Jak and Daxter: Legacy
Chapter 16: Learning Some Things
If being the apprentice to the world's sternest sage was like rolling a boulder uphill, being a cook, cleaner, and teacher was like bearing the world on his shoulders. And that was only if Jak didn't think about the fact that his life depended on it.
Each morning as steam and wailing factory whistles flooded Haven's streets, Jak immediately dragged himself out of bed and down the attic ladder to keep the Willow House sparkling and fed. And each night, he either gave Symi lessons on green eco in the courtyard, or, as he was doing now for the very first time, chaperoned.
They were in a garden beside a marble and Precursor metal mansion, held aloft over the city by the floating bowl of Haven. People in silk dresses and long-tailed coats meandered through the grounds, their garb aglow with thin, embroidered tubes of eco, their hands shimmering with eco crystal wine glasses. One man was smothered in more green eco decoration than an infirmary could use in a day. The thought made Jak's gut clench.
He gawked at them all for as long as he could stand it, then picked a shadowed spot in the corner, away from the crowd, arms crossed and back against a hedge wall, focusing on the moonstruck ocean to the east. Being so high above Haven's walls afforded him one nice view, at least.
An ottsel head beside Jak's bobbed in the air, little black nose twitching.
"Something smell good?"
"Those beautiful bastards in the kitchen are preparin' eel soup, and I wanna know the second it comes out."
"You can tell that way out here?"
Paws kneaded Jak's shoulder, as if the ottsel was ready to march off in search.
"Let me guess: you want me to get you some?"
"Will ya?"
Jak chuckled. "Of course. But later, after the artisans are done."
Daxter's eyes gleamed. They returned to people-watching, as much as they could stand it.
The night started with the guests' sharing of lengthy titles amongst terse introductions, but as soon as the alcohol kicked in, laughter and loud discussions about trade relations with other cities filled the air. Sprinkled between was drama about big name families and other things Jak did his best to tune out before he could yawn himself dizzy.
A man more decorated in polished bits of metal than a Precursor ruin made his way to a stage near the entrance not long after the festivities had begun. The artisans Jak had come with lined up beside the stage, dressed in their respective eco color costumes, Endisa and Symi checking each other's hair, Roru standing with her arms crossed, and Sorcha smiling and waving at people.
The man on the stage ran a hand through his salt and pepper beard as he waited for total silence. He spread out his arms once all eyes were on him, a smile wrinkling the black geometric tattoos on his face.
"Everyone, I wanted to thank you all again for coming to this celebration tonight. If you'd asked me twenty years ago if I'd pictured myself as Haven's Grand Warden someday, I'd have only laughed. But after the untimely passing of our great Warden Tagan, they had to make do and pick someone to somehow take his place. This is the part where I'd thank our Baron for appointing me, but he's fashionably late, as always. Of course, he's probably cleaning up a mess I made. Let's hope we're not celebrating my promotion too soon, eh?"
The crowd chuckled.
"Ugh," Daxter muttered in Jak's ear. "Why don't they just line up and stuff their noses in his crack already?"
Jak covered his own mouth and tucked his head down, hoping no one could see his shoulders shaking as he tried not to laugh.
"Well, am I wrong?"
The Warden put his hand over his heart. "I won't make this speech any longer than it has to be, but let me promise you this: I will do my best to carry on Tagan's work and serve this city as it deserves to be served. We've made plans to work in tandem with Prince Erol and the honorable Krimzon Guard to keep our streets safer than they've ever been. I may not be Tagan, but I will do my best to be just as good, if not better."
Everyone before the stage clapped and cheered. The Warden dipped his head to them, then gestured towards the artisans. "Now, we have the talented ladies of the Willow House here to help us kick the night off. Thank you again, everyone. Be sure to enjoy yourselves. From death to life."
The crowd touched their hands to their cut ears and repeated the blessing back. Jak smirked as he tucked his pinkies to his palms instead, hidden under his crossed arms.
One by one, the artisans filed onto the stage. Bundled in their arms was the assortment of items Jak had helped them carry to the function: silk fans, eco crystals, long satin ribbons on staffs, and two large flower pots.
"Guess we'll finally find out what this artisan stuff is all about," Jak mumbled to Daxter.
"Anything's better than that display we just endured. Though, I'll admit: the flower pots have got me curious."
The performance began with slow choreographed movement to stringed music played by a musician behind the stage. Silent, graceful, the artisans spun and tossed the fans in their hands. Everyone watched for a while, then as the dance continued in simplicity, the crowd started to talk amongst themselves again, albeit in hushed whispers.
A bolt of blue eco shot out over them, stunning them to attention as its sparks clawed through the air. Even as far away as they were, the hair on Jak's arms raised, and Daxter's fur fluffed out. Roru grinned wickedly as all eyes fell on her and the music died.
She threw out another bolt that pierced the heavens above. As if to answer her, the sky - which had been starry and clear just moments before - swelled with a patch of gray clouds, then shot a bolt back down. Roru caught it, the electricity spilling over her palm in a thousand neon trails down her arm.
"Holy crap," Daxter used Jak's ear as a foothold to scramble atop his head, then stood to get a better look. "She makes that bolt you toasted that Metal Head with in Basinbreak look like a toothpick."
Jak's eyes were just as wide. I might have to ask her to teach me a thing or two.
Endisa stepped forward and motioned with her hands. A platform of red eco shimmered into existence above them, and Roru, still hanging onto the bolt's energy like a rope from the heavens, wrapped the bolt around herself in a swathe of scratchy blue light, and levitated upwards using its help. She balanced on the red eco platform with a single foot, then let the bolt fizzle out of existence, as if releasing an electric bird back to the sky.
