A Different Kind of Innocence

By: V.S. Windheart

Well, here I am! Back again with a brand-new fic! ^_^ Before I launch into it, I have a LOT to say, so bear with me.

First, to my new readers:

Go read "Blaze." This fic will make a lot more sense if you do that first.

And to my old friends:

^___^ I'm happy to be back with something other than a one-shot for once! I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is, the excellent Empress Dotdotdot has very kindly agreed to become my beta reader, so this fic should be top quality!

The bad news is, it's not going to be updated nearly as often as "Blaze." Why? It's a combination of several factors. First, the beta-reading process takes a LOT of time. I have to write the chapter, proofread it several times, send it to Dotdotdot-chan, have her read it over, and send it back to me. Then I'll make the changes, proofread it AGAIN, and e-mail it to her. She'll then proofread it AGAIN, make any last suggestions, and give it back. Then I make any last-minute changes, answer any reviews, and post it!

As well, both Dotdotdot-chan and I are very busy people. Very, verrry busy. . . . X_X And with "Blaze," I had half-finished the fic before I had even published so much of a word on the site. Here . . . besides this chapter, I've Chapter Two half-written. I kind of slacked off in the last few months, and it caught up.

My final excuses are that a) I'm writing a full fic as a Christmas present and b) I need to submit a one-shot to Vilya's One-Shot Panoply before January 1, which is a heck of a lot sooner than you might imagine.

So there you have it! I've only written a little in this, and already I'm enjoying it very much. Hopefully I'll be able to manage at least one update every couple of weeks, and maybe even less, depending on Dotdotdot-chan's and my schedules.

Oh, I almost forgot! I've decided that since my plugs section doesn't really get read, every chapter, I'll recommend either one fic or two one-shots. It's up to you if you read them, but since I only recommend top-notch fics, it'd probably be in your best interests if you did. ^_~ The plug of the update is:

"The Lighter Side of Darkness," by Empress Dotdotdot. And this isn't to suck up to her for being a great beta reader, either! ^_^ It's the events of Golden Sun through Felix's eyes, including a positive spin on Saturos and Menardi ( ^_^ ). Angsty, though, just to warn you.

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this fic to my Weird Sister, Dotdotdot-chan. You're one of the truest friends I have--thank you.

. . .

And now the fic!

~ * * * ~

Felix stared down in horror as Sheba's grip on the lighthouse edge weakened. He struggled to pull her up to him. He needed to lean forward to pull her up, but couldn't--he would unbalance and both would fall if he did so.

Sheba's eyes suddenly widened; her fingers slipped imperceptibly. "Felix . . . thank you for everything. I--" Then she was gone, hurtling down towards the ocean that would claim her forever.

"SHEBA!" Felix screamed as she slipped out of his grasp. He didn't hesitate even for a single second. He dove, stretching out his fingers, willing himself to fall faster, to reach her before she hit the water.

He didn't make it. A large wave swelled, swallowing Sheba as he watched. The wind whipped his hair straight back, made his eyes tear. He blinked, shook his head, and then held his breath as he hit the water with incredible force.

The shock of the freezing water almost made him gasp and lose his air supply, but he suppressed the urge and then searched for Sheba. There she was, below him, bogged down by her clothing and thrashing uselessly.

She can't swim, Felix realized in cold horror.

He thrust his arms out and away from himself, kicking steadily with his legs as he descended into the lightless depths of the sea.

Hurry, hurry, his mind urged him.

Sheba's struggles were weaker now; she was passing out from a lack of oxygen. Felix gave one more push and then his long fingers locked around her wrist.

He rocketed to the surface with a gasp, supporting the now-unconscious Sheba. He coughed and tried to rub the salt water out of his eyes with one hand. Already the current had carried them so far from shore that land was just a speck on the horizon. He treaded water for a moment.

What to do? he asked himself. He got no answer.

Sheba . . . is she still breathing? he wondered in panic. He listened carefully for the sound that meant life for her . . . and him.

If Sheba dies, then I don't think--

"Felix!"

Felix blinked twice. The tempestuous ocean vanished and Jenna's irked face came into focus, not even a hand-span away. He wasn't swimming any more, saving Sheba. He was in Daila's inn, and Jenna looked ready to punch him.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Ah . . . yes, Jenna?"

"Sheesh, Felix! You must've been seriously spaced out." Jenna settled back into her chair. "I was trying to tell you that the innkeeper's wife said that the food's almost ready. I must have called your name at least half a dozen times!"

Felix shook his head to get rid of the last traces of the memory. "Sorry, Jenna. I was thinking."

