Disclaimer: I don't own the Black Magician trilogy.

A/N: I have simply nothing against Akkarin dying (I think that's why I love him so much) other than it was…gah, technically absurd. I ask you: what is the point of those shields if your opponent can control what is behind it? Are the magicians that stupid? (Yes, I'm sort of asking if Akkarin and Sonea are so stupid) a shield is of no use if you can heat the air around your adversary and simply cook him/her. OK, I am just so evil. *sighs* Akkarin, why do you pay so much attention to Warrior skills? You are so rigid. So /noble/. That is your fatal flaw. T.T

But in this fic, sadly another 'I love Akkarin so I'm gonna write more about him' fic, Sonea will realize this ground-breaking flaw in shields. XD

Please read and review, and skip the part in italics if you're squeamish. It's just a nightmare. :D

Epilogue

He was there again.

The yeels were already upon him. Akkarin screamed as the teeth of the animals sank into his flesh, tearing…

Between the screams he could hear Kariko's voice chanting.

"You know what we do to slaves who run away, especially with the assistance of magic? Oh yesss… we send the yeels after them, have the animals tear up their legs when they're worth keeping, or simply eat them up. Well, the latter seems great. Yeeli, Tassk!"

Akkarin could hear the sickening, indescribable sound as another chunk of his flesh was torn out. He heard himself pleading, begging for it to stop. But only jeers, laughter and the red glow in the horizon answered.

He felt a sudden pain in his shoulders and was forced to watch a yeel standing over him. Involuntarily Akkarin tried to move away, but was pinned to ground.

For a moment they stared at each other, the yeel contemplating him and Akkarin whimpering as he realized the true agony had arrived. Then the yeel opened its mouth, already splattered with his blood, and―

Akkarin's own scream wrenched him out of the nightmare. His eyes were open but it was too bright and everything was a whitish blur. Or was it because he was crying? Oh how his legs hurt! For just an instant when he woke up, he'd been convinced that he was fine, that this had never happened… But he was still in this place, where whatever covered him felt so…massive.

His legs throbbed, as did his head. His senses were telling him that many parts of his body stun and ached. Still shaking form the dream, he felt himself being pulled gently into someone's arms. Not bothering to control himself he whimpered and moaned as hands and rougher cloth rubbed against his bruises and old scars, cold against him bare skin.

His left cheek was pressed against the person's chest. He could hear the thumping of his or her heartbeat, also soft words murmured to him, which he could not understand due to his own choked sobs. He felt the soft, smooth quilt folded over his back.

Suddenly an image of that yeel reappeared; its bloody jaws were open wide, coming nearer. Uttering a strangled cry, Akkarin felt his body jerk. Another wave of nausea came over and he thought his lips were moving, babbling nonsense. It hurt to talk, but he could help it.

His name was being called, a hand stroked his hair and patted him ever so gently. The touch was so familiar. The strong arms had held him before many times, he knew. But he couldn't remember when or where…

/

The Ichani Invasion had caused almost no casualties. The Healing Quarters were even quieter than ever. And the man who had made this possible, who had made the Healing Quarters' current existence possible, lay wounded and shattered in a room here.

But without him, would the Invasion have happened, Sonea mused as she climbed the steps up to the third floor, not passing one Healer on the way. Most of them were in the Night Room, most possibly discussing her and Akkarin.

It was like herself. She would be no controversial heroine if she had not thrown the stone, nor happened to be at the place at that time. Fate…

And now Akkarin…

She'd always known that both of them had had a premonition of being hurt by the other or hurting the other. She had hoped they'd both make it out of this alive and well, but she also felt a dread deep down that that would not ― could not ― be so.

Now, with Akkarin in the Healing Quarters, that small whirlpool of emotions, which had once been subdued by other more impending matters, had turned into a great torrent. Worry, gratitude, love, guilt, anger, sorrow…

Her hand was on the doorknob. Pushing all the emotions away, just like before when entering the High Lord's Residence, she turned the handle and pushed carefully.

Takan was watching over Akkarin. After two days completely delirious and dangerously frail, Akkarin was now in a more 'stable state'. Takan knew what to do, and she needed to go see Rothen, who was recovering from the painful treatment for his shoulder. She'd also decided not to stay by Akkarin all the time for a…metamorphic reason…

It took her a few seconds to comprehend what she was seeing, during which surprise, panic, confusion and relief tore through.

Takan was looking at somewhere near her, his gaze distant, but when he noticed Sonea he jerked his head meaningfully to one side, something Sonea had to admit she did not understand.

As she walked over, the Sachakan gently laid Akkarin back on the bed, being careful to lay his hands, which were bound with strips of linen, on his sides on the bed.

As she saw Akkarin's face, Sonea could already guess what had happened. His face was streaked with tear stains, and his breathing, though steady, was heart-wrenchingly shallow.

She felt a rising fear. She'd hoped Akkarin would get over the nightmares after being mostly Healed. Physically.

What if…?

Stop! Thinking and worrying so will…

Even Vinara had stayed silent on the matter of whether Akkarin would truly recover. Sonea knew he was still in pain. The Healers had done as much as they could without practically killing him with Healing magic he could not respond to; Akkarin didn't have enough in his body to fix it so fast…

"Lady Sonea," Takan whispered, jolting Sonea out of her thoughts. He motioned towards the door and she followed him.

Takan stood by the door in the corridor, facing Akkarin's bed. Sonea leaned slightly against the doorframe, a mixture of dread and hope swirling inside her.

"A nightmare," Takan said in a low voice, "He spoke a little. He's dreaming about yeels, you know…"
Takan had become…shabbier, his hair tied back loosely. For the past few days he'd been either looking after Akkarin or concocting the mixture his friend was to drink. But what prompted Sonea to ask the dreaded question was what that Ichani had said so long ago. 'But the yeel tore her legs up; she wasn't able to run much afterwards.'

'Takan,' she said haltingly. 'I just want to know. Has Dakova ever…?"

Takan's lips thinned. "Not… Actually, Dakova likes to chase after the slaves himself, and then give them a good beating or feed them alive to the yeels. Speaking of that… I really think, by what Akkarin was rambling… that… he was dreaming that he was being…"

He paused, his gaze drifting to Akkarin's bed. Sonea felt and urge to look there too, but it seemed that nothing was wrong and she fixed her gaze on the Sachkan before her.

"But Kariko did, mostly because he… well, he did this…" Takan took a deep breath, and then exhaled for quite a long time. "I heard him say most survive it, when he was visiting Dakova, but… Pardon me Sonea…they…don't live long because they can't follow up with the rest when the camp moves, and ―"

Sonea had heard enough. Shaking her head, which amazingly silenced Takan, she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

"Aye," she choked, her voice shaking with almost hysterical determination and amusement, "that will not happen."

A/N: Eleanor Roosevelt or somebody said that we love people more for their weaknesses rather than their strengths…

I won't be updating until the start of November: the exams are looming closer. I'm almost finished with the last chapter of my other fic Do Not Look Back and will update that as soon as I get home from the chemistry exam. Please R and R!