Hello everyone, it's been a while. I won't stand in between you and the continuation any longer than I have to, so for those of you who are curious as to why it took so long, there is a small bit at the end of this chapter explaining why. Enjoy!

Small note: If this chapter feels a little different or weird, please keep in mind that I have not touched this work in over half a year. After over 100.000 words i felt like it was finally time for this chapter to happen so you can hate all you want but I'm not taking it back. I will start responding to reviews again in the next chapter!

He sighed. 'I really don't want to do this'

'You are the one who decided to violate her mind, not me.' His dragon responded

'There is no need to rub it in.'

'I thought you figured by now that that's pretty much my job description.'

Eragon gathered all his dignity about him, about to do the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Three well placed raps on the tent post to his left later he was inside the tent. With clenched teeth he dropped the large brown bag on the floor at her feet. With a curious look she took the leather bindings and undid them. "Oh, Eragon-"

"I didn't have to, I know. But I need your help and technically this puts you in my debt."

"You could have just asked. I really was kidding when I asked you to save all your down."

"Perhaps, but the favor I have to ask is rather big so I decided I might as well start off by getting on your good side."

Angela grinned. "You realize I'm never going to let you live this one down, right?"

"You have no idea." Eragon muttered.

There was a brief moment where Angela tried to mend her composure. Eventually she just gave up and allowed the half mocking grin to remain plastered to her face. "So what is it you needed my help with?"

"I made a mistake. A very, very big mistake."

The woman across him nodded sagely. "And it wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain she-elf now would it?"

Eragon's face contorted a little before he formulated the very well contemplated answer "maybe."

"I figured as much. Do I get to know the nature of the problem?"

Eragon's face turned to stone. "I just handed you my dignity, you are going nowhere near my ego."

Angela pouted. "You're no fun. I suppose I should be thankful for what is given freely. Tell me what you did and why you want my help."

"What I tell you next will not leave this tent without my explicit permission."

Angela huffed. "A bold request." When Eragon remained unmoved at her undignified attitude she sighed. "Very well, my lips are sealed."

He handed over a scrap piece of paper with notes scribbled hastily onto it. "I need you to make this potion."

Hesitantly Angela took it and read down the list. With each passing ingredient her eyes grew wider and wider. "Eragon, are you even aware of what this is?"

"Bitterly so Angela."

For the first time in his life it seemed the herbalist didn't know what to say. "I- even if I wanted to, some of the ingredients here have not been seen in centuries. I might be able to replace Erynweed and Mournrose with modern counterparts, but-"

Eragon dropped a second bag at her feet. "Everything you need is in there, except for the Sandclovers, but those grow in plenty on the south side of this camp."

"How did you get all this?"

"A blood sacrifice, an ancient relic and a very large pile of decomposing bodies." He replied without hesitation.

"You found a way to contact Icarus, even in death. He put you up to this"

Eragon briefly glanced away. "Not that it is relevant, but yes there is a way. I would, however, venture to say that it was me who put Icarus up to it rather than the other way around. Will you make the potion for me?"

"I would be handing you a knife with no hilt and asking you to juggle with it."

"Will you make the potion?"

Angela almost looked pained. "At least tell me why."

Eragon paced the length of the tent before sitting down on one of the chairs in Angela's tent. "I have moved heaven and earth for that woman once and I will have to do it again. I… broke something deep inside of her. Something that cannot be mended through magic or salves. I have exhausted every thought, every option, every-" he stopped before he strayed too far from topic. "What I'm trying to say is that there is only one way. This way. And it's my responsibility to right my wrongs. Please help me Angela."

[]_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[] Two weeks earlier []_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[]

Eragon's wing still ached from the wound he had sustained. It was getting better by the day yet he couldn't mind rubbing it absentmindedly as he looked around the damp, dark cave they would be doing their dirty business in.

'Are you sure about this?' Saphira asked, her large blue eye blinking slowly as it hovered in front of his face.

'It's not like I have much of a choice.'

'You would burden your conscience with one thing to absolve yourself of another?'

