Chapter IV

My memories are silent films
playing in my mind.
And the distance stretched between us
is one hell of a ride.
Oh but the light is slowly fading,
windows breathe the cold.
I'd close the shades but I'm afraid
of whats inside my soul.

~Chamberlin, Turn Around

Time passed in waves for him - he was never quite sure when he was awake or when he was dreaming.

Voices- loud voices, quiet voices, strange voices -seemed to form and meld inside his mind. There were many of them, that much he was certain, and he had trouble distinguishing them apart. However there was one that seemed to shock him with a sense familiarity down to his very core, but he didn't think it was Daxter's slight drawl. No, it was far too low, much too raspy to be his friend's.

So who was it then?

Sometimes he would find himself swimming through a stream of consciousness and he would be hyper aware in spite of how exhausted he was; his tired, bleary eyes would try to soak in every detail around him. Water. Arched ceilings. A throne. This wouldn't last for long, though, because whatever medicine was being administered to him would kick in soon thereafter, he would start nodding off, back to his restless sleep which—oddly enough—contained none of his usual nightmares.

He felt so much lighter here.

Often, he recognized the feeling of needles poking through his skin, and he panicked, his body going numb with fear—not again, oh, Mar, please not again. But the prick of the instrument never lasted for long and he found himself floating, floating through visions of blurred shapes, of colors, of people and places, and of a single pair of dark, determined blue eyes that were strikingly similar to his own.

Who are you?

It was the sound of Daxter's voice and constant nudging that finally woke him from his doze. "Jak. Hey Jak. Jakky boy, wakey wakey!"

With a disgruntled growl Jak swatted the ottsel's paw away, and in one fluid motion rolled back over on his cot in the hope of catching some more sleep before whoever found them returned. "Go'way Dax."

The orange rodent merely let out a huff of frustration and placed his hands on his hips; narrowing his eyes he spoke once more.

"C'mon now Big Guy!" Snort. "Don'tcha wanna see where we are?" Grunt. "Or who we're with?" Grumble. "Or look at your new haircut?" Daxter grinned as his friend suddenly bolted upwards, hands moving to his now cropped 'do.

"...the hell?" Jak mumbled, fingers tugging absentmindedly on the short strands of blonde and green. Looking down at himself, he noticed the torn fabric of his tunic, which was now sleeveless. Blinking away the remaining weariness, he scowled mainly at Daxter's crooked smirk, but to himself as well.

The youth wasn't particularly fond of the new haircut and the fact someone had been messing with his clothes, but he was still alive, and that was all that mattered. The train of thought continued, and he grudgingly he realized his and Daxter's lives were in debt to their saviors, whoever they were. He turned to see Daxter holding back a snicker, and childishly stuck out his tongue. "Shuddup."

"Didn't say anything," Dax retorted, jumping into the small, pool of water before Jak could grab him. Shaking his head, Jak rolled his eyes and moved to stretch on a rock on the water's edge. His vertebrae creaked with each movement, and he winced in pain. The cot seemed to have done more damage than good.

"Ahhhh, I love the water," Daxter announced, reappearing from under the surface. "Oh yes, it's good. Water good, desert bad."

"Well you've come back from the dead, have you?" A deep voice boomed from behind the duo.

Startled, Jak whirled around on instincts to find the source. Standing by the throne was a man, with thick locks of hair seemingly bleached by the sun. The fabric of his clothes were thick, and rough, worn down by what Jak assumed was life in the desert. He had a stubborn set to his jaw and dark, steely blue eyes that never left Jak's own.

The eyes from before, the youth noted, as he mentally reprimanded himself for not noticing the man earlier. He forced himself to sit up straighter, wincing a little as the worn fabric of his shirt rubbed against his burnt skin. Show no weakness, show no weakness...

"And my monks were ready to pray for you," the man proclaimed, a smirk growing on his lips. He seemed to bring himself to his impressive full height as he moved down the steps, and spoke in his rumbling voice once more. "I am Damas." Jak felt his stomach clench at the name; he wasn't sure why. "King of Spargus."

"Spargus?" the youth found himself blurting out simultaneously with Daxter. He ignored the curious glance the king swept between himself and his friend; he'd learn soon enough the two couldn't help but finish each others' sentences. Granted they would be alive that long. "But nobody lives outside Haven's wall."

"Yeah!" Daxter exclaimed, dragging himself out of the water and at Jak's feet. "Not a whole city!"

