Chapter 2 is finally here! Break out the Champagne and party!
Sunruner: Haha! You're under age! Mwahahahaha!
-Is very painfully injured in the head with a stick-
Anyhoo, YAY for Chapter 2!
Flint: Yeah, but it's short and boring.
Shut up!
It IS a little shorter than I'd hoped, but if you don't like it there are some lemons that need sucking. I'll try and post other chapters faster now, but I have a LOT going on.
Flint: o-o you did a lot of naughty bad things in this chapter
It's what I get for listening to music while writing; besides, I'm still not settled on a rating, so it may go up in the future. Lalalalala I can't heeear you!
I don't own Golden Sun. I'd like to though. "Hint HINT Camelot!"
(Also, Sunruner's opinions may not actually reflect those of her Muse counterpart. In fact, if you ask her she will deny any association with the Muse at risk of prodding. I think.)
REVIEW(S)
Dinny- Glad you like it so much! Very glad! Ecstatic! Indeed, I enjoy writing, and I make every effort to make sure people enjoy reading what I write. After all, if they didn't I'd just be wasting my time, right?
Chapter 2: The Festival of Lights
Garet slammed his glass down onto the table, cracking it in his victory.
"Done!"
Isaac slowly lowered his mug, sputtering ale and coughing.
"But- how?"
Jenna walked up behind Garet and put a hand lightly on his shoulder.
"Isaac, don't you know that the Brain," -at this she poked Garet's head- "controls the senses?"
"OH, so what you're saying is-"
Garet cut off Isaac's revolutionary thoughts, saying, "You people don't know me! I'm like the master of drinking stuff! Oh, and EATING, boy I LOVE to eat!"
"Garet you're drunk."
"Yeah, and I'm also the Djinni of something too! But what do you know, you stupid Mars adept you..."
Jenna looked helplessly at Isaac, who was most assuredly NOT a Mars adept. He shrugged, then leaned back into his oaken chair to watch as Garet valiantly attempted to stand up.
Isaac hadn't really wanted to enter the Drinking Contest, preferring to keep his wits about him on nights such as this. Ever since his return from the journey, somebody had marked him as Vale's sexiest hunk of man; and now he was constantly fending off women hoping to catch him off guard.
But Garet had slowly been gaining a form of charisma that made him pretty hard to refuse, so Isaac had consigned himself to burning his throat raw with the bubbly Nut Ale that was so popular in Vale. Garet, however, did not appear to be easily daunted by personal injury, a fact that Isaac didn't really find too surprising.
Garet finally succeeded in standing up, and nearly ran into the Mayor as he wandered off to locate Mia; the one person that he was hoping could sober him up.
"Young Garet gone and got himself drunk again, has he?" the Mayor asked as he sat down.
"Yeah," Isaac responded, a light and rare smile playing across his lips, "but he won the Drinking Contest, so he'll be happy after somebody revives him..."
Garet was only a few feet away, alternately putting the moves on a tree and begging Mia to cast Restore on him. Unfortunately, Mia had drunk a fair bit of Berry Wine and was now giggling far to much to be of any use. She was roaring with laughter as she froze Garet's left hand to the tree, and finally stopped laughing long enough to stumble away and search for Piers.
The Mayor was quite amused by the whole affair, Isaac had planted his head firmly into his hands, and Jenna was on the ground in stitches.
Garet, however, had not been happy with the whole affair. He'd been sobered considerably by the ice which had trapped his hand, but not so much so that he could remember he was a Mars adept and should have freed himself easily.
Felix sat on the roof of his house, one of the few in Vale that was not thatched, but rather wood. Several of the villagers had adopted the wisdom of this choice, because while it was a substantially larger initial investment, it cost less to repair after a heavy snowfall.
He was alone, as always, watching as the dazzling display of colours writhed and shone across the darkened skies. Purple, blue, green, yellow, and colours that he wasn't even sure had names. It was a celestial dance that rivalled anything caused by Alchemy; or so Felix would believe, not having seen Alchemy unleashed for himself.
But even Kraden, old as he was, agreed that the Festival of Lights was probably more impressive than any man-made magic. Isaac had pointed out, however, that judging by the sketches in old books would be a bad way to make that decision.
Something caught Felix's eye, causing him to sit up in alarm. Weyard's lone moon was hovering high above the colours, fading in and out with the rhythm of the light. After a moment there was a flash of blue, and the moon again appeared; stable.