Not wasting another moment he forcibly shoved the knife through his prisoner's spine, just below the base of his skull. 'Apparently I am.' He had carefully selected his victim. The man had been a rapist, plunderer and murderer before conscripting into Galbaorix's army, but that made the deed none less vile. 'Now I really hope this works because I am going to be mildly aggravated if it didn't.'

"Crude, but effective."

After Icarus had done it hundreds of times, the sudden appearance of the woman with black and white hair behind him no longer startled him as much as it did anybody else. "I came to hitch a ride. I need to speak with Icarus. Has he recovered sufficiently?"

"Perhaps. We will go and see."

Bright lights followed by a warping encapsulated him. Then he was on a windy, grey beach at the end of the universe. "Just walk into the water when you are ready to leave and try not to get yourself killed or worse, trapped." Then she was gone.

It almost sounded strange when he thought it, but he was beginning to get used to the mannerisms of the ancients. Gathering his wits about him he took a deep breath and began strolling down the beach looking for any sign of his former mentor.

Eragon walked for perhaps an hour until he saw a figure in the distance. It took him another fifteen minutes to close the distance. Icarus stood silently gazing into the distance looking the same as always. His long black wings he usually held so tightly to his back were loose and the tips dragged in the sand as if he had admitted defeat. "Welcome to my prison Eragon. What can I do for you?" was the evenly voiced question.

Eragon stood beside him, his own white wing overlapping the black one slightly. "I made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake and I have no idea how to fix it. You are the last one I can turn to for help."

"Well, it's not like I have anything better to do since you have stranded me here. Tell me what you did."

"Icarus it was not like I had a choice. The alternative was spiritual oblivion."

The other man sighed. "I know my sister can be very persuasive. She always got her way even when we were younger. I do not blame you for her actions I just-" he struggled for words but found none. "Just tell me what it is you came for."

"I lost control."

"Be more specific. There is so much power in you 'losing control' can entail anything from breaking a cup to annihilating a small city."

"I used your 'gift' on somebody innocent." Eragon replied, adding a slight amount of power to the words to eradicate any doubt that might ever have been there.

"Let me guess, your elf woman?" Icarus inquired.

Eragon wondered if it was really that obvious. "I'm afraid so. I told her to go back to her tent and stay there until she had made up her mind about something. She has not been seen the three weeks since."

Icarus remained silent for a while. "Anything else?"

"I did not go through all the trouble to just lose her like this. There must be something that can be done."

"That is entirely dependent on how far you are willing to go."

"I already killed a man to get here. Might as well lay it on me."

Icarus turned to face him. "There is no way to 'fix' what you did. The only way to undo your curse is to literally remove the memory from her mind."

"We can get one of the mages to do that." Eragon suggested hopefully.

The older man smiled a wry smile. "It's not that easy. Merely suppressing or erasing it doesn't suffice. You need to cut it out with a proverbial knife. Unfortunately any knife – including this one – leaves wounds. To prevent her mind from collapsing on itself you will need to substitute different memories into the hole you leave behind. In essence, you would need to swap her memories for another's."

"All memories?" Eragon asked, abhorred.

"Just the past three weeks or so should suffice, but there will be no way to retrieve them and you must never never let her look into the mind of whoever holds her memories lest you risk relapsing her."

Eragon sank down to the sand, moving his hand through his hair. "I don't suppose you know of a way to do something like that?"

"I do. You will have to call on the herbalist to aid you for you cannot prepare the decoction yourself. You will also need a number of items which are very hard to come by these days." Icarus clenched his jaw before looking up towards the sky. "Sister! I know you can hear me!" The rustling of cloth behind them was the only sign that death had arrived. He then turned to face Eragon again. "Go now. I will make sure you have everything you need when you wake."

Eragon hesitated. "Icarus-"

"Go." He said firmly, pointing towards the water that stretched as far as the eye could see. As he retreated Eragon faintly heard Icarus start a hushed conversation in a language he didn't recognize. The tones were melodic and flowing and the last thing he heard before he found himself back on the cold, dark ground in the secluded cave where he'd been earlier.

'I took the liberty of removing the body before he bled all over you.' Saphira, who was lounging quietly in a corner, informed him.

