We're making progress, baby! No idea how many chapters are left, but the good parts are coming. Happy reading!
"…alive!"
Jak could hear the world come back into focus, the hum of eco fading away. He didn't quite have the strength to open his eyes, though. He could feel hands, rough and calloused, but surprisingly gentle. The fingers felt for a pulse, pressed against his chest, checked for injuries.
Like a bad radio, the sounds of Spargus floated into his ears.
"Lemme see 'im, lemme see 'im!"
"Daxter, he's fine, he's alive, don't—!"
Jak felt something land on his stomach, along with a loud screech. "You jerk! You leave me to go shoot the baddies and then end up—Hey, hey, put me down!"
"Kleiver, hold him, and don't hurt him."
"No promises, your Lordliness."
Jak opened his eyes with a groan. Above him, he could see Damas' face, stricken in a way that seemed oddly familiar. He gave Jak an encouraging smile, but it was tinged with...something else. "Ugh...the Dark Makers...are they…?"
"Gone? Yes." Damas was kneeling in the sand, cradling Jak's head in his lap. The world was out of focus, but as it slowly started to sharpen, Jak could see a crowd of Wastelanders around him. "How do you feel?"
"...Floaty," Jak replied. Damas narrowed his eyes in confusion, but Jak couldn't muster up the words to describe it better. He felt detached, like someone had separated him from his own body, like he was tethered to the ground by a thread. But "floaty" seemed to be the best he could manage.
He could still hear Daxter sputtering at Kleiver, and more Wastelanders had gathered around to watch him. He tried to sit up, but Damas set his hand firmly on the boy's shoulders and anchored him down.
"Don't move. I don't want you to strain anything." Damas brushed some of Jak's hair back from his face. "You gave us quite a fright, the way you dropped. We thought you were dead."
"...Dead?" That explained Daxter's shouting, he supposed. "Nah...not me."
"Invincible, I presume," Damas said dryly. "Are you having trouble breathing?"
"No," Jak assured him. "Worn out. Weird. Wanna sleep."
Damas glanced up around them. "Sig, can you clear the area a bit? We need room to move."
"You got it." Sig's voice rose over the crowd. "Hey, back up, folks! This ain't a dinner show, give 'em some space."
The crowd shifted around Jak, legs and boots shuffling back. Damas helped him sit up, then stand on shaking legs. The world pitched around him and he felt like he was going to be sick.
"Careful," Damas murmured as he swayed uneasily. "Lean against me, son."
The king didn't wait for Jak to obey. Instead, he pulled Jak's arm over his broad shoulders. Jak expected Damas to support him and help him walk, but to his surprise, the older man hooked his arm around the back of Jak's knees and lifted him like a child.
"Daxter, on my shoulder." Damas' voice was firm. "Careful of the spikes."
"You don't have to carry me," Jak mumbled, though he made no effort to stop him. He didn't really feel like trying to resist Damas right now. Still, his pride wouldn't let him get away with just letting it happen. "I can walk just fine."
"Clear a path!" Sig called out. The Wastelanders obeyed, though they still stared as Damas carried him through. There were murmurs and whispers around him, such a familiar sound. He felt like he was back in Haven again.
Jak closed his eyes and pressed his ear to Damas' chest. It was…comforting, that the only sound he could make out was Damas' steady heartbeat. He let himself drift off for a few moments, until he heard a familiar bell ring overhead.
"We need a bed," Damas commanded. "And get Seem over here, I need her to check him. He overexerted himself with the light eco."
Jak was settled into a bed, the cool sheets pleasant against his blazing hot skin. He groaned and blinked his eyes open, only to be greeted by Daxter two inches from his face.
"You. Jerk." Daxter leaned closer, practically making Jak cross-eyed. "You decide to leave me stuck on a gun, while you go play the hero?! I'm insulted. In fact, I'm offended. No, I'm…I'm…" Daxter frowned, considering his words. "I'm pissed off, that's what I am!"
Before either of them could say anything else, Seem appeared. Wordlessly, she scooped Daxter up and dropped him unceremoniously onto the bedside table. Jak stilled as she reached for him.
"I'm not as good with light eco as Ionna," she murmured, "but I'll do what I can until she gets here. Swallow, please."
