A/N: I'm going to try and update another chapter later today. Tomorrow, I'm leaving for the holidays; as I've said before, I may be able to update during that time, but I can't promise anything. It really depends on whether I'll be able to use the WiFi of my accomodation.

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Enorwin was trying to focus on his book – which told the story of how Sir Elgass had slain Dragon King Norvand, the successor of Wainur –, when he heard a pounding at the door of his room.

He laid the book aside with a sigh and stood up from his bedside, adjusting his tunic as he walked towards the door. He opened it. "Yes?"

"My lord," a young man dressed like a squire said in the Middle language with a thick Northern accent, "I am sorry to interrupt, but there are two men at the gates who claim to be your companions. Could you please come to the gates to confirm this?"

Enorwin let out a deep sigh. He had the impression that his mind was literally growing tired of all the annoyance his companions had forced him to put up with. Shaking his head in disbelief, he followed the squire outside.

As they walked out onto the courtyard, Enorwin shivered in the winter cold. He should have taken a cloak with him; however, it was too late for that now.

At the gate, held by the arm by two guards armed with halberds, there were two men, whom Enorwin immediately recognised as Arwund and Maréin. There was a mockingly amiable grin on the rogue's face, as if Arwund had suddenly mentally declared himself and Enorwin the best friends in the world.

"Are these two your companions, my lord?" one of the guards asked Enorwin, his accent just as heavy as the squire's.

Enorwin closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply. "Yes," he said, as if he regretted it – which quite frankly, he did, "they are."

He walked up to Arwund and Maréin and said, "Be glad that His Grace has decided to be lenient this time. I don't think he'll forgive a second time."

"Yes, my lord," Arwund said, his voice drenched in sarcasm.

Enorwin shot daggers at him. "I want a word with the both of you. My room. Right now."

From the corner of his eye, the prince saw a guard trying to suppress his laughter. For a moment, Enorwin considered commenting on it; then, he chose to ignore it.

"Follow me," he simply said to Arwund and Maréin, before turning around and striding back to the guest quarters.

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"What in the world made you two think you could just leave the castle like that?!" Enorwin yelled at his two companions. He was standing in the middle of his room opposite Maréin and Arwund; his fists were clenched. "The duke forbade you to! Now I don't know about your worldview, but when a duke forbids something, then you shouldn't do it!"

"Frankly, I think that depends," Maréin said calmly. "I did not trust the duke, so I decided to investigate. Arwund came with me for the same reason. And it turned out we were right."

"Say again?" Enorwin said, his voice menacing.

"Maréin said that we were right," Arwund responded in the wanderer's stead. "The duke has been taking people away from the town in the valley for a while now. Abducting them, really. Those people rarely come back."

Enorwin looked the draconic human rogue in the eye. Maybe, just maybe, there was truth in what he said, but it seemed very unlikely.

Of course it isn't true! Enorwin suddenly thought. The two men were probably just trying to justify their disobedience by making outrageous claims like that.

The prince scoffed. "If you're going to say things like that, you'd better come up with some proof," he said. "I don't know if you realise it, but the duke was stabbed today. He almost died. And now you come up to me and begin to slander his good name, while he has been nothing but a very hospitable and good host to us. As I said before, you can count yourselves lucky that he is such a patient man. I don't know if I would have put up with all your actions this long, had you been my guests instead of people who can provide me with valuable information for my quest."

Arwund sighed. There was disappointment in his eyes as he looked back at Enorwin. "So you don't even believe us."

"What I do believe is that you're an even bigger liar than I thought," Enorwin hissed. "Now get out of my eyes. Enjoy the time you two have left on this quest, because after we've finished, I'll make sure my father will punish you for your actions." He took a step back so that he could look at the both of them. "I want your keys. I'm going to lock your doors, so that you won't be able to offend the duke any further."

"You promised me my freedom," Arwund said. "I thought you knights were men of your word."

"I promised you your freedom on the condition that you would help me," Enorwin said. Somehow, his rage had become so intense that it had actually made him calm. He felt as though his entire body was one heap of concentrated anger, which somehow gave him more control over it.

Or maybe your anger is controlling you, a voice in the back of his head said. He ignored it.

"So far," the prince continued, "you're not really helping. In fact, you're making this quest harder for me. And the same goes for you, Maréin." His eyes shifted to the wanderer.