"Well, next time, could you do your thinking when other people aren't around?" she demanded.

"Yeah, it's rude to ignore others that way, Felix," Sheba chimed in.

"Oh, look, our meal's here," Kraden quickly announced, trying to halt the developing argument.

The innkeeper plunked four plates of some unidentified mess on the table and left quickly, perhaps trying to avoid the inevitable complaints at the unappetizing meal.

Sheba used her fork to lift a stringy green . . . something . . . out of the heap. "Gross!" She wrinkled her small nose. "Are we supposed to eat this or thatch a house with it?"

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Felix regarded it dubiously. "I mean, it's just like the cooking in Prox. We didn't have much to work with since we were so far north, so we kind of had to make do with what we could find." He took a small bite and made a face. "Maybe I'm out of practice," he managed in a strangled voice.

"Well, it can't be any worse than the night Menardi took it upon herself to cook a meal." Jenna tried to look on the bright side. She tasted the food and nearly spat it out again. "Whoa . . . Menardi has competition."

"I don't see why everyone's so upset. It's not too bad." Kraden chewed pensively.

" . . . You're joking, right?" Sheba eventually inquired as they stared at him.

"No! I'm completely serious!" Kraden protested.

"He isn't human!" Jenna flung up her arms in mock terror.

"I already knew that," Sheba kidded.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The innkeeper shouted over the generally discontented mumblings. "I would now like to present our dinner theatre! A traditional dance of Daila, performed by two most talented women! So turn your attention to the front, sit back, and watch the show."

"Anything's better than eating this junk," Jenna muttered, abandoning her meal. "Hmm . . . maybe not," she amended as the routine got underway.

As far as Felix could tell, the dance involved a great deal of twirling on the spot and hopping in the air. However, the two women were spectacularly uncoordinated, and were completely out of sync with each other. The first one spun herself dizzy and had to sit down. The second--the innkeeper's wife--bravely tried to keep going, but landed badly coming down from one of the jumps. She ended up twisting her ankle, thereby putting herself out of commission for the evening. The whole offering earned a mere smattering of clapping from the politer members of the audience.

"Uh, if there's anyone who could possibly provide us with a little entertainment? Please?" the innkeeper begged, as the crowd seemed to be becoming mutinous. "Supper's on the house if you do!"

Sheba grabbed Jenna's wrist and hauled it in the air.

"What? No! Sheba!" Jenna broke free of the fourteen-year-old's grasp and tried to pretend she didn't exist.

"Do you really want to pay for the thatching we've been eating?" Sheba hissed. She batted her eyelashes innocently. "I mean, it'll be less money for the important things in life, like clothes and cosmetics . . . ." She seemed to be struggling to keep a smirk from her face.

Before Jenna could respond, the innkeeper cried out, "And the redhead from the corner table volunteers! Thank you!" His relief was unnerving.

With a fearsome glare at Sheba--who was now openly grinning--Jenna rose from her seat and pushed her way to the front.

"And what's your name, miss?" the harassed host queried.

"Jenna." The Mars Adept's face was the colour of her element.

"What are you going to do to entertain us?" It's like I'm ripping each individual syllable from her throat, the man mused gloomily. How good could she possibly be?

"I'm going to sing. This is something a couple of friends of mine wrote." With that curt introduction, Jenna's beautiful voice slid into the smooth melody that Saturos had written upon visiting Imil. Sheba had recently begun composing words to fit the Proxian's songs. This one spoke of the peace and serenity of the village, and the crisp beauty of the north, which the Laliveran had learned from descriptions from her travelling companions.

When the last gorgeous note escaped Jenna's lips, there was a brief silence, followed by a huge burst of applause. Cries of "more!" and "wonderful!" could be heard from all over the room.

"Fabulous, Jenna! Please sing us something else!" The look on the innkeeper's face indicated that it was an order and not a request.

Jenna scowled again at the giggling Sheba, who was safely tucked away in her corner. She was going to get her for this . . . .

* * *

"All right, everyone. Here's what I think we should do," Felix began.

Later that evening, once the meal was over and the sun had set, Felix had requested that everyone meet in the room he shared with Kraden. He had been thinking long and hard about what they should do next, and wanted to lay out his plans in front of everyone.

"You remember that Menardi and Saturos had said that if we were ever separated, we would try to meet up at the next lighthouse, right?" He received nods of agreement. "Well, I think we should probably wait here a couple of weeks, just in case. I'm sure that they'll catch up quite quickly."

"Do you think they won the battle?" Sheba queried.

