Disclaimer: I don't own, so don't sue. Suing is bad. It means you have an evil soul Especially if you're suing bored fangirls with no money.
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Chapter 1: The Gate Opener
The vektrakt was an unusual device. Its shell was made out of a special alloy of copper and steel, and shaped like two gap-toothed domes connected by a series of small hollow glass tubes. Inside the vektrakt was a diagonal crisscross of wires. It worked like a lantern, only instead of the device producing light, it sent off a frequency of noises that produced light from stone. It was the tunneler's way of knowing which rocks were which.
The vektrakt was switched on to one of the lower frequencies. Dull green light blossomed from the rocks in the vektrakt's perimeter, which consisted mostly of the cavern floor. Cekva hopped off the rope that she had been lowered down on and stepped along the stone floor. The darkness was surprisingly overwhelming, despite the faint light. The light seemed to only serve in making the almost solid blackness more real. Cekva let her eyes adjust to the gloom and focused on the light's colour. Green light simply meant limestone. Cekva doubted if there would be any good copper deposits down here.
The cavern walls were about 70 kets (about 87 feet) apart from where Cekva stood, judging by how faintly the vektrakt was causing them to glow. The entire cavern seemed to be limestone and marble. It was certainly good for paving the roads of the surface cities and the wealthier parts of subsurface communities, but it was copper that was in high demand. With copper and other alloys, the Kivn were able to build their great cities and temples that were nigh indestructible.
Cekva held the vektrakt in front of her, approaching one of the cavern walls where she thought she might have seen a flicker of blue, which would mean the possibility of a vein of copper. When she reached the glow, she found it was not copper, but a small crystal. A blue crystal, resonating the vektrakt's strange frequency. It was beautiful. Cekva touched it, and felt a shiver run through her body. This crystal... this crystal was hers but it was her mother who had found it. So why was she in the cavern where her mother had been ten years ago when the enslavement of the Karn had begun? She heard a whisper of feet on wood behind her and she spun around to find herself in the wooden hut, illuminated with orange light from the furnace in the middle. In the corner of the hut was a crib. Cekva knew the crib, and the hut. It was her old home on the surface, four years ago before her mother had died and she had been permanently shipped off to the caves with so many others of their kind. The traitor Kivn were to live as the Karn.
Her mother was sitting at the wooden table sipping her ration of water from a tin mug. Scraggly black hair tumbled out of a loose bun. Her skin was dark and leathery, deep creases on a face that was too young to bear them. She was only in her mid twenties, but two children and six years of hard labor had long since crippled her brief youth. She turned to Cekva, and gave a weak smile.
"Ont kren kishi vandt geisont, Cekva, dow ven tenten kivishi kyun." When you go Cekva, be sure to protect your brother. But Cekva already knew that! Always, to protect Biyan. Always. It was Cekva's duty as the eldest child to protect the youngest. The parents were simply to bare the children.
There was a pounding of fists on the door, before it was knocked aside, splintering at the hinges. Cekva rushed to the crib and scooped her baby brother into her arms. Her mother slowly unfolded as she stood to face the Kivn soldiers, her aged face, still young in places, and so proud despite years of shame and degradation.
"Cek, yan!" Her mother ordered. Cekva hesitated, but finally obeyed. She opened the door to the bedroom, clutching Biyan to her breast. She pressed her ear to the door, hardly believing what she heard, as if she were witnessing some horrible stage drama instead of the reality. Mother was a traitor to the Kivn. The family was no better than the Karn. Mother to be executed, children to become slaves... it happened so quickly.
Hell, Cekva had soon learned, was not full of fire. It was full of pain. Cekva understood pain. She could always understand pain, and she soon learned to conquer it. She would protect her brother. In her brother, there was hope, there was a future, there was the belief that he could change the world. He would change the world. Cekva persevered because she believed. She would protect Biyan.
Two years later, Cekva was thirteen, and a tragedy that would truly test her faith in her brother struck.
The tunnelers had found a small cavern, its floor a natural basin of some dark liquid. The driver had thought it might have been tar, and they were to excavate it in the normal fashion.
At the time, Cekva would bring Biyan with her on digs on a carrycot strapped to her back. She had always been broad of shoulder and wide hipped, making her quite steady with heavy loads. Biyan, small, even for a two year old and somewhat simian in his appearance was no great feat of strength to carry.
But the driver had a particularly sadistic streak, especially to Kivn traitors.
"Lower than a Karn!" He snapped, as Cekva was apparently too slow in setting up the ceramic pipes. He lashed out with an electrified whip at Cekva, and the girl screamed. Not because of the pain. Cekva knew pain. She understood pain. Her body had grown so used to it by now... but a new pain had gripped her, cutting the breath from her lungs.
The carrycot was slowly sinking into the tar and Biyan was shrieking. Cekva rushed in, splattering the black liquid everywhere. She was waist deep in it, wading through towards her shrieking baby brother. The earsplitting high-pitched siren of a baby's wail cut through to the very core of Cekva's instincts. Protect the younger. He is a boy, and he can change the world. Protect him.
"Biyan ven tai! Ven tai ki yo!" He could not sink in. He could not die!
Cekva reached the carrycot, pulling Biyan from the filthy sleeping rags and holding him high above her head. His legs were covered in tar already... and Cekva dragged them both back to the edge of the pond. Another traitor Kivn and a few Karns helped pull her out, so surprised, so horrified at what she had done.
Cekva did not know why until she had seen what the substance really was.
Tar should have left her with burns beyond reckoning. There were none. And tar did not produce odd purple sparks.
