I hope everyone is having a completely ordinary, not-at-all stressful week. Yep, nothing of importance happened this week, no-siree, this is just fine.
hahahaHahAHahaHAHAHAHAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.
Anyway, I'm still playing Age of Calamity, and it is just great. I am having exactly two thoughts:

1. My precious egg boy!
2. King Rhoam should've stayed dead.

That is all.
Happy reading!

Spargus wasn't a big city, but it certainly made an impression.

"Does...everyone here carry guns?" Keira whispered to Jak.

Walking beside her, he nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's better than just the KG carrying them, right?"

She couldn't argue with that. Still, it made her a bit uneasy to be around so many well-armed strangers. Especially since they didn't look like they would hesitate to use them.

Jak took her through the city, giving her the rundown of how it all worked. There was the market place, where you could trade anything you had for anything you wanted. The arena, he explained, was where Wastelanders trained and fought for battle amulets. It was a proving ground for the city.

"It's sort of...barbaric, isn't it?" she mentioned. "I mean, here I thought the Baron was cruel."

Jak practically snapped his neck turning to look at her. "Damas isn't cruel," he insisted, and he sounded sincere when he said it. "He's just...look, it's rough out here. He just wants to make sure that Spargus can take care of itself."

Keira frowned. "Yeah, but there have to be better ways to do it, right?"

"Eh, I'm with Keira on this one." Daxter was lounging on Jak's shoulder, his bout as tour guide over. "The Sand King's not a bad guy, but the arena is a little, uh, how shall we say... absolutely insane?!"

"I didn't say I liked it," Jak said quickly. "Just that I understand it."

"Good for you." Keira rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. "I guess he didn't seem so bad when I met him earlier. Maybe he's an acquired taste."

Jak nodded, but didn't say anything. Daxter, however, suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, let's show her the leaper lizards!"

"The what?" Keira didn't have time to argue before Jak agreed and roughly shoved her towards a wall. "Hey!"

Leaper lizards, it turned out, were Spragus' preferred method of transportation in the city. Keira was absolutely delighted by them, and vice versa.

"This guys must be related to the flut fluts from back in Sandover!" She rubbed the lizard's head affectionately. It made a happy noise and rubbed against her hand. "They probably evolved because of the climate change. Scales are better in the desert than feathers, I guess."

"Oh, sure, you like these animals." Daxter kept his eyes on the lizard, still not over his last adventure with them. "But ask you to scratch behind my ears and all you do is complain."

Keira ignored him, though Jak stifled a chuckle. She clambered onto the lizard's back and shifted, getting comfortable in the saddle. "Aww, who's a good boy?" The lizard leapt happily at her encouragement. "Come on, guys, let's race!"

"Race?" Jak folded his arms. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"What's the matter?" she taunted. "Scared?"

"Ahh, leave 'er in the dust, Jak!" Daxter cheered. "Lookit, there's another one over there! Go get 'im and show her what for!"

"Unless you think I'll win." Keira snapped the reins on her lizard and watched it jolt forward, eager. "Don't worry, Jak, I understand. Lots of men are intimidated by me."

"...Intimidated…?" Jak's face twisted into a smirk. "Oh, please. You're on."

With that, he ran for the other leaper lizard, looking more like the Jak she remembered from Sandover than he had since they'd arrived in the future.

Maybe this place wasn't so bad, she thought. Different than she was used to, sure. Jak came skidding to a stop by the lizard and jumped onto its back with vigor. Daxter whooped and shouted something about kicking her ass.

But, as she had learned recently, different didn't always mean bad.

Spargus was in great danger.

Damas squinted at the map he had tacked to the wall. There were markings on it, pins and dots where Dark Makers had been sighted. Paths that showed where they'd fallen from, what direction they'd been heading.

They were getting closer.

What had started as scouts, surveying the entire area, had now become clusters of scouts in two areas: Spargus and the Monk Temple.

