Eldest: The Dwarven Rider
The Wrath of Galbatorix
I am Lord Aramis of Surda. My fault it is said, for the eldest lord of Surda to lose Galbatorix's second egg. But what is fault? A Rider has none. For yes, I am a Rider, and no accident was this...
Galbatorix strode through the halls, gleaming with pleasure, for this was Dragon Day. He could feel that today a Rider would emerge. The Kull would kill Eragon; he would have a Rider to take the throne. Ha! The Varden were really helpless now.
Then, a rider galloped hard up to the castle, bearing a scroll and a banner heralding Galbatorix. "Sir, the Urgal report a mass killing." Good, good, today was a good day.
"But Durza was lost, they have been driven back, and Eragon lives."
"Argh! You imbecile!" Galbatorix raged.
"But sir..."
"Jierda con welden!" The man's neck s silenced, shattered like fine china, and recomposed himself as a mindless guard. Thus was Galbatorix's power.
Meanwhile, the people passed over the dragon under the dark tower, with his guards ever watching, the people cowering under the darkness. Men of Terim, Gil'ead, passed under. Even the Raz'zac that remained took a shot.
Yet the eggs never cracked, their reddish ruby and gold plated color gleaming in the little light that ever passed into Urû'baen. Lord Aramis, as an ambassador to Empire, had to do it for show. And the red one fell. As if by magic it glowed, and vanished.
Galbatorix was enraged. Suspecting the Surdian Lord, he threw 5 short axes, and Lord Aramis died. His blood poured out on the ceremonial altar. For him, he had completed the task. Transported it where none knew. With his last act as Rider, he did a good one. Fulfilled, it was.