Spirit Night
Summary: Taking place once every four years, under the watch of the Golden Order of Precursor Monks, is a time when wounds can be healed.
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This was originally going to be a Halloween fic, but I never got around to actually writing it down. After spook night passed, I considered leaving it until next Halloween, but some stuff clicked with the Yuletide Season and I decided to post it as a December/Christmas fanfic.
So here it is.
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One: Arrangements
"You drove through the Temple."
Jak gave a nervous wince at the icy venom in the monk's voice. "Yeah. And…we're all sorry about that," he said. "We didn't actually know we would be going through there until—"
"You could have refused," Seem cut him off.
"That's just the thing, we couldn't!" Jak replied. "We had to win the whole Championship, and with the Wasteland at the start of the season, backing out wasn't an option. We had enough trouble just keeping up with everyone else."
Seem turned away sharply, picking up a scroll of her desk. "I am relieved that you were spared the time to lament upon your damage to my Order, faith and home," she snapped as she returned the scroll to its slot in the bookcase. "As many others who have knowledge of the Precursors' identity, I am sure you do not feel the need to respect their teachings or their places of worship."
"It wasn't like that!"
"No?" The young woman drew another scroll from the bookcase forcefully before meeting the time warrior's blue gaze with her own ruby glare. "Did you not take a grand amount of enjoyment from tearing down the racetrack that cut through our house of prayer? If you felt even the slightest bit of remorse as you raced that day, I will take back my words."
Jak opened his mouth to speak, but no words came as he was unable to deny the thrill he had felt as he had made it through the Precursor temple at air cutting speed. He closed his mouth and looked away from the rubies that were Seem's eyes.
"And you have the nerve to come to me and ask me to come to a Meeting in Haven." The young woman exhaled hotly at the boy's downcast expression. "Despicable." Without another word, Seem stormed through the doorway, pushing aside the curtain that hung in the doorway as she left the room.
"Seem, wait—" Jak hurried after the lady monk, but making it out into the hall, watching as Seem turned a corner, he realized that was the end of the conversation and he sigh despairingly as he leaned one had against the wall.
A familiar weight clambered up to Jak's shoulder, settling down after finding a comfortable position. "So… How did it go?" Daxter asked.
"I think she hates us again," the hero replied, but stopped to consider something. "No, scratch that. She hates me. She might be willing to forgive you since you're a Precursor and all."
"I wouldn't bet money on that," the ottsel said, patting his friend's green-blond head. "Veger got Ottselfied and she still hates him."
"'Course she does," spoke a rough, thick-accented voice, and Jak turned to the large man trudging down the hall to join the two teens. "Seem's got her own personal reasons fer that."
"Hello, Kleiver," Jak said blandly.
The large, scarred man's mustache rose as he grinned. "'Course…She's got her reasons fer hatin' you now, too, dudn't she?"
The young hero just glared.
"Hey. Sand bag," Daxter snapped in the place of his friend. "Why don't you be useful for a change?"
Kleiver contemplated a moment. "A'right, you want some advice?" He said to Jak. "Start growin' yer hair back out. Y' look like a friggin' beatnik."
"Thank you, Kleiver," Jak replied blandly as the Wastelander went on his way, and the youth sat down on a nearby stone bench.
The hero was somewhat irritated, as the subject of his haircut seemed to be a popular one, as almost every Wastelander he had met on his return to Spargus had commented on how strange he looked, as long hair was the common style for Wastelander men. And he himself didn't particularly like it either, but Keira had insisted on evening out the cut the Wastelanders had given him when he had been rescued.
Jak couldn't suppress his sigh at the thought of the mechanic. Throughout the entire Kras City Grand Championship, Keira had been exceptionally demanding about his appearance and pushy about being in constant contact with him, holding his arm or just leaning against him.
At the end of the whole ordeal Keira had actually kissed him. And while he had accepted the gesture, Jak couldn't help feeling as though the kiss had been desperate on the girl's part. As if she was trying to keep a grasp on him somehow.
It made him feel…hollow.
"Hey, Jak."
Jak's mind returned to the hallway in the Precursor temple and looked up at Daxter, who had moved to drape himself over his head. "What is it, Dax?"
"Your face got all tight…" the ottsel tapped the space between the youth's green eyebrows, "…right here."
Jak blinked awkwardly.
"I know that look, buddy. It means 'I'm deep in thought about something that makes me real uncomfortable'," Daxter said. "Lemme guess: Keira."
Knowing he could never deceive his best friend, perhaps one of the few people who had been able to understand him before he had been capable of speech, Jak sighed and nodded in resignation. "I just…don't think I get her anymore. Not since…"
He didn't have to go on, as Daxter knew the rest. Jak and Keira had never really been the same toward each other since the incident in the garage, when Keira had compared Jak to Erol and gone so far as to use his transformation against him. She had never truly apologized to him, but had recently developed the habit of clinging to him and luring his attention to rest solely on her.
