Inheritance Cycle 1. Chapter 1

Bane

"Why don't you try to be normal, or even _nice _for a change?" the young male elf said loudly.

"Why don't _you_ take a running leap off a cliff?" the female growled menacingly. The aura of danger around her was so clear to the other youthful elves that they backed away from the argument. It was times like these that they were all reminded of why they called her Bane.

"Because I'm not a deformed freak like you!" Navar shouted, answering her challenge.

Bane's arrogant rival didn't even have time to mutter a spell before the tall, thin female was on top of him. She brought her fist down on his face with perfect accuracy, and felt a satisfying crunch beneath her fingers as Navar's nose snapped.

"Enough! Nuanen, Navar, get off of the ground this instant!" All of the young elves dispersed immediately from around the two combatants, trying to look innocent as they hurried away from the scene. The older elf that had broken up the fight looked down sternly at the miscreants before him.

Navar's nose was mangled and bloody, staining the surrounding earth red. He cupped a hand gingerly to it, trying to stop both the bleeding in his nose and the tears in his eyes from coming out.

Bane, or Nuanen, as she was known to the older elves, was fuming; she was obviously not finished breaking the bloody elf's bones. Her blood-red hair and yellow eyes, added to her anger, made the young female appear even more frightening.

The elder took a moment to survey Navar's injuries before he healed them, and stood silent for a moment. Bane knew that he was waiting to hear the traditional greeting in the ancient language, but did not deliver it, even after the other young elf had.

"Nuanen, when will you learn that violence is not acceptable? You cannot simply break innocent peoples' noses whenever you get angry! What were you two even fighting over?" the old elf said angrily, clearly put out by the younger elf's rudeness.

"What makes you think that Navar is so innocent? He is arrogant, rude-"

"She started it, yelling and complaining about everything-"

"I did not! You can't accept anything different from yourself, and I'm the one who gets in trouble-"

"Enough! Navar, you may go; Nuanen, stay here." The old elf cut in. The handsome young elf looked smugly at his assailant and walked away without a sound.

"Nuanen, when will you learn to be responsible, like all of the other young ones? No one will respect you for being violent. Your parents would be ashamed!"

"I think my parents would rather I fought that cocky, arrogant, pompous fool than tangle with anyone else." Bane replied sourly. She didn't like the name Nuanen, preferring Bane, which fit her more comfortably. No one knew why, and no one asked.

"Why don't we ask them, then?"

The young female elf, which was actually only half elf and half human, grudgingly followed her elder to her home. She walked with a smooth gait, keeping pace easily with the slightly taller person. Her blood red hair stood in stark contrast to the starlight and raven of the other elves, as did her yellow eyes.

The pair walked in silence for a few moments, after which they reached a tall cliff, with a drop of at least a thousand feet. The valley below them was covered with ancient pine and oak trees. Between the trees was thick brush of every kind. Everything not inhabited by trees or small plants was crawling with moss, as though the plants all were intent on living in the valley, no matter where they had to grow.

Far to their left was a huge, ancient, gnarled pine tree with a house-sized hollow in the trunk. The elder turned and started off towards the pine tree when suddenly, his companion ran straight for the cliff and threw herself off of it!

"Nuanen, come back!" the elder called sternly, as though he was not in the least surprised alarmed that the half human had jumped from a monstrous height. Instead, he seemed rather frustrated that she had made the suicidal leap.

Bane grinned mischeviously as she fell with increasing speed, as though the whole thing was a big joke. The light child was hurtling toward the ground so fast, she would be skewered by the tops of the trees unless, by some miracle, she was saved. She did not even attempt a spell; in fact, she couldn't use magic. But that didn't bother her in the slightest. Because at the last moment, just as she could see every pine needle and hear every bird sing, Bane whipped out her wings and flew.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry the first chapter really sucked. i took about three hours to write this one, and this is pretty much the rough draft, so it probably sucks too. but its the first day of summer, so i get to type all day. woo hoo. anyway, just read it.**

_Where is she?_ Eragon thought irritably. He had been reading when the old elf Dathedr had knocked on his door and announced that his daughter had been fighting again.