Maréin produced his keys, a smile on his face, as if he didn't take Enorwin's words all too seriously. He handed over the piece of metal. Enorwin took it.

"Arwund?" he urged.

The prince could see rebellion in the rogue's eyes. He stared back at Arwund, making quite clear that he was not going to permit any more insubordination.

"There's no point," Arwund said. "If I wanted to go out, I could simply burn down the door, couldn't I? Maybe you'd better let me keep the keys, to make sure I don't destroy the duke's property in my disobedience."

Enorwin hated to admit it, but what Arwund said was logical. "So I'll have to trust you," the prince stated.

Arwund looked as if he was going to say something, but then he apparently thought the better of it. Instead, he said, "Yes. You'll have to trust me."

"Very well," Enorwin said. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very fatigued. He handed Maréin his key back. "Here," he said wearily, "you can have it back. I'm tired of trying to keep you two under control. Keep in mind that if you do something like this again, I won't try to convince the duke to forgive you. In fact, I might even try to convince him to punish you."

He sat down at the rear end of his bed and let himself fall back on the mattress. "Get out," he said weakly.

"No more speeches?" Arwund asked.

"I said get out," Enorwin ordered flatly.

Finally, the two men obeyed.

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Apparently, few people were aware of Maréin and Arwund's escape from the castle earlier that day, because at dinner, no-one had mentioned it. It could have been any regular castle dinner, save for the duke's absence and the empty throne at the head of the U-shaped arrangement of tables.

As night fell and Arwund was lying on his bed in his room, he noticed he felt tired. Not just physically, but also mentally. He was tired of having fights with Enorwin, of trying to make the boy see. He was tired of travelling and getting ordered around. He was tired of this entire quest; he was tired of this country.

He knew what he would do. Enorwin had given him no choice. Soon, he would flee. He would disappear into the wilderness of Dracherwold. Enorwin had made it quite clear that he would never grant Arwund his freedom, so perhaps it was better to just take it. The rogue would have to evade the Flaming Lands from then on, but that was a small price for his freedom. Enorwin could probably beat Darfith without him: he had already asked for his father's army to aid him.

Then all would go back to the way it had been before Arwund had been arrested. He'd probably become a criminal again: he didn't really feel like settling for a job.

Suddenly, he felt a pang of something he'd never associated with theft and burglary before: conscience.

Was it right to steal like that? Wasn't that exactly what he accused Enorwin of doing?

In his mind, he suddenly heard Maréin's voice. "You're not that bad a person, Arwund."

"I disagree," Arwund had answered.

"Well, there we go," the rogue sighed to himself. "That wanderer has got to me."

So maybe he shouldn't go back to life as a criminal. But what should he do, then? Join the ranks of the commoners in obedience to the nobility? His nature seemed to revolt against the very idea. He wanted change, an energetic life; ever-changing and energetic as the fire he breathed. Put simply, he felt that he desired action; that he desired life, no matter how dangerous or uncontrolled.

He closed his eyes. He knew that Maréin, Hageriech and he would initiate their plan to free Nibelinde when most of the castle was asleep. He could picture her in front of his mind's eye: tied to a wall, hanging her hair in utter hopelessness, waiting for her judgment. He wished the very best for her, and he really hoped that one of those gods everyone worshipped would hear his wish and answer it. However, he found that he still doubted their existence.

He turned to his side and decided to try and sleep for a bit until the rescue mission would begin. He hoped Maréin would wake him, but he thought that the knight probably would. He'd noticed that the Southerner did not need as much sleep as most people.

Apparently, Sir Tarnhald had recognised Maréin's name earlier today and thought the wandering knight was an impostor. At least, that's what he'd called the wanderer: an impostor claiming to be a famous knight. How was it possible that Sir Tarnhald knew the story of Maréin Aurácez, while Arwund had never heard of this apparently famous knight? The rogue had been told his share of stories throughout his life, but the name Maréin Aurácez was unfamiliar to him. Was it one of those stories only nobles knew? Something too "courtly" for many common people's tastes?

Slowly, his thoughts about Maréin became more hazy, and he drifted off into the realm of dreams.

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A young woman approached him, walking on a path of light in the midst of darkness. At the other end of the path, there was a bright light. The woman's hair was literally golden, and reflected the light. As she approached Arwund, he could see that her eyes, too, were golden. She was grinning widely.

"We have reached you!" she called.

"We?" Arwund asked. "Who?"

