All right! I'm posting a chapter a little sooner than I expected, because my responsibilities were pushed back to a later date (i.e. now), so I had some time in between. It's a bit longer, so hopefully it will help tide you over until July.

Author's Note: I don't own Golden Sun, its characters, etc.

Chapter 3: Heading Backwards

Of course. Of course Sheba chose Felix. Ivan rolled over on his bed and stared at the flickering candle on his nightstand. Why was he so surprised? Felix was stronger, braver, taller. He'd known her longer. He'd even jumped off a crumbling lighthouse to save her life, while Ivan had just stared across the chasm, wondering if it was possible for two adepts to survive a six mile fall.

Then, four months after Felix and Sheba had "died", Ivan had lain gasping on the cold stone walkway of the Jupiter Lighthouse, wondering how long he would survive. The acidic smell of blood and singed armor tainted every unsteady breath. His vision melted into a puddle of blurred, colorless shapes, but though he couldn't see much, he could hear Isaac's cries as Karst joined her partner in showering Isaac with fireballs. His friend was dying, and once the Proxians were done with Isaac, they'd turn to the defenseless Garet and Mia, and Ivan would have to listen to them scream too. And as his life seeped into the freezing stone beneath him, Ivan knew that their deaths would be his fault for being too weak to defend himself, for not dying quietly.

And then…Felix came. Like bright shining angels from beyond the grave, Felix, Sheba, and their friends had rushed in to fight off the Proxians, saving everyone from Ivan's mistake. Ivan blacked out shortly after. He woke up to Sheba's touch as she rubbed a healing salve into his burns. Her fingers had been so soft, he didn't even feel the sting of the potion as it revived the skin on his arms. He didn't even thank her for healing him, or ask if the others were all right. He'd just stared up at the night sky and thanked the stars that someone had saved him. Again.

Why would Sheba choose the child who always needed rescuing when she could have the hero, the man who had saved both their lives? Because Ivan was a fellow wind adept? Because he had a stupid, unrequited crush? Really, what had Ivan been expecting?

Well, not expecting. More like dreaming, or wishing. Even though Sheba was vastly more charismatic and outgoing than he was, they seemed to get along well. He'd even dare to think Sheba enjoyed having him around.

That was probably due to his element more than his actual personality, though. Both he and Sheba had grown up believing that they were the only people in all of Weyard with their abilities. It was only natural that when their groups joined forces, they'd want to learn as much about each other as possible.

Unfortunately, for Ivan the relationship was more than one of curiosity. It was… well, it was love, wasn't it? When he was with Sheba, he felt safe and warm. Even if she was just in the same room, when Sheba was near Ivan had a hard time remembering what it was like to be alone. She was like…light. He didn't technically need her to survive, but when she was gone, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He-

Suddenly Ivan heard footsteps in the hall outside, heading towards his room. Judging from their voices, Ivan knew it had to be his roommates, Isaac and Garet. Ivan felt the muscles in his shoulders go tight with dread. True, they were his first friends, his best friends, but Ivan really didn't want to talk with them right now.

Ivan knew that no matter what kind of conversation they were having, if he had to speak he'd start stuttering and get red in the face, and they'd want to know what was the matter. Then Ivan would break down and start bawling, and his friends would REALLY know something was wrong. Eventually they'd put two and two together and realize that he was crying over Sheba. Then they'd try to comfort him, and he'd feel even worse, and they'd bring in Mia or Jenna or, gods forbid, Sheba to calm him down. And Ivan just couldn't take that sort of humiliation.

Maybe he could tell them that he was sick. That would explain the tremors in his hand, and give him a good excuse if he had to go throw up later. Ivan grabbed a small amulet on his nightstand and looked at his reflection on the silver back. Oh gods above. His face was completely pink. And he was crying. Crying like a little girl.

Isaac and Garet were just outside the door now. The doorknob was turning. Ivan dove back into his bed and yanked his bedsheets over his face. As the door opened, he rolled around to face the wall and rubbed his eyes as hard as he could without shaking the bed.

"Still," Garet's thick voice rumbled from the doorway, "after all the hard work we did, you'd have thought SOMEBODY would come to dinner.

