Greetings everyone, it's been a while but here is chapter 3! The story starts to pick up a bit of speed here as the adventure unfolds. I enjoyed writing this one, though it took a while. Thank you to all who remained to read, this story shall be completed even if it takes a while. In this chapter cadets clash in spars and a secret is found...

One scorching summer afternoon in the desert of Pyrrhia, a fledgling army was being trained in the relentless heat. The chosen dozens of dragonets from Scarab school had been allocated their positions. Outside the military wing of the Sandwing Stronghold they were being taught how to handle their first taste of warfare.

Their supervisor was a tough and smart-as-a-whip sergeant known as Addax. He wasn't the smoothest of tongues; taciturn and blunt, he never hesitated to point out when something a cadet did needed improvement. But though some blistered under his searing criticism, it was known that to earn a compliment from Addax was a worthy achievement indeed. He had put many young soldiers-in-training through the wringer, but all those that came out of it were more than ready to wet their teeth and claws with blood on a true battlefield.

The dragonets had been training for a little over a month since their choosing. Their schedules consisted of cycling through various combat and strategical lessons during the daytime. They had scheduled breaks to eat and drink, but these were few. As they were told, an army on the march never stops for long. If the dragonets were to prove themselves worthy they had to hone every part of themselves to a deadly proficiency.

At that moment two dozen dragonets, separated into neat groups of six, were being trained on how to fight an enemy on the ground. Addax addressed them loudly, walking from group to group and now and then making comments on the fights.

"In battle, time passes at an almost extraordinary rate. You could be flying swiftly to defend your post in one second, and the next!", he snapped two claws of his right foretalon for emphasis, "Lying on the ground, dazed and bloody, with one of your wings broken by an enemy spear. Though we dragons are creatures of the sky, the earth is from whence we all came. You must be able to fight if you are grounded to it and without your weapons. Otherwise you'll be as helpless as a baby mouse, and before long the enemy will finish you off or drag you away for interrogation."

For the exercises a pair at a time would fight in each group as the others watched. To ensure they were properly grounded each combatant had their wings bound with strong ropes of braided leather. The rules of victory and defeat were simple enough; they were to continue fighting until one yielded. As they were training any weaponry was made of blunted wood, and they were not allowed to inflict serious damage to vulnerable areas such as the eyes and wings. Bruises and bleeding would pass, but any breaking of bones or serious disabling would be severely punished. The cadets could not be pushed so far as death or permanent injury; come what may in real battle, the SandWing army did not want their new blood thinned and weakened even before they were ready. They would be taught more fatal techniques later, and only on practice dummies.

Currently in one group Marble was having her wings bound in preparation for her turn. Already she was buzzing with adrenaline for the coming fight. It had been tough adjusting to the rigid schedule of the army training to be sure. But Marble loved the instances when she got to learn, or throw everything she had at her training sessions. She'd been working on learning battle strategy as well as combat, because if she was to one day be a leader in the army she had to know how to plan their moves and adapt to any situation. In combat her style of fighting involved carefully controlled, precise attacks. Marble had learned to save her energy, and her anger, for when the time to strike was just right. It was far more effective than simply keeping in a constant flurry of teeth and claws.

Her opponent was one she relished the chance to fight: Cyrus. He had shown great skill in the more academic areas but was no pushover when it came to physical combat either. With his lithe build he relied more on redirecting the enemy's energy against them in a defensive stance. But at times, rather than coming off as an elegant manner of fighting, as some defensive styles were, Cyrus seemed almost vindictive in some of his moves. It was as though he reveled in making the enemy lose through their own strength.

Within a short time both dragonets had their wings bound and entered the fighting circle. There was no clear boundary, but the spectating cadets acted as a distant wall of sorts to keep the fighters confined. All were silent as they watched; it was forbidden to chat during training fights. Afterwards, when they went to prepare for bed, was when the fevered conversation spilled out.

A quiet drumming rose through the dusty air. One of the watching cadets, allocated as the timer, rhythmically banged a small drum of tanned camelhide as a countdown. Upon the tenth drumming the fight would begin.

Slowly, eyes clear and locked to one another, the combatants circled the arena. They were preparing themselves by taking in every detail of their opponent while they had the chance. As Addax had taught them, finding a weakness from the slightest posture change and a wince could lead to an easier victory.