Dripping from shoulders down with black sparkling stuff, she had knelt down by her wailing brother. The liquid had slid off of his legs like water off a duck, but he could never find it in himself to walk again.
The driver was a big burly man, bulky muscle and bone crushing strength. He was laughing fit to burst at what had happened. All Cekva could remember was a blinding flash of red as her blood boiled with rage and adrenalin. The driver was too busy laughing to notice when Cekva had lifted him off his feet and chucked him into the black substance where he had shortly perished.
Another two years, running through the vast tunnels, trying to find the surface, was finally coming to an end. Cekva had found the lift to the surface. The murder of a driver was a crime punishable by death but there were a lot of those. So Cekva had run. The black liquid had done something odd to her. Amazing strength, speed, reflexes... but there was a perpetual burning, as if something were eating away at her.
It's this place, she would remind herself. The surface world would be safe. Or at least safer. She had been born a Kivn. She could hide among them easily enough.
But she had lived as a Karn, and she would fight for them.
---
Jak sat up. Daxter was somewhere nearby, sleeping contentedly, or at least more peacefully than they had in Haven. The wastelands were not that bad, really.
That dream... no, not a dream... but not a nightmare either. So strange... so real...
Daxter cracked open a sleepy eye. "A'right?" He murmured drowsily, shifting a little so his chin was rested on his tail.
Jak nodded and stared into space. He was thinking. This was an unusual reaction for him in the middle of the night, so Daxter watched him silently. When Jak would sit up like that, it would be with a horrible guttural howl of pain. He would be covered in a cold sweat, shaking from head to foot and then... he would talk. Low, quiet, incoherent. Not to Daxter. Not to himself. Not to anyone. Just a long string of babbling, letting out the memories, like poison. His partner's newfound voice terrified Daxter. Whenever he spoke, it was with anger and hate, or just pain. The contented silence Jak had carried before their time in Haven had been... well, the silence of a man too happy to have to say anything. Even after the mess Jak had gotten Daxter into on Misty Island, there was still an understanding between the two: nothing really horrible could ever happen, could it? Daxter would easily forgive Jak for getting him into the mess of being small, orange and furry but he would never forgive the Baron for what he had done to Jak. Never. The Baron had enlightened them both on how death was very real, with every sadistic experiment he had conducted on Jak. With every inch of Jak's body flooded with agony, it had wrenched his personality in two.
Dark eco had turned Daxter into a smaller, furrier, version of himself.
Daxter was still wondering what else Dark eco would do to Jak. For now, however, they were relatively safe in the forest they had taken cover in from a large group of metalheads. Just like the bloody gun to run out of ammo when you needed it.
The forest they had found was an ancient one, full of huge trees. Not just huge, the things were bloody colossal! Jak had climbed up one of the larger ones, where they would be hidden from view from any metalheads in the thick foliage. For once, they could get a bit of shuteye. Strangely, there had not been hide nor hair of a metalhead in the trees. Not one. This had disturbed Jak, but not terribly. It made life easier.
But here there was also a strange feeling of déjà vu. He couldn't help but to think something terribly important had happened here. Names flitted through his mind, but they were long dead memories. He tried to remember, but all he could think of was the dream. He wondered what happened to Cekva. He wondered if she were still alive or if she had ever existed at all. He wondered... but didn't dwell on it. Instead, he lay back, and dreamt of memories that were not his own.
----
Jak awoke the next morning, feeling for the first time in ages rested, if a bit stiff in the neck. Daxter had sometime in the night shifted his weight to sleep on his friend's chest. But now he was also getting up, wondering groggily why his mattress had suddenly decided to tip him off.
"Morning," Jak mumbled, rubbing his eyes and spitting over the edge of the tree to get rid of some of the foul taste of morning.
"G'morning," Daxter replied, and clambered up onto Jak's shoulder guard. Once awake in the morning, it was time to get moving so Jak shimmied quickly down the huge trunk and landed easily at the base, amidst the huge serpentine coils of roots.
"Jak, is it just me, or does this place make you feel uneasy?" Daxter hissed, keeping his voice low. He must have really been bothered by the wood because generally he didn't bother with such niceties as whispering.
Jak nodded. "Yeah... these trees are strange. Let's have a look around."
Daxter rolled his eyes. That was just like Jak to want to explore a forest that put an ottsel's hair on end. My best friend, thought Daxter snidely, the kinda guy who even when up to his eyeballs in trouble will go looking for more.
They pressed on through the forest. There wasn't much on the forest floor besides patches of grass in some of the sunnier, less dense bits, and dead and rotting wood. Neither was surprised about it. The enormous trees must have been sucking all the nutrients in the soil for themselves. There were a few animals, small rodents and lagomorphs that skittered about, but other than that there were few signs of life. The place was bothering Jak. His fingers were itching to pull the trigger and the lack of metalheads was making him nervous. No lurkers. No people. No metalheads. A few squirrels and bunnies, but that didn't really add up to much except a rather decent rabbit stew that afternoon. As they continued on, the forest seemed to get older, the trees getting thicker, more huge. They passed one that Jak was sure the diameter of the trunk must have been a good twenty feet. They had seen a few ruins, both Precursor and post-Precursor. But there was no surprise there either. You saw them all over the wastelands. You saw them everywhere. They were remains of a lost civilization, or the crushed cities from wars that were still being fought.
"Man this place gives me the heebie-jeebies," Daxter murmered, shivering slightly.
Jak chuckled silently. That seemed to be the only quiet part about the man these days; his laugh. "It isn't so bad," Jak said at last, looking up at the canopy of leaves that seemed miles away.