"Even if the others had come, do you really think anyone would have eaten anything?" asked the softer, quieter voice of Isaac. "Our conversation with the girls lasted so long that we burned the casserole and the pie. You and Picard exploded the aqua jellies. The only thing left was Ivan's salad, and he- Oh."

Ivan heard the springs from Garet's bed give out a metallic whine as his friend sat down. "What is it?"

"Shh, Ivan's asleep," Isaac whispered.

"Oh" said Garet, his voice lowered to a rumble. "But I thought he ran off to go comfort Sheba."

"He must have come straight back here and fallen asleep."

Garet chuckled to himself. "What a guy. He gets so worried about Sheba that he doesn't even get himself a bite to eat. I keep telling him that if he doesn't look out for himself more, he's gonna wake up one morning with a killer cold."

"You know Ivan. He's one of those rare people who always thinks about others before himself."

"Yeah, unlike some people we know."

"Come on, Garet, you've been going on about Felix all night. Can't we talk about something else?"

As Garet and Isaac chatted, Ivan tried his hardest not to move, taking slow, shallow breaths so that his blanket wouldn't shift and attract attention. He hadn't thought it was possible, but he now felt worse than ever. Listening to Isaac's and Garet's compliments had knotted his stomach so tightly that it felt as if it were going to collapse in on itself. Ivan, the kind of person who thinks of others first. How ironic.

Sheba was the one who had gotten rejected. Sheba was the one whose heart was breaking. She needed Ivan's help now more than ever, but when he found out about her rejection, what did he do? He ran to his room and hid under the covers, like a child afraid of the dark. He'd been so busy feeling sorry for himself the past few hours that it hadn't even occurred to him to go comfort Sheba. And now, when Ivan finally realized that he should be at her side, he couldn't move. Even if Ivan made it to Sheba's room, could he really keep it together well enough to give her the support she deserved? No. No, he could not.

Because in spite of what his friends seemed to think, Ivan knew that at his heart he was a deeply selfish person. Someone who relied on his friends to save him from his mistakes, and then stole the credit for their accomplishments. Who invaded strangers' most private thoughts but couldn't look them in the eye. Who, without his friends to protect him, would never have set foot in Lunpa, and would have let the man who raised him from infancy rot in a jail cell for eternity.

A person who was, at his core, a coward.

Somehow, in spite of his stomach tying itself into knots, Ivan had managed to fall asleep. The next thing he knew, the room was filled with the rustles and snaps of his roommates dressing. Ivan groggily poked his head out of the sheets.

Isaac paused, his arm halfway through his jacket. He cringed. "Sorry, Ivan. We tried not to disturb you."

"He was going to have to wake up anyway," said Garet, crouching in front of the small mirror on his dresser. "Don't want to miss two meals in a row."

Ivan told them it was all right and changed as fast as he could. The three made their way to the deck above, where Mia, Picard and Sheba were already chatting by the table. Or rather, Mia and Picard talked while Sheba sat on the bench, looking…wilted.

Sheba looked up and flashed a small smile to Ivan. "Hey. Sorry I didn't open my door last night. Mia told me that you stopped by to check on me, but I was kind of…um…yeah." She lowered her head and rubbed her arm self-consciously.

Ivan felt his stomach tighten. He pushed the guilt out of his mind and gave Sheba as comforting a smile as he could. "It's all right. I'm sorry about…" Ivan closed his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to say Felix's name out loud.

Luckily, he didn't need to. Sheba's smile grew thin and forced. She knew who Ivan was talking about. "It's all right. I'm not going to, you know, die or anything," she muttered.

Perhaps Sheba didn't look like she was on death's door, but she certainly didn't look all right. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her voice was very small. Her skin, her clothes, even her hair looked pale and dry, as if someone had sucked the color out of her. Ivan hated seeing her like this. He knew he should say something to comfort her, but his mind was blank, so he stood there smiling uselessly like a dropped puppet.

"Hey," Garet cried. "Dang it, the table's still covered with last night's dishes! I don't want to clean this up! Who's the slacker who had dish duty last night?"

Ivan felt a chill go up his spine. Oh no. He'd neglected his chores too? What else had he forgotten last night? "I'm-sorry-I'm-so-sorry-I-forgot-I'll-clean-it-up-right-away!" he cried, piling as many plates and bowls as could fit in his arms.

