–It is difficult to lay out the events that took place after my injury from my own memory of the event, but, in an attempt to understand what had taken place, Brom had shared his memory of the event with me. It is from that memory I tell my tale.–

–You know what, it is awkward to write in first person point of view when one is unconscious. Hate me if you'd like, but this is my autobiography and I will write part in third person if I so please. And now for what happened.–

Saphira let out an echoing roar as the girl fell to the ground, blood seeping through her clothing and into the earth. The infuriated dragon launched herself at Morzan's dragon. –Strange. His dragon's name is like a drunken memory, there, but not clear enough nor well enough remembered to truly grasp.– Brom's shoulder dug into the older rider's as he pushed him away from the dragon Morzan had come close to killing. Brom vindictively swiped Undbitr at his neck.

Already wearied from his fight with the girl, it was becoming obvious that Brom would win. With a shouted curse at the blue dragon and rider, Morzan leapt to his dragon's back and they took to the air, winging off over the trees.

After they were safe, Saphira let out a low whimper and touched the body with her warm nose. Brom knelt beside her and healed the surface of the wound before sadly shaking his head. "It is far beyond my skill to save her."

Saphira sniffed at the woman that was barely clinging to life and spoke in a whisper. Morzan's blade would have killed me. There was sorrow and guilt in her voice. She knew she had neither the strength nor the speed to counter the attack and so she threw herself before the blade. She sacrificed herself instead.

She is dying. Morzan would have killed me as well when he held me in that spell, but she stopped him. We owe her both our lives and yet we do not even know her name.

Saphira began to hum, a mournful keening noise deep in her throat. The sound Brom recognized as one used to honor a dragon's passing. Very few riders were honored in that way, let alone strangers.

No.

The dragon's voice was loud, accompanied by a ringing trumpet which startled a flock of white geese to the air, honking in displeasure as they passed overhead.

She saved us without thought for herself and we let her die? We cannot allow this to pass. A cold fury had come over the dragon, and her talons had sunken deep into the ground.

Brom laid a calming hand on his dragon to no effect. He sighed. "I can do nothing, Saphira." He spoke complacently and out loud, trying to calm Saphira as he knelt, taking the girl's cool hand.

Saphira released a torrent of fire from her iron jaws, reducing a rock into a small, silvery puddle. And then she went still. Her head hovered just above the woman and Brom's eyes widened at the magnificent amount of energy pooling within the dragon He gasped, but knew it was not his place to interfere in what was happening.

Saphira drew a long breath and lowered her nose to touch the girl lightly on the chest, right where her heart lay. A blue light seemed to flow from everything near and surrounded the trio in its eerie glow.

–Okay, now it is normal again. I thought first person point of view would be strange, but talking about myself so detachedly is quite strange as well.–

A pain like white hot flames came from everywhere and I screamed, not knowing what was going on or even if I was alive. Surely death was not as painful as this. Dead souls went to the Void, didn't they. For a moment the humans' concept of hell passed my mind, but it was lost a second later when the pain stopped suddenly.

Warmth spread from my heart outward through my body until it had filled my toes and fingertips. My eyes shot open and I immediately fell into a coughing fit as I choked on the blood that had filled my lungs. The pain continued to tear at my chest and I unknowingly curled into a ball, trying to end it.

A hand rested lightly on my shoulder and I jumped. I had forgotten where I was and even who was with me, but when my eyes opened and saw Brom's face, I remembered. "My… chest. How am I… alive?" I managed to get out through my clenched teeth.

"I do not know." The man's voice was quiet and calm. That, more than anything, helped me to relax and fight against the confusion and panic that was rising inside of me. He had a kind voice, and he sounded young. "Don't try to move yet. You have lost a lot of blood." My sight went dark and I did not struggle as unconsciousness took hold of me.

I woke in a state of confusion, not having remembered anything. My chest was still sore from the coughing fit I had suffered to expel the blood from my lungs, and I had a headache stemming from an unknown cause. My wound had been fatal. Unless… Brom was extraordinarily gifted in healing and had immense power? No. No one was that powerful. My eyes opened and my confusion only increased. I was in a warm bed underneath several blankets.

"You're awake."

Not strong enough to answer that question in the way it deserved, I groaned and sat up, pulling the blankets closer around me as I watched the man. "Who are you?"

He didn't look at all surprised by my question."Brom Holcombson., rider of Saphira." I nodded, but he frowned. "Who are you? It is a question Saphira and I have been wondering for days."

"Meira." I answered without thinking and then frowned confused. "No, I am Angela." At his concerned expression, I sighed. They had saved me. Somehow. They deserved to know the truth. "My birth name was Meira, daughter of Eliza, rider of Reina, and Mathieu, rider of Vanilor." I coughed weakly, the effort of speaking hurting my throat. "I now go by Angela."

He handed me a bowl. "While you were unconscious, you would eat and drink nothing, and you were not fit to begin with."

I glanced down at the bowl and then became almost sick. "This is broth." He nodded and I shoved it away, into his hands with disgust. "No. No. I will not eat that."

Brom sighed. "Angela, you are starving and you lost a lot of blood."

"No. I… I can't." The mere thought disgusted me. It was akin to murder.

He seemed to be thinking for a moment before he responded. "Answer me this one thing. How is not eating this going to help the rabbit I made it from. Would you rather it goes to waste? Be thrown out?"

