Nobody panic! I didn't give up on this! I'm actually writing some other scenes that I have planned. I'm having a great time.

Happy reading!

Ionna drove Seem through the desert, sand flying around the Dune Hopper and the wind whipping against their faces. There was a storm brewing, but neither of the women seemed bothered by this. They were silent for a while, until Seem asked, "Where are we going?"

Ionna didn't answer at first, her lips pursed. Finally, she replied, "Some place private. We're almost there."

She drove them to the old ruins of a temple, parking beside a stone wall. It was weathered from the sandstorms, faded and worn, save for one part. The Seal of Mar, carved into the stone entrance, stood as clear as day above them.

Ionna cut the engine, leaving the two of them in a strange, echoing silence. "...I'll cut straight to the point. Surely, you remember Onin's premonition before we left Haven?"

Seem nodded curtly. "A hero of dark and light," she said quietly. "You must have met Jak."

Ionna gave her a hard look. "You knew about his abilities. Why didn't you tell me?"

Seem looked away, not able to make eye contact. Ionna had always been there for her, a guiding light when the darkness threatened to drown her. It was Ionna who had told her, all those years ago in the forest temple, that shadow only existed where there was light. It was Ionna who had protected her, out here in the Wastelands, among monsters and men.

Seem at least owed her the truth.

"His mind and emotions are in chaos," Seem replied. "He cannot be the hero we need, regardless of what Onin thinks."

"That's exactly why you and I are here," Ionna said. "We can help him become a hero." She gestured up towards the sky. "You talk of the daystar that's approaching, bringing destruction to our doorstep. If we don't do something, the world will end. I think that Jak is the best chance we have of survival."

"Yes, he is incredibly powerful," Seem said in her hushed voice. "But his power is raw. Unpolished. Uncontrolled."

"That can be fixed." Ionna drummed her fingers on the wheel of the buggy, thinking. "Powers can be controlled."

"We cannot take that risk." Seem remembered how he had been in the arena. "His powers could destroy us. He is not fit to become the hero needed to protect our world."

"I disagree," Ionna said simply. "He is still young, but temperance can be learned. If I recall correctly, isn't that your duty?"

Seem huffed air out of her nose. "Hmph. I suppose it is. But…I don't know if I can truly help him."

"Seem." Ionna placed her hand on Seem's shoulder. "Please."

Seem hesitated. "There are others who can help us. We need to activate the planet's defense system, correct?"

"That's what the legends say."

"Then we only need someone who can control the Precursor artifacts." Seem looked down at her hands. "I have already spoken with someone. He is prepared to do what is necessary."

Ionna watched her for a moment. "…And you think this man is better than the hero Onin spoke of?" she asked. "You believe he doesn't have ulterior motives?"

Seem blinked. Of course Veger had ulterior motives, she thought. He wanted power and glory. But he was the best man for the job at the moment.

She didn't tell Ionna any of this, however. "Jak is not ready to become a hero," she argued. "I have seen him lose control of himself. He has been tainted by the dark eco. It's corrupted him."

"I don't think it has," Ionna said gently. "I've said it before, Seem: you overestimate the power of dark eco. Corruption begins in the heart."

Seem didn't respond. Instead, she just asked, "Are you intending to train Jak in light eco?"

"I am. Will you help him to control his darkness?"

For a moment, Seem was quiet. "…Very well. Hero or not, I will do as you ask."

"Good." Ionna turned the key and started the buggy again. "I'll let him know. If there is anything you need—"

"I will not require anything," she said bluntly. "Please take me back to the Monk Temple."

Ionna started to drive. "Thank you, Seem," she told her passenger. "I know you disagree, but…I appreciate it all the same."

Seem didn't answer, but her face showed her doubt. Ionna turned away; Seem would eventually find the truth on her own.

Jak had always had good aim. Growing up, he used to spend his afternoons lazily playing catch with the crocadogs of Sandover and using his slingshot to irritate the farmer's yakows. Nowadays, he was a crack shot with his guns, taking out armed guards with the same ease that he had yakows years ago.

Maybe that was why he was so frustrated that Damas was kicking his ass.

The king was winning by at least ten points. He hadn't missed a single shot since they'd started. The boys were both impressed and infuriated by his skills.

Clang! "I believe that puts me at 25 points, warriors," Damas said with a smirk. "Still think you can catch me?"

"No." Jak shot and hit the center of the bedpan with a reverberating echo. "But that doesn't mean I won't try."

