I will be busy this week, so updates may come slower. Oh well.

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Arkiloth seemed to have returned to normal the following day. But Elva noticed that his steps were a little heavier than usual and he talked less. The ability to sense other people's emotions through small things like these were also a gift from the girl's forgotten past.

"We are around Dras-Leona now, if my senses are correct." Announced Arkiloth a few hours after they left the cave. "Since I am traveling with you, it would do us good if we bought some horses from the city."

"But won't the people of the city—"

"Think me queer?" Elva thought she heard amusement in his voice. "It wouldn't be the first time, and it won't be the last. I'm more concerned about you, however. Most ordinary people of both the Empire and the Varden have now learned to use a blade in order to protect themselves; it has become a needed skill to survive. Keep close to me."

Elva nodded. Still curious about Arkiloth, she asked, "May I see your face?"

Arkiloth was silent for a couple of seconds. "Why?" he asked.

"I cannot say that I met you if I haven't seen the man under the hood." The girl replied.

"You are sure?"

"I must see."

Arkiloth drew in a long breath. "Alright then." Slowly, he pulled the hood off his head.

Elva had to stop herself from gasping. The man in front of her was nothing like she had ever seen before. His blood red hair was the thing that she noticed first. Then it was the angled and handsome face, strikingly similar to that of an elf. A thin scar ran down from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. The crimson eyes were the last to be taken in, but they were a sight that Elva would never forget.

"Surprised?" asked Arkiloth in a somewhat quiet voice.

"What are you? A shade?" stammered Elva.

"Once every race held me as one of them… humans, elves, dwarves, and I had even gained the respect of the Urgals." Arkiloth sighed. "Now even I do not know what I am. I only know that I am not a shade, for I still have control over my mind."

Then Elva noticed the pointed ears. "You were once an elf?"

"Yes and no." Arkiloth pulled on his hood again. "Come. Dras-Leona is mere minutes away." He paused for a moment. "I would prefer if you do not talk about how I look to people that you do not know. I have many enemies."

Suddenly, Arkiloth stiffened and drew his battered sword. "Keep quiet." He ordered, and looked up into the sky. Puzzled, Elva raised her head as well.

To see a giant ruby red dragon flying above them.

Arkiloth was motionless as the dragon landed before him. Elva was striken. The red rider!

A man in a cloak leapt off the dragon gracefully and walked towards the pair. "Haven't seen you for quite a while." He said with a smiling face. To Elva's astonishment, the face was extremely similar to that of Arkiloth's.

"How did you find me?" muttered Arkiloth. If the hood was pulled down, Elva thought that she would see an ashen face.

"Simple. But first, I have to ask you about what happened last night. For more than a minute your barriers failed and noticed your presence to every magician in Alagaesia. What happened?"

"I was weary."

"You lie." Said Murtagh with a small smirk.

"Yes. But don't expect any other answer."

"I wasn't. So who is this girl you have with you?"

"Someone I met on the road. She wanted to meet me."

"She did, didn't she?" Murtagh was grinning.

"Shut up." Hissed Arkiloth. "Don't think that I don't know what happened before the gates of Melian."

Murtagh let out a strangled sound. "It was because of you that I had to make the oath in the first place!"

"I'm grateful. But the story was amusing nonetheless."

Murtagh snarled and drew out Zar'roc. Arkiloth readied his sword as well. "Is it true that two years ago dwarves sealed you up in their tunnels and it took you a month to escape?" Murtagh taunted.

"How the —Is it true that three years ago the Varden's rider completely humiliated you in front of the whole city?"

"I was drunk the night before!"

Their blades clashed. Elva had never seen a duel so fast and intense. Arkiloth slashed at every weakness, vicious and deadly as a striking snake, while Murtagh was parrying frantically. Arkiloth was relentlessly battering down the red rider's defenses, but Murtagh didn't back down.

There was a snap and Arkiloth's sword broke off, landing in the snow several yards away. Seizing the chance, Murtagh kicked him in the stomach, and Arkiloth crumpled to ground with a groan. The next thing he felt was the cold point of Za'roc touching him under his chin.

Murtagh's back! Reviews!