"Truly magnificent," he said.
"I can't imagine that you're seeing much up there but the tops of trees."
"It's an ocean of green and white. There is life all around us in these trees. It reminds me of home, a bit."
With that, he dropped out of sight and branches shook in sequence from the top to the bottom, shedding their snow. I was concerned that he'd somehow fallen, but I shouldn't have been. He landed lightly at the base of the spruce, brushing off his hands. He paused while the mini-avalanche of snow from the tree showered down.
"Now, I've promised you a spar. We'll do this by Seeker rules, if you don't mind. Unpowered weapons only, no killing blows."
"Sounds good to me," I agreed. With my natural regeneration and Nanite assisted healing I wasn't worried about injury.
A clearing about thirty feet across near the cottage with relatively flat and even ground underneath the snow served as our arena. We squared off on opposite sides. Kiril drew his daggers, holding one in his left hand in a reversed grip with the blade along his forearm.
With no referee to blow a whistle or ring a bell, our fight just started on its own. I strode forward, my boots breaking through the crusty snow and Kiril came to meet me, leading with his left blade and watching me closely.
I felt confident with Excalibur in my hands. I'd killed a lot of bugs with it, after all. I felt sure that I'd be able to give Kiril a good fight. Maybe that's what dogs felt when they chased cars.
The skill I'd implanted what seemed years ago, Improvised Blunt Weapons, had given me a base level of skill with the wrecking bar when I'd been clearing Pax. I'd also implanted every other combat-related skill in the Pax library in the time Metra and I had spent clearing the station. All of those and my hard-won experience seemed to come together as I moved aggressively to attack.
I swung the hook end for Kiril's leading knee, Excalibur actually whistling it was moving so fast through the air. Kiril was there, and then he wasn't. He flowed smoothly around my attack like liquid lightning, moving to my right. He was close enough that he could have reached out and cut me up, but didn't.
Cursing, I recovered and swung horizontally, aiming around the level of his hips while maximizing my reach with the long bar. Making it seem entirely natural, even casual, Kiril hopped into the air and alighted on the moving bar briefly before dropping on the other side of the swing. Once again he didn't attack, even though it seemed like he could have easily done so.
I shot out my left hand, desperate for a grip on the incredibly fast alien. If I could hold him still, I could hit him. Kiril didn't want that.
He ducked under my arm and for the first time, he cut me. It felt like two gentle brushes along my left side. I spun, trying fruitlessly to hit him with Excalibur, but he was gone again.
He stood a few feet out of my reach, in a relaxed pose. His blades were dripping blood onto the pure white snow, and in surprise I reached my left hand down and felt the two long, shallow cuts. They were already starting to close. This wasn't a fight I could win. Hell, I'd be lucky to score a hit.
"Jake, I fear we are too mismatched for—" Kiril started to say.
I yelled something incoherent and charged. Excalibur was in my right hand and already swinging, while my left arm was flung wide. Kiril looked surprised but was far too experienced a warrior to be thrown by an unexpected attack. Instead of simply moving aside he reacted the way I'd hoped he would. He was going to teach me a lesson.
I bent my legs and back, lowering myself to aim Excalibur's swing at Kiril's center of mass. Kiril gracefully hopped onto the bar again and ran up my right arm with a serious expression on his face. His two blades were at his sides, points toward the ground.
Kiril kicked off my bicep, forward flipping while his blades flashed toward either side of my neck. With all the strength in my coiled legs, I pushed off the snowy earth and into the air. The top of my head smashed into Kiril's child-sized ribs and drove all the breath from him in an audible whoosh. I felt something on my neck and shoulders, but was too busy to worry about it.
Kiril tumbled through the air, limbs flailing. His wings fluttered but seemed unable to affect the outcome. He splashed down into the snow, ably breaking his fall with his arms.
I brought Excalibur down hard right behind him, hook first. The very instant he hit the ground he was moving to recover, but stopped himself as he looked up at Excalibur's two glistening points just above his face. He slumped back, and relaxed.
"I win then?" I asked.
"Let's call it a draw," Kiril offered and indicated his neck with the point of one of his blades.
I reached up and finally noticed what I had been feeling—the rush of blood from a cut on either side of my neck, one for the carotid and one for the jugular. The wounds closed quickly, but before they did they'd let out a lot of my juices.
"Sure, a draw," I agreed, and helped him up.
"A fine match, Seekers!" a voice said from our left.
I looked over to see Regar standing under a spruce looking quite comfortable in the snow.
"Hey, Regar," I said.
"I'm glad to see you're not above a bit of hubris when sparring with a young man like Jake here, Kiril. It's good
