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Chapter Text

Prologue

The sand-storm raging outside the palace could hardly compare to the tumult that was swirling inside Damas, his pacing providing the only sanity he could think to create at the moment. Handmaids and nurses had been rushing in and out of their room all day, the concern for the queen mounting as the day lingered on and her labor never seemed to near its end.

“Your Majesty,” a servant approached cautiously, the king’s mood having gotten worse throughout the day.

Damas whirled on the poor girl, prepared for the worst. He was pleasantly surprised however when she hastily told him that the queen was close to giving birth at which Damas rushed passed her and burst through the door, the smell of blood and tears assaulting his nostrils. He heard the cries of his wife before he saw her, the handmaids crowded around her bed.
He pushed his way through the gaggle of women to the only one that mattered, clutching her hand tightly as she continued to cry through the pain.

“Damas,” she said breathily, tears continuing to stream down her face incessantly.

“I’m here Fula, I’m here,” he whispered calmly, running a hand through her sweaty hair. She held onto his hand with a vicelike grip, the healer at the foot of the bed ordering her to push.

“Once more Your Majesty,” she said firmly, the queen obeying with a scream. Just as Damas was about to give up hope, he heard the cries of his child rise while his wife’s decreased.
He was stunned into silence as a flurry of activity took place around him, the nurses running back and forth to help in providing care for the baby and the mother.

“Your Majesty,” a handmaid that couldn’t be older than twenty approached him, a bundle wrapped in a cream blanket resting in her arms. “You have a son,”

“A son,” Damas whispered in awe as he took the newborn and looked at a face he had never seen before but instantly adored. His head was adorned with a light layer of brightly colored fuzz that he had clearly inherited from his mother. He cautiously brought him to Fula whose face lit up with a bright smile at the sight of their child brought into reality.

“What should we name him dear?” Fula asked as she looked upon the face of her child with the utmost tenderness.

“Mar. Named for our great ancestor,” Damas said proudly, touching a calloused finger to the surprisingly soft cheek of his newborn son.

Fula gave a rather uncharacteristically sour face at the name her husband had picked out which he noticed right away.

“No?” Damas asked, laughing good-naturedly as his wife shook her head vigorously. “Do you have something else in mind?”

Fula nodded, Damas bringing the baby close to her and resting him gently into her open and waiting arms.

“Jak,” she said, pulling back the light blanket to look at the face of their sleeping boy, his tiny chest moving up and down with his small yet steady breathing. Damas looked at his wife before his gaze was also drawn to the tiny being in her arms.

“Jak. I think that’s a perfect name,”

As if the baby understood his name, his eyes opened for the first time and startled both of his parents by their brilliant azure hue.

“He has your father’s eyes,” Fula whispered as she leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder.
Damas was not an emotional man, but seeing his son who carried in him the features of the woman he loved and the blood of his ancestors caressed so softly by his wife brought tears to his eyes. He embraced his small family in his arms with a swirl of pride, understanding that his entire world rested there now.

The royal family slept well that evening and in the morning, the whole of Spargus erupted into exuberant cheers at meeting their prince beside the smiling faces of their king and queen.

Life went on well with both parents adjusting to their new roles with great efficiency and excitement with sleepless nights and learning experiences abounding; but some stories are not destined to receive the happy ending they deserve.

A plague struck the kingdom, the cause of which remained a mystery to all the healers within its walls and seemed to have no cure aside from time, for some recovered from it while others fell prey to its deadliness. The disease ran rampant, caring not for any distinction in station or breeding; and so it was after only a mere two months of the celebration of the birth of the new heir, that a funeral was held for their beloved queen.

The entire kingdom of Spargus wept bitterly that night at the loss of their queen, but no heart grieved more than that of their king. With his son held tightly to his chest, Damas cried desperately for the death of his dearest love and the fact that their son would never know her.

————

“Jak! Where are you?”

The irritation in his best friend’s voice could be heard even despite the static that was always prevalent on their coms, Jak rolling his eyes at the ottsel’s behavior. He revved the engine of his dune buggy to get through a rather deep patch of sand and breathed a sigh of relief once he had made it.

“Are you listening to me Jak?”

Jak let out a grunt in acknowledgement, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter through a notoriously difficult chicane.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Daxter!”

“What?”

“I’m trying to focus here!” the fifteen-year-old yelled over the com, his exasperation with the orange critter coming to a head from his continuous questioning and the impending doom that he may just crash if he wasn’t mindful of the desert surrounding him. The fluctuation of the winds not helping with how they constantly altered the shifting terrain.

“Well excuse me! I was just trying to get a message through, but no! Mr. High and Mighty doesn’t have time for that!”

“Then stop blabbering and tell me the message!” Jak ordered in frustration.

“Damas said you better get home toot sweet!”

“What for?” the teenager asked through gritted teeth as he barely managed a tight turn around an outcropping of rocks. He let out the breath he had been holding in relief as he completed the maneuver, knowing that Kleiver would have his head if there was even one new scratch on the buggy he had lent him.

“How should I know? He’s your father! Just get here ok,”

Jak could tell that was the end of the conversation as the static completely died out on his end, the only sounds he could hear now being the desert winds above his head and the purring of the engine under the hood. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sudden disruption finally ceased, his focus now fully engrossed on the task of making it back to Spargus without causing any damage to himself or to the borrowed vehicle. “Easy as falling off a log,” Jak muttered, a smirk lighting up his face as his foot pressed harder against the gas pedal, kicking up a stream of dust in his wake.

————

“Where have you been?” Damas didn’t sound irritated like Daxter had earlier, but rather had a worried lilt to his voice and concern creasing his brow.

“I was just practicing out on the dunes,” Jak answered, jabbing a thumb behind him. He noticed that even after his explanation, it did little to ease the worried line across Damas’s visage. “Sorry Dad,”

Damas watched the boy as he shifted his feet, his boot kicking at the stone floor. He let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You had me worried,” he finally spoke, his voice sounding exhausted.

“I am sorry Dad. I know I should have told you where I was going,”

Damas knew that trying to stay mad at his son was a foolhardy exercise, especially considering that the boy seemed to be repentant of his misdeeds.

“How’s it hangin’ your leadership?” Daxter said as he entered the room unannounced with a two-fingered salute. “I see you found the prodigal son,” He hopped up on his best friend’s shoulder and leaned his arm atop the boy’s bright hair, smushing it slightly.

Damas sighed again before he forgave his son and dismissed the Ottsel’s characteristically bad timing. Jak’s shoulders slumped in relief at his father’s understanding. “Now, go get ready. we’ve already wasted enough time,”

Jak’s eyebrows furrowed, his head cocked to the side in clear confusion at his father’s statement.

“The new sage is arriving today,” Damas reminded him, but to his great surprise Jak’s face was still as befuddled as before. “The Green Sage? From Sandover Village?”

Jak shrugged his shoulder and shook his head, still completely perplexed by what his father was saying.

“You forgot didn’t you,” the king replied as he sat down upon his throne with a rather inelegant plop. “We went over this three times, Jak! How could you have possibly forgotten?”

“You say that as if he would remember details like that,” Daxter added sarcastically, barely dodging the smack that Jak aimed at him. The glare that followed also did little to impact the rodent’s behavior.

“Never mind! Go get into something at least somewhat presentable,” Damas ordered, leaning back in his throne and presenting the perfect picture of the king that he was.

