, where are you taking everyone when they should be in class?"

            "Hey, don't start the fire until you check what you're burning," Gerhalt protested.  He was a year older than Saturos, but anyone who had seen Menardi practice Flare tried to keep her calm the rest of the time.  "There aren't any classes today.  All the teachers are gathering in the sanctum."

            "Really?  Why?" asked Saturos.  Karst rolled her eyes. 

            "He thinks they're picking people for that Alchemy thing," she replied, obviously not as obsessed.

            "Right now!?" Saturos yelped.  "Where?  We have to find out what's going on- I don't want to get left out!"  Karst shook her head and sighed, lamenting the existence of males.

            "I haven't seen Puelle today," Agatio added.  "Maybe he heard something we didn't."

            "He was a lot more fun before he finished training anyway," Myrilia muttered.  "Now he's always out on duty and stuff.  We never get attacked anyway."

            "It could be worse," Karst offered, trying to cheer up her friend.

            "How?"

            "He could be everywhere you go, completely inescapable, like Menardi."

            "Yeah, but at least Myri's an easier sister to deal with than you," Menardi retorted, giving Karst a light shove.  "I bet she never sewed all of Puelle's socks together into a scarf."

            "Oh, quiet," Karst grumbled.

            "Or decided that the meal he was preparing wasn't good enough and needed extra ingredients."

            "Chocolate sauce is good.  Soy sauce is good.  Chocolate soy sauce is a stroke of genius."

            "Where did the boys go?" asked Myrilia.  Noticing at last that Saturos, Gerhalt, and Agatio had vanished, Menardi looked around, and eventually caught sight of them sprinting toward the village's centre, where the sanctum stood.

            "I am so not surprised," Menardi decided.

            "What do you mean, it's locked?" Gerhalt asked.

            "It's only a few words, anyone can get it with practice," said Saturos, sarcastically.  "I mean the doors won't open.  They are barred on the other side.  People inside can keep us out, and have chosen to do so.  It's locked."  Gerhalt considered this for a moment.

            "Let me try," he said eventually, stepping up and grabbing hold of the door handle.

            "He still doesn't get it," Saturos remarked, and Agatio shook his head.

            "How about a window?" Menardi suggested, coming up behind them.  Gerhalt let go of the handle, which hadn't moved in the slightest, panting.

            "Maybe it isn't stuck," he admitted.

            "If you don't hurry up, I'm going to close this again," Myrilia called from around the corner of the building.  The Hall of Prox was the most impressive part of the village, for certain- a tall stone building nearly a hundred feet wide and more than twice that long, held strong by giant stone pillars and decorated with the history of the Mars Clan.  Every side had carven murals and lines of runes, and the pillars were more like cylindrical books than actual support.

            They found Myrilia propping a window open around the corner, and climbed through one by one.  "This window doesn't open," Agatio said as he watched Saturos scramble through.

            "Sure looks like it does," Myri replied.  "Come on."

            "I mean, I've tried it before.  It doesn't open."

            "If it didn't open, my arms wouldn't be getting tired from holding it like this.  In, already!"

            "How did you get it open?" he asked, finally relenting and climbing under the glass.

            "An undisturbed hour with a screwdriver two months ago.  Let's find the Great Healer."

            They walked as quietly as possible through the corridors that led from the meditation chamber with the open window to the main hall, though on solid stone even the slightest tap -and there were plenty- echoed for what seemed like hours.  Proxans were very adamant on the concept of locks, and being caught would not be a pleasant experience for any of them.

            Eventually the torch-lined passages ended, and they found themselves in the massive Arch Hall.  It filled two-thirds of the building, and was most notable for the stone arches that reached from the sides to the height of the ceiling.  Stands of torches lined the walls, and lanterns hung from the arches.

            At the far end, a large dish cut into the floor contained the Caldera.  It was a giant fire, ever bright, eternally burning with all the passion that Mars embodied.  Saturos liked the Caldera, and didn't mind paying to it the sort of strict respect that the elders demanded.  It was a constant in all their lives, a reminder that there was a Mars Spirit to protect them all.

            It reminded Saturos of the cathedrals of Angara that he had seen in books on occasion, and people were expected to act in much the same way, if they were allowed in at all.  So the children crept along the wall, behind pedestals and furniture, until they could see the people gathered near the Caldera more clearly, and hear what they said.

            "How is he?" asked the captain of the guards.  The Great Healer, bent over the altar before the Caldera, was examining a person -or possibly a body- who lay still there.  Eventually, he breathed out, managing to convey relaxation in the act.