I glared at him, but then a deep voice filled my mind. Child, eat. I eat only meat as did the dragons that bonded to your parents. Is this wrong? Are we evil?

I can't.

The dragon almost sounded amused by my continued protests. You have never tried. Animals eat weaker animals. That is the way of life. The dragon pulled away. You will feel better if you eat.

–For anyone who does not know, it is nigh impossible to win in an argument of logic against a dragon. Vanilor was the worst of them, but Saphira obviously had experience. Then again, Brom was a stubborn fool.–

With a sick feeling, I took the bowl in my hands, sure I was going to throw up at any moment. "If I eat this, while I'm with you, will you promise not to kill any more to feed me?"

Brom frowned. "I know not what is edible around here, and at this time of year it is even worse. I cannot make that promise."

"Then I will not eat."

I watched as Brom closed his eyes in an effort to keep his temper. "You will eat now, or I will force you."

Looking into his face, I judged his resolve and sighed. He would force me. It was no empty threat. "Fine." I snapped, taking the bowl from his hands.

Another wave of revulsion swept over me as I raised the steaming spoon to my mouth. He watched, amused, as I made a face as soon as the hot broth hit my tongue. I gagged.

"Surely it is not that bad." He snorted.

I ignored him and stared accusingly at the bowl. The taste wasn't that abominable. It was where it came from. Several hours ago, the thing I was eating had been hopping around the forest. Closing my eyes and ignoring my mind's protests, I finished the bowl of broth, my only condolence that I had not been expected to partake of the meat directly.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

"What happened?" I demanded finally, sitting up. My hand went to my chest and I pulled aside my shirt to see a silvery star shaped mark where a mortal wound, or at least a scar, should have been. "It looks like…" My eyes fell on Brom's palm. "What-?"

"I know not how she did what she did, and neither do I know exactly what she has done to you. She wishes to talk with you besides. Come."

I took his arm and he led me out to stand before his dragon. I was unsure exactly of how to greet her, and in the end merely touched my lips and bowed my head. She dipped her head in response and I sat down, cross-legged and looking up into the dragon's face. And then I waited.

Saphira looked at her rider, and then lowered her head to look at me more closely. I held still as her warm breath blew my hair back from my face. You are a stranger in this land, and an alien among the elves. To neither land do you belong.

I frowned at her, annoyed that the dragon had chosen to point this out. "I thank you, Saphira, for healing me, but what is the significance of the mark on my chest?"

Brom was fiddling with a whittling knife and a rowan branch, working on carving a staff, but at my question he paused and looked to his dragon, curious also.

A puff of smoke went up from the dragon's nostrils. Magic, true magic, comes from the earth, not the body. When it is necessary, true magic is what dragons wield.

"And?" That dragon spoke only in riddles and vague statements. I meant to ask if she was always like that, but it had slipped my mind, and the next time I saw Brom, it would have been cruel to reopen the cause of his suffering.

Her shoulders lifted in a strange shrug-like gesture. You saved my rider's life and you saved my life. To allow you to die, unthanked and unrewarded would have been wrong. I did what I was led to do, and the magic marked you and healed your body.

I nodded, thinking. "What, may I ask, is the meaning of the mark you left on me?"

Saphira lowered her head to the ground. The fire-silver-scar? I cannot be sure.

I rolled my eyes at the dragon. Let us examine this another way. Besides the obvious, what effects does the gedwey insignia have on a human rider? The mark, while obviously different, seems to carry the same essence.

She blinked. I sighed and relayed the question to Brom. He frowned, deep in thought. "It is a connection to dragons and magic. I don't know what she did or how she did it, but there is a feeling about it." I stared at him. "If my guess is correct, and my guesses usually are, Saphira had been concentrating on making you live when she reacted. I believe that you might live quite a bit longer than expected for a human."

–I'll admit my expression was most likely a bit comical as he spoke that, but it is not every day a rider tells you his dragon may or may not have made you immortal. At the time, it was unsure, and I barely dared believe it, but as time passed, there was nothing I could do but agree with Brom's suspicion. Since that day, I didn't appear to age one day.–

–Hmm… Elva bears the same mark on her forehead, so I suppose she also could live for an extended amount of time. That is, depending on what Eragon's Saphira gave her. It is somewhat ironic that Eragon's father and his dragon's namesake got into a similar predicament. Ah… well I'm glad Brom felt he could restrain from cursing me. But back to the story.–

I gaped at him before shutting my mouth and calming my mind with an exercise Gwendolyn had taught me in order to stop the panic mode my mind seemed so often to drift into when faced with unexpected situations. "It has happened or it did not. I suppose I will find out in the years to come."

Brom stared at me for a minute and then, after seeming to question me further, he sighed. "You are far to pale, and I know your fever has broken, but it is still too high. We did not save you only to have you die on us. And unfortunately, blood loss cannot be healed by magic."

"What are you saying?"

"Take a nap."

"I… no… Just no." He smirked at my irritation, but there really was no logical reason for me to resist. I was exhausted and attempting to stand, or even sit, without help, would have led to me fainting or to some other similarly embarrassing end. Without protest, I settled into the blankets and did not fight a yawn, mentally trying to run the events I knew of one more time before I settled. Then, as he went off to tend Saphira, I drifted off into sleep.

–And with that, I shall conclude this chapter. –

I just couldn't write this one. It went through five rewrites, and I still don't completely like it, but I am going to post it anyway. Please leave a review and tell me what you think.