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Though Damas didn’t show it, he was not blind to the similarities Jak shared with his son, as well as the Mar family line in general. From facial structure to the colour-gradient hair that would pop up every generation or so, Jak wouldn’t look out of place in the family tree.
Aside from genetic similarities, there was also the channelling.
Damas had already seen the Dark Eco beast Jak could transform into, but he’d also has his subjects and the Monks report about Jak being able to transform using what was very likely Light Eco, though he’d yet to see it for himself. The only beings who could channel Light Eco were those who could use all four base Ecos instead of just one like the Sages of old, and the only Channelers Damas had heard of always belonged to the line of Mar.
So, where did that put Jak?
If it was just the genetic similarities or just the channelling, Damas could perhaps write Jak’s familiarity off as a coincidence not worth digging into. Gradient hair, though rare outside the family, was not secluded to solely the line of Mar. And though the line of Mar held the only channelers known to history, Jak could theoretically be the first of his line just as Mar was the first of his line.
But the fact that Jak had both was leading Damas to only one possible answer.
But before Damas could decide whether that answer was truly the only option, he first needed to gather more information from Jak.
“Sig tells me that you often return to Haven when you leave.” Damas brought up as he and Jak sparred.
The king had claimed that he wanted a more personal evaluation of Jak’s fighting abilities without a weapon and Jak had been happy to jump at the chance. It had been a long time since he’d last been able to spar, most people in the future valuing guns over physical combat, though it was understandable with the enemies they had to face compared to three centuries ago.
“It is unusual to return to a place you have been cast out of.” Damas continued while jabbing forward with a punch.
“Yeah, I know.” Jak agreed as he dodged. “But there’s people there that I care about, I don’t want to just leave them to the Metal Heads and Death Bots when I could help.”
Damas hummed.
“You are not far away from earning your final War Amulet and becoming a full citizen of Spargus. And as a full Spargun, you would have the option to sponsor outsiders for citizenship.” He offered.
Jak paused, almost letting Damas get a free hit before he blocked it. “Really? I could do that?”
“New citizens are usually expected to wait a while before putting forward a sponsorship, but that is not a written rule. If you have someone that you believe needs to be brought into Spargus quickly, all you need to do is earn your final amulet.” Damas explained.
Jak thought about it but then frowned.
“I have some in mind, but I’m not sure that they’d be able to make it through the area trials.” He admitted.
He would love to be able to invite Keira to be part of the new home he’d found. Jak knew how unhappy she’d been at having to give up the way back to their Sandover for the sake of completing the time loop. Haven was never and could never be ‘home’ for either of them, just the place they had to live.
Spargus wasn’t exactly Sandover, but it was closer to their home than Haven and somewhere that Keria could possibly find more comfortable, just as Jak did.
But while Jak wouldn’t call his friend defenceless, Keira also wasn’t trained like him, so would struggle if expected to fight for her own citizenship.
“The Arena is not the only way to become a citizen of Spargus, though it is the most common. We understand that there are those who have value outside of their ability to fight.” Damas corrected Jak’s assumption.
“Wait, there are other ways?!” Daxter exclaimed from where he was sitting to the side, having not wanted to be on Jak’s shoulder where he could get hit during the spar. “Then how come you never gave me and Jak any of these options? Why just send us into the death pit of lava?”
“Neither of you had a sponsor, and those seeking citizenship without a sponsor must go through the Arena.” Damas explained as they finished the current sparring session.
Daxter grumbled in response while Jak shrugged.
While he did have other capabilities other than his combat prowess and driving skills, they were his main skills. So, even if he had been given an option for his trials, he would have likely chosen the Arena anyway.
“Keira’s a really good mechanic. She’s built a lot of really important stuff.” Jak said.
Like the first zoomer and the Rift Rider that took them through time.
“I’m going to put forward my beloved Tess. The weapons she builds are as amazing as she is, she’s got brains and beauty all wrapped up in a single amazing package.” Daxter proclaimed. “Though, if I ask her to come here, who would run the Naughty Ottsel?”
