The next day dawned sunny and cloudless, the sky a turquoise blue. Liam was dressed in the simple, plain white tunic of a candidate and stepped barefoot into the yard. He was hugged and wished luck by all of the trainees he'd known from his time at the camp, and watched in awe by the newcomers. It had been known for candidates to die under testing, so it was a solemn occasion. They would all be watching his trials in the hope that they'd learn from the experience.

Liam soared easily through the fights, gaining confidence with each successive one as he defeated one after another of the masked warriors. It was important that his opponents were strangers to him so he couldn't anticipate their style.

The final fight was to be freestyle - totally without any rules, where any move, dirty or not, was allowed. Liam was unarmed, but he could use anything he could lay his hands on to help him. It was this test that he'd trained the most for with Hassam in their last year of wanderings.

After a swig of cool water at the edge of the roped off area, Liam took his place in the late afternoon sunlight. He was a bit tired, who wouldn't be after fighting almost solidly all morning, but confident that he had enough energy left to keep going throughout the fight to the best of his ability.

His opponent wore black. He also had a plain black mask and there was nothing in his garb to suggest his status in the ranks of Shang. He was tall and muscular, that Liam could see, taking his place on the far side with an air of controlled power, like that of one of the giant cats. Liam quickly weighed up his chances in a straight fight. This man would be senior, certainly, possibly even of Legendary rank, while Liam was small, slender and relatively inexperienced. He was also tired from his previous fights. No, an unorthodox method would no doubt be more successful.

The judge brought his arm down to signify the beginning of the fight and sprinted for the relative safety of the mess hall. He was a full Shang warrior himself, but he wasn't participating in this trial, and in this event in particular, bystanders had been known to be hurt. Liam ran too, hurdling the rope surrounding the fighting square and vaulting easily onto a barracks roof. His opponent followed, and Liam led him around the rooftops, jumping from roof to roof, getting gradually higher as he did so.

At last, with a lead of about ten metres, he jumped off the roof, spun in the air and hung, suspended by his fingertips from a second floor windowsill. Needless to say, this wasn't a standard Shang technique, it was something Liam's father had taught him when he'd been a little kid back home in Tortall.

The man jumped after him, landing lightly on the ground in a fighting crouch and looking quickly around for him. Then Liam dropped, gently hitting the man's neck as he landed. Full powered, such a blow would have disabled him. The fight was over. People poured out from the buildings to congratulate him.

Liam saluted his opponent as he was ushered away. Hassam laid an approving hand on his shoulder.
"That was the Shang Griffin, you know."
"What?" Liam asked, amazed. "How can you tell? He was masked, just like everyone else. The only one I recognised was you - don't they know that you're useless with a scimitar?"
"Yes they know, but no one else is any better than me. Its not one of the standard weapons. As for the Griffin, with that beak of a nose still showing, what do you think? Of course, he's old for a Legendary now - in his forties, I think. You were marvellous. Come on, let's get you fed before you go to the chapel."

After a light meal, Liam put on a fresh tunic, his other one was sweat- soaked now, and was taken to the Chapel of Mithros by Hassam. There was an orange robed Mithran priest there, with the Rat (the current Training Master) and the Shang Griffin. Hassam was right - his nose was rather prominent.
"Liam Cooper, you have come before use to become a warrior of Shang, in service to Mithros," the priest-mage intoned. "You have passed the tests that were set before you and proved yourself worthy in the fighting arts. . ."
"Worthy indeed," interrupted the booming voice of Mithros from the golden statue in the centre. They all turned to see it flex and turn into the living god, who stepped forwards off the pedestal. "Many thanks, Faithful, you have guided him admirably and have the gratitude of the Greater Gods."

The small, black cat, not one to be constrained by any human rules, vanished from his place at Liam's feet, where he had sat having followed the youth in. The priest mage was staring at the god, shocked, but the Griffin was smiling broadly.
"Greetings, master," he said.
"And to you, my warrior. You have done well, and your work is almost done. You will soon have time to rest."
"Thank you master."
"Now, my son, take my hand."

Liam shakily put forwards a trembling hand to be enfolded in Mithros's giant hand of gold.
"Do you swear to uphold goodness and justice in all you do, to educate those true of heart who wish to learn and to defy evil and chaos in all its forms?"
"Master, I do," Liam said, mentally forcing himself into the formal mode of speech.
"Then go forth and fight for me, my warrior."

Mithros gravely inclined his head to the other three, having completely cut out their parts in the ritual, and the statue stepped backwards and became lifeless once more. Liam was mentally reeling, awed by the experience.
"That was Mithros himself!" the mage exclaimed, completely taken aback.
"I thought he might come after a I saw you fight, youngster," the Griffin said gravely. He sounded respectful, but not worshipful. Maybe the elite of Shang had a closer relationship with the god that most mortals. "Hold out your hand."

Liam extended it and Hassam, the Griffin and the Rat examined it carefully.
"You were right, Jasham," the Rat said, sounding very proud. "Well done Liam."
"What?" Liam said and looked at his hand himself. On the palm was a golden dragon. Prodding it experimentally, he discovered that it felt no different to the rest of his hand, to touch or as part of him. It did feel slightly warm, however.
"Does this mean. . ."
"Yes lad," Hassam said, beaming. "Shang Dragon. Come one, let's go and announce it. They'll all be dying to hear how you've done after that fight."

The rest of the Training Camp was waiting impatiently for them in the mess hall. Liam walked down the centre aisle between the Rat and the Griffin, Hassam following behind. They stopped at the very far end and turned.
"Liam Cooper has been accepted by Mithros as a warrior of Shang. He is the chosen of Mithros, the Shang Dragon!"

There was an instant uproar. Students who had known Liam were cheering loudly; others talked in amazement. A few of the masters were nodding in satisfaction, as if their guesses had been proved correct. Liam himself could hardly believe it. He was supposedly the very best of the elite of Shang, the best warrior since the death of his namesake, the last Dragon.