The flap of a dragon's wings could be heard in the sky as a small deep purple dragon flew low on the canopy of the forrest. The dragon roared and a shout escaped its rider at the same time, as the flap of the dragon's wings made the branches of the trees creak. The peak of a pine tree broke as the dragon barely touched it with its talons. Perched atop the dragon's back was Galbatorix, a formidable figure in his own right. Clad in a flowing tunic the same shade of deep purple as his dragon's scales, he exuded an air of authority and power. A gleaming rider's sword, adorned with intricate engravings, hung from his hip, ready to be wielded at a moment's notice. Galbatorix was a man of imposing stature, his broad shoulders hinting at the strength that lay within him. His short black hair framed a face that was both rugged and refined, with piercing black eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. His features were sharp, from his deep brows that furrowed in concentration to his bladelike nose that added an air of determination. His mouth, though thin, held a hint of a smile that spoke of confidence and a touch of mischief.

The forest, once a tranquil sanctuary, now seemed to pulse with energy, as if it recognized the greatness that Galbatorix and his dragon possessed. With every step they took, they left an indelible mark on the world around them, a testament to their unwavering spirit and unyielding bond. The forest seemed to come alive with the dragon's presence, as if it held its breath in awe.

There was no force in the world that could stop him and Jarnunvösk, his female dragon. She could be ferocious when protecting him. Together, they formed an unstoppable force, capable of obliterating any soldier foolish enough to challenge them. Whether it was through the sheer power of Jarnunvösk's fiery breath or Galbatorix's mastery of magic, they were a formidable duo on the battlefield. To further fortify their defenses, Galbatorix had painstakingly constructed powerful wards that shielded both himself and his dragon from most attacks.

Galbatorix was a prodigy when it came to magic, effortlessly excelling in all its forms. His aptitude was so remarkable that even the rider instructors were left astounded. Spells came to him effortlessly, as if he had been born with an innate understanding of the Ancient language. Despite hailing from a humble village outside of Du Weldenvarden, in the province of Inzilbêth, Galbatorix harbored a deep resentment towards the elves of Du Weldenvarden. The villagers, including Galbatorix, blamed the elves for the past attacks on their village and even accused them of kidnapping and transforming newborns. Although he dismissed the notion of transformation, the elves had taken the life of his uncle, leaving a lasting bitterness in his heart. His father had always warned him to steer clear of the elves, and Galbatorix carried that caution with him throughout his life.

Galbatorix found himself in a rather peculiar situation as the majority of the riders in the order were of elven descent. This fact bothered him greatly, as he believed it posed a significant problem. However, instead of dwelling on this issue, he chose to channel his energy into surpassing the elves in terms of magical abilities. The mere thought of outshining them brought him immense pleasure. Galbatorix had always been fascinated by the ancient language and took great delight in expanding his vocabulary. He understood that mastering magic would grant him unimaginable power, and he aspired to become as formidable as the Lead Rider Vrael. In fact, his ultimate goal was to surpass Vrael and lead the riders to unprecedented glory. Galbatorix's mind wandered to the possibilities that lay before him if he were to command an order of dragons. The lands he could conquer and the victories he could achieve were beyond his wildest dreams.

Throughout his rigorous nine-year training, Galbatorix had honed his skills in protecting his consciousness from attacks. This was a crucial aspect of being a rider, and he had become a master at it. Only six months ago, he had finally been declared a full-fledged rider after successfully completing the demanding tests of sword fighting and magic that the elven riders had imposed upon him. However, during his training, Galbatorix couldn't help but notice the unfair treatment the elven riders received. They were clearly favored over their human counterparts, and this left a bitter taste in his mouth. Unfortunately, there was little he and his fellow human riders could do other than obediently follow the commands of their elven superiors. The majority of the rider officers were elves, which only further fueled Galbatorix's desire to find a way to rid the order of their presence. He yearned for a level playing field where humans could rise to prominence and be recognized for their abilities.

"You make my scales itch with these thoughts." Jarnunvösk remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of irritation. Galbatorix couldn't help but notice the change in her mood, her usually vibrant presence now overshadowed by a sense of darkness.

"Sorry" Galbatorix said sincerely, his gaze fixated on Jarnunvösk. Once again, he found himself captivated by the way the sunlight danced upon her scales, illuminating their deep purple hue. Her delicate wings allowed the light to pass through, creating a mesmerizing display. And the perfectly white nails that adorned her back only added to her ethereal beauty. Jarnunvösk turned her piercing purple eye towards him, silently acknowledging his admiration, as she gracefully twirled through the air.

""You're quite the show-off!" Galbatorix exclaimed playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Jarnunvösk responded with a contented hum, her approval evident.

"I can outfly any dragon in a contest," she declared confidently, her mind radiating determination and pride. Galbatorix couldn't help but feel a surge of unwavering belief in their minds.

"Of course you can. Together, we are invincible," he reassured her, his voice filled with conviction.

In Galbatorix's eyes, Jarnunvösk was the epitome of beauty among dragons. None could compare to her resplendent appearance or her exceptional flying skills. He cherished her with all his heart and would go to great lengths to shield her from any harm that may come their way.

"Protect me? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself," Jarnunvösk teased, her voice laced with affectionate mockery.