But Damas merely let another smile flit across his face- this one more intimidating than the last -and continued. "Ahhh yes. We are the forgotten ones. Haven City's refuse, thrown out and left to die." He turned his gaze knowingly on Jak, who bristled on instinct. "Just as you were. But now that you have been saved..." The king paused for dramatic effect.

Jak's gut told him he wasn't going to like what was coming next. Beside him Daxter obliviously wrung out his tail.

"Your life belongs to the people of Spargus," Damas finished. Jak felt his eyes narrow, and the pull in his gut getting stronger as dark eco flooded his veins. Daxter immediately ceased wringing out his tail and stared incredibly at the king, mouth moving soundlessly. "And we intend to use it well. If it's actually worth anything," Damas scoffed bitterly.

"Hey!" Daxter finally exclaimed, pointing angrily at the man. Jak fought the dark substance stinging through his blood as Daxter continued. "That sounds like a bad deal!" he emphasized, flinging his arms to the side.

The king countered back, his form tall and bold and in charge. "You are in no position to deal! Out here-" he gestured behind him to the large, arched windows. "Everything is either useful, or dead weight." Daxter swore bitterly under his breath, but Damas payed no mind. "Prove yourselves worthy, or the desert will be your grave."

Standing up, Jak threw himself into a stronger stance, head spinning as blood rushed to from his head. He payed the fatigue no mind. "You need to work on making a better first impression," he bit out, clenching his fists in anger. He felt Daxter crawl up along his arm until he perched on his shoulder, warm fur brushing against his cheek. He took a deep breath. Let it out.

But Damas merely laughed and continued speaking as though he hadn't heard the youth at all. "In the unforgiving Wasteland, we value strength and survival above all." Disregarding the two with narrowed eyes, he spoke once more."We will see where you stand soon enough. You must enter the arena. Only the bravest crawl out and are allowed to stay." He barked orders to someone behind the two renegades. "René, Alain. Take these two to the arena."

"Woah woah, hold it Mr. Sand King!" Daxter shouted as he and Jak were led away by two intimidating Wastelanders. "Uh, what happens to the ones who don't crawl out?"

Damas bared his teeth in an almost feral grin. "Then it will be as though we never found you."

The ottsel gulped, tugging on the back of Jak's scarf nervously. "I was afraid of that."

The hallway to the arena was dark and winding, scarily similar to the Baron's palace. On either sides of Jak walked the Wastelanders that had taken them from the king's quarters- one a woman, tall with amethyst hair, the other a man, shorter and with broader shoulders. The only sound emitting from the group are the faint echo of footsteps.

Jak winced as their march became one, monotonous noise, reminding him of soldiers in red armor and long hallways with bolted doors that were impossible to forget, especially when the people he was being escorted by had dark, bold tattoos displayed across their face, and-

Without warning, Daxter poked him in the temple and he swiveled his head to look at the ottsel's steady gaze. "You okay Big Guy?"

Jak nodded, allowing himself to force a smirk in Daxter's direction as they were led out into the arena itself. The smirk however, melted off his face as he took in the crowd, the sheer magnitude of Spargus as a whole, loud and cheering for the bloodshed to begin.

"Holy yakkows," Dax mumbled under his breath. "This really is a whole city, isn't it?"

Suddenly a voice- strangely familiar -rang out of the speakers, above the raving people. "Hail all citizens of Spargus! Welcome to the arena of death-"

"Wait a second!" the ottsel exclaimed, looking at Jak. "Do you hear that?" The youth shrugged, focusing instead on the tasks ahead. The ottsel groaned in frustration. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

The announcer continued. "-where we get to watch other people wet themselves in fear! These halls will once again test two newcomers, each fighting to prove their worth to stay among us."

The platform the two youths were standing on top of abruptly shifted, and they began to rise. Daxter clung tightly onto Jak's scarf, still mumbling to himself. "-has to be some sort of sick joke, had hoped he'd died or somethin'!" Jak looked at him curiously but not for long, as they reached their destination. It was time.

Sitting regally in his own private booth was Lord Damas, that feral grin still etched on his features from before. On the side of his throne perched Pecker, still speaking into the microphone." Now let's hear it for Jak and his obnoxious talking animal!"

"Pecker!" Jak exclaimed, ignoring Daxter's growl. "There you are!"

"Yeah, there you are, you bastard!" the ottsel exclaimed, shaking a fist. "Where the hell were ya?"

