“You have done well,” Alex heard the whisper in his ear.

“You have earned my full approval,” the god of Thameland said. “A new technique to enhance the Sage. Something from another discipline growing what you already possess. That is my way. With my second-in-command, the General, granting you his approval, I empower you fully. Go. Destroy the Ravener. Bring my will unto the land.”

The Mark of the Sage blazed like the noonday sun,

The transformed light flared brighter than the Saint’s original Mark, radiating from the surface of the dragon’s long neck, momentarily blinding Alex before he could shield his eyes.

He flew to the burning Mark and called out to Drestra. “Are you okay?”

“I am!” she shouted. “But my Mark feels strange, different!”

“That’s what happened with Merzhin!” Alex pressed his hand against the golden staff on her neck.

A searing pain blazed along his shoulder, power flowing through his Mark and into hers. The staff’s golden hue shattered, fragments of gold dissipating, changing colour then knitting back together in a blinding white light that Alex flinched away from. He grimaced, but was well pleased.

High above him, the Sage roared, the sound resonating through the forest.

Her Mark’s blinding light diminished, fading to a muted glow that had turned stark white, like Merzhin’s. “We did it, your Mark’s evolved.” Alex floated backward, examining the white staff glowing along her crimson scales. “How’re you feeling?”

“I felt some pain,” Drestra said. “But also more power, I feel amazing!” My mana pool…feels even bigger! And…the flow of mana through my entire body’s stronger! I truly feel more powerful!”

She dropped low, slamming her tail against the forest floor, quaking the earth where it struck. With a loud snap, massive wings spread, and—in a single wing beat—her massive form launched through the air in a blur of red. The dragon was faster, moving with newfound agility, her streamlined form cutting through the air, soaring high above the treetops. Draconic laughter echoed through the sky as each wingbeat drove her onward.

Drestra sailed along like a red stream; diving, looping, spiralling through the sky. She inhaled and with the sound of a roaring bellows, released a fiery breath from deep inside. Blue flame erupted and all around, the air shimmered. Even from Alex’s distance, he could feel heat from her breath.

Drestra paused, hovering in place while softly chanting a spell and performing subtle motions with her neck and wings.

Alex felt a wave of power rise, birthing a tornado of flame that erupted from her snout. The Sage’s burning whirlwinds weren’t new, but this one dwarfed any she’d ever cast before, scorching the air with power. As the tornado burned, the Purify Water spell she’d cast with her neck and wings manifested in a forest pond among the trees below. In a blink, silt and algae cleared from its surface, leaving sparkling water where a murky pond had just been.

“Yes!” Drestra cheered, tucking her wings into her body and diving toward the ground, it seemed to recoil when she landed in the clearing. “This is incredible! I was going to say that I couldn’t believe Uldar hid this from us, but that wouldn't have been true. Nothing he did would surprise me anymore. You know what Alex? I feel like I can do anything!”

“Oh no!” the General waved his hands like he was warding off evil. “Whenever someone in the old stories says, they feel like they could do anything, next thing you know, they’re off picking a fight with the biggest thing they can find, then they get their ass stomped into next year and back! So, please, don't say that again!”

“As you command, General,” Drestra said wryly. “I don't know what kind of stories you've been reading, but I'm not planning on doing anything so silly. I just feel so strong, so powerful. It’s amazing!” The dragon flexed her claws. “I doubt the Mark of the Sage was meant to empower a body like mine, one with my particular set of natural abilities…and I doubt Uldar expected a dragon to be Marked as a Sage.”

Alex beamed, suddenly understanding how professors could be so proud of their students. He placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “I'm just glad you were Marked.”

“Why? Because I’m a dragon?” Drestra asked.

“Because you're you,” Alex smiled, correcting her. “There's no one I'd rather see as the Sage of Thameland wielding so much magical power. We're going to do well together.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Drestra gave him a reptilian grin. “Thank you. When we first met, I’ll admit, I was very lost, but you guided me, and there's no one I'd rather see as the General than you; I'll follow you into the Hells, I swear.”

“You already have,” Alex reminded her with a goofy chuckle. “We fought there together, remember?”

“Ugh!” The dragon rolled her eyes. It seemed some gestures in body language were pervasive. I hope you don't mind, but I’d like to go show Thundar and the others what I can do now. He's going to be so impressed, and Cedric’s going to be so annoyed. Both reactions will be fun.” She looked down at her fellow Hero again, speaking with sincerity. “Truly, Alex. Thank you for being one of us. It will be one of the greatest honours of my life to fight beside you when we face the Ravener at the end of all this.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Likewise. I’ll be honoured to fight beside you too.”

With that, she spread her wings in preparation to return to the others. “You don't have to bother teleporting me back! I feel like flying!”

Alex smiled, watching her take to the skies.

“Glorious,” he said. “Just glorious. Two down. Two to go.”

He looked down at his shoulder. “Make that three to go.”

A day later, Alex and Hart Redfletcher were in the clearing, training.

The Champion of Thameland loomed over Alex’s impressive height, his dense muscles, even thicker than the General’s, bulged with every move he made. Hart looked down with large eyes.

He was fully armed and armoured, and in both hands was his sword crafted from the Hive-Queen’s claw. Alex still had mixed feelings whenever he saw it.

“You really like that sword, don't you?” he asked Hart on his way to the middle of the clearing.

“Cuts good.” Hart shrugged, following the General. “I don't have any great attachment to it, though. When the high priest makes his announcement, I'm gonna switch to one of Uldar’s big, old swords as quick as you can say ‘bye’. Or maybe I’ll take a mace or a hammer. I’ll see which weapon I feel like then.”