"Ha. A warrior's attitude." Damas folded his arms and watched as Daxter took aim. "Truly, you belong in the Wasteland, Jak."

Daxter missed and they watched with avid interest as Damas got another direct hit. Both of them gaped.

"You know," Daxter said, recovering quickly, "I bet you'd be pretty good on the turret. How come you don't have that trophy, huh?"

"Hmph." Damas gave them a wry grin. "The turret is based in firepower. You can shoot mindlessly and still destroy your target. I prefer more precise shots, as well a sniper should."

"Sniper?" Both boys stared at each other, wide-eyed. "You were a…?"

Damas gave them a surprised look. "Yes, I was a sniper during the metal head wars. Is that hard to believe?"

"…I guess not." Jak picked up a tongue depressor and set his aim. "You just seem like you'd be closer to the action."

"Heh. I would rather have been on the battlefield," Damas explained. "However, the general consensus was that, as the leader of Haven City, I was too valuable to be on the front lines."

"Wait…you were the leader of Haven City?" Jak's next shot missed by a mile, distracted by the revelation. "You were the one Praxis overthrew?"

Damas nodded as they both gaped at him. "I came to the throne during the Metal Head Wars. I was betrayed by Praxis and banished to the Wasteland. The rest of the story, you know."

Jak swallowed. "So…you fought in the War with Praxis?"

"Of course," Damas said bitterly. "He was one of my most valued military advisors. Which is why I trusted him so much."

Before either of them could reply, Damas glanced up at the windows. "It's getting late. I suppose I won, though you two put up quite the fight." Jak watched as the older man started to pick up all the tongue depressors. Daxter jumped off the bed, grumbling as he went to help. "I assume you'll be out of here soon?"

"Yeah, Ionna said tomorrow I can go." Daxter tossed Jak the bedpan and he tucked it away. "I can stop at the palace if you have a mission for me."

"Do so." Damas put the tongue depressors away and went for a broom. "I'll finish cleaning up here. You two should get some sleep. " He gave a faint smile. "You're becoming quite the warrior, Jak. I would like to keep you alive and healthy."

"Aw, c'mon!" Daxter groaned. "It's barely dark out!"

Jak opened his mouth to protest, too, but Damas held up a hand to silence him. "I will hear no arguments. Rest is the best way to heal your body."

Both boys glanced at each other. Normally, they would argue, but neither of them were foolish enough to start a fight with the king of Spargus. Especially considering the stern look he was giving the two of them. It was reminiscent of Samos from so long ago.

"Fine, fine," Jak said grumpily. He crossed his arms and fell back into the pillow. "Not like I have anything better to do anyway."

Damas laughed gruffly. "Yes, I saw that Ionna put you to work making first aid kits. Those are quite useful out here. Your work is much appreciated."

"Anytime," Daxter said. "Well, okay, not anytime. But anytime we're really bored."

"Shut up, Dax." Jak grinned as his friend curled up on his chest. He pulled the blanket over himself and laid his head down. The building was quiet, with only the sound of Damas' work, the brushing of the broom on the floor. Jak closed his eyes and let himself fall into a blissful sleep.

The voices came back to his dreams, calling for him, but this time they were different. Harsher, more guttural, deep voices, calling him warrior.

Ionna was exhausted as she came back into the infirmary, her hair windswept from the desert. Jak and Daxter were both asleep, sprawled out on the bed and snoring loudly. She smiled at them and glanced around.

Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing broken, nothing missing. In fact, she mused, it almost seemed like the place was cleaner than she left it. She was fairly certain she hadn't washed those now-clean jars, nor had she folded and stacked the extra bed sheets. She shucked her sand-encrusted boots off and tossed them in the corner.

As she started to unwind her scarf from around her neck, she noticed a piece of paper on the counter. Swiping it off, she quickly scanned over it.

No patients. No issues.

She crumpled the note in one hand. She recognized that handwriting, as well as the brusque tone. When she'd called for a Wastelander to relieve her, the last person she'd expected was Damas himself, wondering down from his palace. He was probably bored. She threw the note into the wastebasket, then shook the sand out of her scarf.

Ionna went to the shelves that held the eco jars. If she was going to properly teach Jak, she was going to need a steadier supply of eco. There was the vent in the center of Spargus, she knew, but they would need someplace away from the city to practice. She frowned.

Maps. She needed to break out the maps Onin had given her. It had been years since she had even seen them; were they in the attic? She sighed heavily.

She'd get them tomorrow. Right now, the only thing she wanted to search for was her bed.