Endisa grabbed two ribbons and followed, walking on spiral stairsteps of red eco panes - which formed just as her feet touched them - to Roru's side. She handed a ribbon to Roru, and they twined the ribbons around themselves in dance, Roru stationary in the middle as Endisa spun and flipped around her on constantly shifting crimson platforms of her own making.
Symi and Sorcha below started to toss up trails of both their ecos like yellow fireworks and gossamer green threads. The plants of the garden around them bloomed at the green eco's touch, and remnants of the yellow eco floated down harmlessly to the crowd like lazy flamefringe bugs. Jak caught one even in his far corner. It warmed his palm for a moment, then dimmed out.
The red eco panes shattered, causing him to look up again. But before Endisa and Roru could hit the ground, Symi gestured towards the flower pots. Massive vines sprouted forth at her eco's touch, and she wound them to catch the women midair, both still twisting their ribbons around themselves as they fell with their eyes closed.
They continued eco tricks and acrobatics like these for a while, using the crystals set around the stage to leech more power as time wore on (and their inner reserves likely wore out, Jak surmised). At some point, all four made their way back down to the stage to form a unified line, then tossed their ribbons high above. One by one, each shot out a streak of their respective ecos above the garden, and they caught their ribbons again just in time. A chorus of applause followed.
The party moved inside after. Jak found another shadowed corner to hide in, between a clock made of Precursor metal and a painting of Haven surrounded by flowered fields instead of dead land. As was his job as chaperone, he made sure to keep an eye on all the artisans.
They wove from table to table, speaking with guests, pouring them tea or wine, and offering extra little eco tricks to all who asked. Once in a while, one would run up to Jak and ask him to hold their drink, or watch over gifts they'd been given, but the rest of the time he and Daxter were left alone to keep a lookout for any servant trays with eel soup.
That is, until one man leaned against the polished wood panel wall next to Jak. He stood out, not only for his attire of plainer cloth and cut, but because of two other things: he wore steel pauldrons, greaves, and bracers, and less than half of his body was flesh.
He stood on legs metal from the knee down. At his hips were two pistols of fine make, but beside one of them hung a sword in a silver sheathe. Three of the fingers he rested on its pommel gleamed bronze.
"Not a fan of these events, either, I take it?" came his low, rumbling voice.
Jak shrugged and shuffled nervously. As the man had turned to speak to him, Jak noticed that the whole top of his skull and upper half of the right side of his face were also metal. The only hair he had were neatly trimmed brown mutton chops and a silver-streaked goatee.
"I got used to them over time, but a part of me always feels so out of place at big parties like this."
"Why's that?" Jak asked, more to be polite than out of genuine interest. He dug his hands deeper in his pockets and bit his lip.
"Grew up on the streets. Always thought I'd spend my life looking up at these towers." He chuckled. "I'm probably preaching to the monk choir, though. What part of the south are you from, anyway?"
Jak raised a brow. Why does he care?
"The farthest."
"Ah, must be green. I've heard tales about your people."
Yes, we're children eating savages, definitely, Jak spat back silently. And yes, I don't look green. You're the first person that's told me that, though. Really. Honest.
"They say a green sage can live for hundreds of years. Talented healers, too. Probably helps that eco down there's so abundant. No mining. No tech beyond yakows and brassbeetles and your own two hands, either. Bet those jungles and warm beaches are nice, though."
Jak looked the man in the eye for the first time. "Yeah, they are."
The man chuckled again. "You get it, then."
"Get what?"
He gestured to the room. "These people haven't known struggle like you and me. Working hard for your next meal, being grateful for every blessing thrown your way. Speaking of… you, help a man out here."
A Yin servant that had been walking by with a tray jolted to a perfect stop and clanked over after the man had pointed to him, bowing its head, handing over a glass. Before the servant could retreat, the man grabbed a second glass and handed it to Jak.
"Thanks?" Jak said as he took it.
"I know that look you've got. You need it, trust me."
They drank in silence for a while. Jak had only ever had cheap rice wine before. Whatever this was, it was sweeter and dark in color, and burned less as it slipped down his throat. Once in a while, he lifted the glass to Daxter on his shoulder and let him take a subtle lap or two. People mingled and laughed and slipped between each other across the room, unaware of anything but their drink and fun and gossip beneath the warm chandelier light.
Unaware of the half-metal man and Jak watching them like two outsiders peering into another world from one of cold shadows.
The man's hand tightened around his glass. "They think this is living. But they've never been close enough to death like you and me to understand what life really is. If only they knew just how precarious things are. How it's all just one drunken stumble away from collapse."
Jak looked up in surprise. The man's stare was sternly set on the crowds, only a sliver of green showing from his one eye.
"Someone's gotta hold the pillars that prop this city up from the muck. Someone's gotta bear the sins that buy pleasures like these." He sipped down the last drops of his wine, then set the glass on a nearby tray as a servant passed. Then came a sigh and a nod towards Jak. "That's why they put me in charge, I guess. I'm the guy that pays the tab. Well, I'd stay in this corner with you, but duty calls. Also, that clock's annoying as hell. Not sure how you can stand it."
Jak and Daxter watched blankly as he walked away and joined the crowd.
"What's with him?" Daxter asked. "A few bolts must have popped loose in that head of his."
Jak glanced at the clock beside them. It clicked a steady tick tock tick if one drowned out the roar of the party. Jak hadn't paid it much attention before, but now that the man had mentioned it, he couldn't tune it out.
