Chapter 2 up! It might be a little short. It might not. I've planned some of this now, but I don't know how long on average the chapters will be.

Elliott: She's new to this 'planning' thing.

Review response: Flowers of Moss: Thanks for he review (my first!) and putting this in your favorite stories. Because of that, I'll assume it's a positive 'interesting.' Here's more!

Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun. Camelot does. And not the freaky one from Monty Python, either. The one in Japan.

Hama knelt beside the stone marker and placed a handful of violets at its base.

"Hello, Mother," she said quietly. Even after six months, the pain of losing her was sharp. She swallowed, glanced again at the bag beside her. She hated to leave her mother's grave. She was the only one who really tended it. Still, Anna and Viktor had promised to take care of it for her. She was leaving the village, after six months on her own. Two years after her brother, a year and a half after her father, she was walking out of the town gates.

Her father had left to find work so he could earn money and buy medicine for her mother, who'd fallen ill soon after Ivan had left. He had done so, and well, finding work as a guard in a city called Alhafra. He'd brought the medicine back himself, and her mother had gotten better. They'd spent the few days he'd stayed with them laughing at his stories of the outside world, and especially as he made fun of the mayor he worked for and the other guards who, judging from his descriptions of their characters, certainly did not have children or wives. Alhafra was an odd town, apparently, and the letters he'd sent back had always made her laugh.

But the last letter she'd gotten from Alhafra had not been funny at all. Nor had it been from her father. Seven months ago, pirates had attacked the harbor in Alhafra. The Alhafran Mayor had deeply regretted to inform them (Hama doubted that strongly) that her father had been among the casualties. He had been knocked overboard his ship and lost to the ocean. His remains, after they'd washed up on the beach, had been interred with honor. Just another paper to sign on his desk, she'd thought bitterly, before her mother had woken up and asked to see the letter. They hadn't told anyone else in the village, but they had probably guessed why no more letters came.

Her mother had been sick for too long, and had lost too much. A month later, Hama had been alone. She couldn't take it anymore. She was leaving town. To be near, if not with, the only family she had left.

She said her last goodbye in the village, then picked up her bag and left.

Travelling was harder than she thought. It took her a full six months to make it to Indra. All her clothes were muddy, she was exhausted, hungry, permanently wet, and to top it all off, she was broke. How on Weyard was she going to make it to Angara?

A growling noise began behind her. Oh hell. Ignore it, and it won't bother you. That was the strategy for wolves, right? Or…was it the strategy for bears? Bees? She looked behind her. A large, black-and-brown bear stood behind her. On its hind legs. It was huge. Huge.

Most 16-year-olds in Contigo didn't know any words stronger than 'heck' or maybe 'crap.' They led a very sheltered life. But as Hama's father had been a soldier, she was a little better informed. She turned to run, whispering to herself.

"Oh, son of a—"

She woke up in a stone building. It was a building because it certainly wasn't a house, unless the mother of all masochists lived here. It was four stone walls and two big doors. And a very high ceiling. That was it. She hoped something nice was behind those doors. Like food. Or a bath.

She tried to sit up and found she couldn't. Pain erupted in her abdomen and she moaned. She heard footsteps and tried to see who it was. A monk appeared, in orange robes, and knelt beside her.

"Ah, you are awake. What is your name, young lady?"

"Hama. I have been travelling for a long time. I am from Contigo," she told the young monk. It was odd, but she felt better here, knowing it was a temple.

"Hama of Contigo, hmm? Very well. You are in our hall, as we do not have a proper infirmary. It was knocked down in a storm. You are welcome here for as long as it takes for you to recuperate, but once you are better, our Master Poi would like to speak with you." Hama nodded.

"I understand. What happened to me?"

"You were attacked by wild animals near the town of Daila. The villagers brought you here, so you might avail of our healing arts." Hama blushed.?

"Thank you," she told him. "But I don't have any money…"

He shook his head reassuringly. "We charge nothing for our services. We live to serve, and spread wisdom and goodwill. You should rest, Miss Hama. We will care for you." Hama nodded, cast Sleep on herself, and drifted off.

Two weeks later, Hama was healed and refreshed. Being dry, fed and clean was a welcome change in her routine, but she had to get to Angara. She prepared to leave, and just before setting off, went to speak with the Master Poi, as she had been asked. She raised her hand to knock for admittance to his chambers.

"Enter, Hama of Contigo," an elderly-sounding voice ordered before she could strike the wood. She blinked once, got over it, and stepped forward, into his chambers. The old man got up from the floor, where he had been sitting. "Miss Hama," he greeted her, bowing slightly. Hama was unsure how to respond.

"Thank you, Master Poi," she replied, hesitant, "for the care I have been shown." She made an awkward attempt at bowing. Poi waved at her not to.

"No, it is fine," he told her. "It is part of our calling, to help those in need. I might ask what you are doing here though, Hama. Contigo is on the island continent of Atteka. Very far from Indra."

"I am…looking for someone," she told him, hoping to get away with that.

"Looking? For whom? Few people come to Daila. You are not looking here, are you? Who is this person you seek, and where do you think he is?" Hama nearly jumped at the word 'he.' It was just an assumption, anyone would say that, 'he' instead of 'she.' Yet, for some reason, she felt that Poi had a better reason to have used the male pronoun specifically. Looking at him, Hama felt almost as if she was speaking to her parents again. She wondered if he needed to be answered to know.

She finally managed to speak. "He is…in Angara, somewhere. I am going to Angara to find him." The old man nodded and produced a roll of parchment.

"The town you seek," he told her, "is called Kalay, ruled, and founded about two years ago, by one Hammett. I believe you should find your brother there." Hama was staring at him, aghast. This was creepy. The old man had not used Psynergy. She was sure of it.

She stammered out, "H…how do you know that?" The old man smiled.

"Your coming was foretold in our oldest scrolls. How did it go…now…yes. 'Shall come a child of the wind from the continent in the southern sea. Guide her to the fledgling town of Angara, there to meet her kin, young as the place in which he lives.'" He paused. "He is your brother, right? Not your cousin or…" he looked her over doubtfully, "your son?" Hama wrinkled her nose involuntarily and Poi laughed.

"He is my brother. Ivan." Son! she scoffed inwardly. A two-year-old at her age! What a load of—

Poi interrupted her thoughts. "You do know what will happen if you interrupt his fate?" Hama sighed. Yes. She knew. He could have no ties to his home if he were to succeed in his mission. Which meant that if she were to go to Angara, she would have to either watch him from a distance and never let him meet her, or try to keep a secret from a child who could read minds. The former method sounded easier.

"Yes," she told him. "I won't allow that to happen." Poi nodded, satisfied. Still, she thought, as he handed her the map, she would do anything, anything, to stay by her brother's side. Deceive him for the next decade or more, face monsters, shoulder the fate of the world. Anything, to stay by him and keep him safe.

Her hand closed over the parchment scroll, but Poi did not let go. He caught her gaze and held it, his eyes piercing and clear.

"You have the courage to stand beside him, Hama. That I do not doubt. But do you have the courage to let him stand alone?" the temple's master told her quietly. Hama took the map, thanked Poi for his help, and left the temple as quickly as she could, his words haunting her with every step.

Alright. I'll try to get ch 3 up soon. Hope you liked that. It was a little subdued for me. Next chapter should be more me.

Elliott: You mean insane?

Ivan: When do you get to me? Without having me puke?

Next chapter and don't think you're done puking. XP

Ivan: Yippee.

Read and review!