"It's like the bloody cathedral of Nature Dame. It's too quiet here." Daxter shifted nervously on Jak's shoulder-guard, rubbing his paws together.
Jak agreed. Now that he thought about it, the place was like some sort of temple, with impressive pillars and an expansive ceiling. And the silence that could echo back the slightest noises. A twig's snap could sound like a crack of thunder.
"I don't hear any birds," Daxter continued, "And these tree's give me the willies!" He shot a sidelong glance at his friend as they passed another gigantic tree.
"Dax, shh!" Jak put a finger over the ottsels mouth, his long ears twitching. "Hear that?"
"Hrm whmm?" Came Daxter's muffled reply.
"Sounds like water. It's not far either. Come on, let's go check it out. Our canteen could do with a bit of refilling."
Daxter agreed to this. They had used up most of their water in that rabbit stewed in rabbit broth and a few herbs thrown in for the sake of a bit more flavor. But he'd really rather find a way out of the forest.
----
It wasn't water, as Jak had thought it might have been. It was... something else. It was a large sphere of some blue liquid, about ten feet in diameter and hovering about three feet off a raised marble platform. The sphere was contained within a rotating ring, carved with what Jak recognized as the ancient hieroglyphics of the Precursors. The blue liquid was making soft rippling noises, which was why he had thought it was a stream earlier.
"What is it?" Daxter finally said, breaking the silence.
"I dunno," Jak replied, clambering up onto the marble platform for a closer look. The rotating ring continued lazily past him as he stepped around the liquid sphere. Daxter gave it a wary look, but long since learned his lesson about touching things if he didn't know what they were.
Jak reached out to brush his hand against the surface of the ring. It felt warm. Not like it had been sitting in the sun for a long time, but 'alive' warm. Underneath the metal surface, he could make out a light throb of a pulse.
The ring came to a halt at his touch, the sphere of liquid becoming quite still. Its rippling surface became smooth.
Jak and Daxter exchanged looks. This was never a good sign.
----
Time raced wildly, whipping about in the confines of infinity, reaching out to the source. It could feel it! The living incarnation of it was standing only inches away...
Ever forward, it whispered, ever forward. Change the past, rectify the mistakes that have perverted you into something you never dreamed of becoming. Open your heart to us.
----
Jak reached out to touch the liquid, his expression oddly glassy. Daxter knew that face. It was the same empty expression Jak wore moments before he became that... thing.
"Jak, no!" Daxter shouted, snapping Jak out of his daze just as the sphere of blue liquid suddenly came to life. It engulfed them both, and they found themselves in an all too familiar state of hurtling through time and space.
----
Gin was an old Kivn man of fifty-seven and had prospered as a farmer. He lived in a single-floor maze-like manor, built of adobe and hardwood. He was a man who tended to the prosperity of life, to the birth of plants, and anything that grew. He was a peaceful man, and had worked hard.
Iktan was Gin's farmhand, a Karn, or to those that do not speak Kivnkye, a long-ear. Iktan was about seventeen, and had helped Gin since he was ten and had escaped from the work camps where warrior Kivn from the North Continent sent Karn and traitor Kivn.
It was probably better for Jak and Daxter that it was Gin rather than Iktan who found them, dangling half conscious from one of his orchard trees. Gin stared lazily up into the olive tree where draped face down over the branches was a rather dazed looking yellow-and-green haired man in a blue tunic and beige trousers, and another man with flaming orange and red hair wearing absolutely nothing except a flight cap and a pair of goggles. He wondered vaguely if there was an alternate explanation to this besides the old saying of "kids these days."
Instead of picking olives that day, Gin carefully removed the two young men, carrying one over each of his broad shoulders down the old wooden ladder. Gin was old, and he knew age would eventually catch up to him one day, but that one day had yet to arrive so he still maintained much of his strength that made him a great farmer in his youth. He set the two down on the net where he knew he should have been dropping fresh olives onto.
"Iktan!" Gin shouted towards where he saw olives dropping onto another net about two rows down. "Iktan! De shkiyo!" Yes, over here you silly boy. Get that head of yours out of the clouds.
Iktan hurried over. He was a good-looking Karn, with short reddish brown hair, often made a mess of by the leather cap atop his head. He was dressed in a pair of slacks and brown leather boots, a white tunic tucked haphazardly into his trousers and held in by a belt, and a brown leather vest, patched on the right shoulder from when it had caught on a tree branch. "An ki fahn, Gin-sha?"
"Ne, ki fahn nen." Of course he wasn't alright! He had just discovered two delinquents in one of his olive trees, caught in the daze and aftermath of Shehkrahn only knew what!
Iktan's gaze went slowly down to the two men, and then his eyes widened in surprise. "Shahna ki veh? Sunikt?" Who on earth were they? Where had they come from?
"Ce ka. Konnikt, se wa nen dakka ko ichta va sho? An shishi-kanan took te vannaka." How was Gin to know? Wasn't it probably better to get them inside? And get the redhead some clothes. They were Karn after all, and while Kivn soldier patrols were scarce in the countryside, they were not unheard of and the last thing Gin needed was for Kivn soldiers to find their latest escapees unconscious and naked in one of his orchard trees.
Iktan stared balefully at the naked Daxter and Gin sighed. "Ajo. Kepa shishi-kanan na dakka vicht tan." Alright, he'd carry the redhead. Bloody Iktan and his prudish outlook... And that red-head seemed heavy! He was tall. And bulky. More so than the one who was dressed, and Gin was an old man after all.
Of course when Gin bellowed this to Iktan, the boy turned a deaf ear, instead pointing out Gin's marvelous feat of strength the other day when he had plowed a whole field with no help from a Yakkow and won his bet. Gin's mouth snapped shut, and he glared from behind his narrow, crinkly eyelids at his farmhand. But his mouth had cracked a smile.
