Author's Note: Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction. And a simple warning, this chapter contains some gruesome language and images.

Concealed by the leaves in front of me, I dangled from a long arm of the tree. The young boy, not yet at the age of manhood, was hunting. Such naivety from this boy, does he not realize that he is about to become sacrifice, and not just any sacrifice, the sacrifice of one of the most powerful creatures that ever stalked the land of Alagaesia?

I extended my left arm, aiming at the soil, underneath my prey. Feeling for the presence of a rose vine, growing, rising, and emerging from the cracked earth, the vine grew until its height matched that of the boy, and lashed forward, wrapping itself around the boy's neck. He set free a strangled yelp before the vine cut off his windpipe. A malicious smirk graced my lips before I commanded the vine to weave up into the tree, and halt before me. I studied the human facing me, the boy was struggling to loosen the rose stem binding his breath, his face growing red from the lack of air. His eyes reflecting my appearance, my heterochromatic eyes, my pallid skin, laced with pale blue contours. The boy's cobalt eyes began to cloud over, a darker haze shading the clear color

"Such pretty eyes," I whispered. I reached out and caressed the boy's cheek; he flinched, and thrashed harder to remove to vine. My right hand whipped out and held his chin to keep him still, and with my left hand I traced his left eye. And unable to hold in the raw hunger any longer, I plunged my fingers into his eye socket, and gouged out his eyeball. The boy opened his mouth, to unleash a soundless, breathless, cry of agony.

I stared at the beauty of the eyeball in the palm of my hands, gently embracing the bloody sphere like a new born child. Roll the eye into the palm of my right hand, I lifted my blood-soaked fingers to my own right eye, and gashed it out, gritting as the magenta coloured organ slumped out of its socket. Blood streaming down my face, and onto my arm, my own blood mixing with the boy's. Letting my eyeball plunge to the floor of the forest; I grasped the boy's and rammed it into the empty hollow. I hissed as the muscles in the socket connected with the foreign eye, forcing it to work once again.

Vision in my right eye returned. And below me, smothered sobs of anguish were heard. I leaped off the branch and landed silently on the ground, and sauntered towards my sacrifice. He lifted his head, his hand covering the concave of his eye and blubbered.

"N-no! Please no, please don't kill me!" he cried raising both hands out in front, like it would protect him.

"If I don't kill you," I began, my left hand grasping the hilt of Vitenka, "then taking your eye would be for nothing." I awakened my blade, "rest assured, your life will not be in vain". I raised the blade, "with the life you have given me, I intend to hunt down someone who will grant me the status of being absolutely unconquerable." I whipped my arm down, Vitenka hacking the boy's head off. Blood splattered the dirt.

I closed my eyes, power surged through me. My limbs no longer felt weak, and aged. The boy has given me a gift of at least 40 more years of age.

I bent over and wiped the blood off the sharp metal, and sheathed it.

"And this person, do you know who she is?" I asked, pausing for one last glance at the corpse. "She is Arya the Elven Princess."

Authors Note: Hisota apologizes for such a short chapter. But hopes that you liked it. And she wants inform you that, not all the chapters are going to be this gruesome and violent. Hisota thanks you for reading the second chapter of Sight.