A/N: Hello all!! :D Welcome to my first real Golden Sun one-shot!!!! *feels proud*

I have a sister poem that goes with this, titled, “Living Legends- Poem” within my poem collection, “Golden Sun Poems”. This is, in actuality, my first Golden Sun one-shot, not including my attempted Golden Sun multi-chap (*shudders*) that needs major revising. (The author would like to request you not to read the multi-chap until it the updation date states it has been worked on sometime this year or later.)

Anyway, this is my first Golden Sun one-shot that is not multi-chap or crack-fic. You may read either this or the poem first; it is not necessary to read one first. However, whichever you read first will spoil the ending for the other, so if you prefer reading prose, you may prefer to read this first. I pray this turns out well; it is almost 1:30 in the morning (when written)… Eheh… xD

Anyway, please enjoy! :D I think you'll get a kick out of this. xD (After disclaimer… sigh.)

Disclaimer: I disclaim Golden Sun!! I no own!! (Does this help so no one calls lawyers on me? Lol.)

Living Legends

The firelight flickers and dances among the members of the caravan that huddle around it, seeking its warmth and security. These parts of the world are filled with bandits and robbers, the bane of merchants. They hope the light of Mars will drive away the evil spirits and those that seek to do harm, although they can defend themselves if need be. They may not be as powerful as the military-trained adepts, but they can still utilize the more basic techniques of their element, or element mixture, as sometimes the case may be. The once scarce and rare mental power is now so commonplace no one remembers the rise of the Golden Sun and the subsequent return of psynergy except through the tales of their forefathers.

Once such tale is about to be told. The group has opened a few kegs, and after a couple of rounds and merry chatter, they gather around the campfire to share tales of the area and anything that could be bone-chilling enough to invite trembles in their nerves during the chilly night. Several stories have passed with tales of the relighting of the lighthouses and ghastly spectors, and now it is the leader of the caravan’s turn to add his own whispered story.

He edges closer to the fire, the light pushing away the shadows from his immediate facial features while blackening the remainder of his body and those of his companions. He raises his mug to his lips, takes another deep swig for nerve, and lowers it. He carefully lets all traces of mirth drip away so his countenance reveals nothing but the solemnity of the dying legend he is about to resurrect.

“The lighthouses were extinguished several thousand years ago,” he begins, his accent succinct and precise while the whisper pausing and dramatic. “We all know about how several brave youths were the ones to relight them and rekindle the Golden Sun. These are the stories we were spoon-fed when we were naught but infants and were our guides as we learned to walk. But-” Here he pauses, allowing the full affect of suspense to fall, before- “there is one tale that is refrained of speaking. One myth, that to speak of it, to breathe the cursed name is as powerful as a curse upon your ancestors and progeny.

“This is the legend of the demon, the one whom the gods themselves feared and the sun once bowed before, before the courageous youth that lit and guarded the Golden Sun slew him and stained the snow of Mt. Aleph with his accursed blood.”

He glances around at the captivated faces, which are inching ever so slightly closer, not wanting to miss a word. He takes another drag of beer and continues:

“The demon was the bastard child of Nereid and Boreas, abandoned in the woods of Imil and left to die, lest their adultery be revealed for the eyes of all the Elysian Realm (1) to see. Unknown to the villagers of the then very-humble town, he had been cursed by Poseidon to reap destruction upon all he met- even the bare ground he walked upon withered beneath his steps. Plagues and famine swept the village, each season harsher than the next; the healers that had adopted him did not know he was the one that caused it. Imil’s inhabitants began falling one by one, the healers of the village no exception. Eventually, all that remained of the renowned healers were the sister of the accursed and their grandparents, but even they were fading away. Through her grief and the grieving of the village, they learned the truth, and banished the cursed incarnate of ice, bading him never to return.

“Abandoned once again by the ones who had once been his family, he cursed the village and its inhabitants, vowing to gain the power to rekindle the lighthouses, that he may become the ruler of the world and force them to face him. He vowed to become a god himself-

“He would capture the Golden Sun.”

Murmured gasps ring out among the listeners. The speaker smirks, enjoying the effect of his tale.

The mood is disturbed when a hooded-and-cloaked stranger enters the outer fringes of the camp. Knowing that a lone traveler is an easy target for the vultures robbers are, the leader beckons for him to join them. Allowing strangers into the camp is dangerous, but he opts to allow him on the count that he doesn’t feel any ill intent from him; the head merchant has strains of Jupiter within himself. He knows he can trust the heightened awareness that the might of wind gives him.

