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

Horrors in Illusions

The clouds in the air were tinted a light shade of orangey-pink as the sun started its slow assent into the sky. Shadows shortened and lengthened, trying to match the sun's rays, but never succeeding. And as the sun rose, creatures awoke from their slumber, stretching as they went. In a secluded tent, eyelids twitched and fluttered before finally opening to reveal chocolate brown eyes, swirling with urgency. He looked around frantically, searching every corner of his tent before sighing in relief as he planted his eyes on a slim form. Steady breathing could be heard with the rise and fall of her chest. Once positive that she was alright, he shaved his stubble with magic and put on a light sapphire tunic with black breeches. He did not eat, nor did he want to. All that mattered now was that his beloved elf was coming back.

Although Roran was not here because of a scouting mission, Nasuada and Angela were present should anything go wrong. Now came the moment he had been waiting for all theses months. Eragon looked at both women present, then to Saphira.

Good luck, little one.

Thank you, Saphira.

With confidence he told them, "I have been waiting long for this opportunity." He paused. "And I will bring her back."

He looked back to Arya and prepared to go into her mind. Gently, he let a tendril of thought extend towards her melodic conscious. He was met by the most daunting wall he had ever faced as he was attacked by mental daggers that made his mind scream with pain. It felt like hammers pounding inside his brain, but he pushed onward, determined to break her wall down. He surrounded her conscious with his own, sending all his feelings of love and admiration. This distraction caused a crack in her defense, and immediately, Eragon wormed his way through before she could seal it shut. What he saw was like nothing he had ever seen before.

Eragon was in a cell and for some reason, his body hurt all over. But when he looked down to his lap, he did not see tan bulky hands, instead slim pale ones. Footsteps suddenly echoed in the silent hallway, becoming louder with each passing second. Maroon hair and eyes accompanied with a cruel smile looked down at him.

Eragon closed his eyes without really doing it. He realized that he was in Arya's memories, going through the same things she had.

The Shade dragged him down an uneven hallway, rocked grazed his back, adding more pain to his already suffering body. They came to a stop at a steel door. He pulled a key, seemingly out of nowhere, and put it in the keyhole, slowly turning it as shafts came undone with a ker-shink as metal slid on metal. Inside, the chamber was dimly lit with two torches. Multiple torture items hung on the wall while a fireplace glowed brightly, heating up an iron rod with the Empire's symbol on it.

"Hmmm…I think I will start with this." He hissed, holding up a whip. "So simple… yet so painful."

He coated it with seithr oil, smiling wicked as he did so. The Shade raised his arm in preparation, and slammed down as hard as he could making it all the more painful. He screamed as he felt the seithr oil go into his wounds, making them burn and bubble. Eragon did not understand how Arya got through this. Every day of this kind of torture would surely break a person's mind.

She had many a secret as well. Ones that could devastate the entire world and throw it into chaos. She is truly not an elf to be clashed with, he thought this as the scene changed abruptly, making him queasy.

He was on the Burning Plains, battling a strong opponent. At first he thought it was Murtagh again, but then he saw the silhouette of the body, a womanly figure with curves and a fierce light in her eyes. She quickly disarmed him with a flick of her wrist and thrust her sword into his abdomen. Liquid fire erupted as she pulled it out excruciatingly slow. He could feel no more as he fell, eyes rolling back into his head. A puff of dust flew up as his body hit the ground while his opponent malignantly cackled.

He gasped, shocked, as he stood atop a hill. Did she think she would betray him? But regrettably, he had no time to think as he was thrown into another nightmare.

Three people sat atop horses, clinging to their manes as they galloped swiftly. The lead guard, as that was what it looked like, switched places with the other who was behind the middle figure. Unexpectedly came an arrow, going straight through the heart of the first guard. Then another whizzed past, hitting the other in the gut. Her horse fell in the mud as it slipped, partially crushing her right leg. She quickly dismounted, a sac bobbing on her hip as she ran. Urgals swiftly followed her through the forest, jumping over logs, and avoiding branches, bloodlust clearly in their eyes. She ran till she was exhausted, hyperventilating and down-right weary. Finally, a clearing appeared, but the shade soon arrived, Urgals lurking in the background with weapons at the ready.

Arya was trapped and she knew it. All the sprinting had taken a huge effort on her, and she knew she would collapse any moment, or might as well die of exhaustion because of what she was about to do.

She took an object out of the bag, its smooth surface glowing in the dim moonlight, raising it as she mouthed a spell. The shade saw this and immediately charged at her, magic crackling in his hand. But he wasn't fast enough just as he was about to reach her, there was a burst of green light, and the next thing he knew was that the dead elf was of no use to him anymore.

He screamed in frustration, killing the rest of the Urgals with one word.

Eragon felt a lump in his throat as he looked at her motionless body, slowly getting angry.

"No…No…Nooo! Arya!" He ran like he had never ran before, anger simmering beneath his skin, ready to explode at any minute. He looked down at her and released a blood-curdling scream of sorrow and hatred. He knew this wasn't real, yet it all looked so physical. Was this what Arya feared? Dying while sending Saphira's egg?

Get a hold of yourself. This isn't real, it's just the poison. I have to find it, and quickly, Eragon told himself firmly.

He tried to focus on the evil in Arya's mind, pinpointing it to the back of her head. It bubbled like tar, covering her mind, torturing it. He cornered it with his conscious, slowly overcoming it, drawing it into his own as he crushed it. He felt weak, so weak, but there was only a little left, he drew the rest in, returning to his mind just as he fainted.

*Keep on reading.*