Inheritance Cycle 1. Prologue

Half Breed

Summary:

Half-elf, half-human children exist throughout Alagaesia. However, they have become skilled and cunning at blending in with whichever race they choose to live among. Brother and sister, Kirian and Aine, are two children born of one elf parent and one human parent. Time and tragedy cause the death of their parents, burying the secret of their children with them. Alone but for each other in the world, Kirian decides to go and live among humans while Aine sets out to live among the elves. Every tenth year, brother and sister return to their old home for a reunion. The adventures and experiences they share while apart cause them to realize how disjointed and scarred Alagaesia has become under the tyrannical rule of Galbatorix. Eventually, they set out to find the Varden and take part in the events unfolding in the Empire.

The idea for this story came from a recent Q&A with Christopher Paolini and :

**Mike:** Last question - Guest123 asks: **Have half-elves (human/elves or otherwise) ever existed? If so, do any exist now?**

**Christopher:** They have existed, although most weren't able to have children of their own. As for whether any exist now . . . let's just say that if they do, they would have become very, very skilled at blending in with whatever race (elves or humans) they had chosen to live among. Half-elves, half-humans have much-extended life spans, but they aren't immortal like full-blooded elves. 

Prologue

Kirian and Aine stood over their parents' graves. Their father, buried on the right, had died many years earlier of old age. But their mother, now freshly buried on the left, had died tragically. Mistaking her for a deer as she ran swiftly, almost at a blur with her inhuman speed, though the forests at the edge of Du Weldenvarden, two hunters had shot her with their arrows. One pierced her thigh, the other her heart. When the hunters had discovered that is was not a deer but an elf, the men had run away in fear.

Wild lilies slipped from Aine's pale hand, onto her mother's grave. She and her brother were alone in the world. They were of two different races, yet belonged to neither. Since their birth, their mother had concealed and protected them well from others of either race.

"Half breeds, they will call us," Aine whispered.

Kirian took her small hand gently in his. "No," he insisted, shaking his head. "We will each choose one race to live among. We will blend in, be one of them."

"But what of our appearances?" she asked, raising her soft brown eyes to his handsome, strong face.

"What differences their are between them and us we will alter with magic," he explained to her.

She nodded her head, glancing away at the forest. "Where will you go?" she asked.

He pondered her question for a moment. "I will go to the humans," he finally answered. "And you?"

"I will go live among the elves," she said, her voice full of sadness.

Together they stood in silence, surveying the small dwelling where they had spent their childhood, a small dwelling sung out of the wood of a tree as all elven houses were. There they had spent countless nights by the fire, listening to stories told by their old father. Countless mornings they had awoke to their mother singing. But not anymore. What once was, was no longer.

"I will miss you," Aine said then, breaking the silence. Kirian turned and pulled her into his arms, giving his sister one last tender hug.

"Meet here, in this very place, every tenth year?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Yes," she agreed, tears streaming down her face.

"Ah, Aine," Kirian whispered, releasing her to wipe away her tears with his thumb, "elves never cry."

"At least, not in front of anyone," she countered weakly.

"I shall miss you, sister-mine. Take care of yourself, Aine girl." He smirked, then amended, "Aine-elf."

"See you in ten years?" she offered, sniffling to keep more tears from falling.

Kirian hummed, his dark eyes appearing even darker as a shadow of sadness passed over them. "Ten years," he repeated.

"Atra du evarínya ono varda," she began the elven farewell.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin," he continued.

"Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro fra rauthr," she finished.

Kirian let go of his sister's hand and turned to walk away from the home he always knew, out of the forests, and into a land of men he had never known. Aine watched him fade into the distance before she too turned away and disappeared into the mists of the forest, away from the only home that she had ever known, on towards a race she had never lived among. And, thus, brother and sister wandered away in separate directions to separate worlds, each to live among a different race of people.

But every ten years, they would return.


	2. One  Kirian

One—Kirian

Kirian's heart stayed behind even as his feet moved forward. His heart ached to leave his sister behind in the forests of DuWeldenvarden—or rather, his chest throbbed where his heart should have been. He wasn't so sure anymore if he even had one to begin with, leaving his sister to the fate of the elves without a second thought. _I shouldn't have left her_, he thought miserably.