'How long was I out?' He asked as he scrambled to his feet.

'Most of the day. Did you find what you were looking for?'

'Unfortunately I did.'

Eragon looked around the cave, searching for what Icarus had promised. At first he saw nothing but then his eye caught on a small, folded note that hadn't been there before. Carefully he reached down and picked it up.

"Go to the mass grave south of the encampment. You will find seven herbs there – you will know them when you see them. Take them to the herbalist."

Below the lines an elaborate writing of lines and dots filled the paper. Undoubtedly some message for Angela. 'Come, we must go south. I will tell you of what I plan to do on the way.'

[]_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[]_/\_[]

Eragon studied the curious vialed concoction Angela had reluctantly handed him an hour earlier as he approached the small elven enclave to the west of the encampment. As he approached he got a lot of unfriendly looks. He was not surprised nor offended by them. He deserved their contempt after all. Faolin was the only one brave enough to actually speak up. "I think you have done enough damage." He said in the ancient tongue, blocking Eragon's path.

"That's why I am here – to undo the damage." He replied in kind. Faolin gave him a pensive look. He knew Eragon wasn't lying for he too had spoken in the ancient language and yet seemed reluctant to let him pass.

"You will pay for what you did, shadeslayer." He muttered before stepping aside.

'That's exactly what I'm about to do.' He thought as he pressed forward. He didn't even bother trying to knock. Arya couldn't reply to him after all. After a brief pause he pushed aside the flap and slipped inside her tent. The princess was asleep. A curious sight for this time of day but there was no way of telling what three weeks of isolation had done to her.

'She is going to hate me for doing this, isn't she?'

Saphira's mind was a comforting warmth against his own. 'Who knows how she will react. However, angry is a very real possibility indeed.'

'Well, at least then she can be angry at me outside the confines of her tent.' Eragon surmised.

Gently he turned Arya onto her back, doing his utmost best not to rouse her from her waking dream. Uncorking the bottle Eragon spread some onto his thumb. First he drew a line across her forehead and then proceeded to do the same thing to himself. Nothing could have prepared him for what came next. It was as if their minds had melded and become one. Focusing himself like Oromis had taught him he set out to find a very specific memory in the flood of noise that was crashing into his skull.

Eragon searched for a time that could have been minutes or hours. It was hard to tell as his mind was continuously being battered and bruised. He would be having one glorious headache after this. Finally he found what he was looking for and excised the infected memory, swapping it with his own and barely making it to the bushes some fifty paces away before passing out.

In his fever dreams he saw what Arya had experienced. Felt the pain as she stared at the roof of her tent hour after hour. He heard Faolin calling for her and felt her torn between the desire to be consoled and the wish never to lay eyes on him ever again. She had realized he had been right. Faolin was holding her back and even if Eragon had failed to word it more diplomatically it didn't alter the fundamental truth. But he hated her now. He would never accept her anymore and that meant she would never leave the confines of her tent. A fitting form of penance perhaps for being blind so long.

It took four days for Eragon to awaken from his delirium again. Saphira was both happy and angry. 'Contain yourself in the future. I'm growing tired of watching you torture yourself like this.' She scolded him, but the underlying affection was clear. It was strange, remembering the past three weeks from another perspective. Eragon had no clue what he had done during that time, where he had been, who he had spoken to. In reply Saphira filled in the biggest gaps and promised to show him more later when his aching head began to throb.

'How is Arya?' he asked, hoping his efforts had not been in vain.

'Reclusive, but she appears to be free once again.'

Eragon released a breath he hadn't even been aware he had been holding. 'If it has indeed been five days I should go take a bath.'

Saphira extended her long neck to curl around her rider. 'It is good to have you back again.' A brief pause. 'But you are right. You smell horrible.'

'Thank you so very much. That is exactly what I needed to hear.' Eragon grumbled before shuffling out of his tent. His wings dragged behind him as he meandered towards the lake causing the tips to turn from white to grey.

"Mind if I join you?"

"If you promise not to talk too much; I have a bit of a headache." The blue haired elf fell into step next to him.

"I hear our princess made a miraculous recovery."

