Disclaimer – No one from Jak and Daxter are mine. Though Tryce, Alleena and Tharan are mine.
Summary – One-shot. Set during Jak 2, just before the scene where Jak and Daxter return from blowing up the ammo dump. Torn remembers what his life was like before the Underground and even before the Krimzon Guard.
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Dreams
Torn stared at the dagger. The light coming from the overhead lamp bounced off the metal, creating small patterns that danced on the nearby walls. It was reminding him of his days of crime; back when his parents were still alive. He fell into a trance while closely examining the blade sitting in his hand before him, reminiscing about his younger self, his parents not quite telling him what his future held.
'Torn, be careful with that!' his mother called after him.
Her younger son soon stopped and turned to face her, a mournful look on his young features. He held out the dagger towards her and she took it away from his small hands.
'But why Mother? I know I'm going to get it someday. I saw it in the book! Father even told me!' protested Torn.
Alleena gave a small groan, before sensing someone step up behind her. An arm reached around her shoulders and pulled her closer to a warm body for support.
'Tharan, why are you giving Torn such stories at a young age? You know he could get hurt without our supervision,' she wondered.
'We have to start training him soon, Allana. Tryce was around his age when we started with him," Tharan explained.
She gave a smile, before lowering herself to talk to her son face to face.
'Torn, you are old enough that we can tell you the truth. We are not like other elves,' she told him.
Torn's young face lighted up with enthusiasm as to what his mother was about to tell him.
'I am certain you have heard in the news about a certain 'clan' that stalks elves during the night, and even sometimes in the middle of the day,' Alleena put forward.
The young elf vigourously nodded his head. His attention was now fully caught with what his mother was saying.
'I want to be just like them when I get older,' he told them.
Tharan and Allana glanced at each other, knowing that everything was going to be fine before facing their youngest son.
'Your chance will come sooner than what you think for we are the Clan of Invisibility,' his mother smiled.
Surprise crossed Torn's face as someone stepped up to him from behind.
'Telling him the truth now, Mother? Is that such a good thing?' wondered Tryce.
'Tryce, I do not want to get this started again. It's not your choice,' stated Tharan.
Tryce smirked before shoving his brother to the ground. Torn cried out in pain when his arm came into contact with a partially covered rock. His parents rushed to his side as Tryce stood nearby, smirking.
"Mother, Father, I wish I could have done more to prevent your death. My heart aches with each passing day," he muttered.
His stare went from one wall to another. He gave a sad smile, knowing that everyone who walked through the door didn't have a clue about the mysterious rooms beneath where he was standing. They didn't know that the renegade team he belonged to years earlier used this very building as a second hideout. They didn't know that the entire clan was probably going to end with his death. They didn't know the skills he possessed but he could never use again. They didn't know anything.
"No one knows and I would like to keep it that way. The legacy dies with Tryce and me. If only I could go back to the old ways, fighting the Group of 9. In a sense, I still am," he quietly said, ending with a laugh.
Torn returned his stare back to the dagger. His thoughts were going back to his older brother. The only family he had left after the 'incident'. The only family that he had abandoned when he left the Krimzon Guard.
"My family, the only people who I cared about, is all gone. If we manage to live through this war, I don't know how far I will make it without them. I can't tell the others the truth for they'll never understand. I know Praxis is going to kill me, one way or another. He knows my deadly secret. That's the only reason I stayed in the Guard for as long as I did," Torn quietly said.
He silently stepped over to the wall, his back facing the door. He lifted the dagger in front of his face, ever reminding him of the day his parents officially gave it to him. The memories of when it was almost confiscated on the first day of Guard duty came to mind. He managed to insist that he keep it, never letting the others know why. They always wondered, always asked, but he never told them why. Torn sighed as he remembered the day he first came across Erol while in the Guard. That was the day that hell decided to pay him a visit a second time while serving in the Krimzon Guard. It paid him another visit when he decided to leave the Krimzon Guard.
Which was the last time he had seen his brother.
The two of them had gotten into a very physical fight, resulting in Torn getting a black eye. It had to take four others a half hour just to separate them from each other and the brothers were still struggling even after they were taken into different rooms.
"Never again will I allow my emotions to control me. It is because of them that we got caught, that I have not seen Tryce in a few years..." Torn started.
He hesitated, not wanting to think about the other possibilities.
"...that Ashelin and me are not together. If only I could tell her the truth but she would hate me for it," he managed to finish.
His ears soon picked up the silent movement of footsteps right outside the building, in the alley. The door quickly opened to reveal Jak and Daxter, coming back from the latest mission he had sent them on. Daxter was very exuberant over the whole mission and it made him silently snicker.
"The demolition duo has returned! One BBQ'd ammo dump, served up hot!" he heard the ottsel cry out.
His stare went to the ceiling, lowering his dagger in the process, barely listening to what Jak was saying.
'With my training, why can't I just kill the rodent and be done with him already? I guess he's too important to the young one. Guess I'll just have to wait him out,' Torn thought to himself.
The End