When Jak woke up in the morning, Ionna had set his medicine on the bedside table. He shook Daxter awake and quickly drank it down. When the cup was empty, he started putting his belongings together.

"C'mon, Dax," he grumbled as Daxter dozed off on the pillow. "We can leave today. You can sleep later."

"I wouldn't be in too much of a rush to vanish, child."

Jak glanced back to see Ionna, leaning against the wall, a mug of coffee in her hands.

"I thought you said I could leave once I took the rest of the medicine," Jak said crossly. "I wanna get out of here."

"Yes, but I wanted to speak with you before you go." She gestured to another mug of coffee, hot and ready. "Sit. Let's talk."

Jak eyed her suspiciously, but did as she asked. He pulled up a stool and took a drink of the coffee. It was strong and bitter, much like the teas that Samos used to drink. "What do you want to talk about?"

Ionna sat down next to him and drank her own coffee. "I said before," she began, "that you are a very talented eco channeler, particularly with light eco. I'd like to offer you…an opportunity."

"An opportunity?"

"To learn," she explained. "I can teach you how to control your light eco powers and use them to your full potential."

Jak blinked. "…Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Why are you offering?"

Ionna raised an eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest?" She gestured up. "Because danger is coming, and I think you're the key to staving it off."

Jak had to admit: he appreciated the honesty. "Yeah, I've been told." The echoes of hero and savior sounded in his head. His mood darkened. "But I'm nobody's weapon."

Daxter leapt onto Jak's shoulder, breaking the tension on his friend's face. "Everyone thinks Jak's a big hero," he teased. "But we all know he wouldn't last a minute without me. I'm the real power behind this duo."

"Even so," Ionna said with a smile. "I've also spoken with Seem. She has kindly offered to provide instruction on controlling dark eco."

"Seem?" As Daxter scrambled up to the counter, his fur disheveled from sleep, he yawned. "What does Face Paint know about dark eco? Besides that it's eeevvviiilll!" He made a mocking face.

Ionna looked surprised. "I thought you knew. Seem is the acolyte of dark eco. She's studied it almost all her life."

"Really?" Jak thought back to all the warnings Seem had given him, the grief for using his darkness, the way she sneered at his powers. He had a hard time imagining her even handling dark eco, let alone channeling it and transforming like he could. "She certainly doesn't act like it."

"Oh, trust me," Ionna said softly. "Seem may not like it, but she's an expert in dark eco." When both Jak and Daxter gave her a confused and curious look, she sighed. "Eco sages are chosen at a young age. The monks used to search through the city, looking for children who showed talent with a particular eco. They would take them and raise them in the monk temple, above the forest. There, they would learn the ways of the monks, the precursors, and the eco they were adept in."

"And Seem didn't like that she was good with dark eco." Jak folded his arms. "I can understand that."

Because he had been through it. Because despite how useful Dark Jak is—the invisibility, the supernatural strength, the sheer durability of his own body—he hated it. Hated the loss of control, the rage, the bloodlust. If he had to choose between dark powers and no powers, well…powerlessness sounded pretty good.

"There is a stigma, even among the monks," Ionna continued. "Many devout monks believe that dark eco is the soul of everything humanity fears and loathes. There are even those who feel that a dark eco sage is a villain sent to destroy us from the inside out."

"And what do you think?" Daxter asked.

Ionna paused, thoughtful. "Hmm…I think monks tend to put a lot of stock in eco and precursors and forget that the most evil men on this planet are just as human as the rest of us."

They sat in silence for a moment, digesting what she had said. Finally, Ionna stood up from her chair and gestured for Jak to follow. "Regardless, Seem can help you. Come."

She led them to the back of the room, then reached up and pulled a ladder down from the ceiling. She took them up into the attic, her footsteps making the wooden floor creak.

It was a dusty, dry room that was filled with old wooden crates. Ionna hauled one over for Jak to sit on, then started opening another one. As she dug through it, she began to explain.

"Most sages can only control their specific type of eco. However, light and dark eco work differently."

Jak watched as she pulled out several thick, worn books. "How?"

Ionna blew dust off of a grey-covered book. "Light eco is the culmination of all four types of eco. As such, in order to fully control it, you have to be able to control the other types: blue, red, yellow, and green."

"What about dark eco, then?" Daxter asked. "Ooh! You gotta be able to control none of 'em!"