Eragon nodded. "Something of the sort."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I mean I only had to violate like every major principle I hold dear to do it. No biggie." From the tone of Eragon's voice Illium was able to derive this was not the topic of conversation to be pursued. Luckily it was Eragon who saved him. "I spoke to Islanzadi about a week ago."

"Really now, what did she have to say?"

"Well, it cost me an arm and a leg but you officially answer to me now."

"Sir yes sir!" Illium said.

"Don't even joke like that. You will have to return there to train your replacement and I would suggest you leave at your earliest convenience. Now that preparations are complete and the wounded have mostly recovered Brom plans to march the Varden in less than a week."

"I could leave by dusk today." Illium mused.

"Please see me before you go. If you are going to Du Weldenvarden you might as well take Islanzadi's payment with you. I expect you back with us within the month."

The elf nodded. "Very well, I shall leave you then to go and pack my belongings. Also Arya was looking for you."

"Yeah, I think she will be angry with me. Perhaps it's best to first let her cool off a bit. Besides, my dragon told me I stink so I should probably wash myself before doing anything else. Safe journey Illium."

"Angry is not the word I'd use to describe it, but it's up to you." 'Yeah, livid is more like it' Eragon thought. But Illium wasn't done speaking yet: "And Eragon…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Don't think I will go any easier on you just because you said that. There is a war to be won and all you've done is moved yourself closer to line of fire. But I suppose you are welcome." Eragon said, nodding to his new subordinate. Briefly he contemplated the need for a better team than 'subordinate', but he would discuss it with both Nemeya and Illium when the latter returned from his journey.

When he was sure Illium was gone he resumed his track to the water only to find Nemeya already floating around in it. Eragon really wanted that bath, but he would not violate another's privacy to do so. But before he had the chance to turn back Nemeya called him back. "Feel free to join me."

Eragon turned around again to see her standing up and face him without any attempt to maintain her modesty. Rivulets of water accentuated the very feminine curves of her body. "I really don't think that's appropriate." He suggested.

"Your heart already belongs to another. I highly doubt I could convince you to do anything inappropriate even if I tried."

Eragon sighed. "That is a bold presumption."

"That I couldn't convince you?"

"No, you were right on that account, but I highly doubt I still have a heart."

Nemeya looked at him for a moment. "You are being hard on yourself. Now are you going to join me or do you plan on turning that awful smell into a weapon?" Eragon closed his eyes for a moment and stripped down. He dropped his blades on top of the pile of fabric. His wings moved to cover his nudity before walking into the water. It took his body a moment to adjust to the cold. Before he could set to work, however, he felt soft hands touch his shoulders. "Relax." She whispered into his ear, kneading down his sore back muscles.

It almost felt like he was back in Farthen Dur.

"You should call me more often. You have so many knots in your shoulders that it makes me wonder how you can still move those arms."

"You learn to ignore the pain eventually." He replied, allowing himself to be vulnerable in her presence. The past few weeks had really changed his protégé, so Eragon noticed. "How are your men? Have they recovered?"

"Most of them didn't survive the battle. The few that are left are too busy mourning their lost comrades to look after themselves." She replied ruefully.

"It's only natural. Learn from your mistakes. I will talk to those you have left and ensure you receive a full contingent again. Next time more will live and more yet again the time after that. You have heart and that is all you need. The rest is just training a skill like any other."

They briefly talked over the details of the battle, Eragon giving her a few pointers and suggestions on how to improve both her personal and commanding performance. "How do you know all this?" She asked.

"I spent hour upon grueling hour locked in my mind dealing with these kinds of issues. Though it almost pains me to admit it, those lessons have saved my life and the lives of many others on countless occasions. Unfortunately you don't have the luxury of a controlled learning environment which means you have to do it out here, for real. All I can do is help you and suggest you learn quickly."

She smiled wryly. "I will try my best." She briefly paused. "Now that you are more or less clean, I have a suggestion of my own to make."

Eragon raised a brow. "I'm intrigued. Please do continue."

"Please go and see Arya. She's been searching for you since you woke and it's been driving her mad."