Felix's face grew sad. "I certainly hope so. Very few people have the ability to defeat them. I would have said that Isaac was not one of them, except for what happened on top of Mercury Lighthouse." He tried to force himself to be cheerful. "But I'm sure Menardi and Saturos will be joining us quite shortly.

"We do have one problem, though."

"What?" Jenna asked with suspicion.

"Money," Felix answered succinctly. "Remember how Saturos looked after our funds, since he had the best head for numbers? I've only got my small stock of emergency money. I think we had better pool our coins for now. Also, we all need to upgrade our weapons and armour. Now that our three best fighters are missing for the time being, it's up to us to defend ourselves--something I hadn't planned on."

"Wonderful." Jenna dug around in her travelling pack and came up with a handful of coins. She dropped them into Felix's lap. "Well, here's all that I've got."

Sheba and Kraden also turned over their money. When Felix had counted everything, it turned out that they had not quite two hundred and fifty coins.

Sheba made a face. "Yeah, we're going to survive really long on two hundred coins between four people."

"Well, at least we're eating for free." Kraden attempted to be positive.

"Aw, no! I'm not going to sing for our suppers and that's final!" Jenna folded her arms for emphasis.

"Please, Jenna?" Felix wheedled. He gave her his best big-brother smile. "It would be a really big help."

"Uh-uh."

"Jenna . . ." Sheba started to complain.

"We'll give you the best of the food if you do . . ." Felix promised.

"Hey, Felix! I never said--" Sheba began.

Felix gave her a quick don't-spoil-this-please look and Sheba quieted.

"Well, okay, but you had all better appreciate this," Jenna threatened them. "Anyway, I'm going to bed. Coming, Sheba?"

"Uh-huh. Goodnight, Felix, Kraden."

"Goodnight," the two chorused.

Once the girls had left, Felix made his preparations and climbed into bed, his mind occupied with a dilemma.

If I buy supplies, I can paint pictures and sell them for money, he thought. But I need money to buy paints, but I need to paint pictures to get money, but . . . argh! He clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned. Maybe things would look clearer in the morning.

* * *

In the end, their money only lasted long enough to stay for a week. They could have remained in Daila longer, but while Jenna's singing did provide them with free meals, the cost of renting a room still strained their funds, and they had used their coins to buy better weapons and armour. Because of this, they were forced to move along.

As they set out from the small village, Felix commented, "We should probably travel a little slowly. I'm not sure how far south Daila is from Lalivero, but it stands to reason that Saturos and Menardi would have trouble making the crossing in only a week."

"Yeah," Jenna agreed. "What a pain, though. I want to get to the last two lighthouses as soon as possible, because I am sick to death of camping all the time!"

"It can't be helped, though," Sheba remarked, walking faster to catch up to them. "And it looks like we're going to be camping a lot more, unless we can find some monsters and take their coins from them." She frowned. "Incidentally, what are monsters doing with money, anyway? It's not like they can exactly walk into a shop and buy whatever they want."

"Maybe they like the shininess of the gold," Felix suggested, and shrugged. "Oh well. Just one of the mysteries of life."

* * *

As the next few weeks passed, certain terrible, doubting thoughts came to Felix, though he tried to push them out of his mind. However, one evening, when he was on the second shift of the night watch, the ideas invaded and forced him to confront what he had feared the most.

"They can't be . . . dead," he whispered, sitting on a fallen log. "They were the best fighters in all of Prox. Nobody could beat them."

Except Isaac, his mind taunted.

"But Isaac wouldn't kill them--would he?" However, the answer was there. Isaac passionately loved Vale and would do anything to protect his home.

"But . . . murder?"

Yes. If he felt the need, then Isaac may very well have killed them in what he mistakenly thought of as his quest to save the world. He would think of their slaying as justified for his noble cause, and not the cold-blooded murder it actually was.

"No . . . no!" Felix covered his face with his hands. Against his will, smiling images of Saturos and Menardi appeared in his head. They had been such kind, caring people, so very much in love. They had given him a home when he had thought he had been orphaned. And now . . .

They were gone. Gone for all eternity.

Felix began to weep. At first, he felt shame at crying as a grown man, but then he remembered the first night he had met Menardi and Saturos, after they had saved his life. Their grief had been open and free at the loss of their closest friends.

The thought of the two only made him sob that much harder. He stuffed a gloved fist in his mouth to stifle the sound, not wanting to disturb the others. He didn't want to share his terrible knowledge with them.

"Felix?" Sheba's voice softly inquired, arriving in the clearing in which he sat.

