It was a new morning, a slow and sleepy start to the day, and Azyma was sitting at the kitchen table sipping some juice. Opposite her, Keira was savouring her breakfast. Azyma had finished hers long before; her appetite had made a full and healthy recovery alongside her strength and cognizance, and now she just could not help eating whatever was put before her with as much devotion as possible, to gain back the weight she had lost during her bed-bound inactivity.
As she finished off the last of her drink, she just sat quietly and watched as Keira ate, thinking over what they had been through together. She owed Keira her life for saving her in the port and literally carrying her to safety (even if she still couldn't remember it), and then taking care of her in her own home, even letting her sleep in her own bed, for the past few days. Such an experience had really strengthened the growing bond between them, even though it was only a couple of short weeks ago when they had first met. Azyma had never known anyone so selfless and kind, but it made her feel a little bit guilty for all the trouble Keira had put herself through just to help her, and she wished she could repay the debt somehow.
"Keira?" said Azyma softly, still watching her friend.
Keira looked up from her breakfast with her mouth full of food. "Hmm?"
Azyma wasn't sure how to proceed. "I… I'm not sure if I ever thanked you properly for saving my butt down at The Naughty Ottsel..."
Keira swallowed and dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it, Azyma," she answered, replying as if it were nothing at all. "What are friends for?" she added with a cheeky little wink.
Azyma smiled gently in response and leaned back in her seat as Keira resumed eating. There was the sign of a true friend, and it warmed her inside, a feeling that she was learning to treasure immensely. She let it resonate and absorbed every moment of it, just revelling in the beautiful thoughts it created. It made all of the hardship and misfortunes of her life feel distant and vague, like they no longer mattered, and it even seemed to bring the colour back to her skin for the moment, unless her eyes were deceived by the light in the kitchen.
She examined her left hand. Her pale skin bore no mark or scar from the fire, nothing to suggest that she had ever been through any danger at all. She wore fresh clothes too, retrieved a few days ago from her own home, for the ones she was wearing on the night of the fire were very much ruined now. Her hair was also a few centimetres shorter, where Keira and Tess had helped her trim off the scorched ends. By all outward appearances, she was fully recovered, all visibly detectable traces of the fire gone. But somewhere inside there was a deep-rooted wound still unhealed that always gnawed at her awareness, the traumatic memories that were less easy to leave behind. She thought she was slowly mastering them, but their threat was always there, and she was sure she would be feeling their effects for many weeks to come still, maybe even years.
"How long ago was the fire again?" she asked Keira. She knew she had asked before, but for some reason the answer could never properly sink in.
"About a week," answered Keira.
Azyma pursed her lips thoughtfully. Under any other circumstances, a week would not usually feel like a long time to her, but then again, she had spent most of those days restlessly battling with her inner torments, with little awareness of the outside world. Since the fire, she and the others had tried to distance themselves from what had happened, keeping a low profile at home, and just let the Freedom League work it out for them. It did make her worry a bit at how fast time had slipped by though, with no memory to mark its passage. She wished she could remember, but perhaps it was better that she couldn't. She had dusted her heels on the doorstep of death, and the process of returning to the normal world was confusing, like she wasn't meant to be here and life had continued on without her. She felt a bit aimless and lost, unsure of where to go or what to do next. After all, she didn't have a job to get to anymore, and she didn't think she was ready to return to living in her own home again by herself yet. Well, at least she would have her friends to help her, and they were all living together now, for however long it took for them to get back on their feet.
Then there was a disturbance by the door, and with a skip and hop, Tess came bounding into the room and onto the table and stood between them both. Her eyes were wide and beaming with interest, and she was carrying a rolled up poster. "Hey!" she said. "Look at this! These are up all over the city!"
She unrolled the poster before them, and on it in big bold letters were the words: ENEMY CITY IN FLAMES!
"What?" said Keira, pulling the poster closer to herself. Her eyes did not deceive her.
"Ah, I see you've got the news," said Samos, who had just entered the room as well.