Jak did as she was told, feeling her fingers press against his throat. She nodded. "Clench your fists."
She directed him through a series of tests, some of which he passed, some of which he didn't. His head was pounding, and couldn't seem to focus on anything. All he really wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever. At some point, when she asked him to follow her finger, it took him ten seconds to realize he was staring intently at the torch on the wall instead.
Finally, Seem stepped back and said, "You're lucky. Others have died from trying to channel half as much eco as you just did."
He vaguely heard Daxter say something, but couldn't quite make out what it was. Before he could ask his friend to repeat it, Damas appeared. He was holding a ceramic cup, steam rising off the top.
"Drink, Jak." He held the cup out to Jak's lips and tilted it to let him drink. The tea was hot, and tasted of mint and lemon, so familiar. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. "It'll help you sleep."
"Lemon balm," Jak mumbled drowsily. He thought he heard Damas laugh as he turned into the pillow and let sleep take him under.
Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, Jak dreamed of the beach.
It was so strange: the sand in his dreams seemed to shift, going between rough grains to soft silt and back again. The water was sometimes brackish and salty, and sometimes it was clear and cool.
Usually, in the dreams, Jak was lying on his back on the shore. He could feel the waves splash over his bare feet. He always had his eyes closed, in that strange dream-way where you had your eyes closed but still could see. There would be voices around him. Some he recognized. Some he didn't.
"Lookit, lookit! A fish!" Loud, brash, shrill. Daxter was sitting next to him on the beach. His friend's voice seemed to float all around him. "Ain't this the life, Jak? Nothin' like the city."
Jak made a noise in his throat, but couldn't talk. He never could in these dreams.
"Shh…be quiet, little one. Very quiet."
This one was familiar-but-not-familiar. He wanted to open his mouth and say something—he wasn't sure what—but he got the feeling something bad would happen if he disobeyed. The ghost of a hand brushed over his hair a few times. He basked in the comfort, before the hand suddenly gripped his hair tightly and yanked his head up.
"Hmph, the little mute freak. Well, at least your screams are entertaining."
He jerked away, feeling the hand loosen and let go. He wanted to shrink back, to hide from the voice, cold and cruel and slightly robotic. He shivered and felt his heart beat faster, a crackling pain running across his skin.
"C'mon, chili pepper, don't let 'em get you down."
Something was laid on top of him and tucked beneath his arms: a blanket, he thought. It seemed to sooth his fears, washing away the anxiety.
"Hey, I said I'd get ya out, didn't I? You think I'd let you go back there?"
Daxter was here. It couldn't be that bad if Daxter was still here. Jak could feel the phantom weight on his shoulder. Another voice joined, high and lyrical, and a hand patted his knee.
"It's alright, child, there's nothing to be afraid of. It was just a dream."
Just a dream. They were all here with him, he wasn't alone. He was okay.
It was just a dream.
Daxter didn't like this eco crap at all.
Jak groaned through his sleep, tossing and turning in the bed. Daxter hovered anxiously on the bedside table. "He, uh, he's gonna be alright, right, Seem?"
Seem jerked in surprise, though she didn't mention that Daxter hadn't used a nickname. "...I don't know," she admitted. "I've nursed Ionna through light eco overexposure before, but…"
"But?" Daxter hopped from one foot to another. "But what?"
"This is worse," she said simply. "And Ionna is different. I have no idea what Jak's limits are."
That wasn't what Daxter wanted to hear. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure how to react, feeling useless. The door opened again and Damas came in.
"I radio'd Ionna," he announced. "She has the Eco Sphere, the Temple is clear of Dark Makers, and she's on her way back to the city."
"And then she'll be able to help Jak, right?"
Damas glanced down at Daxter. For a moment, Daxter saw his own fear reflected on the older man's face, but it quickly disappeared. "Ionna will know more about how best to help him. Until then, there's work to be done."
He straightened his shoulders and turned to Seem. "What are things looking like?"
"The acolytes have set up medical tents for minor injuries," Seem explained. "The more major injuries are being treated here. Luckily for us, it's mostly dark eco burns."
"What do you need right now?"
Seem's eyes slid across the infirmary. There were a dozen or so Wastelanders around, with a few monks rushing around to attend to them. "...Runners. We're wasting time, going back and forth across the infirmary to grab supplies."