Felix lay back, confused.
"Colourscolourscolourscolourscolourscolours!"
A Venus djinni, Granite, hopped up onto the roof and sat himself down firmly on Felix's chest.
"Felix watching colours?"
"Yeah Granite, I am." Felix replied, smiling at Granite's limited speech, something that set the little guy apart from the others.
"Felix sad?"
"Nah, just confused."
The little djinni put on a mask of bravado.
"You tell Granite, he help!"
Felix picked the Venus djinn up and put him onto the roof, sitting up.
"It's alright Granite-"
Before he could finish, Granite gave a loud whistle.
"DJINNI TACKLE!"
Almost as one, 72 djinni tackled Felix and drove him onto his back. He tried to wrestle himself free, but they'd successfully mobbed him.
Since their return to Vale, the djinn had started tackling people who needed a boost, a sweet gesture that had, aside from the injuries, increased town morale.
Felix finally managed to wrench himself free, and settled down on the roof to keep watching.
The prisoner sat in her cell, alone and bruised. She dared not to use Psynergy to repair her injuries for fear of attracting her captors. The eternal night sky above her sparkled with stars, and her battered face was brightly illuminated by the dancing lights below.
She shrunk into a corner as one of the guards strode past, his leering face peering into the cell for only the slightest of moments. Her heart jumped as somebody stopped the patrolling man just outside her cell.
"Is the girl still inside?"
"Yes ma'am, Shira is still there. She's still-"
"Quiet you fool, she's probably listening in right now!"
"Sorry m'lady."
"It isn't a problem Hadien; after all, that's why you're a guard and I'm not."
Shira could practically hear the man bow.
"Very good m'lady."
"How are her wounds healing?"
"How should I know?"
"Don't piss me off Hadien!" raged the lady, slamming the poor guard against the stone wall, "You're the clairvoyant, you tell me!"
Hadien sighed, or gasped; Shira couldn't tell.
"Fine." he finally answered in resignation, adjusting his armour, "Her bodily wounds are progressing well, only the larger bruises remain. But her soul is carrying a dark shadow with it, almost like she wishes for death..."
"Ha! I know Shira well. She wouldn't be that weak!"
Shira's hand was shaking, begging for a blade with which to wreak her revenge on her sister. If only...
"She hears you m'lady..."
There was a strong sneer to the reply.
"Oh, I know. It's a pity really." the voice waved away Hadien in dismissal. "Feel free to do with her what you will tonight, she deserves it."
Shira's insides heaved sharply at the mention of Hadien's cruelties. She could still sense the unclean feeling deep in her soul, regardless of how much they let her shower and bathe. Rapist bastard...
She flung herself at the barred door.
"What about the girl? Come back you bitch! What are you going to do about the girl!"
Hadien waved his spear at her.
"Quiet now your highness, you'll wake the other guards..."
Ivan was tremendously happy, leading Sheba about the town hanging from his arm, eyes wide.
"Oooooh... Ivan, I've never seen anything like this!"
They sampled foods, drinks, contests. Sheba had proved to be quite the arm at archery, beating out all but a slightly drunken Isaac, who fluked enormously on his final shot.
The two friends finally retired to a small ledge near the edge of the party. Sheba's heart felt tight in her chest as she held Ivan's hand, desperately trying to control her urge to kiss him. She was 15 years old now, the age at which girls in Lalivero were traditionally married. But now she was in a world with different rules now, or so it felt, and she wasn't sure what she should do.
"Hey Sheba do you want to-"
They turned to face each other, but Ivan stopped speaking once he saw the glint in her eye. She smiled shyly at him, and suddenly their lips were embracing. He ran his hand through her hair, and she shuddered happily. Sheba noticed how smooth Ivan's hands were, how right it felt to be sitting there. She could almost feel a fresh breeze moving over her body, and wondered if Ivan felt the same thing.
There was a disturbance down at the party quite suddenly, and the two broke apart. Ivan heard a scream, and jumped down from the ledge with cat-like dexterity. He deftly caught Sheba as she slipped down after him, and the two dashed out into the town square.
An angel.
Decked out in full battle dress, a glowing crystalline sword and shield strapped to its- his- back. He surveyed the crowd, unaware of the unearthly glow he cast across the town. Far above, the lights had reached a fevered pitch.
When he spoke, it sounded like a thousand souls were talking right along with him.
"Child of Anemos..."