The girls all turned to face him, standing in the doorway that led to the front living room. "Is it true then?" asked Keira.
Samos nodded. "Indeed, it is. Right now we have cruisers out at the enemy city, sending back constant reports."
The girls looked back at each other again, processing what this meant. It was the first update they'd received in quite a while about the war, which, it seemed, was finally over. But there was no raucous cheering or instant celebration. Instead they all simultaneously released a cathartic sigh that had been festering inside them for the best part of a whole year. At last, there would be no more attacks. At last, it would be safe to walk the streets without fear of death, and without having to constantly look to the sky for signs of danger. At last, normal life could have a chance to continue.
"But unfortunately," continued Samos, "We cannot determine more until the fire burns itself out. Until then, we must remain diligent."
A look of confusion swept across the girls. "You mean... we didn't do this?" asked Azyma, unsure if she had understood correctly.
Samos shook his head ambiguously. "We discovered it in this state more than a week ago, quite by accident, actually, and it is still burning. But whatever happened out there, it does indeed seem hopeful now that we will see no further movements from our foe."
Keira's sharp mind, unable to rest even for a moment, started whirring again. She needed more information, for now they had another mystery on their hands. After everything they had tried, it seemed that something else had destroyed their enemy for them. Haven wasn't even responsible for this hollow victory? They needn't have sent out that bombing fleet after all, the one that had taken Jak away from her, and this actually planted a small seed of sad indignation in Keira's stomach again, like it had all been for nothing.
But then another wishful thought struck her, one that gave her hope: could Jak have done this? Was he the one responsible for finally destroying the enemy city? Was he out there somewhere by himself right now, still fighting for their freedom? Maybe soon he would be coming home? Keira imagined him standing triumphantly atop a pile of rubble, Daxter perched proudly on his shoulder, as the enemy city burned behind them.
Samos let the announcement settle, wishing he had more definitive answers to share. It had been decided at the Freedom League, in the wake of the fire at The Naughty Ottsel, to announce this previously withheld information about the possible end of the war, not least to serve as a partial distraction from the grief of losing the bar. It was probably now safe to do so, and so far, the city was taking it well. He was about to continue and say that all looked set to return to normal again, but then he remembered that the individual or individuals responsible for the bar's destruction had still not been apprehended or even identified. It did, however, remind him of something else that he had to tell them.
"There is some more good news as well. Someone has come to see you..."
He stepped aside, and a large, heavily-clad figure lumbered into the room, taking up almost the entire doorway. Azyma stood up in mild surprise, because at first she thought it was a Metal Head. The figure was very tall, dressed in dark leathers and plates of battered, spiked armour, and carried a fearsome-looking weapon that bore what looked like a Metal Head skull on its end. But this was no Metal Head, and she was instantly subdued when she saw the warm and gentle smile that was crafted onto his strong and chiselled face. The large man came to a halt in front of the table and looked down at the girls who were dwarfed by his mighty stature.
"Hello cherries!" said Sig in his deep, cheerful voice.
"Sig!" said Tess, recognising the familiar Wastelander at once.
Sig aimed his strong smile down at her. "Tess, good to see ya again!" he said, but then he lowered his head in solemn reverence and dropped his voice. "I'm sorry to hear about the bar. I know it meant a lot to you and Daxter."
His consolation touched her, but Tess was so pleased to see him that it was impossible to feel sad at a time like this. "It's alright, Sig," she answered his respect with a somewhat calm and controlled voice. "I know we'll bring it back somehow."
"That's great, cherry!" said Sig, instantly reverting to his usual cheery boldness again. "Save me an invite for the opening party, won't ya?"
Tess smiled brightly, full of promise. "Sure thing!"
Sig then turned to Keira and held out his large hand for her shake. "Keira, great to finally meet ya."
