Chapter 2.1
The next morning Eragon and I travel to the mountains where he found me. Apparently they're called the Spine, for they look like the spines of a dragon.
"So you were hunting deer for food when you came across the stone and me," I say.
"Aye," Eragon replies.
I guess he wouldn't help me with trying to regain my memory, I think.
"I suppose we could go see Brom," Eragon suggests.
"Who is this Brom?"
"He's the town's storyteller. Most people think he's crazy to be talking about the original Dragon Riders especially when the Empire could capture him for it," Eragon replies walking back to town.
"Wait up!" I cry running after him.
So we begin to walk back to town. Once there we try to find Brom's house. Surprisingly, the house is easy to find with it being right next to the forge.
"Here we go," Eragon says.
We look around the inside of Brom's house, finding little to nothing of great interest.
"I guess he isn't here," Eragon said.
What is this? I think as my gaze turns to a book opened to a page on the history of dragons.
"Do you always mess with other people's things?" A voice shouts.
I jump, startled by the voice. The book slides into my hand.
What? Why did this book? I think as I remember when it happened at Eragon' home.
The door closes to reveal a person dressed in a black cloak. I snarl, eyes flaring.
"Brom meet my new friend. He arrived here a few days ago and doesn't remember anything about his past," Eragon explains.
"I see," Brom replies as he walks toward us. "Eragon would you step outside, please?"
"Of course," Eragon says.
Once Eragon was out of our hearing, Brom took the book out of my hand.
"I am curious. How did you move the book?" Brom asks me in curiosity, his bushy eyebrows rising slightly.
"I not quite sure," I reply. "You must love dragons to have all this."
"Let's just say I've seen things that only exist in your wildest dreams," Brom replies.
Suddenly I sense somekind of power rising from within me. I can't control it, the power's too strong. Without warning Brom flies backwards into a chair. He gets back on his feet and faces me.
"You are very different," He says.
"I am?" I ask.
"Yes. Different. Your hair and eye color have never been seen in Alagaesia before and what you just did are perfect examples," Brom explains.
Alagaesia? Is this the land where I am now? I think to myself.
"Until you rediscover your name, I suggest that you make an identity for yourself," Brom suggests.
"An identity?"I ask.
"Yes," Brom replies.
"But why?" I ask.
"Simple. Your memory was wiped clean correct? So you must create a new identity in order to survive here," Brom says.
"I think not!" I cry running toward him.
He steps aside and I crash into a wall. Getting to my feet, I snarl at him.
"I may not remember my past but I will NOT create a new identity for myself," I yell.
However much he wishes for me to just abandon any hope of remembering my name, I will not make myself a new identity and forget any chance to remember my old name. I run at him again, feeling a sudden surge of energy. He catches my right wrist and twists it backwards. A surge of pain flows from it as I pull back.
"Why did you do that?"
"Because if I didn't, you would have tried again and again until you succeeded," He replies.
"That may be true but it still hurts," I say as I try to not move it.
"Most of the time the past hurts doesn't it?" Brom asks.
"You are right about the past hurting," I say as I rub my sore wrist.