The moncaw ruffled his feathers indignantly, and smirked. "Damas says, I am to be his new counsellor. He says my wisdom," at that Daxter scoffed, "will serve him well. Oh yeah and um... Damas also says that, RAAAAWK... you two are likely to die in the arena today."

The two exiles traded nervous glances, but Pecker paid no mind.

"And he hopes your death is very ahh..."

"Will you stop that?" Daxter interrupted angrily. He ignored Jak's warning glare. "Damas can speak for himself!"

The king seemed to straighten at that, and his eyes took on a darker glint as he formed his words slowly, and carefully. "He is right. You are most likely to die."

"Lovely," the ottsel muttered, tugging absentmindedly on Jak's goggles, who fixed him with an annoyed glance. "If we die Jak, I'm going to kill you."

Damas kept talking as though Daxter hadn't spoken at all. "And yes, Pecker is my new adviser."

"RAAAAWK! Unlike you, some people appreciate my talents," the moncaw said smugly to the duo. "By the way," he continued, now addressing only Daxter. "I saw a few of the fights earlier. Oooo... not a pretty sight. "

Snarling, the ottsel reached towards the exotic bird. "Why you little-"

"Let the games begin!" Pecker quickly shouted into the microphone. The rest of what Daxter had to say was cut off by more screams and cheers from the arena. Jak jumped in surprise as once more the platform began to move. He looked up to see Damas peering at him as one would a specimen. Bitterly, he felt his eyes narrow.

"A'right then Jakky boy," the ottsel said at last, allowing a grin to cross his face. With a snicker he cracked his furry knuckles menacingly, and Jak couldn't help but forget about Damas and grin back. "Now let's show these schmucks what the Demolition Duo is made of!"

When the bell rang Jak broke off in a sprint, Daxter clinging loyally to his shoulder just as he always had.

Keeping his eyes trained on Jak's blue clad form, Damas slowly asked Pecker, "What is Haven like now?" To preserve his pride, the sand king pretended to be interested in a non existent stain on his tunic, as the moncaw dutifully answered.

"RAAAWK! It is quite different then when you were there m'Lord." Ruffling his feathers, he continued. "Some days I feel they are hopeless, that they can barely stop fighting themselves let alone the enemies." His eyes were dark, much more sad than Damas had ever seen in the bird. However he looked up. "But then people like Jak come along, and you realize that maybe not all hope is lost."

Damas nodded, pushing away the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that seemed to appear whenever Jak was mentioned. However he could not help but continue to watch the youth navigate the obstacles with an unsettling ease. "I see. And how is Onin?"

Pecker considerably perked up at the mention of his seer. "Oh, very well Lord Damas - although she believes you to be dead. You- RAAAWK! -dropped from sight not long after Praxis dropped you here. She'll be pleased to know that-"

"No," Damas stated suddenly, swiveling around to look at the moncaw. "She must not know."

"But m'lord-"

"I said no Pecker," Damas repeated, more sharply than before, dark eyes flashing. The moncaw visibly wilted but nodded nevertheless. The king sighed and faced towards the arena once more. Yet his voice softened with his next words. "Besides, it is not as though I could return. Spargus," he glanced around the stadium, corners of his lips turning upward. "My people need me Pecker. I cannot abandon them."

The moncaw flapped his wings and fluttered over to perch on the king's shoulder. "I understand Lord Damas. Forgive me. It is just that you are a- RAAAWK! -rather familiar face for sore eyes."

"I know Pecker," Damas replied, almost wistfully, turning his gaze down to the mysterious youth and ottsel. "I know."

"Jump! Jump! Jump!" Daxter exclaimed, pulling on the collar of Jak's tunic. "For the love of Mar! Would ya mind watching where you're goin' Jak?"

Looking up for a moment to fix the ottsel with a glare, Jak suddenly cried out when Daxter gripped his ear and tugged, hard. "JAAAAAK! IF WE GO OVER THE EDGE I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"Maybe if you stop tugging on my ear, I won't go over the edge Dax," Jak retorted, rubbing his ear delicately. Precursors.

Turning to face the gap he now faced, Jak took a deep breath, and leaped. Wind blew past his face and he barked out a sharp laugh. It felt like he was flying, nothing between him and the lava floor but air. Then his feet hit solid ground and he rolled to soften the landing.

"Made it," he murmured. "Only one more." But that didn't stop Daxter from shrieking at him to watch where he was going once again.