_Stop worrying, little one._ The mighty sapphire dragon Saphira replied mentally. _I'll find her if I have to sleep on the_ _wind with one eye open._

Saphira was out searching for Nuanen, though even her sharp eyes had trouble making out the dark, midnight blue wings of the fifteen year old.

A beautiful elf who appeared to be in her early twenties paced the floor anxiously. She was not at all worried about her daughter's safety. Nuanen could take care of herself. Arya was angry that the young half elf had broken another elf's nose and then ran off.

" Why won't she be respectful, or at least take responsibility of her actions when she isn't respectful?" The elf suddenly burst out.

"I don't know, but soon we'll hear it from her." Eragon replied soothingly. The Dragon Rider was reminded of when the war between the Varden and Galbatorix had raged across Alegaisia, and Arya could be seen pacing her tent at night.

But that war was over, and the battle the couple was fighting with their daughter seemed much less likely of success. The winged girl simply would not listen to them, and the arguments and fights she got into were unending.

_This is going to be a long night_, Eragon thought wearily

***

Saphira glided silently on a soft breeze that cooled the night air. She had located Bane about half an hour ago, and after sternly reprimanding the hatchling-of-her-partner-of-her-heart, the magnificent sapphire dragon had had a private talk with the girl.

Everyone seemed to be of a different opinion of the heir to the elf queen's throne. Some thought that the wings on her back were shameful, and others thought that they meant something special.

Saphira was of the opinion that Bane, for that was what she called her, was part dragon, though no one agreed with her. The child could not control her magic, but as she probably relied on more than wings to fly, like dragons, she most likely had magic. And she did not just fly like wings were stitched on her back. She was a natural, like Saphira.

Of course, it was Saphira that had given Bane her wings when she was born. That might have had something to do with it.

But now the teenage girl was flying gracefully beside her, reluctantly convinced by Saphira to return that night.

The time flew by, it's rhythm tapped out by the beat of their wings, and soon the odd pair was back on the high cliff overlooking the valley. With a nod from the dragon, Bane landed smoothly and trudged up to the ancient pine tree.

Before the strange child reached the tree, however, her father, looking angry, emerged.

"Where were you?" he demanded. Had there been any onlookers, they would have never guessed that the red-haired teenager was the daughter of the handsome Dragon Rider.

Just then, before the girl could say anything in her defense, Arya came to stand before her.

"Dathedr told us that you were fighting again" she said coldly. Bane could see that she was in store for trouble.

"Did he tell you that Navar was being a brat again?" the yellow-eyed youth replied angrily. She barely managed to keep her temper in check, but she tried not to show it.

"I've told you a thousand times, Nuanen, you must learn to control yourself! Navar is allowed an opinion about whatever he wants, but you cannot break his nose for that."

"So he is allowed to think that I'm a freak, but I'm not allowed to believe that he is a rude, biased pile of dung?"

"Nuanen, you go to far!" Eragon said angrily. "Go to bed; we'll discuss this in the morning." This was more subdued and quiet.

Bane marched angrily to her bedroom. The family had been over the same arguments a thousand times; she would fight, argue, or get in trouble. Then, she would fly off and Saphira would convince her to come back in the middle of the night, and her parents would yell at her. Then, the next day, and awkward silence would settle, and they would all wait for the cycle to repeat itself. The troubled teenager sighed, and slept peacefully within moments.

***

"Eragon, when are we going to tell her? We can't keep her in the dark forever." Arya said worriedly. All of her former anger was gone, replaced by a tremendous sadness.

"I don't know, but we have to tell her soon. Who knows what she will do? And I'm not leaving unless I know that she is safe." The Dragon Rider replied. Worry for his daughter had set his face in a frown.

"We don't have much time; Nasuada said to leave soon. We have to tell her tomorrow." the elf princess decided regrettably. She hated the thought of leaving her daughter.

_If we tell her now, we could be gone by morning. The wind is favorable, and we could reach the Varden in two days if we go fast_, Saphira offered. The thought hung in the air, and the dragon's logic was, the couple admitted, good. Time was of the essence.

"I can't believe it's come so fast," Eragon murmured. He sank slowly down onto the bed, where the elf joined him. They suddenly felt old, despite the fact that they hadn't physically aged a day in years. Tears slipped slowly, silently, down the female elf's pale face. Eragon's tears fell down to mingle with those on Arya's hands, and they finally agreed on what had conflicted them for days.