Despite his sorrow and his self-loathing, his feet continued moving forward, each accursed step as though of their own accord. _Perhaps I do have a heart,_ he thought wretchedly. _A heart for my spirit, but I have no soul for my body._ An elf—man—needed both, did he not? Philosophizing didn't make him feel any better, didn't release the heavy band restricting around his chest. As he trudged ahead through the forest, the ancient trees began to give way to young, limber ones, signaling that he was nearing the fringes of the human world.

Kirian stared at his toes as he walked, mesmerized at his own betrayal. He feared that if he raised his eyes, even the trees would point their accusations at him, breaking their melancholy, trance-like silence. Instead, he stepped around the bushes when they appeared before him. The sweetly soft forest carpet of old pine needles gave way to the prickly jaggers of bushes, weeds, and thorn hedges, marking the flimsy barrier from his old world of magic to the new one among the humans. Still, he never took his eyes off his feet, even as he felt the magic fading away behind him. Though his mind was set and his choice made, he still could not bear to look at the forest around him, the home he was leaving—and the sister he was abandoning. He swallowed a sob and blinked away threatening tears at the last thought, trudging dismally ahead.

Gradually, the land flattened into a sea of wispy, straggly tufts of grass. Finally glancing up, Kirian almost gasped. His dark eyes took in the wide, open expanse of the humans' land, the golden sunset spreading its orange and red wings like a giant dragon across the vast sky. Never in all his life had he seen such a vast, wide open space. He forced away the fear that suddenly threatened to choke and overwhelm him. The trees had always had a calming, protecting presence surrounding him in the forests of his childhood. As he gazed across at the sky, fascination replaced his fear. He had finally seen where the sky met the earth. In the forests, such a thing could not easily be seen—the thought left him rubbing his neck, a faint memory of a fall from a tall tree flitting through his mind. Had not the trees bent their bows to break his fall, he may not have been alive to see the sun setting in the far off sky.

_I have found where the sky meets the earth_, he thought comically—_or is it poetically?_ he wondered. _I will tell Aine when we next meet again, ten years hence._ The thought heartened him, his sister's face coming to mind. She would enjoy hearing his first, silly impressions of the world outside their own, he was sure.

On impulse, he decided to make his camp there, to sit and watch the sunset and lie out under the open stars. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the heady scent of far-off wheat fields mingling with the scent of the pines of the forest behind him.

Gathering kindle wood from the fringes of the forest, Kirian lit a small fire murmuring the words of magic in the Ancient Language. As the sun melted into a graying purple, Kirian sat beside the fire and murmured the magical words that would alter his appearance. He wished that he had a looking glass, but his vanity would have to go without one. As he uttered the words in the Ancient Language, he felt the change in his face—his muscles quivering and his skin tightening and tingling as they knit themselves into an altered shape.

When he was finished, he traced his fingers over his face and along the edges of his ears. He gasped as he felt the foreign curve. He instantly noticed a slight reduction in his hearing, but it was not enough of a difference to worry over. He felt the wider curve of his jaw, a dark stubble now faintly beginning to grow. His nose was still the same—strong yet elegant in shape. His lips were the same as before too—less full than an elf's yet lush enough to make any woman's knees quiver when he smiled—well, that he had yet to find out for certain, but he thought they probably might. His dark eyes slanted less and made them appear even darker in the shadow cast from his brow, giving him a moody, dangerous appearance. He noticed too that his forehead was a little broader, and overall, Kirian felt satisfied with the results, though he could not see himself as he now was.

As the sky mellowed into a darkening purple, a chill breeze swept over him, buffeting his thin, delicately woven clothes and tossing his hair in the air. Suddenly, he remembered his dark, long locks. Human males never wore their hair in quite so long a style, he remembered, thinking of his father.