Jak looked down sheepishly at his sandy clothes, smiling embarrassingly as he bowed slightly to his father and left the room to go change.

“Well that went well,” It seemed Daxter’s sarcasm knew no bounds.

“You didn’t help out there! Were you trying to get me in even more trouble?” Jak asked exasperatedly.

“You don’t need my help getting into trouble, Jak. Getting out of it, now that’s what I’m here for,”

The teenager rolled his eyes at the ottsel as he approached his bedroom, opening the door and waiting for Daxter to make his exit. When he didn’t get the hint, Jak cleared his throat, gesturing towards the empty hallway with his chin.

“What?”

Jak raised an eyebrow and settled his hands on his hips in a more direct attempt at convincing the critter to leave.

“Oh I see how it is! I stick my neck out to save your’s, and I end up getting kicked the curb!”

Jak shook his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics which Daxter replied to by jumping down from the teen’s shoulder.

“No, no! Don’t try to convince me to stay! I won’t have it buddy boy!” Daxter said, turning away from Jak with a flourish of his tail and an upturn of his nose.

“Good,”

Daxter was legitimately shocked at hearing the slamming of Jak’s door, the boy obviously listening to his father’s instructions and leaving his best friend out of it.

“Jak!” Daxter whined, pounding a paw against the wooden door in a poor attempt at getting his attention.

“Nice try, Dax!” Jak called from inside his room, toeing off his boots and socks while simultaneously pulling his sand-covered tunic over his head. His nose scrunched up in disgust as he tossed the garment into a nearby wicker basket so that it could be washed later. He quickly changed from his tan pants into a slightly nicer pair of grey ones, rolling his eyes as Daxter continued to plead outside the door. He searched through the shirts hanging in his closet and found a dark blue one that he had gotten on his last birthday that was in better shape than anything else he owned. Once he had kicked the sand out of his boots and put on a fresh pair of socks, he looked in the foggy mirror beside his bed and noticed that his goggles were askew. He straightened them out and proceeded to brush a hand through his spiky bright green hair, particles of sand tossed from the neon locks.

He looked over himself one last time and nodded his personal approval at his countenance. He opened the door only to find Daxter still there, pounding half-heartedly against the door which had just been replaced with his legs. Jak shook his head a smiled fondly at the act, his hands on his hips and his foot tapping impatiently to see just how long the Ottsel was going to keep up the action.

Daxter’s eyes slowly traveled up the entirety of his friend until he reached his own eyes which were filled with mirth.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there all day? Let’s go!” Daxter called as he began running down the hallway back towards the throne room. Jak shook his head and chuckled as he followed after the blur of orange fur.

They arrived only moments before the new sage had, Damas nodding in approval at his son’s outfit choice. “That’ll do,” he said, beckoning the boy to join him beside his throne. Jak obliged, taking the stairs two at a time and getting into position just as a servant came forward to announce the coming of their guests.

“The Green Sage Samos and his daughter Keira,” he announced, bowing respectfully before his monarch. Damas nodded in acknowledgment as the pair stepped forward.

“Your Majesty. It is truly an honor to be welcomed into the kingdom of Spargus,” Samos said, bowing as low as his stature would allow. Damas lifted a hand to dismiss the pair from any formalities, rising from his seat to greet them not as a king, but as a man.

“Please, to my people I am Damas and seeing as you will be among them, you may refer to me as such also,”

“You are very kind,” Samos replied with a smile.

Samos looked every part a sage, what with his high platform wooden sandals, his long white beard, his strangely asymmetrical spectacles and the log that held his hair – or was it his hair that held the log? Jak couldn’t be certain. His skin was a pale green, almost the color the cactus plants that grew around the desert and his clothes were rather plain but still made him look rather wise.

But what truly caught Jak’s attention was the sage’s daughter. She had shoulder-length teal hair that Jak absently wondered if it felt as soft as it looked and green eyes like emeralds. She wore a white tank top and a pair of purple overalls, the sleeves tied around her waist. It seemed as if she had literally just come from a garage what with her very mechanic-like garb but the oil and grease stains one would expect for a mechanic to sport were absent from her ensemble. She seemed rather intimidated by the situation, switching from one foot to the other periodically while her father spoke to Damas.

“May I introduce my daughter, Keira,” Samos said in his gravely voice as he gestured to the girl who bowed her head slightly.

Damas bowed his head in return, before he gestured to his side. “And allow me to introduce my son, Jak,”

Jak was pulled from his self-induced stupor when he heard his name come from his father, his gaze directed immediately to the man’s face. Damas’s eyes motioned towards their guests signalling what he wanted his son to do. Jak bowed his head towards the father and daughter and offered them a shy smile.

The daughter – Keira, Jak remembered – returned his smile and it instantly threw him into an internal panic, his entire being freezing and causing the girl to giggle at his appearance. He felt his face heating at the gesture, unsure how to respond as he felt the blush travel all the way up to the tips of his ears.

Damas thankfully could sense his son’s dilemma and decided that it would be best for their guests to be shown their rooms in order to rest from their long journey. “Once you have settled and feel refreshed, we will have dinner,” Damas clapped and the same servant from earlier entered the room and ushered the father and daughter out of the room and to their chambers.

“Are you alright, son?” Damas asked once they were alone.

“Y-yeah,” Jak stuttered, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.

Damas frowned but was unable to say anything as Daxter beat him to it, his crassness always a challenge to deal with.
“Wasn’t she a pretty little thing, eh Jak?” Daxter goaded, elbowing his friend on the shoulder.

Jak’s face grew even darker, his voice squeaking slightly as he yelled at the Ottsel.

“Shut up!”

Damas was taken aback by his son’s attitude watching as he and Daxter debated, the teasing getting worse while Jak fired back at the critter, his face getting redder and redder the longer they argued.

“Oh you got it bad!” Daxter claimed, laughing hysterically at the teenager and pointing a finger at him.

“I will kill you!”

Damas stepped between the pair claiming that there would be no maiming tonight, and that Jak needed to take a deep breath while Daxter needed to leave before Damas made him leave.

“Buzzkill,” Daxter muttered as he jumped down from Jak’s shoulder and Jak sent his father a grateful look. “I still say you got it bad!” Daxter called as he walked away.

Jak let out a primal growl, Daxter screaming as the teenager chased after him with a threatening, “Come here you!”

Chapter Text

This place was huge. Literally gigantic.

How anyone could find their way in such a maze of hallways and rooms was beyond Keira, which made her exceptionally glad that a servant had been sent to show her and her father the way to the dining room. She marveled at the history that was proudly displayed on these walls, weapons from various eras and generations exhibited like trophies and portraits of previous rulers painted in a very rustic style that seemed somehow fitting for a kingdom nestled in the desert.

She was struck by one portrait in particular, a young woman dressed in tan robes and wearing what looked like an iron crown upon her head of bright green hair. She was taken aback by her sheer beauty, her natural look only enhanced by the more simple style of garb she wore.

“Keira! Stop dawdling!” Samos called to his daughter, Keira blushing in humiliation as she ran to catch up with her father who had gotten quite far ahead of her. She apologized hastily while Samos drilled into her the importance of appearance in front of their hosts, Keira growing quite self-conscious of her simple clothes.