They were leaving the forest.

They were leaving their home.

They were leaving their daughter.

**sorry i didn't mean to get all touchy feely on you at the end, but i like drama in a story sometimes. thanks to my three reviewers that i know of, and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everybody, I'm back! i was out of town playing softball all weekend and we didn't have a computer. thank you to all of my reviewers, you are awesome! all four of you. (to everyone who didn't review, yes that was a hint.) to Wolf Howls Echo Through Stillness, i hope i got your name right, and that is weird. if i'm copying someone's plot, please tell me. it would suck if i got sued for copying. :) anyway, my muse was on vacation today, so know that this isn't too good and the next chapter will be better. **

Bane was dreaming. She didn't know how she knew, but she was sure that the person before her could not possibly be real.

He was tall and strong, with a gray beard and hair. In his hands, the man held a gleaming blue sword that reminded the sleeping girl of Brisingr, her father's blade. The man was a warrior. That she knew.

Suddenly, a sapphire dragon appeared beside the man. _Saphira?_ She said mentally. There was no doubt that this mighty creature looked exactly like Saphira.

At the same moment, the man smiled. It was a friendly, wise smile that reminded Bane of a grandfather, though she had never had one. _Who are you? _, she tried to say. The words wouldn't come out of her mouth.

As Bane looked to the man for an answer, something strange happened. Something unseen moved. The very air, it's very soul, seemed to shift, and out of nowhere, came the sword. It was midnight blue, almost black, but could not be mistaken for black. It was perfect, a true warrior's weapon, like a Rider's blade.

The strange man began to speak, and Bane was so entranced by the sword he had conjured up, she almost missed his words.

"The storm is coming. Fight it."

And he was gone.

***

_Bane, wake up! Wake up! _Saphira's mental voice rang in the half elf's mind. She started at the touch of the dragon's conciousness.

_What's wrong?_ The girl asked with a growing sense of dread. She suddenly remembered her dream, and was filled with foreboding. Bane was sure that something terrible was about to happen.

_Your parents wish to speak with you, _the dragon replied.

The teenage girl slowly rose out of bed and dressed in her usual brown pants and clean white shirt. Bane then washed her face and fussed with her hair a little until she was satisfied. For some unknown reason, butterflies seemed to dance faster and faster in her stomach, as though this morning were more important than any other sunrise.

When she first stepped outside, Bane was confused. Saphira was wearing a light leather saddle, and several packages seemed to be in the saddlebags. She had only seen the mighty sapphire dragon wearing that particular saddle twice; once when her parents had taken her to meet her foster uncle Orik, and once to visit her father's cousin Roran and his family. _Where are we going this time?_ she thought.

Arya was pacing beside Saphira, as though anxious to be off somewhere. Eragon was waiting by the beautifully sung pine tree for his daughter.

"What's going on?" the unusual teenager asked without preamble.

The anxious parents exchanged the smallest glance, and the elf princess nodded to the Dragon Rider. She looked as though she was signing her own death sentence.

"Nuanen, we are going… _away_ for awhile." Eragon began. Before he could explain further, his daughter interrupted him.

"Where are we going?" Bane asked quietly, though she already knew that something was wrong in her question.

"We, your mother and I, must go to Ilirea. The Varden need us." The warrior looked as though he was choking on his words, as though he _wanted_ to choke on them, to somehow stop them from leaving his mouth. But instead they hung in the air, and Bane found herself unable to digest them.

"Why?" she asked. The young half human was shocked that she had managed to keep her voice level and even. She tried to look calm in front of her mother and father. On the inside, however, her stomach was contorting in strange knots, her throat was clogged by a lump, and her yellow eyes were hot with unshed tears.

"Someone is killing off the Varden by the hundreds. No one knows who. But someone is out to finish what a long dead man started." Arya answered. Bane didn't even need to try to guess who the long dead man was. _Fifteen years dead, to be exact._ She thought.

"I'm coming with you." the teenager said. Her voice was low and quiet, but a steely spark of determination was there. She would not let her parents go alone, she could not let them leave her and let her wonder each night if they were alive, if they were okay. She was going.