"I would move the Beor mountains if it meant keeping you safe," Galbatorix replied, his hand gently patting her back in a display of affection.

"Now that's something I'd love to witness," Jarnunvösk responded, her love for her rider flowing through their bond.

They had the day off of duty and they both carelessly passed the time chatting and flying and hunting as one, as a rider and dragon should.

Despite her petite size, Jarnunvösk possessed an uncanny ability to move with stealth when she desired. Before long, she had caught a deer and was relishing the taste. Galbatorix skillfully used his magical abilities to guide an arrow towards a small rabbit, successfully catching it. With the rabbit in hand, he conjured fire using his magic and gathered dried wood to cook the meat. The aroma of the cooking rabbit filled the air, enticing Galbatorix as he eagerly anticipated the delicious meal that awaited him. As he savored each bite, he couldn't help but ponder the elves' preference for fruit over meat. While he understood their ability to connect with animals on a deeper level, Galbatorix remained steadfast in his love for meat, knowing that it would always be his favorite food.

Jarnunvösk, Galbatorix's loyal dragon companion, nodded in agreement as she listened to his thoughts. She had chosen him as her rider for a reason, recognizing his unique qualities and skills. With a hint of amusement in her voice, she remarked, "I knew there was something special about you, my rider." Galbatorix couldn't help but smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride in their bond.

Playfully, Galbatorix teased Jarnunvösk, suggesting that his good looks might have been the reason she chose him. In response, a puff of smoke escaped Jarnunvösk's nostrils as she laughed. "I wouldn't go that far," she replied, acknowledging his charm but also reminding him that there was more to their connection than just appearances. Realizing that they should soon return to the outpost, Galbatorix voiced his concern about getting into trouble if they stayed out too long. Jarnunvösk agreed, aware of the rules that prohibited riders from being outside the outpost after dark, unless they were on a mission. With the sun beginning to set, they made their way back, their bond stronger than ever.

"We are already in trouble for what you did to Evan." JJarnunvösk stated firmly, causing Galbatorix to cringe at the mere mention of the name. Evan, a newly joined rider, believed that his noble birth entitled him to be treated like royalty by all the other riders.

Galbatorix, wearing a mischievous smirk, retorted, "I merely brought him back to reality." However, Jarnunvösk chose not to comment on his statement. Some things were better left unsaid. Jarnunvösk knew that he didn't fully approve of Galbatorix's behavior, but it seemed to bring him pleasure to taunt and mock Evan. After all, Evan was physically weak and struggled with magic. If he weren't a rider, Galbatorix was certain that Evan would treat him with disdain. So why not return the favor?

Galbatorix reveled in the satisfaction he derived from teasing Evan, relishing in the fact that he was a more skilled and capable rider. He took pleasure in highlighting Evan's frailty and lack of magical prowess, knowing that if their roles were reversed, Evan would treat him like dirt. It was a twisted form of revenge, a way for Galbatorix to assert his dominance and remind Evan of his place. However, Jarnunvösk understood the potential consequences of their actions and chose to remain silent, hoping that Galbatorix would eventually realize the error of his ways.

As Jarnunvösk soared through the sky, Galbatorix couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The outpost, a majestic elven tower, stood tall amidst the lush greenery of the forest. Its white stone walls contrasted beautifully with the surrounding trees, creating a picturesque scene. The dragons, with their vibrant scales, added a touch of brilliance to the landscape. As they approached, Galbatorix could see the bustling activity below. Riders were engaged in rigorous training, honing their skills with swords and magic. Servants and messengers scurried around, ensuring that all tasks were completed efficiently. Finally, Jarnunvösk gracefully landed in an empty space within the clearing, only to be greeted by the stern voice of an elven officer.

"You're late! Another hour and there would have been consequences," the officer barked, his tone filled with annoyance.

Galbatorix muttered a half meant apology, his mind already focused on joining the crowd of riders. He swiftly dismounted, retrieving his sword from the saddle, and made his way towards the group. He knew he had to act quickly before the officer could find another reason to reprimand him.

The atmosphere in the outpost was suffocating, and Galbatorix longed for the freedom of the open skies. Jarnunvösk, too, seemed to share his sentiment.

As they exchanged a brief farewell, the dragon's unease was palpable. She always worried when Galbatorix ventured away from her sight, knowing all too well that he had a knack for finding trouble.

"See you tomorrow. Be careful!" Jarnunvösk  said.

"The others should be careful!" he exclaimed with a mischievous grin as he stumbled upon Evan. Engaging in conversation with a fellow rider, Evan couldn't help but boast about his noble lineage as the son of Lord Beathor and the immense wealth that came with it. Little did he know, Galbatorix was eavesdropping, his mind already concocting a cunning scheme. With a few carefully whispered words and a discreet nudge towards a pile of horse dung, Evan found himself swiftly covered in the foul mess. Galbatorix couldn't help but revel in his own cleverness, offering a smug smile and a slight bow to the other riders. Laughter erupted from the group, some even secretly admiring Galbatorix for his audacity. As the night wore on, Galbatorix lay on his bedroll, gazing up at the starry sky before finally succumbing to sleep, his mind already brimming with new schemes for the days to come.