Both Jak and Daxter had been in need of some away time from both Keira and Haven, and had been glad to hear that Ashelin needed them to go to Spargus. She had arranged—with some difficulty—a Meeting of the Three Cities so that Haven could work out any loose ends with Spargus and Kras and negotiate peace. As Jak was Damas' son, and everyone in Spargus knew it, Ashelin had requested Jak to select someone to represent the desert city.
At first he had considered calling up Sig, but the Wastelander had apparently taken up his old mantel as a spy—this time in Kras for Haven. Daxter had the tendency to joke that Sig had actually developed an interest in his late employer's daughter. Either way, he was unavailable.
Jak hadn't actually considered asking Kleiver, as he had beaten him in the championship and he was fairly certain the man was still bitter about his loss.
His choice after Sig had been Seem; as the leader of the Precursor Monks, she would know exactly what went on in Spargus and what it would have to gain from Haven.
He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. If he had been paying attention, Jak probably would have realized why Seem had been avoiding him for the past couple of days and what the High Priest of the Golden Order would have to be angry about.
"I'm such an idiot."
"That's for sure," Daxter agreed honestly. "Even if it is a cool jacket, you should've worn something that makes you look like a Wastelander instead of your Freedom League uniform. You stick out way too much."
Jak's blue eyes narrowed at his orange friend. "I wasn't talking about that and you know it."
"Yeah, I did. But your forehead got all tight again, so I also know you were thinkin' about way too many things at one time," the ottsel replied. "Plus, it's something I've been wanting to ask about. Why don't you wear your armor anymore?"
The green-blond youth sighed as he rose from the bench. "I'm just…not sure about Mar's Armor sometimes," he said. "It…bothers me…"
"What does?" Daxter asked.
But Jak just shook his head, wanting to dismiss the subject. Not wanting to give his friend another uncomfortable thought to dwell on, Daxter let it go, hopping up onto Jak's shoulder.
"Ready to go find Mister Lady Grump?" He asked.
Jak gave a small smile, not bothering to argue with Dax that Seem was a girl, and they headed down the hall to look for her.
Descending a set of stairs, Jak and Daxter came to the residential area of the temple, and were startled to find the hall packed with monks hurrying to and fro with their arms full of flowers and various other objects the pair of heroes couldn't describe aside from the fact they seemed to be decorations of some sort.
"Looks like a party," Daxter grinned as he watched a pair of female monks hang a wreathe of red flowers over a doorway.
Jak moved as carefully as he could, trying to make as little contact with the young followers of the Precursors as possible while he made his way through the crowd. When at last he finally made it to the other end of the hall, he looked back at the horde of elves and released a sigh. But upon turning to continue on his way, he collided with someone, sending their boxes of flowers and various oddities to the floor.
"Ah! Sorry!" Jak fell to one knee to help the monk gather up his things. "Didn't see you."
Having finished cleaning up the mess he had made, Jak helped the monk to carry his things to a nearby room. "Sorry again," he said.
"It is alright," the young man—who bore a red circle over his left eye—smiled sheepishly. "I should not have been carrying so many things that I could not see either."
"But, uh…"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to ask this, but…" Jak glanced at Daxter who motioned him to go on. "Would you by any chance know where Seem is?"
"The Mistress?" The youth blinked and then smiled brightly. "Oh, yes! She should be finishing the arrangements with the Riders…" He stepped out into the hall and pointed to a nearby set of stairs, "…just down that way."
"Thanks," Jak smiled and headed toward the aforementioned stairs.
"Sweet water," the monk replied with a bow.
Making it to the next floor, Jak and Daxter found the lady monk talking with a small group of her followers, who they recognized as the same monks Jak had raced through Spargus for a Light Eco Crystal just barely a year ago. Taking a deep breath, Jak walked over.
Catching sight of their prince, some of the monks bowed to him, while others moved to stand between Jak and their young leader, blocking her from view.
"Seem?" Jak looked in her general direction. "Can I finish talking with you?"
A thick silence was his reply.
"Please? This is important."
A gentle sigh lifted the veil of silence—the young hero had almost mistaken the sound for a light breeze passing through a nearby window—and the Leaper Riders turned to their leader as she spoke.
"Tonom da. Utei wa tof ryuely. Ri coylu ruinn ho Mar."
Bowing respectfully to Seem, the riders headed off the way Jak had come, some casting warning looks from the corners of their eyes as they moved past him.
"Some of these guys still freak me out," Daxter whispered to Jak, making him smile.
The green-blond looked at the lone, ruby-eyed leader of the Precursor Monks and scratched his head. "Seem, I—"
"I am sorry."
