I'd like to start by apologizing for leaving my page for such a long time.
I've been extremely busy and grown away from Fanfiction as a whole,however I do intend to attempt to publish more chapters to existing stories due to the sheer amount of emails I've gotten requesting that I continue. Now you will glean the fruit of a much more mature and literate person than I was all those years ago.
_

The trip from Therinsford to Ilrea was taken at a very slow pace. Eragon could easily have used magic to expidite their trip,but he chose not to. Not only did it give Saphira time to grow accustomed to human life,but allowed the new functions of their bond to grow as well. Saphira grew more and more accustomed to her human body as the seemingly endless days went on. Nothing more happened to expand upon the Therinsford Kiss, but it had changed the nature of their relationship on a fundamental level. No longer did Saphira seem to view Eragon as her rider,but rather as a friend and potential mate. Eragon had also bugan to sense greater power welling up in Saphira as the magic of the Dragons began to manifest itself into a smaller corperal shell. Her intitial clumsiness had shown it; narrowly missing rocks when she fell,
the horse getting spooked only after she had a firm grip,dresses seemingly repairing themselves overnight. Eragon attributed it to luck until they were ambushed.

They peacefully rode on seperate horses now,not speaking verbally,but allowing a raw flow of thoughts to pass between them. It was peaceful and tranquil to have such an intimate connection,Eragon thought to himself. Leaves fell on the trail as the slouch of cold winter began to grip the land. Suddenly a tendril of existence began to manifest in Eragon's awareness. "Saphira..." As he spoke,an arrow flew from somewhere in the the shade of the forest and struck her brown paint mount. It fell dead instantly,
injuring Saphira's leg as it fell. As the hail of arrows flew at lightning speed around them,Eragon dodged and ducked,watching as some fell to his hastily casted wards. He felt a violent rage build in Saphira,as primal and ancient as all dragonkind. Eragon knew she'd become attached to the paint despite her prior disdain for horses. No arrows touched her,nor did any of them fsll. The yellow and orange leaves that fell were suspended all around her with the arrows. Nothing seemed to move around her as she wept for the pain of her leg and the loss of her equestrian friend. Eragon reached out briefly to her consciousness,but was struck by a barbed black arrow in the shoulder.
Suddenly,Saphira's mind was rage itself incarnated. She was a living conduit for all the ancient and forgotten magic of the dragons. One of their unseen assailants flew out of the brush and slammed into a rock nearby,jarring the dappled green hood from his shaven head. His eyes bulged above his half-mask as the arrows around Saphira flew into his chest in rapid order. Before he could die,the tan rock behind him exploded,launching his broken body into the undergrowth. All of this occured in just a few seconds. One of their assailants stood to take a better shot,but simply ceased to be. His body exploded,leaving what was once a dappled green cloak covered in bone and pure gore. Dozens of yells broke out as the assassins drew their weapons and began to charge the Kingkiller and his beautiful companion. Wrought iron met star-born steel as Brisingr met the blade of the fleetest assasin. He broke off the blade contact and ducked a ham-fisted swing and disemboweled the man in a quick motion before impaling one of his charging compatriots.

Saphira stood with a color to her pale cheeks. The broken bones in her leg flew back together,seemingly of their own accord. She gracefully tilted her small hand outward at an assasin who promptly burst into blue flame and died. Another made it close enough to draw back his axe,but before he could deliver his blow,the axe decayed a thousand years in his hands,rusted,pitted,flaked,and faded away to dust. The man tried to use the ancient language to blow Saphira away from him but she cupped his chin and stared into his eyes.
A small purple light flew out of his body and into Saphira as his corpse paled,then turned green and mummified. Eragon could suddenly sense an addition of memories and knowledge to Saphira's mind. She also seemed to gain all the energy his body had ever held amassed in her body. Eragon was engaged in a lethal duel with the man who seemed to be the leader of the band. Clad in black armor,he moved like an elf,parrying and hacking at Eragon who could never seem to land a blow. He lunged a stab that skidded off Eragon's unarmored collarbone. Brisingr snaked and struck the back of his knee,finding a chink in his armor. The man fell as all of his underlings rose into the air from their firing positions and were mummified just like the last man. Varied colors of light melded and flew into Saphira before floating back out as blue and shaping into a blue sword,for all the world like Brisingr,but thinner and composed of light. It fell into Saphira's delicate hand with a thud as some terribly dense metal that no mortal could hope to lift,let alone swing. The last Assasin swung for Eragon from the ground only to meet the back of Saphira's hand,which knocked him flat and rolled his helm away. He struggled to heal himself and rose to his feet. His dark hair matted to his thin,hollow face as he tried to swing his blade at Eragon. Suddenly ,his jaw was unhinged and in Saphira's free hand as his arms fell,severed by the Blue Sword. Then his jaw broke his skull and he breathed no more.