Pulling his hunting knife from its sheath at his waist, he held his dark locks in his hands and sliced it off just above his shoulders, hoping that it was the proper length for a human male. Fingering the cut hair, he thought of his mother and her dark hair. She had named him Kirian because he had her night black hair and the dark, dark eyes of his father—and because Kirian meant 'child of a dark place.' He absently wondered if his name hadn't had a double meaning. He had been born of life and light, but being a half breed meant dark times must surely lie ahead for him.

Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts away. He was a man now. No half breeds allowed in this world, so he would become a man. He would live among them and belong. He had to. Because it was the way of the world, the way of survival.

Kirian lay on his back and watched the stars twinkle awake in the black sky. He wasn't sure where he would go, what he would do, who he would meet—friend or foe—but there beneath the star-filled sky, he wasn't worried. _What could be so bad in a world full of such beauty?_ Even as he thought it, he knew of his naivety, but on a night such as this, he could not help but dream and be hopeful.

Ice. Wind. Screams.

Kirian jumped awake, a bone-deep chill shaking his core. Squinting through the rain, he could see nothing further than a few feet ahead, the rain so heavy. The world was a slanted line, water falling in torrents to the over-soaked ground. The wind howled over the lonely prairies, raising the hairs on the back of Kirian's neck. Thunder rumbled across the night sky, and far away lightening crackled to the ground. He felt caught in an endless nightmare.

Leaping to his feet, he stumbled as he collected his few belongings together, able to see only by his heighten elvin sight and the split second cracks of lightning. Never before had he been beneath such an angry storm. In the forest, the trees had sheltered him; now, in the wide open prairies, there were no sheltering branches, no friends to lend their help.

Sprinting through the angry rain, he slipped and fell in the mud. Soaked and frozen, he pushed on through the storm, stumbling and falling often. Unable to see, he walked blindly ahead, crawling on hands and knees when he fell. At last, his hands brushed a solid wood surface. Circling it, he searched with his hands for an opening into the small shelter. At last, grasping a handle, he shoved open the heavy wooden door, slamming it shut against the wind behind him.

Taking a shuddering breath, he collapsed with weary limbs into a pile of sweet smelling hay. With no light, he could just only make out the shapes of stalls in the far corner and tools hanging along the far wall. Unsavory smells alerted him to the presence of animals.

Too weary to keep his eyes open, Kirian rolled into a shivering ball and fell fast asleep, safe and sound out of the pounding rains and howling winds.

When early morning finally came, Kirian still lay in an exhausted sleep upon the hay. He heard the singing of the birds, the stirring of the animals, and the crow of the rooster, but still he could not cause himself to rouse. Even as sunlight filtered into the small barn, he could only lay and smile as the sun warmed his still chill body. Not even the sharp creak of the barn door alerted him to danger.

"Get out of my barn, you filthy heathen!" a dark voice boomed. A heavy fist came down on his back. Kirian started fully awake as he was thrown into the air, landing hard on his back. Over him stood a burly man with fists the size of a sledgehammers and a murderous scowl on his face. "What makes you think you can steal my food and sleep in my barn, eh?" the angry man thundered, his fist raised high in the air to strike.


	3. Two Kirian

**This chapter took a sudden turn for the comical. I didn't mean for it to play out that way, but I suppose an elf's first impressions in a "barbaric" human society would be… well, comical. Enjoy! ^^**

Two—Kirian

"By Eragon's head!" Kirian cried out in fear, dashing away from the man's fists, slipping on the fresh hay beneath his feet. With a wordless whoop and a hard thump, he fell onto his butt and scrambled his feet against the earthen floor to scoot himself further away, backing into the hay.

"Eragon?" the burly man thundered, his fist raised high raised high over his big round head. "I don't know any Eragon, so you sure as better hope he'll be willing to cart your remains out of here after I'm done with you!"

"How barbaric!" Kirian huffed at the man, kiltering sideways as he fumbled to find his footing beneath him. Almost immediately he sank into the straw, hay up to the mid thigh.

"_Barbaric_!" the man repeated. "I'll show you barbaric, you useless piece of crud!" He advanced upon the trapped youth, grabbing him roughly by the collar of his tunic.