Mia smiled gently. "It's all right, Ivan, you don't have to rush. Breakfast isn't even ready yet." She shot a scolding look at Garet, who stared sullenly at his boots.

"What's this? You ate without me again?" said a voice from behind the adepts. They turned around to see Kraden at the top of the stairs. He had two rolls of parchment under each arm and a bemused, almost hurt look on his wrinkled face.

The teens rushed to deny the scholar's question with a chorus of "No, of course not!"s. Mia explained that Ivan was simply cleaning up last night's dinner. The adept in question rushed past Kraden with a table-full of dishes and a garbled "Excuse me!" Kraden's robes fluttered a little as Ivan sped by.

"My goodness," said Kraden, gently placing his manuscripts onto his corner of the table. "Nothing gets that boy riled up quite like a pile of dirty dishes, does it?"

"Yeah. A lifetime of being a hand servant to one of the most powerful men on the continent will do that to you," answered Garet.

Kraden pushed his glasses up his nose. "I thought he was Master Hammet's adopted son."

Isaac creased his brow in concern. "He's both. Lady Llayana explained it to us in Kalay, remember?"

Kraden blinked and then waved his hand as if to shoo his mistake aside. "Ah, yes, that odd arrangement. Forgive me. Sometimes the little details slip in my old age."

Isaac and Garet glanced at each other. It could have been Isaac's imagination, but ever since the two parties joined up, Kraden seemed a bit…older than he remembered. He forgot small things, like where he'd left his book or the names of the towns in his stories. And he was spending more and more time in his study below deck, watching over the ship or sleeping as the rest of the group explored the ruins of ancient temples and forgotten mine shafts.

Then again, the adepts' journey was rough even for them; Isaac could only imagine how difficult traveling across the world was for a psynergy-less man of 70. Kraden wasn't getting old or anything; he was just tired. And even if he was getting slower, he was still quicker and more knowledgeable than most men a quarter of his age.

Still, Kraden seemed to think he was going senile. Any time he forgot the littlest thing, he'd apologize and berate himself for getting old. His age came up more and more in conversations, which were uncomfortable to say the least. Any time Kraden mentioned his age, Garet, Isaac, or Jenna changed the subject as quickly as possible before their friend could start reminiscing about how much smarter and stronger he was in his youth.

"So what are the parchments for, Kraden?" asked Garet.

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask about them. You see, the reason I didn't come to dinner last night was because I was double-checking these scrolls from the last temple we visited. But the facts match on all four manuscripts. I think I can safely say…" said Kraden as he smiled softly to himself, "that I've discovered how to get inside the Mars lighthouse." He raised his hand before the others could speak. "BUT we should wait until everyone's arrived, so I don't have to explain it twice."

Just then, Jenna and Ivan came up the stairs with trays of steaming bowls. Garet stiffened. "Jenna," he croaked. "You cooked breakfast?"

Jenna glared at her fellow fire adept. "It's porridge," she growled as she set a bowl in front of Garet.

"Oh." Garet relaxed. Even Jenna couldn't screw porridge up.

Kraden looked around the table as everyone sat down. "Where's Felix?" Everyone cringed simultaneously.

"I…don't think he's coming to breakfast today," answered Picard. "Don't worry, I'll explain everything to him later. Now, what was it you had to tell us about the Mars Lighthouse?"

"Ah, yes, of course." Kraden spread out the parchments so that the margins overlapped each other. "Now, as you recall, the ancients had decided to remove the Mars, Jupiter, Venus, and Mercury Stars from their lighthouses, and to lock them away in the Sol Sanctum. But of course, there were many people who opposed the sealing of alchemy. To prevent these people from reigniting the lighthouses, the ancients devised certain…requirements in order to summit them."

"Like how you must have an adept of the lighthouse's element in order to enter," offered Picard.

"Or all the traps inside to keep people from reaching the top," added Jenna.

"Precisely," said Kraden, snapping his fingers. "These manuscripts describe one of the requirements to enter the Mars Lighthouse. It is an ancient artifact called Vulcan's Greaves."

Garet groaned. "Great. So now we have to search Weyard for ANOTHER ancient artifact of immeasurable power?"

Kraden gave an impish grin. "Actually, no. Believe it or not, the artifact is located in none other than the very village our journey began."