“Do you have any family you’d want to invite, after your final trial?” Damas emphasised to remind the boys that they couldn’t yet do anything.
Jak paused slightly before shaking his head.
“Nah.” He said.
“No parents, no siblings.” Daxter added carelessly. “Just each other.”
“Who raised you then?” Damas inquired, reaching to see if he would be provided more evidence for his theory.
“My uncle.” Jak shrugged. “He took in Daxter and I when we came to the village.”
“Long gone now though.” Daxter said, sounding like his words held double meaning.
“What happened to your parents?” Damas asked cautiously, aware that his digging was becoming noticeable.
Jak shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just found wandering the streets as a kid. I was mute, so when Samos found me, I couldn’t tell him anything.”
“How old were you?”
Jak thought back to his younger-self, trying to remember how old he looked, then subtracting the time the Kid spent in the Underground’s care. “Three-ish, maybe?” He answered uncertainly, hands finding their way to his seal out of habit.
Apparently, no one in the Underground thought to teach his younger-self how to communicate without the use of speech. So, by the time that his adoptive uncle had noticed the gap in his education and taught him how to write, he no longer remembered anything about his old life to write down, not even his original name.
“Samos?” Damas questioned as he remembered the name. “I believe I remember him. He was attempting to become a Sage last I heard.”
‘Attempting’ was the key word. From what the history books taught, becoming a Sage was a long and time-consuming process that involved being completely emersed in their chosen Eco, usually requiring a guiding mentor. Time the practicing-Sage did not have when expected to perform other duties, Eco that there was limited access too, with the best places presenting the dangers of Metal Heads, and there being no other Sages around to instruct.
“Succeeded actually. Thanks to me, and Jak too I guess.” Daxter bragged, though it also sounded like a complaint.
“So, Samos was your uncle?” Damas asked.
It was hard to imagine the practicing-Sage he knew raising a child of any sort. Damas hadn’t known the man well, but he didn’t seem like the type to know a child from a tree.
Daxter started spluttering and made a sound like he was dying.
Even Jak pulled a slight face.
“No. He’s just the guy who found me and helped teach me about Eco.” Jak corrected. “I was sort of just passed around the Underground until Samos took me to Sandover for safety. My Uncle was a guy from the village who decided to adopt me.”
Damas hummed at he thought over the information and pulled conclusions from it.
Jak having an uncle had initially been a hurdle to his theory, but from the sounds of it the man wasn’t actually related to Jak.
“Village?” He picked out the next subject. “I wasn’t aware of any villages left.”
Jak startled, having forgotten that only fortified cities remained in this time period thanks to the Metal Heads.
He debated try to explain time travel but then dismissed it. The existence of time travel was a hard bridge to sell, and that was without getting into him being part of a time loop with his younger-self. Ashelin didn’t show any issues believing it, but she had known about the two Samos’ and had multiple people all relaying the same story about Jak and his friends being from the past. Meanwhile, Jak would only have Daxter to back him up if he tried to explain.
“Yeah, Sandover’s from really far away. The Metal Heads didn’t invade until a few years ago.” Jak fudged the truth.
He wasn’t technically lying. Sandover may have fallen to the Metal Heads and then had Haven built on top of it three centuries ago, but in Jak’s personal view of time, the invasion had only happened a few years prior. And Sandover really was from far away, just far away in time instead of far away in location.
“Ah, I see.” Damas said.
He supposed, that if a village was remote and isolated enough, that settlements beyond the fortified cities could have been out there.
“I am sorry for your loss.” Damas told Jak, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It must have been a great village of strong people to have survived for as long as it did.”
“Yeah, it was.” Jak said, rubbing his thumb over his seal as he thought of his village and the people lost alongside it. “And they were.”
From his closer position to Jak, Damas took notice of the seal in Jak’s hand.
“Where did you get that?” Damas demanded seriously.
Jak startled, having not expected Damas’ sudden change in demeanour.
