A/N: Wow, it's been awhile! HELLOOO! Sorry I am late (Understatement), but I… Don't really have an excuse besides writers block and lack of determination. And I have gotten hook on Lord of the Rings Online.

So anyway, I know some of the grammar in last chapter was messed up, but it wasn't my fault…mostly. I wasn't typing on my standard Word document. I was on the Doc Manager because I had chapter 21 saved on my computer at home and on the Doc Manager. I wasn't at home then, and nor was I in any place that had a computer that I could use. So gradually, out of a sheer desire to write, I whipped out my fancy iPhone 4 and got on the internet, and went to FanFiction. I began typing on my phone, on the Doc Manager, which as some of us may know that it does not correct grammar mistakes. Thankfully the iPhone automatically corrects spelling errors as well, but I just thought you should know.

*Lion King Music in the background* It's the ciiiiiircle of circles! Remember to read The Hidden God and Switching Lanes!

And lastly, this is not a memory chapter because I got writer's block on Part 2, so I'll just say they lost the battle, and everyone but Thorn, Saphira, Eragon, Murtagh, and Orik died. Orik went to Ilirea to make sure it's safe, and Eragon and Murtagh followed the Forsworn to Doru Araeba.

Disclaimer: I will eat spinach right after I find out that Middle Earth exists and I find a magic unipegasus inside of the world and I kill and I eat its flesh. So basically I probably will be eating spinach for dinner tomorrow night. NOT MINE!

A-R-Y-A

"Pick up the pace sis, we're almost there!" Angela shouted. Ever since… sometime, Angela had been calling her 'sis', short for sister. It had been two weeks since her first of many hormone episodes. Angela didn't mind it; on the contrary, the woman thought it was hilarious. Eragon said he didn't mind it either, but you could tell he wasn't particularly happy when he was healing a nasty bruise on his face. They had decided on traveling to Teirm, where it was most likely that they would be able to hide from the Varden and find a way to hinder the Empire's plans from there.

'There', would be described as Teirm, which was by the sea. The only time she had even seen the sea was when she had gotten onto the Talita, but she was asleep for the entire ride to Varnalond. But still, this was different. No islands, no sight of land anywhere on the horizon. But why was Angela telling her to pick up the pace? She was on a horse, that Eragon was steering…exactly.

She heard Eragon chuckle and then felt his warm breath against her ear. "Don't mind her. Day by day I continue to wonder how she is my sister."
This instigated a laugh from Arya, and to a normal elf, one would look down on that. Between the age of twelve and twenty-one she was shunned by the rest of the elven population. A regular elf would hide their emotions behind a mask, not letting anybody see what was going on in their head, thus the reason humans thought the elves totally emotionless. Arya on the other hand, displayed her emotions, and even though they couldn't punish her for showing emotion, they still hated her for it. In those nine years her mother had beaten her several times, only many times to be stopped by some magical force, a being known as Eragon, or she got tired. Either way, Eragon always, always healed her to the fullest, so not even a scratch remained. One time when he had healed her so much that he lost almost all of his energy, and he fell unconscious. It was the first time she had seen him sleep, or whatever you could call it.

"There you go little one, good as new," Evan said. You could trace the total exhaustion in his voice.

"You don't need to call me little one anymore Evan, I'm a lot bigger than what I used to be. I'm seventeen now." Arya replied.

Evan smiled weakly, "Yeah I know, but you'll always be little to me." He slowly sat down ** the floor and leaned against the bed.

"Evan are you alright?" Arya asked kneeling down next to him.

He slowly nodded and said, "Yeah, just a little… tired…" And with that said his head slumped to the side and his whole body leaned to the right, in her direction. Quickly she sat down against the bed as well brought Evan's head on her lap, so he would be more comfortable. She gently ran her fingers through his brown hair. When she had first met him seven years previously, it had been black, but he had told her he liked it better brown. She had agreed.

This moment was the first time in history that she had seen him sleep, or something akin to it. He began the mutter incoherently, and she began to wonder if he was really asleep or not. It was only a few minutes before she realized something was wrong. At first, it appeared he'd been sleeping peacefully, but then sweat started to appear on his brow. His head turned quickly this way and that, breathing unevenly with a terrified look on his face.