"Consider it done." Damas moved quickly, with the experience of someone who'd done this before. "Daxter, you should come with me. I could use someone who moves fast."
"Uh, no problem." Daxter took one last look at Jak, languishing in the bed, before he hopped to the floor. "What should I do?"
"If someone needs something, they'll tell you. You know where Ionna stores things, correct?" Daxter nodded. "That's all. It may not be the most interesting work, but it's important."
So they went to work. Daxter kind of appreciated having something else to focus on; he might go crazy if he had to stare at his best buddy in that bed anymore. Plus, the work was an easy, mind-numbing type that took his mind off everything. Tossing bandages, balancing medicines, carrying a lot of green eco. It kind of reminded him of all the crap Samos made him do back in Sandover.
At least the monks were nicer than the old man.
Things were winding down by the time Ionna got back. There were a few Wastelanders who were currently on bedrest for their injuries, but the chaos of a full infirmary had died down. They all looked up when the bell jingled overhead and Ionna swept in, hanging up her cloak. Daxter practically flew to her.
"Hey, doc! We gotta dead man walkin' over here!" He glanced over at Jak. "Well, uh, lying down, at least."
"Give me a moment." She sighed, exhausted, as she walked over. "I leave for a day and it all goes to shit." She reached over to tilt Jak's chin up. "His vitals are fine, which is the most important thing. Damas, can you get me the ammonia salt, please?"
He did so, while Daxter pushed a chair up to Jak's bedside. Ionna sat gratefully. "So what do we do?" Daxter asked anxiously.
"First," she said, taking the little bottle of crystals from Damas, "we evaluate him. You said he was speaking and conscious?" She directed this question to Damas, who nodded.
"That's good." She uncapped the bottle and pointed it towards Jak's nose. His eyes blinked open and he rubbed them with the back of his hand. "Jak? Can you hear me, child?"
"Mmmpheah." He sounded almost drunk to Daxter, his words dizzily slurring into each other. "...Yeah, I hear you."
He moved to sit up, but Ionna kept him anchored down. "Don't move," she ordered. "Just answer my questions, Jak, please. Do you know where you are?"
"Home." His blue eyes slid over the room. "No…the…place. Dax…?"
"Right here, you big lug." Daxter leaned over eagerly.
"You okay?"
"Jak." Ionna's voice was sharp as she brought his attention back. "Daxter is not lying in a bed right now. What place are you?"
"The sick place." Jak rubbed his eyes again. "You know where."
Ionna's lips quirked up. "I'll take it. Jak, who is that?" She pointed to Damas, who didn't look the slightest bit alarmed that she was using him as a medical tool. "Tell me his name."
"Sand king," he grunted. Damas snorted in laughter. "Hey, Damas."
"Hello, Jak."
"Talking and thinking is good." Ionna pressed her hand to his forehead, frowning. "He has a fever. Damas?"
The king swung around and started pumping water. He came back a few seconds later with a damp, cool cloth. She pressed it against Jak's forehead. "How do you feel?" she asked softly.
"...Hurt," Jak mumbled. "All over."
Ionna made a sympathetic noise in her throat. "I know, child. I wish I could make it better, but the only thing I can do right now is help you sleep."
Jak groaned and kicked beneath the blankets. Damas asked quietly, "Isn't there any sort of pain medication to give him?"
"It won't work, trust me on that. This pain is…it's not the same as a normal injury." She wiped down Jak's face, then stood up. "It's more like growing pains. His body is reacting to the abnormal amount of eco he took in."
She shuffled through one of the cabinets, searching with purpose, until she pulled out a glass bottle and a syringe. She rearranged Jak's arm, then tied his bicep off with a piece of cloth. He opened his eyes blearily. "What…?"
"Shh." She put the syringe into the little bottle, pulling the plunger and filling it with a clear liquid. She flicked the syringe to clear it of bubbles. "Hold still, Jak."
His unfocused eyes suddenly sharpened, wide, on the syringe. His body seemed to automatically recoil, jerking his arm away from her. Some kind of rasping noise came out of his terrified throat.
"Wait!" Daxter leapt up onto Jak's chest. "Uh, our boy here doesn't do well with needles."