He found his hand on his dark eco wound, fingers rubbing at it over his shirt. "Not sure. But he's right about that clock."
Jak spent the rest of the night watching the man, trying to discern from his interactions who he was. At the least, he was important enough for the new Grand Warden to bow to him, but over the noise, Jak never could make out what others called him.
As the hours dwindled, the throngs thinned out, and the artisans were performing one last short dance at the front of the room. They finished and Jak started to pick up the items they'd left beside him.
"Where'd Blue go?" Daxter said.
Jak turned back around and scanned the room. True to Daxter's word, there was nothing of Roru to be found. "That's weird. She was there a second ago with the others."
He waited a while longer. When she didn't show, he gave Daxter a shrug, then headed down to the floor. Daxter duck and wove behind and around his head as they passed others. Jak first neared Endisa, who was speaking to a small group of people, their eyes wide and frames leaning forward.
"-imagine? The way those armies must have looked as they faced down Kor, Mar at the head, armor shining beneath the rising suns as he raised his sword and struck the first blow against that mythic beast of horror? That sword was forged in red tribe lands, as you all know, crafted by…"
Sorcha was at a table telling jokes, casting Jak a bright smile as they locked eyes, then turned back to the others. Symi was admiring a Precursor artifact that resembled a shield, her hand pressed against its glass case.
Past the tables and near the front of the room, there were two exits, one on each side. Jak peered down the right one, saw nothing, then glanced down the left.
A girl with a sky-colored bun and a stars-and-river dress walked down the empty hall, then veered off past a corner. Jak and Daxter exchanged a glance.
"That doesn't look good."
"She's probably just goin' to take a leak. Still, couldn't hurt to follow, just in case."
Eco gaslamps hissed on the hall's walls, their flickering light doing little to pierce the shadows of the tall ceilings. To his left yawned an open window to the outside, the cold breeze of Haven Port and the hum of merchant airships drifting in through the black marble pillars.
The farther Jak ventured past the open window, twisting and turning after Roru, the more his heart pounded. The corridors were void of guests and sound other than distant glasses clinking. Roru was always ahead, footsteps silent as if she glided on a cloud, sometimes only visible by the ocean wave hairpiece atop her head glimmering in the dark between lamplight circles.
Where in Nadoa is she going? Do I even want to know?
He didn't want to make her think he was stalking her. But this was his first night on the chaperoning job, and if there was any chance she could run into danger, he wanted to be there to help.
Eventually, she stopped at a 'T' crossroads of halls, just beside a line of armor suits that on one end were a match to the Krimzon Guards', and continually down the other end shifted to more archaic forms in increments until they were completely bronze, resembling Mar's back in Forgesong. Roru glanced to the right, to the left, then skulked through a door dead ahead.
Jak crept up to the door and peered in, purple light slicing him in half through the crack she left it open by.
Within was a vast office with bookshelves lining the walls, nearly everything a dark, polished wood with glimpses of polished brass at furniture joints. Roru was already at the central desk, rifling through letters with trained ease. But only one caught her eye enough for her to pull it out fully.
It had a broken green wax seal with the initials 'HI' on it. She held it up, gaze darting back and forth over its contents, a smile lighting her face.
The look Jak and Daxter exchanged said everything they couldn't with words: what in the hell?
Once finished, she placed it exactly where it had come from, then put the others back in a near perfect reconstruction of how she'd found them. Looking more pleased than cat who'd cornered a kangarat, she started for the door.
Jak recoiled and retreated, looking for anything to hide behind. But that soon became the least of his worries.
"You'll do a fine job, Cern."
"Oh, you know that's pure shit."
"Well, yeah. But you'll be less shit than Tagan was."
Jak stared dumbfounded at the hall where the voices had come from. It was behind him; the way he and Roru had come, though the owners were still out of sight. Daxter patted Jak's cheek, then pointed at a side door nearby, down the hall to the left. Jak fled to it but not inside, waiting behind the left hall's corner to hide from the newcomers, but not from Roru.
Roru emerged. She gaped in shock at Jak, but soon turned towards the voices, expression changing to horror. The two of them exchanged terrified looks. Jak motioned to her to come and gestured towards the side door at his back.
To Jak's thank-the-Precursors-worthy relief, the side door was unlocked. He and Roru ducked inside and waited, not sure whether to gawk at each other, or through the tiny sliver he left it open by. When Jak pressed his ear to it, put a hand on his pistol, and nodded to her, she relaxed, then joined him with her own ear.
"I just hope we don't run out of volunteers."
"By Mar, don't remind me. Needing them in the first place is bad enough."
"I never understood why you care. No one will come looking for them."
"Here's my question: what would Mar think of all this? Would he really approve?'
"He would do exactly as we have done. Don't be so hard on yourself. Besides, one look at you and anyone would understand that you, of all people, know what sacrifices must be made to win a war. You understand that a hell of a lot more than the prince does, and he's Mar's own blood."
Jak opened the door a smidgen further. Outside was the new Warden and the half-metal man, lingering just beside the office. Jak's heart thundered louder.
"We're doing the right thing, Praxis. Don't worry, we'll find our answer."
Ice shot through Jak's veins. That's the Baron?
"I don't want to be remembered as the man who lost this city to those vile creatures."
Warden Cern put a hand on the Baron's shoulder. "You won't be."
"And just how drunk are you?"
"With you around? Not drunk enough."
They headed into the office, chuckling and turning the conversation towards the changes the Warden wanted to make for Haven Prison.
