Alright, my first legit fanfic for the site! Hopefully this goes over well, and I can keep on writing more in the future.

Anyways, this story is sorta my take on the canon between TLA and Dark Dawn.

Disclaimer: I don't own Golden Sun or any of its characters. If I did, then there would be no question of whether DD should have a sequel.

So here we go!

What is Happiness?

Prologue: Sadness

The cool, autumn sun rose over the peaks of the Goma mountain range, illuminating the somewhat barren land surrounding the now active Mt. Aleph's large vicinity. Despite the rising of the sun, it was already late in the morning, and things were bustling over at the lookout cabin on Goma Plateau.

The cabin looked like a serene place where one could safely view the hazardous activity of Mt. Aleph from afar, but on this day it was a hectic place. From outside the cabin, one could hear the screaming of children…

"Ouch, Tyrell! That hurts!" shrieked a young girl. "Let go of my hair!"

"But it's such a weird colour," replied the young boy known as Tyrell, still gripping Karis's ponytail. "You're the only person who has green hair."

Three-year-old Matthew had been playing peacefully with his friends before, but had stopped when his best friend had impulsively grabbed Karis's hair. "Tyrell don't! She'll tell on you!"

"Fine," answered Tyrell. Sighing, he released Karis from his grip, and was immediately pushed over by her.

"I'm still gonna tell on you!" She chanted, running down the hall into the other room.

"Oh n-no, Matthew," Tyrell stuttered, tears beginning to form in his eyes, "w-w-what am I gonna do? My d-dad is gonna be mad, and he'll t-take away my t-t-toys!" Sobbing, he started to push his blocks, trains, stuffed djinn, and other toys under the couch in a feeble, toddler-minded attempt to hide them, thinking that his father would not be able to take them away.

Matthew didn't know what to say to him. He wasn't much of a talker, but Karis and Tyrell could usually pick up on what he was getting at with a simple facial expression. After all, he mused, he was a big boy, and big kids understood each other like grown-ups did. He could hear Karis being a tattletale from where he was sitting. His lips curved up into a smirk. Tyrell and Karis were always bickering with each other, so rather than take sides with one of them, Matthew liked to stay out of their affairs and watch the madness unfold.

"Uncle Garet," she whined, "Tyrell was being mean and he pulled my hair. Then he said it was a weird colour." She was using her innocent voice to make him sympathize with her.

"Well, Karis, that doesn't sound very nice at all," Garet replied, his voice deep and booming. "Why don't we go have a chat with him together? Maybe then you three can start playing nice again, okay?"

"Okay Uncle Garet!" Truthfully, she just wanted to see what kind of trouble Tyrell would get into, and the two boys knew it.

The wooden floor creaked as Garet and Karis began walking out of the other room to speak with Tyrell. Matthew could see that Tyrell was afraid. His breathing became quick and panicky while he desperately began to shove his toys into hiding spots: under the couch, under the rug, behind the bookshelf, anywhere he could think of. As they were getting closer, Tyrell suddenly got an idea. He raised his hands in front of the large remaining number of his toys, and turned to Matthew. Matthew had an idea of what the grinning boy was thinking of doing, and nodded in approval.

"I'm gonna do it this time, Matthew! If our dads can do it, then we can too!" With that Tyrell scrunched his face up and tried to concentrate. "MOVE!" he shouted, but the toys stayed in place. "Huh? I said move! Movemovemovemovemove!" he shouted frantically, but the toys wouldn't budge.

Matthew was pretty certain that this wouldn't work because neither of them had successfully performed psynergy before. Although Matthew wasn't bothered by his current lack of power, Tyrell was always frustrated by the fact that he couldn't do anything simple like move a pebble with his mind. It didn't help that Karis had already shown that she could blow leaves around in little twisters; something she constantly did to annoy Tyrell. Matthew suddenly had an idea for Tyrell to use when-

"Tyreeeeeeelllllll!" came Karis's cheerfully mischievous voice; interrupting Matthew's train of thought and making him forget his idea. "Your daddy has something to say to you!"