"We don't have much time," the woman said. She had come to a halt and now stood in front of him. "Listen, Arwund, you cannot leave now. You have to see Darfith."

"Why do I have to see Darfith?" Arwund asked. "What do I have to do with him?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "You're as annoying as your ancestor," she said, but then she smiled again.

Arwund frowned. What in the world was she trying to tell him?

"There will come a prince and two lesser men," the woman quoted. "The prince will slay the black-scaled one. As written down by the Order of Wainur."

"What do I care for some enigmatic prophecy written down by an equally enigmatic order?" Arwund said. "Besides, is the presence of the two lesser men, as Maréin and I are so kindly referred to as, really that important for the fulfilment of the prophecy?"

The woman approached him. She extended her right hand, and Arwund wanted to back away, but he found that his legs would not move one inch. Gently, the golden-haired woman touched his hanger.

A huge light emanated from the pendant. It shone like a small sun, and Arwund was under the impression that the light would have blinded him if all this had been real. But he knew that he was dreaming.

How could he have known he was dreaming all along, without being able to control his dream or waking up? Could it be that this was no dream?

"Well-spot, Arwund!" a loud male voice suddenly roared. The sound was definitely not human; it could almost be called...

A huge, spectral dragon's head appeared in the light. The scales were as golden as the woman's hair.

... draconic.

"Wainur," Arwund uttered, his jaw dropping in amazement.

The dragon's jaws moved up and down as the creature spoke. "Yes. I am Wainur."

"Are you... alive?" Arwund asked, disbelievingly.

The dragon's facial muscles moved in a way that could almost be called a smile. "Only time will tell, Arwund Marholdson."

"Wait a second!" Arwund protested. "I'm being told what to do here and you won't answer a single question!"

"Trust me, Arwund," Wainur said. "Follow Enorwin. Make sure you get to see Darfith. Not for my sake, not for Enorwin's, not even for the sake of Garowain, but for yourself."

"How is meeting Darfith going to benefit me?" Arwund asked. "Answer me!"

Wainur "smiled" once more. "Trust me, Arwund. You'll have what you desire, although you may not yet know what you desire. As with so many good stories, everything will make sense in retrospect."

"Stories, eh?" Arwund said challengingly. "If this is a story, then aren't you supposed to be the bad guy? You're the Dragon King whom Lannhil supposedly slew!"

Wainur let out a roaring laugh. "Sometimes the bad guys are not who they seem. Besides," he added jokingly, as the face slowly turned away from Arwund, "it's not too bad, being the bad guy."

The rogue and the Dragon King broke eye contact, and Arwund noticed he was beginning to move away from the light, the woman and the golden dragon. He wanted to run back, to ask more, to ensure that he got the answers he wanted, but he couldn't control his legs. An invisible force dragged him farther and farther away, the light now little more than a shining dot in the distance. Looking down, Arwund noticed that the light shining from his hanger had also disappeared.

The rogue extended his arm. "Wait!" he shouted. "Come back! I want answers! Answers!"

In the distance, he heard Wainur's roaring voice. "Don't worry, Arwund; you're going to love this one."

Then the light went out.

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Arwund opened his eyes, instantly bright awake.

He was still lying on his bed and he was still on his side. And on his nightstand, he spot a book.

He frowned. He had not put the book there; he was sure of that. Had he been sleepwalking?

He sat up on his bedside and took the book in his hand. He looked at the cover. It was made of leather and contained no text; the first page, however, was heavily illuminated. In golden letters, the title read: LIST OF THE GREAT KNIGHTS OF GAROWAIN.

Arwund raised an eyebrow. Why had he put a book about knights on his nightstand? Or... had Wainur done it?

Suddenly, Arwund let out a short laugh. Sure. A long dead dragon had taken control of his sleeping mind and made him put a book on his nightstand. How plausible was that?

At that moment, a curious desire got hold of Arwund. He skipped through the pages until he found the index, which listed all the knights in the book alphabetically. He quickly went through all the knights with an A.

No results.

That was possible. Maybe the knights were listed by first name; after all, many knights simply used their hometown as a kind of last name.

He turned the page to look at the M. Once again, he read all the names.

Then he checked again, this time more precise. His surprise increased.

He checked the A once more.

Then he went back to the M.

"No way," he muttered to himself.

He shut the book, carefully putting it back on the nightstand. How was this possible?

Although the book claimed to list the "great knights of Garowain", nowhere did it contain the name Maréin Aurácez.