“That Hive-Queen claw almost killed us in the Cave of the Traveller,” Alex said.

“Well, I have a buddy in the Ash Ravens whose favourite sword was one he got on the battlefield…after someone shoved it in his guts. He used to say, ‘if it's good enough to cut me, it's good enough to cut them’,” Hart laughed. “That always made sense to me.”

“I guess it does…” Alex said, looking up at the Champion.

“So,” Hart asked. “Here we are after your heart-to-heart with Merzhin and your little dance session with Drestra. What you got in mind for me?”

Alex smiled, almost apologetically. “Nothing too exciting,” he admitted. “Mostly more dancing and how to manoeuvre while flying. If we incorporate the dances into your fighting styles, you'll have even more tactics and moves to choose from. I also want you to learn how to move more efficiently when you’re under a flight spell. It’ll be mostly self-explanatory, but if you learn how to fly properly, you’ll increase your manoeuvrability in the air. We’re probably going to be doing a lot of flying in the final battle, and you’ll be ready for it.”

“Dances to let me move better on the ground,” Hart mused. “Flying to let me move through the air more efficiently. Sounds good. So, when do we start?”

“Now,” Alex said.

Then paused.

“You're not clumsy on the dance floor or anything, are you?” Alex asked, apprehensively.

“Not really,” Hart said, jamming his sword in the ground beside him. “Clumsy folk don’t last long on the battlefield, plus my Mark made me extra agile. I'm not gonna be stumbling over my own feet for a week like some oaf, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “That sounds exactly like what someone who's about to stumble over their own feet for a week would say.”

Hart grinned viciously. “Then try me, dancing man. You can tell me if I'm clumsy after we’re done.”

“Alright,” Alex said. “The first dance I'm going to teach you is the Spear-and-Oar dance. That'll be followed by a couple more. So, are you ready?”

Hart cracked his neck to the left. He cracked it to the right. “Like I said, dancing man, try me.”

And so Alex did.

He started with the Spear-and-Oar dance, prepared to take the Champion of Thameland through the steps at a slow pace. But, Hart Redfletcher had other ideas, he had no interest in taking slow steps, nor did he need them.

In a short time, the Champion of Thameland was able to match most of Alex's stances, positions, and steps nearly perfectly. Hart’s large eyes watched the General intently, and his natural athleticism combined with his enhanced agility from both the Champion’s Mark and the blood magic ritual, saw him replicating the movements with ease.

Before long, Hart had a good foundation of the beginning steps, movements, and stances of the Spear-and-Oar Dance.

“Holy crap, you're a natural!” Alex shouted, watching the Champion flow from stance to stance as though he was born to perform them.

“This dance has a lot in common with some of the fighting techniques I've got in here.” The Champion tapped the side of his head. “Next dance?”

“You got it, Dancing boy.” The General grinned.

Hart grinned back.

Alex introduced the next dance. Then the next. And the next.

Waltzes, acrobatic steps, slow movements, quick movements…the Champion of Thameland absorbed them all in no time.

“You've got a real talent for this!” a surprised Alex complimented him.

“Maybe,” Hart grunted. “Helps to learn stuff when it's fun.” He peered up at the sky. “You got any more, dancing man, or we gonna take to the air?”

“Oh, I think we could…air out the rest of what I have to teach you,” Alex beamed.

Hart looked at him sidelong. “You know, if the Ravener was vulnerable to bad jokes, you woulda killed it by now, and your jokes would make sure it never came back.”

“Hah! If only!” Alex twitched his fingers, casting flight magic on his critic. “Alright, let's get airborne.”

The General and Champion soared into the sky, Alex immediately instructing Hart on the nuances of flight.

Hart would be getting both experience and instruction today.

Alex explained the manner in which air currents interacted with different shaped wings, and how some flying creatures weren’t able to perform certain manoeuvres, yet landbound creatures using magic for flight were able to. The General explained how that knowledge would be useful when Hart was in the air, and he told him about different flying races and sky dances that could be helpful when manoeuvring.

Hart absorbed every word like a sponge, copying Alex's demonstrations and mastering his movement in moments.

The Champion got creative.

He flew off, soon experimenting with what the General had taught him. Raising his sword, Hart began incorporating steps and stances from the dances into his fighting styles. He took to the air again, doing what Alex had taught him—asking questions—weaving all that he’d learned together seamlessly, bringing in new skills, creating new fighting forms. He was both graceful and powerful.

In the end, he paused, beaming.

“Hey,” He flew up to Alex. “Not only are you gonna help me conquer all our enemies with this stuff, but I’m gonna impress Tyris with my skills on the dance floor. Birger thought he was a terror? Huh…he hasn’t seen anything!”

The Champion clapped Alex on the shoulder. “Thank you. You've seriously done so much—”

Alex’s eyes fell on his Marked shoulder. “Wait, Hart, let go—”

Too late.

Alex screamed as Hart’s Mark—under the armour covering his bicep—blazed brightly as agony seared his shoulder.

“My eyes!” Alex screamed.

The Mark of the General flared, blinding Hart. “My eyes!”

Alex raised his hands, trying to block the Champion’s Mark…which immediately turned white, burning brighter as Uldar’s voice whispered.

Both young men kept screaming as the Mark of the Champion blinded them.

They tried to get free of each other, but Alex’s hand remained fixed to Hart’s Mark. They tangled around, losing balance, and crashing to the earth with an impact that rattled their teeth.

General and Champion lay face down in the dirt as the light faded.

“...Hart?” Alex groaned.

“Yeah, Alex?” Hart grunted.

“Let’s never speak of this again, deal?”

“Deal.”

And so, the Champion and General forged a most important pact.

One meant to keep secret their oafishness until the very grave.