Author's note: I'm kind of scared of this chapter. But here we go.
Chapter 6, Strange new day
The gate opened before them and Sig steered inside, masterfully turning the Stomper around and backing up against the wall.
"Nice driving," Daxter commented while leaping out of the vehicle, "couldn't have done it better myself."
Sig refrained from commenting. Instead he stepped outside and stretched.
"Ahh, nothing like starting the day by smashing metal heads before sunrise!" he concluded.
As he lifted his morph gun from the back seat, Jak had to grin in agreement.
"Only way it could be better would've been if you'd left me a few eggs to scramble," he said.
Sig just grinned and shrugged.
Jak looked upwards. The colors of the sunrise had melted away for the clear blue sky, with only a few wisplike clouds accenting the azure.
Yes, strange as it seemed the world did have its beautiful moments.
Heavy steps snapped him from his thoughts and he turned around. The calm tore away as his eyes narrowed at the approaching muscle mountain of an elf.
"Back so soon, boy?" Kleiver said.
Jak's reply was drowned when Daxter hopped onto his shoulder with a smug look on his face.
"Hey there, Venal, how's life treating you?" the ottsel said.
"It's… Veger…" came the weak reply from just beside Kleiver's head.
"Oh phu-lease! Look at him, Jak! Not even two days and he's already in a fetal position. Pff."
For a long time, Jak had been fully aware that there were a lot of things far worse than death. Despite this, Veger's wild eyes reinforced this knowledge and made it all so much sweeter. Oh yes, there was something better than ripping the bastard's heart out and smash it into his face.
"You blokes better have cleaned the ruins out good, 'cause me and me boys are going to get a few more leaper lizards today," Kleiver said, waving his own Peace Maker at Jak's face, "and I don't want to see a single worm."
"Fat chance," Jak said, giving Veger a nasty look, "but if you do, you could always trade them something."
Veger eeped, but nobody had any sympathy.
During this conversation, Sig glanced over Kleiver's massive shoulder towards the row of dune vehicles on the other side of the parking area. A small head crowned by teal-green hair cautiously peeked up above the back of a Sand Shark. In front of the vehicle stood a box of working equipment and a small heap of engine parts. It appeared that Keira had found something to do while waiting for the result of Sig's talk with Jak, but how she had talked Kleiver into letting her poke at his beloved machines would be an interesting story to hear. The wastelander sent her a grin and nodded, which caused a wide smile of relief to take over her features.
That was when the gate to the city itself opened. Sig looked up, and stiffened slightly. Keira noticed this and followed his gaze in confusion. She received no better knowledge from this study.
Nobody else seemed to notice the person entering the area, leaning against a wanderer's staff to even out her staggering stride.
"Nah, I'm saving this one," Kleiver said, motioning at the trembling Veger.
"When you decide to make a snack of him, let me watch," Jak replied, grinning even more evilly.
"Maybe if ya get me a couple of them leaping lizards…"
"Kleiver!" Sig sharply said.
"What?"
Kleiver glared at Sig for disturbing such an enlightening discussion, but turned to look when the other wastelander nodded to the side. The remains of his eyebrows twitched.
"Morning there, Madame," he said, lightly bowing his head while moving his free hand in a wide arc.
It was one of the worse parodies of a bow that the world had ever seen. Despite this, he backed off when the woman nodded at him to move.
Jak looked at her with idle curiosity.
"Ohh, another scary one!" Daxter concluded in a far too loud whisper, "and this one ain't even pretty."
Which was very true, though tactlessly spoken.
When she was younger she might have been beautiful, but like almost all the other wastelanders – men and women alike – Jak had seen, scars from battle crossed her face. Her lips were split at two places, and the left eye was hidden beneath an eye patch. Years in the desert had worn on her skin, which now appeared leathery.
What could be seen of her left arm, holding the staff she supported herself on, was in no better condition. The other arm was completely hidden in the long sleeve of her light, worn dress.
Probably to protect her head against the sun she had wrapped her hair up in a rough wool scarf, pulled down far enough to obscure her eyebrows.
She met Jak's gaze with hard eyes – not cold, but steely.
The woman completely ignored Daxter's comment and turned to Sig.
"Are you done?" she asked.
"Piece of cake, once we got them to crawl out," he reported.
"Good, good…"
She turned her head again, and narrowed her eyes at Jak. He scowled back. Yet another one who needed to work on making a good first impression. At least she had not called him an amateurish wannabe yet.
