A/N: (Yawë means "trust".) Okay so this is my first multi-chapter story that I've posted on FF, so please be nice. This entire story takes place after Brisingr (except the prologue, which is three years prior), and it's my version of the 4th book. So I'm going to put in my own interpretations of the riddles CP has given us from the first three books. (i.e. who is Tenga, how does Angela know him? Where is the vault of souls, how to defeat Galbatorix, what the Menoa tree is going to demand, who the women where who Angela cast the dragon knuckles for, etc) But Eragon isn't the main character of this story, so the majority of chapters won't be in his POV.

IMPORTANT: Caellyn's true name is Mariel, which Galbatorix tells her in one or two chapters. (I'm telling you now so as to avoid any confusion) Also, she is 14 when she's taken from Earth, but 17 for the majority of the story.

DISCLAIMER: I in no uncertain terms own the Inheritance Cycle or the characters/plot therein (else I wouldn't have sold my precious book off to a movie company who butchered it) however, I do own the plot of this story and any characters I make up. (including Caellyn/Mariel)

Yawë

Prologue: A Tear in the Fabric

"That song you softly sing is keeping you from breaking."

-Belle of the Boulevard, Dashboard Confessional

Three Years Prior to Brisingr:

Being alone wasn't such a bad thing. In fact, Caellyn quite relished that silence. It was preferable to the interminable presence of those in her home.

Home.

Caellyn snorted dryly at the word. She didn't belong and she never had. The people she lived with weren't her family and they didn't even have the common decency to pretend they were. She was an outcast; of that much she was certain.

Caellyn wasn't normal and she didn't fit in. Anywhere. That was mostly due to her appearance and overwhelming intellect. Naturally there were always the slight other things. The things that reminded her, quite viciously, that she didn't belong: her reflexes were too fast, she could hold her breath far more than the humanly accepted norm and then, of course, there was the staring. If Caellyn concentrated on something too fervently, then something would happen. Something bad. She never knew what to expect – it could blow up, get set on fire, or disappear entirely. But that wasn't all. Due to her great intelligence, solutions to vexing problems were solved almost instantaneously. Physical exertions didn't wear on her as they did others.

When Caellyn closed her eyes, she liked to pretend she was normal. Or at least, that people would think she was normal. But closing her eyes didn't cover the only abnormal characteristic she bore. Hiding those piercing eyes didn't cover up her stunning features – the features that were far too defined to grace that of a normal person. This wouldn't have been as much of a problem if she'd been in a normal school. But she was in an all-girls school and that only exacerbated her friends issue. They all resented her for her uncanny wit and only ostracized her further because of her alien beauty.

But Caellyn could have dealt with that. She could have dealt with all of this if she'd had a loving family. A family to tell her she was normal…if she'd had parents who were alive. If she hadn't been forced into a foster family that hated her even more than those at school. But she couldn't control that. She couldn't control any of it. She was powerless, and she hated feeling powerless. She couldn't fix any of it.

And this was the exact reasoning which had her wedged between two cramped, not to mention uncomfortable, walls. Isolated. Her one area of refuge. She'd found her secret hiding place a few years back and, much to her relief, her foster family had no clue of its existence. It was just a small cubby hole hidden in her closet, behind boxes that weren't hers. The small door blended in perfectly with the wood around it, making it an ideal hideout.

"Caellyn, you get down here this instant!" A high pitched screech resonated through the floorboards, echoing through Caellyn's ears. She groaned internally, cursing at the sound.

Before she could consider ignoring the voice and hoping it would go away, she heard the pounding of feet on stairs. She wouldn't risk hiding if it meant they'd come up looking for her. Discovering her one area of solitude was not an option.

Caellyn quickly rushed from her hiding spot, and in a quick fluid movement she'd placed the door back over it. She stepped from her closet and swiftly shut the closet door behind her, just as someone opened the door to her room. She bitterly nodded that no knocking was involved.

"Yes?" Caellyn sputtered out, still somewhat breathless from her dashed escape. She leaned against the closet door, hoping he wouldn't check it. She hadn't had the time to cover it with the boxes and could only hope it wouldn't be examined too carefully.

"Yes?" Came back the mimicking response. It was Fred, her deranged foster brother.

Fred crossed his arms as he supported his weight against the wall adjacent to the closet. When Caellyn refused to give him an answer, or even admit that she'd heard him, he prompted her again, his voice snippier than before. If that was possible.

"Yes what?"

Silence.

"Yes… brother," came her grudging reply.