"No, you're not. You have only a sword to protect yourself with, and you would only be something for us to worry about. You are going somewhere safe, with all of the other young elves. The queen and the Varden all agree that Du Weldenvarden would be a huge target for the enemy we are facing, and we don't know their strength yet." Eragon said passionately. He sounded just as determined for Bane to go to safety as she sounded determined to accompany them.

"I'm not going to some secret place to hide while you are out at war. I can fight!" Bane found herself getting louder and louder until she was screaming her fear and anger and frustration into the air. She would go with her parents even if she was killed in the first battle.

_We must go,_ Saphira suddenly broke in. _I cannot carry all three of you, and you would not be able to keep up. We can't wait for you._

Bane would have listened to the dragon, her mentor and friend, at any other time, but now she was past caring about logic or reason. She refused to stay, she would fly behind Saphira if she had to. But the daughter of a Rider would not hide in a cave and wait for a war to end.

The girl started to yell as her parents climbed onto the back of the dragon, a wordless shriek that held all of her fear. And when Saphira finally flew away, three minds touched the now-crying half elf's conciousness.

_Goodbye._


	4. Chapter 4

Taru looked around the huge, richly furnished room in a mixture of fear and awe. On the walls hung moldy tapestries depicting gory scenes of men hunting, killing, and burning. Dark, forbidding black curtains hung across all of the empty spaces between haunting pictures, revealing none of the naked stone beneath.

_They should have put the curtains on the floor_, the ragged old peasant thought miserably. The cold stone chilled his dirty bare feet, and a draft that seemed to come from nowhere froze his poorly clothed body and made him shiver pathetically.

But the cold wind was not the only reason that the old man trembled. Before him was a throne of highly polished mahogany wood that seemed to whisper evil thoughts about the man that occupied it. He was tall and muscled, trim, but well fed. A small, wicked smile rested smugly on his handsome face, making him appear even more frightening.

"Huran, what is this piece of filth doing in my throne room?" the man asked quietly. His voice was smooth and alluring, but with a hint of malice that sent Taru to trembling again.

"My Lord, we found him trying to steal a loaf of bread from your baker," replied the man gripping Taru's left arm. The old man wanted to shake his head, insist that he was innocent, but he couldn't. Hadn't he always told his little granddaughter to be honest? She would want him to be brave.

"Well, you know how I feel about a thief," the Lord's smile became wider, exposing glinting white teeth. He was obviously enjoying himself as he watched the weak old man trembling in terror.

The large Huran chuckled evilly. Taru, his aged mind confirming what his gut had already told him, realized with horror that he was never going to see his granddaughter again.

The fat, wicked guard began to lead Taru to some place that the old man was sure he did not want to be. Huran ignored the condemned man's weak struggles and continued to drag him away. Taru fell to the ground, pleading for mercy, tears slipping shamelessly down his cheeks, but the stronger man only laughed, and Taru was lead away screaming.

Suddenly, a shaft of light appeared in the dark room, and for one fleeting moment, Taru saw an escape! But just as soon as the door had opened, it closed again to reveal a small young man dressed in soldier's apparel. He walked respectfully up to the evil Lord's throne, and on the larger man's command, recited a message.

"My Lord, Commander Raek says that the blue dragon is approaching Ilirea, accompanied by two Riders."

The Lord's spine chilling cackle filled the already menacing room. He glanced at Taru as though seeing him for the first time, and muttered something under his breath. The old thief gave one last, horrible shriek, and fell dead.

***

Bane awoke to a dull pounding in her ears. She arched her back and stretched her arms way out, and sucked in a sharp breath. Her back felt like a piece of wood bent too far, and the pounding in her ears gained strength until a drummer seemed to be beating a tattoo on her head.

The aching teenager looked around for her familiar room, and instead saw that she had slept outside. Her eyes were red and puffy as though she had been crying, and then the previous day crashed down on her in a rush of pain and disbelief.

After her parents had departed, the young misfit had immediately tried to follow them. But a half elf with wings, however strong, could not hope to keep pace with a fully-grown dragon. She had soon fallen behind and gone home.