Tyrell's face went ghostly white as he slowly raised his head to look at them. Wide-eyed and shaking, he gulped and slumped back into a sitting position. Karis smirked at him with an extremely smug look of triumph on her face. Garet stood cross-armed, staring at his son; noticing the mess he had made around the room. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the front door opened.

Isaac stepped in, head down, adorning his trademark yellow scarf and a large blue trench coat that he had acquired some time ago during his travels. Garet, quickly forgetting the matter at hand, turned to Isaac.

"Hey, Isaac, where've you been all morning? Did you forget that you were supposed to watch the kids while I was finishing that errand for Ivan?"

Isaac glanced up at the scene, but immediately looked back down as he closed the door behind him, "Oh, uh, sorry, Garet…I went over to Patcher's for a bit. I guess I lost track of time." His voice was gloomy, and, as a whole, Isaac was looking rather depressed. Sensing this, Garet decided not to push it any further.

"…Uh, okay then. Just lemme know next time you go out…at least then I can keep an eye on them if I know you're gone."

"Yeah, sorry again," Isaac responded. It was obvious that he had his mind on other things and had simply said that out of instinct. Hanging his coat on the rack, Isaac crept upstairs without saying another word. Everyone's eyes followed him until they heard his footsteps stop, meaning he was in his room. Everyone was silent for a while. It may have only been seconds, but it seemed as though they were standing there for a long time before a light tug on his pant leg brought Garet back to reality.

"Uncle Garet, what about Tyrell?" Karis asked when he glanced down at her. Tyrell glared at her for bringing it back up, but she simply stuck her tongue out at him.

"Huh? Oh right, umm," he pondered for a second, though he was really wondering why Isaac had looked so upset, "Tyrell, don't do it again. And clean up this mess you made."

Karis's mouth dropped open. That was it?! Tyrell did two bad things and he wasn't getting in any trouble?!

Tyrell's fearful expression quickly changed into a look of relief. "Okay, Papa, I'll be good now." Garet gave him a half smile, and then turned to go talk with Isaac.

Matthew, who had been quiet through all of this, suddenly hopped off his chair and ran towards Garet before he started up the stairs. "Uncle Garet, what's wrong with my dad?" he asked, tugging at Garet's pant leg.

Garet, slightly bewildered that one as young as Matthew had picked up on it, shook his head unknowingly. "I dunno, buddy. Let's go ask him ourselves," answered Garet, but Matthew was quick to respond.

"No, wait!" shouted Matthew when Garet took a step towards the staircase. "I wanna go talk to him by myself! You can help Tyrell with his psygee."

Garet smiled at Matthew's mispronunciation of 'psynergy' and marveled at his strong determination. He's surprisingly mature for a three-year-old. Sol, he's mature compared to a seventeen-year-old! I guess he really is his father's son. He's just as stubborn as Jenna too; guess that says a lot about his personality. Garet thought to himself, bringing up memories of his adventures with Isaac and the other Warriors of Vale. "Okay Matthew," said Garet, "I'll go play with Karis and Tyrell until you come back. If you need anything, just shout for me."

"Okay, Uncle Garet, I will."

"Well, I better go break those two up now," stated Garet, referring to Karis and Tyrell, who had begun arguing again.

"Haha Karis! I didn't get in trouble!"

"Don't be a butthead, Tyrell!"

"If I'm a butthead, then you're a pooface Karis!"

Garet sighed and patted Matthew on the back before turning back towards the ever-bickering toddlers. Matthew walked towards the staircase and clambered up the steps. When he reached the top, the door to his father's room was cracked open, and Matthew could see his father sitting hunched over on his bed; his head down, eyes glistening, and his hands folded between his knees. Slowly, he toddled over to the door and pushed it open. The blinds on the window were drawn, but it looked as though they had been rattled by the wind too much, and bits of light shone through. There were bottles lying around the room: some old, some fairly new, and one that looked as though it had just been opened. The drawer on his bedside table was open and it contained private documents that looked as though they had been read many times. Isaac looked up at the sound of the door creaking, surprised to see his son instead of Garet.

