*I do not own the Inheritance Cycle…Also, flying pigs.*

A Lost Soul

The pain, it was indescribable, throbbing, aching. None of these could describe what was happening to her. A thousand needles stabbed at her, pinning her to the ground where she lie, unable to cry out in pain. Tears ran down her flawless face, while spasms racked her body. Red spots began to appear in her vision, voices were melting into nothingness. A familiar voice was desperately calling out her name, only to be heard as a whisper in her mind.

She faintly registered that she was being carried, the gentleness the way the person carried her was lulling, making her eyes heavy with exhaustion. Her heartbeat, so faint, weak and broken, could only hold on for so much longer. Yet this person tried so hard to heal her grievous wounds with what little strength he had. Darkness was slowly enclosing upon her in a gentle embrace, she tried to fight but her body told her to let go, to give in. The Void was waiting for her, her beloved was waiting for her, yet she knew she had to fight. Would she really give up now, just when the Varden were gaining the upper hand in this gruesome war?

All her life she had worked for this cause, and now…She was going to die by the hand of a seemingly typical warrior. No she had to fight! She tried to open her eyes, yet even that little movement has taken so much energy. She just wanted to fall into the black abyss of dreams and fairy tales. Back into the warmth of the bed she was on. But she had to open her eyes, if only to take a look around. She saw a blurry figure sitting on a chair, light snores emitting from it. Suddenly, he looked around with wild eyes, checking if the person next to him was alright. He was surprised to see her awake, and scrambled to her side at once. She looked straight into his eyes seeing that concern glowed in his eyes and worry etched in his face.

"Why…?" Came a weak and haggard voice.

"Shhh…" the man gently cooed. "Don't talk. Your wounds haven't healed yet. It would be best not to move."

But you could have killed yourself- She was cut off as she lightly brushed his mind.

That doesn't matter! If I had lost you, I don't know what I'd do. You could have died out there, Arya!

I shall sacrifice myself if that's what it takes to help our cause. Her eyes were chips of emerald ice as they glinted coldly. And it would do you well to remember that. Your plan was foolhardy and dangerous.

Yet here I stand, healthy as an ox. The man's voice strained with unspoken words of anger.

That may be, but if you died, where would that leave me-Alagaesia? Arya said hurriedly.

He raised a slanted eyebrow. Well, utter chaos would erupt and people would be ridden with grief because their only hope died saving an otherwise normal elf with what little strength he had. Sarcasm dripped from his every word, though behind them, more could be heard if one listened hard enough.

Please, Eragon, listen to me. I don't –Here she sighed – I don't want to lose my closest friend. The war has already taken all who I care about, and I am not about to lose you.

Eragon's eyes softened. Arya, I didn't know that you valued me so much. Please, forgive me for my ignorance.

All is already forgiven…She whispered in his mind, slowly closing her eyes, lost to the pitch black night of unconsciousness.

*Note: All chapters until chapter eleven have been edited.

Keep on reading.*