A/N: Good evening everyone! We draw ever closer to the 'change' Mara spoke of. To be precise, it happens over the next two chapters. I hope everyone can hang in there until that happens! School starts tomorrow, so I have no idea when I'll be able to find the time to write. But hopefully I can update soon. Also, I've been thinking of changing the name of this story so that I don't get accused of 'leeching fame' anymore. Because that just PISSED ME OFF so bad. So yeah. If you have any idea for a good title, leave a review with your suggestion in it please. As always, enjoy! Until next time my beauties! :D

Chapter 13

When I woke, I was aware of the pain before anything else. It felt like someone had inserted a burning brand underneath the skin above my hip. Something heavy rested on my left arm, pinning it to the bed. And whatever it was, it was breathing.

Opening my eyes for the first time in what felt like years, I took in my surroundings. A single candle lit the room just barely enough for me to make out Freya's sleeping form. Her head rested on her arms, which were folded haphazardly over my own arm. Her face was slack, mouth agape, her breath coming slow and steady. It seemed like an uncomfortable position, to be sleeping half on a chair and half on a bed.

I extricated my arm as gently as possible from her sleeping embrace, and gathered what I could of her into my arms. Trying to cause myself as little pain as possible, and trying not to wake Freya up, I half lifted half dragged her onto the bed next to me.

I sighed, memories of a strange dream worming their way back into my head. I wondered what my test would be, and what change I had to prepare myself for. My entire life had been turned upside down just by meeting Freya. What more could change? And more importantly, would the change be for the better, or for the worse? I needed more information than the morsels I had been given.

I was weary, and felt aches in places that had never ached before. My eyelids drooped, though I fought to stay awake. I was so confused and apprehensive about the things Mara had said to me, I didn't want to sleep. I needed to make sense of all that had just happened to me. But after a few minutes, I decided I was getting nowhere, and drifted off.

I cursed myself for falling asleep. I was supposed to be watching him, making sure he was alright, and I had fallen asleep. When I had woken, my left arm and leg had been draped across Silas' body, and there was a small puddle of saliva resting on his bandaged shoulder.

I had quickly wiped it away with the blanket, hoping he wouldn't wake up and find that I had been drooling on him in my sleep. And then it hit me. How had I gotten into the bed? As I lay there pondering, Silas stirred, opened his eyes, and looked over at me.

I tried my best to smile, but seeing him awake-alive- made me want to cry. And I did. Before I could stop them, tears were rolling down my face and splashing onto his shoulder. He brought a hand up and cupped my cheek, wiping away my tears with a warm thumb.

"Don't cry," he whispered. I reached up and cupped my hand around his, and nuzzled deeper into his hand.

"I thought I'd lost you," I murmured, throat constricted by tears. "This is all my fault. I should have never asked you to come with me. And now you're hurt because of me."

"You have made my life worth living, Freya," he said softly as he wiped away more tears. "I would suffer a thousand deaths before I changed a single moment."

"You mean that?" I sniffed. He nodded, a small smile appearing.

"I do."

"You saved my life, Silas," I paused. "Thank you." He nodded, and I pressed my face into his shoulder. The bandages felt rough against the skin of my cheek. I jumped up, hoping I hadn't hurt him too badly.

"I'm sorry!" I said. "I forgot about your shoulder." Silas' brows furrowed for a moment, and then he reached over and slid the bandages off of his shoulder. I expected to see stitches and maybe some blood, but there was only smooth skin. It was like there was never an arrow there at all.

"Mara…" Silas whispered.

"What?" I asked, a little more than slightly confused.

"When I was asleep, I had this dream. It seemed real at the time, but after I woke up, I figured it was just a dream. It must have been real, though. Mara saved me. She must have healed it when she touched it."

"Mara saved you?" I asked, becoming more and more bewildered.

"Yes," he paused for a moment. "I was dying, and she saved me."

His brows furrowed, and when I asked him what he was thinking, he just shook his head. I felt horrible. Silas had almost died because of me. If not for Mara, I would have been alone. Again. I sent a quick prayer to Mara in thanks, and then sat myself in the chair again.

"What about your hip?" I asked.

"I don't think she healed it. It still hurts pretty badly."

"Could I try to heal it?" I asked, a little tentatively.

Silas pulled down the blanket, exposing an expanse of white bandages wrapped around his lower abdomen. His skin was still pale, and there was a spot of red on the bandages over the wound. I grabbed a steel dagger from where it had been lying on the table and wondered briefly how it had gotten there before I cut the bandages off of Silas. The wound had been sewn up hastily, and looked quite gruesome in the dim lighting.

I would need a thinner blade to cut the strings loose, but the steel dagger would have to suffice. It had a sharp blade. I gently lifted one of the strings to make room enough for the tip of the dagger, and cut it as carefully as possible. I took my time cutting each of the remaining six strands, trying to cause as little pain as possible.

Silas was silent throughout the entirety of the ordeal, and when I was finished I looked to his face to make sure he was alright.

"Go ahead and heal it," he said quietly. I placed my hands just above the broken skin and began searching for my magic. It took a few seconds to find it, but soon I felt it coursing up through my core and into my arms, extending down to my fingertips and flowing into the wound.

After a few minutes I released my hold, and it retreated gently to sit just beneath my heart. I pulled my hands away, hoping that it had worked. His skin was smooth again, like it should have been, except for a thin silvery blue-line. It was almost like a scar, but it faded in and out of sight as the candle flickered.

"What is that?" I asked, looking up at Silas. He seemed more relaxed now, and he sat up and held out his arm. The same faint blue line was there.

"When you heal a wound, some of your magic gets left behind. Everyone's magic is a different color. Whatever color your magic is, a line of the same color will remain on the place the wound was. It's like a scar, but it fades over time."

At that moment, someone pounded on the door. I stood swiftly and went to open it. Behind the door stood a sweaty man with wild eyes.

"Dragonborn!" He shouted. "A dragon has been spotted flying on the other side of the river. It's headed this way!"

I was instantly in action. Having slept in my armor, I was already outfitted for battle. I gathered my weapons, and before I could stop him, Silas was on his feet. He donned his armor in smooth, mechanical motions learned from years of practice, and then grabbed his bow.

"Are you sure you can do this?" I asked him. I was concerned that he might still be too weak to fight, but he nodded resolutely.

"I'm fine, Freya." He stated. "Let us do away with this menace before it causes anyone harm."

With that, I led the way from the room and out of the inn. As soon as I stepped outside, I heard the roar of a dragon. I stepped out into the street, and watched as the ancient dragon winged its way towards us. Silas' presence behind me was a comfort in more ways than one. I sent a prayer to Mara, begging her to keep him safe throughout this fight.

As the dragon swooped by overhead, I turned and shot Silas a predatory smile. He looked alert and prepared, bow drawn and arrow nocked. We stood, awaiting the dragon's approach, ready for battle. Little did I know, everything would change after this battle.