No matter who you were, flattery got you everywhere with Gin.
----
Jak sat up slowly. His body felt heavy and sore, as if he had been running for a very long time without rest. He steadied his aching head with one hand, trying force his eyes to focus. He was in a bed, and had somehow gotten himself tangled in the linen sheets. At the foot of the bed was a wooden trunk, where his boots, gloves, waist pouch, belts, shoulder straps and guard, the morph-gun and the jet board were all rested. Seeing the things laid out like that, he never realized how much he carried with him. But something was missing... Jak glanced around, expecting to see an orange ball of fur curled up nearby.
"Dax?" He called slowly, detangling himself from the covers. There was no response. "Dax?" He called again, glancing around the room. It was furnished with a bed, the trunk, a few lanterns unlit because of the clear, bright sunshine pouring in through glass windows. A dresser stood to the left side of the door on the wall opposite the bed.
Jak felt worried. If Daxter had been anywhere in hearing range, the ottsel would have come running. Perhaps they had gotten separated when they had fallen through the... whatever that thing had been. A rift gate...? No... he had seen a rift gate before. It hadn't looked like that... that thing... it had spoken to him.
Sliding off the bed, Jak's bare feet came in contact with a cool, hardwood floor. Just what was this place?
The click of the handle-latch on the wooden door heralded Iktan's entrance. He was carrying a small wooden mug full of a steaming liquid giving off a strong bitter scent, and a brown clay bowl full of cold water and a white wash-cloth draped over the rim. Iktan looked surprised to see Jak awake, and set the bowl and mug down on the dress.
"Ahh, keyakka vo?"
Jak stared blankly, incomprehension written all over his face.
"Keshoka da ke. Na, ten vo tenno, se shishi-kannan, nen keyakka so. Te va?" Iktan continued, not understanding the look Jak was giving him. The farmhand fumbled with the cloth a moment, before soaking it in the water and offering to Jak. "Sa, ki vo, ki vo. Ten nakka tishi ko va."
"I don't understand you." Jak said finally, trying to mimic his incomprehension with a few hand gestures.
"Oh," Iktan exclaimed startled. "You speak Karnian! That good. I not speak my native language in very long time. Here, take this. It cold, and you catch sun-sickness from being still so long in sunlight."
Jak took the cloth, mopping his face with it. He hadn't realized how hot it was until he felt the cool water on his skin.
"You do well," Iktan carried on, passing the bowl of cool water to Jak who took it gratefully, wetting the cloth and dabbing any bare skin with it. "Gin-sha is not angry with you and your friend for trespassing. Gin-sha good man, especially for a Kivn."
"My friend," said Jak, trying to keep pace with Iktan's rapid-fire explanations. "Is he alright?"
"He alright. Sun-sickness. He sleep it off in room next to yours. He still sleep. Lying naked in sun too long, especially in heat wave this bad... well, he be alright. He woke for short time, Gin-sha gave him water, and he go back to sleep."
Jak sighed. So Daxter was here and being taken care of. Good.
"Where am I?" He blurted out suddenly, in remark on the unfamiliar surroundings. He set down the bowl of water, feeling sufficiently cooled off now.
Iktan gave him a long piercing look and took the steaming mug from the dresser, passing it to Jak.
"You in Gin-sha's manner. On his farm. You hear of Gin-sha, nen? In prison? He take escape Karn slaves, help them get away to south continent, Sentinel Continent where Karn safe. You and your friend escape slaves, nen?"
"No," Said Jak, absentmindedly clutching his head in his hands. He felt dizzy.
"Drink," urged Iktan, "that good medicine. Make you feel strong again. I am Iktan, I pretend to be Gin-sha's slave. Help Gin-sha so Gin-sha help karn slaves. You do well, drink now. Rest and get well."
"I'm Jak," he replied, eyeing the steaming mug suspiciously. It was odd, but he felt as though he could trust this kid.
"That good name. Strong name, name of great hero, many years ago. Jak was a Karn too. He save Sentinel Continent from dark sages, Gol, Maia, you know the story?"
Jak looked up, his head spinning. Had this kid... Iktan... just said what he thought he said?
"Yeah," he said finally, "yeah, I know the story. I know it real well..." probably better than anybody. After all, he had been there when it happened.
"Drink and rest. I be back later with some food. Your friend will probably wake by then too. Sun-sickness not good. I catch when I was younger and did not rest. Could not move for days."
Jak nodded, and took a long gulp of the steaming liquid. It tasted foul, but he felt the ache leave is body and a deep sleepiness suddenly overtake him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and finished the drink before falling asleep again.
"Rest well," said Iktan to the sleeping Jak before collecting the bowl, cloth and mug. "I glad to be able to speak my language again... been so long..."
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Ai-chan: Oh ho ho ho! Turns Chibi-Jabberwocky And here it begins, my first ever Jak and Dax fic! (Please go easy on me). Right now I'm juggling two fics (this one) and my Get Backers fic (which coincidentally has the person who beta'd this as one of the OCs .) Thank you Mei for taking time out of your overstuffed schedule for beta reading this! You are a sweetie, and I can't wait for you to move back to the states! YAY!
Anyway, you might be able to see where this fic is leading from it's meager beginnings or maybe you can't, but trust me, there's going to be lots of fun twists and turns. And watch out for falling shounen-ai implications because, after all, this is an Ai-chan fic. I promise I won't be too heavy handed on the shounen ai... probably...