She had never been too focused on fashion, choosing pieces for their function typically over their appearance. She did love bright colors though, which meant that purple and pink remained a constant in her wardrobe evident in her own ensemble at the moment. She had gone with a nice pair of cropped purple slacks and a white button up blouse paired with some leather sandals that her father insisted were quite fashionable despite Keira’s doubts.

“Your Majesty,” The voice of her father pulled Keira from her thoughts and into the present which apparently had manifested itself in the form of a dining room.

She was a little startled at the small, rustic, rectangular table that the king and prince sat at, expecting something a little more extravagant for royalty.

“Samos, Keira. Come, sit,” Damas stood from his seat and gestured for the pair to sit, four other open chairs available for them to choose from.

Samos thanked Damas with a bow of his head as he took the seat directly to the left of the ruler while Keira debated about which one she should choose. She didn’t want to make a big fuss about this situation and so she took the seat that was closest to her which just so happened to be the one right next to the prince. At the moment, his name escaped her.

Damas sat and motioned for the servants to bring the trays of food forward, Keira once again surprised by the simplicity of everything. There weren’t dishes upon dishes of food, but rather just enough to fulfill the needs of those seated at the table. There was some kind of roasted meat, some bright purple round fruits in a wooden bowl, a platter of steamed vegetables and a salad that looked quite plain.

Every dish of food was passed around the table, each person in turn serving themselves before handing the dish to the next person. Damas struck up a conversation about Eco with Samos to which the sage immediately lit up, Keira smirking at her father’s animated gestures as he spoke about his favorite subject. Keira chose to quietly listen while she ate, pleasantly pleased by just how flavorful the food was including the plain salad. She was about to cut into one of the vibrantly colored fruits when the king spoke up.

“You won’t want to cut into those,” he said with a chuckle. “Especially while wearing white,”

The blood rushed to Keira’s cheeks as she looked down at her plate, embarrassed.

“Jak,” The boy raised his head upon hearing his name. “Show Keira how we eat Cactus fruit,”

“That was his name,” Keira thought “Jak,” He nodded as he reached over to the bowl that held said fruits and picked one up with his fingers, tossing it into the air. He bounced it off his elbow and rolled it down his arm, his wrist twisting and flipping the fruit into his mouth. He wiped at his mouth with a thumb, the juice dripping down it. He quickly sucked the vibrant liquid from his thumb and then proceeded to wipe his hand on his pants. Damas rolled his eyes at his son’s theatrics.

“Correction, that’s the way Jak eats Cactus fruit,” Jak shrugged his shoulders as he dug back into the bowl for another fruit and repeated the same process from earlier with a little added flourish near the end. Keira noticed that his ears were starting to turn rosy at his father’s words.

At that moment Jak was extremely grateful that his father had made it a rule to not allow animals at the table because the last thing he needed right now was his best friend teasing him about his complete ineptitude when it came to girls.

“The rest of us eat them like normal people,” Damas said as he demonstrated by simply popping a smaller fruit into his mouth without any of the production that Jak had decided to add.

The small talk continued between the adults, ranging from Eco to politics and from weaponry to climate while Jak and Keira kept to themselves.

It wasn’t until dessert arrived that Keira saw some more of Jak’s personality surface, his face lighting up at the bars that were brought out. Stacked high on a plate, they were a deep brown color, Keira unsure what could possibly make them so dark.

Jak grabbed two, stuffing one unceremoniously into a napkin and shoving it in his pocket while he took a bite out of the other. His now free hand reached for a third but instead of keeping it for himself, he amazed Keira by offering it to her. She gingerly took it, her fingers brushing lightly against his which caused Jak to look away flustered.

She nibbled gently on the bar, the richness and sweetness of the dessert immediately making her crave more. She reached for a second one and saw Jak smile from the corner of her eye.

Jak had just finished a second bar and was reaching for a third when Damas cleared his throat to get his attention.

“Jak, would you like to show Keira around the palace after dinner?” he asked, the teenager hesitating for a moment before he shrugged and nodded, Damas clapping his hands with an exuberant, “Excellent! In the meantime, I can show you where your permanent residence will be,” he directed at Samos.

Samos nodded in affirmation and with that, the servants moved forward to clear the table. Jak was able to snatch one final dessert before the plate was removed, his cheeks still protruding with his current sweet.

Damas and Samos continued their conversation as they rose from the table and began to walk away from the two teenagers. Damas gave his son one final look as they began the trek towards the lab that would now belong to Samos as the new sage. Jak in turn watched his father until he was out of sight and then turned towards his companion.

“Shall we?” Jak asked, brushing his crumb covered hands against his pants and jabbing a thumb towards one of the many hallways.

“Lead the way,” Keira said, following after the boy.

The strange thing was that Keira ended up being the one to do most of the talking, her tour guide – if one could even call him that – only ever responding to questions and not initiating any conversation of his own.

“I was curious, I noticed at dinner that you put some dessert in your pocket. A little snack for later?” she teased him, surprised by the hearty chuckle that came from the boy.

“You saw that huh?” he said as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Actually, I saved one for my best friend. He’s technically not allowed at dinner, but Leaper Bars are his favorite so I had to bring him one for later,”

“Leaper Bars?” Keira asked. “Why are they called Leaper Bars?”

Jak looked at her with an expression that questioned if she was really being serious. “Cause they’re made with Leaper Lizard eggs? Why else would they be called Leaper Bars?”

Keira tried her best not to gag at the admission but she failed miserably, her body lurching forward with the action as she clutched at her stomach. Jak raised an eyebrow, uncertain what to do to try and help the poor girl. Who knew Leaper Lizard eggs would cause such a reaction? Thankfully there wasn’t any disagreement between Keira's head and her stomach that either had to deal with, the two continuing on their tour.

Jak seemed to be little more comfortable with her as the proceeded, eventually even starting bits and pieces of the conversation for Keira’s benefit.

“What’s down this hallway?” Keira asked curiously, her interest piqued at all the myriads of weapons lining the walls. Otherwise, there seemed to be nothing else adorning this particular hall.

Jak shrugged his shoulders. “An armory, my room, a training arena, a,”

Jak was very rudely interrupted by a blur of orange appearing out of nowhere, scurrying around Jak’s body and landing on his shoulder.

“Did you bring me anything Jak?” his shrill voice asked, his paws digging into the many leather pouches on the boy’s belt and throwing out a myriad of items once he decided they weren’t what he was looking for. Jak sighed as he reached into the pocket of his pants and produced the napkin from earlier, the edge falling away to reveal the sweet treat.

“Ooooo! A Leaper Bar! Nice,” he snatched the desert and began to chew it a little too loudly.

“Is that really nessasary?” Jak asked, hands on his hips as he berated the critter for his behavior.

“Whad?” he asked around a mouthful of the bar. He swallowed before he continued. “Here I am, starving to death, and my best friend decides to get on my case for it?”

Keira blinked at the pair as they bickered feeling like she was in the middle of something that she really shouldn’t be privy to.

“Your best friend is – an Ottsel?” she whispered, her eyes wide.

Both of them turned to look at her, Jak’s finger currently pressed into the Ottsel’s chest while said animal still clutched tightly to his half-eaten treat, crumbs falling to the ground.

“That’s right baby! Name’s Orange Lightning,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. "You're even cuter up close! Rawr!"