He leaned down over her, a light smirk on his proud features.

"Much better, little sis." Fred reached his hand out towards her and, instinctively, Caellyn flinched away. She bit back the urge to grab his hand and slap him soundly across the face. Noticing her reluctance, he instead changed venues and ruffled her brownish-black hair in a rough, mocking and – quite far from loving – manner.

Her stunning violet eyes narrowed into slits as she glared up furiously at her would-be brother. Glowering purple clashing strongly against cruelly entertained green ones.

Once more Caellyn battled the urge to slap him. She often got this urge under his constant barrage of unnerving behavior. This boy before her was no more her brother than the parents waiting downstairs – most assuredly to lecture her for something he had done – were her family.

"What are you blaming me for this time?" Caellyn whispered scathingly through clenched teeth. Sometimes she secretly wished she'd just play along with his twisted attraction to her and then he'd stop blaming her for his misbehavior. Yeah, she had a great foster family. Since Caellyn constantly rejected Fred's advances, he would always find a way to punish her. He'd go out of his way to set her up. Even committing crimes he normally wouldn't have done. But she wouldn't give into him. He was a disgusting pig who she greatly desired to beat the living daylights out of.

"You are disgusting," Caellyn hissed out furiously. Her clear vehemence had no noticeable effect on him though. He was used to it.

"Oh my little sis," he whispered, leaning in much too close for her comfort. She made to take an involuntary step back, but only hit the closet door, "how little faith you have in me."

"It's well warranted." She shot back bitingly. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then,

"Now get away from me," she snapped.

"Why?" He moved in even closer. Caellyn could smell his over-bearing cologne and did her best to ignore him, staring at the wall furthest from him. "Does it bother you?"

He moved in even closer, pressing his forehead against the side of her head, as she turned hers away at just the right time.

"Yes." She said clearly, and there was no mistaking the venom in her voice. He made no move to put any distance between them.

There was a creak in the wood.

He turned about to face the small little girl who had emerged from the hall, silent upon the stairs, her big blue eyes took in the scene quickly. He swiftly moved away from Caellyn and she relaxed, her tense shoulders melting down. He wouldn't dare try anything with her when his real sister was around.

"Amy!" Caellyn struggled even harder now to put up her façade as she went over to the little girl and embraced her. There was of course a reason she allowed herself to endure her disgusting foster family. Amy.

Although she was only five, possibly six years of age, Caellyn felt a strange connection with her, and was loathe to leave the littler girl without her big sister…even if they weren't blood.

"Mummy wants you!" Amy cried out into Caellyn's dark brown hair.

"Oh?" Caellyn played it dumb, for Amy's sake. Her mind was whirling as she tried to remember all the recent inappropriate things Fred had gotten himself into.

"She's not happy," Amy informed her, looking up into Caellyn's face with her solemn blue eyes.

"Oh." There was no masking the dread in that single word as it fell from her mouth.

What the hell has Fred gotten me into this time?

"We're waiting!" A voice shot imperiously up at her, stressing unnecessary syllables to form a quite unnatural phrase.

Caellyn felt her insides turn cold and, grudgingly, she descended the first flight of stairs. She could hear Fred snickering behind her and convulsed slightly. This would not go over well. Amy ran ahead of them both, rushing down to her parents.

Caellyn made a move to follow her, but someone grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Fred. She groaned.

"What? Going to give me some warning as to what it is you did? It might be more believable for you if I actually knew what I'm going to be accused of."

"I could take the blame for this one," he murmured, intently gazing at Caellyn.

"No," she answered bitingly. He didn't seem too surprised.

"You didn't even hear me out," He quirked his eyebrows cockily.

"Get down here. Now." This time the voice was distinctly masculine. Then Caellyn really knew she was in for it. Her father never personally punished her. She'd never been deemed worthy enough. Caellyn looked at the older boy in horror, gasping out,

"What did you do?"

"Interested now?" He shot back cockily.

She snorted, "In you?"

Several moments of silence dragged by as she fumed up at him. Then she finally answered.

"We both know the answer to that." With a turn on heel she stalked off, taking whatever minute solace she could in his speechless silence. He'd thought she'd give in this time. Then a horrible thought struck her, sinking her slightly smug mood: if he thought she would give in…then he did something big.

Caellyn entered the room where the voices where coming from, that of medium size. There was a fire crackling and a couch across from it. Upon the couch was sitting the Mother and the voices drifted to a standstill as she entered. The Father was leaning against the couch, facing the same direction of the mother. Both facing away from Caellyn.

