Chapter 11

The Expanse, The Gullington, Scotland, United Kingdom

The sword sliced through the cool, damp air, making a whistling sound. Gen's breath clouded before her as she faced the invisible foe on the cold, unforgiving grounds of the Expanse of the Gullington. Her boots pressed into the frost-hardened earth with each maneuver.

The wind howled around her, a wild chorus that matched the fierceness in her heart, whipping her hair and the fabric of her attire into a frenzied dance. She lunged forward, her sword slicing through the chill air, an echo of battles long past vibrating in her grip. With each thrust and parry, her movements were fluid yet sharp, honed by years of discipline and the raw emotions churning within her from her abrupt plunge through time.

The metallic trace of the blade cut through the wet scent of the Expanse, grounding her in the moment, even as her mind roiled with the dissonance of centuries. She could hear the distant clash of steel on steel from memories that clung to her like shadows, guiding her hand in a ballet of aggression and control.

Gen spun, her sword arcing gracefully yet deadly, as she imagined striking at the heart of her confusion and frustration, battling the invisible enemy that mirrored her own turmoil.

The sky above was a tumultuous canvas, reflecting her internal storm, with clouds racing across as if fleeing from unseen pursuers. Her every breath was a defiance, a claim to her strength and resilience, each exhale visible in the cold air as if casting out the specters of her dislocation.

As she halted, standing amidst the quieting winds, Gen's chest heaved, her sword lowering but her spirit undiminished, the silent moors bearing witness to her unyielding resolve.

"You can fight, but that's no surprise," Sophia said, having snuck into place around a table of weapons, giving Gen a coy smile.

With ragged breath, Gen lowered the sword and shrugged. "My father taught me when I wouldn't shut up. He said women should be pretty and I said, I'd rather cut bad men. I won in the end."

"You're a legend in the making," Sophia observed. "We just need to find you the right weapon. Which is why I've enlisted an expert to help."

"A gnome who is the breathing and beating force of this land?" Gen pretended to ask. "Or a stoic warrior who knows everything about what a dragon is feeling by looking at them?"

"My husband," Sophia answered with a sly smile, holding up her hand to the grounds where a dashing tall and dark-haired gentleman dressed in armor strode out. He was both modern and old-world in appearance. "His name is Wilder and you've met his boss, Subner, the Protector of Weapons, who lives with Father Time. And, of course, he's also a rider for the Dragon Elite."

"Of course," Gen agreed with a nod. "And I have met Subner. He is the unhappy type."

Sophia chuckled. "He'd wear that like a badge of honor. And yes, Subner presides over all weapons and my husband, Wilder, is his assistant."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the man with piercing blue eyes full of old wisdom said when he neared Gen, wringing her hand.

"So what does it mean that you're the assistant to the Protector of Weapons?" Gen asked, watching as the dragonrider, with a grace to impress, pivoted, making his way over to the table of weapons.

He withdrew a sword, testing the balance in his hands and then turned around, smirking. "It means that I feel and know every experience every weapon has ever been through just by touching it. This is a blessing and a curse. I can see through time, to histories not told. I can see death when I touch a blade. But I also know the strengths and weaknesses of every weapon and how they failed the one who wielded them, or rather, how the one who held them failed."

"That's chilling," Gen said, when Wilder handed her the sword he'd picked. She exchanged it for the one she'd been exercising with. "So what would you have me do?"

"Practice," he answered. "We're going to find the weapon that matches you. The one that will play to your strengths while minimizing your weaknesses. I'm sure, as a Beaufont, this won't be hard. They all seem to magnetize to weapons, about like how you and Sophia magnetized to unhatched dragon eggs, which I shouldn't have to tell you is quite rare."

"I'm glad you did tell me," Gen said, giving Sophia a pointed look. She swung the sword through the air a bit, testing the blade's weight, deciding how she'd like to use it. Then she neared the wooden post meant for sparring and wheeled around in a full circle and brought the sword across the wooden pole. The beam didn't give, the metal blade did, shattering in two, ricocheting through the air.

Everyone froze, looking around at the aftermath of what had just happened there. Then Wilder threw up his hands, a wide grin on his face as he laughed with surprise.

"Did you just break the sword?" Wilder asked, a look of shock and amazement on his face as he regarded Gen.

