II.
At first it was panic that spread across Zaon's face, but he quickly changed his disbelief into a grin that literally went from ear to ear, and regained his composure. "Still nineteen I see, little brother." Zaon mocked as he made his way toward Tavist. "Damnit I thought you were dead!" He sounded mad, but if he was the look on his face did not betray it. He hugged Tavist tightly. "I thought you were dead!" He repeated squeezing tighter.
"Well, you don't look any different." Zaon restated, snapping out of his daze at once, as he looked Tavist over again.
"Nor do you." Tavist spook at last, a bit sheepishly. It was true, Zaon was just as Tavist had remembered: the tallest man in the room, though his shoulders were not particularly broad, with messy black hair that covered his forehead, and eyes that were the cold color of ice, as fearsome as they were handsome. The slight lines that were now around those eyes were the only indication that it had been six years since they had seen one another. His lips were pouty and full, but perhaps a touch to wide, and when he grinned, as he was now, they stretched the entire length of his face. He wore little more than the guard uniform that the men who served him wore: combat boots, loose white trousers, and a purple and yellow tunic over mail, with black gauntlets. Zaon wore no mantle, as the others did, but instead the brown leather strap that hugged him around his shoulders and chest and harnessed his patented folding bill. The weapon came jutting out from both of his shoulders, the tradition Rhonso bill on one side, with a custom cyan inlay, that matched the headdress Tavist wore now. At the base of the blade, just below the lower parrying wings were two vibrant red phoenix feathers. From the other side came the folded base of weapon, where small tree branches made of steel, also matching Tavist's headdress, appeared as if they were growing from the wood of the weapon. Dangling from Zaon's hip was his infamous eight shot crossbow; which rumor had that he had never had to use the eighth bolt, though Tavist knew this to be merely a figure of speech.
"You are kind." Zaon responded. "I wish we had more time to catch up, but I have some business to attend to upon the ship Bane before this evenings ceremony." He was still smiling.
"Yes, of course," Tavist said feeling disappointed. "Will you have time to meet before the ceremony?"
Zaon thought a moment; "Actually, to tell you the truth I could use company now." He cleared his throat. "Vania was a one woman army, and I am trying to tend to her duties in the mean time. Trying being the operative word." He laughed at himself. "On top of being insurmountable it is lonely, would you care to join me?"
"Of course." Tavist said without hesitation. "I know how harrowing the solitary life can be, especially amongst such a vast group of people."
Zaon stared at Tavist for a moment longer, his expression unchanged. "I cannot believe that it is you, we were told that you—"
"Died on the beaches at Mushroom Rock." Tavist finished for him looking away. "Sometimes I still wish that I had." He took a breath. "I wonder why I was spared, why no one else on that beach had my luck…" He knew that there wasn't anything to be said to such a statement. "I took to solitary life for a time, returned to the Farplane, worked as an attendant again."
"You've done that before?" Zaon asked, knowing the answer, but not knowing what else to say.
"Yes." Tavist responded. "I've taken up the name Dab, in tribute to my birth sister, and worked as a clairvoyant."
"But now here you are, donning your best armor." Zaon observed. "It would appear that you are playing the part of warrior once again." He said pointing to the basket hilted bastard swords on both of Tavist's hips.
"No." Tavist said trailing off. "I'm trying to play the role of son."
Zaon put his hand on Tavist's shoulder, his grip firm. "She loved you just as much as she loved me. To Vania, you were her son." He gave an uneasy laugh that did not belong. "She would have liked to have seen you I am sure."
"She has seen me." Tavist responded ominously.
Zaon only gave the same uneasy laugh; he had never put too much stake in Tavist's connection to the spirit world or any kind of magic really. "Let's be off to the ship." He said his eyes still fixed on Tavist.
"In my mother's place I have thrown my support behind her chief of security Luluna." Zaon told Tavist as the smaller man worked to keep up. "But, it is not up to me alone, the whole of the city council will vote and there are three people who seem to be in contention."
"I should hope Luluna is one of them." Tavist said.
"She is."
"Then who are the other two?" Tavist asked
"Myself, naturally I am Vania's heir in most all other things why not this city too." Zaon said with contempt.
"And you do not wish to be mayor?" Tavist surmised.
"No." Zaon said quickly, "And I will urge all those who would vote for me to vote for Luluna."
"Naturally." Tavist smirked.
"Naturally." Zaon mocked Tavist not realizing he had been mocked first.
"This is the ship of the Commander of the New Crusade Fleet in Luca, Bane." Zaon continued as the ship came into sight. "Captain Dax, he likes to be called." Zaon scoffed. "Though I hear now he is a Vice Admiral of the whole bloody New Crusade."
"Dax is short for Daxter?" Tavist asked, thinking that it could not be the same person.
"I am not sure." Zaon thought for a moment. "I never thought that it was short for anything, he seems quiet the peasent; but, I guess you never know." Zaon shrugged.
It can't be him. Tavist told himself again as they made their way up the boarding dock of the ship Bane.