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

Endless Slumber

Clouds thundered above as lightning struck mercilessly, illuminating a lithe figure atop a barren hill. It watched with calculating eyes as two silhouettes battled, each fighting for a different cause. The clashing of mind and body were taking a toll on each opponent. Weary, tiring, and stiff from the constant hammering of the rain, a sudden urge to be done with the battle raced through one of the foes as she struck the opposer with one swift strike to the gut, the point of her sword sticking out of his lower back. The figure dropped to his knees in obvious pain as she pulled out her blade agonizingly slow to make her rival feel pain – to suffer the wrath of her power. He fell to the ground, eyes rolled up into his head, slowly dying an unknown death, for his body had gone numb with pain before he even reached the ground. She looked on, green eyes glinting as she let out a malevolent cackle.

Arya's eyes shot open while her hand clutched her heart. Her breathing had rapidly accelerated to an unhealthy pace.

What had happened? It was as if she was possessed. Never would she kill her closest friend. The one she could enjoy time with. Who had saw she openly cried in front of. Who held her when Oromis' death shocked her. Who was next? Faolin? Oromis? Her own mother? She was left with a jumble of questions floating around in her head. Before she could think anymore, another nightmare struck her with such suddenness, it took the wind out of her lungs as she was plunged into her fears.

She could not wake from her slumber, she had tried, but to no avail. She was stuck in her mind with her worst fears, and could not hide behind a barrier. Oh no, she had no shield, no corner, nightmares were her only companions. Day after day scenes replayed over and over of her loved ones being killed with her own hand. Each worst than the last. There was poison on the sword that impaled her; she bleakly grasped this new information. It had already gone into her system, affecting her brain, making it hallucinate.

She knew not how long these apparitions of horror went on, only that she was waiting for the next one where she beheaded, slashed or cleaved her opponent, watching with wicked glee as they died. She could only hope that someone knew what the poison was, and cure her. It was already taking a toll on her mind and body, making them weak, and left without any energy. Arya could only keep her sanity for so much longer. Eventually as the dreams kept coming, her primal instincts came out; fear was the only emotion she had now.

As the time ticked by, Arya's body slowly lost weight until she was only skin and bones. Her muscles, once so great, were useless and stringy. Her face, once so full and carved to perfection, was sunken in. And her cheekbones. They stuck out like sharpened blades, ready to hurt someone, lest they touch her.

This did matter to Eragon, for he never left her side, always murmuring words of comfort, stroking her lusterless hair, trying to bring her back to reality. Once she moaned, he tried shaking her, but she just wouldn't wake. He fed her broth to keep her nourished, called for Angela to see if she could do anything, but it was all in vain. Months passed without any progress as battles raged outside. It would break Eragon's heart to be parted from her when duty called.

He would kill the person responsible for her illness. Punish without impunity, torment them in the worst possible way. Oh, this would be much worse than death itself. How he relished in dreaming their retribution. He had kept the sword that plunged into her gut and examined it closer this time. It hadn't been cleaned, and remnants of a metallic blue substance was still on it. He would have to ask Angela to examine it right away.

*Keep on reading.*