With Clouded Vision

"Arya, can we talk?" Asked Eragon. She looked up and saw that he had approached her from behind while she was cleaning her bloody sword.

Inwardly she sighed, outwardly she just replied with, "Sure."

"Have you been avoiding me?" She felt a little bit surprised at the question. Had he forgotten what had occurred?

"So what if I have?" She replied with a touch of derision. She inwardly cringed a little bit at the harshness of her words but continued to look on blankly.

"Why?" He said the one word with so much sincerity that Arya just parted her mouth and stared for a moment.

Could he have forgotten? Or…

In between one moment and the next she darted into his mind. Eragon didn't even resist, he allowed her in without hesitation. The familiarity of his mind was unmistakable, different than the first time she had entered it when she first met him, but it was Eragon. Right now, it was tinged with sadness, most likely at the current situation.

"Okay, tell me that you have never kissed me in the Ancient Language." She said this bluntly and studied his features. He blushed, but still looked very confused. After a moment of composure, he gathered together the words and said them in the Ancient Language.

So, it is true. That was not Eragon. Who was it then?

She went on to tell him the story of what had occurred a fortnight ago. When she had finished, Eragon's features were slightly contorted with anger.

"How could something like this have happened. What kind of spellcaster can make a fake well enough that it could trick you?" He intoned. Then he quieted. He had probably hit the conclusion that maybe she was tricked because she didn't know him as well as he thought. Which was partly true. Then she remembered all of the doubts she was having after the encounter.

"This can't be handled by Trianna, we need to do something about this. I have a plan." She replied.

...

Another sparring session, at least that is what it would appear to be to an onlooker. Eragon and Arya made sure to be extra aware of any nearby presences. The wards they placed on their swords were made so that they could deactivate them with one word. They still went at it with all of their strength and skill. She had missed sparring with Eragon. He may not be as skilled as some of her fellow elves, but he was fun to tease and he never would give up.

She stabbed him in the heart again. They went to get into their positions again. Immediately a presence engulfed her senses, it seemed that it did the same to Eragon. She was surprised when it decided to speak to them.

So my plan to separate you two didn't pan out the way I wanted it to. What a pity. I should've known that the only way to do that was for one of you to die.

The voice inside her head was filled with contempt and malice. She looked up and was surprised to find herself alone.

Another illusion? This certainly is a master spellcaster we are dealing with.

She took off the wards on her sword and readied herself for what was to come. After a few tense moments of scanning the clearing, she heard footsteps coming towards her.

"Arya, there you are!" called out Eragon. She turned around and saw him there with his sword ready. Then he looked to the left of her and stared. She glanced beside her and saw a copy of herself there. Nothing physically could set them apart.

Choose the real one, otherwise, their time will run short.

In an instant, there was suddenly a collar around her throat that prevented her from speaking. She felt it begin to close off her airway.

Stab the fake and leave with your friend, unharmed.

He went up to fake Arya and tried to cut the collar with his sword, but it did nothing.

"Give me a sign or something, please?" He begged of them.

Ropes enclosed her legs and wrists. The same had been done to the fake.

What was the fake, was it a real person, or just created by some spell?

She looked up at Eragon and decided that all she could do was just stare into his eyes. He looked back and forth between her and the fake. She began gagging, the collar was really starting to choke her. He seemed to begin panicking. She gave him one last look and collapsed at the same time as the fake.

A sharp stab to her stomach, then the collar gave away. She must've only been out for a few moments. She opened her eyes and saw the blood begin to pool from her stomach, it was spreading fast. The fake Arya was free and had her sword unsheathed. She began to form words to tell Eragon to watch out, but he turned and blocked the fake's attempt to behead him. In two more moments, Eragon had the fake unarmed. He knocked her out and ran to her.

"Arya?" He stared at her wound, the wound he had caused. He began healing her, he was pouring more energy into it than he should've. "I'm sorry, I should've known."

She coughed up a little bit of blood and just whispered, "It's okay, you just don't know me well enough." Then out of pity or possibly something else she added a faint, "At least not yet."

She felt her wounds closing, this was probably good enough for now. She gently removed his hands from her abdomen and gestured towards her fake lying on the grass. He understood and got up to go and interrogate her. She slowly stood up herself and walked to herself.

She had the same hair, clothing, sword and even scars as herself. Eragon made to lift her to a sitting position, but she slowly started fading away. At the same time, she felt a presence behind her begin to appear. She turned and gritted her teeth at the still residing pain in her stomach. It was one of Trianna's new spellcasters. He looked scrawny and pale, but a deep scowl seemed to be fixed to his face. His hair was blond and lacked luster. Dark circles surrounded his lifeless eyes. His sword was pointed at her neck.

"I misjudged your healing capabilities, how silly of me." He sneered. His real voice was the same as the voice he was projecting earlier. She was about to go for her sword when she realized she had dropped it in the grass. Instead, she tore out her metal sheath from her belt and faster than the spellcaster could react she blocked his sword and swept out her foot to trip him. She took his sword and pointed it at his throat. He was not a swordsman, but he was a very accomplished spellcaster, without hesitation, he began to attack her mind.

His probe was filled with the power of a battering ram. There was something augmented about his magic. Her defenses wouldn't hold out for that long. She then started her own counterattack. He began faltering a little bit at the ferocity of her attack. Little by little she drove him back into his own mind. His defenses weren't powerful enough to withstand her overwhelming attack. When she broke in she caught scattered memories of the man who had caused her so much trouble.

A boy starving with his family. The promise of money and food from Galbatorix's army spreads through his town. It makes him forget about who was taxing his family to the point of starvation. They enlist him and find out he has an affinity for magic. Brutal training ensues, he learns many forbidden arts in the span of three months. In the process, his spirit is nearly broken. Then the planting of him in the Varden. The Varden accepts the spellcaster who managed to hide his oath to Galbatorix. He watches the dragon rider and elf spar. His plan becomes clear to him.

Before she can go any farther into his mind, his mind closes and becomes blank. She looks down at him and sees that he had quietly died. His story wasn't uncommon in the broken place they lived in. Alagaesia was filled with others like him. It was unfortunate for him that it turned out he could use magic. She realized Eragon was still there. He had been staring at her and waiting to see how the battle of wills had turned out.

"He's dead, I must've triggered one of his oaths. We need to make sure Trianna probes newcomers more strictly, this cannot happen again." She then told Eragon about what she glimpsed in his mind.

"This is why I need to free Alagaesia." He spoke with resolve and certainty. There was also an undercurrent of pain behind his words. He looked at the spellcaster then. After all if circumstances were different, Eragon could've been that spellcaster. She looked towards him and nodded. With nothing else to say she went to return to camp and report to Nasuada.

"Wait," he called out. "I want to get to know you better, I want to be able to see you clearly."

" I do too," she replied without looking at him. Then she continued on the path and started thinking about the lines she told Eragon and herself not to cross.

I will post one more chapter concerning this "arc" you probably know what that last chapter will be about though :) Till next time.