AN: So after forever of not writing anything, I have decided to re-write this story. The previous version will still be up and I will leave a note at the end of it telling readers of my plans. My reason for wanting to start over on this is because I want to make things more original and interesting than they are. In my opinion the story isn't good at all so I am going to do something about it for a change. This will be just a prologue of sorts to get things started. I don't really have a schedule for writing but I am going to try and post as often as possible. Read and review please, and thank you for taking the time to read a novice writer trying his best to put something on paper.
The Shade-Rider:Rewrite Prologue
The dungeon halls of the Empire's capital, Uru'baen, was a gruesome sight to behold. Much of the stone hallways were dimly lit, with torches burning their last embers of light. Dirt and grime clung to parts of the ceiling and walls, dried blood stained random patches of stonework, and the cries of the desperate, pleading inmates sent chills down the spines of the guards who patrolled the maze-like halls.
In the deepest parts of the dungeon, there is a cell. It had a lavish interior, compared to most others, and was nestled alone amongst the twisting passageways. It was twice as wide and tall as normal, with a rough looking cot as a bed, and even a separate room joining it with a large open doorway that contained a bookshelf, desk, candle, and chair for reading.
The stonework inside the prison was kept very clean, not a spec of dirt or dust was found. Everything was kept pristine and neat for the sole occupant. A man known for his bravery, his strength, and most importantly his dragon Saphira.
In this cell was a man named Eragon Shadeslayer. Formerly known as the last free Dragon Rider in existence. But how did the renowned hero of the Varden, a group of rebels who opposed the corrupt Empire and the Black King Galbatorix, fall into the enemy's clutches? The answer is simple. Magic.