Unable to move a step in the deep hay, Kirian raised his arms about his head in defense and shouted in protest. "Sir, I meant no offense!" He didn't mean to start a fight on his first day in human lands.

"What's going on here?" a matronly voice cut through the din. By the door stood a middle aged woman, her arms full with a basket of eggs. Though she had gaunt cheeks, she had a round stomach, which Kirian wasn't sure if it signified pregnancy or fatness as he had never seen a pregnant woman in all his days. At the woman's elbow stood a teenage girl, tall and slight with a dash of freckles still across her cheeks.

Turning to peer over his shoulder, the burly man shouted, "I found a thief in my barn! And I intend to cut his ears off!" Kirian noted that the man held no knife nor wore one on his person, but he did not mention it aloud, lest the man take it into his mind to rip his ears off with his bare hands.

"Wait, Daddy! He's kinda cute!" the young girl cooed. Kirian made sure to shoot her a dazzlingly smile for his gratitude. The effect was immediate, as her eyes widened and she only smiled more broadly.

"_Cute_!" The man's face turned dark purple – _as dark as a __**radish**_, Kirian thought, abhorred. He tried his best not to visibly shrink away from the putrid man, lest his distaste be mistaken as fear. _Showing fear to man is as dangerous as showing fear to a wolf_, he reminded himself.

"Don't kill him, daddy," the young girl pouted, stamping her feet as she approached her father and yanking his fist down from its menacing position above the youth's head.

"Yes, I concur with her!" Kirian agreed emphatically, trying to smile pleasantly. "Please, do not kill me." The man's fist only tightened on the front of his tunic.

"Oh, Leonstad, leave the poor boy alone," the woman admonished, lumbering slowly forward and placing herself in front of her husband and between him and the youth.

Kirian liked her suddenly and immediately. "You, my lady, are a true rose among thorns."

The burly man's face turned red. "Don't you sweet talk my woman!" His fist raised into the air for the strike.

"Leonstad, that is enough!" the woman demanded, her steady hand on his chest. "There's nothing wrong with a young man paying a compliment when it is due."

The man calmed but did not release Kirian. "Well, what are we supposed to do with him?"

"We are going to invite him for breakfast. Poor boy, I'm sure you're half starved and half froze to boot." At her words, the man finally released him and stepped begrudgingly away.

"Oh, yes! A visitor at last!" the teenage girl burst out, chatting so fast Kirian could barely understand her words over her accent. "And a boy to boot. I knew those were my lucky star in the sky last night! Marian said that I –"

"Here, boy," the middle-aged woman cut it, "you carry this inside for me and then follow Leonstad around for the morning chores. When that's done, you come on in with him and eat with us. Breakfast will be ready soon." Her orders delivered, she pushed the basket of eggs into his arms and lumbered out of the barn, drawing her chatting daughter away with her to the house.

With the sudden subsidence of chaos, Kirian finally took in his surroundings in the morning light filtering in through the cracks in the barn ceiling. The wooden structure was old, but the beams were large and solid. Kirian stood by the hay beneath a vaulted loft. What was above he could not see. The other side of the barn stretched into a long row of stalls, holding the various prattling livestock. To his side, nails and hooks covered the wall, tools and tack and articles of cloth hanging from each one. Beneath them were wooden containers built into the wall.

Leonstad's booming voice made him jump. "Come, lad! Else I'll take your delay as an insult!"

Kirian scrambled after the man as he strode out of the barn, careful not to jostle the eggs in the basket in his arms. "Oh, no, sir, I wouldn't mean to insult you for all acorns in the elven forest."

"_What_?" the man bellowed. Kirian ducked, just missing the man's knuckles as the he swiveled on his heel and his arms swung out as he glared behind him. Eying the youth, he growled. "Don't you dare cause any trouble around here, or I swear I shall take you head off!"

"I'm quite fond of my head, so I can easily agree not to cause any trouble," Kirian promised, nodding gravely.

Scratching his head, the man muttered, "You sure are a strange fellow."

Kirian hurried to follow the man out of the barn and into the bright morning sunlight. He found himself smiling then, for he had always been partial to the morning sunlight.


End file.