He clenched his fist. Behind him, he heard the elevator grind to life, but paid it no mind. He ran his finger over the area. Why, he wondered, were they not attacking directly? He couldn't complain, as his city was safe another day. But it almost seemed like they were circling around the city and temple, getting closer and closer, but never touching either of the areas.

Why?

Heavy footsteps splashed closer to him. "Your favorite new warrior is racing leaper lizards through the city," Sig informed him. "I guess that's what happens when he finds a friend who's taller than two feet."

Damas snorted. "You have no one to blame but yourself."

"Guess not. I owe you an apology, by the way," Sig added. "I should've asked before I brought Keira here."

Damas shook his head. "There is no need. As I said, any help available, we would be foolish not to accept."

They went quiet again, as Sig eyed the map. "...What are you thinking, Damas?" he finally asked.

"I am thinking of nothing. These patterns, the way the Dark Makers are attacking...it makes very little sense to me."

Sig tilted his head to the side. "Maybe they're testing our defenses," he suggested. "Gettin' ready for a bigger attack."

Damas frowned even deeper and folded his arms. "Then why haven't they sent scouts directly into the city?" he questioned. "Why haven't they attacked the temple? Testing our defenses would require them to make an attack."

Sig shrugged. "I won't lie to you, Damas. I'm not exactly a tactical genius."

"Heh. Nor am I, to be honest." He pressed his fist to his mouth, still thinking. "When Marauders or metal heads attack, I am usually able to predict their next moves. However, these Dark Makers...they operate differently."

"So what are you gonna do?" Sig asked. "Sit here in the throne room and try to figure it out?"

For a moment, Damas wondered if he just was going to do that. He was a smart man, after all; surely he could decipher the reasonings of his enemies. Predict their movements, defend against their plans.

But he banished the thought as soon as it came to him. No, that sort of hubris is what led to the downfall of many a ruler, himself included. If Damas had learned anything from being unceremoniously dethroned, it was when to seek out help.

"...I will do what must be done." Abruptly, he pulled the map off the wall and began to roll it up. "Sig, check in with Malik and Jess. Make sure we are prepared in case these creatures do attack. Anything they need to improve our offense and defense, get it for them."

Sig nodded and gave him a salute. As Damas headed for the elevator, Sig hesitated and asked, "Where are you going?"

Damas gave him a grim smile as the elevator started to head down. "To seek out my old advisor."

Praxis wasn't happy about it, but then again, when was Praxis ever happy?

"For the last time," Damas said, irritation clear in his voice, "I invited Ionna here as an advisor. My father valued the Precursor Monks' input; so do I."

"Monks are, by their nature, peaceable." Praxis loomed over the young king as they headed for the meeting room. "As valuable as their input is for running the city, they are not helpful when it comes to war meetings!"

Not as peaceable as you'd think, Damas thought, absent-mindedly rubbing his jaw. It still ached a bit from his sparring match with Ionna. Of course, he'd dislocated her shoulder, so maybe they were even. Out loud, he said, "Praxis. Enough. She is invited as a tactical advisor. If you truly have a problem with her being there, you're welcome to skip this meeting."

Praxis said nothing, but his face twisted unpleasantly. Damas largely ignored him as they opened the doors to the meeting room.

It was a large, very open room with a huge table in the center. Maps littered the table, along with tins full of pins and half-used pens. Damas felt his heart twist as he recognized his father's hasty scrawl on a few of the maps.

Everyone was already in place in the room: Ionna was huddled around the table with the three other members of the Krimzon Guard. Damas nodded as he and Praxis joined them.

"Alright, let's not waste any time." Damas felt his crown slide down over his brow and frowned. As he set it properly in its place, he continued, "General Praxis, you have an update for us?"

Praxis nodded stiffly. "Yes, Your Highness." He spread out a map onto the table and placed several pins in it. "These are the outposts we currently have on the edge of the Wasteland. Metal head armies have been attacking, but so far, we've been able to defend the outposts." He sighed and folded his arms. "However, it comes at the cost of heavy casualties. We won't be able to defend for much longer if the metal heads continue this assault."