_How could they have left me?_ Bane wondered. She had no way at all of following them. At least, no way that had a chance of succeeding. For the first time, the teenage girl felt totally helpless, and she did not like the feeling.

She couldn't fly to Ilirea, as Sahira was, because someone would surely be sent to the Varden to find her. At the same time, she could not travel there with any other elves, young or old. Bane was stuck.

As she was trying to figure out what to do, the lonely misfit could feel the pounding in her ears getting impossibly loud. Too loud. It took her a moment to realize that the sound was not only a headache.

Somewhere out of her gentle, tranquil forest, came the steady beat of drums.

_The war is coming_, Bane thought. Something in her, a deep-rooted instinct and pride, wanted so badly to accompany the other elves. But she couldn't.

Bane was started out of her deep thoughts at the sound of a soft footfall from somewhere behind her. She whirled around to face the stranger, and saw that it was Rhunon, the ancient blacksmith.

"Didn't your parents tell you that you were leaving? You should be packed already!" she asked in frustration.

"I… didn't get enough time. When are we leaving?" Bane asked grudgingly. She didn't want to admit to Rhunon that she had lost control when her parents had left, but she didn't want to all out lie, either.

"In an hour. Pack lightly; you're going to be running. Or probably flying, in your case. And don't make us wait!" the ancient elf replied irritably.

As Rhunon left, Bane noticed that the old blacksmith was wearing a worn leather pack, and a small _clink _emerged from the traveling bag when she stepped on a root. The female elf must have been taking tools with her.

Bane turned and walked slowly to the twisted pine tree that had been sung into a home. She ascended the steep set of stairs to her bedroom, and fished around under her bed until she found a black rawhide bag, and then tried not to dwell too much on her parents as she packed. It was not easy. From the bit of wood her father had carved to make a reed flute, to the first bow her mother had sung her, everything in the room seemed to have a story.

But Bane, after too much time spent reminiscing, finally filled the pack with supplies. A light woven jacket, a clean shirt and pair of pants, and her canteen all went into the bag. Onto her belt, the half elf strapped her sword, Garm, and her small knife. On her back was her bow and quiver of goose-fletched arrows. Her wings worked better than a blanket, and so she did not pack one.

Bane knew that she was too heavily armed for her destination, but couldn't help but think that she might need a weapon.

As she left her cozy little home, Bane stroked the wood almost lovingly, and wistfully remembered her mother and father laughing and smiling, and Saphira's deep rumbling chuckle. But she couldn't hear their laugh anymore, or the kind dragon's comforting purr.

She could only hear the drums.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took me so long to update. Most of my free time lately has been spent doing that thing the elves do instead of sleeping. i hope this chapter is better than the last few, i don't really like them. and please review. if you don't like it, just tell me why in a review, instead of just muttering about how bad it is. most of this was done in the last two hours, so it might be pretty bad. i wouldn't know, as i am kind of biased. so anyway, read and please REVIEW!!!**

_It's getting closer. _Bane relayed mentally to Ruhmorre.

_How fast are they going?_ Ruhmorre questioned.

_They'll reach us in about a day, I'd say. _The half elf reported promptly.

She angled her dark wings to the south and watched as the ominous dust cloud rippled like a storm cloud on the horizon.

Three days ago, after a two days of traveling, the fifteen year old had noticed the vague smudge about three days' run away while flying. At first the elves had simply stayed out of the way of the unknown travelers. But they had followed the little band, and Bane had combed the horizon for them ever since on the orders of Ruhmorre and Limruhn, the older warriors assigned to protect the young elves.

She knew that the mysterious people tracking them could be dangerous, but nevertheless, Bane was itching to face them. She had to _do_ something, something that wasn't flying in circles above the other elves and watching the sun sink at a snail's pace below the horizon. The other young elves all knew better than to practice sword fighting with Bane, as Limruhn had suggested, but they constantly practiced with each other when they stopped to rest. The outcast, however, was always left to herself.

***

Three hours later, Bane was still flying above the elves, occasionally practicing a new maneuver that she was trying to master, and watching the dust cloud approach ever nearer. The order had gone out half an hour ago that they would be running through the night, and Bane finally began to glide on eddies of wind, conserving her energy for the long flight.

