"The Dragon Riders live again!"
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Eragon and Murtagh waited patiently for Lazuli to return but soon, night fell, and the two were growing restless. They knew that Lazuli could fend for herself, but what unknowns laid in the forest? Besides, they had to resume their journey to Ellesmera.
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Galbatorix slowly surveyed the region of forest surrounding the Elda River, scrying it once more in the Hall of Mirrors. He sighed, and let the image flicker away, as his own reflection appeared, duplicating themselves as mirrors reflected mirrors.
Galbatorix was sitting in the throne room again, Shruikan by his side. The black dragon was asleep, his wings tucked firmly into his sides. With his mind, Galbatorix sensed two presences approaching. He knew them both well.
"My husband." A woman with pale skin, crow-like hair, and large, sinister eyes curtsied, gaze fixed on Galbatorix's sneering face.
"My husband." Another woman, with shining bronze skin and reddish brown eyes curtsied as well.
"Well, you may rise… Number One, Number Two. What do you have to report?"
The darker woman, number two, spoke first. "We have found a girl, by the Elda River. She resembles an elf in features, yet her aura is peculiar."
Galbatorix furrowed his brow as he examined the mental images number one provided to him through a mental link.
"Capture her. This is strange indeed."
"She is currently in the east dungeon." Number Two was already heading toward the door to bring Galbatorix the strange being that they had imprisoned.
"Wait." Galbatorix's voice rang with authority. He closed his eyes, and spread his mind further, looking for an alien presence. He directed his mind toward the east dungeons… and he found it. A being—that was… powerful. Not as powerful as the almighty Galbatorix… this power was untamed, untrained. Latent power, mused Galbatorix. Dormant power. Power yet to be discovered… but power is power is power, and it was there. He let his mental walls shoot up again, beckoning to the two women in front of him.
"Go fetch the prisoner."
Galbatorix waited until he was sure that there was nobody in the throne room. He strode past the guards, and into a long hallway. He made his way to a magically protected door, and the shoved his magic into the lock. The door disintegrated to let him in, then immediately materialized to prevent unwanted entries.
Galbatorix smiled as he cut his wrist, letting his blood spill onto a small black dome. With two words of the ancient language, he healed his wrist, and then waited as the magical barrier identified his blood. It clicked, opening to reveal a stone. Veins stretched across the smooth surface of the beautiful, glossy, and flawless green stone.
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Yes, yes, yes, this chapter was short. Well, I think you should all know what the green stone is.
By the way, Number One and Number Two are part of a system I made up. There, in all, are twenty. I adapted this idea from a book called "Claymore." The Numbers are a group of elite warriors, half-human, and half monster. In this case, the monsters would be the ra'zac. Galbatorix poured the blood of the ra'zac into the veins of the most beautiful women he could find. (Because then, the Numbers look more intimidating). There are other warriors like this under Galbatorix, but the ones in the Numbers are the best. The Numbers are ranked according to ability: fighting ability, skill in magic, etc. For example, Number One is the highest rank. So, there you go.