"The candidates have won the challenge!" Pecker exclaimed after the duo had arrived back. Jak allowed himself a small smirk at the evident distaste on Damas' face, and looked to Daxter.

"That's right!" the ottsel cried, puffing out his chest. He tugged absentmindedly on Jak's ear, and continued. "You haven't forgotten what I taught you Jak!"

"Anyone can make a few measly jumps," Damas retorted. Reaching down for something at his feet, he continued. "Now let's see how you rate against the living!"

Jak stretched his arms out just in time, as the king tossed him a small, but sturdy morph gun. The weapon was not unlike Jak's gun in Haven. Seemed easy enough to control. He grinned.

Now addressing the Wastelanders down in the stadium, Damas shouted once more. "Readjust the Matter-Formers. Prepare the arena for full combat!"

"Hold it!" Daxter barged in, hands on his hips. "You mean we have to fight against actual people? With actual weapons? Who actually," he paused to gulp, "want to hurt us?"

"Fine!" Jak replied, ignoring the furious look the ottsel was giving him. He could feel the dark eco practically crackling in his fingertips. It had been too long since he'd let off some steam. "Bring 'em on!"

"Alright, THAT'S IT!" Daxter shrieked, pointing towards Damas. "I wanna be on his shoulder!"

Pecker allowed his beak to stretch into a grin, despite his nervousness at watching Jak go up against bloodthirsty marauders. He had promised Onin he wouldn't let anything happen to the hero, but somehow he knew the marauders wouldn't stand a chance. Nevertheless, he turned his grin to Damas. "You know, this place seems to suit you. It's a very dry, gritty place, if you don't mind my saying m'lord."

Playfully, Damas cuffed the moncaw upside the head. "Watch it. Or would you rather be down there with Jak, hmm?" At the sound of the renegade's name, Pecker's face blanched, as his feet shifted uncomfortably. Damas peered at him curiously, a sense of unease growing in his stomach. "Pecker?"

"Ahah yes," the moncaw mumbled. "Speaking about Jak, there is something you must know."

Damas fixed his gaze on the youth, confused with Pecker's strange reaction. Jak was not normal, Damas could tell that much. But of what significance was this mere seventeen year child? Surely, he couldn't be that important. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to then another outcast. Then suddenly, the boy dropped his gun at his feet.

Dropped his gun.

On purpose.

"What is he doing?" The king leaned forward, trying to get a better view at what in Mar's name- his stomach pricked painfully -was going on.

"Oh no- RAAAWWK! -this is not good, this is so not good, I had hoped to tell you-"

"What are you blabbering on about?" Damas quickly interjected the moncaw with a glare, allowing himself to glance away from the arena if only for a moment. "Pecker?"

Pecker moved frantically in front of the man's face, trying to block his view. "M'lord, why don't we go, I don't know- RAAAWWK! -and maybe we could-"

"Pecker!" Damas practically snarled. Now standing to look past the red and blue feathers, he watched as the marauders surrounded Jak, who did nothing but stand still, on all sides. "What is going on here? Why isn't he—"

And suddenly Jak was exploding, in a stream of dark purple lightning.

"He can channel eco."

A statement, not a question. Pecker grimaced nervously but did not reply.

"You have some explaining to do."

The transformation was the easiest part, as his body goes slack with pain, as the eco runs through his veins. It's easy, even as sharp, pointed horns slice through the skin of his temple, and fingernails curve into dagger like claws. Jak knew when it was coming, knew what it entailed.

It was the afterwards that kept him up and screaming at night.

He sunk his claws into the flesh of one marauder, relishing in the feeling of the edges of its bones as he went clean through the skin. Blood poured for the wound and he grinned crookedly at the way the masked creature screamed in agony.

There were more of the other creatures, and he could feel them surrounding him, their heartbeats loud and erratic, blood flowing strongly through them. Sinking his teeth into the neck of one, he slashed at the stomach of another. Their blood filled his mouth and he drank - it had been far too long since he had been able to do this.

It was continuous. They kept coming and he kept killing.

Then there were no more, and he felt his power slipping, felt the darkness recede from the corner of his mind. Felt himself to return to normal, as Daxter patted his head comfortingly... or as normal as he could ever be.

Groaning, Jak stepped onto the platform, using up the remainder of his energy to stay standing. His stomach was churning, dark eco itching beneath his skin. He was dimly aware of Daxter wiping blood off of the side of his face and he grunted his thanks. He didn't have to look to know the ottsel was staring worriedly at him.

"M'fine," Jak managed to mutter over the loud cheering of the crowd.