Jak smacked the rodent on the back of the head which he responded to with an aggravated “Hey!” as he rubbed the spot he'd been accosted. 

“Play nice, Dax,” Jak warned, crossing his arms to make himself look more threatening. "Or you won't get anything next time,"

"Uh! You wound me Jak!" he said melodramatically as he pressed a paw to his forehead, looking as though he were about to faint. 

“This is Daxter," Jak supplied, lifting his shoulder as if to indicate who he was speaking about and jostling Daxter in the process. "Don’t mind him. He’s always like this,”

Daxter protested, licking his paws from the remnants of his sugary delight while Jak simply motioned for Keira to follow. Daxter continued his whining, hopping from one of Jak’s shoulders to the other and back again, his hands gesturing animatedly at the severe betrayal that he had just undergone.

Keira watched the pair and began to realize that many of her original assumptions about this particular royal family were quite the opposite. They wore simple clothes, their food was served on dishes unadorned with gold or jewels, and they ate with their hands all while being generally polite and welcoming. They didn’t act like they were better than anyone else and apparently that included overdramatic Ottsels. It was far from anything that Keira had heard about from others and she couldn’t help but be grateful for it.

While it was no Sandover Village, perhaps this place wouldn't be as horrible as she had thought.

Chapter Text

The edges of sleep clung to Jak’s mind as the morning sun shone through his window. He groaned and clutched his pillow over his head in what he knew would be a futile attempt to cleave to the final fragments of his slumber only for an obnoxious voice to call out his name and subsequently provide a very physical wake-up call by landing on him.

Daxter effectively knocked all the air from Jak’s lungs, the teenager letting out a strangled “Oof” as the critter landed. 

“C’mon Jak! Do you plan on sleepin’ the whole day away?”

Jak groaned again, flipping onto his stomach and in turn jostling the ottsel from his position.

“Hey! Watch it!”

Jak couldn’t be bothered by his friend’s complaints, wanting to return to the sweet depths of sleep. He grew frustrated when his efforts were once again thwarted by the best friend - who he was currently thinking he may confiscate the title from – pushing against his shoulder with his paws.

“It’s already past seven!” Daxter tried again, pulling on the one arm poking out of the blankets. 

Jak sat bolt upright at that, his bright hair sticking out in myriads of angles and looked at the timepiece sitting on his nightstand and realized that he was indeed late for this morning’s conference. “Rats!” he exclaimed as he threw off his blankets and began rushing around his room to get ready. He tossed on a relatively clean shirt from his floor, pulling it over his head and mussing up his bedhead even further. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jak accused the ottsel, snapping a new pair of pants closed around his waist and running to retrieve his boots. He stopped once he saw himself in the mirror and ran a haphazard hand through his hair before snapping his goggles into place.

“What do you think I was trying to do Sleeping Beauty? Knit a sweater?” Daxter asked sarcastically, watching the boy as he hopped on one booted foot, his other currently being ensconced in its match. 

Jak snatched the knife that went in his boots before he left his room, slamming the door and sprinting down the hallway, Daxter barely able to climb on his shoulder and hanging on for dear life as the teenager took the shortest path he knew to the throne room.

“Dad’s gonna kill me!”

“If you don’t kill us first!” Daxter screamed as Jak vaulted over a banister. “Jaaaakkkk!”

Damas had prided himself on raising his son alone and even more so that he had turned out even halfway decent considering all the mistakes that he had made along the way, mistakes he was sure that Fula never would have made.

Still, Jak was a good kid deep down with his goal seemingly being to please his father and yet driving him crazy at the same time by doing all the things that were expected of a teenager; like right now by being late for instance.

Jak was many things, but prompt was not one of them. Damas had worked tirelessly with the boy on his tardiness, but no matter how hard he tried he could never seem to get his son to arrive earlier than five minutes late to anything which in turn put everything behind schedule.

Jak barreled into the throne room with an irate Daxter on his his heels with a speed that would have impressed anyone had it not been for the blatantly apparent fact that he was indeed running behind schedule. He skidded to a stop on the stone floor, made a quick bow to his father and then climbed the stairs to the dais two at a time. If anyone had blinked, they would have missed the entire situation unfold.

Instead of pointing out the obvious like he wanted to, Damas simply took a deep breath, determined to move forward with the day and not allow this small setback to completely derail his day. He was just thankful that their newest citizens had not seen his son’s blunder this early on in their coming. 

While Jak was unfortunately a very unpunctual boy, one thing that he had improved upon greatly in his teenage years was his attentiveness. He knew how dangerous the desert could be considering he had witnessed some of the hazards first-hand and that if he didn’t keep his mind concentrated in the moment, it could mean life or death.

Damas hoped that just like Jak’s concentration had improved with time that his punctuality would do the same.

The members of the council began making their way into the chamber, Damas acknowledging each with a nod and Jak doing likewise, his breathing returned to normal after his recent marathon run. 

This meeting was certainly different than any that had been previously held before considering that the new Sage Samos was in attendance for the first time in his three weeks since his arrival - his daughter surprisingly absent – and provided a great deal of wisdom for the diverse challenges that the kingdom was currently facing what with water shortages, more frequent attacks from Marauders, and of course the most concerning information of all being that of a Metal Head sighting.

This is what concerned Damas the most and he could see by the looks on everyone else’s faces that it was the same for them. He looked to his right to see that Jak seemed almost excited about the prospect of a Metal Head in their territory and that frightened Damas. The last thing he wanted was for his son to come face to face with one of those savage monsters though he had no doubt in his mind that Jak would put up a serious fight but still, he wasn’t about to let the fifteen-year-old go barreling into a fight with one any time soon.

Damas had been through enough scrapes with the beasts to last him a lifetime, however he had worked for nearly two decades to eradicate them from the Wastelands so that his future family could be free from dreading them. The fear seemed pervasive now that the time of Jak’s Proving was just around the corner and the boy would be forced to demonstrate his skills out in the wilderness of the Wastelands without Damas there to protect him.

He looked over at his son with a newfound amazement. To think that his little boy was turning sixteen in only a few months unnerved him but also filled him with a sincere pride that only a father could possess. How would he fare out on the dunes, searching for Precursor Artifacts for the first time? His reveries were disturbed by the clearing of a throat, his eyes roving the council before him in search of who needed his attention.

He didn’t show the surprise he felt as he sensed a hand on his shoulder, his son’s blue eyes filled with concern for his father.

Damas cleared his throat and motioned with his hand for Hutch to proceed with his findings on – was it something to do with construction? His assumptions were confirmed once Hutch dove back into his observations about the reconstructions that were needed for some more dilapidated areas of the catacombs.

“I just need a few more able bodies to assist with the restoration and exploration,” Hutch continued, his voice becoming beseeching.

Damas thought for only a moment and then found himself shaking his head. “We can’t afford to lose any more citizens to that deathtrap. My answer is no,” he pounded his staff against the stone floor, signifying the end of the conversation.

Hutch was a little surly as he gathered his scrolls of blueprints and schematics and left the room with a huff.

“What got his panties in a twist?” Daxter asked, casually leaning an arm against Jak’s head.

Jak shrugged and followed his father as he descended from the dais. He had a question that had been burning a hole in the back of his mind the entirety of the meeting and now he was even more eager to ask it.