Thanks for reading! C&C is welcomed with happy pink heart-shaped cookies, while flames will be eaten with cheese and crackers.
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Chapter 1: The Gate Opener
The vektrakt was an unusual device. Its shell was made out of a special alloy of copper and steel, and shaped like two gap-toothed domes connected by a series of small hollow glass tubes. Inside the vektrakt was a diagonal crisscross of wires. It worked like a lantern, only instead of the device producing light, it sent off a frequency of noises that produced light from stone. It was the tunneler's way of knowing which rocks were which.
The vektrakt was switched on to one of the lower frequencies. Dull green light blossomed from the rocks in the vektrakt's perimeter, which consisted mostly of the cavern floor. Cekva hopped off the rope that she had been lowered down on and stepped along the stone floor. The darkness was surprisingly overwhelming, despite the faint light. The light seemed to only serve in making the almost solid blackness more real. Cekva let her eyes adjust to the gloom and focused on the light's colour. Green light simply meant limestone. Cekva doubted if there would be any good copper deposits down here.
The cavern walls were about 70 kets (about 87 feet) apart from where Cekva stood, judging by how faintly the vektrakt was causing them to glow. The entire cavern seemed to be limestone and marble. It was certainly good for paving the roads of the surface cities and the wealthier parts of subsurface communities, but it was copper that was in high demand. With copper and other alloys, the Kivn were able to build their great cities and temples that were nigh indestructible.
Cekva held the vektrakt in front of her, approaching one of the cavern walls where she thought she might have seen a flicker of blue, which would mean the possibility of a vein of copper. When she reached the glow, she found it was not copper, but a small crystal. A blue crystal, resonating the vektrakt's strange frequency. It was beautiful. Cekva touched it, and felt a shiver run through her body. This crystal... this crystal was hers but it was her mother who had found it. So why was she in the cavern where her mother had been ten years ago when the enslavement of the Karn had begun? She heard a whisper of feet on wood behind her and she spun around to find herself in the wooden hut, illuminated with orange light from the furnace in the middle. In the corner of the hut was a crib. Cekva knew the crib, and the hut. It was her old home on the surface, four years ago before her mother had died and she had been permanently shipped off to the caves with so many others of their kind. The traitor Kivn were to live as the Karn.
Her mother was sitting at the wooden table sipping her ration of water from a tin mug. Scraggly black hair tumbled out of a loose bun. Her skin was dark and leathery, deep creases on a face that was too young to bear them. She was only in her mid twenties, but two children and six years of hard labor had long since crippled her brief youth. She turned to Cekva, and gave a weak smile.
"Ont kren kishi vandt geisont, Cekva, dow ven tenten kivishi kyun." When you go Cekva, be sure to protect your brother. But Cekva already knew that! Always, to protect Biyan. Always. It was Cekva's duty as the eldest child to protect the youngest. The parents were simply to bare the children.
There was a pounding of fists on the door, before it was knocked aside, splintering at the hinges. Cekva rushed to the crib and scooped her baby brother into her arms. Her mother slowly unfolded as she stood to face the Kivn soldiers, her aged face, still young in places, and so proud despite years of shame and degradation.
"Cek, yan!" Her mother ordered. Cekva hesitated, but finally obeyed. She opened the door to the bedroom, clutching Biyan to her breast. She pressed her ear to the door, hardly believing what she heard, as if she were witnessing some horrible stage drama instead of the reality. Mother was a traitor to the Kivn. The family was no better than the Karn. Mother to be executed, children to become slaves... it happened so quickly.
Hell, Cekva had soon learned, was not full of fire. It was full of pain. Cekva understood pain. She could always understand pain, and she soon learned to conquer it. She would protect her brother. In her brother, there was hope, there was a future, there was the belief that he could change the world. He would change the world. Cekva persevered because she believed. She would protect Biyan.
Two years later, Cekva was thirteen, and a tragedy that would truly test her faith in her brother struck.
The tunnelers had found a small cavern, its floor a natural basin of some dark liquid. The driver had thought it might have been tar, and they were to excavate it in the normal fashion.
At the time, Cekva would bring Biyan with her on digs on a carrycot strapped to her back. She had always been broad of shoulder and wide hipped, making her quite steady with heavy loads. Biyan, small, even for a two year old and somewhat simian in his appearance was no great feat of strength to carry.
But the driver had a particularly sadistic streak, especially to Kivn traitors.
"Lower than a Karn!" He snapped, as Cekva was apparently too slow in setting up the ceramic pipes. He lashed out with an electrified whip at Cekva, and the girl screamed. Not because of the pain. Cekva knew pain. She understood pain. Her body had grown so used to it by now... but a new pain had gripped her, cutting the breath from her lungs.
The carrycot was slowly sinking into the tar and Biyan was shrieking. Cekva rushed in, splattering the black liquid everywhere. She was waist deep in it, wading through towards her shrieking baby brother. The earsplitting high-pitched siren of a baby's wail cut through to the very core of Cekva's instincts. Protect the younger. He is a boy, and he can change the world. Protect him.
"Biyan ven tai! Ven tai ki yo!" He could not sink in. He could not die!
Cekva reached the carrycot, pulling Biyan from the filthy sleeping rags and holding him high above her head. His legs were covered in tar already... and Cekva dragged them both back to the edge of the pond. Another traitor Kivn and a few Karns helped pull her out, so surprised, so horrified at what she had done.
Cekva did not know why until she had seen what the substance really was.
Tar should have left her with burns beyond reckoning. There were none. And tar did not produce odd purple sparks.
Dripping from shoulders down with black sparkling stuff, she had knelt down by her wailing brother. The liquid had slid off of his legs like water off a duck, but he could never find it in himself to walk again.
