I Remember

A/N: There was just so much hope that Damas would be the third person that I had to write up this chapter. Not so much Jak thinking about Damas and his reaction, but an over all thinking about Spargus and its King. I hope you all like. It's done in a different style than the first three, but I feel that it works as a closing chapter for this little story. Thank you again everyone for the loves and reviews! I appreciate it! ^~^

Bonus Chapter

The air was cooling, brushing his skin, and keeping sleep at bay with its feather touch. Overhead the sky was turning from brilliant oranges and reds, to demure purples and pink. Jak lay on his back, his unbooted feet dangling in the water. The beach off Spargus was a favorite place for the warrior. Here he had shown up Kleiver, defended the city from the Dark Makers, and received his armor from Damas.

Closing his eyes, as the sky grew dark, Jak listened to the breaking waves and the children wrapping up their games in the surf. He could imagine their happy faces, the excitement in their eyes as the grim reality that was their world was put on hold for a moment.

If he closed his eyes long enough, and let sleep nearly take him, the sounds almost became that of Sandover Village and Sentinel Beach. He missed the quiet of his old home, the familiar and kind faces. Today though, the ache was far away.

Everything in Spargus spoke of a tough health and vitality. It made him feel alive. It was here that the dark warrior had really found his place. Among the tough, battle-hardened, wasteland tried people, Jak had found a home. The people here hadn't thrown him out when they found out about his taint, rather they had embraced it. Decided he was useful, that's what Damas had said. He was useful.

Jak had been happy to be just useful, it helped him to survive. Then he'd started looking differently at the wasteland king. Damas was someone to look up to, to emulate…to listen to.

Here in Spargus, Jak felt that he could be more than what Haven had condemned him to be. There was a different feel here, and a unique scent. It was the smell of sand, salt, and blood. The same smell had been near when he'd been with his younger self. It was also Damas's scent.

The children in the water, mindful of the sleeping sun, slowly dispersed, heading to their homes for the night with promises to meet again. All was quiet around the hero now, only the sound of the breaking waves reaching his sensitive ears. He could remember clearly here the life he'd had before the rift gate. Everything had seemed more stable then.

Nothing was permanent here. The sands were changing constantly, burying a rock, or unearthing a mountain; even such things as innocence and hope were transitory and prone to disappearing. He'd learned that the hard way. The lives of the people around him, his own life, were far from permanent.

Everything changed. His powers waxed and waned with the eco, the storms came and went. People died.

Picturing Sandover again, Jak sat up, the movement disturbing the fish that had gathered around his toes. The home he had was gone, but all the things he learned back there, and the people who meant the most to him were here in this time, with him, in their new home. He could remember, and smile at the old memories now. Peace and permanence was his to find and make for himself, and for his friends.

Footsteps behind him made Jak turn to watch the person coming to see him. A smile came to his face, lighting up his blue eyes.

"Hey."