For the moment Marble observed a quiet smirk on Cyrus' snout. As though he knew a weakness of hers already; but giving away your intentions was as much a weakness as a physical one. She wrote it off as a bluff and instead took note of a raw-looking cut on one of his forelegs. A recent enough wound, not serious, but one that would hurt quite a bit if struck.

*Bom*, *Bom*, *Bom*...

Time was almost up. Marble tensed her muscles and took a deep breath. She was locked in; all that mattered was the arena and the two fighters within. The final beat of the drum sounded; the sparring had begun.

For a few seconds all to be heard was a calm silence before the raging thunder of battle. Then Marble leapt, shattering it as though bursting through glass.

She flung herself forward at one of Cyrus' back legs in an attempt to try tripping him up. Like a striking desert snake he snapped away, giving a few quick bites to Marble's bound wings. He hissed as she glared at him angrily, goading her to attack. Marble stood her ground. She'd long learned it was a bad idea to act out of reckless anger.

Rather than rushing towards Cyrus Marble spun around, swiftly dragging her tail through the sand in such a way that it flung up an obscuring cloud towards the enemy. He rolled to one side, avoiding most but not all of the pesky granules. Marble saw her chance as he shook his head, third eyelid flicking across to clear away the debris from his eyes.

Ducking and throwing her weight forward, Marble shoved Cyrus in his midsection and momentarily knocked him down. He swung an outstretched talon at her snout and caused her to draw back. While she was disoriented he clung to her form, biting and clawing every part of her body viciously. Though it wasn't doing her serious damage every scratch stung like the bite of a desert glass ant. Thinking back to the wound she'd seen earlier, Marble shook and writhed in the sand to knock off her clinging opponent. She saw the vulnerable foreleg swing away from one of her wings; in that moment, she shot herself forward and bit down firmly.

A muffled growl of anger came from Cyrus, but to Marble's bewilderment his snout wasn't contorted in pain for very long at all. In fact, he had that same subtle smirk from before the fight. Marble heard a whoosh in the dry air and felt a soft breeze along her back. Her eyes widened as, too late, she realized her mistake.

A sudden prick on the back of her neck caused her jaw to clench. The sharp tang of dragon blood caught her tongue, her teeth having bitten deeper into Cyrus' leg out of sudden anger and pain. Then, rapidly, another quick stab, and another and another in quick, almost vicious, succession. Within half a minute Marble's grip relaxed along with the rest of her. Now she knew why Cyrus had been so smug; he wanted her to see the cut on his leg, and while she was focused on it, to sting her from behind.

Throughout the years Marble had been stung a fair share of times, mostly by accident. She had built up a minor resistance to SandWing venom, but still felt it's effects worse than the SandWings she'd grown up alongside. A sting or two would not usually mean the end of a spar but four or more was pushing it. SandWing venom had a strange numbing effect on her; she suspected it was an odd way of her body slowing the venom's lethality. Marble had never had the venom in her veins long enough to find out. The numbness was typically worst early after the sting; within a few hours it faded to be replaced by the common twinges of pain most experienced. She'd learned to be more careful of stingers during her spars thanks to these lessons. In some ways, her fighting was oriented more like that of another tribe because of this. But every now and then, she would make a mistake.

'Stupid, stupid... Cyrus is all about playing tricks and setting traps and I fell right in! Come on, I need to fight through...'

Marble removed her teeth from Cyrus' foreleg and backed away, shaking herself into awareness. Her body was beginning to feel numb. But Marble was nothing if not stubborn and she would certainly not let Cyrus have an easy victory. If she was going to go down in this spar, she was going down fighting.

Spitting out a gob of blood onto the sand, Marble growled and used her remaining strength to push into the sky. It was exerting thanks to the heavy ropes holding back her straining wings; her muscles ached through the numbing venom. In the bright desert sunlight the shiny black scales along her back and wings flashed briefly as she contorted in the air. It was something Marble had learned to take advantage of during a fight after watching scarab beetles fly about with their reflective carapaces. Most SandWings had rough scales that did not reflect light to better help them blend into the environment. NightWing scales were smoother, allowing better speed and agility in the right conditions.

With a muffled "Ooof!", Marble landed heavily upon Cyrus, who had been unable to move enough thanks to Marble's scales reflecting the sun into one of his eyes. The acrobatics had drained much of Marble's dwindling energy, the rest of which was rapidly being sapped by the SandWing venom.

