A young—by Warlock standards—apprentice holds out a hand and reaches for flame. Nothing. The wizened teacher laughs. “You're supposed to be teaching me. Not laughing.” The teacher's arm extends as one word hangs in the air, “Sword.” As quickly as it appeared, the blade vanishes. “That doesn't help.” “Sword.” In a flash, the blade appears again, this time at the student's throat. Both pairs of eyes widened. One aghast, one aglow. “Say it with me.” Two voices ring: “Sword.” A blade appears in each outstretched hand. A pair of wings form on each Warlock's back. Two Warlocks take flight and vow to never again look down.