Author's note: Well, finally! Love ya'll, and now I'll stop torturing you with this one. Tata!

Epilogue

"… father…"

"Close, but no."

Something soft and pleasantly cool patted its way across his forehead and down to his cheek. Jak groaned, prying one eye open. It took him a while to make out anything in the warm dusk, but finally his vision grew used to the offered light. Thin beams of sunlight broke through the blinds of the windows a couple of yards away, but overall the leather curtains managed to keep the room mercifully safe from the most intense radiance.

The dampness continued to nurse his hot face.

He slowly blinked a few times, finally managing to take in the silhouette beside him. It did not help at first, not before his eyes adjusted enough to make out details in the poor illumination.

"I'm glad you're awake, Mar."

With a sigh Elda leant back for a moment, lifting the hand holding her current tool. A bowl of water stood on the table beside her, and she lowered the damp cloth into it. The trickle of drops falling into the water's surface was the only sound for a while, as she wrung most of the liquid back out.

"You've been out of it for a while," she said, leaning back to press the cloth to his forehead again, "how do you feel?"

"Mmf."

Elda nodded to herself. The silence stretched out as she gently kept stroking Jak's face with the cloth, but neither felt bothered about the lack of words. There were more important things to focus on.

A warm breeze from outside caused the curtains to lazily wave, for a few moments making the room clearer. It was quite big, but sparsely decorated. Jak idly took note of a couple of chairs, a table and a shelf full of scrolls, before the curtains fell back and his disturbed dark vision returned to obscurity for a couple of minutes.

Seconds slipped by at their own pace.

It took a while before Jak even started to hear the squeaking breathing – the lapse of time due to his exhaust and the familiarity of the sound. It seemed like Daxter was asleep somewhere nearby, not too far from Jak's head. Probably curled up on another pillow…

The affirmation of his friend's closeness almost managed to make the tired warrior smile. Good ol' Daxter. Where would a hero be without his blabbering sidekick…

Wait, why was he here at all?

He felt weak and exhausted, but above that, he felt clean. Every puff of humid wind across the half of his body not covered by the thin blanket, every stroke of Elda's cloth were felt so softly that in compare he could have believed that his skin used to be made of leather. The usually tense muscles in his neck and back laid relaxed and even his breathing felt gentler than before, air caressing his throat like silk.

Something was gone.

Bit by bit the memories begun to seep back into his mind. He studied them with a sense of calm that surprised him, thoughtfully turning the scenes over inside his head. Again his whole body recalled those burning moments when the eco twisted and warped him, when the explosions from his friends' weapons burnt and killed him.

But he did not even wince, even as he replayed the memories over and over. They felt far away, so far away that they had stopped hurting.

Maybe he was just too exhausted to feel properly shocked.

Experimentally, he dug deeper into his mind and dove into hours of agony and horror, Praxis' face hovering above him with a furious snarl, Erol smirking, lonely nights curled up in a cell dreaming of things long gone.

Nothing. He knew it all had happened, but all those things he had not dared touching before, knowing that the pain could drive him insane… they were simply there, nothing else. They could do nothing.

He closed his eyes.

Damas' dead body, father is dead and he never knew… I never knew…

No rush of rage, no darkness filling his mind – only sadness. Calm, normal sadness that allowed mourning instead of denial, mourning that in turn would allow the pain to pass.

"My hearing is quite good, kid. Even when I'm about to die."

His lips curled slightly in relief.

'It wasn't my fault,' slipped through his mind.

No, it had never been, now had it? He knew that, now.

Elda lifted the cloth from his face to refresh the water again. As she returned to her work she let out a soft sigh.

"You just keep bringing the strangest tales," she said.

Jak opened his eyes and watched her silhouette in the dusk.

"Though I never thought the day would come when Kleiver told ghost stories," she added, mirthless smile apparent in her voice.

"… sorry."

"For what?"

Despite everything a tired smile crept onto Jak's lips at the familiar exchange. Elda turned her hand over, pressing the back of it instead of the cloth against his cheek.

"I'll just try to suspend disbelief and be happy that you're alright."