Bane closed her eyes for a moment and let the wind puff playfully at her dark red hair. An almost cautious smile, the first one in days, spread across her face, and the outcast teenager felt a sense of belonging that she clung to for what could not have been more than seconds, hanging in the air with nothing but the wind under her wings.

When she grudgingly opened her eyes, the moment instantly ended, and Bane suddenly felt responsibility and sadness descend on her again. But she didn't have long to ponder it.

The winged girl was shocked when she checked the horizon again and saw that the strangers following them were spread out across the elves' path on horseback, hardly an hour's ride away!

_How did they travel so far in such a short time?_ she thought, amazed at their rapid pace. Bane knew, of course, why they were so close. Only magic could move them at such a speed, magic, and very powerful magic at that.

_They are getting closer_, the half elf informed Ruhmorre. She tried to keep the hint of fear out of her warning, but there were at least twenty men, for that was what they were, and only seven elves, five of which had been deemed too young to fight. And with a spellcaster of the incredible strength it would take to move the strangers along at such a pace, they had almost no hope of victory in an all-out battle. And on top of the elves' miserable fighting chances, they could obviously not outrun the unknown threat.

_How much time until they will reach us? What direction are they coming from? _Ruhmorre demanded. He sounded confident, but clearly did not expect the incredible speed of the people he spoke of.

_They are heading us off from the south, about an hour's ride away, at their speed, _Bane replied.

_Ride? _

_They are men on horseback._

_How many?_

_About twenty, I'd say._

Bane heard Ruhmorre curse mentally. He knew their chances as well as her.

_Come down. We don't want you to alert our presence. We should be able to see them soon. If we move fast, we might be able to turn back north and avoid a fight. _The older elf ordered. His mental voice hardly revealed the fact that they had no chance at escape, but could be forced into battle at a time of the other group's choosing.

Bane, after one last look at the mysterious line of people, dived out of the sky and landed effortlessly on the hard ground of the Hadarac Desert. She began to run as soon as her feet touched the ground without breaking the elves' pace.

After almost a full twenty-four hours of flying, Bane's legs felt strange and uncoordinated. It always felt odd to walk after a long flight, but she had never flown for so long, and the feeling was magnified by the time she had spent off the ground. As a result, the rather intimidating teenager stumbled awkwardly along, slightly behind the rest of the pack.

The elves' could now see the menacing troops behind them, to the south, and they seemed to be shrinking, getting ever so slightly farther away, and they could breathe easier. But then they looked more closely to the northern direction they were heading.

To their horror, twenty more horsemen were descending upon them from the north, closing in like lions around their prey.

And these horsemen were not shrinking in the distance.

When she turned around to look, Bane found that neither were the men to the south. There was nowhere left to run.

If they turned east or west, the herding horsemen would close in on them. The two older elves hardly had enough strength to fight for long, and the younger ones wouldn't stand a chance if it came to a long battle. The strange men held all the cards, and if they played any one of them, it would mean certain death for the smaller force.

Bane saw Navar, the young male she had fought only a week ago, slowly begin to draw his short, leaf-bladed sword.

_Don't. Let's see what they want, and if we can't give it to them peacefully. _Limruhn seemed to be communicating mentally with all of the young elves, though she obviously knew that whatever the men wanted, they could not possibly get it peacefully.

Bane let go of her own blade's handle, keeping her hand ready to whip it out of it's worn leather scabbard at any moment. She watched as the forty horsemen formed an impenetrable ring around them, and cursed silently. If they decided to shoot down at the little group, the latter would be dead in seconds.

After a moment of careful silence, one of the men in the ranks spoke up.

"What are ye doing, trespassing on my territory?" the man inquired in a rough, unwelcoming voice. He had an ample belly, the only one of the lot that did. His face was tanned by sun, and a sneer turned the tan face more ugly than it already was, which was quite a feat.

"This is no-man's-land," was Ruhmorre's only reply.

This seemed to amuse the man, and his sneer became deeper, more sinister. He peered curiously at each of the elves in turn, sizing them up. His eyebrows crept up when he noticed Bane, but he only looked for a few moments, until he saw her yellow cat's eyes.