"She will rip my throat out because of what I did."

Nemeya hovered closer, folding her hands around Eragon's head. Gently, as a mother would, she pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "There is more good in you than you give yourself credit for. Trust that others see that as well. Especially those with more than a century of experience beneath their belt." Releasing him she retreated back to shore. One hasty drying later she threw her clothes on and left him alone again.

'Why do I get the feeling that Arya planted her here for me to find?' Eragon mused.

'Because you would be right making that assumption.' Saphira replied.

'You were in on this? Since when are we keeping secrets from each other?' Eragon asked disapprovingly.

She huffed in return. 'I was bound by oath not to tell you. Since you found out on your own, however, I no longer have to keep it from you.'

Eragon wasn't planning on letting it slide that easily, but he didn't have the composure to press the issue right now. 'Do you think I should go see her?' He asked, already knowing what his dragon would answer.

'I think you should.'

Eragon sighed and began wading to shore. 'If she tries to kill me I'm holding you personally responsible.' The only reply was some amused humming as Saphira drew back her mind, dulling their connection a little.

Feeling as if the world was conspiring against him he set out to find the elven woman that had haunted his dreams for months. To his great surprise Arya was actually nowhere to be found. He looked in her tent, Brom's command tent, the reclusive spot on the mountain to the south that she liked to meditate on. He checked the practice fields, the archery range. Eragon even went as far as to see if he could spot Firnen's massive green bulk anywhere so he could ask him but to no avail.

When the sun had set he gave up and retreated to his tent. 'I have flown over the camp also but didn't find her.' Saphira informed him as she landed next to the tent.

'Curious through how much trouble she went only to have me chasing ghosts. I suppose this just confirms my theory.' He replied, pulling off his clothes and dropping onto his cot. Though he didn't necessarily need to sleep tonight, his head was killing him and his body still felt abused from the torment he'd put it through. For a moment it seemed as if Saphira was looking for a reply, searching for the right words. A moment later however she gave up and wished him good night.

It was an uneasy sleep. One plagued by ghosts of the past and persistent images of the destruction he caused alternated by reliving the torture he'd imposed on Arya. After hours of tossing and turning about he sat up in his bed. Something Irked at him, compelled him to move. Then it dawned on him.

The promise.

He'd promised Arya to come to her should his dreams be plagued by nightmares again. The fact that he'd done so in the ancient language meant he had no choice but to do exactly that. With a mingled feeling of dread and anticipation he threw on his breeches and shirt again before striding out into the night. The moon was full and at its apex high above him as he silently he drifted through the camp. Over the weeks he'd gotten better at hiding himself – which proved to be slightly more challenging with white wings – and somehow he managed to remain undetected by any of the sentries.

To his great surprise it was not towards the elven encampment his feet led him, but rather south; out and away from the Varden and into Surda. He walked for hours until he finally stumbled across a small stream surrounded by light shrubbery. There was a hint of magic in the air which told him he was on the right track. They were not harmful spells, rather they had characteristics of warding magic so as to make the location slightly more homely. There, nestled gently into a bedroll, lay Arya her head only inches away from the edge of the water.

Somehow Eragon was not surprised. Come to think of it, he would probably have done the same thing after spending three weeks in a tent. Carefully he sat down perhaps ten paces away, leaning his back against one of the standing boulders that littered the landscape. He had promised to come find her – which is exactly what he had done. He would not disturb her sleep if he could avoid it.

He drew his knees close to his chest and rested his head on them, studying Arya's prone form. He focused on the steady rhythm of her breathing and allowed himself to sink into a semi meditative state. At some point he must have drifted off again because the next thing Eragon was aware of was a gentle hand shaking him awake. "Eragon, wake up." With a groan he opened his eyes, unconsciously moving his wings to remove the worst of the numbness that had crept up on him. The darkness of night still surrounded them. "What are you doing here?" she asked in the ancient language

He looked away in shame. "The promise you had me make. I had to come to you if the nightmares kept me up and so I did."

"How long have you been here?" She asked, her voice calm and even.

"Three hours after midnight I think."

Arya gasped. "You could have woken me up, you know." She chastised him.