A soft blue light glimmered behind Jak. He twisted around to find Roru making her way through the room, eco in hand, wending past bookshelves and boxes to another door on the other end.
"They're in the office," Jak whispered. "Let's go."
"What if they come out when we're leaving? No, let's take this back route."
"We don't know where that goes."
"Away from here. That's what matters."
Jak raised a brow. "And what's even going on? Tess didn't mention this being part of the job."
"Not your job. Mine."
"What? Your job is putting on shows for people."
Roru rolled her eyes. "My job is a lot of things."
"What does that even mean?"
"Stop asking questions and get your dumb ass over here!" she hissed.
Jak sighed quietly and followed, though still kept a hand on his pistol, glancing backwards every few steps. At the end of the next room were glass doors leading to a balcony.
"Precursors bless it - an exit!"
Roru pried the doors open. Ocean wind blasted through, sending papers and book pages flying back at Jak from desks and shelves as he caught up. Haven slowly spun below the balcony, a blur of steam and countless lights miles down. Jak pressed himself against the wall, stomach churning at the sight.
"Now, this ledge should work just fine."
Jak grabbed her wrist just as she started to climb up said ledge beside the balcony. A flashback of the Mistarch hit him; of shuffling across a tiny strip of stone over a chasm. "What are you doing? You're gonna kill yourself!"
"Look, see those openings and columns over there? Familiar at all? We can either go back the way we came, and get caught and thrown in Haven Prison, or we can take this ledge back to the open window by the main hall and live."
"Wait, we can still-!"
Roru ripped her hand away and started making her way across without hesitation or fear. Jak stared dumbly.
"Now you know how it feels followin' you around," Daxter muttered as soon as she was out of earshot.
"Very funny."
"Besides, we've done this before. Just take it slow and-
"By Mar's holy… who are you?"
The deep voice came from behind them, back through the first room they'd hidden in. Jak could pick out a blur of red through the papers still fluttering to the floor.
Jak clambered onto the ledge, Daxter snapping his harness hook to Jak's pauldron strap just as quickly, and with eyes just as wide. Roru was already jumping in through the open window by the main hall ahead.
The wind roared into his ears and pushed against the estate hard enough that it helped pin Jak to the wall as he shuffled, but the smooth marble lent him no handholds. His dark eco wound seared every time he looked down, each heartbeat pulsing its flame down through his arms and torso.
An armored guard clinked onto the balcony behind.
"You! Freeze!"
A click. A yellow serpent of eco blasted past them. Paws adjusted on Jak's shoulder and, to his horror, another little eco bullet screamed back.
The guard cried out and grabbed his chest plate where a hole now sizzled.
"What are you doing? You'll just piss him off!"
"Leavin' no evidence."
There was another click by Jak's ear. Another gold streak sailed through the air. The guard stumbled forward as it bit into him, voice screeching and hands bloodying as he clawed at his own face. He wobbled, caught his legs on the railing, and tipped off the balcony.
Daxter made a descending whistle sound as the guard plummeted. He ran out of breath, inhaled deeply, and continued until the man was no more than a blood drop speck disappearing into the city below.
"Well, that sure made my night."
"Precursors, you're terrible."
"And you-" Daxter blew across the top of his tiny pistol and holstered it. "-are welcome. Now step on it before someone else gets smart!"
Jak made it to the open window where Roru had disappeared, letting out a sigh of relief as he reached the last shuffle of the journey. He stopped before a marble pillar, wrapped his arms around it to steady himself as he turned his back to the sky, the ledge beneath so thin there that he had to stand on his tiptoes, and then careened his foot to step inside.
His boot hit the stone, just missing purchase.
Free fall.
Two vices squeezed his right arm to near death and he jolted to a stop. His legs swinging wildly, other arm wavering to grab onto anything, Roru was above him, teeth gritted as she heaved backwards with all her strength.
Cold marble finally met his other hand. Using Roru and the ledge, he shakily got back up, slid over the window's edge into the hall, and laid there for a long, long time, wishing the floor could hug him back.
"So… that was-"
"We're not going to talk about it."
Jak, arms full of the artisans' performance gear, his right one bruised and legs still wobbly from the memory of having almost dropped to his death just hours before, stopped. "You expect me, after all that, not to say a word?"
Sorcha, Endisa, and Symi walked far ahead on Mar's Bridge, leading the long walk home from Warden Cern's estate, but Roru was beside him. She'd been at his side all night after her sneaking off escapade, glaring at him whenever he tried to open his mouth.
Roru balled her hands into fists. "Tess hired you to intimidate pigroaches at parties who think we're defenseless, nothing else."
"You're supposed to be artisans. Not whatever that was."
"Good. You understand. Now be quiet, pretend you saw nothing, and we can move on."
"But what did I see?"
"None of your business."
"Do the others know? Does Tess know?"
"Everyone that needs to does."
"Look, will me following you to make sure you're safe always end up in what happened tonight?"
"We don't need you to keep us safe. You're a prop for our events, like I said. Don't follow us, ever."
"It's suspicious, is all I'm saying."
"And you're not?" She put her hands on her hips and wove in front of him. "You walked into our house all bloody the other day. And your sage threw you out of your village? You're a walking red flag."
"My sage threw me out because I needed to come to Haven to find something."
"And that would be?"
Jak huffed and furrowed his brows. "It's… well, it's hard to explain. I can't…"
Roru crossed her arms and waited. When Jak's answer died from stuttering to irritated silence, she raised a brow, her smirk catlike. "None of my business, right? And you're welcome for saving your life, by the way."