The driver was a big burly man, bulky muscle and bone crushing strength. He was laughing fit to burst at what had happened. All Cekva could remember was a blinding flash of red as her blood boiled with rage and adrenalin. The driver was too busy laughing to notice when Cekva had lifted him off his feet and chucked him into the black substance where he had shortly perished.
Another two years, running through the vast tunnels, trying to find the surface, was finally coming to an end. Cekva had found the lift to the surface. The murder of a driver was a crime punishable by death but there were a lot of those. So Cekva had run. The black liquid had done something odd to her. Amazing strength, speed, reflexes... but there was a perpetual burning, as if something were eating away at her.
It's this place, she would remind herself. The surface world would be safe. Or at least safer. She had been born a Kivn. She could hide among them easily enough.
But she had lived as a Karn, and she would fight for them.
---
Jak sat up. Daxter was somewhere nearby, sleeping contentedly, or at least more peacefully than they had in Haven. The wastelands were not that bad, really.
That dream... no, not a dream... but not a nightmare either. So strange... so real...
Daxter cracked open a sleepy eye. "A'right?" He murmured drowsily, shifting a little so his chin was rested on his tail.
Jak nodded and stared into space. He was thinking. This was an unusual reaction for him in the middle of the night, so Daxter watched him silently. When Jak would sit up like that, it would be with a horrible guttural howl of pain. He would be covered in a cold sweat, shaking from head to foot and then... he would talk. Low, quiet, incoherent. Not to Daxter. Not to himself. Not to anyone. Just a long string of babbling, letting out the memories, like poison. His partner's newfound voice terrified Daxter. Whenever he spoke, it was with anger and hate, or just pain. The contented silence Jak had carried before their time in Haven had been... well, the silence of a man too happy to have to say anything. Even after the mess Jak had gotten Daxter into on Misty Island, there was still an understanding between the two: nothing really horrible could ever happen, could it? Daxter would easily forgive Jak for getting him into the mess of being small, orange and furry but he would never forgive the Baron for what he had done to Jak. Never. The Baron had enlightened them both on how death was very real, with every sadistic experiment he had conducted on Jak. With every inch of Jak's body flooded with agony, it had wrenched his personality in two.
Dark eco had turned Daxter into a smaller, furrier, version of himself.
Daxter was still wondering what else Dark eco would do to Jak. For now, however, they were relatively safe in the forest they had taken cover in from a large group of metalheads. Just like the bloody gun to run out of ammo when you needed it.
The forest they had found was an ancient one, full of huge trees. Not just huge, the things were bloody colossal! Jak had climbed up one of the larger ones, where they would be hidden from view from any metalheads in the thick foliage. For once, they could get a bit of shuteye. Strangely, there had not been hide nor hair of a metalhead in the trees. Not one. This had disturbed Jak, but not terribly. It made life easier.
But here there was also a strange feeling of déjà vu. He couldn't help but to think something terribly important had happened here. Names flitted through his mind, but they were long dead memories. He tried to remember, but all he could think of was the dream. He wondered what happened to Cekva. He wondered if she were still alive or if she had ever existed at all. He wondered... but didn't dwell on it. Instead, he lay back, and dreamt of memories that were not his own.
----
Jak awoke the next morning, feeling for the first time in ages rested, if a bit stiff in the neck. Daxter had sometime in the night shifted his weight to sleep on his friend's chest. But now he was also getting up, wondering groggily why his mattress had suddenly decided to tip him off.
"Morning," Jak mumbled, rubbing his eyes and spitting over the edge of the tree to get rid of some of the foul taste of morning.
"G'morning," Daxter replied, and clambered up onto Jak's shoulder guard. Once awake in the morning, it was time to get moving so Jak shimmied quickly down the huge trunk and landed easily at the base, amidst the huge serpentine coils of roots.
"Jak, is it just me, or does this place make you feel uneasy?" Daxter hissed, keeping his voice low. He must have really been bothered by the wood because generally he didn't bother with such niceties as whispering.
Jak nodded. "Yeah... these trees are strange. Let's have a look around."
Daxter rolled his eyes. That was just like Jak to want to explore a forest that put an ottsel's hair on end. My best friend, thought Daxter snidely, the kinda guy who even when up to his eyeballs in trouble will go looking for more.
They pressed on through the forest. There wasn't much on the forest floor besides patches of grass in some of the sunnier, less dense bits, and dead and rotting wood. Neither was surprised about it. The enormous trees must have been sucking all the nutrients in the soil for themselves. There were a few animals, small rodents and lagomorphs that skittered about, but other than that there were few signs of life. The place was bothering Jak. His fingers were itching to pull the trigger and the lack of metalheads was making him nervous. No lurkers. No people. No metalheads. A few squirrels and bunnies, but that didn't really add up to much except a rather decent rabbit stew that afternoon. As they continued on, the forest seemed to get older, the trees getting thicker, more huge. They passed one that Jak was sure the diameter of the trunk must have been a good twenty feet. They had seen a few ruins, both Precursor and post-Precursor. But there was no surprise there either. You saw them all over the wastelands. You saw them everywhere. They were remains of a lost civilization, or the crushed cities from wars that were still being fought.
"Man this place gives me the heebie-jeebies," Daxter murmered, shivering slightly.
Jak chuckled silently. That seemed to be the only quiet part about the man these days; his laugh. "It isn't so bad," Jak said at last, looking up at the canopy of leaves that seemed miles away.
"It's like the bloody cathedral of Nature Dame. It's too quiet here." Daxter shifted nervously on Jak's shoulder-guard, rubbing his paws together.