“It’s mine.” Jak clenched his hand around his seal and brought it closer to his chest.
“Yours? Who gave it to you?” Damas placed his other hand on Jak’s other shoulder, holding the teen in place.
“Woah, what’s going on?” Daxter questioned in surprise.
Damas quieted him with a glare.
“I-I don’t know.” Jak answered, wanting to pull back. “I was found with it around my neck.”
“You were found with it.” Damas repeated himself as pieces fell into place.
Still, there were other possible answers that needed to be covered first.
“Do you know that it means? What it represents? What it does?” Damas relaxed his grip slightly but still didn’t let go of Jak’s shoulders.
Jak nervously flexed his grip on his seal, debating whether to say it. Damas obviously knew the meaning behind the seal, and Jak had already claimed it as his, but admitting to his supposed heritage was still uncomfortable to him.
“It means that he’s the heir of Mar and Haven. Yeah, we know.” Daxter spoke up for Jak when he saw his friend struggling. “Not that we really care. I mean, I would have liked living in royalty, but it’s not really Jak’s thing. And honestly, I love yah Jak, but I can’t see yah ruling a city.”
Jak’s lips twitched at Daxter’s attempts to alleviate the mood.
Damas let out a long breath.
There was one last question left to ask.
“Is it real?”
Fakes of the family Seal undoubtably existed, whether to fake reputability or as merchandise. But only seals crafted by a descendant of Mar and empowered by the Heart of Mar would access the Precursor vents and doors, and only when held by a descendant of Mar.
“It opens vents and Precursor doors, if that’s what you mean.” Jak confirmed anxiously, not knowing how Damas would respond next.
Damas went silent as he processed everything.
Jak looked similar to his son and his family in general, he was a Channeler, he didn’t know anything about his family, a Sage and leader of the Underground movement thought young-Jak important enough to protect and take far away from the city for safety, and he was found wandering the streets at around three with the Seal of Mar around his neck.
There was only one explanation for all of it.
Jak was his nephew.
Damas didn’t remember his elder sister much.
There had been a large age gap between them as a result of the Mar family line having constant fertility issues, often said to be a trade-off for their inherent channelling abilities and ability to use Precursor tech, which had worsened in the past few generations to the point that his sister had been an only child until he had come along unexpectantly as a ‘miracle baby’.
From what Damas remembered of Nym, she had been kind and loving towards him, but she was also too busy to spend much time with him, tending to her duties as crown princess or personal matters he had been too young to understand or be interested in.
Then, one day, Nym wasn’t there anymore, and Damas never knew why, being told to not speak of Nym by his parents, like they wanted to forget her existence. But his parents could not stop the rumours or stop Damas from overhearing them.
He heard whispers that Nym had committed some grave taboo that had her quietly banished. Other whispers claimed that Nym had fallen for someone and they had eloped from Haven together, the king and queen forbidding her return after learning of it. Others still claimed that it was the pressure of one day becoming queen that had made Nym flee the city.
Damas hadn’t known what to believe, all he had known was that was the big sister he loved despite their limited time together was gone and not coming back.
Damas hadn’t had time to grieve the loss of his sister for very long. With Nym gone, he was suddenly the crown prince and had a lot more responsibilities heaped on him, as well as the pressure of being ready to assume the throne as quickly as possible since his parents were already old and could possibly pass away before he was even of age.
Praxis had been merciless in using the troubles of the Mar family to fuel his coup.
Damas was the only member of the Mar family left and if he died then the city would be left completely without a leader. It was better to instal a new government now while they were prepared, whether Damas wanted it or not.
Nym had abandoned the city already, whose to say that her brother would not do the same? Again, better to instal a new government before that could happen.
And Damas wasn’t even the intended heir anyway, he ascended to the throne too young and wasn’t fit to rule. Praxis was a lot more suited to rule as the first leader of a new government.
Nym’s fate after leaving/being banished from Haven was a complete mystery to Damas. Where she went or if she even survived a single day outside of Haven walls had gone forever unanswered.
Until today, it seemed.