With that, Roru strode ahead to rejoin the other artisans. They glanced at her, back at him, then busheled together and started whispering.
"Hey, I'm the one that saved your ass tonight," Daxter muttered quietly and snapped his tail. "Why's she tryin' to take my credit? And the nerve of her to go off and do somethin' like that! She's the reason I didn't get any eel soup."
"Whatever. She's right." Jak sighed. "It's probably better I don't know. I'm just here to earn money and not die."
But from that moment to when he slipped into bed that night, Jak couldn't stop the burning desire in his gut to know, every fiber of his mind on fire even as his body begged him to sleep. He picked at the mattress and stared out the window, pulling at a particular thread and trying to jog it loose.
"Uh, Jak?"
He stopped and rolled onto his side towards Daxter, who was an orange little ball on his velvet cushion on the floor.
"Sorry, it's just that I know that look."
"What look?"
"That screwy one where you glare into the distance and fidget."
"Oh," Jak relaxed his hand and softened his gaze. "I do that?"
"Yeah, a lot," Daxter rested his head back down. "Just forget her blueness and let's go to sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."
Jak was pulling at the mattress thread and glaring at the wall again already. "But what the hell happened? First, she runs off. Then I figure out the guy I talked to by the clock was the Baron. Whatever that conversation was about…"
"Jak, I'm just as confused as you are, but-"
"Then she's looking through the Warden's personal letters. And what were the Warden and the Baron talking about? Volunteers? Vile creatures? Would Mar approve? Approve of what?"
Daxter sat human-like on his cushion to face Jak. "Look, it's the Baron we're talkin' about, here. Probably some dastardly thing he's doin' to keep power. Or be a big jerk. Well, a bigger one. You saw Glowrend. You and me? We're street rats. Best to keep our noses out of all that stuff, like Blue said. Don't forget, we've got a big problem of our own to worry about."
Jak put his hand to his dark eco wound. "Don't remind me."
"Besides, why are you curious about it all in the first place?"
"How can I not be? Don't you want answers?"
Daxter shrugged, laid on his side, and picked his teeth with a claw. "Nope. I did want eel soup, though."
Jak sighed. "I wish I was you."
He returned to his back, then reached a hand beneath his own pillow. A cold metal object shone between his fingers when he pulled his hand out again; an emblem of two brass comets swirling around in a circle, their tails wrapped around the other's head.
Jak held it above, peering over its face, memories and exhaustion biting at his awareness.
"Identity confirmed. Test subject number three of PROJECT: LEGACY. Name: Jakan. Category: Kur. Age: Nineteen. Species: Achariyth. Gender: Male."
In his slumber that night, he dreamed of a dark blue figure, red things left just outside of doorways, and the tick, tock, tick of a Precursor metal clock.
"So I have to do all of that… and not die?"
"'Bout sums it up. Makes sense?"
Jak scratched the back of his sweating head. "Yeah. I mean, total sense. Do all that. Don't die."
"You've got it! Oh, this is going to be so much fun! No one else in the house ever wants to come here with me."
Sorcha - wearing an outfit of a similar racing style as Jak's but instead black and yellow - was beside him, her fists balled with excitement. They were standing in a stadium gleaming copper beneath the suns. Row upon row of black marble seats lined its edges, and a few of the pipes of Haven's skyline wound down to its center, where the whole city could be seen spinning below through a glass barrier at the stadium's heart.
The pipes had pulsed with light all morning. People of all races gathered to either participate or watch practicers, some clustered in the stands, others thronging around the gates at the entrance where large banners with figures embroidered on them swayed in the wind.
Champions, Sorcha had called them. The largest was of a familiar man with amber hair and eyes on a background of bronze and white; Jak and Daxter had scowled at it when they'd walked in. But there were four others not far behind: a woman with red dreadlocked hair and green eyes on a black and red field, a man with black hair over navy and silver, a Kig with pink colors, and a Klaww with gray and green.
Jak and Sorcha stood on a platform next to an opening of one of the tubes. The tube was a simple, self-contained loop within the stadium, not leading to elsewhere in the city like the others. Within it was a track interlaid with eco channel circuitry, surging with blue glow and flickering lights.
There were five grooves on the track in equal, parallel lines. A large gear stood in each at the start, balancing on thick teeth, their centers hollow.
"So, ready to give it a spin?"
Jak's heart drummed. He looked at Daxter on his shoulder, who matched his wary glance.
"Aw, look," Sorcha walked up to one of the gears and patted its side. "I got on one of these for the first time when I was seven. And it was just fine. Besides, this is the kiddie track. Nothin' dangerous at all. Fact, I bet by the time we're done here today, you're gonna be just as addicted as me."
He walked up to the gear Sorcha was at. Then he stared at the track. It was a simple loop, just as she said.
I can do this, can't I? I survived wolfadgers, Metal Heads, a rogue wave, last night. How bad could it be? It's the only chance at my cure. He focused on the familiar weight on his shoulder. Maybe even a cure for both of us.
Jak nodded. "Alright, walk me through it."
Sorcha gave a freckled grin. "Hop in! The eco bars should catch you."
Jak did so. The gear reacted to him, small circles of blue eco divided by a single line forming beneath each of his hands and feet. He wobbled to get his balance, then tested his weight on the lower ones, the eco somehow acting as something physical that could hold him up. Sorcha had tried to explain how it worked earlier, but all he got from it was something about Precursors being really smart, Mar stealing ideas, and levitation technology.
"Now lean, like we talked about."
