Murtagh grimaced and sheathed his sword. "You should really consider getting a better blade." He said, motioning to the snapped sword lying a few yards away.

Arkiloth stood up and took off his hood. Elva gasped once again. It was obvious that the two men were related in some way, as she compared their faces.

"A skilled swordsman does not care about the blade. It does not matter what sword I use against foes." Arkiloth replied.

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. "We both know that if you had used an elven made sword you could have defeated me in mere minutes."

"The last time I dueled with a rider was ten years ago. I did not think that preparing for such a battle again was ever necessary." Arkiloth had a faint smile on his lips.

Murtagh chuckled and embraced him.

Elva watched dumbfounded from behind them. Shaking her head slightly, she turned around and saw a green spot appear suddenly near the horizon.

She immediately realized what it was.

Her mind raced. Should I tell them? But then Arkiloth reeled back, face as pale and white as the snow.

She needn't have worried. Murtagh felt it as well. The red rider's hand immediately went to his sword, while Arkiloth's fingers flew to the scar on his face. Murtagh's reaction was that of surprise and alertness; but Arkiloth's expression was filled with utter shock and horror. A wild light had crept into his eyes, and it was the same look Elva had seen on cornered animals. Expression strange, he stumbled into the forest without a word.

Murtagh looked grimly at the green dragon approaching them. Thorn was tensed and ready to attack.

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Eragon stumbled blindly on. Emotions he had used a decade to bury were resurfacing once more, and nothing he could do could stop them. The fear, sorrow, anger… again they came to him.

He could remember that night so clearly. The emerald green eyes, the sword slicing into his face, the feeling of his heart dying, rotting…

He stumbled blindly on.

"Arkiloth! Wait!"

Eragon slowly turned around to the sound.

It was the little girl that he had brought with him a day ago. She was intriguing; her fearless attitude, rashness, and there was something that Eragon found in her that made her so enjoyable to be with.

"Arkiloth! Where are you going?"

"Somewhere I can meditate alone." Replied Eragon quietly.

"Why are you running away?"

"I am not running away!" whispered Eragon through gritted teeth. "I just… I…need to be alone…"

"Why?"

Eragon forced a small chuckle. "Full of questions, aren't you?"

"Everyone says so." The girl sat down beside him.

Eragon smiled again. "I've got the same comment many times when I was younger." Then a thought struck him. "And now I'll ask a question of my own. I'm not sure if this is the right time, but what is your name?"

The girl grinned. "Elva."

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Arya silently jumped off her dragon. "You felt it?" she asked, not looking at Murtagh.

"I felt it, I talked with it and I dueled with it." Growled Murtagh. "And do you know what he did when you came? He ran away." Running his fingers through his hair, Murtagh sighed. "You know that his emotions run him, though he lets none see it now. You should hear the tales they tell in the inns. Cold, emotionless, letting out a small laugh only seldom… that's the Shadow Rider they know. I can only imagine the look on his face when he learned of his new title."

Arya sighed and said nothing.

Murtagh groaned and threw back his head. "Ten years, elf. Ten years. Things are spinning out of control. The Varden are just as corrupt as the Empire, the elves are talking of backing into the woods again, the dwarf clans are warring against each other, and the best thing is that my younger brother has been running around the land heartbroken for a whole damn decade!" Murtagh viciously kicked a small gray stone. "I don't even have the will power to rebel anymore." He added softly.

Arya didn't respond. Instead, she threw her arms around Murtagh and tears started to flow out of her green eyes.

Murtagh's eyes went wide. Expression strange, he uncertainly put a comforting hand on the elf's back. "Calm." He murmured. Wiping away Arya's tears, he gave a small chuckle. "If Eragon saw that, he would kill me." He whispered into the elf's pointed ear.

Suddenly, a familiar immense surge of power ran through their minds. That meant only one thing.

"The Shadow Rider's in trouble again. He does have the ability to attract the unpleasant." Said Murtagh as he drew Zar'roc. Arya nodded slowly as well.

The Shadow Rider was Eragon, after all.

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Eragon was shocked. Nothing in the world could of prepared him for this. Elva. That was the reason the magicks in her blood seemed familiar. That was the reason Eragon found so much of himself inside the little girl. That was the reason Eragon thought his emotions were like an open book under her dark eyes…

The past had come to haunt him.

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I am very sorry that I updated so late… I was on vacation. And I had a major writer's block. AND I was too fascinated with other fanfics.

Anyway… review!