"Oh, you too," said Keira politely, returning the gesture, and her entire hand was swallowed within his gloved palm. She'd heard many great things about Sig from Jak, who had shared in several dangerous adventures with him, but this was the first time she had ever properly spoken with the large Wastelander face to face. He looked even more impressive in person.
"I know you're a close friend of Jak's," Sig said delicately, and Keira nodded solemnly. But Sig gave her a confident smile. "Don't you worry. He'll be back in no time. Jak and I have made it through some serious heat together, and if there's one thing I've learned, he's one tough skull to crack!"
Tess's smile was contagious, and soon Keira was wearing it too. Somehow, she really believed him. If there was anyone who could help them find Jak and bring him back home, it would surely be Sig, who could fight his way out of any danger.
Finally the big man turned to Azyma. "So you must be Azyma, huh?"
Azyma's stomach gave a pleasant lurch, her eyebrows shot up and a surprised expression appeared on her face. He knew her name!
"Well, let me just say that you're one fine-looking lady," Sig continued kindly. "I'll bet even Mar himself would fall on his knees and bow before the Metal Heads just to see a face as pretty as yours."
Azyma's mouth was open in speechless astonishment. Nobody had ever said such a compliment like that to her before! Her emotions flared, her insides fluttered, she blushed a deep pink, and failed to hold back a bashful giggle. She had to look down at her own feet to hide her face.
Tess was still smiling as well, but could feel Azyma's embarrassment, so she stepped in to ask a question. "So what are you doing back here in Haven City, Sig?"
Samos stepped up beside the large man, barely reaching his elbow. "I've called Sig over to help us look for the one responsible for destroying The Naughty Ottsel, and to provide some extra protection for the three of you, in case he tries to strike again."
He looked carefully at Azyma, who was still trying to control herself. He did not wish to say it out loud, especially during a moment like this, but he felt sure, that for whatever reason, she had been the intended target in all this.
Sig became suddenly stern, serious and threatening. "If this guy thinks that he can hurt my friends and get away with it, then he's forgotten to figure me into the equation!"
The three girls looked at each other, and each shared a great feeling of success and confidence, especially Azyma. Having Sig as a bodyguard would definitely improve their safety. Nobody would dare come near them while he was around!
"Now let's see about this so-called trouble-maker!"
Outside, there was a noticeable difference in the air, a lightness, a simmering release of pent-up tension, as if a heavy blanket of oppression had lifted from the city. It was a warm day, and the sky even seemed bigger somehow, more expansive, and the mood was positive, quiet and relaxed. But Azyma found herself preoccupied with other positive feelings.
As she, Keira, Tess and Sig all walked down the street together, she had trouble keeping a straight face. She tried to either look down at the path as she walked, or straight ahead of her, or off at some unimportant sight to her left, but her eyes were always magnetically drawn back towards the tall, handsome, muscular man on her right side. For some reason, she found herself unexplainably attracted to Sig and fascinated by everything about him; his deep voice, his tanned skin, even the strange metal lens he wore over his right eye. She wondered, what was that for? Had he lost his real eye in a fight or something? He looked like he had been through a lot in his life, and were those real Metal Head skulls crafted onto his armour? Had he shot and killed them himself with that terrifying-looking weapon he carried over his shoulder?
Being this close to him was both a comforting security and a source of nerves; she fiddled with her hands and her hair as she trotted along, there were butterflies in her stomach, flittering around in a constant tickle, and she couldn't pluck up the courage to look him in the face again, except furtively when she thought he was looking another way. Not only that, but she found that her voice had also retreated somewhere inside of her and wouldn't come out. Had he meant what he'd said to her back at the house? Or was he just trying to be nice to her because of what she'd been through? She couldn't stop thinking about it and the imagined possibilities.
Sig marched alongside her, tall and proud, towering over everyone else who passed by. His armour clanked and rattled with his long strides, two for every one of Azyma's. Keira was on his other side with Tess riding on her shoulder, just as Daxter used to do with Jak, feeling very confident and unassailable. While they chatted to each other, engaged in their own happy topics, Sig noticed how strangely quiet Azyma was on his left side, hurrying along like a shy shadow, and he felt the need to strike up some conversation to break the ice between them a bit more. After all, they might as well get to know each other.