Ionna set the syringe aside. His fear calmed a bit, but his eyes were still darting around, as if waiting for some sort of ambush attack. She reached out to comfort him, only for him to flinch away.
"Here." Damas came from behind her, warm mug in hand, and pressed it to Jak's lips. "It's tea, Jak, be careful when you sip it."
Jak did as he was told, though dread still lingered in his face. Damas pulled the blankets up to Jak's neck. "Sleep," he told the young man. "You need to rest so you can heal."
Jak nodded sleepily; already the tea was doing its job. He settled his head back into the pillow. He mumbled something unintelligible, then he was out cold. Daxter sighed.
"I'm sorry." Ionna pursed her lips. "I didn't know he was afraid of needles."
"Eh, he's a big boy. He'll be okay." Daxter's voice was shaking too much for his words to stick. "Just…brings back some bad memories, ya know?"
Ionna reached over and took the syringe. "Alright," she said softly. She carefully lined up the needle and pressed it into Jak's vein. His muscles pulsed for a moment. "There," she said, satisfied.
Daxter frowned. He didn't particularly like that Jak was still getting stuck with a needle, but then, he wasn't a doctor. "That the medicine that'll heal him?"
Ionna threw the syringe and bottle away. "It's not medicine. It's a sedative," she explained. "It'll take a few days for his body to heal itself, and unfortunately, the only way out is through. It'll hurt quite a bit, so it's better that he stays unconscious."
She stretched her arms above her head. Damas' eyes flickered to her.
"Go get some rest," he said in a low voice. She raised an eyebrow. "Things have calmed down here. Seem and I will take shifts to make sure everyone is cared for."
Ionna smiled, but shook her head. "I'll stay to watch over him a bit. He might need another dose before the night is over."
While Ionna sat down beside Jak's bed, Damas headed to the sink to wash the mug. Daxter hopped to the counter beside him. "You're pretty handy in the hospital, King Crab."
Damas set the mug aside to dry. "How are you holding up?" he asked quietly. Daxter blinked. "I've had the displeasure of watching Ionna after she uses too much eco. It's difficult to watch it from the outside. Especially when you're close to the person in pain."
"Uhh…I'm okay." Daxter felt a rush of affection for the old man. "So long as I know he'll be alright."
"He will be," Damas assured him. They both glanced back at Jak, who was unnaturally still under the sedatives. "He will be."
The Haven City Council was small. Besides Ashelin, there were only five others. They were mostly remnants of her father's advisors; a way to soothe bruised egos after she'd taken control. As a result, most of the members had spent years amassing power and wealth in the city. Krew had been one of her father's advisors, and until he'd let all the metal heads in, he'd been a pretty good one.
Of course, things were different now. Ashelin had insisted on a democratic process for all major decisions. It made it easier for her to keep them in check, to make sure all that wealth and knowledge and power didn't explode in her face. It was, as she'd told Torn, "playing nice."
Well. So much for that.
"I would like to renew my motion," Veger said, puffing his chest out haughtily, "to remove Governor Praxis from her position and to appoint an interim Governor."
Ashelin glared at him. "I object, obviously. What reason do you have for your motion?"
Veger cleared his throat. "We know, of course, that the Governor has a history of cavorting with known criminals. She has a close, personal relationship with the man we banished for letting the metal heads in. I also believe she and the former Commander Torn have been negligent in their duties to this city. We have made no progress in our efforts to remove the metal head scourge from Haven!"
"Come now, Count Veger." Decker, a portly man who had run multiple food vendors in the slums and bazaar, cleared his throat. "Surely you can understand that now is not the time for administrative upheaval."
"Decker is right." Martine was the master-mind behind the strip mine's ultra-efficient methods, leading to record profits and more than a few safety violations. She gestured to Ashelin. "Governor Praxis has military experience, and we're already facing a massive soldier shortage thanks to the commander's resignation. We can't afford to play games with the metal heads."
Veger's jaw tensed; clearly, he'd been hoping to garner favor for his idea. However, he simply said, "I merely wanted to bring to everyone's attention some of the more…unsavory parts of our leadership's actions."
"Unsavory actions is putting it lightly. Some would say it was criminal." Ludo was the owner of the port barges, a trader who specialized in rare items, including (or so the rumor said) Lurkers. He'd suddenly found a lot of his income missing since the regime change. "Honestly, I think we ought to consider banishment for her, as well as her crazy little commander friend."