Jak tried to shift, finding that his body weighed a ton. Letting out a sigh he stopped trying and accepted his fate – for now. He simply did not have the energy right then.

"I… don't know what happened," he muttered.

Another sigh, deep breath flowing out of Elda's mouth as she sat back, hands resting on her lap.

"Wish I could have seen him, but it cannot be helped. I think I'd rather have passed on the rest though."

Jak pursed his lips, trying to think of something to say. The silence lingered until Elda bent forwards again, placing a cool hand on his forehead as her voice dropped to a soothing murmur.

"I know, Mar, they told me. Let's just try not to think about it for now."

"… thanks."

"You're welcome."

His lips stretched a little too as he heard the wry smile in her voice. There was a soft sound as she dropped the piece of cloth beside the bowl of water, and her hand moved. Carefully her arms snaked beneath his shoulders and neck as she bent over him, lifting his heavy body slightly against her own. Jak would have returned the hug if he could have moved his arms, but Elda soon straightened up and let go.

"Your friends from Haven are on their way," she said, "they should be here in an hour or so."

Jak frowned.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"Yes. Though…"

She placed her chin in her unhurt hand.

"… Sig mumbled something about death sentences and the man with the dreadlocks said he wasn't going to interfere if his men wanted to get alcohol poisoning."

A small chuckle managed to make its way through Jak's exhaust. While there were no memories of it since he had been unconscious, there was a full realization. Sig would pay. Nothing personal.

But the laugh stirred something. A thin yawn, smacking of fuzzy lips and-

"Jak!"

One ottsel latched onto neck.

"Oh man don't you ever do something like that again it was the freakiest thing I've ever seen and that's saying something sheez seriously but you're okay now right? Really okay? 'Cause you've been asleep for ages and we started to think you'd never wake up-"

"Dax… can't… breathe…!"

"Uhm… oops."

The stranglehold eased up and the fuzzy weight settled just beneath Jak's collarbones. He raised an eyebrow at the thin silhouette while Elda chuckled in the background.

"Why are you freaking out now?" the blonde asked.

Daxter waved a paw in the air, a dismissive move.

"Post traumatic tranquility back there, babe," he said, "now I'm calm."

A tiny, furry finger jabbed at Jak's chin.

"And if you ever pull that kind'a crap again I'll kick your ass!"

Smirking in the dusk, Jak tried moving his hands. The fingers slipped against each other, skin as soft as the summer breeze.

"… don't think I could," he murmured.

"I bloody well hope so!" Daxter said.

"Hm."

Jak turned his head, finding that he still could not move very much. But it was coming back, little by little. He could feel that, among other things.

A confused memory swirled around in his head, of the darkness slouching around him and only dragging him further down the more he struggled – but there was a speck of light, that he reached for desperately and held on to. But it was frail, so weak that even though it struggled it could not pull him out. Yet he would not let go and it kept fighting, until it knew it held a small part of him – he sunk into darkness, but the light pulled something tiny, a seed, into the cold glow of the skull gem. It could only save so much, the rest was swallowed by the dark eco.

A frightening concept, and it was unpleasant. But just as the other memories, it could not do anything more than that. There was something important about that desperate escape.

Elda's long ears visibly perked up at the first word, as unused to hearing it as he was to saying it.

"Mother, could you call Seem to check on me?" Jak said.

"Right away."

She bent down and picked up her staff from the floor, supporting herself on it as she stood. The dull clack of wood against stone accompanied her unsteady steps across the room, and a door soon opened. The flickering light of torches cascaded into the room and set Elda's worn figure aglow as she exchanged a few quick words with the tall wastelander standing guard outside. A nod from him, and his boots echoed against the floor of the corridor as he headed off to find the high monk.

With vague interest Jak ran his gaze across the room in the new light, not finding anything new but trying to figure out just where they were. Obviously in Spargus, but the room was far bigger than the simple homes the wastelanders normally used. Far too much furniture, while it really was nothing in Haven standards. A suspicion began to grow.

"This place is…?" he started.

The rest of the sentence hung in the air while Elda closed the door.