Eco bars still supporting his feet, he grabbed hold of the ones humming at his hands and did as Sorcha asked. It seemed as if he was sitting on an invisible zoomer bike, suspended perfectly in the center of the gear with only the eco bars to hold him.
"Alright, now remember: both of 'em in slows you down, out gets you going. One hand to the left moves you a track that way, same with the right. Both up lifts you up. Both down spins you in place in the gear, in case you need to dodge anything that comes through your ride. Practice it now. Power's off, so you won't move yet."
Jak moved the eco bars in his hands, once pulling them together in front of him, out as far apart at his sides as he could, and then finished the rest of her instructions.
"Good! Safety's next," Sorcha reached in towards the space just before Jak's face. Another projection of blue eco popped up at her touch, and she pressed it as one would a button. Straps of energy wound around Jak's ankles, tying him to the lower bars. The inner rim of the cog came alive with two larger eco circles, both extending a beam down around his waist, meeting, and holding him in the sling they formed together.
"And him?"
"Who?"
"The little guy? Mascots don't ride with their racers."
Jak gave Daxter a questioning look. In response, Daxter scurried to his back. There was a familiar click of a hook, then a tugging at his pauldron strap.
When Daxter got back on his shoulder, Jak smiled and pulled his little goggles down over his face. Daxter used all his weight to do the same for Jak's, shuffled excitedly, then dug his claws in and leaned forward, ready.
"It's not against the rules for him to come, right?"
"I don't think so? No one's ever tried it. Also, just how smart is this rat of yours? Because it seems like-"
"Good. Glad to have him along."
Sorcha gave them both a perplexed glance, then shrugged. "Alright, then. Are you ready?"
"I think so."
She tapped another button on the panel. The groove beneath the cog started to glow and whirr with blue eco, sparking out.
"Remember, both out to go forward, both in to slow down. Let's just do a simple one track loop this time, nice and easy. No fancy tricks."
Jak took a deep breath, then tightened his grip on the eco bars. His heart thundered. His gut did somersaults. All he had to do was carefully take the bars in his hands, grip them tight, test his weight on the lower bars again, shoot Daxter a nervous glance-
Sorcha crossed her arms. "Sometime today, perhaps?"
Jak nodded. Lean forward. Tighten grip. Bars out-
He rocketed forward. Panic set in. He instinctively threw his arms and legs in every direction to stop. Instead, he was tossed and flipped from groove to groove, jostled up and down, ricocheted between light speed jolts ahead and sparking, screeching stops, and spun around in the cog itself as if tumbling downhill in place, the whole world a blur, all at once.
How long it lasted, he wasn't sure, but by the time he made it back to the start of the loop where Sorcha manually stopped him with a control panel override at the track's side, he could only drag himself out of the cog like a sailor finding shore after floating on nothing but a board for weeks at sea, his hair and Daxter's fur blasted in windblown spikes straight back from their heads and body.
He wobble-collapsed over a nearby open water pipe and hurled into it.
Sorcha snorted and cackled. "You doofus! You're supposed to move the bars out slowly!"
"Would've been nice… to have known that earlier."
Sorcha patted his back. "Look, I'm sorry for laughing. The first race is in a month, so let's get you back on and try again?"
Jak puked a second time.
The next few weeks were a frenzy of cleaning, cooking, and teaching. On the nights he didn't chaperone (or on nights they returned home early), he dragged his tired, sore self to Mar Stadium and practiced racing under the moonlight, a lone blue blur making circles again and again on the easy track.
He stayed out until mere hours before dawn each time, and almost fell asleep on the racing cog more than once between laps. But Daxter - who was with him every step of the way, fetching him water or food, or keeping his spirits up with jokes - would bat at his face to wake him. It was also a time the both of them could speak freely. At the Willow House, they'd almost been caught talking once, and had had to whisper in their room since. The stadium at night was usually empty, allowing them the freedom to discuss things at normal volumes.
Over these same days, Jak grew more accustomed to Haven itself; the wail of its factory bells every morning, local slang and common understanding of everyday technology, and what alleys to take at what times to avoid pickpockets and gang scuffles.
Jak kept his ears perked and eyes open for more hints at whatever Roru had been doing his first night chaperoning, but every event after passed without incident. Roru slipped away a few times, sure, glaring at him and mouthing the word 'prop' before sneaking off, but she always made it back before anyone else could notice.
Once, she ran into a guard on the way back from a sleuthing run, trying a sweet smile and blush to thwart him. Jak swooped in to mention that Yasu urgently needed her, thanked the guard for finding Roru, and distracted the guard by asking where the bathroom was.
Later on, when Roru met his stare again, he smirked and mouthed back 'you're welcome'.
His shared room with Daxter became more comfortable, as well, filled with things that made them both feel at home. On Jak's side, it was neatly kept and interspersed with plants in makeshift pots, made from seeds he'd found on the streets. Between the plants sat a blanket-covered box. Every night before bed, Jak sat cross-legged before it, burned incense that Tess had borrowed him, left an offering on its surface, and touched his hand to his eco wound all the while. Then he slipped into bed and perused some books Sig had borrowed him, their pages detailing Precursor ruin excavations by explorers of old.
At first, his heart raced every time he flipped a page, as if he were the one turning a corner through an ancient tunnel filled with giant spiders and Metal Heads. But a tightening of his grip around the Project: Legacy symbol Seem had given him always soothed his fear, and gave him the courage to read on. It was not demons or monsters he expected to find in their faded words, but the unraveling of his beliefs about his gods. And it was now more than ever that he needed them, be they as glorious as he'd been raised to believe, or not.