            "Puelle shall survive," the Healer replied, and Myri stifled her cry when she realised her brother was the one on the altar.  "His injuries are treated as well as I am able."

            "Can he speak?  Can he tell us what happened?" asked one of the elders of Prox.

            "If you wish, I can try to strengthen him, but don't expect too much too quickly."  The captain nodded his assent, and the Healer raised a hand.  "Bright Glow."  Karst sucked in an amazed gasp as the Healer performed the most powerful of the Mars healing Psynergies.  Red and yellow shafts of light radiated from his palm, sweeping over Puelle several times.  Eventually his eyes fluttered open, but he could not manage to speak.

            "Here," said the Healer, raising a vessel of water to his lips, and after a few moments, Puelle's voice had recovered enough to speak.

            "The others," he wheezed.  "Where are they?  And where is Jacia?"

            The elder hesitated for a moment.  "Ordalos and Eletten are gone, Puelle.  They were too far gone when we found your patrol."  He paused for a moment.  "Jacia is missing.  We don't know what happened, Puelle.  Can you remember?"

            "…Gone…" he whispered.  "That… that monster… killed them both?"

            "A single monster?  What kind of catastrophe-" the elder began, but the Healer quieted him.

            "What sort of monster was it?" asked the captain, firmly but quietly.

            "Dragon…"

            "Impossible!  There are no dragons left on Weyard, and if there were, they would never attack a protector of the Mars Clan!" the elder insisted.

            "We have only assumed the first," the Great Healer corrected him.  "Our knowledge of the world to the south is limited at best.  And… if it were a Fusion Dragon…"

            "No!" the elder snapped.  "I cannot have anyone, even you, Great Healer, spreading rumours of a Fusion Dragon in the northlands.  They are all long dead, and whatever monstrosity slew two of our protectors, it is no reason to believe that a Fusion Dragon has somehow come into being and threatens Prox.  Send out more protectors, in double groups, and have them search the perimeter of our village constantly.  I want to know more about what's happening on the tundra.  And now I have to inform the elders from the school of our situation."  He turned to go, but Puelle wheezed again.

            "It was a dragon, elder," he said, quietly but certainly.  "I was not fooled and I do not lie."

            The elder didn't reply, just walked on, thankfully not turning his head at all as he passed Saturos' group's hiding places.  Of course, considering the looks of petrified astonishment on their faces, he might have mistaken them for statues anyway.

            "Can I do any more?" asked the captain.

            "Nothing, I fear.  He is recovering, and I shall spend the rest of the day tending his injuries.  I suggest to you deliver the elder's commands to your-"

            "I know I have to listen to him," the captain said, cutting the Healer off.  "I just wish I knew he was doing the right thing."

            "Come on," whispered Myrilia, tapping Saturos on the shoulder.  He turned, feeling stiffness from holding perfectly still, and saw that his friends were sneaking back to the corridors, back to their secret exit, and followed, glancing back only once at the Arch Hall.

            "Well frozen embers, there's a Fusion Dragon out there," Gerhalt remarked as they wandered through the streets, all slightly dazed.

            "The elder said that was impossible," Karst pointed out, unimpressed.  "And no, that doesn't mean that he's automatically lying.  Sometimes the people in power are actually supposed to be there, Ger.  They aren't always shortsighted and stubborn."

            "She reads too much," Gerhalt told Menardi.  "You've got to do something."  Menardi looked down at her sister, sizing her up for a moment.

            "Good work," she said eventually.  "Every notch we take him down means a better chance that he'll grow up."

            "I'm older than you," he protested.

            "No, you've been around longer.  So have rocks."

            "And some of that ice out there," Karst added.

            "Saturos, Agatio, help me out here."

            "No way," said Agatio.  "I'm not cold-witted enough to wade into this just to save your hide."

            "Figures.  How about you?  …Saturos?  Hey, Saturos."  Despite waving his arms and calling out to person four feet away at most, Gerhalt completely failed to pull Saturos out of his thoughts.

            "Amateur," said Menardi, brushing the older boy away and moving to walk on the other side of Saturos, then started talking to Karst.  "So I went to the practice hall the other day.  You wouldn't have believed some of the fencing I saw.  There was this one guy who did a what's-it-called, Shivering Sliver- he did a full counterclockwise spin when the other guy thrust at him, twirling all the way around, and then countered with one of those back-of-the-neck Stringcutter moves-"

            "Shivering Sliver's a clockwise spin, and you're thinking of a Reaper's Touch.  The Stringcutter's aimed for the upper arm," said Saturos, apparently on autopilot, but then he blinked and came back to reality.  "You know that, don't you?"

