Weakened and hazed by rolling clouds of lingering smoke, the sun rose over the port to illuminate a mournful scene. A bleak layer of ash and sadness now hung in the air, coating the waters of the harbour and the surrounding buildings in a dull grey. Everything looked tired and dead, like the aftermath of a battle, and the misty daylight brought no sense of ease or warmth to the people who gathered there.

Samos stood at the heart of it all, before the burned out remnants of The Naughty Ottsel, while Freedom League soldiers continued to pick through the still smoking wreckage. All blackened debris had been piled up to await removal, but they yielded no answers yet about the cause of this unexplained fire; everything was too scorched to even be identified, everything that was still left in one piece anyway.

He wearily removed his spectacles and cleaned them on his tunic, before replacing them with a trembling hand. It had been another long, intensive, sleepless night for him, another one to add to the too many he'd already had this week, and the fatigue tingled throughout his entire body. He knew he couldn't keep going like this at his old age. This unpredictable tragedy could not have come at a worse moment, and he needed time not just to process all that was unfolding, but to rest also.

Then he looked to the growing crowds of civilians behind the guard barriers, all bearing looks of wounded devastation when they saw what had become of their beloved pub. Though nobody had been killed in this terrible fire, Samos, being the wise sage that he was, knew that the cost of it would be just as demoralising. The Naughty Ottsel had become one of the most respected and beloved public establishments in the city, a focal point of morale frequented by many, and the loss of it would strike the people hard. Not only that, but they would want an explanation, and if they did not receive one, then rumours would quickly spread around the city with all the ferocity and heat of the fire itself, and nothing would extinguish the interest once it had taken hold. That was why they needed to get to the root of this disaster, and find out exactly what had happened, the sooner the better.

There was something else on his mind too. Now that The Naughty Ottsel had succumbed to flames, he could not ignore the eerie similarities it shared with the great fire that still raged out of control, far away over the ocean, at the black mountain that marked their enemy's presumed homeland. Though it was not spoken of out loud, others in the Freedom League who also possessed this knowledge were thinking the same things, and a new unavoidable possibility was creeping through their minds like a disease: whatever destroyed their enemy's city might also be responsible for the fire here in Haven, and whoever or whatever that was could still be at large within the walls. This whole situation might run deeper than even he could have imagined, but he had to be sure before he could make any firm conclusions. This investigation had barely begun.

The clean-up continued, and once it became clear that there was little else he could do here, he gathered Vis and the other highest ranking individuals in the area for a quiet word. He gave them their orders which were to be followed exactly, before he announced his departure.

"Continue your work here, and tomorrow send me an update on anything else you find. Avoid speaking to civilians too openly on this matter until we have a clear picture of what really happened. And cast the net wider, start searching further around the city for clues, interview witnesses who were in the building before it burned. I do not know what we are dealing with here, but we need to account for every eventuality."

His men understood.

"Vis, I am leaving this operation in your capable hands. But now I need to check on my daughter."

Vis, now recovered from his break, readily accepted this responsibility. Samos then left the scarred port in the nearest cruiser which carried him back home. He dismissed the two soldiers still on guard there, and went in.

Inside the house it was quiet, and at first he could see nobody. But then he noticed Tess still lying on the couch asleep, and she began stirring softly as he stepped further into the house. She awoke slowly and naturally as if nothing had ever happened, but then she sat bolt upright in alarm, with enough force that she nearly launched herself off the couch with a cry.

"Shhh," hushed Samos, stepping forwards. "You're safe. How are you feeling?"

Tess quietened, but she groaned and held a paw to her head, which throbbed with a slow, debilitating feeling. "A little confused," she answered, looking around the room. "How… how did I get here?"

"We rescued you from the port," explained Samos. "Keira helped. She's fine, by the way, and Azyma is recovering."

"Rescued?" said Tess, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? What happened? All I remember is... fire and glass shards..."

Samos exhaled before confirming the bad news. "Tess, there is no easy way for me to say this, but I am afraid that The Naughty Ottsel has been burned to the ground."

Tess's reaction was blank at first, and the look of loss in her eyes deeply reminded Samos of his own daughter's, the day he had broken the news of the last battle to her on this very couch. Behind those eyes, she scanned her smoky memories. It began to come back to her now, piece by piece, and she once again saw herself on the concrete before the blaze. The terrible comprehension dawned upon her, and then she bowed her head and put her hands to her face.

"I remember now," she whispered in a sad, rough voice. "It was so terrible. Oh... Daxter would be absolutely devastated. I can't believe it's gone. What will I do now?"