"They're good enough. Take the younger ones. Leave the others."

At the wicked man's words, all hell immediately broke loose without warning. The soldiers drew arrows and shot down at the elves, felling Ruhmorre, Navar, Lyssa, and Avana with inhuman speed and accuracy. Bane deflected three arrows completely by accident when she whipped out her sword, and then the world seemed to shrink to the length of the deadly blade. It whirled and flashed, almost like a dancer, all of it's master's exhaustion forgotten in the heat of her first battle. But when Fadil and finally Limruhn fell to pure numbers, Bane knew she was done fighting. She flicked out her wings, knocking aside several more soldiers, but had hardly risen an inch when an arrow finally found her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry i took so long to update. i was out of town. i won't update for another couple of weeks at least, but review anyway! i had a lot of fun making people get hurt with this one and the last sentence is a little bloodthirsty, so don't flame me about the violence. it is rated t after all.**

"Hey! Wake up, or the driver'll have yer head!"

"He doesn't like late sleepers!"

"Yeah, and he's awful wi' that whip o' his!"

"Oh, it's no use! She's a goner."

The blazing desert sun shone down on twelve human children crouched around a strange sight. A tall, slim teenager lay unconscious on the scorched sand, her hair dyed redder by blood and ropes bound around her ragged, arrow-pierced dragon's wings. The children shook her and spoke as loudly as they could without being overheard by the large group of men loading saddlebags nearby, trying desperately to waken her.

The girl finally shifted and groaned, and the children all breathed a sigh of relief for her sake. She sat up suddenly, as though she had been doused with cold water, and the young humans jumped back, frightened by her yellow wildcat eyes.

Bane ripped off the ropes binding her wings as though they were cobwebs, and cursed when she saw that they were too torn to fly.

"Where am I?" she demanded.

One young boy began to answer her, when a fat man, tanned brown by the sun and carrying a vicious looking whip, marched towards them. Bane recognized the man as the leader of the gang that had attacked her and the other young elves. His ugly face was once again twisted into a cruel sneer, making all of the children cower in fear. All but one.

Bane had always been one to pick a fight with someone no one else had the nerve to challenge, and she almost always came out the victor. The daughter of Eragon could feel the missing weight of her sword and bow, but she didn't need a weapon.

"Well, what have we got here? A new arrival, no doubt." The man's mocking tone fueled Bane's rising anger at losing her comrades, and his sneer evaporated instantly as she crashed into him with the force of a lightning bolt. He fumbled with the whip, trying to get the ferocious female off of him while screaming for help from his gang. He finally managed to pry the snarling teenager away from his throat, which her teeth were dangerously close to. He lashed out with his whip, but she caught it with inhuman ease and whipped it around his neck. Bane began to pull, and the man's struggles slowly weakened, and she almost succeeded in strangling him, when the other men reached the fight.

They dragged Bane off of their leader, who collapsed, purple in the face, messaging his bruised throat and gasping for air. She continued to struggle, lashing out with hand and foot, snapping her teeth at anyone who came too close.

Bane managed to wreak havoc on the first few men to rush her, who weren't nearly as strong or as fast as the elves she had trained with, but she lost the slim chance she had when more men came, and the half-elf fell, still fighting, to sheer numbers. All of this the human children watched, wide-eyed, desperately wanting to but not daring to join the fight.

After she had broken four noses, three arms, and doled out black eyes, lost teeth, and countless bruises, Bane was finally extracted from the mass of men, panting and struggling against two men barely able to hold her. Her fists, clothes, hair, and teeth were all stained with blood she had spilled, mingling a little with her own.

The leader of the men, the one Bane had nearly strangled, barked out the order for quiet. He walked up to the half-elf with murder in his eyes, angry beyond reason, uncoiling the whip as he went.

He shoved his face close to Bane, and the winged girl could smell dirt and sweat and faint traces of alcohol, as though he had been drinking the previous night. His voice was dangerously quiet, as though it were a dam waiting to break and spill out a flood of wrath.

"Slaves don't _touch_ their masters unless they want to be beaten. And it seems that you have a death wish."

And Bane did the most stupid, impulsive, _human_ thing she could think of. She spat in his face.

"I'll make you scream your death wish before I kill you." she snarled.