"So Azyma," he said, and Azyma jumped and almost even tripped when her name was suddenly mentioned, "Tess told me you two met in the Underground, huh?"
Azyma chewed on her lip shyly, and swallowed hard before she could answer. "Oh… uh, yes…" she answered timidly, her voice a little higher than usual. She still kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, but now that Sig was actually speaking to her, she felt like she was stuck in the middle of a very big spotlight, one that made her feel hot, jittery and uncomfortable.
Sig gave a light chuckle, a sound which Azyma found very enticing and relaxing. "Ah, another freedom fighter, huh? Well, you were doing the right thing. I always knew that Baron Praxis was no good. He was a traitor, and a liar," he added darkly.
Azyma neglected to tell him that joining the Underground hadn't exactly been a willing choice for her, and the events leading up to that point in her life were things she preferred not to remember. "Mm hmm," was all she said, meekly agreeing with him.
When she didn't speak up again, Sig continued, figuring he should share something about himself. "But me, I'm a Wastelander!" he announced with obvious pride and relish, "And I've been king of Spargus for the last year."
Azyma listened, and thought to herself in light of the new topic. Spargus? Wasn't that that desert town in the Wasteland she'd heard Tess mention once? She wasn't fully informed of its history, but maybe she could learn so from Sig. Listening to him was easier than talking, she found.
"It's my home," Sig continued without further prompt, "And I swore to Damas that I would protect it. You remember Damas, don't ya? He ruled the city before the Baron overthrew him."
Azyma nodded vaguely. She had been only a child when Damas, the Baron's rightful predecessor, had been in power, still a little too young to properly understand the political upheavals taking place in the city. But she did remember with fondness those simpler, happier, less unstable days. So distant they seemed now.
"He knew what he was doing," Sig went on. "I kept an eye on goings-on in the city for him after he got thrown out. Then I got sucked up into some of my own adventures..."
Azyma was interested, and finally summoned the bravery to ask an inquisitive response question. "Like?"
It was only a small question, but asking it made her feel quite triumphant, and she awaited the answer with receptive ears.
But this time, Sig was the one who went quiet. Azyma, not expecting his sudden silence, bravely looked up at him, and saw his face now hardened in concern, though she didn't understand why. Tess did though, and she could tell what he was remembering, having partially shared in it too.
"I'd rather not talk about it," Sig said finally, sounding a little ashamed. "But all you need to know is I'm looking out for you now. Just stick close and you'll be fine."
He didn't speak much again after that, and Azyma, her confidence disappearing into shyness once more, hoped she had not upset him somehow without meaning to.
They were all heading over to the site of The Naughty Ottsel down in the port. Though Sig had already been fully informed about the situation by Samos, he had yet to actually see the damage for himself. He wanted to know exactly what sort of trouble he was up against. Probably nothing he couldn't handle, but it was worth a look anyway. Besides, as Azyma had just unwittingly reminded him, he had a history with the bar as well, a regrettable one which needed some closure.
Before it became known as The Naughty Ottsel, The Hip Hog Heaven Saloon was a seedy den of thugs and underworld criminals, owned by the reprehensible crime lord Krew, and Sig had been one of his strongest and most resourceful agents. Though his main job was obtaining Metal Head trophies with which to decorate the walls, he had never fully trusted his unscrupulous boss, who on a few occasions had used him to do things he was not proud of, and ultimately, disposed of him cruelly without any lasting reward for his loyalty. It was a necessary cover though, because it was better than working against him, and Krew's dealings and connections throughout the city proved extremely useful for his own ulterior goals. Tess had been there as well, doing her undercover barmaid work for the Underground, and often passed him the bits of illicit gossip she overheard, information that he could relay back to Spargus.
