Disclaimer: Naughty Dog
owns Jak and Daxter
I
am not Naughty Dog
Therefore I do not own Jak and Daxter
Have you every really given thought about how Light Jak really felt about the events in the beginning of his life? To be created from something so pure and then to be thrust into a world of hate and violence?
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He'd fought in heated battles, wielding the metal machines of death.
He'd healed wounds that gushed crimson blood turned silvery blue that would promise certain death on other men.
Had watched battlegrounds fall apart and the innocent die, seen the enemy fall to him and allies.
So much death…
So much bloodshed…
His twin had torn his way through such sights with manic glee, while he had watched from inside and wanted to cry.
His host passed through them all and barley blinked. And he wanted to ease his indifference.
He wasn't made for things like that. He was a gentle soul made for healing and protecting and love.
But circumstances had forced him to do and see things better left to his two companions.
It was quite sad really.
For all he'd experienced, he'd never done the things he truly longed for, things he'd only observed in the hazy recesses of his host's mind.
Like swim in the ocean with the blue sky above and the reefs below.
Lying in the grass watching the clouds trail across the sky.
Sit beside a jungle stream with nature all around.
And to fly… to soar amongst the clouds and stars; sail under the moon that was as pale and bright as him.
It made him ache.
He wanted to do these things.
but time didn't allow for it, his host was too focused on his goals to notice the turmoil of one of his egos.
Why, why couldn't he understand that he wasn't just a tool, that he had thoughts and feeling the same as him?
He had desires, he felt pain. What made them so different?
He wanted to blame it one his dark twin. He who had twisted and taunted the very being that hosted him. That took pleasure in his suffering.
He wanted to blame him for turning his host blind to his suffering.
Blame him for conditioning him to see them as things.
But he couldn't…it wasn't in his nature.
How ironic that it was him that granted him this chance to freedom, because he felt his twin's pain.
Take over while he's resting…he won't feel you…
He hadn't, it was so simple and sent spikes of guilt through his gut.
But now he stood facing the ocean of the sandy city… the wind brushing against him and the salty tang of the sea coating the air.
It was the first time he'd smelled it… so different than the gun smoke and blood that usually clung to the air.
Or the earthy smell of the walls in their Spargus refuge as he healed his host when he ventured into the dessert.
The sound of the surf rushing toward the shore and retreating…
And the harsher sound of water on rocks to the right of him…
It was…refreshing…uplifting…
All of it… was almost overwhelming.
Kneeling in the sand he reached forward, fingers outstretching for the incoming waves.
And then the water was rushing over his hand, the icy chill gliding between his fingers.
So soft…like a caress.
His breath caught as chills ran down his spine. This was…
Standing once more he slipped his boots off. The water was calling him.
He stepped close enough for the waves to rush over his feet and drag the sand from under him as it left.
A grin flittered across his face at the sinking feeling and his mouth opened in a silent laugh as his balance was nearly lost and he threw his arms out to catch himself.
This feeling…such sweet elation, it moved him in such away that he had to move forward to bury himself in the sea up to his neck. Had to feel the pulsing life of the water all around him
the water pushed and pull at him, pulling on memories of his host he let the water pick him up and moved his arms and legs in synchronism so that he was gliding forward.
He could feel the small animals that live in the ocean; their tiny life energies pulsing around him. The feel of the water, the creatures in the sea, all of it, was alive.
The Larger predators lurking at the bottom stirred at his presence. But he wasn't in danger of them. Eco was a natural phenomenon, was apart of and maker of nature itself. To them he was merely an extension of them. So swimming in these waters was no danger to him.
The small island was one his host often stared at while lost in his thoughts. Pulling himself onto the sandy rocks he leaned back. Small droplets of the salty water slid down his pale body to pool around him.
Never had he felt so at peace, perhaps now he would no longer be haunted by the tragedies of war. Now that he had sweeter memories to cherish.
Lifting his head to his pale brother in the sky he realized for the first time in his short existence he felt truly, wonderfully happy.