Jak agreed. Now that he thought about it, the place was like some sort of temple, with impressive pillars and an expansive ceiling. And the silence that could echo back the slightest noises. A twig's snap could sound like a crack of thunder.
"I don't hear any birds," Daxter continued, "And these tree's give me the willies!" He shot a sidelong glance at his friend as they passed another gigantic tree.
"Dax, shh!" Jak put a finger over the ottsels mouth, his long ears twitching. "Hear that?"
"Hrm whmm?" Came Daxter's muffled reply.
"Sounds like water. It's not far either. Come on, let's go check it out. Our canteen could do with a bit of refilling."
Daxter agreed to this. They had used up most of their water in that rabbit stewed in rabbit broth and a few herbs thrown in for the sake of a bit more flavor. But he'd really rather find a way out of the forest.
----
It wasn't water, as Jak had thought it might have been. It was... something else. It was a large sphere of some blue liquid, about ten feet in diameter and hovering about three feet off a raised marble platform. The sphere was contained within a rotating ring, carved with what Jak recognized as the ancient hieroglyphics of the Precursors. The blue liquid was making soft rippling noises, which was why he had thought it was a stream earlier.
"What is it?" Daxter finally said, breaking the silence.
"I dunno," Jak replied, clambering up onto the marble platform for a closer look. The rotating ring continued lazily past him as he stepped around the liquid sphere. Daxter gave it a wary look, but long since learned his lesson about touching things if he didn't know what they were.
Jak reached out to brush his hand against the surface of the ring. It felt warm. Not like it had been sitting in the sun for a long time, but 'alive' warm. Underneath the metal surface, he could make out a light throb of a pulse.
The ring came to a halt at his touch, the sphere of liquid becoming quite still. Its rippling surface became smooth.
Jak and Daxter exchanged looks. This was never a good sign.
----
Time raced wildly, whipping about in the confines of infinity, reaching out to the source. It could feel it! The living incarnation of it was standing only inches away...
Ever forward, it whispered, ever forward. Change the past, rectify the mistakes that have perverted you into something you never dreamed of becoming. Open your heart to us.
----
Jak reached out to touch the liquid, his expression oddly glassy. Daxter knew that face. It was the same empty expression Jak wore moments before he became that... thing.
"Jak, no!" Daxter shouted, snapping Jak out of his daze just as the sphere of blue liquid suddenly came to life. It engulfed them both, and they found themselves in an all too familiar state of hurtling through time and space.
----
Gin was an old Kivn man of fifty-seven and had prospered as a farmer. He lived in a single-floor maze-like manor, built of adobe and hardwood. He was a man who tended to the prosperity of life, to the birth of plants, and anything that grew. He was a peaceful man, and had worked hard.
Iktan was Gin's farmhand, a Karn, or to those that do not speak Kivnkye, a long-ear. Iktan was about seventeen, and had helped Gin since he was ten and had escaped from the work camps where warrior Kivn from the North Continent sent Karn and traitor Kivn.
It was probably better for Jak and Daxter that it was Gin rather than Iktan who found them, dangling half conscious from one of his orchard trees. Gin stared lazily up into the olive tree where draped face down over the branches was a rather dazed looking yellow-and-green haired man in a blue tunic and beige trousers, and another man with flaming orange and red hair wearing absolutely nothing except a flight cap and a pair of goggles. He wondered vaguely if there was an alternate explanation to this besides the old saying of "kids these days."
Instead of picking olives that day, Gin carefully removed the two young men, carrying one over each of his broad shoulders down the old wooden ladder. Gin was old, and he knew age would eventually catch up to him one day, but that one day had yet to arrive so he still maintained much of his strength that made him a great farmer in his youth. He set the two down on the net where he knew he should have been dropping fresh olives onto.
"Iktan!" Gin shouted towards where he saw olives dropping onto another net about two rows down. "Iktan! De shkiyo!" Yes, over here you silly boy. Get that head of yours out of the clouds.
Iktan hurried over. He was a good-looking Karn, with short reddish brown hair, often made a mess of by the leather cap atop his head. He was dressed in a pair of slacks and brown leather boots, a white tunic tucked haphazardly into his trousers and held in by a belt, and a brown leather vest, patched on the right shoulder from when it had caught on a tree branch. "An ki fahn, Gin-sha?"
"Ne, ki fahn nen." Of course he wasn't alright! He had just discovered two delinquents in one of his olive trees, caught in the daze and aftermath of Shehkrahn only knew what!
Iktan's gaze went slowly down to the two men, and then his eyes widened in surprise. "Shahna ki veh? Sunikt?" Who on earth were they? Where had they come from?
"Ce ka. Konnikt, se wa nen dakka ko ichta va sho? An shishi-kanan took te vannaka." How was Gin to know? Wasn't it probably better to get them inside? And get the redhead some clothes. They were Karn after all, and while Kivn soldier patrols were scarce in the countryside, they were not unheard of and the last thing Gin needed was for Kivn soldiers to find their latest escapees unconscious and naked in one of his orchard trees.
Iktan stared balefully at the naked Daxter and Gin sighed. "Ajo. Kepa shishi-kanan na dakka vicht tan." Alright, he'd carry the redhead. Bloody Iktan and his prudish outlook... And that red-head seemed heavy! He was tall. And bulky. More so than the one who was dressed, and Gin was an old man after all.
Of course when Gin bellowed this to Iktan, the boy turned a deaf ear, instead pointing out Gin's marvelous feat of strength the other day when he had plowed a whole field with no help from a Yakkow and won his bet. Gin's mouth snapped shut, and he glared from behind his narrow, crinkly eyelids at his farmhand. But his mouth had cracked a smile.