When they reached the port and stopped in front of where the bar used to be, a drastic change came over Sig. He seemed to become an armoured statue, cemented to the place by his own feelings of shock and disbelief.
"Damn..."
It was worse than he had thought. He was expecting at least some part of the building to still remain, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing left. Despite the regrettable part of his history that the old Hip Hog stood for, he had still formed an attachment of sorts with the place. Tess, who still felt the emptiness very vividly, was saddened by his morose look, and shared in this quiet moment of empathy, as did Keira.
Beside them, Azyma had also gone very quiet, as she stood in her own personal torrent of reflection. This was her first time revisiting the scene, and standing before the spot where she had almost died, the frightening memories from that night started fighting their way up through her body, causing an unpleasant shiver. Though the details were still vague, the feelings remained potent. Flames, heat, smoke, threat, that horrible face leering at her as a strong hand held her up against the wall.
Then she looked over her shoulder anxiously, sensing the ominous feeling that she was being watched again. The port's grey waters behind her were flat and calm, and the two docking towers on the far side stood tall and dominating. Nothing out of the ordinary, nobody but the normal citizens going about their lives, but in her gut she felt that something else was there, something unseen, scrutinising her threateningly, and plotting something terrible.
With her gaze still searching over the water, slowly and subconsciously she reached up and wrapped her hand around Sig's great arm hanging at his side, in the manner of a small child seeking comfort from a parent. The soft and pleasant movement on his arm drew Sig's attention, and he looked down upon her with surprised interest, her small, white hand curving around the crook of his elbow.
"Hey now," he said gently.
Azyma turned back with a jolt and suddenly realised what she was doing. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened very quickly in a gasp, and she immediately let go. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, and at once she looked away, mortally embarrassed, trying to hide the hot flush that must be colouring her face. What had come over her?
But Sig just smiled his warm, untroubled smile. "Ah, it's alright. It's what I'm here for." He looked back upon the empty space. "Don't worry, we'll get the guy who did this, alright."
But to be honest, that little touch on the arm was kind of what he needed right now.
Sig stayed in the city for the next couple of days. Since there was no Naughty Ottsel to run anymore, and Keira still hadn't been given the clear to return to work at the Freedom hangar, the girls found themselves with nothing much to do but to spend most of their time with him. Not that it was anything to complain about, for with him around, everyone felt much safer and happier, especially Azyma.
As the days went by, she slowly grew more accustomed to his presence, and talking to him directly became easier. During their times all together, she learned of his many great achievements during the wars of Haven City and before, and how he had been a valuable and loyal ally to Jak and Daxter. And boy, did he have some exciting stories to tell, tales of his many dangerous adventures in the Wasteland, battling the Metal Heads and the fierce warrior tribes of the desert, and he had both the trophies and the scars to prove it.
But despite his tough, intimidating and battle-hardened presence, he also had a very clear softer and gentler side. Azyma could not fail to notice how kindly he treated her in particular, coming all the way from his home and important kingly duties in Spargus to offer her personal protection. It made her feel incredibly special, and her admiration for him was growing every day. Soon, he was the single constant thought that was always on her mind, and his presence was a testament to how little she'd been focussing on her lingering traumas. Sig, it seemed, was the best unanticipated medicine she could ask for.
"Sig's very nice, isn't he?" she said to Tess one evening, as the two of them were alone together in Keira's room. They had visited her home in the slums again today to collect some more of her clothes and other belongings, and now they were finding places where they could be kept in Keira's drawers and wardrobes.
"Yeah, he is," Tess agreed happily. "He's great to have around in a fight, obviously, and once he's your friend, he's your friend for life."
Azyma broke into a pert, smitten smile, far from the first she had ever made since Sig's arrival, and hummed to herself in amusement. "He called me 'cherry'!"
"Oh yeah, he calls everyone 'cherry'," Tess explained pleasantly. "That's just his thing."
Azyma's smile faded a bit. "Oh," she said, and all of a sudden she felt a little less special. She asked herself: was she overthinking things?