The group fell silent. "Are you saying…it's in Vale?" asked a wide-eyed Jenna. Kraden nodded.

"Wait, wait, wait." The group turned towards the small blond at the end of the table, whose bloodshot eyes were now dry and calculating. "You all told me that Vale was mostly earth adepts. Why would it have an artifact for the Mars lighthouse?"

"That's a very good question, Sheba," replied Kraden. "You see, out of all the opponents of alchemy's sealing, the Proxians were by far the most volatile. They attacked anyone who tried to enter the Mars Lighthouse and steal its Elemental Star. The ancients had to siege Prox for months, losing countless soldiers to the fierce cold and the Proxians' deadly attacks, before they finally breached the lighthouse."

"Geez, these guys have been a menace since the very beginning, haven't they?" muttered Garet.

"Actually, Garet, it's not quite that simple." Kraden leaned forward and adjusted his glasses. "The Proxians knew that once alchemy was sealed, their homeland would be the first to suffer the consequences. Without the Mars star's light, their country would grow dangerously cold, even for them, and much of their land would fall over Gaia falls. In their eyes, the ancients were dooming their country and the entire world to a long, painful death, and the Proxians were determined to thwart that fate. And as you all know, when the Proxians wage war, they fight until they win or die. Most of them did the latter."

"Yeah, yeah. Poor Proxians, doomed to always be stubborn at the wrong time," muttered Sheba, who had difficulties feeling sympathy for her former kidnappers. "But Kraden, that still doesn't answer my question."

"Ah, yes, of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked," replied Kraden. "You see, even after the ancients defeated the Proxians and extracted the Mars Star, the remaining Proxians were determined to revive alchemy. They swore that they would scour the world for the Mars Star, punish the thieves who held it, and then steal it back. Since Prox has many proficient Mars adepts, it would be dangerously easy for them to make their way to the top of the lighthouse once they had the Mars Star. And so, the ancients gave the Mars Lighthouse an extra defense: a gate, of sorts, which required a very special key."

"Vulcan's Greaves," said Picard.

Kraden nodded. "Exactly. According to these manuscripts, Vulcan's Greaves were originally held here." Kraden touched his finger to one of the parchments, which, now that the adepts looked more closely, was in fact a large, wrinkled map. The scholar's yellowed nail lay on top of a small island off the coast of Gondowan. "In an island called Lemnos. The people of Lemnos had a village very much like ours, composed of fire and earth adepts. Their duty was to protect Vulcan's Greaves from Proxian thieves, much like the people of Vale have dedicated their lives to guarding the Elemental Stars. However, a tragedy befell the island, which wiped out most of the village.

"Really? What happened?" asked Mia.

Kraden frowned. "Well, the manuscripts are unfortunately quite vague about that. There are a few glyphs here and here which could be interpreted as describing a sort of "curse", but they could also be translated as "disease" or "fatal illness". You have to understand, these are merely excerpts out of a larger text. Without the other pages, it's difficult to tell whether the villagers died because of something related to Vulcan's Greaves or if their misfortune was merely a coincidental plague."

There was a small silence as the group contemplated how poorly the words "coincidence" and "plague" fit together.

"Ahem. Anyway," Kraden continued, "a few of the Lemnos villagers survived, and they managed to transport the artifact to its sister village, Vale. They humbly asked the mayor to take on their responsibility and guard Vulcan's Greaves along with the Elemental Stars. Of course, the mayor could hardly refuse, so he swore to guard the artifact personally."

"Hnh," Jenna smirked. "A legendary artifact under our feet, and we never even knew."

"Yes, well, I suppose knowledge of the Greaves got lost over time, which is why I never found anything about them within Vale's archives. But Valeans aren't the type of people to shift responsibility onto others. If I know the people of Vale, I can be fairly certain that once the Greaves arrived, they never left."

"In that case…" Isaac turned to the group. "Are you all okay with stopping there?"

Sheba was practically vibrating with excitement. "Are you kidding? I can't wait!" She leered evilly at Isaac, Garet, and Jenna. "I want to visit your houses and have your parents tell me all of the embarrassing stories from when you guys were kids."

Jenna returned her friend's mock sneer. "Not a chance." She turned to Isaac. "No really, I'm all for it."