She knew the routine quite well; she would have to walk in front of their vision – so as not to disturb them into moving themselves – where she would be shamelessly lectured and told how worthless she was. In front of Amy and Fred.

Caellyn took a calming breath and waited for the screaming to begin.

"Well?" The Mother prompted austerely, refusing to look into her foster child's frightening eyes, "What have you to say for yourself?"

"I don't –"

"Wretch," The Father spat, his grey eyes glittering menacingly. Caellyn bit back a defense, knowing it would be far worse if she didn't keep it to herself. He stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger in her face.

"This is the last time." His voice, however quiet as it was, held just as much menace. Again, Mariel held her tongue and bit back the insults she would just love to throw at them.

For Amy. For Amy. For Amy. She chanted it over and over.

The father slammed something down on the table, and viciously studied her face – looking for recognition. She glanced down quickly at the table and her stomach lurched, anger flooding to her face.

Drugs?

Fred had gone too far this time.

"Frederick was right," The Mother breathed, clearly shocked. She had mistaken the heat in Caellyn's face for embarrassment.

For Amy. For Amy. For Amy.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The whisper was filled with absolute hate. Loathing. Caellyn was at a complete loss for words.

Drugs.

There would be no coming back from this. She was done. The Parents would have preferred her to be arrested for public prostitution and even personally brought to their door in police handcuffs, than have her be involved in drugs.

"Drug – addicted – filth." His voice came out as cold and menacing as she imagined the Devil's would.

Caellyn could feel her throat tightening and getting dry. But there was no way she would give him the satisfaction of her tears.

He let her guess at his next words for a few moments, allowing his tone to sink in. Then, "you're out."

"Father," Fred began, for once sounding remorseful. Apparently he realized he had gone too far this time too. "Maybe you shouldn't –"

"What?" Caellyn rounded on him, feeling a righteous fury bubble up in her chest. It was almost bestial. "Disappointed you won't have anyone to blame anymore?" Her voice was a mere whisper, but she saw it cut through him, "Just go back to your bloody perfect life where you do drugs, get wasted and blame me for everything. When are you going to realize," Her voice dropped even lower, so she could easily disguise her pain, "your stupid plan isn't going to work? I'm never going to fall for you." Caellyn kept her voice low enough, so that only he could hear her.

"How dare you." It wasn't a question. She closed her eyes tightly and turned back around, to face the Father.

"How dare you," he repeated, "blame my son? After everything we've done for you. And you have the gall to blame your misconduct on Frederick."

Caellyn opened her eyes, releasing the full power of her murderous gaze. He flinched involuntarily. No one liked those eyes.

"You aren't human," He sneered at her, "And you're a pathetic excuse for one too. Tell me," He exhaled condescendingly, sneering all the time, "do you even feel?"

He raised his hand behind his head and then brought it forward, slapping her across the face with a resounding smack. His black leather glove did nothing to lessen the blow. It was mere seconds before the flame started stinging at Caellyn's cheek.

"You can't do anything right, and you never have. You are pathetic. A sad excuse for part of this family. A sad excuse for a human."

Caellyn felt her emotion boiling up inside of her, readying to explode. Her eyes were already stinging and her throat grew tighter. She knew exactly what would come next.

She'd never been this bothered by his tirades before – but this one hit home. This one knew all of her worries and suspicions; not only did she not belong in their family, but she didn't belong in their world. She was a genetic freak.

"Why," Caellyn felt her voice shoot out, steady, despite the emotions roiling beneath her, "did you even adopt me?" Despite her calm outward demeanor, her entire world was falling apart, "You obviously don't care for me. You don't need me. Never have. Never will." Her pained voice was barely above a whisper, "I'm just some worthless, random person. And I never asked for this. You – you lecture me on how I'm barely passable for a human? Well you're not even passable as a parent. You're blind to what you're perfect son does!" Her voice was reaching a higher decibel now, the fury was reaching its peak, "Just because he's related to you doesn't mean he's inherently perfect! You see only what you want to. But the rest? The truth? You're blind to it. Why can't you see that? Why do you hate me?" Caellyn's voice cracked on the last word, and her vision started swirling before her.

No. Not here. Not now. I am not going to cry.

"Why? Because you're worthless. Because you're trash," he answered coldly. His voice was completely devoid of emotion.

The excruciating pain from his words started tearing in Caellyn's chest, ripping at her sides as a sob wracked through her frame. A gnawing voice sounded within the confines of her mind, the one that only came at times like this; times of pain.