“Dad?” he questioned, testing the waters to see if his father’s attitude was amiable enough. Damas’ only response was a small hum, acknowledging that he had heard his son call out to him. “Could I show Keira the temple ruins? She’s been here for a few weeks already but she’s only seen inside the palace walls and that’s so boring,” he asked hopefully, hands behind his back while he rocked backward onto his heals.

So Jak too had noticed that the girl had been absent from the council’s gathering this morning. He had wondered if he had been the only one who had.

Damas’ look was hard to gauge, but Jak could tell that he was considering an answer in the affirmative what with the hand stroking at his chin and his brow slightly furrowed. He had hoped that Jak would perhaps get along with Keira since they were similar in age and his only other comrade was the obnoxious chatterbox that was currently caught in a whispered argument with the boy. As he watched the pair have at each other, he understood profoundly why Jak needed, no, deserved other friends. She had only been in Spargus for two weeks and already it seemed like his son had grown accustomed to her presence.

His chest felt full as he heaved a sigh, breaking up the duo’s disagreement.

“So Dad? Can I?” Jak asked hopefully, Damas having no doubt in his mind that the hands behind the boy’s back had a few crossed fingers.

“Yeah, what do you say your kingly-ness?” Daxter goaded him from atop Jak’s shoulder, Jak shooting him a glare at the blatant disrespect.

“Dax!” he hissed through gritted teeth and his exasperation only grew when he was obviously ignored.

It felt like an eternity before Damas finally acquiesced to his son’s request and nodded.

Jak leapt into the air and pumped a fist in exhilaration, jerking Daxter with the action. He hugged his father so swiftly that Damas almost missed it.

“Be back before sunset! And no showboating!” Damas called after the teenager “And if you see any Marauders, you come straight home, you hear?” Jak turned and waved to the man, grinning from ear to ear as he ran backwards.

“I will! Don’t worry Dad!” he yelled across the open space, narrowly missing barreling into a servant.

Damas shook his head and took a deep, steadying breath to calm his nerves. “I can’t help but worry,” he muttered, determined to get his mind off his teenage son out in the desert. Alone. Well, Daxter would be with him, but Damas didn’t really put a lot of stock in him even if he did consider the ottsel to be a citizen of his domain. He did however trust Jak to be at least somewhat responsible or else he wouldn’t have said yes. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Keira hadn’t expected to be woken from her peaceful slumber by a loud pounding on her door. She woke with a start, her mind still fuzzy as she gazed around the room that had become more familiar over the past few weeks.

“Keira?” a well-known voice called from the other side of her door.

She hadn’t realized just how accustomed she had grown to hearing Jak’s voice every day,

“You up?”

“You decent?” Daxter included sarcastically, receiving a sharp smack from his companion which sent him barreling into the door with enough force that it unintentionally thrust it open, Jak pursuing him in an effort to seize his tail and pull him back through the opening only to end up falling just shy of his purpose. The pair ultimately became a tangle of limbs on the floor, Keira staring at them from her bed with a dumbfounded expression.

Color spread across Jak’s face, the heat meandering across his cheeks and down his neck at such a velocity it frightened the teenager. They continued their impromptu staring contest, neither daring to breathe for fear that the moment might worsen if they did.

Keira looked breathtaking even in a sleeping tank and with tussled hair that could almost rival Jak’s own in the morning.

Jak was the first to shatter the contact as he heard Daxter’s heavy mumbling beneath his hands, struggling fruitlessly against the boy’s much more substantial frame. He scooped Daxter up in his arms and uttered a jumbled apology as he rushed out the door, closing it behind him.

Jak groaned, slamming his head against the wall and burying his face in his hands. “Stupid, stupid!” he muttered, Daxter ambivalent to his friend’s quandary.

He was startled out of beating himself over the head by Keira clearing her throat and tilting her head to the side as if asking what it was that he had come to see her about. He noticed that she had changed out of her pajamas pretty quickly for a girl.

He shook his head in an attempt to draw his psyche from his circulating thoughts of throwing himself off the highest tower of the palace to escape the embarrassment he had just gone through. “H-hey,” he greeted her with a minuscule wave of his fingers, encouraging his heart rate to return to normal.

“Hey,” she returned.

“Hey! What are you two? Moncaws?” Daxter asked at their feet, crossing his arms indignantly.

Jak chose to ignore the ottsel’s outburst, instead opting to focus on his purpose for seeking out Keira in the first place. “I – uh, I asked my dad if we could continue showing you around today,”

“What part of the palace are we seeing today?” she asked, trying to sound fascinated rather than uninterested like she truly felt. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings after all.

The look on Jak’s face could only be described as downright roguish, his smirk erasing the nervous and discomposed boy from moments earlier.

“Who said we’re seeing another part of the palace?”

Keira inclined her head in puzzlement.

“I think we’re going to have to find you a pair of goggles in the garage. You’ll get sand in your eyes in seconds at the speed we’ll be going,” Jak said as he led down a hallways Keira hadn’t seen before.

“Goggles? Sand? Where are we going, Jak?” she stopped in her tracks and Jak swiveled to look at her in concern that he had lost her interest.

“Wait, did you say garage?” she inquired with a serious amount of fervor laced in her voice.

“Where else would you keep dune buggies?” Jak asked, shrugging his shoulders as if it would emphasize his point.

“Dune buggies?”

Chapter Text

Jak had no idea that a girl could get so excited about mechanics, but apparently he had underestimated Keira’s adoration for vehicles as he watched her chat up the few mechanics they still had handy for the back-breaking labor. She flitted about from buggy to buggy with stars in her emerald eyes as if she weren’t in the second grubbiest place in the entire castle.

“And what size battery capacity does this model take?” Keira asked as she peeked under the chassis of Klip’s current assignment.

“Uh, this one’s got a full size optima battery at twelve volts,” the burly man supplied, unsure how exactly this spry little girl had made it into the garage much less knew anything about these off roaders.

Jak watched with rapt attention as Keira’s face lit up when Klip removed the bonnet and allowed her a first-hand view of the shallow engine block. Klip was repetitively staggered by the girl’s amount of knowledge as she rattled off piece after piece not just by name, but by the original model that he had – um - borrowed said resources from.

Daxter was beginning to get antsy, pawing at Jak’s leg in annoyance as he begged for them to get going, but Jak shushed him with a low, “Just give her a few more minutes,”

Daxter huffed and crossed his arms muttering something about being lovesick.

To both boy’s shock, it was Keira who realized just how much time they had spent in the garage.

“I’m so sorry!” she apologized breathlessly, kneeling over to catch her breath from the straight sprint that she had made after she gradually migrated across the building. “Everything was just so fascinating! I had no idea there would be so many different vehicles in one place!”

“A garage with vehicles? Imagine that!” Daxter said sarcastically, dodging Jak’s hand.

“You ready to go?” Jak asked, jabbing a thumb behind him while Daxter sprang up on his shoulder.

“Absolutely! Which one are we taking?” Keira asked, hands on her hips as she surveyed the vast array of vehicles spread out before them.

“Um, mine?” Jak supplied honestly.

“You have your own dune buggy?”

Jak was worried that she was about to spontaneously combust from the look of astonishment on her face.

“Well, it’s not officially mine yet. Not until Kleiver says so,” Keira thought that she heard him mumble something about his dad as well, but she wasn’t certain.