Picard grinned. "Even if this Greaves business hadn't come up, I was going to ask if we could make a visit. I really want to have a look at this Sol Sanctum of yours. I think it could offer a lot of clues about how places like Contigo and Lemuria managed to retain their higher levels of alchemy."

Mia nodded. "I've heard so much about it. It would be nice to see it with my own eyes."

"I think we should," said Ivan. "Even if the Greaves have been relocated, the clues to their whereabouts will most likely be there."

Garet opened his mouth, and then paused. He'd promised his family that he and Isaac wouldn't return until they'd completed their mission to stop the lighthouses from being relit. How would the village react when they realized that the mayor's son had not only failed his mission, but was now trying to bring alchemy back to the world?

Garet sensed the others' eyes on him and pushed the image of his disappointed parents out of his mind. His family would forgive him once Kraden showed them the maps that proved Weyard was shrinking. Even his grandfather couldn't blame him for trying to save the world. Besides, Isaac knew what he was doing. If he wasn't worrying about the villagers, then Garet wouldn't either.

Garet stretched his mouth as wide as it would go and shouted, "Yeah, sounds like a great idea!"

Isaac gave a crisp nod and said, "All right. If everyone's agreed, then…it looks like we're going home."

So much aaaaangst. Yes, I know, most of you will think Ivan was a little bit too emo in the first half of this chapter, but at this moment in the story, that's his character. If you're wondering why Ivan has such deep self-esteem issues, consider this: Up until he's fifteen years old, he thinks he's the only wind adept in the world. No, scratch that, he doesn't even know what adepts are, so he thinks he's a freak of nature. He travels all over the continent with Master Hammet, and everywhere he goes, people call him strange and avoid him at all costs. Furthermore, he can read these people's minds and hear just how much they fear and despise him, thereby getting rejected on two planes.

The only people who don't treat him like a walking disaster are Master Hammet, Lady Layana, and maybe the guards you talk to when you arrive at Kalay in the game. The thing is, Master Hammet had promised Ivan's mother that he would adopt Ivan and treat him like a son. Instead, by the time Ivan is left in Vault, he's gone from "adopted son" to "personal servant". Ivan doesn't know about this deal, of course. As far as I can tell, he was simply raised as a servant who had a father-son relationship with his master. And maybe not even that, since Ivan calls Hammet "Master" instead of "Father". True, it seemed like Master Hammet treated Ivan fairly well, but the idea that, "Okay, I'll treat you like my son, but you have to follow all of my orders, because to everyone else you're just my servant," had to be a bit of a damper on the relationship. Even with mind reading powers, it had to have been difficult for a young child like Ivan to tell where he stood with his master/father. And since Master Hammet was one of maybe four people in the entire world who tolerated Ivan's presence, pleasing Master Hammet was paramount in Ivan's life. All this results in a neurotic, self-conscious child who will do almost anything to avoid disapproval.

Sorry, I didn't mean to go into a character study. The point is, Ivan has issues. Everyone on this boat has issues. They're teenagers fighting for their lives every day. Over half of them have been imprisoned/kidnapped at some point. A few have even been worshipped as angels/goddesses. These adepts are not going to be normal, psychologically speaking.

On another note, I hope you guys could tell which scene I was referring to in Ivan's flashback. You know, the one on Jupiter Lighthouse where everyone in Isaac's party nearly dies? I'm probably going to visit that a couple more times. I'll try not to make the other flashbacks as confusing as this one was.

And don't worry, this isn't going to be a straight love triangle between Ivan, Sheba, and Felix. There's a teensy bit more going on than that.

Also, I'd like to make a short note: Vulcan's Greaves do not have anything to do with Star Trek. They're named after the Roman god of fire, since I noticed Golden Sun likes using mythology. Vulcan was also crippled, which will be important later on. Also, for those of you who don't know, greaves is a type of arm guard. Plus, it sounds like grieves.

I think that's it. You have to realize, I'm writing this author's note during the wee hours of the morning, so it may not be terribly coherent. But I want to get this post up, so I'll stop writing and just press the save button now.

Oh, before I go, I wanted to thank the people who reviewed so far! It's always inspiring to hear what you guys think. Okay, seriously. Me. Post. Now.