"Matthew, what are you doing up here?" Isaac asked shakily, wiping his eyes, "Your friends are downstairs. Don't you want to play with them?"

Matthew ignored his father's question. Instead he tilted his head in confusion and sadness. "Dada, why are you crying? Grown-ups aren't a'sposed to cry!"

Isaac was unprepared for his son to say that. Taking a second to regain his composure, Isaac sniffled, "I…I wasn't crying, Matthew. I'm just tired." Isaac knew he shouldn't lie to his son, but Matthew wouldn't know, after all, he was only three.

Matthew wasn't going to give up though. His persistent nature caused him to keep pushing Isaac further, "But Dada, you didn't bring us back something from Mr. Patcher's house! You only go there when you're getting stuff, unless you're sad."

It was true. Isaac typically only went to Patcher's place if he was on business, and he always brought treats back for Matthew and Tyrell. On occasion, though, he had gone there when he was feeling down about some matter or other to get a few drinks, and he didn't bring any treats back on these trips. He never suspected that this was something that his infant son would have noticed.

Before his father could answer, something shiny caught Matthew's eye. He glanced at his father's hands to see what looked like some sort of locket that was glinting in the sun shining through the damaged blinds. A beautiful sea-blue jewel and a different honey-coloured jewel were fit on one side: each forming half of a heart. The other side had a picture of a young Isaac and a girl who Matthew didn't recognize. Cutting off his father Matthew asked, "What's that Dada? I've never seen it before."

Isaac noticed that he was still holding the pendant and quickly stashed it away in his bedside drawer. "It-It's nothing Matthew. Just a…uh…a gift that I received a long time ago." However, Isaac still underestimated Matthew's attention to detail.

"It's a really pretty looking present. Did Mama give you that? Is that who the girl in the picture was? When I see pictures of Mama when she was a kid they didn't look like that girl."

Damn it! Thought Isaac, I had no idea Matthew could read faces so quickly. I'm so stupid for not putting it away when he came in!

"No, Matthew, it…it's not from Jenna…your mother I mean…it's from someone else," answered Isaac, pretty unsure of himself and how to continue, "Someone I met a long time ago. The girl in the picture is…well you've never met her before."

"Oh," Matthew responded childishly, "I just thought it would be from Mama because there's a heart in it and mamas and dadas are supposed to love each other, right?"

Isaac was at a loss for words. How could he continue? It was difficult enough to make up a story for why he didn't live with Jenna, but to explain to Matthew that love doesn't always work out seemed like too much for a child to understand. "Matthew," Isaac began, a sensible answer getting caught in his throat, "it's a pretty long story. I don't think that I-"

"A story?!" shouted Matthew, ignoring all other signs of his father's anguish (he is a toddler after all). "I wanna hear it, Dada! You should tell it to everyone!" and with that, Matthew took his father by the hand and started dragging him out the door.

"W-wait a second, Matthew!" Isaac called, but it was no use. Matthew was tugging as hard as he could, and despite the fact that Isaac could have easily stopped him, he didn't want to hurt Matthew by risking him falling down the stairs. So, reluctantly, Isaac followed him down to the hearth where the others were playing.

"Tyrell! Give that block back to me! I was playing with it first!"

"No you weren't, Karis! It was sitting on the floor while you were playing with the djinn stuffies!"

"Yeah but I was using it! Uncle Garet!"

"Oh will you two stop for one second! Please, I'm begging you! Every time I get you to settle down it's 'Tyrell this' and 'Karis that'! I'm getting a headache!"

"But, Papa, Karis started it!"

"No I didn't! Me, Gust, and Breeze were playing and you stole our block!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH"

Karis screamed and they stopped fighting immediately: staring in fear at Garet's red face. It seemed that losing his temper with them was the most effective way to make them stop arguing about everything.

