I don't know why I'm writing this when I have another fic to work on at the moment, but I guess I just felt like it. Oh well, who really cares why? I do it for fun and to entertain myself, not to question it constantly. And, for whoever cares: I do not own any of these characters! Now, enjoy!
Dusk finally arrived. The sunlight riveted through the tumbling black clouds, it shone through the gathered darkness, it pierced the people's minds. No one knew what was going on, but a few said the light was Mar giving his blessing upon his descendant, some said it was fool's magic and it would poison, some just thought it a gorgeous day, but no one knew for sure.
Silence stretched over the small valley as the hero's body was lowered into its tomb. The deceased's hair jostled in the wind, his clean tunic fluttered gracefully, and, if only for a fragile moment, the people could imagine Jak still alive. They could imagine him hauling a gun and saving them from the metal head raids, they could imagine- if they were ever lucky enough to see one- his smile, his bright flash of white teeth. The gathered people seemed to sigh in unison as the light breeze settled and the illusion of Jak laying there, just asleep innocently, still alive, faded.
The birds in the trees sang their sad songs, swaying sadly in the branches. Their tones, both high and low, their songs, both slow and sad or fast and impatient, rang out. It lulled the people, and many began to weep. It was so quiet… it seemed you could hear the tears rolling down their owner's checks and splashing on the ground.
The air lifted again and the knee-high valley grass swayed gently, the steady motion transfixing the people. It was as if it were an ocean. As far as the eye could see, the grass leap on itself like waves, lapping at the people. It whispered to them, light and wispy. It glistened and called to them. As much as the people wanted, they could not make its eerie whispers stop. The words hissed in their ears, though none could decipher its meaning. It scared everyone. Women held wailing children, at the same time clasping their own ears, and men decided that the valley was haunted. They gathered up their families and left. Why would they stay? It's not as if anyone personally knew the eco freak that was now buried under the sturdy soil, a headstone planted firmly at the base of the tomb.
But a few lingered, if only to say goodbye one last time. There were four to this lonesome group. A tall man with red dreadlocks, another red-headed female, a green-haired mechanic, and, last but not least, an orange ball of fur. They did not cry, not yet, the reality of the situation had not yet soaked in, they did not yet feel that their friend was gone. The hero, the last descendant of Mar, was gone. There would be no more Jak, there would be no more blonde-haired beauty… he was gone. It seemed as if his loss had happened so soon. One moment, he was happy and healthy, the next, he was in the emergency room, mortally wounded. Where had he gone? What had happened? Jak had not lived long enough to tell anyone the story, no one knew. Had he tried to fight a metal head too many? Had someone been angry with him and murdered him? What had happened?
The four trudged back to their zoomer after a slight drizzle began, the dazzling sunlight now overtaken by the inflated storm clouds. The rain trickled gloomily out of the sky, wetting the normally dry soil. Each drop echoed in the group's ears, vibrating turbulently. Their minds were hollow and none of them could think clearly. Their feelings were tied in knots and tangled. They couldn't tell the difference between anger and that vacant feeling, they couldn't tell remorse from pure pain… nothing felt right. They were all so numb that it was hard for any of them to feel anything.
The mechanic couldn't feel it when the red-haired male rested a hand lightly on one of her shoulders in a concerned way. She couldn't feel the rain drops pelting her face. Even her ears were numb, blocking out people's sympathetic words. She had been friends with the blonde for the longest, she had known him since they had been silly teenagers in the village.
But what the hell did it mean to her now? She would have to start over, plans with the underground would come to a halt, the Baron's defenses would seize the opportunity. But why fight? What was there left to fight for? Haven was nothing, they couldn't save it… At least, not without Jak. Sure, they still had the ottsel, but it wasn't the ottsel that made the man. If anything, it was vice versa. But now the man was gone, Jak had passed away and nothing would ever bring him back.
The red-haired female sighed. No one could get through to the mechanic. She herself was devastated, but the other woman even more so. At least the red-head knew what she had to do, she knew she could get past it if she kept herself busy. After all, not every woman was next in line to rule Haven City, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at this, for Jak was the one who was truly to be on the throne, he was the true heir to rule Haven. But he was gone now…
The ottsel slumped on the mechanic's shoulder. For the first time in his life, he felt unmistakable heart-ache and pain. His one true friend was gone and he felt so lonely. Not even the woman's shoulder was the same. Everything reminded him of Jak. He looked at the birds hiding snuggly in their nest, remembering when Jak would laugh him when he chased them from their perches. He looked at the honey-sweet flowers below the speeding zoomer, the memory of Jak first pointing out the smell rushing to him. Oh, how hw longed to have Jak back. He remembered sitting on his firm shoulder, the different feelings as he relaxed and tensed. He remembered the comforting feeling of his sinew straining and tough. Never again would he be comforted by those feelings.
A tear trickled out of the orange ottsel's eye. He remembered his friends deep, blue eyes, how they studied every little detail, no matter how insignificant or unusable. Everything, absolutely everything, reminded him of his deceased friend…
Dreadlocks of flame, it was his turn to sigh over his own sorrows. He recalled the perky young adult, how cocky he had been, thinking he could outdo anyone. He remembered him jumping at every challenge tossed out on the table. But he had risen to every challenge he was put up against, he had defeated every obstacle and put the underground ahead by ten steps. The underground… what would they do now? Would they lose their footing in the slick game of good versus evil, or would they stay ahead of the game? What would become of everyone? Not just the underground and Jak's close friends, but everyone? Would the city lose all hope and eventually fall under destruction? At this point, who'd give a care? Haven was dying. there was hardly any hope at all, and, to top it off, Jak was gone…
Okay, I'm really sorry if there are any errors in here, I just wrote all this in a little over fifteen minutes. R&R, please. Constructive criticism are good too. What did you think was good, what do you think needs work? (Oh, and if you didn't read the summary, this is a one-shot.)