One of his traveling companions offers the new man a mug of beer, but he declines, not giving his name, but not saying anything or being antagonistic either. He just situates himself on the cold ground and looks to the head merchant, as though bidding him to continue his story. He does, and the chill of suspense of slight fear pervades the air again. The hooded man draws his cloak even closer around himself.

“As I was saying,” the leader of the caravan begins, his voice once again dropping into a mysterious and captivating tone, “a scourge of the village, the man that would become a demon sets out for the power to steal the Golden Sun, the heart of Weyard herself. He descends to the underworld, the very pit and castle of Hades, and coerces him to grant him demon-hood and the powers of hell and darkness. Now thoroughly transfigured bodily into the demon he was, he leaves Hades and challenges the gods themselves by stealing the lights of the Elements- the Elemental Stars, and daring to trespass on holy ground, tricking the legendary youths into lighting each of the lighthouses for him one by one. Finally, after the igniting of the final beacon, the Mars Lighthouse, this evil incarnate of Mercury races to the peak of Mt. Aleph, where the Golden Sun would ignite and forever shine her light upon Weyard once more. The one who bathes themselves in the igniting light could coerce her might, the might of the Sun, to their will.

“He climbs and he climbs. Finally, he reaches the top, just as the lights of all the beacons are gathering at the highest pinnacle. He stretches his arms out towards the heavens, calling the might of the Golden Sun to himself…

“But he was too late.”

The speaker falls silent, before the stranger, surprisingly, queries, “Why was he too late?” He has a voice as smooth as rocks polished by a pristine river, and the leader is taken aback for a moment.

But once again, the leader leans in, slipping back into the tale. “The guardian of Weyard stole a portion of the Golden Sun to prevent this act from occurring, and the demon howls in anguish at having his immortality stolen. He goes on a rampage, destroying half of Weyard, including Imil, the place of his banishment. He would have killed his adopted sister, too, if not for the youth, whom the Guardian had given a portion of the Golden Sun for this moment. Taking up his mighty Gaia Blade, the youth rams it through the demon’s heart.

“But the demon had become so evil, his heart so filled with the atrocities of darkness, Death itself cannot bare to touch him. It, too, abandons him, leaving him to an immortality of a half-living body, an undead corpse, rotting but unable to relinquish the tarnished soul it contains. The gods curse and spite him from their villas in the Elysian Realm, while secretly fearing he may resurrect himself to his former darkened glory and reap his revenge on them.”

As he says these words, the stranger suddenly decides to leave, though apparently entranced with the legend as he is. He rises, and the final words of the myth fade behind him as he walks away.

“They say the demon still wanders Weyard, searching for the youth who shares the final portion of his power and the soul of his sister that deserted him- the demon, Alex….”

The stranger keeps walking away, mulling the myth over in his head. He fingers at the sword he kept hidden in the sheath that is strapped on his back, chuckling to himself, “The demon, Alex. Huh, who’d have guessed….” He pulls the hood from his head and allows his cerulean hair to bathe in the moonlight.

After holding himself back, he finally gives himself over to the peals of laughter that have been building in his chest. “Demon, indeed!” he laughs. “Ah well, it was a good tale. Perhaps I shall listen in again, sometime….”

As Alex walks away, he thinks to himself how interesting his legend turned out to be, and he wonders how they would react if they knew the “demon” they were sharing the legend of had revealed itself, breathing and living among them.

It is a funny thought, he decides as he considers it, subsiding into laughter once again.

A/N: (1) Elysian Realm: the realm/dimension in which the gods/goddesses/summons reside. The latter is more in tune with my Golden Sun X Naruto crossover, “A Guardian’s Light”. Lol, yep, I’m borrowing this from there. xD

I believe this is my first post in which I wrote in present tense, so how’d I do?

Lol, yep, Alex survives and the Golden Sun granted him such immortality that he’s listening to his own legend thousands of years later. I wonder what happened to Isaac…? Hm, maybe I’ll do a separate fic concerning him. Maybe if I have takers. Anyone want me to do one on him?

Also, that was not implied Mudshipping toward the end of the legend. He was the only one who could’ve saved Mia in the tale, and therefore he had to be there if she was going to be saved. Don’t kill me, Valeshippers and forum buddies!! *dodges shoes* xD

Please R&R and share your thoughts!!!