"Right now you can stay here and rest," said Samos, his voice gentle and fatherly. "Take as long as you need. We'll take care of everything else. I'm sorry for what has happened."

He touched her with a caring hand before getting back up and stepping away. He knew that what she needed more than anything right now was some time alone to process the tragedy, so he made his way upstairs to look for Keira, followed by the tender sobs coming from Tess's place on the couch.

Upstairs, Samos knocked on Keira's door and quietly half-entered. The first thing he saw was Azyma tucked up in Keira's bed, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted, breathing softly in sleep. Keira herself was sitting on the floor with her back against the frame and her head resting on her knees. She looked up as Samos came in, her eyes bleary and bloodshot beneath a fringe of untidy hair.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

"Hmm," Keira hummed in a sign of acknowledgment. It was neither a yes nor a no. "Just tired."

Samos was not surprised, and he looked again at Azyma, studying her exposed, frail face. "How is she?"

"She got up actually," Keira answered, fighting back an exhausted yawn, "But the guards think she's traumatised. I'm helping take care of her, but I'm no therapist..."

"Do not worry about it," said Samos reassuringly. "The eco will help, and I will be here now if you need me. Tess is awake as well now, and she's sitting downstairs trying to come to terms with it all. I'll keep an eye on her. You just get some rest and stay with Azyma."

Keira tried to smile, but it faded. There was something else she had to say. "Daddy... I'm sorry about last night... I know what I did was —"

But Samos just raised his open hand in a sign of peace, and Keira halted easily. Though he was not pleased with how his daughter had behaved, he knew that this was no time to be angry. Besides, he was too tired. This disaster had really put things into perspective, and the lives and wellbeing of their friends were more important. If Keira hadn't run off as she had done, then Azyma might not have been saved. He could not punish his daughter for that.

"It's alright, Keira," he spoke. "You did what you had to do, and that is all that matters. I forgive you, Keira, and… I am also sorry for how I shouted at you yesterday."

Keira finally gave a faint smile of relief, and felt a great weight leave her mind, yet her head lowered back onto her knees. Sleep was coming, and soon. "OK Daddy," she whispered. "Thank you."

Satisfied that all was as well as it could be, Samos left the room quietly and returned downstairs to find Tess unmoved. It took a long time for her to summon the desire to get up, but Samos continued to give her whatever support and comfort he could provide, while trying to catch whatever moments of rest for himself that he could.

By midday Tess had eaten some food but still remained in a solemn reverie. However, she now felt brave enough to head upstairs to find Keira and Azyma, hoping to talk. But upon arriving in the bedroom, she found them both sound asleep.

Beneath the blankets of Keira's bed, Azyma was caught in silent, troubling dreams, the scent of smoke and burned hair still lingering around her. But Keira, her saviour, despite never having actually entered the burning building, looked the worst. Still in the light clothing she had donned in last night's haste, her limp body rested peacefully upon a pillow on the carpet, but the grit from the pavement and the ash from the air still clung to her in patches, and her hair was a tangled mess, more resembling a long-abandoned bird's nest than actual hair.

Tess could not find it in herself to disturb either of them, but noiselessly sprang onto the window ledge behind the bed to lay eyes on the outside world again. The entire city was uncharacteristically silent. A thin spiral of smoke still rose from the port where the bar had once stood, and seeing it again brought a fresh tear to her eye. She sniffed, reexperiencing the loss, and she once again thought of Daxter, needing him now more than ever before. She felt even more distant from him now that his pub was gone too, her last direct connection with him. It was like losing him all over again, and she had no idea what to do with her life now that such an important part of it had been burned away.

But she was still here, and she knew she had to continue somehow. It would not be easy, but Keira and Azyma would be with her. They would all need each other in the fallout of today, that was certain.

The next few days seemed to crawl by slowly in the wake of the tragedy. The destruction of The Naughty Ottsel had left its wounds on the city and its people, robbed of their favourite public attraction, and all of life now seemed to have slowed down to a dull speed without it. People wanted to know how this could have happened, but the truth behind the burning still remained elusive. The Freedom League investigation had turned up little so far, and they currently labelled it as an unspecified, unfortunate accident until further evidence could be discovered and surer conclusions could be drawn.

But they were not without essential information. Tess had already given her recount of what she remembered. She had been watching over the last customers before closing time, when an explosion had suddenly ripped through one of the back rooms and spread fire into the main bar area. She had hurried the people outside immediately, whereupon they all fled, but by then the flames had engulfed the whole building, swallowing the front door, and it was too dangerous to head back in for anything. But Azyma, who she had seen going into the back rooms not a minute before the explosion, had not come out. She remembered the terrible despair and shock that set in upon realising that her closest friend was in lethal peril and she could do nothing to save her. After that, things got hazy with grief and she could recall no more, blacking out and losing herself to oblivion. She couldn't even remember when Keira arrived to save her.