If you run, you'll never have to hurt like this again, the soothing voice promised her.

A moment of indecisiveness kept her grounded to the floor in the deathly quiet room. A second sob ripped its way free of her chest and tears started pouring, unbidden from her eyes.

Then the moment was over. Caellyn ran from the room, from the family that couldn't accept her. She tore down the stairs two at a time as she abandoned any hope of ever knowing why fate seemed to revel in causing her such emotional pain. She whipped open the only obstacle in her way – a door – and rushed outside to be greeted by the merciless, pouring rain. She stopped for an instant, wondering where it was she had intended to go.

Away, the voice sounded again, soothing, far away from the pain.

She didn't look back. And once again, she sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her. The ground was flying beneath her feet as she, quite unknowingly, rushed out to meet her doom.

She silently thanked whatever gods may be that she'd had shoes on before the whole fiasco, otherwise she'd be running barefoot. The wet grass was plummeted into submission by the ever-present rain as she practically flew into the surrounding trees.

She ground to a halt.

I don't remember anything like this near the house. There definitely was never a forest before. No way I would have missed that. Where am I?

Looking curiously around her, Caellyn's vivid purple eyes took in the woods around her, her gaze calculating.

An edge crept into her skin, prickling, making the hair on her arms stand on edge. Something wasn't right. This wasn't natural.

She heard the soft crack of a branch being stepped on, the telltale sign that she wasn't alone. It didn't take her much time to react: a girl by herself in the woods with someone, something silently with her.

Before she even finished the thought she was running. Running faster than she ever had in her life, barely stopping to glance ahead at where she was going, utterly terrified. Much to her dismay, she heard more cracking of branches, louder than before. It was chasing her. In that instant she realized her mistake. She should have run out of the forest, but instead she was tearing further and further in without the slightest inkling of where it would end. She was trapped in the bright, sickly green forest. Thorns grabbed at her jeans and scratched her face, arms, hands – any flesh they could grab at. Rain sheeted down from the branches above and roots reached up from the ground, grasping for her feet.

She shut her eyes, somehow hoping that would block out the noise of pursuit, praying fervently for it to go away. It made no sense. She had no recollection of this forest even being here, and why was she being chased? What was even happening? But she wasn't tempted to go back. Not ever, not back to the family that hated her so much. Amy…She felt a tight ripping in her chest.

I can't go back. Not even for Amy. She can survive without me. But I can't survive there, not if I intend to keep any semblance of sanity.

Caellyn kept running, too frightened to look back. The forest was a green blur around her as she kept running, running, desperate for the sounds of pursuit to die out, allowing her to catch a breath. She opened her eyes just in time to see the ground rushing up to meet her as she tripped over one of the many roots. Damp moss smeared over her face and she felt warm blood trickling down her knee as it scraped against a stone, penetrating through her jeans. She groaned miserably, pushing her head above the ground as her eyes snagged on something. There was a huge, pulsing white light that she made out through the forest. She blinked again, making sure that it wasn't a figment of imagination, or a result from her fall.

But there it was. White. Pulsing. Inviting.

She pushed herself up off the ground, oblivious to the cloaked being that stood silent, watching her every move with growing trepidation.

Caellyn brushed aside the branches, ignoring the piercing pain of the thorns as they punctured her skin. She gasped, getting a clear, unadulterated view of the monstrous, blinding white light standing but a few feet in front of her.

It held to a circular shape, towering several feet above Caellyn, its depths were a swirling mixture of white and rippling transparency. Images swirled within its depths, and for once Caellyn felt a calm stupor fall over her. She had never felt such utter peace as she had with the light in front of her. In the back of her mind her logic whispered don't touch it, be careful but in the foremost of her brain, was the screaming voice, the one which told her to run to it, to sate her curiosity.

In the end, the curiosity won out and she slowly approached the strange light, this tear in the fabric of nature. She continued on towards the blinding light. No, being, for that's what it was – it seemed to rejoice and hum contentedly as Caellyn neared it, reaching a hand out.

Don't! The voice in the back of her head whispered, startling Caellyn. The voice was that of a man's. But she quickly shook her head, willing to claim insanity for the moment and reached out to touch it.

White engulfed her vision, swallowing out every other sense. It felt as if a hostile being was charging through her entire body, rage sweeping through every vein. Fear coursed within her as she stood; immobilized as she felt it, the hostile being, sweep memories she had long forgotten through her mind.

