Introduction – Eco of Haven
One year after the defeat of Errol, Damus's grave looked no different. The soil around it was untouched – the single white rose still lay upon it in the pouring rain. Thunder would clasp from time to time as the storm clouds hid the night sky from view – but the figures did not flinch in anyway. Stood around this grave in Haven Forest were many people – most not known by the civilians for their good deeds. They were only allowed to stay due to Mar Jak replacing Praxis as Baron – although it was meant to be his place – not all was still not right in Haven.
The Freedom Guard had slowly fallen apart when Ashelin left Torn for Jak just over a year ago. Now about seven months pregnant with Jak's child, Ashelin leant against one of the trees, watching the grave, her glance switching to the baron occasionally. She wasn't exactly the baroness of Haven – and she had no intention of being it. Although she hadn't planned for children either. Sighing she ran her hand down her stomach, shutting her eyes – blocking out the rest of the group as she gave herself time to think.
The elder of the men stood around the grave cleared his throat, as he leant against the long katana he had dug into the soil, his orange eyes watching each group member in turn, before looking back to the grave. Shaking his head slightly, he ran his hand through his shaggy blonde hair, the android implants of his fingers cold against his ear as he did so. The yellow eco flowing through his veins made his skin warm to the touch and normally resistant to cold so the touch of icy metal made him jump slightly. He was formally dressed – which was even more surprising he was a Wastelander. The tuxedo he wore made him look out of place, but luckily the black cape helped him to hide.
Stood just left of this man was a woman, about twenty or so in age. Her short blonde hair was tied back in pigtails, giving her an almost cute appearance. Her bright green eyes sparkled with tears as she gazed at the grave. There lay their King that they were to late to save. The brown leather jacket she wore rebounded the rain from the rest of her body, although her jeans were soaked through. Her black boots were covered in a mix of mud and sand and didn't really help her cute appearance – then again, neither did the blaster gun attachment on her thick brown belt. The yellow tipped ammo weighed down the small bag she had over her shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice. Her main focus was making sure she held in the tears. She had no reason to cry – she had her fiancé stood to her left and father to her right. Her family wasn't all that broken. Not compared to that of the Mar's.
On her shoulder was an Otsell, his grey-blue fur drenched from the rain. His electric blue eyes were gazing at the ground, the pair of baggy jeans with a tail attachment holding his hands in it's pockets. The goggles over his eyes shielded his eyes from the rain – but he couldn't see to clearly through them at present.
Next to the blonde women was a man, who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. His navy blue hair came down to just below his chin, the goatee beard making him look slightly like Jak. His red muscle shirt was torn slightly across the chest – where there was a scar from battle. His arms were littered with cuts, scars and the odd bruise but around his hands were bandages. His brown cargo pants were covered in mud and sand as were his steel tipped boots. In his right hand was a scatter gun, which never left the sight of his blood red eyes. His left arm was around the women – trying to be supportive yet silent.
Beside him was a frustrated Torn, his gaze transfixed on the grave. Although it had been almost a year he looked no different, apart from his armour was a little more dented. Attached to his back was the same dagger as many years ago, which was still frequently used for multiple threats. He avoided the gaze of Ashelin, trying not to glare at the baron. No matter how he claimed they wouldn't fight any longer, it was painful to be around Jak. Instead his gaze switched to the women nearest the grave, the one he felt sympathy for – although he'd never say. Sympathy was for the weak in his mind.
In front of the grave as Jak, his blonde hair blowing in the cold north-west wind. Sat on his right shoulder was Daxter, who looked just as saddened as the others. He was regretting coming with Jak slightly as he didn't know half these people and he hated the pouring rain. The concept of lying in one of the booths at the Naughty Ottsel sleeping safe in the dry was all too tempting. But Jak needed him now. As did this new girl. Heck – Jak didn't get to tell Damus he was his son – but this girl couldn't even remember Spargus until it was too late. Cocking his head to get a better look at the girl, he sighed, frustrated that they had been stood here so long. These wounds would take time to heal.
Jak himself looked no different – just upset. He had found his only living blood relative and she only just remembered who he was. His gaze moved from the grave to her, placing his left hand on her shoulder as he knelt down beside her.
The women's weeping could not stop, no matter how Jak tried to comfort and say it would all be alright. It wasn't alright. Her hands clenched the dirt in anger, the soft yet sliming mud blending in with her gloves – so no one would have known she had been knelt in the mud. Then again – what did she care if they knew? What was left to live for. The silver plait running between her angelic white wings down her back was drenched, and the gold ribbon didn't really hold it in place at all. Her bright blue eyes were shut tight to try and stop the tears but they couldn't. Letting out another sob, the drops of water rained from her eyes, splashing against the soil. "Forgive me father!" she wailed, her right hand reaching up to her neck and clutching the House of Mar amulet on the thin piece of rope she used as a necklace. "I was so sorry I left your desert for so long… I-I promised I'd be back!" She said almost as a shout; however it was muffled due to the red scarf around her neck. "I failed Spargus… I failed you… I failed myself…"
Each group member watched her cry for what felt like hours. It was only when Torn stepped forward their gaze shifted to him. "We need to head back." He ordered, although he sounded slightly doubtful. "The city won't finish restoring itself you know."
Jak nodded, slowly standing up, taking the women's hand in his own as he did so – causing her to stand up too. He let it go once they were stood up, glancing back to the grave. "He's forgiven you Destiny…" he sighed, trying to smile, following the rest of the group which Torn lead back towards the city. "Trust me…"
((Short yes… -;;; But live with it… Chapter 1 coming... now... XD))