They traveled to a separate section of the garage and if Keira had been impressed by the vehicles from just moments ago, Jak was positive she had forgotten all about them once she saw Kleiver’s crew of buggies. Each one had been customized for the rider’s specifications with modifications that would put most others to shame and showed forth the exceptional talent of Kleiver’s mechanics who were clearly on a much more advanced level that Klip and his men.

Keira was startled out of her wishful gazing by Jak calling her name.

“Here,” he said, tossing something from one of the tool boxes sprawled on the ground. Keira looked down at the item as she caught it with ease, a pair of large rim goggles that looked as if they may have just recently been purchased.

“Those should fit you,” Jak supplied, his assumptions confirmed as Keira slid them over her head until they rested adequately against her neck.

 Jak nodded as he made his way to a large, tarp-covered lump off to the side. He removed the tarp in a flourish, sending sand and dirt everywhere which he sheepishly apologized for as Keira tried to bat it away from her face. Once the dust had settled again, Keira had to blink in confusion at the runty little vehicle before her. It was nowhere near as impressive as the larger buggies that Keira had seen, but it was still quite something to behold. It looked as if it had been modified from its original singular seat model to a two seat one if the fresh welds on the roll cage and the frame were anything to go by.

“She was originally a one seater, but Kutter helped me out by modifying it to sit two,”

“This looks like it was pretty recently done,” Keira stated in awe, her fingers brushing lightly against the welds with sincere captivation. “When did you have this work done?”

Jak rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Actually, I had it done two weeks ago. I was hoping that my dad would say yes to me showing you around the desert so I had Kutter make the necessary modifications for the possibility that he would let me,”

Keira was speechless by the boy’s confidence and nervousness simultaneously contained in the same breath. He hadn’t known that his father would allow him to take her out of the palace, and yet his hope was so great in the man that he had changes needed for an excursion such as this to be made upon his vehicle. He truly was full of surprises.

“Come on! Are we gonna get going already or what?” Daxter griped, already seated comfortably behind the driver’s seat headrest, his feet crossed over the cushion.

Jak rolled his eyes but smiled as he squeezed his way through the roll cage and settled into the driver’s seat, running his hands over the steering wheel as if this buggy were his most precious possession.

Keira slid into the passenger seat bumping Jak’s elbow and apologizing for the contact. He brushed it off and proceeded through his pre-drive checklist, testing all the switches and buttons before he revved the engine to life, adrenaline suddenly and powerfully surging through Keira at the power beneath the hood breathing life into the buggy’s metal frame.

Jak drove his vehicle slowly through the working docks, many people stopping their work in order to express safety and well wishes or to command him to stay out of trouble. Jak always replied to their greetings with genuine appreciation.

One of the main garage doors creaked as it opened its rusty metal maw to the desert wasteland that loomed before them, Jak providing a two fingered salute to the kid that had unlocked it for them. They had barely made it past the threshold when the door slid shut behind them with a groan as it settled into the sandy soil.

“Those aren’t just a fashion statement you know,” Daxter said as he leaned forward and tapped the goggles that rested between his long ears.

“Dax is right. You should probably put those on right about now,” Jak said, lowering his own asymmetrical googles to settle snugly over his eyes. “Oh, and you might wanna hang on,”

It was the only warning Keira received before Jak gunned the little buggy as he shifted from first gear into second, moments later popping into third.

Keira squealed with delight as they drove across the dunes at full speed, Jak letting out a thrilled yell of “This is gonna be fun!”

Jak stood up in the buggy and cast his gaze to and fro across the mostly barren landscape. He lifted his goggles which disturbed some of the sand that had settled there from their journey out this way. He slid out from between the bars of the roll cage and landed on his feet in the malleable terrain with a soft plop, glad that he wore taller boots so the sand couldn’t find its way into them. He shaded his eyes against the blinding sunshine as they trailing up the magnificent structure that stood before them, a sight he never grew tired of.

Keira followed suit, brushing sand from her teal locks and her arms, the particles sticking to her sweat-soaked skin with tenacity.

The words that he wanted to say died on Jak’s tongue as he turned to ask Keira if she was alright. The late afternoon sun shone down on her, reflecting off the smattering of specks and making her skin sparkle as if she had freckles made of gold. He could tell the flush that was meandering across his skin was not due to the overwhelming temperature around him.

Jak was especially thankful that Daxter had run on ahead, giving his body the chance to return to a normal temperature without any of his friend’s tactless nature pointing him out his current situation to Keira.

“C’mon. We better keep up with him. Who knows what could happen if I’m not there,” Jak said to the girl who nodded in reply and followed after him at a light jog.

The stone structure was breathtaking, its gargantuan frame towering over the desolate land and providing the only shade for miles around. The pair finally caught up to the ottsel, his lighter frame able to traverse the sand much easier without having to deal with sinking into it.

“What took you so long? Sightseeing? Well news flash, there’s not much sight to see around here!” he said with his arms crossed in an attempt to look intimidating; not that it worked.

Jak lead the way through the entrance of the building, pushing aside the heavy door and urging the other two to enter while he held it open. As if by some kind of magic, torches that lined the stone walls lit up with fire, bringing the whole room into focus. Keira jumped when the torch that was right next to her lit up, startling her. She leapt backwards, the action causing her to collide with Jak who was able to catch her by the arms and prevent her from meeting the floor face-first. The teenagers blushed at the contact, nervously parting as they continued to venture further into the bowels of the temple.

“So, which temple is this one?” Keira asked curiously, running her hand against the cold, smooth surface of the walls.

Jak shrugged. “Not really sure. This one has been abandoned since before I was born. No one comes here now except for Seem who sometimes travels here to make sure no Marauders have decided to desecrate the space. At least, that’s what she says,”

Keira was about to ask who Seem was when Daxter clambered up on Jak’s shoulder and began pestering him about how slow he was going.

Keira’s attention was pulled away from the pair and to the truly amazing architectural prowess that the Precursors possessed, the beautiful stone pillars, the intricately carved curves of the walls, the smooth and jagged pieces from years of wear and tear. It was all so wonderfully mysterious.

Without warning, the lights of the torches began to snuff out, one by one. It unnerved Keira to the point where she latched onto Jak’s arm, the final light going out with a hiss.

“This is almost worse than that time you went against your old man and visited that old precursor temple! Remember that?”

keira felt Jak flinch at the recap. “Don’t remind me,” he muttered darkly. “But this is nowhere near that level, Dax,”

The critter seemed to be ignoring his best friend however as he continued to reminisce.

“I almost forget what’s it’s like to be human some days,” Daxter said wistfully.

Keira was staggered by this new revelation. “You – you were human?”

“Yeah, but that was a loooong time ago,” Daxter replied as he stretched his paws out in front of him and let out a satisfied sigh at the relief it gave his cramped muscles.

“What happened?” she asked, her interest piqued as she huddled closer to Jak.

“Dark Eco! That’s what happened! Took a bath – an unwanted bath mind you – in the stuff and ba-bang! I came out lookin’ like an underwhelming throw rug!”

Jak rolled his eyes. “We went to check out this ancient Precursor temple that had recently been unearthed by a sandstorm. Because no one else wanted to, we – well, we wanted to and we thought it was our duty as Spargans,” Jak explained, feeling his way along the wall. “My dad warned us to stay away but of course I didn’t listen and instead of finding any cool Precursor artifacts like we had expected, we stumbled upon a pool of Dark Eco. We had no idea what it was at the time, but we found out after we returned to the palace and the monks explained it to us,”

“Don’t forget the lecture the ‘Latex Sensation’ gave us for that little escapade!” Daxter added causing another groan from Jak.

