The wind tousled Breaker’s hair and pressed his black sifan clothing close to his body. His enchanted boots clung effortlessly to the slippery surface of the ice flow as he rotated slowly on the spot, searching for his opponent. The portal could appear anywhere, and with the way the wind was whipping around, his heightened senses wouldn’t do him much good in detecting it. He’d need to watch every direction at once in order to witness his opponent’s arrival.

The martial artist crouched and drew a black diamond dagger from the sheath inside his boot. The sun, high overhead, glinted off the blade. Josh pivoted until he found the right angle and then held the knife like a mirror, watching behind himself in the reflection while covering the areas in front and alongside with his peripheral vision. It didn’t take long before a hole opened in the air behind him, and a petite woman lurched through onto the same ice floe.

Breaker barely had time to register the fact that she was Fallieni, based on her tanned skin and skimpy yellow silks. The second her feet hit the ice she slipped. She tried to use her spear pole to regain balance, but it slipped on the ice as well and spun out of her hands, landing in the water and floating away. The girl rolled over as she nearly followed her weapon, drawing an iron belt knife and jamming it into the ice to create a point of friction.

Sheathing his own knife in his boot, Josh turned and crouched, extending a hand to help her up. He got a venomous look in return, dark eyes glaring at him from behind a curtain of loose black hair.

“You are my opponent,” she spat in Fallieni, “I will accept no help from you. Finish me now, like a true warrior.”

“You’re not much of an opponent at the moment.” Breaker replied. His Fallieni was a little rusty, but he got all the words out in an understandable accent. He saw the woman’s ferocious eyes widen in surprise, and she nearly reached for his hand before going back to attempting to stand on her own. Her legs had slipped over the edge of the floe, however, and her fingertips and dagger blade barely clung to the slick surface.

“I do not need your help.” She cursed. “How do you stand on this… this frozen water?”

“Practice,” Breaker grinned. “And it’s called ice.” He raised his hands and summoned water from the river below, forming a bridge between his floe and the next to support the woman’s feet. As soon as her bare soles found purchase she sprung upwards and assumed a fighting stance.

“You have no honor,” she accused, “you bring me to an arena where I can barely stand, full of this… ice… and then you offer help instead of competition. What manner of man are you?”

“My name is Joshua Cronen,” he said simply, “and I came here today to meet you.”