"And you would be Jak, of course," she said.
Here we go again. He crossed his arms, inwardly growling.
"Who's asking?"
Had he not been busy giving Veger warning glares o' Doom, Kleiver would have cackled at the familiar question. The shirt-wearing ottsel stood up on his "partner's" shoulder, a lot more alive than he had been in the last two days – but Kleiver's look kept his mouth shut.
"I've got something to do, so I'll mosey…" Sig said to the world in general.
He hefted the Peace Maker on his shoulder and headed towards the entrance to the city, giving Kleiver an exhorting look. The vehicle master hesitated to miss a good show, but finally shrugged and turned to follow Sig.
The gate closed behind them.
"I've seen you in the arena," the woman said.
"Yeah, I think most people here have done that," Jak replied, impatiently.
"We still didn't catch your name, Miss zigzag face," Daxter said.
Not even as she spoke did her gaze leave Jak's face.
"That's Madame to you, rodent," she said.
"I'm not a Madame!"
She moved her staff to her other hand, and when the right hand emerged from the long sleeve it was revealed that only a pair of stumps remained of her little and ring finger. Daxter, of course, never missed a chance to drop a comment about anybody.
"Ew, nasty…"
The woman kept ignoring him, watching Jak for another moment. Then suddenly her left hand shot forwards like an attacking snake, too quickly for even the battle hardened warrior to react.
"Hey!" Jak protested.
He broke away, but not before she had managed to turn his head to the side. His chin even throbbed from the pinch.
"Watch it, do ya know what happened to the last guy who grabbed him like that?" Daxter said, wagging a finger at the offending lady, "he got smashed, mechanized and blown to teeny tiny pieces of creepo by yours truly."
"Just what do you want?" Jak snarled.
From her hiding place, Keira watched the scene unfold with growing worry. She debated stepping forwards, but was unsure whether that would help or not. The situation seemed so askew that she could not tell what was really going on, as lost as Jak and Daxter were. Furthermore, she had stayed in hiding so far because she did not want Jak to realize that she was the one getting Sig to talk with him. She wanted Sig's action to appear as sincere as possible, and exposing her role in it might just make Jak doubt that his wastelander friend had really cared.
The woman, meanwhile, turned away so that the eye patch obscured the only possible eye contact. Pressing her ripped lips so tightly against each other that the skin turned white, she momentarily lowered her head.
"My name's Elda," she finally said, "I-"
"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Daxter interjected.
Elda grunted something, lifting her hand to rub her forehead beneath the cloth. Suddenly she looked very tired.
"Damas' death shook Spargus very hard," she said, "but, none of us doubt that he died like the warrior he wanted to be until the bitter end."
Jak swallowed hard to rid his mouth of the bitter taste. He had thought that it would leave him alone for a while, but this woman only reopened the wound which Sig had tried to help him stitch together.
"Look, I- I'm…" he started, grasping for something to tell her.
He could not even decide whether to be angry anymore, not when she leaned so heavily on her staff, as if the grief for a lost king was about to make her fall. But as he stumbled on his words, she straightened up and sharply looked at him.
"Sorry?" she said, "I don't blame you. Damas did only what he wanted to."
"How much longer is this going to take? I want to get back home to my sweet Tessy…" Daxter muttered.
This finally earned him Elda's attention, at least.
"Did anyone ever tell you the meaning of patience?" she asked, lightly shaking her staff at the ottsel.
"Oh yeah, many times," Daxter said and proudly crossed his arms, "I never listened to Samos' lectures, though. And I still became a precursor, so ha!"
"Look," Jak said, "I don't like talking about what happened, so if you'd-"
"I do have something important to tell you, boy," Elda interrupted him.
She closed her visible eye and shook her head.
"Just… give me a minute…"
"We've given you plenty already!" Daxter said.
Elda massaged her temple as if she was starting to develop a headache, but began speaking again.
"The last few weeks have been insane-" she started.
"Tell us about it!"
"… Yes, you two would know better than anyone."
She straightened up and glared at Jak again. He felt more impatient by the second, but her strange actions still managed to spark a small feeling of curiosity deep down inside him. Therefore he let her continue without interrupting.
"On top of all the attacks, we learn that the precursors are a bunch of silly rats-"
"Hey!"