Arya lifted his head out of her lap and onto a pillow and after watching for several more seconds, she began to shake him. "Evan!" she yelled. "EVAN!" She yelled louder and louder, but to no avail. She immediately wished he hadn't healed her. If he wasn't so tired surely she would have been able to wake him. She shook him and yelled at him but it was no use. All that happened was that his nightmares seemed to get more intense: he tossed and turned, groaning and moaning, his body shaking and his brow soaked in sweat.
She realized that to wake him she'd have to enter his mind. Steeling herself, she stretched her mind out to his. As soon as she touched it, a terrible, all-consuming pain overcame her. Misery and heartbreak the like of which she had never felt. There were no words to describe the pain that was filling his mind.

After a few seconds she couldn't bare it any longer: she had to pull out. Ripping her mind away from his, she felt an immediate sense of relief, followed by a huge wave of terror: terror for Evan. He was in such pain, and yet there was nothing she could do to help him.

No. She thought. She couldn't leave him like this. Steeling herself, she extended her mind again to his.

The wall of pain hit her like a great wave: crushing and suffocating her; drowning her in misery. Doing her best not to lose herself, she tried to get through to him.

"Evan!" she yelled mentally. "Evan, wake up! Evan!"

She was dimly aware that she was crying: whether because of the pain she was feeling from Evan or because she was upset at him being so distressed she could not tell. All she knew was that she had to wake Evan up.

She shook him again and again, shouted at him physically and mentally, but he seemed totally absorbed in his terrible nightmare.

ERAGON'S NIGHTMARE

"Evandar!" Eragon shouted to get his attention.

The elf king immediately looked towards him and smiled, and right after that he collapsed to the ground. Eragon rushed over to the elf and got on his knees before him.

"Evandar, look at me!" Eragon shouted again. The elf looked straight at him and smiled.

"Eragon, so nice to see you. Now, before I die –."

"You won't die! I can heal you!" Eragon shouted crying.

"I just want you do one last thing for me…" Evandar sputtered weakly.

"Anything," Eragon said.

"Look over my little Arya for me, you have met her before. I have told her the same words I have told you. Watch over her, please, wiol eka." Evandar said.

The dream shifted. Eragon now saw Arya, the beautiful elven princess, young even by human standards. Her cheek was crimson red; she had obviously been slapped hard, or punched. Blood trickled down from her brow. Every inch of her body seemed to be battered and bruised. Who would do this?

With rising fury, Eragon realized it had been her own mother.

Arya was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. He had to help her, alleviate her pain; he would do anything...he had promised.

"How could you let this happen?" yelled Evandar, looking accusingly at Eragon. "You promised you would keep her safe!

And now Eragon began to see other things: things that he had never seen before.

Islanzadi was hitting Arya. Arya was falling to the ground. Arya tried to run out the door, but Islanzadi held her there, slamming the door repeatedly on the girl's body. Arya was crying on the floor, calling for her father...

Her father... he had promised her father...It was his fault...

Islanzadi was screaming at her daughter, telling her how she was a disgrace to her and how her father had been a fool...Arya was sobbing, shaking her head...

"No..." she kept saying. "No!"

No! Thought Eragon. He had to help her, he had to save her, he had promised, he couldn't let her be hurt...he'd promised, but he cared to...he loved her...

Islanzadi said something particularly insulting about Evandar, and Arya stood unsteadily, raising her hand...Islanzadi yelled in fury and shoved her back into the wall, and she crumpled to the floor...

"NO!"

Eragon had awoken in a cold sweat with Arya looking down on him.

"Evan, are you alright?!" Arya shouted.

"Just peachy," Eragon whispered. And before Arya could react, he put his left hand on the side of Arya's head and said lowly. "If Islanzadi ever hurts you, and I mean this, I will kill her. I made a promise to keep you safe, and I will keep that promise until my final breath."

Arya's eyes widened, but she said nothing. No doubt she had never seen a version of Eragon like this before; menacing and protecting.

With her eyes glistening with tears, she nodded her head slowly.

A/N: Well that's over. I really apologize for the extremely late update, and once again, I have no excuse for it. Thanks to Middleearthmidget for writing a good 800 words of this chapter, and finally kicking my ass into gear to write the gorram thing. And I got a poll on my profile that you guys should vote on, SO GO AHEAD!