It brought forth memories of her at the orphanage flowing seemlessly through every last one as it reached Caellyn at the tender age of six, hearing that she was to be adopted and the joy that she felt at someone wanting her. How the joy turned to apprehension at the sight of her unwelcoming new family. Her nervousness at going off to school and how her fears were confirmed by the rejection she faced from her fellow classmates. How she first came to realize Fred's strange infatuation with her and how she came to accept that she wasn't normal, her anger towards her real parents for abandoning her, even in death. All her memories of every day in her life swept through her mind in a blur until they lead up to her current age of thirteen and her recent fight and flight, and her fear of being followed.

The strange being had grown less and less hostile as it examined her memories, but the lancing pain she experienced as it forced itself through her memories was unbearable. Her head pounded as if it were about to explode, while simultaneously feeling as though someone were taking a screw driver to her brain.

Then the memories faded back to the never-ending white, and the being seemed pleased with her, but still guarded and even…even confused. It flashed a picture of a man in Caellyn's mind, clearing her of any other stray thought.

He had hair the exact color of moonlight which reached past his shoulders. He held himself with the grace of one who expected unquestioning obedience. His pale face was, of course, perfect. But it wasn't his stunning features that captivated Caellyn's attention, nor even was it that his face was accented with pointed ears, but it was his eyes. They were the same vivid purple that Caellyn had grown up being mocked and ridiculed for. The strange man's eyes were wise, intelligent, understanding – as if he knew what she was going through. She felt a flood of nostalgia ache within her. She knew this man.

But then his face faded, and once more she felt utterly alone in the world. Without any regard for her own safety she rushed ahead into the blinding light – in search of the familiar man – even as she felt a fiery, searing pain course through her. She tried to take a steadying breath only to realize that she couldn't; there was no air for her lungs. Fear gripped her and she squeezed her eyes shut, only to be greeted by white once more and she began to sprint further, faster into the light.

She didn't know how far she ran, nor how long for time itself seemed to slow as she continued running. Then the white faded to black and clean air like she had never smelled before rushed into her starved lungs. She opened her eyes.

It was night time here, and a calming breeze ruffled the grass Caellyn's feet and she took in another grateful breath of the intoxicating, clean air around her. The stars had graced the sky with their beauty and as she stopped to admire them, her breath caught in her throat. These weren't the familiar stars of those on Earth. These were the stars of some different world. Fear grappled her heart as the realization hit her.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark she saw a dark shape in the distance, and she knew without a doubt that it was a castle. Her stomach lurched as she felt an unreasonable fear clutch at her, and the overcoming sense of déjà vu.

You shouldn't have left, The male voice in her mind whispered.

She whirled around, expecting to see the strange light-portal to be there, ready to take her home. Her heart stopped dead.

Instead there was a man in a dark cloak was behind her, his eyes glowed the startling hue of blood-red. He laughed maniacally at the frozen girl in front of him, and then stopped abruptly, muttering something in a language she had never heard before.

"Malthinae!"

Her limbs instantly were bound together by invisible bonds, and she couldn't budge an inch. Fear widened her eyes as the strange man laughed again, his head reaching back to reveal his scarlet red hair, a matching color of his disturbing eyes. She vaguely wondered if that was the same emotion others felt when they looked into her equally unnatural eyes.

The sound of her silent gasp seemed to bring the cruel man back to reality and he looked her up and down.

"Worthless," he assessed smugly, "What could dear Galbatorix want with you? Ah well, the second child to add to his collection then."

Caellyn glanced around her quickly, as if expecting to see another person struggling with the same invisible bonds she herself did. There was no one.

The strange flame-haired man sniffed disdainfully at her, "at least the other one puts up fights. You can't even do that, can you?"

Caellyn barely had the chance to think another confused, infuriated thought before the demonic man whispered once more, in a commanding tongue,

"Slytha."

Instant darkness greeted her.

A/N: Did ya like it? Please review! As you can see she isn't just some random girl they snatched from our planet. Next chapter up is going to be Eragon's P.O.V. as he, Saphira and everyone else has to deal with the aftermath of the battle at Feinster and having to come to terms with Oromis' and Glaedr's death. I will be having lots of chapters from Murtagh's POV as well in future chapters. Constructive criticism is accepted, as well as any ideas you might have (no flames please), just tell me what you thought, or what you thinks gonna happen. Every time you don't review Caellyn gets tortured by Galby! So seriously...review ;)

EDIT: made slight grammar edits and A/N edits thanks to Dragnerz for his feedback!