Daxter shook his head, scowling. "Why didn't you tell me it was getting worse?" The ottsel's voice contained none of his usual lightness, and for once Jak wished his friend was joking around.

"I said I'm fine Daxter," the youth retorted, louder and sharper than before. More eco crackled from his fingertips and Daxter cringed, but did not shy away. Trying to ignore the guilt and dark eco tearing apart his insides, Jak dropped his head in his bloodstained hands and took a shaky, steadying breath. Pain spiked at his temples and he looked up, his strength almost leaving him completely.

Gasping out in shock and recoiling from the form of what he assumed was one of Spargus' monk, Jak couldn't help but stare at the simply murderous expression the other was wearing. Squinting, he tried to get a closer look at the painted white face, and dark scarlet eyes but he- or she -was gone.

He was about to turn to Dax to ask him if he had seen the monk as well, but the platform came to an abrupt stop and he stumbled. Daxter tapped him on the shoulder and slowly, reluctantly he turned his weary gaze to the king, expecting horror, anger, disgust... But the only expression Damas wore was confusion and maybe even mild curiosity.

The king was staring, but not in the way Jak was used to, and he had little trouble meeting the dark blue gaze straight on.

Pecker cleared his throat awkwardly, and was about to speak but Damas cut him off, stormy eyes never leaving Jak's. "Something you're not telling us, animal man?"

And this was it, Jak realized. As Daxter's fur stood on end and he growled under his breath, Jak had already accepted their- his -fate. Damas had no use for a monster, a freak. He was a liability, and naturally it would be better for Spargus if he was not a part of it at all. He was about to open his mouth to reply but Pecker quickly interrupted, eyes pleading him not to say a word.

"He has been touched with dark eco, my liege," the moncaw answered, wings fluttering around in ways reminiscent of his master, Onin.

"Yeah," Daxter interjected testily. "Our boy here gets all mean and nasty if ya piss him off." He leaned almost territorially over Jak, small eyes narrowed into slits. "So don't piss him off." The ottsel wagged his finger for emphasis. "Word to the wise."

Jak met the king's gaze once more, and was surprised to see that although the confusion and curiosity had melted away, they had been replaced by interest. Not disgust. Hope swelled in his chest as Damas spoke softly but determinedly.

"Ah... So he is dangerous? And that could be useful."

Daxter's fur began to settle as his pose grew less rigid and Jak found the corner of his lip twitching, slowly but surely. He allowed the smile- however small -to flit across his face, if only for a moment.

"Your bravery," Damas continued. "Has earned you your first battle amulet." He gestured down to the circular, precursor-like artifact that reminded Jak of the beacon Ashelin had given him before his banishment. He limped his way over to the table, and ran his fingers over the cool, worn metal. "If you are victorious in two more arena fights, you will earn your citizenship to Spargus."

Carefully setting the amulet back to the table, Jak looked up just in time to see Damas throw another, small artifact towards him. "Here is a gate pass to allow free passage in and out of the city. But beware," the king's tone took on a harder edge and Jak turned his gaze back. A voice like that deserved only the utmost respect. "There is no true refuge outside his walls." The words were dark, foreboding. The youth knew he would try to adhere as best as he could.

"The desert is much less kind than I. And for your victory," Damas concluded, a smile of his own on his lips, "a gun mod is your prize."

"Oh yeah!" Daxter interrupted, jumping up and down in anticipation as Jak picked up the thick hunk of metal. "Now we're talking." But the rest of the ottsel's words were lost on Jak as he turned to look once more at where the mysterious monk had stood. The renegade's eyes narrowed as a dark, heavy force settled in his stomach, and hung over his very being like a cloud.

Oh mah goodness, it's done. After being written, accidentally deleted, rewritten, edited, and slaved over, it's done. Not to mention I have absolutely no talent when it comes to writing fight sequences... So bear with me. Not to mention how difficult it is in terms of writing dialogue. As much of a silent hero we think Jak is, he talks quite a bit in the games, and I have to decide what he gets to say and how much, compared to Daxter who never stops talking.

Like ever. Ahaha.

But as usual, I must give thanks to my amazing and beautiful beta-reader, FishyIcon. Thanks hon, for putting up with my procrastination, stubbornness, and lack of proper grammar. (P.S. Fishy, I googled the meaning of the name René and it means independent, or warrior. So it's staying for sure :D)

Read and review please! As always (:

~LeiaOrganicsolo