Yasir leaned over the map, eyes narrowed. "These outposts are very important," he said. He was always a man of slow, calm demeanor. "They protect the eastern eco mine. If the metal heads are able to overtake the mine, we lose quite a bit of power to the city."

Damas examined the map carefully. "It looks like they've built a small nest a few miles north," he commented. "They must have some source of eco nearby. Maybe one of the underground pipes is leaking?"

"It could be as simple as a pool of dark eco," Ali added. "If we can find a way to dry up their supply of eco, that would force them back!"

"But there are no known eco pipes in that area," Antwon reminded them in his lilting voice. "Even if they were leaking, a simple leak would not provide enough to let the metal heads build a nest."

Ionna's voice, calm and clear, cut over them. "...The source is the mine itself."

Praxis made a noise in his throat, but she ignored him and leaned over the map. Her thin finger ran along a blue line. "Do you see? There's a stream that flows past the mines. And it flows…" She tapped the map. "Right here, next to where they built the nest."

Indeed, Damas could see it. A small stream that pooled into a pond, directly next to where the metal heads had built their nest. Ionna continued, "The runoff from the mine must be collecting in the pond here. Unprocessed ore, excess raw eco...unusable to us, but perfectly fine for metal heads."

"Aha!" Yasir nodded approvingly at her. "Very clever thinking, young sage. Your Highness, we should send word to shut down the mine processes temporarily."

"Foolishness," Praxis dismissed. "We don't even know if that's where the metal heads are getting the eco!"

"I agree with the General," Ali quickly added. "No disrespect to anyone at this table, but if we shut down the mine, we would be forced to ration eco to the city. Some sectors might have power outages, even blackouts. People would be absolutely furious."

Antwon frowned and gestured to the map. "But if we lose the mines for good to the metal heads, we will be in a much worse position. Inconvenience is one thing, but a permanent blow to our eco supply? Lives would be lost."

All eyes turned to Damas, awaiting his decision. He pursed his lips and looked around at them. "I suppose it's up to me, isn't it?" He exhaled softly and examined the map.

"Your Highness, I strongly object to this plan." Praxis gestured wildly to Ionna. "To make a decision on the speculation of a mere monk? Laughable."

"You don't like me very much, do you, General Praxis?"

The room went silent and still at Ionna's words. She was staring directly at Praxis, eyes ice cold. He huffed air out of his nose, furious with indignation.

"It has nothing to do with that," he snapped. "Your idea is—"

"My idea," Ionna interrupted, "is the only one I've heard so far. But if you have a better one, let us hear it. The floor is yours."

They were silent for another moment, Praxis' face getting steadily more and more stony, before Damas said, "Enough. We already have a war to fight, let's not snipe at each other."

He sighed heavily. "...Tell the mine to cease operations for the next week."

"Your Highness!" Praxis was outraged, but Damas shook his head.

"Ionna's right, no one has any better plan for what to do, and her idea makes sense. Would you rather lose more soldiers to the metal heads?"

Praxis' shoulders slumped, defeated. "I...disagree with your choice, but I will respect it."

"What shall we tell the citizens?" Ali asked. "To stop the mining process for a week...we'll have to do something."

Damas folded his arms and tilted his head back, thinking. "...Send out a broadcast," he said finally. "We'll get some ration stamps for people to use for individual businesses and residences."

"People will be angry," Ali cautioned.

"Then they're welcome to come yell at me in person," Damas replied with a grim smile. "I'll light some candles in the throne room, just to show I'm doing my part."

Yasir gave a chuckle. "Very well, Your Highness. I will send out the broadcast."

"I will send out the ration stamps," Antwon added. "This is not the first time we've had to ration eco, it won't be the last."

"Excellent, thank you. You are dismissed." Damas nodded as they began to leave. "Except for Praxis and Ionna. Stay back for a moment, you two."

Antwon managed to stifle a snicker as he and the other two men left. Praxis and Ionna both turned to Damas, who folded his arms and glared at them. He wasn't exactly familiar with stern lectures, but he supposed he'd have to get familiar with them.