"Uhm…" Daxter started, a nervous chuckle lodged in his throat.

Elda staggered back towards her chair.

"Damas' room," she said.

She sat down, laying the staff onto the floor with a dull clatter. Straightening up she looked at Jak's shadowed form on the bed, mirthless smile invisible on her split lips.

"Does that disturb you?" she asked.

A brief pause before Jak slowly shook his head.

"No…"

He just did not have the nerve. Maybe later.

"Good..." Elda murmured.

"You should'a just heard 'em when we got back," Daxter started up, "Torn got a hover sent up the volcano so he and Sig could bring you here quickly. Ya could almost think Sir Dread-a-lock was worried or something."

Jak snorted, grinning in the dusk.

"He knew we'd paint the desert with him and his men if you didn't make it back," Elda said.

She chuckled slightly and reached backwards. Glass clattered against stone.

"Do you want some water?" she asked.

Jak felt a small stitch of unease when he still could not sit up without support, Elda having to wrap an arm around his shoulders to steady him while she pressed a glass to his lips. But he could push the thoughts away, something that felt only mildly surprising. After a few gulps he finally managed to raise his hand and hold the glass himself, though Elda kept her grip close enough to make sure that he would not drop it.

A knock on the door made all three of them look up. The wood moved only so much that the opening would allow passage, and a short figure stepped inside on silent feet. For a moment the torchlight flitted over the orange plate armor and the white, painted face before a small hand pushed the door closed and returned the cool dusk.

"I am relieved to see you alive and well, hero."

The last word no longer held the sarcasm it once had.

"Hey, Seem," Jak murmured as he lowered the glass.

Elda took it from his grip and put it back on the bed table without a word. As the blonde laid down again, Daxter leant in and announced in a far too loud whisper just by Jak's ear:

"Hate to tell ya buddy, but Sig said miss Weirdo gave him the light eco he threw at ya back there."

He spoke it with no less mocking than usual, but there was no mistaking the gratefulness in the ottsel's voice.

"Figures."

Jak smiled a little, looking at the shadow of Seem.

"I'll pay you back when I can walk," he said, "but right now I'd like to make sure of something."

The monk stepped forwards, coming up beside Elda without a word. She never seemed to even wonder what Jak meant, silently reaching out into the empty air above the bed.

Seem's fingers bent and straightened, forming her hand into peculiar positions. Finally her pointing and middle finger stretched up alone, the others held down in a loose clench. She pressed the side of her hand against her face while her soft voice floated into the dusky air.

"You have guessed well," she murmured.

The brief pause could not be allowed. Daxter's paws came down on Jak's shoulder and he leant his small head closer, squinting at the shadows of his friend's face.

"What did you do this time?" the ottsel demanded.

Jak chuckled, slowly shaking his head while Seem spoke again.

"The balance is broken. While darkness still remains, the places it once ruled supreme have been conquered by light," she said.

"I think I can live with that," Jak mumbled.

This time even Daxter had to pause before he could speak again.

"So tall, dark and gruesome is… back there?" he asked, waving his arm at the window.

Jak shook his head again, raising a heavy hand to rest on his forehead.

"No, he's still in here," he said, "just smaller."

Before Daxter could speak again, the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the door, a brief exchange of loud voices and the door swung open to let half an army of people hurry inside. Apart from Samos, who still floated in the air before the exasperated guard's face and snarled most viciously at the far bigger man. Elda stood up while Seem backed off.

"Jak!"

Jak's first thought, a moment before Keira almost fell over him and snaked her arms beneath his neck in a fierce hug, was that he had missed all of them.

The second thought was why in the name of everything sacred they had brought Jinx along. In the light of his cigar, the rough criminal grinned like a madman. It was enough to inform Jak that yes, Torn had told them everything.

This… would be irritating.

But as Keira loosened her grip and stroke his cheek, and Daxter started arguing with Pecker while Tess padded up onto the bed to her boyfriend, and Torn stood in the background beside Ashelin while Samos finished putting the guard in place… Jak was just relieved to see them in the light of torches and not the glow of a skull gem. The smiles on their faces were solid.

He was alive.

The end.