Felix rubbed at his eyes, tried to slow his tears. Yet they stubbornly refused to stop. "Sheba, you should be back in bed." His voice was low and pained.

Instead, Sheba sat next to him on the log. "What's the matter, Felix? Is everything all right?"

I don't want to burden her, he thought. "Everything's fine. I was just being silly."

"Felix, you're never silly," she assured him pragmatically. "You wouldn't get this upset unless something was seriously wrong. Tell me. If it's a secret, I won't say a word to anyone else."

Felix stared down at his hands, which were entwined in his lap. He didn't want to tell her, but he knew he had to say something at some point in the future. It was useless concealing such things from Sheba--she would only use Mind Read on him if he still refused to fill her in.

"Sheba . . . I think--I think Saturos and Menardi are . . . dead." His voice cracked on the last word.

"No . . ." Sheba stared at him, green eyes wide. "You're mistaken, aren't you? This can't be true!"

"I wish I was wrong, but I've been thinking this over. If they were alive, they would have found us by now. It's been too long. Isaac . . . I've known him for all his life. If he thought there was a great need, he would kill. And I guess . . . he saw reason to . . . do so."

Sheba watched Felix's face for signs that he was anything but serious. None came. His face was still and heavy, filled completely with a nearly unbearable sadness.

Her own face took on a brittle, cold cast. Without a word, she rose and returned to her bed, waiting for tears to come. But her tears remained frozen at the corners of her eyes, like ice.

She didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

~ * * * ~

Vyctori: Well, there we go! Another fic started.

Menardi: At least you actually finish your fics; I'll say that about you.

Vyctori: Menardi actually said something nice about me? This calls for a celebration! Break out the chocolate!

Menardi: I think you're exaggerating about the need for a celebration, but I never say no to chocolate.

*doorbell rings*

Vyctori: Aw, drat. Menardi, could you get that while I find the chocolate?

Menardi: Get it yourself; I'm not a doorperson!

Vyctori: -_-;; Fine. *goes to next room and opens door*

Alex: Greetings. I am your new muse. *enters*

Vyctori: O_O {!!!) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! *shoves Alex out the door and then leans against it* Orororororo. . . .

Menardi: *mouth full of chocolate* 'oowuhi? *swallows* Who was it?

Vyctori: *beginning to hyperventilate* It was--

Alex: --I. I informed Vyctori that I am her new muse.

Vyctori: HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!

Alex: *smirks* Teleport is a very useful ability.

Vyctori: NONONONONONONONO!!! *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut* ...

Menardi: *watching and eating chocolate* Well, this is amusing.

*half an hour later*

Alex: *teleports back inside*

Vyctori: *shoves Alex out the door and slams door shut*

Menardi: *has finished all the chocolate in the house* You know, I think you're just going to have to accept that you're stuck with him.

Vyctori: *still going strong* No! I refuse to have my least favourite Golden Sun character as a muse!

Alex: *ditto* What have I ever done to you to merit such an unflattering opinion?

Vyctori: *stops and stares* You insulted four of my five favourite characters in the Champa scene, used everyone in the entire game, tried to take over the world with Alchemy, and were and are a general slimeball!

Menardi: *ironically* Is that all?

Alex: Perhaps if I explained my reason for being here, you may be more open towards my presence.

Vyctori: *snorts*

Alex: *raises eyebrows* I was hired by a number of readers who are most displeased with your recent laxity in updates. You used to post a chapter of whichever fanfiction upon which you were working every three to four days. Now you update only once a week, if that. We feel that you have become immune to Menardi's most crude method--

Menardi: *frowning menacingly* Hey, watch your mouth, Alchemy boy.

Alex: *ignoring her* --of, shall I say, encouraging you to update. Therefore, all parties involved felt that you needed a new muse to aid you in returning to your previous update schedule.

Vyctori: And they sent me YOU? Boy, they must have been mad!

Alex: So I am here to stay. Where exactly am I to sleep, may I inquire?

Vyctori: The streets. *sighs* I've got one last guest room remaining. Any more muses, and we'll have to start doubling up.

Menardi: *brightens* I wonder if I can encourage Saturos to. . . .

Vyctori: NO.

Menardi: ## Well, now that you've seen this chapter, you had better review it. I'm in a particularly foul mood, and I've just had all the chocolate in the house. . . .

Vyctori: MENARDI!

Menardi: . . . so you had best do what I say. Do I even need to add the 'or else'?

Vyctori: And to those readers who hired Alex, I have a personal message to give: You are so doomed. I mean it.