A/N: Very dark. Don't read if you can't stand watching a dragon die . Written from Brom's point of view during the end of the battle of Doru Araeba. Also, Brom's Saphira was apparently an aquamarine/turquoise colour, which I did not know.
"No!"
Brom screamed as he watched Saphira fall from the sky, her beautiful wings slashed to ribbons by the claws of the Forsworn dragon. Blood filled his vision; nothing else mattered except getting to the side of his dragon. He raced across the courtyard, dodging piles of shattered stone and pools of blood.
He couldn't cast a spell to slow his dragon's descent; to do so would utterly exhaust him, perhaps to the point of collapse. All he could do was construct a quick mattress of air to soften her landing.
Despite the magic he used, Saphira landed hard, her bloodied wings and neck quickly staining the ground beneath her a dark crimson. Brom rushed up to her, his gaze filled with red.
Blood. There was so much blood. It dripped slowly from a deep bite-wound in her neck, from her once-pristine aquamarine wings, from various cuts and slashes and bites. Her sapphire scales were painted with ugly, deep red, in a cruel mockery of the rainbow of colours in which dragons could appear.
Her huge blue eyes looked into his own, and he could see relief among the pain. Relief that the person who mattered the most to her, the person that was her entire world, was there to help. But he couldn't. He'd used up the last of his meagre strength cushioning her fall; Brom could not so much as heal a bruise, let alone the deep, life stealing wounds that marked his dragon.
Brom…
That single word shook their mental bond, and he could suddenly feel everything that Saphira had gone through. It felt like his body was ripping itself apart in order to share her pain. He tried to take some of it away from her, but there was too much. She must have been blocking him out, to keep him from being incapacitated by her injuries.
He grew dimly aware that the fighting had grown more distant, farther away. Brom didn't care. All that mattered was his life partner bleeding to death in front of him. And there was nothing he could do but watch.
Brom… Her voice through their mental link was weak, tired sounding. Not at all like the spry, enthusiastic Saphira he had always known. The Saphira who'd loved to fly and loved to point out his flaws. Who'd comforted him when his best friend had betrayed him. Who had consoled him endlessly after many battles, where Brom had taken lives. Who had changed his life irreversibly, given him magic, strength, and the power to change the world. The Saphira who had always been there for him, just as he was here now, watching her gasp out her last breaths.
I'm here, Saphira. I'm here… He couldn't manage any coherent thoughts after that. Just an incredible mix of grief, love, helplessness, and rage.
Don't… don't miss me when I'm gone…
No! Don't go! You mean everything to me! Please!
I love you, Brom. I wish we could… have had more time to fly together… Please… don't waste your life mourning for me…. Please… That's all I want… I want you to live on… Saphira's voice was growing ever fainter, exhaustion and pain and blood loss taking their toll on her.
No! Stay! My life isn't worth living without you!
Death… death is the greatest… adventure… of all…
Brom felt Saphira's presence in his mind fade slowly, leaving a dark emptiness where she had always been. Her great heart slowed its pace. And then, after what felt like a million years, her cerulean eyes shut slowly and there.
Was.
Nothing.
Just blankness. Empty. A gaping hole in his mind was all that remained of his dragon. Brom was lost and alone, without the one person who had meant everything to him. Who had valiantly sacrificed herself for him. Left him on the ground so she could fend off the forsworn rider and dragon who had spotted them, because she had known he was exhausted, weaponless, and unlikely to survive a fight with a more experienced Rider. She had thrown him off her back into the rubble of the city and gone to fight the pair, despite the fact that she was just as weary as he was.
She had chosen to give her life to save his. Tears started dripping, unheeded, down his face, mingling with the blood pooling around the body of his Saphira.
Brom wasn't sure how long he knelt there in the ruined city of Doru Araeba, holding vigil over the body of his dead friend. It might have been hours or days; it felt like an eternity. It was twilight when a dark thought entered his mind to finally startle him out of his reverie.
Morzan did this.
Morzan was the one who had caused the death of Saphira and so many other Riders, Dragons, and eggs. The treacherous Rider was the one responsible for all this. Brom would make the monster pay if it was the last thing he did. If it was the only thing he did. As far as Brom was concerned now, he could fail in all else, as long as he destroyed the man who had torn everything away from him. There was nothing else left for the Rider to live for. He couldn't remember his family. Other than Saphira, he had had no close friends. The Riders were shattered, broken, and scattered. His sword had been lost somewhere in the ruined city, probably buried beneath tonnes of rubble or stolen by the Forsworn. His life had been torn to pieces, just like Saphira's once-magnificent wings.
His only purpose now was to destroy the man who had destroyed his world. To shatter his life as he had shattered Brom's. To avenge his dragon and all the others who had been murdered by treachery. All Brom had left to live for was revenge.
All that was left was blood.