As her muscles slackened they also became quite heavy. Cyrus was unable to move far, writhing about in the sand like a snake in an attempt to extricate himself. With a last great heave Marble once more bit down onto the same bleeding foreleg she'd already wounded. Anger was seething inside her, growing from the knowledge she had lost to Cyrus, of all dragons. Her teeth cut deeper into muscle as she swiped her claws weakly in an attempt to stop him from getting away.

But soon enough, as Marble could move less and less, he crawled out to stand triumphantly over her. Her jaw slackened and he was able to release his foreleg, though not without a few growls and winces. Cyrus shook his marred leg once freed, scattering small red droplets across the ground. There was a somewhat grisly wound left by Marble's teeth; a little deeper, she guessed, and she may have hit bone. Marble felt a small ember of satisfaction that she at least did some damage, even if she had, she knew, lost in the end.

She looked up at Cyrus, staring at her with a carefully neutral expression.

"Do you yield?" he asked, formally and without much tone.

Marble moved her sore jaw, shifting her head about to face him.

"Do you yield?" he asked once more, something dark glinting behind his eyes.

"I yield..." Marble squinted at him and croaked out a reply as best she could under the venom.

"The spar is over; Cyrus is the victor." announced the timing dragonet beside his drum, nodding at Cyrus before hitting the drum once.

In spars where the defeated was unable to move themselves out of the arena it was customary for the victor to help move them along with another cadet if necessary. Supposedly it was meant to be a show of good sportsmanship, though with Cyrus Marble knew it was anything but.

Cyrus offered a talon as if to help her up; he withdrew it with a lighthearted chuckle and said;

"Oh, silly me," he turned to one of the watching dragonets, a well-muscled male with flecked tan scales, "Crater, could you assist me with this?"

The dragonet obliged, moving into the ring and hoisting Marble up alongside Cyrus. Though he had won, and taken his chance to quietly gloat with his little joke, Marble knew that having to ask for help even in something as small as this stung him. Cyrus hated to show any weakness; much as he would begrudge it Marble was a heavier weight than he could move alone. With the burly dragonet's great strength aiding him Marble found herself out of the ring and into the small infirmary hut in no time.

Shortly after having her wing bindings removed Marble's sting wounds were treated easily enough with juice squeezed from a brightsting cactus. The plant was common around the SandWing Stronghold and kept in good supply by the tribe to counter SandWing venom.

Marble bit back a wince as she rubbed the juice in slowly; she'd done this process many times, but always it would burn a little on application. She suspected it might have something to do with the acids inside the cactus juice. Upon the cot Marble was laying she mumbled to herself quietly as feeling returned to her body, which ached a little from the spar.

"If only I was better in medical class. Then I'd try to change this dumb antidote to be less painful."

She thought back to it, for a moment. Early in their training the cadets had been put in a variety of classes to select them for splinter groups. Medical had been one of them; Marble felt as though she half-slept through most of it. While some other cadets worked with great enthusiasm and seemed to find the fix for every cut, sprain, and disease, Marble found she just wasn't good at it. Half the time she'd select the wrong antidote for an infection or wrap on a bandage without applying the added healing poultice.

Still, she reflected as she looked around the small but neatly-cleaned hut, she did appreciate the work done by medics. Without them casualties in battle and war would be far higher.

'My job will be to end lives and theirs will be to save lives. We'll all be doing our best for the tribe, though,' Marble nodded to herself and rolled over in the cot to push herself upright.

Though unsteady on her feet she was able to walk well enough. She exited the infirmary hut and idly observed ongoing spars on her way back to her ring. Some were fighting close-quarters with slashing claws and quick bites while others strafed and leapt around their opponents as they waited to strike.

A new spar had already begun in Marble's ring. She nudged into the front row of cadets and blinked upon seeing the pair of fighters. One was the large dragonet she'd seen before; Crater. The other was more familiar to her.

Torque was battling mightily with the bulk of his opponent. Though he himself was strongly built, Crater still seemed yet larger. The pair met and separated like clashing blades, giving a powerful blow before pushing back to give another.

Marble watched, rapt, as her friend gave a great leap and landed upon Crater's back. Knocking his head with his tail to stun him, the hybrid looked as though he might win this match. Marble smiled brightly at the thought and the venom's twinges of pain took a backseat for a little while.