Her gaze jerked down to the sliver of the sword that had broken off the top of the weapon. "I'm sorry. Maybe the metal is brittle from age."

"It's a giant-made sword," he pointed out. "They only get stronger with age."

He leaned over and picked up the piece of the sword, inspecting it. Then he glanced back over his shoulder at Sophia, grinning as he held up the piece of broken metal. "She broke the sword."

"It happens," Sophia said with a laugh. "Maybe that just means a sword isn't the right weapon for her."

"I think you're correct," Wilder stated, trotting over to the table of weapons and grabbing a bow and a single arrow. "Let's try this. It's a great weapon for riding on the back of a dragon. I happen to love a bow and arrow and it suits this whole Robin Hood look you've got going on."

"Oh, finally a reference I can understand," Gen said, taking the bow and arrow. "I quite like the idea of being like Robin Hood. Maybe I can be the new, modern version."

"Yes!" Wilder cheered, pointing at the target in the distance. "Now let's see how your aim is, Miss Robin Hood."

Gen gripped the bow in her hands, nocking the arrow into place and pulling back the string. She had shot with many a bow in her day, hunting and policing the streets, as she often took upon herself to do, against her father's insistence. But that was the spirit that won her the role of warrior—a position she never wanted.

If Gen was honest, since finding that dragon's egg and hearing his voice in her head, she only ever wanted to be a dragonrider. But that wasn't an option that existed in her mind until the first dragonrider arose and then it's all she could think about. Now, she was being given that chance, in a brand new world, with a vast field of possibilities.

Feeling a hope like she'd never experienced before blossoming in her heart, Gen stretched back the string even more, lining the arrow up with the target. Then, just as she was about to let it go, she felt a snap, followed by a zinging noise and then an assault as something broke.

"Did you just break the bow?" Wilder asked her, rushing forward, not mad, but utterly confused.

Gen glanced at the bow in her hands with a broken string and the arrow that had faltered to the ground below. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I was just concentrating and… Maybe the string was weak."

"Maybe the string was brand new," Wilder countered with a laugh. "I put it on myself this morning." He glanced back at Sophia with an amused expression. "She broke the bow."

"I saw," Sophia said, patting the curled elfin-made sword on her hip fondly. "It's because Beaufonts like blades. I have Inexorabilis, Liv has Bellator and Rose has Paternus. Give her something with some teeth."

"What about a javelin?" Wilder offered, trotting back off to the weapon table. He picked up a long wooden spear with a sharp tip, spinning around and facing Gen. "I feel like I know how this is going to go, but hey, humor me and try it. Can you throw this at the target?"

Gen took the spear, finding it sturdy in her hand. She nodded, glaring across the grounds at the bullseye in the distance. Then she raised her arm over her head, pulled it back and flung the javelin with a grace to impress.

It spiraled through the air, whirling like an acrobat before it connected with the center of the target. On impact, the handle of the spear splintered and broke in half. The tip of the blade pierced through the target, breaking it into pieces, sending bits of the board ricocheting and then falling to the ground. The whole thing landed in a total mess on the grass, broken javelin handle, target and separated spear tip.

Wilder gave Gen a muted stare. "Did you just break the javelin?"

"I think that the handle was splintered," she said with an apologetic look.

He shook his head, glancing at Sophia. "She broke the javelin." In a mock display of annoyance, he marched over to the wreckage and looked down at it. "And this is why we can't have nice things, isn't it?"

Sophia laughed. "So we haven't found Gen's weapon. It's just going to take a bit more practice. She is magnetizing to her dragon and we both know how complicated that can be. Her strength will be coming and going until she gets a handle on it."

"I didn't break a single thing while magnetizing to Simi, my dragon," Wilder said with a laugh. "Just so you know, Soph, you're her sparring partner. I'm sitting out on this training. I don't like having my bones broken."

Gen gave Sophia an apologetic look. "You don't have to spar with me. Maybe I am a bit angsty right now."

"Of course you are," Sophia said, smiling thoughtfully at her. "And you can spar with Lunis. He'll be a good match for you. But first, I've got another training exercise for you that's a little less hands-on and a bit more mental focus."

"Do I have to think?" Gen asked, giving her a worried expression.

"Worse," Sophia answered with a wink. "You have to feel."