“The Marks aren't straightforward, they just appear that way!” Alex Roth cried, his mind was ablaze, like he was reaching new levels of understanding he’d never known before.

Everything he’d learned seemed to have been for this moment.

This revelation.

His mind began considering the Marks.

“Each Mark has a power that helps with its role, but there are inefficient ways to use them, and better ways to use them, ways that maximise their potential!” he said out loud. “If I look at them individually…”

An image of the Champion—of Hart Redfletcher—came to mind.

“The Champion’s Mark gives him supernatural strength, speed, and toughness, as well as equips him with the skills of all previous Champions: from the time he got that Mark he became a supremewarrior…” Alex mused. “But if the Mark isn’t filled with more techniques, the Champion stagnates! He’s better if he’s not just content with using what previous Champions learned, he has to learn new techniques and skills in order to enhance the abilities of future Champions! If he doesn’t, the next Champions won’t be stronger in all ways! And that strength…”

He thought about the blood magic ritual he’d used to enhance Hart. “Greater strength, toughness, and stamina means that a person can train their body to higher limits! The Mark made him stronger than he already was, but the process I used, enhanced his body further—and he was able to endure the transformation because he was already so tough!”

Alex made a fist. “The wrong way to use the Champion is to treat it like a static boost of power and skill; it's actually a foundation that shows its true power, if you build on it! A Champion has to train and keep adding new techniques beyond what their Mark gives them!” Alex paused, "Okay, so how does this apply to the Sage…”

The image of Drestra of Crymlyn Swamp came to his mind.

“The Sage grants that Hero a vast mana pool and enhances the power of their spells, but it doesn't teach them any spells!” he said, growing more excited. Alex remembered fantasising about getting the Mark of the Sage back when he and his family visited Port Mausarr. “Back then I could see myself casting an entire storm of forceballs, since I didn't know any other spells!” He shook his head. “What a waste of the Sage’s Mark that would have been! The power of a Mark isn’t meant to just enhance some basic spells you already know, it's to grant the Hero the power and magical endurance to both learn new spells, and how to apply them in strategic ways!”

He slapped his forehead. “But the Sage’s Mark doesn't tell you to do that! You'd have to figure that all out on your own…so what about the Saint, then. Does the same thing apply there?”

The image of the Saint—Merzhin—came to Alex’s mind.

“The Saint’s Mark gives that Hero a direct connection to Uldar, granting them a massive amount of power…but it doesn't teach them about faith, the creative applications of divinity, or how to strengthen the soul!” He returned to pacing back-and-forth, his hands gesticulating wildly. “I don't know much about divinity, but I’d guess that a Saint who explores how to use their miracles, would be a lot more effective than one who just mindlessly heals their companions! But what about Cedric? What about the Chosen?”

The image of Cedric of Clan Duncan came to mind.

“So the Chosen’s Mark gives him lesser versions of the other ones—strength and experience in combat, like the Champion, powerful mana like the Sage, and a connection to Uldar like the Saint—making the recipient a pretty devastating combatant…” He licked his lips. “But the Chosen’s Mark doesn't tell the bearer how to combine those disciplines effectively! There's a big difference between a Chosen who just swings their sword and then stops to cast a spell, then stops again to use a miracle…and one who uses their gifts to give themselves openings to use their spellcrafting to enhance their fighting ability while using divinity to heal and enhance their bodies.”

He licked his lips again. “It’s far more effective for a Chosen to use spellcraft, divinity, and combat synergistically, rather than individually. But the Mark of the Chosen doesn't teach how to do that! None of them teach the Heroes how to maximise their potential…so who or what is supposed to teach them?”

An answer instantly came to mind.

“The Heroes would need a leader, one who could not only teach them how to work together in battle, but also how to maximise their gifts. They would need a leader who could think creatively and adaptively.” He reached for his right shoulder, touching the Mark of the General. “A sword above a scroll…battle and knowledge coming together…what if the General was supposed to teach the others how to think creatively and adaptively?”

He was so close, he could feel it.

“And how would it do that?” Alex wondered out loud. “If it simply showed you your own success to improve spellcraft, divinity, and combat…then you could very easily fall into a rigid way of doing things; a General like that couldn't effectively teach the other Heroes how to strategize and maximise their Marks. So, without a need—without necessity—the General would have no reason to develop themselves creatively! I bet Uldar created that need, by making sure the General’s Mark doesn't help directly with combat, spellcraft or divinity…”

He paused, mulling over a question. “So what's the answer to that need? If the General doesn't help directly with those three disciplines…oh, by the Traveller…”

The answer came to him from an unpleasant memory.

He remembered sitting in his room in Alric just after he’d gotten the Fool’s Mark, reading a book he had little use for.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

A History of Our Heroes and their Opposition of the Ravener, by Finnius Galloway.

And what was it Galloway had said?

The Mark of the Fool is a useful, but pitiful Mark. While The Champion is granted incredible strength, speed and the martial skill of all his predecessors, The Sage’s mana pool expands many times, and The Saint gains a divine connection to Uldar himself, the Fool gains no great gifts. In some ways, it is the opposite of the greatest mark: The Chosen. The mighty Chosen gains lesser versions of the three preceding marks and the ability to synergize them all, but The Fool gains nothing. In fact, the Mark of the Fool actively interferes with any action related to Combat, Divinity or Spellcraft but in return, The Fool gains vastly accelerated learning of any skill unrelated to these areas. Thus, The Fool can become the Heroes’ guide through the wilderness, learn to operate watercraft, scout enemies, repair equipment (though they cannot craft great weapons), and take care of horses. Such things are needed on every adventure. Previous Fools have also become fine painters, jugglers, musicians and mastered other such skills.