Both Jak and Ionna ignored him. "Dark eco requires a certain…mental fortitude in order to use it." Ionna opened the book and flipped through. "Aha. There aren't many accounts of dark eco sages, simply because they are few and far between. However, the last fully trained dark eco sage on record was driven insane by it." She handed the book to Jak, who skimmed the words on it. The story sounded vaguely familiar—mysterious disappearances, collections of dark eco pooled together, Precursor machinery used to flood the world with dark eco—

Oh.

He flipped the page and saw a crude mural, similar to those in the monk temple and Mar's tomb. This one showed two figures, shrouded in darkness, hovering above two figures of light.

"The story goes, when the dark eco sage tried to remake the world in darkness, the light eco sage stopped him. However, after that, there has never been another fully recognized sage—in light nor dark eco."

"Is this…accurate?" Jak asked hesitantly. He caught Daxter's eye, who shrugged. "I mean…it sounds kind of…fairy-tale-ish."

"Well, history is written by those who remain." She took the book back from him. "And it's a very, very old story. I, personally, think it was…exaggerated a bit. But the lesson remains the same."

She set the book aside. "Controlling, or even channeling, dark eco is incredibly dangerous. Exposure to dark eco can turn a person mad. That's why the monks are very, very wary of anyone with an affinity for dark eco. It has a very powerful influence."

Jak flexed his hands, imagining the claws that came out sometimes when he was angry. "Yeah. I know."

"Seem hasn't spent her time on practicing different techniques or channeling eco," Ionna continued. "She spends a large chunk of her time meditating, practicing the art of self-restraint and understanding how the eco affects her mind."

"And that helps her with dark eco?" Daxter leaned forward on Jak's shoulder. "Sounds to me like somebody's afraid of the dark stuff, eh, Jak?"

Ionna pondered this. Finally, she said, "Sometimes, the thing we hate most is what we hate about ourselves. Seem has long since disliked her natural talent for dark eco. Perhaps you're right and it does scare her." She exhaled softly. "Of course, I don't often see Seem in a murderous bloodlust, so it sounds like she's doing something right."

Jak cracked a grim smile. "So, you think Seem can help me control my dark powers?"

Ionna shrugged. "That's the idea." She handed him another book. "And I can help you control your light."

He opened the book to a random page and saw sketches of a plain figure, with no face, going through various poses. Some looked familiar, almost like battle stances.

"That's the book of red eco," Ionna explained. "It was used by the monks to train the red eco sage and their acolytes."

Now he saw why it looked familiar: those were battle stances. "Are there other books like this?"

She nodded. "For blue, yellow, and green. Those four books are the basis for the light eco techniques I've learned."

"…I have pretty good control over the light part," Jak told her. "It's the dark that I struggle with."

"Don't we all," she murmured. She sighed and continued, "As I said, it's not necessarily to gain control. You have a fairly good handle on the power light eco gives you, but there are no doubt a thousand doors you've left unopened. I can help you unlock them."

She folded her hands and smiled placidly at him. "You can, of course, say no. I won't take it personally."

Jak glanced at Daxter, who shrugged back. "What do you think, Dax?" he asked. "Worth it?"

"I dunno. Can't hurt, can it?"

Jak had to agree. Maybe he'd get something good out of all this. "Alright," he told Ionna. "Let's do it."

Ionna gave him directions to meet her the next day at dawn, at the entrance to Spargus, then told him he could leave. She warned him that if he felt any sort of nausea or dizziness, he should return to the infirmary.

"And you," she barked at Daxter, "make sure he doesn't overexert himself. You have my permission to twist his ear if he isn't resting enough."

Jak rolled his eyes, but Daxter gave her a salute. "You got it, Nurse!"

She sent them on their way, waving them out the door, into the desert morning. Jak shaded his eyes from the bright sun and started towards the palace.

"So," Daxter said conversationally. "Do you really believe in all this precursor crap about you being a hero?"

Jak's boots pushed into the coarse sand as he went through Spargus. Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably, he said, "I don't really know, Dax. I've…been having these dreams…but dreams are just dreams. What do you think?"

Daxter shrugged. "Well…you are pretty heroic. You saved the world from the Gol and Maia, then you saved Haven City. If I was a betting man, I'd put my money on you."

"I guess." They had reached the palace. Jak stepped onto the familiar elevator and it rumbled to life, taking him up. "But what if I don't want to be a hero?"

"Well," Daxter said slowly, "like she said, you have a choice. But…and hear me out on this…maybe you are a hero, Jak. Maybe that's just who you are."

As they came into view of the throne room, Jak sighed and closed his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to find out."