Hey look, I'm writing something other than a romance! Bet you people never saw that one coming, eh? Well, I thought this would be a nice change of pace from my usual mushy stuff (just this once). I owe some inspirational credit to both "The Silence is Broken" by Onyx-dreams (if you haven't read it, go read it!) and the early portions of "Adventures in Adept Training" by Akiko (it's a Garet/Mia story later, but we'll forgive her). This idea basically solidified in my head one day when I was listening to the opening theme song to Neon Genesis Evangelion; "A Thesis of the Cruel Angel" (hence my title). This is what I get for listening to Japanese music! ^_^;

Disclaimer: *yawn* Golden Sun and all related characters are copyrighted by Camelot Software Planning and Nintendo.

*Five Years*

Having completed her daily errands, Dora left the Vale marketplace for home. The spring sun had long passed its peak and she had to start dinner shortly. The basket she carried was heavy with the ingredients for the anticipated meal. Her husband Kyle was always ravenous at the end of the day. She smiled down at the tiny blonde boy trotting beside her, trying his best to keep with her relatively slow pace. In his arms he carried some blue material purchased in town, which she planned to turn into new clothes for him. He was growing like a weed. She reached into her basket and pulled out a small peppermint stick.

"Here, Isaac," she said, handing it to him. "A treat for my favorite helper."

Isaac's huge blue eyes lit up and he immediately started to eat the confection, savoring it as much as his enthusiasm would allow. It was rare that his mother granted him this luxury, and he smiled at her as a thank you.

Coming down the path in the opposite direction was Ida, Dora's neighbor and the mayor's daughter-in-law. Her short red hair was partially hidden beneath a kerchief as usual, and she was carrying an empty basket. Ida currently had two children, and her son Garet was the same age as Isaac. Both mothers had thought that their boys would be playmates, but that idea had fallen through after the discovery…

"Hello, Dora," Ida greeted. "Running errands again?"

"The work never ends," Dora replied with a nod and a polite smile. "You know how it is."

"Yes of course. So many big eaters in my family—even my little Garet has a huge appetite!"

Isaac peeked from behind his mother to see whom she was talking to. Upon spotting the boy, Ida unintentionally took a step back. "Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Why isn't Isaac getting big too!" Her voice was clearly trying to restrain a degree of uneasiness. "Well, I must be going—so many things to do. Take care, Dora!" She disappeared down the path towards the marketplace.

Dora stared after her formerly very close friend and sighed sadly. They'd been estranged for five years now and it never got any easier to cope. She ran her free hand through Isaac's hair and turned back towards her destination.

"Come along, Isaac," she said. "Let's go home."

He followed his mother up the hill, licking his sticky fingers. The fairly modest home sat high above most of Vale, providing an excellent view of the rest of town as well as the huge mountain above. Kyle had built this house with his bare hands when he and Dora had first married. It seemed rather large for a family of three, but then, it had been built in anticipation for a much bigger household.

Since the very beginning, Kyle and Dora had wanted a family. But many long years passed in their marriage and still no child came to them. Just as they'd been ready to give up hope, five years ago they were blessed with Isaac. They'd declared him their little miracle and fell completely in love with him the moment he was born. And then that heartbreaking discovery had come to light…

It hadn't taken long to notice that something was different about Isaac. He seemed a happy and good-natured child, but he never emitted a single sound. He never cried out, never laughed, never cooed like a normal baby. The Great Healer had made the diagnosis.

"Your son is mute," he'd said. "He will never be able to speak or laugh or communicate properly. The gods didn't grant him a voice."

A horrible truth. Their beautiful son was locked in a permanent silence. He would never call them mom or dad, never be a normal boy. Why had this happened to them? All they had ever wanted was a child of their own, and now the only one they'd been granted lacked the means to even communicate.

The rest of the villagers generally felt bad for Kyle and Dora, since everyone had known how they'd longed for a family. However, they also determined that the gods must've withheld Isaac's voice for a very good reason. They maintained that a child who couldn't speak had to have been touched by some kind of evil force and therefore posed a hazard to the whole village. And that meant that the best course of action for all concerned was to dispose of this possible threat.

The final decision fell on the already devastated parents. The memory of what they'd almost done that night continued to haunt both of them.

