"We shall take you to the King now..." said the Razac.
You struggled to keep yourself from showing dread, but failed. Yet before you could resist one of the Raz'ac threw a blindfold over your face, and pulled on your chains, forcing you to follow. All you remembered was taking several turns, seemingly at random, as the Razac took you to the throne room. You heard what sounded like two large double doors swing open, and felt yourself being dragged forward against a stone floor.
"We brring the prisssonerr...." said the Razac.
"Take off his blindfold," said a scowling, authoritative voice.
"Asss you wisssh," replied the Razac.
Your blindfold came off, and you were temporarily blinded by the brightness of the room.
When your vision cleared, you saw a bald man seated on a high throne. It was Galbatorix himself, the goddamned king of Alagaesia. A long robe covered his black suit of armor, but it was his gaze; a gaze that seemed to pierce right through, as if by doing that alone he was able to scry your inner most secrets, and perhaps he already was. Behind him, as if to add further emphasis to his power, lurked black Shurikan, gazing down at you like a sentinel, black smoke billowing out of his nostrils.
Compared to your naked, dirty, miserable form, the contrast was stark indeed. You tried not to show fear, but that was impossible. Yet what was strange was that along with the fear was a certain sense of awe at his subtle yet apparent power. You realized that this was a man who was not only powerful. Not only was he a man who had knowledge of every dark spell in the dictionary and could probably cast them in 10 languages. That would have just made him a power hungry warlord. Instead, this was the sort of man that was shrewd, that could manipulate anything and anyone to his advantage; the sort of dangerous, hypnotically dynamic ideologue that could turn even the most objective individual to his cause.
Worst of all, you had tried to actually kill this man, and the fact he hadn't already killed you or tortured you alarmed you even more.
Instead, he smiled at you.
"As you can probably imagine, I have a great many questions to ask of you that I am most curious about. It is your best interests to comply with my questions, as sooner or later I will find out about you Giljaras Dragoner."
Your face blanched, how had he known your name!! Did he force it out of Drak? Had he simply read your mind? What other sorcery was he capable of!!
"How do you know that isn't my fake name!!" you sputtered.
"Don't try to deny that is your name, I can see it in your face," said Galbatorix. And also.
"You don't know that for sure. Are you gonna use some sort of fancy spell to get it out of me? Come on!! Try me!!" you dared.
Galbatorix grinned reached into one of his pockets. When you saw it was a card, you thought it was a Tarot card at first, however when you noticed it had a plastic lining your face fell. It was your identity card.
"Giljaras Drejanier, of Angelos Weyr, Dragoner 3rd class. Born in Rowheigh. Country of Origin, the Republic of Twilight. Bonded with Drakreanor. Male forest dragon," read Galbatorix.
"Fuck...." you murmured.
"And I assume there is more to this card than what meets the eye. Surely, if you're part of the dragon riders of wherever you exist, they would place a sort of enchantment upon them," said Galbatorix.
"No its..."
"Don't you tell me that your leaders handed you just a sheet of paper. They're not imaginative enough to think of that. Can you deny me that?"
You remained silent.
Galbatorix shifted in his chair, "Now, let us switch to another topic."
He pulled out more objects from his pocket. The first object he pulled out was a grenade.
"You seem to possess an interesting array of mechanical devices Giljaras. No doubt from your world also. Care to tell me how they work?" he said, again with the arrogant, self-confidant smile. You noticed Galbatorix study the grenade curiously.
Then, a flash of brilliance came over you. Sure he was knowledgeable about magic, but about technology? Maybe if you could convince him that it was something else, and told him to pull the pin, he'd blow himself up!! You had to make it sound like a lie though. Or else he would get suspicious.
"No..."
"Come on Giljaras," said Galbatorix patienty, "You know I don't like it when you speak back to me like that."
"I-its a lighter," you muttered. "You've got to pull the pin. It'll tick for a while, and then it'll light up once the charge reaches the powder. Useful when you're trying to see a night."
"Oh really?" said Galbatorix.
"Let me give it a try then."
He pulled the pin. At first you couldn't believe it. Had he actually fallen for it.
"Hmmm... it doesn't seem to work. Why don't you see if you can get it to work? After all, you're more knowledgeable about such things.' said Galbatorix.
With a deft flick, he underhanded the grenade where it rolled right in front of you. Your teeth clattered as you heard the grenades ominous tick. You looked up for a moment and wished you hadn't. Galbatorix was sitting there, looking very content with himself. Your arms and legs were tied with chains, so there was nothing you could do to get the grenade away from you. And with no armor and the grenade right next to you, all that would be left of you was a bloody pulp. You gnashed your teeth together as every second seemed to last forever. You thought of Drak, and everything you wished you should have done. And then...
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