Disclaimer, I do not own the Inheritance Cycle

Chapter Eight: Reactions

Morning broke upon the forest, dusting the trees with orange light. Up above, some stars still showed bravely against the rising suns, but they would soon vanish. A few of the tallest trees rustled as the elves who were studying the stars left the dim light of the canopy to the still darker regions of the undergrowth. Many elves were retiring to bed, having stayed out the entire night admiring the grove of silvery flowers that dimmed and brightened with the rising and falling of the full moon. There were only thirteen full moons a year, so the blooming of these special flowers were somewhat of an occasion. Everyone who could would gather and quietly observe it, and it was one of the few times that the population of the elven cities would gather in one place. Ironically, the sight of the blooming flowers often brought many elves together through their beauty, despite their original purpose to serve as a reminder of a terrible tragedy.

For the first time in her long life, the night of the blooming had marked a time of giant pain rather than peace. Arya lay on the floor, drifting in and out of her nightmares. Her body was collapsed on the floor. She laid on her side, her face gaunt, and her hair in an untidy pile. Her right hand lay next to her face, which was frozen in an expression of pain. While her eyes were open, they were glazed over, and unfocused. The most disturbing fact was the pool of blood by her head, which came from her eyes, nose, mouth, and fingernails. Arya lay there, until a ray of sunlight hit her white face. The sunlight caused her face to restore to its natural tone, and her eyes to blink. Slowly, she raised her head, trying to take in her surroundings. The cool wooden floor assured her that she was awake, and free of that horrid nightmare. She sighed and tried to sit up, but she collapsed into the pool of blood, racked by a strong fit of coughs. She tried again and managed to sit up with the aid of her hands. Suddenly, she doubled over and a pool of dark and red liquid came from her mouth. After ten minutes, Arya was quite sure that she had thrown up a pint of blood onto the floor. She managed to drag over to her bed and used it to slowly come into a somewhat upright position. As she clutched the frame of her bed, Arya suddenly was aware of the wounds on her body. But that was impossible! It was just another nightmare! She looked weakly around the room, then stiffed like a deer caught by a pack of wolves. A thread of blood came from the puddle. Slowly, it climbed up the wall opposite of her, and started to form words in an elegant, flowing script.

Not quite.

Arya shot up, swaying as the sudden movement caused her head to spin. "Kachina?!" No response. She looked around widely. The words made of blood suddenly started to shift. Some letters moved, some were added, and some disappeared, falling onto the floor.

No need to shout.

"How…?"

Don't worry about that. We have much to discuss about… let's call it a light punishment.

"LIGHT?" Arya's words were shrill and incredulous. "You tortured me all night!" The words again shifted into a new message.

You deserve far, far worse. But rest assured, I have many plans for you. I think I'll continue the traditional torture before moving to something more…interesting. Suddenly, the room changed into the cell she had spent so many long and painful months.

Arya watched as a scene played out in front of her. She started to hyperventilate. "NO, NO!"

Yes, yes. And remember, any injury in your mind will appear on your body. No magician will be able to heal them too. Only one person can, and after what you did to him, I highly doubt he will help you. The words turned into streaks of blood that trickled down the walls.

Arya immediately reached out, screaming for Eragon or Saphira. She couldn't take this! Not again! 'SAPHIRA! ERAGON!' For over an hour, she sent out her plea for help across the forest, but no one answered. Finally, an angry reply rang into her head. 'Haven't you caused enough harm Emerald Eyes?'

Arya sobbed in relief. 'Help…me…please!'

'Why?' The reply was spat out with venom.

Arya had no energy to reply. With the last of her energy, she sent the relevant memories over, then collapsed into her bed, spent and broken. She curled into a fetal position and cried herself into sleep. Hours passed in silence. Whimpers came from the bed, and new, fresh blood started to stain the snow-white sheets. Suddenly, the sound of hurrying footsteps became audible. It grew louder, then stopped outside the room. A hesitate question came through the wooden door. "Arya? Are you there?"

"Yes." The answer was whispered, and then grew slowly in volume. The door opened slowly at first, but was suddenly thrown out. The figure at the door rushed over. "Arya? By the gods, what happened?"

"Kachina."

Eragon brushed away the answer, and started to heal her many wounds. Several times, he had to rest. After an hour, Eragon finally finished, and drew the sheets over her shaking body.

"Thank you." Arya couldn't look into his eyes, ashamed. How could he even stand to be near her? After what she had done to him? But he had come here, and even had healed her. Arya felt a tiny grain of relief. Kachina had been wrong. Thanks the fates.

"Don't mention it." The answer was weary with strain. Eragon started to walk away.

"Wait, don't…" Her weak plea was cut short by the sound of a dragging chair. Eragon sat down by her bed, looking down at her with a troubled expression. 'This is getting out of hand.' he thought, as he put a hand over one of Arya's limp hands. She immediately grabbed it and held it, clutching it like a life rope. As Arya passed out from physical and mental stress, he called out to the culprit of this terrible crime. 'Kachina?'

'Yes?' The answer was happily returned. It sounded quite innocent.

'We need to talk.'