So here's the new story. Sorry for the wait, I've been swamped with schoolwork.

This story takes place in the game Hero of Leaf Valley for PSP. I realize that it's not as popular, but I love it. As soon as I saw Aurelia in the game, I knew I just had to make a story with her. If you don't know who she is, I recommend you read about her on google or wiki, to get a good idea of her character. She is by far my most favourite character in this game. Oh, and Peter is Jack, the main boy character.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Peter's POV

Ugh. What a horrible day. I can't even think straight.

Just yesterday, I got news of my grandfather's death. Though I was away at college, my father insisted that I come home for Grandpa's funeral. Because I trusted my dad, I left my school work, my friends, and my belongings, and went back to my hometown to watch the burial ceremony. I thought I would be going back to school the next day. Little did I know, I wouldn't be going back at all.

I had been close to Grandpa. Throughout my childhood I had spent every weekend at his farm in Leaf Valley where we taught me many things. It was him who taught me to fish, to swim, to cook, to garden, and to take care of animals. I wanted to have a farm just like him when I grew up. He was my idol, and I admired him. That is, I admired him as a child.

Don't get me wrong; I always loved my grandpa, but as I grew older, he just seemed to be less cool. I saw him from time to time, but soon enough I was off to college, studying to become an architect. I no longer had the dream of owning a farm like he did. I go caught up in fads, friends, and fun. I was dating pretty girls all the time. At one point I even had two girlfriends at once. But that was my life. And I knew nothing else.

As the casket was lowered into the ground, I thought back to my childhood and the fun I had had with grandpa. In fact, I kind of missed it. I remembered how much I had admired him as a child. Some guilt came over me for not visiting him. I hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye. In fact, the last time I saw him was over a year ago.

Though I was sensitive at heart, peer pressure had trained me to hold everything in. I didn't want to express my feelings for fear of being made fun of. Even at the funeral, with no one but relatives, I did not cry. I was a grown man, 24 years old. Tears were for kids.

After the funeral, I started packing to go back to college. I had rock music blaring from the radio in my room, so I didn't hear my dad knock on the door. He came right in and scared me to death.

"Holy shit, Dad! What the hell?" I shouted.

"Hey, hey, there's no need to swear. I knocked on your door three times. Calm down," my dad replied.

I took a deep breath. My father walked over to my radio and clicked the power button.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he said. "Now listen, Peter. My father, and your grandfather, was a good man. You know that. He was selfless, always doing everything for us, and especially you, being his only grandchild. But he did have one wish. Remember Peter? He wanted someone to take over his farm when he passed on. Someone to keep all of his hard work going. And I was wondering if you would do that."

I stared at my dad in shock. Was he joking? Give up my career? Give up my friends? My girlfriend? All my hard work?

"Dad! No way! I mean, c'mon, I can't just leave everything behind! I still have two years of college! I have friends there! And a girlfriend! You think I'm just gonna drop everything to go watch grandpa's farm? He's dead now. It's not like he remembers his wish!"

My dad stared at me in disgust. "Peter, what happened to you?" he said in a quiet voice. "You used to be a good boy. Always thinking of others, willing to help." He shook his head. "When you stopped seeing grandpa, you truly changed. Do you have no heart? Wouldn't you want your grandpa to know that you care about him?"

Ugh. The guilt trip. "Ok, whatever…" I groaned. "I'll do it. But I'm only watching the farm until you can find someone else. Grandpa had three sisters. Get one of their kids to take over the farm."

"Peter…" my dad started.

"No, dad. I'm not leaving everything I've worked for. I'll stay for a year. That's it. If there's no one to take the farm after that, then it's history."

I shook my head in annoyance, and walked out the door with my bag. I said goodbye to my mother quickly, and started off for Leaf Valley.

I knew the route be heart. Leaf Valley was about an hour's drive from my hometown. As I jumped in my car, and turned the key, I saw my dad in the window. He had a disappointing look on his face, but also a look of sorrow. I ignored him, not even raising a hand to wave.

Whatever. I brushed the thought away.

Aurelia's POV

"Aurelia! Aurelia, where are you? Please hurry up, we must be going!" Chester called.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming Ches, hold your horses," I replied.

We were on our way to Leaf Valley, the new town that Chester had been called to. Being a priest, he traveled wherever he needed to go. The old priest had passed on, and the ministry knew that Chester was next in line. They offered for him to live in the church in Leaf Valley, but the catch was that we had to fix it up. I guess it must be in pretty bad shape.

Welcome to my life. Aurelia, a 30 year old pink haired woman with no goal. Yep. That's me.

I didn't have much of a life. My parents died when I was only four, and having no where else to go, I grew up in the Abbey. They nuns raised me from child to teenager to adult, and taught me their ways. So naturally, I would become a nun too, right? Well, it didn't quite happen like that. You see, I was never the "nun" type. I don't know if I'm the way I am because I was alone throughout my childhood, but I do know that I'm not your typical girlie-girl. Some might call me abrasive and a bit outspoken.

Chester calls me an onion. It's a pretty funny analogy when you think about it. You see, Ches thinks that my "outside layer" is too harsh. He says he knows that inside I'm a good person, and with the right work, I can make things a lot better, just like an onion cooked in the right way can make food taste great. The first time I heard that, it insulted me a little. But I quickly got over it. Chester jokes that each day, one of my hard layers falls off and the soft inside shows a little more, also like an onion.

Where does he get these ideas? You know, sometimes I think you have to be a little weird to become a priest. Just a little.

But anyway, the point is that I never fully became a nun. I was in training from the age of 16 to 24, but I just couldn't handle it. I didn't want to live the rest of my life cooped up in that stuffy, prayerful Abbey. So I left. The nuns understood my predicament, and gave me a bit of money, but it was nowhere near what I needed.

Chester found me in a bar one night, drinking. I hated my life. I wanted to drink myself dead. But now that Ches gave me a new life, it's hard to believe that I ever wanted to kill myself. It's not my dream life, but it keeps me healthy and happy.

And so here I am today. I've traveled with Chester for 6 years, from church to church all across the world. The deal was, I'd help out with work, and he'd give me food, a place to stay, and an allowance. It's not much, but hey, it keeps me happy. I wouldn't wanna be like those spoiled brat people, anyway.

The one thing I'm complemented for, though, is my smarts. It's not much to brag about, but I've got a pretty complex mind. I was a gifted child. I flew through school, and completed high school two years earlier. I used the two years I had left to take college courses and expand my knowledge. It didn't get me very far, but I like that I have an extensive knowledge.

I carefully packed my suitcase, and walked down the stairs of the old church to meet Chester. A taxi was waiting for us, with Ches and the driver already sitting inside.

"All set, Ches, let's go," I said hopping into the car and buckling my seat belt. I have to admit, I like cars. The nuns in the Abbey did not own cars, nor did they ride in them. "Walking" was the only form of transportation. And Chester, being a priest, was no rich man. This was only the third time being in a car my entire life.

Oh well. At least I can say I have good stamina from walking everywhere as a kid.

I stared out the window silently with my chin resting on my hand, while I watched the old church become smaller and smaller in the distance. But I wasn't sad. I was used to moving from church to church. The question was, would I like the people in the town.

Comments?

There's more to come soon!