            "Easiest way to get something wrong is to know what you're talking about.  So what've you been thinking about?  Working on a way to thaw the tundra?"

            "I was just thinking that whoever finds and stops this monster- whatever it is -is going to be in high favour when it's time to pick the people to find Sol Sanctum," he explained.

            "You're right," Gerhalt said.  "You're right."

            "Thanks," Saturos said, weirded out by his friend's reaction.

            "Well, that's it, isn't it?" asked the green-faced boy.

            "Uh… yeah, of course," said Saturos.  He leaned down and spoke quietly.  "Cold's getting to his head.  You get a hot-water bottle.  I'll try to take him down before he hurts himself."

            "Freeze over," Gerhalt snapped at Saturos, "I'm serious.  We should go find this thing, take it out, and then they'll have to send us on the quest for Alchemy."

            "What?  You heard Puelle and the rest of them!  It killed two protectors last night, nearly got Puelle, and probably Jacia, too," Menardi raged.  "You want to go out and get killed too?"

            "Come on, it's probably just a big Pyrodra or something.  You're right, there's no way there's a Fusion Dragon around Prox," he insisted.

            "Yeah, right.  You're just trying to convince us to go with you," said Karst.

            "Seriously, how bad could it… possibly…" Gerhalt trailed off, noticing that the other quiet person was now staring at him like he was an insult to the world, not to mention flammable.

            "A big Pyrodra didn't kill Eletten and Ordalos and Jacia," Myrilia said in deathly tones.  "And how dare you even suggest such a thing!"

            "Myri, I didn't mean it like that."  Gerhalt was silent for a moment, not noticing Myrilia fuming, and heading down the slope toward Fuming.  "Wait- they found Eletten and Ordalos, but not Jacia."

            "That's what they said," Agatio agreed in a you-should-really-stop-talking voice.

            "So maybe she's still alive.  She could be out there-"

            "They'd have found her by now if she were," Saturos said.

            "-Or it took her."

            The howl of the wind filled the sudden silence with a bitter chill, slipping between the houses to steal what little warmth they had.  Eventually, slowly, Saturos said "In all the old stories, dragons do seem to take women as hostages instead of killing them."

            "Come on!" said Menardi.  "Those are stories, and it's just so that the hero can come in and rescue her anyway.  You don't really think that the storytellers were working from the way dragons actually think."  She paused, and when she spoke again, it was in a very different voice, one fragile and just touched with hope.  "…Do you?"

            "I think that we shouldn't just sit around in Prox if there's a chance Jacia's alive," said Saturos, solemnly.

            Myrilia looked like she was on the edge of tears, whether they were of sadness or anger he didn't know, but she kept them under control.  "I can't help Puelle, but I if there's anything we can do for Jacia…"

            Karst nodded.  "I'm in."

            "The hell you are," Menardi told her.

            "Are you going?"

            "Yes."

            "Then you'll really need me."

            "Why?"

            "Because whatever other skills the rest of you have, not to mention Gerhalt being about twice my size, all of you are absolutely pathetic at healing Psynergy.  Even if we find Jacia without getting hurt, do you want to have to worry about getting her back in time too?"

            Menardi looked to Gerhalt.  "You're right.  She does read too much."

            "Whatever.  Meet back here in ten minutes, everyone.  And then we'll see if we can get a place in the quest for Alchemy-" he caught Myri's returning glare "-by saving someone's life.  After all, it probably gets easier with practice."

            Saturos raced through the front door and to his room, giving his mother a summary of the morning so far with a few of the less legal parts cut out, such as breaking into the Arch Hall and deciding to hunt down a lethal monster without telling anyone and dragging several friends into mortal peril as well.

            "That's nice dear, but be home before it's dark!" called his mother as he ran out the door, sabre on his belt and adventuring pack on his back.

            "Where's Saturos going?" asked Helone -one of his mother's friends- sipping tea in the kitchen.

            "Oh, off to play with his friends.  Apparently there aren't any classes today," she said.

            "Taking a sabre with him?"

            "Saturos loves fencing.  Maybe a little too much, but we all have to stay strong these days."

            "He's a little anakin, Liasha," she stated, rather severely.

            "Helone!  Don't say such things!" Liasha said, snapping a little.  She calmed a little.  "Karst is an education, isn't she?"

            "I don't think the village has ever had such widespread knowledge of Old Alchemical for decades.  But I admit I shouldn't have used the word."

            "That's all right.  I have faith in my son.  He's going to turn out just fine," Liasha stated, looking out the window.  She shot a sly look at Helone.  "If he doesn't get himself eaten by a Pyrodra first."

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Now go read part two!