Over time, the explorers' descriptions of technological marvels and musings about Precursor culture surprised him less and less, and in fact strengthened his belief in their power. To his chagrin, though, there had been no mentions of talking dark eco injection machines, or human infants mysteriously found, either.
Daxter's side of the room was a whirlwind of empty cans of jellied eel and fish bones, a pile of strange trinkets he assured Jak weren't stolen, and most curiously, bits and pieces of metal scrap. When Jak asked what his interest in them was, Daxter replied, "I can have hobbies, too, ya know?"
Whatever Daxter was building with them, it looked as if he was making something with useful purpose, but he would never say what it was. For a moment, Jak wondered if Daxter might have gotten along well with Keira, what with all the tinkering he was doing.
Despite their differences - and despite how Daxter snickered every time Jak prayed at his lackluster shrine, and how Jak sighed every time Daxter went on a near-drooling ramble about Tess - all was going well. Between their halves, on the floor by the window, was a large jar, one they both added coins to every night before they collapsed to sleep.
"Good night, bold little shit," Jak would always say.
"Night, selfish prick," Daxter would always reply.
And always, Jak smiled.
"Ya know, after our first day out here, I thought you'd never get back on the track."
Jak and Daxter were in the stadium again beneath the moonlight, backs against a pillar covered with bits of advertisements long torn down. Jak, who was taking a break from practicing to down some water, paused mid-sip of their shared canteen and looked down at Daxter sitting beside him.
"I might have, if so much wasn't on the line."
"Oh, yeah. How is it, by the way?"
Jak shook his head slowly. He didn't need to peek down his own shirt to remember exactly how his dark eco wound had looked that morning, its eldritch form burned in his memory. The past two weeks, it had grown two more offshoots, and now stretched as wide as half his handspan.
"That bad?"
"Not sure. That's the scary part. I don't know how big it should get for me to really start worrying."
"Well, at least the channeling thing hasn't acted up again. Speakin' of, what about blue eco? Any luck usin' that again?"
Jak pulled out the blue eco crystal from his pocket he'd been carrying since Riverjoint. He'd been trying to channel with it in the little spare time he had, but as always, he'd never gotten farther than feeling the hairs on his arm raise. Watching Roru and Yasu during their performances had taught him nothing, either, and he didn't dare ask them to teach him.
"I'm starting to think Basinbreak was just a fluke."
"Hmm, maybe it was. A lucky one, though," Daxter padded towards the racing cog. "C'mon, let's get some more practice in toni…"
"Dax?"
Daxter had stopped mid-pawstep, head turned towards the stadium entrance, ears perking. Footsteps by the gates followed soon after.
That's weird. No one else ever comes here at night.
Jak peeked around the pillar. Daxter retreated and did the same around Jak's leg.
The newcomer wore a stiff military jacket with long sleeves and dual lines of metal buttons down the front, resembling the dress of the Krimzon Guard beneath their armor. But unlike the guard, their jacket was cut short to the hips, tucked into a wide belt. Boots so polished they put the moon's shine to shame gleamed as they strutted forward, each step placed rigidly. An eco rifle jostled from a strap over their back. Jak tried to make out who it was, but a hood shadowed their face.
As they neared, Jak picked up Daxter and shimmied around the back of the pillar, out of sight. The newcomer passed the simple loop practice track and stopped before one of the advanced tracks. They took down their hood. Dark red dreadlocks sleeked into an elaborate bun appeared, framing a heart shaped face with black tattoos, cut ears, and green eyes set with steely focus.
Jak glanced back at the banners by the entrance. The woman was an exact match to one of the champions.
She waited there for a long while, leaning against a racing gear, arms crossed. Then she perked her head up just as Jak did, both hearing a third visitor. One that made both Jak and Daxter furrow their brows when they realized who it was.
"Took you long enough," she said as he neared. "You're late for practice."
Erol smiled at her. "Ah, Miss Ashelin. Did your little butterfly cavalry let you off early to play this evening?"
"I gunned down whole packs of Metal Heads out near the Brinktown border today. Of course, that's nothing compared to the harsh work you do patrolling the city gutters. Please tell me no stray kittens scratched you today, Your Highness?"
"I am your prince and commander, you know."
"You're also a pain in the ass."
Erol stiffened for a second, then laughed. The two drew each other into a one-armed hug, turned, and started mounting a racing gear each, chuckling and talking about how their days went.
Jak and Daxter gawked in silence as the two of them shot off on the track in blurs of red and white.
Finally, Daxter said, "Is the world endin'? 'Cause I think I just witnessed someone tell Prince Frotch the truth and live."
Jak still stared without a word.
"Anyways, I think that's our cue to go. Let's head back."
"Two champions?"
"Uh oh," Daxter crossed his arms. "That better not be a sparkly look in your eye. Look, we gotta leave. Now. Before your friend comes back and another cosmic magic dick measurin' contest ensues and ya rip out his throat. Jak? Jak?"
Jak had trailed over to the entrance, where brass monitors kept watch on the track at all times through glass eyes; another one of Mar's - or the Precursors', Jak presumed - inventions. Ashelin and Erol were neck and neck, the former making up for what she lacked in speed in control. Jak put a hand to his goatee and analyzed every shift of their eco bars as they raced.
Unlike the practice track, the real ones wound through the city, some parts arcing high in the air, others twisting around buildings in dizzying spirals. At times, the tubes wove underneath the plate of Sewerhusk and snaked through its dark maze of machinery and earth, up and out again past Haven's walls, and even once through the eastern ocean, underwater.