Ashelin stiffened, ready to attack back, but there was no need; a chorus of voices came to her defense.
"Outrageous, sir!" Decker slammed a hand on the table. "You can't simply throw out whoever you don't like! And I have not seen anything that the Governor has done that's anywhere near illegal!"
Ludo threw up his hands. "It was just a suggestion."
"Well, then suggest less foolish things next time," Martine snapped. "Banishment? Really? How absurd."
"Excuse me." The last member of the council raised her hand. "I'd like to speak."
All eyes went to a woman named Mills. She was the replacement for Krew, one that Ashelin picked herself. Mills had been a commander of the KG until she'd been discharged for a few too many injuries. According to some of the old stories that floated around KG barracks, she was missing a few crucial organs.
Back then, she'd been Ashelin's mentor. A stern, no-nonsense soldier with a knack for whipping young folks into shape. Now she stood on the council, an outsider who held her own special kind of power.
"I can't speak to the Governor's actions," Mills began, "but I can speak to what I know, and I know soldiers. The Krimzon Guard is in shambles, if I might speak frankly."
Ashelin felt her stomach drop. "I know we lost a lot of troops, but we have enough to protect the city."
"Sure. Now." Mills folded her arms and tilted her chin up. "Morale is low, lower than I've ever seen. At some point, we will have to face a reality: we don't have enough trained soldiers to fight against the metal heads."
Veger waved her off. "Then we institute a draft," he said breezily. "Numbers are not the issue."
"Conscription only works if we have the force to back it up," Mills retorted. "Right now, if we lose any more guards, we will lose the war. My fear is that, by replacing Governor Praxis, we risk outright rebellion from the KG."
Veger humphed. "I am a man of the people," he said grandly. Mills rolled her eyes. "I am well acquainted with our humble guards. They are loyal to the city, not to whoever the governor is."
There was a beat of silence, before Mills said, "With all due respect, Count Veger, if that were the case, we wouldn't have faced mass resignations after Commander Torn left."
Veger's face flushed red. Mills didn't mind it, however.
"You seem very intent on pushing out the Governor's appointees." The others murmured in agreement. "Whether you have the city's best interests or a personal vendetta against Governor Praxis, the fact remains: any further upheaval risks the loss of more men."
The council grew quiet, then Decker said, "W-well, shall we put it to a vote, then? I'll call role." He cleared his throat. "Veger?"
"Aye."
"Ludo?"
"Aye."
"Decker—I say nay. Mills?"
"Nay."
"Martine?"
"Nay."
"And finally," Decker said with a flourish, "Praxis?"
"Nay." Ashelin's eyes met Veger's furious ones. "The motion is denied. Good luck next time, Veger."
Veger grit his teeth. "You are all making a foolish mistake," he said, his voice slick with arrogance. "Don't expect me to save you when Ashelin Praxis makes a fatal error."
With that, he turned on his heel and stormed to the elevator. Ashelin sighed heavily, while Decker cleared his throat again. "Ah…meeting adjourned, then."
They all stood up and made for the elevator, except for Ashelin. She waited until the council room was empty before she picked up her communicator.
"...Jak?" she asked tentatively. No response. Not that she expected one. "Listen, Jak…I know you're probably not too happy with me right now. But I could use some help, and I…I think you're the only one who can help me."
The comm was silent for a moment, then there was the click of someone responding. At first, she felt a flutter of hope. But the voice wasn't Jak's.
It wasn't, as she had also expected, Daxter's either. Instead, the voice was cold and furious, smooth as water.
"Hello, Ashelin Praxis."
Ashelin stiffened. She'd only met the woman on the other end once before, but she'd certainly made an impression. Ashelin could still feel the ethereal power that had surrounded them, the unnaturally bright glow of her skin, the ease with which the woman had commanded her power.
Her father had always claimed dark eco was the most powerful weapon they had. But Ashelin knew better: she'd take dark eco over light any day of the week.
"Jak is currently unable to speak to you," Ionna continued. "But you and I should meet. I have a few questions you need to answer."
Okay, but why did Ashelin have that beacon? How does she know about Damas? Why is nothing ever explained in this game series?!