Later that evening, Keira and Tess were in the front room with Sig, catching up on some of the main gossip from Spargus. Sig regretted that there had actually been little to do in the past months. The Wastelanders of Spargus could easily look after themselves, hence why he could afford to spend lots of his time here in Haven, and the Metal Heads in the desert seemed to be dying out or had migrated away, so he often now returned from his hunting trips empty handed. He missed his old sport, and there were still a few empty spaces on his throne room walls for some extra trophies. Even the Marauder attacks were becoming scarcer for some reason. This little visit to Haven City was a pleasant change to it all, a bit like a holiday in fact, and while he was here he could also work on the plans he had for strengthening the frayed relationship between their two cities. Many of Spargus's inhabitants were once citizens of Haven, but had been cast out by the ruthlessly paranoid Baron Praxis, sometimes for transgressions they had not even committed. Thus many still held grudges, and few were keen to return.
Upstairs, Azyma was still rummaging through one of Keira's cupboards, sorting out her clothes. While she was at it, she felt the need to slip on a top that was slightly smarter than the one she was already wearing; she wanted to look nice while Sig was here, but she didn't really own any clothes for special occasions, having never had the sort of money to afford any. But once she had found a suitable one, she then spent much more time than was necessary before the mirror, tidying and brushing her hair to make sure it was as perfect as she could make it. While here, she also noticed something curious as she peered closer at her own reflection: faint tinges of grey streaked into her deep purple irises. They weren't noticeable from a distance, but they had never been there before, she was sure of that. Had she somehow sustained them in the fire, or was it a strange side-effect of the eco that had healed her? Whatever it was, she hoped it wasn't permanent. But when she was finally satisfied, she admired her reflection and smiled at herself in surprise. She had never put this much effort into her own appearance before, but she liked the result.
Finally, she went downstairs again to the front room to join the others. She hesitated for a moment outside the doorframe, fiddled with her hair one last time, took a breath, and then walked in. Almost at once, she received another compliment from kind old Sig for her freshened-up appearance, which she politely thanked him for, unable to suppress an excitable grin, and then she took the seat nearest the entry.
For a while, conversation resumed as normal. A little later though, Samos returned home from the Freedom League, and he had yet more good news to deliver. He made his announcement to everyone, looking especially at his daughter. "I received word from one of our local scout parties this evening," he said. "They have just come back from Haven Forest and the Mountain Temple."
Keira's eyes brightened in expectation.
"They have thoroughly searched the area, and they say that there are no signs of trouble anywhere to be found. I guess now there is nothing stopping anyone from visiting again."
Keira leapt up in celebration, and then bent down to give her father a loving hug. She knew he had sent the order to check the place out, and now it was done. He was no longer forbidding her from visiting again, but he was unaware of how much this actually meant to his daughter. He was a little surprised by her reaction, as he had been expecting nothing more than a quiet 'thank you'. In fact, she was showing more celebration to this than the end of the war. But now it was clear that there was no ill feeling between them anymore, and they had all but forgotten their disagreement from before the fire.
"Ah, Haven Forest," said Sig reminiscing. "I remember when I used to go Metal Head hunting there."
"Well, the team saw no sign of Metal Heads or any other dangers out there today," said Samos. "So it seems now we can finally begin to restore it to the quiet sanctuary it once was."
"Sig, do you want to come with us when we go back?" asked Keira excitedly.
"Sure, why not?" said Sig. "And just in case there are any Metal Heads hiding out there, I'll waste 'em all and get me some new trophies!"
Samos gave his approval, happy to know that his daughter and her friends would be in safe hands. He would have to go out there himself again at some point, just to admire the abundant nature and to converse directly with the Great Tree. It had been such a long time since he had last visited the forest, or even left the city for that matter. A short vacation to the mountains would do him some good. But there was still so much to do within the walls. Maybe once he had sorted out the last of the city's problems, he would finally be able to indulge his desires.
Until then, he was happy for his daughter and her friends.