Unfortunately her renewed happiness had an adverse affect she didn't anticipate as the spar progressed. Torque had almost gotten a proper grapple upon Crater, who looked somewhat dazed. Marble grinned and craned her neck to get a better view. As she moved, the sun reflected briefly off the dark scales on the edges of her wings. At the fringe of his vision Torque caught this small flash of light and instinct made him look up quickly. But, oddly, he met his gaze with Marble's jovial grin and kept it there for a few seconds longer than the short glance he was meant to do.

Crater felt his opponent's grip loosen just a little, but it was enough. In a movement surprisingly fast for a dragonet of his size he pushed himself from Torque's grip and reversed their positions. Now it was Torque who lay immobilized in the sand, confusion giving way to embarrassment. Crater's grip was solid as a sandstone block and just as heavy. Seeing with reluctance that the fight was over, the hybrid called,

"I yield. Crater is the victor."

The timing dragonet nodded and hit his drum once to signal the spar's end formally. Crater relaxed his hold and respectfully helped Torque to his feet.

"Well fought," he said in a voice that rumbled like a rockslide, "You might have beaten me, had you not been..." he leaned in and finished quietly, flicking his brown eyes towards Marble, "Distracted."

The burly cadet ended with a sly wink; Torque flexed his wings beneath the bindings self-consciously, a habit of his when ruffled. He nodded to Crater and the pair exited the ring. After having his wings unbound Torque made his way to Marble, looking back once or twice at the ring behind him.

Upon joining her the two backed off a bit from the other cadets and began to chat, as they typically did. Adder was usually with them but his group had already finished their set of spars earlier in the day and were on break time.

Marble quirked an eyebrow at Torque, giving him a friendly cuff on the shoulder. His mood seemed more muted than usual. "Hey, don't worry. Win some, lose some, either way, I'm pretty sure the next time you fight that guy you'll kick his butt! Looked like you nearly had him this time."

Torque shrugged his wings, "Yeah, I think I need to work on my focus. At least he seems nice though. I can beat Cyrus usually, but fighting him isn't all that fun." he shuffled his front talons, meaning to put one on Marble's shoulder but deciding against it, "I know you would have won today if it wasn't for his slipperyness."

"Slipperyness?", Marble snorted, "All right, I admit I screwed up, he got me with a bluff and I fell for it." she nudged Torque with a smile, "Still, you need to keep a closer eye on the fight. I saw you in there; you had him and then you looked away. I think my scales flashed in the sun a bit, I'm sorry if it hurt your eyes."

She cocked her head at him inquisitively, recalling Crater's hushed exchange with him at the end of the spar. It was obvious he'd noticed the mistake as well. Though he seemed to understand it better than she did.

"Yeah, I think I just spaced out a bit." Torque nodded, meeting his friend's dark eyes briefly before smiling at her, "Don't worry though. This is what training is for, so we can learn from our mistakes, right? Whenever I mess up and learn it means I'm just a little closer to becoming a soldier!"

With the mood lifted the pair of friends eased into laughter and jokes while now and then looking back at the ongoing spars. In a short while they were both dismissed to eat, drink and rest. Addax passed them briefly with curt assessments of their sparring performance. He first glanced to Torque, speaking briskly.

"The point of today's training was not to rely on your wings. You use them quite often in your spars, but even our wings may not always be there to aid us. All things considered you were doing alright against an opponent of formidable size for a while, but your focus slipped and you lost." He snapped a foretalon close to Torque's snout for emphasis, making him blink, "Focus! With it, you'll always have a fighting chance. Without it, even the greatest opponents expose weaknesses. Remember that."

Quick as a whip he turned next to Marble with his piercing gaze and added,

"As for you, you should have known better. Cyrus may not have muscle but his mind is as sharp and deadly as any dagger. You must be watching all of his movements, not just one."

Abruptly, Addax turned away from them to one of the sparring circles. As he began commenting on the spar in progress Marble ruminated on her failures that day while she headed back to the cadet compound with Torque.

The cadet compound of the military wing consisted of a few sturdy, large sandstone structures clustered together with a small restroom facility further away. The largest of these contained sleeping rooms for each cadet. The building was rectangular and divided so that every training cadet had their own room, albeit that room was very limited. There was just enough space for a basic single bed and plain nightstand. One thing the dragonets had been learning was that when on the move, an army would often have to settle for the night in any number of places. Whatever small crags or trees there were for shelter had to be made the best of. They were beginning to adapt to the idea of practicality over comfort.