The fat leader stepped back, for a split second afraid of the fury that lay in the eyes of the girl, and then barked to everyone and no one in particular, "Give her thirty!"

The men knew what he wanted, and the children cowered and covered their ears for what they knew was going to happen. Ropes were brought and Bane's ankles were lashed together. Her wrists were tied separately, and one man held each rope, so that the proud young girl couldn't move, could only stand helplessly as the fat man uncoiled the whip with a flick of his wrist. He stepped forward and ripped her the back of her shirt open, leaving the garment on but exposing her back.

The lead slaver pulled back his arm, and Bane waited for the first blow that came like a white-hot iron across her back, between her wings. She could only gasp at the pain of that first lash, but hated the pleasure she saw on the faces of the injured slavers. Bane shut her mouth, denying them the satisfaction of her pain. She stood, stony faced, as her back was scarred and her wings ripped again and again by the black, bloody whip. It took all of the teenager's training and strength not to fall into unconsciousness, or to scream out her hurt, but she did it. And when it was finally over, her bonds removed and her back bloody, Bane couldn't help but gasp like a fish out of water, and when she had her wits about her again, she was glad it had not been an elf holding the whip on her.

One of the children, a girl about two years older than Bane, handed her an old, brown burlap shirt that clearly hadn't seen a wash in too long a time. The half-elf accepted the offering gratefully, and pulled it on gingerly, with much groaning and wincing, over her scarred back.

"I'm Anne." She whispered, sticking a hand out.

"Bane." The newcomer said. She wasn't used to the human custom of shaking hands, but had studied it, and knew what was expected of her.

"Don't go messing with the driver. He isn't very… forgiving. You try something like that again and your back'll be raw meat. I seen him kill before with just twenty lashes." A hint of admiration colored the human's voice as she spoke the last sentence. Anne was a pretty girl; about four inches shorter than Bane, but bone thin, a trait all of the children shared. Her brown-blond hair was limp and streaked with dirt, and her friendly freckled face was covered with the dust of rough travel.

"I try something like that again at the right time and I could escape. My wings aren't for show, you know." Bane liked the older human girl. Not all people would befriend a troublemaker like the strange half-elf.

Anne opened her mouth to say something when a big, muscular slaver came by with a rope and knotted it around her neck. She didn't seem nervous or surprised; in fact, she stood totally still as he bound her to the other humans. Bane followed her example, and was rewarded by a sharp tug of the rope.

The tall teenager peered around, getting a good look at her surroundings for the first time, and saw that the rope around her neck was tied to two other lines that connected the other twelve children in three rows of four or five. All three cables were attached to huge packhorses, as though they were carts of luggage. Which, she supposed, they were.

With a kick of the slavers' heels, the horses were all trotting along, forcing the children to run behind them. Bane kept pace with the horses easily, but her back, still throbbing from her flogging, stung whenever she moved, caused her to run in strange ways, until she finally succumbed to the pain. The scars, stretched from running, probably wouldn't even scab over until nightfall, and they would crack again from the next day's running.

After half an hour of ceaseless jogging, Bane leaned forward and whispered to Anne, "Where are we going?"

"The driver said there was a man in the northern Beor Mountains that'd be willing to buy." She replied. Bane was about to question her further, but the human girl seemed to be saving her breath, and she decided to leave her alone.

A man in the northern Beors that was willing to buy. Buy anyone that could work. Bane had been told about slavery in Alegaesia, but her father and Saphira had worked hard to stamp it out. The man in the Beors must be one of the few left that were in hiding from the law. She groaned. The Beors would be hard to escape from, though if her wings were mended, it would be simple. But that would be still be difficult.

_Stop scheming. Find your escape, and then make it_, she told herself.

Bane ran without thinking for a while, she didn't know how long, but couldn't get it out of her head. She was a slave. Just the word seemed awful, as awful as the beating she had endured because of it.

It was then that Bane realized how tired she was. Just before the half-elf slipped into her waking dreams, she smiled. She was imagining how good the cruel driver's neck would feel as it snapped in her bare hands, and his screams echoed pleasantly throughout her waking trance.


End file.

Inheritance Cycle, Adventure, Fantasy