With her information, however, the Guard were able to piece together a slightly clearer image of the events immediately before and during the fire, and their attention next turned to Azyma. But she had been inactive and bedridden since the disaster, and was still in no healthy or mental state to be questioned. Some uncertain folk even began to suspect that she was in fact somehow the cause of the fire, but Tess stood to defend her while she was unable to defend herself, asserting that she would never do a thing like that, accidental or otherwise. But the doubt was still infectious until Azyma was well enough to prove her innocence and tell her side of the story.

Over the days, Azyma's health steadily improved. All of her physical wounds were now fully healed, and not even a scar remained on her now flawless and white skin, but the stubborn scent of smoke still lingered around her, and she still suffered from regular bouts of despair, and sometimes cried in her sleep. Keira, Samos and Tess always kept a close watch on her, taking it in turns. Keira even set up a temporary bed for herself on the floor of her bedroom so that she could be by her side as often as possible, letting her sleep in her own bed. Looking after her was a difficult and stressful task for them all, but with the continuing care, Azyma's distress gradually depleted. It took three days before she managed to speak again. Keira managed to get her to eat something once, and that seemed to really help. With each meal she became stronger, her vitality returned, and then she began to arise from the bed more frequently. But nobody pressed her to speak about what she had been through in the fire until she was ready to do so, despite the urgent pressings of the Freedom League who were still trying to hunt down the cause.

One day, while Azyma was still convalescing under the watchful eye of Samos, Tess eventually found the heart to return to the scene of the destruction with Keira. She felt it was a necessary thing to do, to complete the healing process, but what she saw there added fresh fuel to her sorrow. Nothing was left. An empty space on the portside marked where the building used to be, a lonely void of ash and scarred concrete. Standing here before it now was painful, and Tess still could not fully comprehend the fact that this had happened, even though the devastating proof was right in front of her.

It just felt so wrong, unbearable, and Tess found herself overpowered by memories that came surging back to her, replaying her entire history with this treasured establishment. The Naughty Ottsel had not just been her job, but had become her home too, her life, and so much more. Throughout the war, it had become a landmark of camaraderie, a safe place to gather and find mutual support. It had stood strong and impregnable through many a battle, surviving everything that hit it. But now that was all gone, reduced to nothing. There were still so many things that she and Daxter had planned out to help it grow and nurture into something truly spectacular, to make it the place that it really deserved to be, and that was what hurt the most. She couldn't imagine how Daxter would have reacted, had he been here. Maybe it was better that he did not see this. From atop Keira's shoulder, she shed another tear.

But maybe this was not the end. Maybe it could rise again from the ashes of the old. This swelling ambition caught Tess in its tidal current, too strong to resist. Could it be done? To start anew like this, right from scratch? Maybe. It would be a lot of work, a complete overhaul, but… it just could not be allowed to remain like this.

Therefore, she made the bold pledge to herself on that very day, on that very spot, that she would somehow, some way, bring it back to life, bigger and better than ever before. She had to. She must. And in its rebirth it would stand as a proud memorial not only to Daxter, but to everyone else who had been affected by the war and this tragedy. It would rise again, and she would be there to make sure of it.

At last, one evening, when Azyma was well enough and felt confident to reveal what she remembered, the others gathered in the bedroom and sat down around the bed to listen with full attention. She was about to give what could be the vital missing piece of the puzzle. Sitting on the bed, surrounded by her friends, and robed in Keira's own dressing gown, Azyma closed her eyes and forced herself to relive the harrowing events again. It was a terrible experience, but she had to get this out.

"I was… I was fetching some supplies from the underground storage room," she explained, and Tess, sitting close beside her on the bed, nodded upon remembering watching her leave the main bar area. "But when I got in there, all the lights were out and I couldn't get them back on, like they'd all been broken. I went in, but I got a little creeped out, and I could just feel that something was wrong. And then... it happened..."

Tess's ears twitched, Samos raised a bushy eyebrow, and Keira's eyes widened receptively.

Azyma continued after a short pause. "It was all so fast… someone leapt out of the shadows, picked me up and held me against the wall by the neck. I couldn't breathe..."

Azyma shuddered at the memory, still painfully vivid, and raised a shaking hand to her throat. She could still feel the phantom grip. Keira's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and Tess listened with concentration. This sounded disturbingly familiar.