These tracks also had hazards. Sometimes the grooves lessened in number, forcing Ashelin and Erol to switch tracks before it was too late, avoiding intentionally placed roadblock barriers. They generated different types of eco, as well. One could choose to stay on a blue eco track and maintain speed, or switch to one of a different color; at one point, Erol flashed over a golden track, tapped a button on the panel in front of his face, and shot yellow eco at Ashelin ahead. She switched tracks to a red one. A force field emerged around her gear, shredding Erol's yellow eco blast into tatters of dying light.
"Jak, they're comin' back! Time to scoot!"
He ignored the pull of a paw at his pants leg, still transfixed as the two neared the end. At the last second, Ashelin switched to a blue track, speeding ahead and crossing the finish line mere milliseconds before Erol. The whole track and tube blared with red light from the stadium to the ocean, letting all across the city know who had won the race.
She seems more defensive, whereas Erol goes on the offense. She plays it safe. But is it better to go slow and steady, or to focus on speed? Or is taking your opponents down more important?
"Another round, now!"
"That's enough for me tonight. But I'd be happy to beat you again this weekend. What do you say?"
"Tomorrow night?"
"I need some sleep once in a while, you know? Not all of us get the easy patrols."
"You can sleep when the championship is over."
Jak flipped around. Erol and Ashelin had dismounted from their racing gears and were nearing. Daxter jumped to his shoulder and Jak ran for the entrance at full speed, heart thrumming with excitement beneath his fear. He'd just seen an actual race between two champions, albeit a practice one. But even though he was only racing for a cure, he found watching it… actually fun?
When was the last time I had any fun, anyways? He shoved the gates open and started down the stairs. Too bad Sorcha wasn't here. She'd have freaked out-
"You! Stop right there!"
"Shit," Jak muttered under his breath. Erol's voice.
"Hands up! And turn around. Slowly."
He complied. Pistol drawn, amber eye glaring behind the sight, Erol strode forward, stopping ten feet away.
"Out into the moonlight where we can see you."
Daxter and Jak exchanged a look.
'Run,' Daxter mouthed, throwing his arms up. 'Cosmic!'
Jak replied by mimicking a gun with his hand, tilting his head towards Erol. Daxter glanced between Jak, Erol, and back again, then cowered behind Jak's head.
"I don't have all day!"
Jak emerged from the shadows with slow steps. Erol looked him over, expression changing from one of suspicion to disgust. His amber eyes especially lingered on Daxter, Jak's clothes, his pistol, and his ears. Ashelin's gaze, however, softened.
"State your business, leaf-ear."
"Hey, want to watch who you say that around?" Ashelin grabbed at Erol's gun arm and tried to pull it back. "And put that thing away."
"You're not like these ones, Ashelin."
"He's probably just here to practice, like us." She turned to Jak. "I'm sorry, please ignore him."
"Then why was he prowling about in the shadows? He wasn't on a track. He was probably planning to rob us. Isn't that right? Speak up!"
Erol's pistol was up again. Before Jak could stop himself, a little flare of flame flickered in his chest where his eco wound was, and he blurted, "Point that gun somewhere else before your ass gets beaten twice tonight."
As soon as the dark eco flush had come, it left. Jak snapped out of its influence and blinked blankly. Precursors, did I really just say that?
"Excuse me? Do you even know who I am!? I will have you put in chains for-"
"Seems like he just wanted to get a preview of how the championship this year will go." Ashelin pushed Erol aside and walked up to Jak. "Once again, don't mind him. He's just sour that someone saw him lose. Are you entering the races this year?"
"I, uh… yeah. But I should go," Jak nervously glanced at Erol, who was glaring at them both. "I really shouldn't be here."
Ashelin gave Erol the longest glare back. "You have every right to be here as we do. Been racing long?"
"I'm new."
She looked over his face. "You know, I think I might have seen you on the practice loop a few times. I could definitely tell you're new. Your dodging is sloppy. But you're already pretty good at handling higher speeds."
"Yeah." Jak scratched the back of his head. "I've been trying to work on that."
Erol grabbed her shoulder. "Let's go, Ashelin. It's starting to reek of hay and yakow manure around here." He looked over Jak once more, wrinkled his nose, then muttered, "Don't ever come back to the track when we're here again."
And with that, he walked away.
Ashelin rolled her eyes. She then met Jak's stare and murmured, "Meet me here tomorrow night."
"What?"
"I'll teach you a few things." Ashelin flipped around, then said over her shoulder, "Don't be late."
Jak stood there numbly as Ashelin caught up to Erol and they both slipped from view down the stairs of the stadium entrance, their words echoing against the stone. Erol's voice chastised, and Ashelin's bitterly defied his as they bickered about what had just transpired.
"Jak, can I tell you somethin'?"
He turned his head to Daxter on his shoulder, but still could hardly take his eyes off of the stairs.
"Don't ever, ever do that again. But stinkin' Precursors, I'm proud of ya! Tellin' him off like he deserved! Even better, ya snagged his babe champion buddy right out from under his nose to teach ya. Maybe we'll have an actual chance at winnin', if she really means it."
"Why would she want to teach me?"
"Dunno. But if her offer gets you any closer to not dyin', we'd be dumb not to take it."
Jak stared at Ashelin's banner again where it swung in the wind over the entrance gates. Those embroidered eyes seemed as if they always were sizing up an enemy. But earlier, Ashelin's real ones had softened as she'd looked at Jak's ears, and her defense against Erol's ire was unexpected, at the very least.
Maybe Tess and Sig aren't the only nice people in Haven?