"I'm not dealing with this every time we have a war meeting." He raised an eyebrow at the general. "Praxis, Ionna is one of my advisors, and I value her input just as much as yours. Be respectful to her."

Praxis didn't act chagrined, but he nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."

"And you need to be less blunt," Damas told Ionna. "These meetings aren't for you to bring up personal feelings. We have work to do."

"My apologies, Your Highness." Ionna bowed to him. "It will not happen again."

"Thank you. You're both dismissed." As Ionna and Praxis both left, the door closing behind them, Damas exhaled and let his shoulders slump.

This being king stuff...it wasn't for the faint of heart.

The infirmary was a much quieter and calmer place now that no one was going out into the Wasteland for missions. Ionna hadn't had to treat sunburn in several days, and with only a few broken bones, she was almost bored with the peace.

Luckily for her, Spargus children always seemed to get into trouble with or without adult supervision. Such as Lene, who had apparently seen some adults racing leaper lizards and wanted to join them. Unfortunately, since she was only six, she'd fallen off and cut herself on one of their sharp claws. The gash wasn't long, but it was wide and still oozing blood; the girl needed at least ten stitches.

As she carefully threaded the needle, Ionna was reminded of the first time she ever gave Mar stitches. A short line, right below his chin, from when he'd tried to climb the rocks after his father. Damas hovering over her shoulder, while Mar himself practically vibrated with energy. Sig had to hold the boy's shoulders to keep him still.

"Miss Ionna? Your hands are shaky." Lene tilted her head. "Are you okay?"

"...Just fine, child." Ionna flexed her fingers to steady them. Behind her, the bell to the door jingled. Whoever it was, she thought, they could wait. If it was an emergency, they'd make it known. "Stay still for a moment, Lene."

She began to stitch, moving quickly and carefully, making the sutures even across the wound. "There we go." With the wound sewn together, Ionna cut the suture thread and smiled. "How's it feeling?"

Lene made a fish-face and moved her arm. "Weird," she giggled. "Will I always have the thread stuff?"

Ionna rested her hand on the girl's head. "No, you'll come back in a few weeks and we'll take it out. Here, let me bandage it, too."

A hand appeared from behind her, a roll of bandages in its calloused fingers. Lene looked up and her smile broadened. "Hi, Lord Damas!"

"Hello, little one."

Ionna took the bandages from him and began wrapping Lene's arm. "And...we're...done!" She helped the girl off the bed and smiled down at her. "Now, no more playing around with leaper lizards, alright?"

"But the big kids do it," she whined. "I'm just tryna be like them!"

Damas stooped down to her eye level. "You know, you're going to have quite a warrior's scar there," he told her. "Once you've gotten the bandages off, you and I will go brag about your scar to all the warriors I know."

"R-really?" Lene gave him a toothy smile. "Okay, Lord Damas!"

"Very good. Now, head home and rest."

The pair of them watched as Lene left, bouncing happily through the door. Once she was gone, Damas turned hesitantly to Ionna. They stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, awkwardly avoiding each other's gaze. There was a part of her that wanted to pull out a stool and make him a cup of coffee, invite him in and chat, like they were old friends.

But their shared past was just that: past. There was little point in pretending they were anything but reluctant comrades, doing their best to work together for the sake of a better world.

Finally, Damas broke the silence. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."

"It crossed my mind." Ionna began to clean up after herself, throwing bloody rags into the waste bin and setting the tools aside. As she began to wash her hands, she added, "You don't look ill."

"I am in need of your advice." Damas unrolled the paper he'd been holding, revealing a map. "I have been looking over the Dark Maker sightings."

He spread the map out on the counter. Ionna glanced down at it. Dots and pathways, lines and scribbles. Typical of Damas to have the most unorganized tactical map she'd ever seen. "I am trying to prepare for their next move," he continued. "But I can't understand what their next move is."

"Walk me through it," Ionna ordered. "What's happening?"