As Azyma went on, her voice became more choked with emotion until it was no more than a whisper. "He was angry, and said something, but I don't remember what it was. Then he threw me across the room into the other wall, and it nearly knocked me out. Something fell on me, then there was a loud bang and the next thing I knew the room was in flames and he was gone. I knew I had to get out, but in all the smoke and the heat I couldn't find my way. I was so terrified..."

She inhaled sharply with distress, moved a hand to her mouth and then held her eyes tightly shut, trying to hold back the tears that were building beneath her eyelids. She turned her head away, ashamed that her friends could see her like this.

Tess reached out and drew her other hand into her own. "You don't have to go on if you don't want to, sweetie," she said, gently patting her hand. "I think we've heard enough now to know that it wasn't your fault The Naughty Ottsel burned down."

While Azyma tried to calm her emotions, behind her sympathy, Tess was already trying to piece together the information in her mind. She had the sure feeling that Azyma's mysterious attacker in The Naughty Ottsel, whoever he was, had to be the same man who had assaulted her in the street on her way home several nights ago. If that was true, then it appeared that he had targeted Azyma deliberately for some reason, and had perhaps intended to kill her in the fire he had apparently caused. Samos and Keira did not know about this yet, but remembering her promise to her friend, she did not voice any of this to them without a sign from Azyma that it was OK to do so.

She looked at them now, and Samos nodded once. He could tell that she had not been lying; it was clear in her damp eyes. "Thank you, Azyma," he said gently. "Your recount has been very valuable to us, but can you describe anything more about the one who did this to you? What did he look like?"

Azyma remained silent for a moment longer. She was now squeezing a trail of her long hair for comfort, and her fingers could feel the pieces of it that had been burned away, unnatural dry ends. Keira thought she was going to shake her head, unable to go on, but then she swallowed bravely and answered in a slow, automatic tone.

"He had long silver hair, and a stubbly beard. Metal teeth, and he wore all black. And he was tall... really tall, almost touching the ceiling..." She trailed off into silence again from there.

Tess scanned back in her memory and came to a worrying concern. "I didn't see anyone like that in the bar that night. I would have definitely remembered. How did he get in?"

"And more importantly," Keira spoke up, "Did he get out again? And if he did, then where is he now?"

That was indeed a serious question, and it made Azyma huddle closer to Tess for safety. They did not have the answers.

Samos decided to end the questioning here for tonight. "Thank you again, Azyma. I will alert the guards at once and pass them this information, so that we can find this dangerous man. We have a description now at least, which will certainly make the task easier. I'm sure there aren't many grey-haired metal-teethed giants wandering around here. He must not be allowed to remain a threat!"

"Don't worry, Azyma," said Keira comfortingly. "We'll get that guy."

Azyma remained silent, but nodded in thanks. The unconditional support she was receiving deeply moved her; she had not felt this calibre of kindness since before her days in the Underground, and it made her feel special, valuable and loved. Old and forgotten feelings were starting to reawaken inside her, ones that made her happy, and at last she felt part of a natural entity once more, like she belonged and had a purpose. A faint smile formed upon her lips, her first smile since the disaster, born from the knowing that she was surrounded by people who cared for her genuinely.

At last, she was part of a family again.

That night in the bedroom, when she was alone, Azyma slipped back into deep thought. There was something else she had not told her friends earlier that day, another forgotten memory that had stirred itself from the back of her mind, and now it was all that she could focus on. Something had changed since when this had all begun, when she had first been attacked outside her home, and unlike then, she now had a creeping idea of who her stalker might be.

So long ago it seemed, a dark day in her past was slowly revealing itself again, something she had tried to push aside and forget. There was something about that day now that seemed of the utmost importance, most notably one of the people involved. Surely that couldn't be the same man?

This returning memory troubled her, and something about it made her fear that she was still far from safe, even in the warm, protecting comfort of her friend's home, and if her attacker really was who she thought it was, then she might never be. As long as he was still out there roaming free, she could have no certainty of her security.

Suddenly, she felt an unexplainable presence behind her, and in a jolt of fear she gasped and turned around faster than she had ever done before.

Nothing.

The window and the curtains were still open, blowing in a refreshing night breeze.

Slowly, she clambered over the bed and looked upon the city outside, a safe distance from the windowpane. The wind felt like a dark breath on her cheek, and it gently ignited the stinging memory of the cut she had suffered at the hands of her oppressor. She lifted a hand to her face.

He knows, she thought, almost whispering the words to herself. He knows I'm here.