***Flashback***

"Why does it have to be like this?" Dora asked through her tears. She looked at the infant she cradled tightly in her arms. "Look at him, Kyle—he's so beautiful! He's everything we've ever wanted!"

Kyle nodded sadly and continued the slow walk with his wife to the river. It simultaneously sickened him and broke his heart knowing what they were going to do. Neither of them believed that Isaac was evil. His eyes shone with so much innocence and purity, lacking even the smallest trace of wickedness. But everyone else had made it clear that he'd never be accepted as a citizen of Vale. What kind of life would that be?

"How can we do this?" Dora continued when they'd reached the river. "He's our baby! We'll never have another chance at a family!"

"I know," Kyle said, his voice heavily pained. "But he'll be shunned, scorned and feared for the rest of his life if we keep him. It would be cruel and selfish of us to force that onto him, Dora." He shook his head, obviously trying to hold back his own tears. "This is the kindest thing we can do for him."

She nodded, sobbing quietly as she held her son for the final time. After several moments, she reluctantly handed him to her husband and turned away, still crying. Kyle crouched beside the riverbank.

"We're so sorry, Isaac," he whispered, kissing his forehead. "May the gods have mercy on our souls for this." Slowly, he lowered his arms and his child towards the rushing water. Isaac didn't squirm in the slightest, not even when his skin touched the water. But his eyes, with their penetrating, affecting, and even all-knowing gaze, were full of genuine tears. Kyle saw this and hesitated, feeling his resolve begin to crumble. He tried to continue but couldn't shake off the power of his son's eyes. He quickly jerked back his arms and held Isaac tightly.

"Just tell me when it's over," Dora sobbed.

"I can't do it," Kyle said quietly.

She spun around, looking relieved. "Then…?"

"Maybe it is selfish to keep him, but…" He straightened himself and looked directly at his wife. "Dammit, he's our son! We know that he's not a threat to Vale, so why should we have to bend to everyone else's superstitions? It's not right!"

"No, it's not, but no one else believes that. Isaac will always be an outcast to them."

Kyle nodded. "I know, and they're not going to be fond of us for keeping him either. But how can we just give him up? Being mute doesn't mean we can't love him or that he can't love us." He looked back at Isaac. "It won't be easy, but maybe with time everyone else will change their minds. And no matter what, he'll always have us, right?"

She nodded vigorously, smiling and wiping away her tears. "Right."

***End Flashback***

Dora entered her house, setting her basket on the table and then taking the cloth from her son. Amazingly, he hadn't gotten a trace of his candy on it. "Thank you, Isaac. You can go play outside now if you want. Just stay in the yard and out of the mud, OK?"

He nodded and ventured back out the door. Dora smiled a bit to herself. Many assumed that because Isaac couldn't speak he was unintelligent as well, but nothing could be further from the truth. As far as she could tell, he was quite precocious, able to listen to and carry out complicated instructions, and even count out rather large sums of coins. The only thing he didn't seem to do yet was read or write, but he was only five and would certainly learn those skills when he was older.

Isaac slowly circled around his house. He'd always had to play alone and was used to it, but he still longed for someone his own age to keep him company. Some days he could look further up the hill and see Garet playing in his yard with his sister or with Jenna and Felix—two more kids from the village. But Isaac wasn't allowed to join them. The one time he'd dared to approach the house, Ida had herded her children inside and sent him away.

"Stay away from here, you devil child!" she'd said to him.

Lots of people called him that. He wasn't quite sure what it meant but he knew it wasn't a good name. He didn't understand why everyone hated him so much. Both his mother and father told him to be patient; other people would someday learn to love him as much as they did. But he wondered how long he had to wait.

A fat bullfrog leaped out of the grass nearby, croaking loudly. Isaac spotted it and started to follow it as it hopped. It moved pretty fast for a frog, and he pounced to catch it but missed. Determined, he kept chasing it even as it moved further away from his house. When it had neared the river, he lunged again, falling into the grass, and caught it with both hands.

"That supposed to be your new friend?" said a voice.

Isaac sat up and saw three older boys from town standing above him, each about ten or eleven years of age. He edged away from them a bit.

"How's the mute boy today anyway?" the one who'd spoken before asked. "Oh, that's right—you can't talk!" His cronies snickered.

