Our Unforgivable Sins Chapter 1: Prologue: Unburied Sentiments, a golden sun fanfic

Title: Our Unforgivable Sins

Genre: Romance/Tragedy

Rating: M

Warnings: Incest. Violence, gore and sexual themes. Major character death and mentions of suicide. Not for the faint-hearted.

A/N: My own contribution to the abysmally unpopular Oopsies-ship, along with a liberal dose of (mostly one-sided) Valeshipping, as is the incorrigible tendency of mine. Beware of the Romeo-Juliet undertones though, which had – unintentionally, I assure you! – crept their way into the story. A multi-chaptered piece of middling length, and incidentally, my first foray into GS fanfic.

Disclaimer: Golden Sun is my canvas. Permanently borrowed.

Plot summary: Felix and Jenna commit the most unforgivable sin of all. And Isaac is there to watch the whole sorry tale unfold. Post-TLA.

Prologue – Unburied Sentiments

It has been eight years now.

Eight years. How swiftly time passes. I still remember, with unfailing clarity, the day Mount Aleph erupted – it was the day the Elemental Stars were removed from their sanctuary, and the same day, which the fate of the world was thrust into the hands of a boy. It had seemed like only yesterday, but more than an eternity had passed between now and then. The eruption of Mount Aleph – the Unsealing of Alchemy, that occurred nine years ago. No, I speak of a different tale, perhaps the most tragic tale of all, one that took place in its immediate aftermath.

I was merely a boy then, two years short of the second decade. True, you may still look upon me as a young man – eight years would, by no means, add wizened lines to a face so inexperienced. But how appearances are deceiving, for my heart no longer bears the levity of youth. The events that transpired eight years ago could transform any spring lamb into the weariest, most gnarled of oaks, aged prematurely before their years.

Even they, who were said to be the cause of it all, earned no respite from such grief.

They.

Sinners of the utmost depravity, some would call them, but I prefer the term 'friends'. In spite of what they had done – even I do not claim to deny it – there is no forgetting the warmth of our communion, the joy of the times we had shared. Steadfast allies, they were in battle, quick to defend the unprotected backs of their fellow comrades, a number which I gladly include myself in.

Unable to bear the stain of their disgrace, the world had chosen to forget them. But I have not. And so, I shall recite their unspoken eulogy:

She was fire. The kind that stole the heart with its indefinable beauty, yet smothered those foolish enough to step too close. You know the saying, 'Don't play with fire, or you'll get burnt?' It was exactly like that – none could escape unscathed in an encounter with her. Her temper had widespread repute as the most ferocious of them all, but the hard, determined words she'd utter in danger's grasp could inspire courage unlike any other.

Proud, bold, unafraid to voice her opinion, yet unwilling to show weakness – those were the traits that defined her. Often had she been called 'unladylike', but her passion detracted from her femininity not at all – she was the flame, and men were drawn to her like moths. (Including myself.) She was beautiful, yet indescribably dangerous at the same time; a double-edged sword men would happily pierce their hearts on, just to taste a morsel of her radiance.

And then, there was he.

He was, in the shortest sense of the word, a leader. Indeed, many would drop their swords to follow him – it was the commanding aura of a man who had faced death countless times over, and never gave in. Nonetheless, this wasn't the quality that had so thoroughly earned my respect. Even the staunchest of admirers would abandon their leaders in the face of adversity.

What had earned my respect was the fact that he was steadfast. Perhaps one with a less favourable opinion of him would call him predictable, but his consistency had many a time put me at ease. He was always true to his word, just as he was always fair – allowing everyone full reign of their own opinions and actions, provided that they be well-reasoned. All those under his wing were guaranteed safety – however frail or strong, however brave or timid, it didn't matter. They were all his duty.

Especially her.

And such was the nature of their unforgivable sin. Brother and sister, they were, and lovers, in addition to being unlawful husband and wife. They had committed the worst of treacheries against their own flesh and blood, and for it, paid the ultimate price. Many would say that they deserved no less – that it was a fit tribute to their befouling of their names, their honour as the descendents of the guardians who watched over the Seal of Alchemy for centuries past.

But I digress.

No, it would be an insult to their memory to call them mere victims of fate – they had, after all, played a part in their own demise. But neither were they answerable for everything. Few were the circumstances within their control, and fewer still, the opportunities to escape the confines of their characters, which had dutifully led them to do what they did.

For theirs was a tale of innocent beginnings, of good intentions that had inadvertently gone wrong. Forbidden romance was hardly its starring theme – yet the loyalty of kinship that embodied it went unpraised, unable to travel any route but that of perversion. Loneliness and despair were their constant companions, and heartbreak, neighbouring thunder. Theirs was a tale better known as a scandal, yet one doomed to fade into obscurity.

I do not lie, I do not exaggerate. Perhaps you have heard differently. Perhaps, to you, it was merely a fable told to discomfit the less-than-innocent. But whether it be of two unfortunate siblings sacrificed to some illicit ritual, or of two evil, immoral rogues who sought ill-fame for their own twisted purposes, I shall have to ask that you offer them – not the fictional persons, but my two, beloved friends – one last chance at redemption. Do the dead not deserve to be remembered with dignity, after all?

My request is simply this:

Let me tell you the truth of how they lived, loved, and died.

Let me tell you their story.

A/N: Reviews will be very much appreciated. Ah, heck, I'll just skip the formalities. A simple 'I like it, please continue' or otherwise will be very helpful - as it provides me some indication as to how well this story is being received.