“Do I want to know?” Keira questioned warily.

“Daxter has a rather strained relationship with the head monk, Seem,”Jak explained, leaning closer to Keira so only she could hear while Daxter continued to rant about the monks and their strict behaviors. “I try to avoid the subject if I can,”

“So let me get this straight, you used to be human but now you’re an ottsel and it’s because you touched Dark Eco?”

“Bingo! Hey, you’re smarter than you look sweetheart!” Daxter praised, but Keira didn’t take to kindly to his attempt at a compliment.

“Just so you know, I don’t date animals,”

Jak chuckled at the sound of offense that came from the critter. “Did we not just establish that I used to be human? I. Am. Wounded! How could you be so cruel and yet so beautiful! Jak! Avenge me!” He cried dramatically, the sound of him collapsing to the ground as if he were actually dying causing Keira to loosen her grip slightly on Jak’s arm.

An unfamiliar noise caught Jak’s attention, his ears twitching in the direction that it had come from.

“Daxter, shh,” Jak ordered, the ottsel strangely obeying instantly. He strained his ears, the sound emminating from a tunnel to their right.

“What is it?” Keira barely breathed out.

Jak listened more intently, holding his breath almost as hard as he held Keira’s hand, his own bathed in a nervous sweat. It sounded as if someone - or something - was growling. If it happened to be a something, than the pitch black would be more of a detriment to the and a help to the creature.

“I don’t think we’re alone,”

Chapter Text

Keira didn’t dare to even breathe, her fingers digging into Jak’s arm with a tenacity that almost made the boy hiss in discomfort, but he held his tongue as well since the identity of their unwanted companion was still unknown. All of Jak’s senses were on overdrive in the pitch black, his already exceptional hearing magnified tenfold at the loss of sight.

Jak’s jaw tightened as he strained to grasp any additional sound amid the shadows. His breath caught halfway to his lungs as a muted snarl loosed close to his ear, a sickening yellow glow appearing at the same time accompanied by a scraping sound deriving from the stone floor. The glow resembled what Jak could only describe as a pair of lethal eyes that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

He clamped a hand over his mouth as beads of perspiration began to form on his brow and he hoped that whatever was invading their space couldn’t smell his sweat.

He felt Daxter curled forcefully around his legs while Keira’s vice-like grip kept her location well-known to the boy, her hands growing warmer by the minute notwithstanding the chilly atmosphere of the stone temple.

He mulled over his options with the scrutiny of a warrior despite the fact that he had never experienced any confrontation outside of a poorly timed food fight, an escalated scuffle with some of the other Wastelander boys, or a heated squabble with Kleiver. Jak knew that if he were to get involved in combat with an unknown assailant he would be putting not only himself in danger, but Keira as well and that would not bode well for their developing friendship. If they were to attempt an escape now it may result in injury from the location itself or the creature if it sensed their presence. The third option wasn’t even considered as it meant leaving Keira and Daxter alone in the dark to lure the monster away. His last option was the one that they were currently doing and that was attempting to stay as motionless as possible, the stone behind them morphing into a spine of stability for the teenagers, producing an edifice that abetted them to stay standing.

Before he could make his final decision, he felt something cold and hard brush against his leg, something that was very obviously not his furry best friend. The blood in his veins turned to ice when a more intense growl was released to his right, forcing the teenager against the wall, his boots scuffling slightly against the floor.

The luminescent yellow eyes looked right at Jak and he felt rather than heard Keira’s gasp at another ominous rumble followed by what sounded like a shuffle across the floor, scraping noises growing louder and louder every second. He wasn’t sure when he had seized Keira’s hand tighter in his grip or drew her nearer to his body, but he was indebted to her for providing something to ground him to reality and keep him from uttering a sound of alarm. A hissing sound stabbed at their ears and filled the air along with an acrid smell that Jak could only describe as death

Jak could feel something sharp rake against his arm, his eyes widening involuntarily at the sensation and horror dropped down into the pit of his stomach like a stone. For the first time in his life, Jak actually dreaded that death was a probability.

The scrapes and scratches began to ebb and flow as if the figure were slow and lumbering, its footsteps uneven even though the floor wasn’t particularly irregular. It gradually retreated from their position huddled against the rock backbone of the wall, the teenagers refusing to stir for fear of it returning.

The group delayed any movement for what felt like forever before Jak made to push off the wall, Keira tightening her hand around Jak’s and Daxter dug his claws into his leg.

“Ow!” Jak hissed in pain, glaring down at where he guessed Daxter was from the feeling of discomfort in his left leg.

No one made a move when Jak’s almost silent cry echoed throughout the space, all of them desperately hoping that nothing was in ear shot to hear it.

Daxter apologized sheepishly, before he untangled himself very cautiously from Jak’s legs and the three deliberately felt their way along the walls since the torches hadn’t deigned to relight. It was a long and treacherous trek through the dark as they all soon discovered from several trips and falls from the debris littered along the ground. One such fall turned out to be more terrible than the others with Keira nearly kissing the cold ground as the toe of her boot caught on a shard of rock jutting up from the floor.

She was barely prevented from such a fate by Jak’s quick reflexes, not even deterred by the darkness that surrounded them. Her cry had alerted him to her predicament, and he whirled around to grab her by the arms, his fingers tightening over her biceps to keep her steady.

“Hey guys! I think I found a way out! Sweet sunshine how I missed you!” Daxter called, his enthusiasm about getting out of the place quite apparent as he pushed with all his might to move a loose rock from a sliver of light peeking through.

Keira looked up only to feel heat increasing upon her cheeks. Above her, Jak stood flanked by sudden sunshine, the glow surrounding him like a halo and highlighting all of his features handsomely.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Keira nodded as he helped her to her feet, noticing in the process that she had received a cut on her leg between the top of her boot and the hem of her pants. He knelt and stripped his forearm of its wrapping, slipping it around the wound and tucking the end on the inside once he had gotten it tight enough.

“There,” he said, dusting off his hands as he stood. “That should hold until we get back but you should get that checked out when we get back so it doesn’t get infected,”

Keira nodded. “Thank you Jak,” she replied warmly, Daxter calling to the pair to hurry up and effectively breaking the tender moment.

None of them thought that they would have missed seeing the sun so much, but they all freely admitted that it was good to feel its warmth and see its light again.

Jak tossed Keira a canteen, the liquid inside sloshing and making her quite aware of her once dormant thirst.

“Thank you,” she said as she took a long swig of water, the coolness easing her parched throat as it went down.

Jak chugged water from a separate canteen, handing it down to Daxter when he started complaining about not getting any.

“Oh yes! Water good, desert bad,”

Jak began to return their gear back to the buggy when Keira desperately grabbed for his arm, his brow raising in alarm at the sudden action.

“You’re bleeding too, Jak,” she said, reaching out as if to touch it but refrained from doing so.

“It’s just a scratch,” He shrugged it off “Besides, it’s already starting to heal. See,” He lifted the limb as if to prove his point and to her utter shock, he had been absolutely correct in his statement. The scratch had already started to scab over, but more startling than that was the fact that his wound showed signs of what looked like green eco healing.

