"Your majesty...?" a voice asked warily, breaking the moment of silence between Galbatorix, Darcie, and the dragon she figured was named Kazryth. Darcie was too focused on the baby dragon to turn around. She watched it clean off, and then try to stand up. It made squeaking noises when it fell.

"What?" Galbatorix snapped.

"It's..."

"Make it quick."

"Murtagh. He has returned from the Burning Plains."

"It's about time."

Darcie reached out for the little creature. It stuck its nose out and touched her palm. As soon as the dragon touched her skin, a sudden, searing pain struck her body. She cried out in pain and pulled back her hand. Looking at it, a shimmering, diffused white oval appeared. The area itched and burned like a spider bite. Her heart pounded frantically - what happened?

Within a moment, the feeling of something brushing against her mind happened again, but this time it solidified into a tendril of thought through which she could feel a growing curiosity. It was as though invisible walls that surrounded her thoughts had fallen away, and she was now free to reach out with her mind. When she did, she pulled back automatically, feeling as though her conscious was drifting away and she was floating out of her body. The sensation in her right hand had gone from painful burning to a faint tingling.

"Your Dragon Rider waits in the main hall, your majesty," the guard then said.

"Dragon rider...?" Darcie muttered curiously.

"Leave the dragon here for himself and come along, Darcie," Galbatorix said.

"But..."

"Leave the dragon and come along," Galbatorix snarled from behind Darcie.

Darcie stroked the dragon goodbye and trudged along behind Galbatorix. After going through the winding halls once more, she was led to the main entrance of the castle. Her eyes were on the large, red dragon in the middle of the room. The armour covering its body was bent and some parts broken off, showing enough evidence that it had been in battle and hadn't been tended to just yet.

"Your majesty," a deep voice said. Darcie the noticed a man. She recognized him from times she had looked out windows and once peered down a different hallway. He had dark brown, almost black hair, some locks of it framing his face and fierce, dark eyes. She could tell he had been through a lot recently with how scratched up his armour was.

"Where's your pathetic excuse for a brother?" Galbatorix asked in a growl.

"He... he got away," the dark-haired man responded as he got up to his full height, a few inches above Darcie's height and almost exactly Galbatorix's height. The man looked down at the floor.

"You let him get away?" Galbatorix snarled. He then grabbed the man's head and forced him to look back. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The man looked directly at Galbatorix, betraying hint of wariness behind his mask of fierceness.

The dragon roared mightily, echoing throughout the room, which caused it to be ten times louder. Darcie tensed at the noise.

"Why did you let him get away?" Galbatorix asked in a sickeningly-sweet tone.

"Saphira was to fast for Thorn."

The red dragon, Thorn, made a noise that sounded like a scoff.

Saphira...? Darcie thought curiously. She heard the name many times before, but she couldn't remember where.

The man's eyes flickered to Darcie for a moment.

Galbatorix then pushed the man away, causing him to stumble backwards until he regained his composure.

"Put away your dragon as you normally do."

Thorn growled. Galbatorix matched the angry glare the dragon had at him and then walked away, not even bothering to introduce the three.

"Who're you?" the man finally asked as he started taking out bit of armour lodged in Thorn.

"Darcie," she responded, blushing slightly.

"Live here?"

"Locked in here more so."

"How long?"

"Last 18 years."

The man turned around and looked at Darcie.

"I've lived here before yet I've never seen you."

"Like I had said, locked up. In the far end of this place. It's my first time out of there today actually. Anyways, who're you?"

"Murtagh," he responded as he went back to taking out parts of Thorn's armour.

"And your dragon is Thorn?"

The dragon grunted in response.

"Yeah. What your dragon's name?"

Darcie was taken aback - how'd he know?

"I had a feeling," Murtagh answered her mental question. "What is its name?" he asked again, sounding more impatient.

"Kazryth," Darcie responded quietly.

Murtagh then started taking off the entire armour. Darcie was surprised he could take off the armour by himself; it looked rather heavy. After a few minutes of silence, Darcie finally left, figuring Murtagh didn't care much for talking to anyone but Thorn at the moment. She went up to one of the guards and asked, "Which way is it to the room with the dragon?"

He led her through the complicated, twisting halls that eventually led to the door. She was let in automatically.

Kazryth looked up from his sleep and made a gurgling noise. Darcie smiled and walked up to the dragon. Picking him up, she took him out of the room, down the halls and up to her room. He struggled to be freed the entire way, but Darcie kept a firm enough grip that it was somewhat comfortable yet he couldn't escape. Once she reached her room, she put the little dragon onto the floor. He made a grumbling noise and stretched out before wandering around the room curiously.