No matter who you were, flattery got you everywhere with Gin.
----
Jak sat up slowly. His body felt heavy and sore, as if he had been running for a very long time without rest. He steadied his aching head with one hand, trying force his eyes to focus. He was in a bed, and had somehow gotten himself tangled in the linen sheets. At the foot of the bed was a wooden trunk, where his boots, gloves, waist pouch, belts, shoulder straps and guard, the morph-gun and the jet board were all rested. Seeing the things laid out like that, he never realized how much he carried with him. But something was missing... Jak glanced around, expecting to see an orange ball of fur curled up nearby.
"Dax?" He called slowly, detangling himself from the covers. There was no response. "Dax?" He called again, glancing around the room. It was furnished with a bed, the trunk, a few lanterns unlit because of the clear, bright sunshine pouring in through glass windows. A dresser stood to the left side of the door on the wall opposite the bed.
Jak felt worried. If Daxter had been anywhere in hearing range, the ottsel would have come running. Perhaps they had gotten separated when they had fallen through the... whatever that thing had been. A rift gate...? No... he had seen a rift gate before. It hadn't looked like that... that thing... it had spoken to him.
Sliding off the bed, Jak's bare feet came in contact with a cool, hardwood floor. Just what was this place?
The click of the handle-latch on the wooden door heralded Iktan's entrance. He was carrying a small wooden mug full of a steaming liquid giving off a strong bitter scent, and a brown clay bowl full of cold water and a white wash-cloth draped over the rim. Iktan looked surprised to see Jak awake, and set the bowl and mug down on the dress.
"Ahh, keyakka vo?"
Jak stared blankly, incomprehension written all over his face.
"Keshoka da ke. Na, ten vo tenno, se shishi-kannan, nen keyakka so. Te va?" Iktan continued, not understanding the look Jak was giving him. The farmhand fumbled with the cloth a moment, before soaking it in the water and offering to Jak. "Sa, ki vo, ki vo. Ten nakka tishi ko va."
"I don't understand you." Jak said finally, trying to mimic his incomprehension with a few hand gestures.
"Oh," Iktan exclaimed startled. "You speak Karnian! That good. I not speak my native language in very long time. Here, take this. It cold, and you catch sun-sickness from being still so long in sunlight."
Jak took the cloth, mopping his face with it. He hadn't realized how hot it was until he felt the cool water on his skin.
"You do well," Iktan carried on, passing the bowl of cool water to Jak who took it gratefully, wetting the cloth and dabbing any bare skin with it. "Gin-sha is not angry with you and your friend for trespassing. Gin-sha good man, especially for a Kivn."
"My friend," said Jak, trying to keep pace with Iktan's rapid-fire explanations. "Is he alright?"
"He alright. Sun-sickness. He sleep it off in room next to yours. He still sleep. Lying naked in sun too long, especially in heat wave this bad... well, he be alright. He woke for short time, Gin-sha gave him water, and he go back to sleep."
Jak sighed. So Daxter was here and being taken care of. Good.
"Where am I?" He blurted out suddenly, in remark on the unfamiliar surroundings. He set down the bowl of water, feeling sufficiently cooled off now.
Iktan gave him a long piercing look and took the steaming mug from the dresser, passing it to Jak.
"You in Gin-sha's manner. On his farm. You hear of Gin-sha, nen? In prison? He take escape Karn slaves, help them get away to south continent, Sentinel Continent where Karn safe. You and your friend escape slaves, nen?"
"No," Said Jak, absentmindedly clutching his head in his hands. He felt dizzy.
"Drink," urged Iktan, "that good medicine. Make you feel strong again. I am Iktan, I pretend to be Gin-sha's slave. Help Gin-sha so Gin-sha help karn slaves. You do well, drink now. Rest and get well."
"I'm Jak," he replied, eyeing the steaming mug suspiciously. It was odd, but he felt as though he could trust this kid.
"That good name. Strong name, name of great hero, many years ago. Jak was a Karn too. He save Sentinel Continent from dark sages, Gol, Maia, you know the story?"
Jak looked up, his head spinning. Had this kid... Iktan... just said what he thought he said?
"Yeah," he said finally, "yeah, I know the story. I know it real well..." probably better than anybody. After all, he had been there when it happened.
"Drink and rest. I be back later with some food. Your friend will probably wake by then too. Sun-sickness not good. I catch when I was younger and did not rest. Could not move for days."
Jak nodded, and took a long gulp of the steaming liquid. It tasted foul, but he felt the ache leave is body and a deep sleepiness suddenly overtake him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and finished the drink before falling asleep again.
"Rest well," said Iktan to the sleeping Jak before collecting the bowl, cloth and mug. "I glad to be able to speak my language again... been so long..."
----
Ai-chan: Oh ho ho ho! Turns Chibi-Jabberwocky And here it begins, my first ever Jak and Dax fic! (Please go easy on me). Right now I'm juggling two fics (this one) and my Get Backers fic (which coincidentally has the person who beta'd this as one of the OCs .) Thank you Mei for taking time out of your overstuffed schedule for beta reading this! You are a sweetie, and I can't wait for you to move back to the states! YAY!
Anyway, you might be able to see where this fic is leading from it's meager beginnings or maybe you can't, but trust me, there's going to be lots of fun twists and turns. And watch out for falling shounen-ai implications because, after all, this is an Ai-chan fic. I promise I won't be too heavy handed on the shounen ai... probably...
Thanks for reading! C&C is welcomed with happy pink heart-shaped cookies, while flames will be eaten with cheese and crackers.