"- and now, there are rumors flying around that Damas' son is still alive."
Jak's fists clenched, and he did not even notice it. Elda studied him, if possibly even more intently than before.
"The people of Spargus held a meeting last night and in the end I was given the task to investigate the rumors. Now, some say they overheard the Haven people explaining that it's you who we should call our heir."
She looked him over, eyes hardening again.
"But Mar should be five years old, and unless you are the biggest warrior child in the world it can't be you," she said.
Jak opened his mouth, but he did not even know where to start.
"Even if you are disappointingly short, if you are somehow Damas' son," Elda added.
Bingo. He had known that there would be something.
"It's not the size that matters!" Daxter protested and patted Jak's hair, "trust me, lady, I know!"
"I never said that your friend is weak," Elda retorted.
"Short, weak, it's all the same."
Daxter paused for a moment, then smacked his hands over his mouth.
"Crap! Now I sound like Pecker!"
"Anyway!" Elda sharply said and turned back to Jak, "I asked Sig, and he told me what you told him. Now I ask you, is such a crazy story true or did you drink too much cacti beer before the bedtime stories?"
Jak shook his head.
"Kor, the precursor stone, a kid and timetravel?" he said, "was that what Sig told you?"
"That's a hefty summary, but it sounds familiar," Elda said, "though I don't see any proof."
"Kor gave us the whole story, we kicked his ass and then sent junior and newbie-Samos back in time so that mini-Jak could grow up like he should," Daxter said, "sheez, what more do you want, lady?"
But Elda had returned to ignore him and focused her entire mind on Jak again. Giving up, he began digging in his pockets.
"This is the amulet Damas gave me when he asked me to find his son," he said, speaking through his teeth to keep his voice steady.
Damas' dead body father is dead and I never-
With all his will power he forced the memories back under control, but his fingers still trembled slightly around the strangely shaped trinket. He handed it to Daxter after taking heed of Elda's slow nod, and then reached into another pocket, withdrawing a similar amulet.
"This is mine," he said, "it's the same that the young me wore."
He glared at Elda, the painful subject raising his shackles all at once.
"Happy now?" he growled, "proof enough?"
She did not reply, instead she reached out her still complete hand and carefully touched the amulet with her fingertips.
"Hey!" Daxter impatiently said, "done yet? I'm itching to get back!"
"Yes, I'm almost done…" Elda said, her voice suddenly soft.
She met Jak's mildly surprised gaze again, a smile spreading over her torn lips.
"I'm sorry, I lied to you," she said and reached upwards, "while there are rumors flying I did this questioning all on my own accord."
With a swift pull she ripped the scarf away from her head, revealing a burr of darkly green hair and a pair of eyebrows in the same color.
"Damas used to be blonde when he was younger," she said, "I guess you got that part from him."
Jak felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe, staring at the woman in front of him with his mouth falling agape.
'What the hell is she saying…'
"No frickin' way!" Daxter squeaked.
Her smile unwavering, Elda reached into a pocket of her own and withdrew a small circle with a plate on, all made in warmly orange precursor metal. She turned the ring to reveal the plate as bearing the familiar Seal of Mar.
"He gave me this on our wedding. Proof enough, Mar?"
The morph gun hit the ground.
"Mo… ther…?"
Tears welled up in Elda's eye and she nodded, forming a silent "yes" with trembling lips.
Jak could only stare at her, his hands awkwardly rising up but falling back again, helpless to know how to handle this new situation. It seemed like Elda did however, as she stepped forwards, slowly only at first. Daxter made use of his survival instincts and leaped away from Jak's shoulder before the hug ensued. The staff hit the ground beside the morph gun.
It took Jak a moment to wrestle his mind back into gear, at least enough to automatically wrap his arms around Elda's back. Her left hand found its way to his cheek while her tears continued to wet his armor, and despite the rough skin the touch sparked something far down in his mind. Not enough to be a memory, but maybe the memory of a memory, not visual but just the recalling of his skin feeling that very hand.
It was too much.
All the pain he had forced down after Damas' death wrung him over and his face crashed against Elda's shoulder, the first tears since he was ten years old breaking through his defenses.
Two people clutching each other as sobs racked them, forgetting everything else but the realization that they were not alone.
And behind the Sand Shark, Keira curled up against the hot stone wall, pressing a hand against her smiling lips while tears flooded down her cheeks. She had never seen anything so beautiful.