"I promised I would find you, not that I would disturb your sleep for the sake of my own." Arya looked as if she wanted to start an argument over it but reconsidered.

"Ironic. I waited all day for you to find me but it's a promise that forced you here." She sounded almost… exposed when she said the words.

Eragon quirked an eyebrow. "I have searched everywhere I could think of, from your tent to the kitchens. Not even Saphira was able to find you and I couldn't find Firnen anywhere either." He replied in the ancient language.

"Firnen has been hunting since yesterday evening." Arya said, looking away.

"And what of you?" Eragon pressed.

Arya cleared her throat. "I was waiting in your tent." She said softly. "I… even though I no longer remember the weeks I spent in my own, I just can't stand the sight of those walls anymore."

"Well, this is the part where I apologize for violating your mind. Twice. I destroyed your trust in me and however much I wish to do so, I can never undo those actions. You have made it clear where we stand. If you would release me from my vow, I won't disturb you ever again either so you can live your life in peace."

Arya weighed her next words carefully. "What you did was wrong, I will not deny that. But no action is truly unforgivable. Sometimes the penance is great, sometimes it is small, but there is always a way to redeem yourself." She spoke in her mother tongue.

"Not for me, Arya. You will always see me for what I truly am now. I forced three weeks' worth of memories filled with the stuff of nightmares into your skull to undo the worst of what I did."

She knelt down before him, grasping his arm. "You gave me three weeks of proof how much you care for me."

"I killed a man for you. Cold blooded murder and I didn't even hesitate. I have lived your memories, Arya. I spent those three weeks locked in your tent in your stead and know how you felt throughout. But not even you can be blind to what that says about me."

Arya smiled a sad smile. "In a macabre way, it's actually kind of sweet that you would. Eragon, I know you are not perfect. By now I would have hoped you realized the same thing about me. I am done running from the past. I have made my choice."

When she said that Eragon felt predominantly panicked. "Arya, I have already hurt you so badly."

"As have I you. I should have realized so much sooner what you were, who you were. I was angry and naïve and caused you so much pain. As you said, I truly see who you are now. What dangers and horrors you brave and how dangerous they can be." She pulled his hand to her chest. "What beats in here is hurt and damaged, but it belongs to you if you will have it."

The look in Arya's eyes was so vulnerable that moment that it broke Eragon inside. Unable to stand it any longer he pulled her towards him, crushing her smaller frame to his chest and wrapping his wings around her and to himself he vowed he would never let her go.

"I still think you are making a mistake." He whispered.

Her hands pushed against him and hesitantly he allowed her some leeway. She pulled herself up, settling herself a little more comfortably against him before gently pressing her tender lips to his own. Eragon's surprise quickly faded as he reciprocated. After what could have been hours or minutes she was resting against his chest. "Rest now." She murmured. "You have a lot of sleeping to catch up on. I will still be here when you wake."

STATE OF THE UNION

So, this is the part where I start rambling about what kinds of fucked up my life has become. I suppose I should start around the time when I suddenly stopped uploading half a year ago. I currently study chemical engineering and failed one of my courses. On its own this wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the fact that despite my repeated communications, the university decided to ignore the fact that I HAD NO BOOK. When I then proceeded to complain about not having a book, they told me it was circumstantial and there was nothing they could do.

I said 'ok, since it's circumstantial, that means we can come to an arrangement for a retake in half a year or so when I DO have my book, right?'

Then they was all like 'no.'

I found that pretty unacceptable and ended up dragging them to a civilian court for it – hilarity ensued. Now let me tell you one thing about legal procedures: they are not fun. In the midst of this I was also trying to keep up with the hardest quarter year so far and quite ended up with a complete burnout. I have only barely recovered and I am still no further along with my quest. I suppose what I'm trying to say is… 'I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread'. All references aside though, my creative spirit was pretty crushed in the process and it took me a while to find it again.

That's also why this chapter might feel slightly different. When you don't work with something for long enough a time you kind of lose touch with it. You will have to give me a couple of chapters to reintegrate myself with my work. Expect the next update somewhere this month if all goes well. Cheers everyone.