Across from the lodging building was a smaller one of similar shape. It was the spacious hall where the dragonets often took morning and evening meals consisting of simple but nutritious fare such as locusts and cactus grubs. Mixed in with these meals was a little vegetation and something nicknamed by SandWing soldiers as "Scorpion hide". It had been introduced as a long-lasting food resource for the SandWing army some years ago by Queen Scorpion under the name of "Storage Rations". It consisted of specially dried and salted strips of meat taken from the large, hardy hares that commonly lived among the dunes. It's texture was notoriously difficult to chew through, hence the nickname created by the soldiers. It's flavor was salty and rather pungent, not very palatable but easy enough to keep down."Storage Rations" were begrudgingly acknowledged as a success for their great use in long campaigns where other foods would be more cumbersome.

Usually, when cadets were on break time, they spent it on the training field adjacent the lodging building either playing games or practicing combat skills. The field was simply a wide swath of flat sand with a few shriveled plants here and there. Lined up in two rows were target dummies constructed from heavy sandbags, rope and sticks. On this warm afternoon the field was buzzing with activity of dragonets that had finished their training for the day.

Two cadets lingered on the fringe of the noisome chaos. Marble and Torque were peering around in search of the third and missing member of their trio. Typically Adder was very punctual and knew his schedule by heart. It was common for him to already be there to meet Marble and his brother at the end of the day. Lately, though, Torque had noticed Adder seemed to be slipping in this regard. He told Marble of his observations as they took to the sky to get a larger field of view.

"He completely missed us after breakfast last week," Torque began, counting on one talon, "then a few days ago he didn't even show up after training until almost lights-out," He raised a third claw and shook his head, "and yesterday he was ten minutes late for battlefield logistics. Late!" Torque exclaimed as he threw up his foretalons, "My brother is never late."

Marble rode a few gusts of wind as she circled around alongside her friend. With so many other cadets down below it was difficult to discern Adder through it. His scales were not as easy to pick out of the sand as Torque's bright coloring. She raised her voice over the wind and said,

"I can't see him yet," she turned herself towards Torque, "You're right. It's really weird for Adder to be disordered like this. I'd bet my wings that there's something bothering him."

"I agree, he used to get like this sometimes when we were younger and the other dragonets made fun of us," Torque replied as he whirled around in the air, "When we find him I'm gonna ask. Adder doesn't usually keep things secret from us... I hope it isn't something bad." he furrowed his brow and looked away.

A shout from Marble snapped him back to face her. "Hey! Found him, he's down by the other side. C'mon!"

She folded her wings to dive, then flung them open and glided down to the other end of the field. Torque followed behind and almost crashed into his landing brother.

"Ack!" Adder exclaimed in surprise as he dodged to avoid an impact.

Both brothers ended up clumsily rolling to a stop on the ground. A few nearby cadets snickered quietly at them as they passed. Marble impishly stuck her tongue out at them when they weren't looking.

"You need to look where you're flying, Torque." said Adder as he got to his feet and brushed off the satchel he was wearing, "When we're soldiers there won't be room for clumsiness."

A scoff came from his brother as he shook out his wings, "Not like you dodged me super smoothly either. Besides," he added, moving to stand beside Marble, "If you'd been here on time we wouldn't have had to be up there looking for you."

Adder sighed and shrugged apologetically. As he moved to walk with his friends, Marble's eyes seized on something in one of his foreclaws. It appeared to be a large and empty water-skin. Such an object was standard around the SandWing Stronghold for mobile hydration. Still, something about it sparked in Marble's thoughts.

'Adder, walking through the desert with a camel-skin pouch...'

Her ears perked with realization. Adder had indeed been keeping a secret of some sort. One of the fragmented visions she'd had earlier that day seemed to suggest he was going off somewhere alone at times. It would explain his recent lack of a grip on his schedule, though the question remained as to where he was sneaking to and why.

That's it for this chapter, dun dun dun. The next will have Adder explaining just what it is that's been messing with his usually orderly self. It will also set the stage for the later parts of the story yet to come. I hope you have all enjoyed the story so far, feel free to leave a review with comments and/or criticisms if you wish!