"Better be careful," said the second boy. "My dad says he's cursed. He might steal your soul or something."

"Yeah," the third agreed. "I heard one of the elders say he'll lead the whole village to destruction someday!"

"Could you really do that?" the first one questioned. Isaac stood up and backed away a few steps. The boys surrounded him to block his progress. "You aren't afraid of us, are you? I thought a devil child had nothing to fear."

Isaac shook his head, shrinking slightly. They all looked so big as they stood over him like this, and he didn't like their mocking tones. His frog croaked, wiggling in his hands. The first boy reached down and snatched it away.

"Lucky thing we came along," he said. "This poor frog could've been in a lot of danger."

"Right," the second said. "What do you think you're doing trying to hurt this poor thing anyway?"

"Stupid kid," said the third boy. "He should know better than to mess around with innocent creatures."

The first boy tossed the frog into the river, then leaned in close to Isaac. "You don't belong here, mute boy. Why don't you just run away—go back to whatever evil place you came from?"

Isaac tried his best to harden his expression, to not be intimidated by these bullies. They started pushing him around amongst themselves, taunting him with the usual array of bad names. "Devil! Demon! Stupid mute!" And then someone else appeared in the distance. Since they didn't want to be caught, the boys ran away, but not before shoving Isaac face first into a huge mud puddle nearby.

"Isaac?" he heard a familiar voice say. He spat out the dirty water and wiped the mud from his eyes. He looked up to see his father standing above him. Kyle frowned after the three boys but there wasn't really anything he could do about them now. Sighing, he bent down and lifted his son out of the puddle. "Are you OK? Those bullies didn't hurt you, did they?"

He shook his head lightly but his blue eyes looked sad. Kyle offered a reassuring smile and took him back home. The pleasant aroma of roasting meat and vegetables was wafting from the kitchen.

"That you, Kyle?" came Dora's voice.

"Who else?" he asked. "Something sure smells good in here."

"That would be dinner," Dora said, appearing from the kitchen. She caught sight of Isaac and gasped. "Oh, Isaac look at you—you're filthy! I asked you to stay out of the mud!"

"It's not his fault," said Kyle. "He was shoved into a puddle by some kids. Saw it with my own eyes."

"Nasty wretches," she muttered. "Did they hurt you, honey?"

Isaac traced the shape of an X over his heart, a gesture that his parents knew all too well. He did that whenever someone called him a name or otherwise hurt his feelings. The single action spoke a thousand words, as did his eyes. His mother wiped at his face with the corner of her apron and kissed his forehead.

"Don't listen to a word they say, Isaac," she said kindly. "They just don't understand, but they will someday. Now let's get you cleaned up."

************

"Is he asleep?" Dora asked.

"Out like a light," Kyle replied, regarding the small body in his lap. He set his book aside and leaned further back in his chair, keeping an arm protectively around his son. "I wish there was a way we could keep those pesky kids away from him."

"Me too. But nothing short of confining him to the house would work. No one else in Vale cares if Isaac's bullied or not. He's nothing at all to any of them." Her voice sounded deeply saddened at this cruel fact.

Kyle nodded, sighing. "Five years of this and nothing's changed. I thought that at least a few of the villages would've come around by now. I just can't understand it."

Dora seated herself on the arm of his chair. "I can't understand it either. Are they so blind that they can't see how wonderful he is?" She smiled slightly at Isaac, who was the very picture of childish innocence as he slept in his father's lap, unaffected by the world around him. At least he could be free of the hatred sometimes.

"You know what bothers me most of all?" Kyle questioned.

"What?"

"That we can see he's hurting but he can't tell us why or how badly. He has to keep all of his pain inside. How can a child cope with that?"

His wife could only shrug. "I know what you mean. It breaks my heart to look at him day after day and see that sorrow in his eyes. Offering him the same reassurances over and over again doesn't seem like enough."

"And yet it's all we can do. It's all we've ever been able to do." He lightly squeezed Isaac's little form. "I only hope that it is enough for him."

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Good? Crappy? Feel free to review at your leisure. I'll post the next chapter soon (I hope). And yes, I'm still planning to do an Ivan/Sheba story at some point, but I've been sitting on this idea for a while now and I just had to write it before I went nuts!