Artakkha
Prologue
"Galbatorix! This battle is pointless, submit now or die to my blade!" Galbatorix laughed and replied curtly; "You are a mighty warrior, but even Vrael could not defeat me, what makes you think you can?" Lightning flashed all around the two rivals as they stood atop the tallest peak the Spine. Snow and ice whirled around them, almost as if they stood amidst a tornado.
The night sky hung low, and the air was thin. Galbatorix parried another blow from the dark warrior with Vrangr, and stabbed back at his enemy. Elsewhere, Shruikan battled against a mighty dragon, one almost the same size as Shruikan himself. The two dragons were hardly distinguishable from the storm around them. Their wings flapped like thunder, and their roars as loud as the lightning that pierced the sky. Galbatorix was impressed with his enemy, but knew only one ruler could remain in power over the land.
Once more, Galbatorix stabbed at Artakkha, parrying a series of blows before attempting to deliver his own. The warrior he fought against was his equal in strength of mind and blade, but Galbatorix would not be defeated. Artakkha dove at his mind, attempting to break the iron barriers around his consciousness, but Galbatorix remained vigilant. Flicking his blade upwards, he caught his opponent off guard as he performed a flurry of tactical movements, before bringing Vrangr down in one fell sweep. It was the same move that had allowed Galbatorix to defeat Vrael only a few days prior. As the dark warrior stumbled backwards, his last sight was of Vrangr as it sped towards him.
Artakkha opened his eyes, shrouded in darkness. His mind was a whirlpool of jumbled thoughts. He attempted to organize his consciousness, but simply could not, as if someone had rearranged the workings of his very identity. His limbs sore, he realized both his arms and legs were shackled. As he came to, his elven eyes noticed the thick black chains that immobilized him, preventing him from moving so much as an inch. Even his neck and wrists were tightly secured, though he found he could slightly move his hands about. He muttered a spell to release himself, but nothing came out of it. He cursed silently, and as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he realized his dragon lay before him, chained in a similar fashion.
Zurvack, his mighty dragon, gradually opened his eyes, and growled, shaking the whole of the cavern they occupied. Zurvack looked around, desperately trying to shatter the chains that held him in place. "These chains Zurvack, can you break us free?" "It will take time my rider, but yes. These chains have been heavily reinforced with magic, but if you can cast the spell, I can supply the energy." "Very well" Replied Artakkha, knowing full the well the effort would likely leave them both unconscious.
He looked over, and saw his sword behind a glass wall. With it, his armor lay as well. Artakkha smiled to himself. "Galbatorix was a fool if he thought he could keep us here. It was a grave mistake to leave that sword so close to me." Without uttering a word, Artakkha called his sword to him. The glass shattered as the sword flew through, only to land in his hand an instant later. He thought to himself "Andlát. It his good to told you once again." The swords name, literally meant Death in the ancient language, as it was all it had ever known. Artakkha smiled to himself, as he began to devise a spell that would set him free. Alagaesia and Galbatorix would feel his wrath once more.