“Unrelated to these areas,” Alex whispered. “But are they truly unrelated? The Spear-and-Oar Dance has a lot of forms that could be applied to combat…and learning about mana manipulation, and the architecture of spells helped me with spellcraft. So what if the answer isn’t to ask the General to help with spellcraft.”

He was almost vibrating. “What if the answer is to ask the General to guide me in using skills from outside of spellcraft to enhance spellcasting?”

Alex had to test that question. Immediately.

He scanned the room, thinking about what his first test should be…his eyes fell on the celestial fox, who was curiously watching his ranting and revelations.

The young wizard was only able to communicate with her because he’d mastered various celestial tongues. He’d absorbed entire books on vocabulary, grammar, accents, musicality, tone and audio-prestidigitation in order to learn different languages of the planes.

“What if I applied that learning to spellcraft?” he wondered out loud.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to try.

If he was right…

He began speaking the incantation for greater force armour once again, this time calling on the Mark of the General, focusing it on the task of applying his skills with languages to incantations.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, the Mark flooded his mind with images.

He saw himself practising different tonalities across many tongues—seeing the times he’d succeeded, and the times he’d failed—as the Mark showed him exactly which lessons would apply to spellcasting.

From the images, he attempted pronunciation, repeating how a word was said, improving his pronunciation of the incantation, compressing the syllables by conveying the words of power with new ranges of tonality and auto-prestidigitation.

The result: he was soon conjuring the spell faster than before.

Greater force armour appeared, sheathing him like a glove.

But, he wasn’t through, yet.

Just as he’d always done with the Mark of the Fool, he didn't let his first success be his last. Over and over again, the young wizard spoke the incantation, focusing the Mark on the same task.

New mistakes appeared in his mind, things to be avoided.

New successes appeared as well, things to be built on.

Each time he was able to learn more about how the aspects of planar languages could be applied directly to speaking incantations.

It was addictive. He could keep repeating it all day.

He got so caught up in identifying the constant improvements, trying something new, learning new lessons, that he lost track of how many times he actually cast the spell.

It flowed from his lips faster.

It was clearer on his tongue.

Easier to say.

Soon the words seemed unnecessary.

As he continued, going deeper into the intricacies of how language could improve his spellcraft, he had a thought. Long ago he watched Professor Ram casting spells with only what appeared to be a twitch of his eyebrow.

‘What if I bring body language to spellcraft?’ he wondered. ‘Was that how Ram just twitched those spells into existence?’

He focused the Mark on the force professor, analysing his body language, and how it might apply to spells he’d cast during that class. Alex’s mind exploded with knowledge, images and inspiration.

What had looked like a simple twitch of an eyebrow at the time, now revealed hundreds of small movements throughout Ram’s body. A tiny shift of weight, a slight movement of his hand, a sway in his shoulders; all so subtle, that Alex had completely missed them.

But those tiny movements were especially profound.

Body language could communicate a great deal; a simple crossing of the arms could communicate more anger, defensiveness, or standoffishness—from the right people in the right situations—than a dozen sentences.

“The same thing can apply to spellcraft!” he cried, excitedly.

Using the Mark, he joined what he’d learned of body language with his knowledge of planar tongues to enhance his incantations.

The effect was immediate and profound.

More syllables were replaced by different tones and tiny shifts in his body language.

Separately, they meant little.

But together?

They made magic happen.

Breaths passed, followed by seconds, turning into minutes, perhaps longer. Over and over Alex cast greater force armour, only pausing to write down his results after realising he’d forgotten to do so from the start. He repeated the spell, casting it over and over, when suddenly, his mana dried up, something that hadn’t happened to him for a very long time. He was so intent on testing his idea that he’d run out of mana from a basic third-tier spell; greater force armour.

All this time, he hadn't even thought about mana regeneration techniques.

An elated Alex looked for the celestial fox and Bubbles, both had disappeared; their time on the material plane had passed and they'd been whisked back to their home planes.

“How long was I—” he started to ask.

“Um, Alex?” a familiar voice called from behind him.

“Gah!” the young wizard jumped, spinning around, finding Bjorgrund standing there.

The young giant squinted at him curiously. “Um, is everything okay?” he asked. “Father wanted to know what you wanted to eat; you've been in here for a long time. And… What's so funny?”

Alex was laughing.

Laughing with pure joy.

The young wizard had looked down at his notebook, taking in the numbers he’d recorded.

When he’d first begun casting greater force armour earlier, he was able to cast it much faster than most of his friends. By the time he remembered to start recording his times and results, his speed had improved.

Now, the results floored him. “Damn, that was half my previous time…I just cast a spell in half the time it took when I first started writing down my results…this shows me the true power of the General: it teaches its bearer how to think adaptively, and rewards that adaptive thinking.”

“That's…nice?” the giant said, confused.

“Hey, friend, are you feeling energetic?” Alex looked at Bjorgrund sharply.

“About the same as usual, a little hungry I guess.” The giant shrugged. “Definitely would be up for something after I finish eating though. There’s not much to do around here.”

“Then, after we eat, you wanna join me?” Alex asked.

Bjorgrund baulked, looking nervously at Alex's books. “I'm no fancy wizard—”

“Oh no, there won’t be any spellcasting involved…”

Alex grinned, looking at the Traveller’s sword leaning against the wall.

“I was thinking about something a bit…different.”