Damas gestured to the clusters of dots marking Dark Makers. "They're landing all around the Monk Temple and Spargus. But there have been no reports of direct attacks."

"They're scouting for something," Ionna said. "The Eco Sphere, would be my guess."

"That was my original thought." Damas tapped his finger on the Monk Temple. "But then, why haven't they attacked yet? If they're trying to find the artifact, they're being incredibly foolish about it. While they're scouting, we could be finding it."

"...They could be testing our defenses." Ionna frowned. "But that's a very poor way to do so."

Damas smiled knowingly. "Exactly my thoughts. Whatever they're doing, it's almost as if they're...observing us, rather than attacking."

Ionna put her hands on her hips. "...If they thought Spargus was a threat, they would've attacked the city by now. If they were looking for the artifact, they would've attacked the temple by now." Her eyes widened. "Damas. Have there been any reports of Dark Makers in Haven City?"

"A few, but nothing substantial. According to Sig, it's just the occasional satellite on the outskirts of the city." Damas frowned. "But why does that matter?"

"Consider it for a moment. Haven City is currently just this side of fallen. If the Dark Makers wanted to destroy a city, it would be easy for them to take out Haven now, while it's already losing a war."

"But they're focused on us instead." Damas nodded in understanding. "Why?"

They both stared at the map for a moment, before Ionna suddenly laughed in her throat. "Of course. Whoever's leading these Dark Makers, they're very clever."

"...Do you have an idea?" Damas questioned. "Or are you simply stating the obvious?"

"Both." Ionna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Right now, the key element, the single greatest asset to either side, is the Eco Sphere. That artifact holds the key to stopping the Dark Makers."

"Yes. If we acquire it first, we will be able to stop them." Damas shot her an annoyed look. "But if they find it first, we will be helpless against them." But Ionna was shaking her head. "What?"

"Not who finds it first." She folded her arms and turned to him. "Do you remember that game the Nomad children used to play? The one with the crown."

"Keeper of the Crown. I remember." Damas furrowed his brow in confusion. "It was just tag, if I recall correctly. They used to chase each other around and steal a stone from each other."

Ionna gestured for him to continue. "Right. There was a time limit, remember? And the winner was…?"

Damas gave her a curious look. "I believe whoever had the stone last won."

There was a very pregnant pause as the revelation fell over Damas. "...Whoever had it last," he repeated softly. "They don't want to find that artifact."

"They're waiting for us to find it," Ionna confirmed.

"And then they'll take it." Damas put his hands flat on the counter, exhaling angrily. "Of course. It makes sense: why would they race for something when they can just crush the winner and take the trophy?"

Ionna sighed. "Which puts us in quite a predicament."

"We'll have to find it quickly." Damas clasped his hands behind his back, straightening. "And whoever finds it will have to expect an attack immediately after."

"Jak is planning on being the one to take the Eco Sphere."

"Absolutely not." The words were out of Damas' mouth before he could even process them. Ionna raised an eyebrow, surprised at his outburst. "Jak is...very young," Damas said quickly, looking away self-consciously. "It would make more sense to send a more experienced warrior! Someone like Sig or...myself."

Ionna stared at him with an odd look on her face. He cleared his throat and turned away, rolling up the map. "Thank you for your advice," he told her. "I sincerely appreciate your wisdom and guidance in these dark times. We may be able to—"

"It's because he looks like Mar, isn't it?"

He spun around, almost losing his grip on the map. As he quickly grabbed it before it fell, Ionna continued, "I'm not blind, you know, nor am I foolish."

"...I will let you know of any plans I make," Damas said haltingly. "If there are more attacks, or any indications of where the artifact is…"

"Please do." She began to strip the bedding off the cot she'd used to stitch Lene's wound. "I will continue training Jak. Regardless of what the future holds, he will need to learn as much as he can for the battles ahead."

Damas watched her for another moment, as she gathered the sheets in her arms. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but she turned away, intent on putting the sheets in the laundry basket. By the time she turned around, Damas was gone, the sound of the bell ringing in her ears.