Akkey Wakes

== Summary ==
== Full Text ==
Akkey Black: Her body aches, so much that she can barely move. Every motion sends jolts of pain through her limbs, it’s almost unbearable.
She woke suddenly in an unfamiliar room. As slowly as she can, she gets out her bed. She tries to stand, but her knees give way. It hurts, everything hurts so much. Her head throbs, making her dizzy. She falls and throws up on the floor.
Something moves from the corner of her eye. She finally notices the woman standing at the foot of her bed. The woman doesn’t say anything and just stares at her.
Akkey tries to speak, her throat dry. She croaks out, “Who… who are you?”
Hemlock: "You don’t know me?" Her sentence is lifted at the end in an amused question, but somehow, at the same time, it is a flat statement.
Akkey Black: N… no. I don’t… *looks around in confusion* I don’t even know… this place… 
*tries to get up and fails*
Hemlock: "You’re alright," she says in a soft, soothing voice. "You’re in a cabin near the fortress. You’re safe. You don’t have to worry about anything." {{You feel tired. You lie back down.}}
Akkey Black: Fortress…? Oh yes the fortress… *lies down* where the king is… the king! *sits up too quickly and lets out a cry in pain* the king… i must speak with him… *coughs*
Hemlock: "He is resting. He will come when you are fully healed." {{You relax. You are satisfied. You lie down.}}
Akkey Black: when I’m healed… *lies down* how considerate… of his highness.. but… *opens eyes* it really is important… he needs to come… at once…
Hemlock: "I’m sorry, Akkey, but he is resting. I understand that it is of the utmost importance. But you need your rest as well. Please, allow me to pass on the message." {{You can trust Hemlock. The king needs his rest, and so do you. You are so tired. You hurt all over. Giving the message to Hemlock would work out perfectly. You are so tired.}}
Akkey Black: *head throbs, sighs and closes eyes* is… is that so… i suppose you could tell him… he needs to know right away… tell him… the… the stranger…
Hemlock: She nods, and waits patiently. {{Your mind clears for just a moment, just enough to tell her.}}
Akkey Black: *coughs, laboured breathing* the stranger… i know… the… stranger? *opens eyes, stares at the ceiling* a stranger? what was i… saying… *confused, tries to turn to her side, whimpers at the pain* I’m… I’m so thirsty…
Hemlock: "Here. Drink. You’ll be alright." She holds a mug of water up to Akkey’s mouth, and the chief responds mechanically, swallowing until the cup is empty. "The Stranger. You were talking about the Stranger. You know who he is. It is important. You should tell me. I will tell the king. The king needs to know. You should tell me." {{You should tell me.}}
Akkey Black: *coughs again and falls back on the bed* I should tell you… who the Stranger… is… It’s important… tell the King… He… his name is… Pi…
*eyes glaze over and a shadow passes through, getting very dizzy* N-no… I must tell the King… the present is for the King… he said… *whispers* only… the King… *head lolls back, falls unconscious*
Hemlock: Hemlock swears softly and turns away, eyes tracing the horizon through the foggy window. The sun has set, now, and the faintest glow of light just remains in the sky. Many think, she muses, night is the ideal time for shadow magic. But no, for with shadow must come light, to cast it and shape it and make it dance.
Now is the time.
The threads of shadow running through Hemlock’s veins tear through her skin, forming a writhing cloud that circles and circles, faster and faster, until it’s impossible to tell if it is a solid or a liquid or a gas. The vessel’s screams grow louder and louder, blocked only by the soundproof seal around the cabin, until they reach a piercing climax and abruptly cut off.
The shadows blaze with a dark light, swirling faster and even faster, forming themselves into a wedge shape, until, with a muffled snap of air, they enter Akkey’s mind.
THE STRANGER. The voice fills everything, and the chief can’t think, can’t move, can’t stop the burning in her head, can’t stop the tears coursing down her cheeks, can’t stop the pain, and the shadows are tearing through her memories until they suddenly stop. 
And then both Akkey and the vessel collapse.
There is a deafening silence.
The shadows slowly sift back into the gashes in the vessel’s skin, and then they’re healing, leaving not the faintest scar.
Hemlock examines Akkey, her expression completely flat. She touches a hand to the prone figure’s temples and makes a small flicking movement, leaving the chief with no mark, mental or physical.
And no memory whatsoever of the incident.
Akkey Black: "Well, well, well…" Hemlock, just a bit exhausted, sits away from the sleeping chief, "Who would’ve thought… it would be him."
"So you’re alive… Pitch Black."
Hemlock: She nods slowly to herself, staring off into the night. Preparations to make, plans to shove into action, people to…deal with. Oh, it will all take time. So much time, and so many lives.
But I’ll win my place back, she vows to herself. I’ll win my place back in the halls of Valhalla. All the mortals will bow, and all my sisters, too.
She picks up the quill lying by the bed. It is suddenly wet, dark black ink dripping from the nib. A lazy scrawl on her wrist, and a raven flies out of the drawing, alighting on her shoulder. She looks out the window again.
The light is gone now, and all that remains…is pitch black.
Category:Season 1
Category:Events
Category:BOTGD
Category:Akkey Black
Category:Hemlock