"Guys guys!" Matthew exclaimed, bouncing on the spot at the bottom of the stairs. Everyone looked up to see him doing a funny little dance while clutching a rather flustered looking Isaac's hand. "My Dada says he has a story to tell!"

"Wait a second; I never said I would tell it, Matthew! I just said that it was a long story!" Isaac desperately tried reasoning with Matthew. Unfortunately for him, everyone else seemed to be onboard for hearing a long story.

"A story?!" shouted Tyrell. "Oh pleeeeeaaaase, won't you tell us Uncle Isaac?"

"I love stories!" exclaimed a giddy Karis, already jumping up and down. In her excitement, she caused a light breeze to blow in through one of the windows.

"Looks like you're in a pretty tight spot here, Isaac," laughed Garet teasingly, but not wanting to provoke him. "What's this all about, anyways?"

Isaac sighed. He knew that there was no way that this would go over well. If he refused to tell the story, it would upset all the kids, and he couldn't bring himself to do that. If he told the story they probably wouldn't understand how the whole love deal works anyways. Guess I might as well tell them. Hopefully they won't think about it too much. After all, they're still basically babies.

"Remember that…thing that you-know-who gave me years back?" explained Isaac.

"Oh, now I see," returned Garet after thinking for a moment, his smile fading. "Isaac, you don't have to tell them that story if it's too painful."

"No," Isaac said sternly, "my son deserves to know, even if he may not remember this someday." He looked down at Matthew and ruffled his son's already messy hair. "It's quite a long story, though. Karis, you might not be here for the entire thing."

"Yes I will, Uncle Isaac," Karis answered nonchalantly. "My daddy says he won't be here to pick me up until tomorrow. Uncle Garet said I could sleep in Matthew and Tyrell's room."

"Alright, I guess you should all get comfortable then," started Isaac.

"Wait Dada!" shouted Matthew who ran off and clumsily climbed the stairs. Everyone watched as he slowly inched himself back down, holding the railing bars for support, the locket in hand. "I wanna show my friends so they know why you're telling a story, Dada."

Initially, Isaac tensed up at the thought of them all examining his locket; after all, like Matthew, they knew that Matthew's mother was Jenna. However, he figured that if he was going to tell them an entire story about the subject, they may as well be shown the story's embodiment.

"Oooooooh, it's so pretty!" cooed Karis. "Uncle Isaac, is this a love story?"

Isaac's mouth curled up into a slight smile. "Yes, Karis. I thought you might be interested." He sat down in the single chair facing the couch where his small audience was sitting.

"How romantic!" Karis went goo-goo-eyed and instinctively grabbed Tyrell's hand, leaning her small body against his.

"Yuck!" gagged Tyrell, sticking out his tongue and trying to get away from Karis, but she refused to let go, snuggling up and getting cozy beside him on the couch. "Papa, help me!"

Garet laughed heartily, "Oh, Tyrell, one day you'll be begging for a pretty girl, like Karis, to cuddle by the fireplace with you." Tyrell looked up at him like he was crazy, and faced Isaac again, a discontented frown plastered on his face.

Matthew, holding the locket in one hand and his favourite stuffed djinni, Flint, in the other, sat on the other side of Karis, anxiously waiting for his father to begin the story.

"Well, then," Isaac cleared his throat, "the story begins at the end of our adventure…"

Obviously, you guys probably weren't expecting to hear a lot about Matthew, Karis, and Tyrell: what with this being a mudshipping fic, but if you read this chapter thoroughly enough, I hope that I made it clear what sort of direction this is going to take.

Also, I realize that it may have seemed strange how fully the kids are speaking and Matthew's intellectual level since they're only three. I guess my answer for that is that I wanted them to be old enough that they knew how to talk, but young enough that they didn't really understand a concept of what love is (except for Karis somewhat). Yeah I know you can't really know love when you're four or five either, but another thing is that I thought the Karis/Tyrell cuddling might seem cuter if they were younger, so sue me.

R&R, but please go easy on me (it's my first fic after all :P)

-GengaJupite