Silence fell once again at Seem's unexpected apology, and Jak exchanged a look with an equally confused Daxter who shrugged awkwardly.
"Sig had informed me of the predicament you and your friends were ensnared in, the very reason you had to race," Seem went on. "And I have been aware of it for some time, however, your invitation to Haven…came at something of a bad time."
Jak cast a glance around the hall, seeing the walls and doors decorated with blue flowers and white marks of the Ancient Precurian Alphabet etched around the doorways and on the floor, making a circle. "Is there some sort of party coming up?" He asked, honestly curious.
"It is a holiday, yes," the porcelain-skinned young woman replied with a nod. "Normally, the preparations would have been taken care of weeks ago, but due to the races, most of our time has been thrown in cleaning and repairing the damage to the temple, so we are somewhat behind."
"That might do it," Daxter nodded.
"So when is this…holiday?" Asked Jak.
"It starts tomorrow night and goes on into the day after."
"And tomorrow's when Ashelin's Meeting starts," Daxter said with a groan.
"Hence another reason for my outburst," Seem nodded. "For which I again apologize profusely."
Jak scratched his head with a sigh. "No, I understand," he replied. "I suppose it's important that you're here for…whatever it is that you do."
At this, Seem fell into a thoughtful silence, contemplating something for a short while before her red eyebrows rose as comprehension dawned.
"Actually, I may be able to attend your meeting," she finally said.
"Really?" Jak blinked in surprise. "But what about—"
"I will attend, only if I may be permitted to continue with my ceremony in Haven City," Seem added, cutting him off. "You can arrange something with the Baroness, yes?"
The young hero honestly wasn't sure.
"You're not gonna be sacrificing small animals are you?" Daxter asked.
At this, Seem's lightened expression darkened with a frown.
Jak quickly pulled out his communicator and dialed Ashelin's number, hoping he would only have to wait a short while before she answered.
Thankfully, she did. "Jak?"
"Yeah, it's me."
"Yo, Red!" Daxter called with a wave, though there was no way she could actually see him.
"Is everything going alright in Spargus?" The woman's voice inquired. "You're not having any trouble, are you?"
"Not really, no," Jak cast a blue glance at Seem, who watched him levelly without blinking, and somewhat disturbed, the hero returned his attention to the device. "Hey, Ashelin, Seem's willing to come to Haven, but she wants to bring some sort of…celebration along."
"What do you mean?"
"There's gonna be some sort of holiday during the meeting, and she doesn't want to miss it," Jak elaborated.
Ashelin fell silent as she seemed to consider it. "I'll need to know what it entails before I actually decide," she said.
Seem stepped over to Jak and took the communicator in her white hand. "Simply some space and anyone who would like to take part," she said. She cast a small glare at Daxter, "You have no need to worry about ritual sacrifice, as that seems to be Orange Lightning's primary concern."
"It would be," Ashelin said dryly before once again falling silent. "I'll need to know the minute details, but you can fill me when you arrive in Haven City."
"Then you will permit me and my monks to continue our celebration?"
"I see no actual harm in it," the woman miles away replied.
"Thank you, Baroness." Seem returned Jak's communicator to him. "I will arrive in Haven tomorrow morning with my monks."
"Then I'll go with you then," Jak replied and lifted his communicator. "You catch that, Ashelin?"
"Yeah. See you guys then. Ashelin out."
Jak clicked the device shut and returned it to his pocket. "You sure you can be gone for this thing?"
"The Temples are riddled with Light Eco Vents, and that is what they used in place of the High Priest, should he ever be absent," the young woman replied. "I shall inform my monks of this and we will prepare what will be needed. But we will require another transport."
"Okay," Jak smiled. "Dax and I'll go set things up with that." While Seem walked down the hall, he hurried back towards the stairs, but stopped when he reached the first step and looked back. "Hey, Seem?"
The young woman looked back over her shoulder at the young man. "Yes?"
"I'm…really sorry about what happened to the Temple," he said quietly. "I probably can't make up for what happened…But…"
"I am sorry, Jak."
He blinked. "Why are you sorry?"
The porcelain-skinned young woman shook her head. "I…overreacted about your actions, and I apologize. I was wrong about you…again."
"Seem—"
"Tohng. Tongh."
"Tong-Tong?" Daxter quirked an eyebrow.
Two monks—one girl and one boy—emerged from the end of the hallway and the female declared, "Here, Mistress."
"Tongh, escort Jak and Daxter through the temple to Spargus."
The young man bowed and moved to join the two heroes at the stairs, and together they left.
"Happy Holidays!" Daxter called back over Jak's shoulder.
Seem couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Tohng…"
"I am here to serve," the young woman replied.
"Inform everyone that they are to come to the Old Arena once they have finished their preparations," she said. "I have something to announce."