Thanks to all who've been reviewing this story. Keep 'em comin'.

Here's yet another chappie

Enjoy

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The air atop the cliff was thick with anticipation as the two guymelefs stared each other down. Their arms at the ready, they wordlessly dared one another to make the first move.

Although Escaflowne was physically prepared to fight, its pilot was in no shape to follow through with any sort of attack. Van stared forward with utter confusion in his mocha eyes. He couldn't believe what was going on, who his opponent was. There was no doubt that he was battling Scherazade, his eyes didn't lie to him; but still, his mind wouldn't let him accept the fact that Allen Schezar was now his enemy.

In the past, Allen had risked his own life, on countless occasions, to save Van's. He had endangered his crew to rescue the boy king from the Vione, from the clutches of Zaibach forces. He had very nearly died for Van, so why was he attacking him now? Where did his loyalty to the raven haired boy go?

Dust clouds swirled across the battle field. Scherazade attacked; launching an inferno from its flamethrower. The dry brush surrounding the cliff erupted into flames, creating a wall of fire behind the silver dragon. Things began to, quite literally, heat up.

Sweat poured down the young king's face and torso, causing his clothing and hair to be plastered to his body. He had to get away from the intense heat before he cooked to death inside Escaflowne. It was time to fight or die.

Van charged forward, yelling as he swung his sword wildly above his head. He ducked under Scherazade's blade and neatly cleaved its flamethrower in two. His aggressor stumbled backward but quickly regained its footing and launched an attack against the silver melef.

Scherazade leapt into the air, slicing down at Escaflowne. Van blocked the attack but was unaware that a crima claw had been fired. The liquid blade punctured the dragon's armor and Van let out a howl as white hot pain shot through him. His adversary had gotten too close that time. Van needed to be more on his guard if he wished to survive.

The intense battle waged on. Metal clashed and sparks flew as the melefs parried and thrust their swords in an attempt to gain the upper hand. Neither pilot wanted to lose the battle but as time passed, so did the force of their attacks.

Van couldn't speak for his opponent but he was certainly feeling the consequences of the battle. He was light headed and his limbs ached from exhaustion. The stifling heat was zapping what little energy still remained inside him. He would not last much longer. He had to get away or he would die.

Dilandau's breath came in labored rasps and his vision was blurry but he was nevertheless pleased. He knew Van was struggling against him. Velannaf had been right about using Scherazade; it gave the dragon slayer the edge he needed to face Escaflowne. Van was holding back because he still felt an allegiance to Allen. It was an enormous mistake that was gonna cost the ebony haired king dearly.

Scherazade ran towards Van, determined to end the battle and destroy his enemy once and for all. He was mere inches from his prey when a voice sounded in his head.

"Stop!"

Dilandau halted in his tracks upon hearing Velannaf's voice. What was he doing telling him to stop when he was so close to victory?

The dragon slayers eyes danced with the desire for blood. He couldn't stop now. Not when he had Van right where he wanted him. He grasped his weapon tighter, intending to use it one last time.

"I said STOP Albatou! You've had enough fun for now. Leave his majesty alone." The shadow ordered.

Van didn't know why Scherazade was struggling to follow through with its attack but at the moment he didn't care. He had the opportunity he needed to escape. He lunged forward with all the strength he could muster and crashed heavily into the opposing guymelef. Scherazade slammed heavily into the dirt, snuffing out the flaming brush beneath it.

Dilandau picked himself off the ground and watched, with burning scarlet orbs, the silver dragon retreat into the distance.

"Relax Albatou." The shadow spoke up, noticing Dilandau's rage. "You will play again; our little game has only just begun." Velannaf cackled wickedly in the boy's mind.

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"Look!" Merle exclaimed with happiness as she pointed to the sky. "It's Lord Van."

The dragon melef was making its descent. The ground grew closer as Van struggled to make a proper landing.

Alegus rushed forward nearly tripping over his baggy robes.

"Oh, your highness." He pushed his glasses up his nose, speaking hastily. "We must hurry, the tournament is about to begin."

Van's half lidded eyes peered down at the old man. "There...is...no...tournament." His chest ached with every word.

"B-but s-sire-"

"Can-cel...it." Van's last bit of strength was drained; he collapsed limply to the ground as Merle rushed to his side.

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Hey it's my shortest chapter yet.

Hope it's still good. REVIEW