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Celdor was in the gym, a training sword in his hand, as he sparred with a Marine, who carried a training sword as well. They were going back and forth, swinging and parrying, Though Celdor was obviously more skilled, the Marine held his own. Celdor was training him slowly, as the Marine had an interest in different hand-to-hand styles.

He continued the sparring, the Marine coming close numerous times, but Celdor was obviously more skilled. He saw working up a sweat, but he was smiling, He enjoyed sparring with a skilled opponent.

"Aha!"

The Marine lunged, as if to stab him, but Celdor stepped to the side, his foot out. Thye Marine tripped and sprawled forward, Celdor tapping him on the back with the training sword.

"You are dead."

He helped the Marine to his feet and they both exchanged words, though no one could really hear them. The Marine departed, leaving Celdor to mop the sweat off his brow. Instead of armor, he was wearing a gold-colored jumpsuit.

Celdor looked up, saw who it was, and laughed.

"I'm not laughing at you, Miss Fayne. I promise. It's the rather sudden offer."

He stood up, stretching out his sore chest muscles.

"Though, I'd have to decline for two reasons. I'm done with the sparring today, and that Marine has been training in swords longer than I've been alive. i'd watched him go at it before, which is why I asked him to be my partner. I've never seen you, and I don't know if you've ever been trained."

He twisted, loosening his lower back.

"I'm not trying to insult you. I have no idea what yoiur skill is. I'm merely saying that I'd have to see you in action before I'd be willing to spar with you."

He stopped and looked at her. And then laughed. Actually laughed.

"Oh, that's actually a good one. You bring up a good point, but it's not good enough. I could hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. You'd need to show me that you know what you're doing first. I'm not telling you to show me your style, but to show me that you know how to handle a blade."

He handed her the training sword. It was made of lead and rather heavy.

"There's a dummy on that far wall. Show me what you can do."

"I never said you were stupid. "

He sighed as he came up to her.

"You dance too much. Against me, you'd go down quickly. Dancing, contrary to popular belief, is a good way to get yourself killed."

He grabbed another training sword and stood in front of the dummy, the front of his body toward it. Almost too quickly to see, the sword lunged out and into the chest of the dummy, the left arm sweeping out and across the throat of the the dummy, as if he still had his shield on.

"Five seconds. I've killed people in less. Dancing works against opponents with heavy weapons or who don't know what they're doing. It's flashy, and looks nice, but it's rather ineffective."

He pulled the sword out. Though it was a training sword, and it was blunted, he'd managed to penetrate the material.

"If you like, instead of sparring, I could teach you. I could teach you how to actually defend yourself against someone. You actually make a beautiful sword dancer, but you need training to actually become a good swordswoman. I'd be more than willing to help you."

"And anyone can dance around a dummy and whack at it, without it striking back."

He got on the treadmill next to hers and set it for the same setting, easily handling the speed. He'd run up and down the hills and mountains of Greece when he was a boy. It was easier than it was back then, as he was in better shape an the treadmill was smooth.

"Ran from Adelaide to Kadina, Australia without stopping. The town was about to be attacked by a horde of undead. I got there to warn them, but I was in no condition to fight afterwards."