Damas had no other siblings and he had no other relatives from the Mar line, as far as he knew. But Jak was clearly a member of the Mar family, meaning that he had to be Nym’s son, which also meant that Nym had survived somewhere long enough to at least give birth to Jak. The name ‘Jak’ was even a name commonly used in the family, it being the name of Mar’s firstborn son.
Jak’s seal was likely Nym’s, passed down to him from his mother.
But if Jak was Nym’s son, that left the question of where Nym herself was. Why was Jak left on the streets of Haven so young?
The possible answers were not ones that Damas wanted to entertain.
The first option was that, like Damas’ own son, Jak had been taken from his mother but had then fled his captors in Haven. Or that someone from the resistance against Praxis had kidnapped Jak with the express purpose of having a malleable heir to place on the throne after the Baron was defeated.
This left the possibility of Nym still being out there alive somewhere, also looking for her son, and for both Jak and Damas to be able to reunite with her.
The other possibility was much more unfortunate, but also likely.
Given how old Jak looked to be and how old he was when found on the streets, that would put a young-Jak in Haven at around the time of the coup. And that time would be the most dangerous for Nym to decide to return to the city for whatever reason.
Before or after the coup, the lost princess returning would have been a threat to Praxis’ plans and rule, and Damas knew that Praxis had not been above horrible deeds up to and including murder. And if Nym had entered the city quietly without announcing her presence, that would have made it easy for the Barron to take out that threat, unknowingly leaving behind her son for someone else to find.
Whatever Nym’s fate, it didn’t change the here and now.
That her son and Damas’ nephew stood before him.
“I…” Damas tried to summon the words but found himself struggling.
How could he even begin to tell Jak who he was?
“I…” Damas sighed.
Letting go of one of Jak’s shoulders, Damas reached into his belt pocket and withdrew his own Seal of Mar.
Jak gasped slightly at the sight of it, looking back and forth between the two seals and then up at Damas.
“Wait, so…so you’re…” Jak also struggled with his words.
They both had the same seal, a seal that Samos told him belonged to the old royal family of Haven. For Damas to have one, it would mean that he was, or rather had been, the king of Haven.
Did that mean that Damas was his father?
“I…had a sister.” Damas finally managed to get out. “She had left Haven a long time ago and I never knew what became of her. But now, here you stand before me, her son.”
Jak blinked in surprise at being given an alternate explanation for his parentage.
“You…really think so?” He asked.
“There can’t be any other explanation, you are of the line of Mar and the only one who could have given birth to you is my sister, who had her own seal to pass down.” Damas assured.
Jak stroked his thumb over his seal, which had apparently been his mother’s seal before his.
He slipped to the floor as the weight of what he’d just learned piled on him.
He had answers about his family, about his mother, he had a-.
“Uncle?” The word slipped out without Jak meaning to.
It felt weird to call Damas that, and like he was getting too personal too quickly.
“Yes.” Damas slipped to the floor next to Jak. “I am your uncle. And you are my nephew.”
Daxter walked over to Damas and hummed loudly, looking the king up and down.
“Well, certainly an upgrade from the last uncle. We get to trade in an explorer for a king.” He said.
“I’m glad I meet your approval.” Damas told Daxter blandly.
“You’re welcome.” Daxter grinned, wilfully ignoring the king’s sarcasm.
“Where is she now?” Jak asked.
Damas thought about his answer and decided that it was better to be straight with his newfound nephew.
“I do not know. Until realising who you were, I didn’t know if she survived after leaving Haven all those years ago. But if you were found in Haven without her, then you were either taken from her or she was killed on her return to the city.” He gave his honest thoughts.
Jak clenched his fists as he felt the Dark Eco in him tingle slightly in reaction to his anger. If his mother died in Haven, then he knew who would be to blame; yet another reason to feel robbed of his revenge when Kor killed Praxis.
“Can you tell me of her?” He asked, internally cringing at how young he sounded in his request.
Damas nodded understandingly.
“Her name was Nym.”