Keira had seen green eco all of her life, but she had yet to see someone who’s injuries healed on their own without assistance from the verdant substance. She would have asked further questions of Jak, but her questions were brought to a screeching halt when the object of her attentions spoke to Daxter.

“Maybe it would be best to just head home instead of trying to continue this tour,”

“If you can call it a tour! More like a brush with death! Come see Spargus! Kingdom of sand, sun and the occasional near death experience!”

Jak chuckled at Daxter’s recollection of the ordeal as he hopped back into the driver’s seat of the buggy.

 “Yeah, but take the long way back,”

Jak shot his friend a questioning look.

“The least we should get out of this heart-attack of an outing is a joyride!” Daxter supplied, hopping back up to his spot on the back of the buggy.

“You got it buddy!” Jak said as he revved the engine to life, his fears slowly drifting away as the sight of the temple melded into the background of heatwaves and sand once more. For now, the nightmare was in his rearview mirror, but Jak wondered if it would stay that way and if it did, for how long.

“What are you doing in here?” Daxter asked his best friend, hopping up on the table that Jak was currently occupying with a significant pile of books. Daxter didn’t expect to wake up after his friend this morning and he had expected even less to find said friend in the royal library of all places.

“I’m trying to figure out what it was that we encountered in the temple yesterday, but I’m coming up completely empty handed,” Jak replied, dropping another book on top of his ever-growing pile with a huff of exasperation.

Daxter coughed and tried to wave the dust cloud that had risen up from Jak’s unceremonious book drop away from his face. "This place could stand a good cleaning. So could you, pal. Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Jak seemed to ignore his furry companion as he scoured yet another two tomes simultaneously, grunting in frustration and pulling at the green roots of his hair to show his displeasure with the lack of information for his current predicament. "You would think that out of all these books, we would have something about creatures with glowing yellow eyes and breath the smell of dying," Daxter picked at his teeth with a nail, pretending that what Jak had to say actually interested him. “Well on that positively lovely thought, I came to tell you that Sig is back from patrol. Thought you might like to know since he might shed some light on our mysterious vistitor,”

“He is? Then why didn’t you say anything? C’mon Dax!” Jak said forgetting about his quest for a moment as he ran out the door and slammed it behind him in the process.

“I thought I did say something,” the ottsel muttered as he followed after the teenager.

Jak jogged down several different halls in search of the man who had been like an uncle in a way to the boy, his blue eyes searching each possible location he could be for a second before moving on to the next one. His search was beginning to show signs of serious fruitlessness, when the sound of a familiar voice forced him to a halt and in turn caused Daxter to plow right into his legs.

"Hey! Don't stop in the runway!" the ottsel cried out offendedly, crossing his arms to show his displeasure.

Jak batted Daxter away and instead turned his attention to the burly man in a hallway talking with one of the younger mechanics. His grin swelled as he approached him calling out and sending a small wave in his direction.

“Hey Cherry,” Sig said, ruffling Jak’s hair and causing the boy to chuckle at the affectionate gesture. The mechanic - Heath - waved to the warrior and mentioned something about taking a look at his thrusters, realizing quickly that he wasn’t needed anymore at the moment.

“Hey Sig. How was patrol?” Jak asked as he attempted to tame his hair back to its original state but to little avail.

“Dull as dishwater,” he said, leaning against his Peacemaker casually. “How ‘bout you two? Anything interestin’ round here?”

Before Jak could get a word out, Daxter had hopped on his shoulder so he was closer to Sig’s eye level and started relaying myriads of information in rapid succession. “Didja hear ‘bout the Metal Head sighting? Didja?” Daxter asked enthusiastically, his excitement almost throwing Jak off balance with all his hopping around.

“Yeah, I heard. If that disgusting creature even looks in my direction, I’ll blast its head off,” as if to prove his point, he raised his Peacemaker right at Daxter who raised his hands in surrender.

"Watch where you point that thing Mr. Tin Can!" Daxter replied as he pushed the barrel away with a finger.

“What do Metal Heads look like?” Jak asked curiously. “I mean, the last Metal Head to be seen out here was destroyed before I was born,”

Sig shook his head and let out a groan of disgust.

“You don’t wanna know, Jak,” he replied sternly.

He knew the situation was direr than anyone would truly admit in that one moment. Sig rarely ever referred to Jak by his given name, preferring to use nicknames for the boy for as long as he could remember. He wanted to question him further but held his tongue instead, something that Daxter apparently hadn't caught on to.

Daxter started to protest, but Sig froze him with a stern glare, his demeanor unyielding. Daxter shut his mouth before Sig got any ideas of shutting it for him.

“Enough about my patrol. I wanna hear about you two. Staying out of trouble?”

“Never!” Daxter butted in before Jak could reply with a more truthful answer.

Sig let loose a boisterous laugh, clapping Jak on the shoulder and knocking him forward with the power behind it. “You two sure make life less boring!”

"Have you met the new Sage yet? I haven't spent much time with him myself, but his abilities to harness Green Eco are fascinating," Jak asked, the warrior adopting his relaxed position atop his weapon yet again and shaking his head in reply. "I was wondering what kind of potential the harnessing of Green Eco could provide for Spargus. Not even simply Green Eco either, but Blue, red, even yellow! And perhaps in the future, there might even be a chance to reverse the effects of the Dark Eco on Daxter,"

"That's a little above my pay grade there, Cherry; but I have no doubt you're gonna' give that Sage a run for his money what with all your ideas!" He ruffled Jak's hair again which elicited another bout of laughter from the boy as he batted Sig's gigantic hands away.

"Stop it Sig! I'm not six anymore ya know!" he chuckled as he worked his hands through the locks once more.

"Never change, Jak," Sig said in a more serious tone, placing the same hand that he had just played with the boy's hair atop his shoulder.

The two shared an amiable smile, one that spoke volumes of a relationship that had been built over a stint of almost sixteen extensive years.

Their conversation was interrupted as one of Sig’s subordinates came into view yelling something that neither Sig nor Jak could quite make out.

“Looks like there’s no rest for the weary. You two stay outta trouble, ya hear me?” Sig asked as he ruffled Jak’s hair once more for good measure, his heavy boots pounding with his strong strides as he left.

"I can't make any promises!" Jak called, cupping his hand around his lips so the sound would travel further.

Sig's mountainous laughter could be heard for a significant time after he had taken his leave of them in the hallway. Jak's warm smile faded once he thought back to how the bulky warrior had reacted when the teenager had broached the subject of Metal Heads, knowing that Sig had seen his fair share of battles with the monsters but unaware until now just how much those instances took a toll on his friend and childhood protector.

“Why didn’t you tell him about that critter we saw at the temple yesterday?” Daxter asked once Sig was completely out of sight.

Jak shook his head. “Did you see how defensive he got when I brought up the Metal Head? I can’t bring this up to him," Jak's gaze was drawn down the hallway Sig had passed through only moments before with an expression of steely resolve. It almost unnerved Daxter "I've made up my mind Dax," Jak said, opening his hand before he clenched his fingers into a tight fist, the muscles of his forearm flexing with the gesture. The ottsel looked at his friend with apprehension in his blue eyes. "If I want to find out anything about what we stumbled across yesterday, I’m gonna have to get the answers myself,”