The beginning of the end…booo hoo. LOL As I've warned, this is the last of my snippets. This is part one of two and it involves Nabil and his second Berin doing what I would imagine all warriors do quite often…sparring.

As for my never-ending snippet, that will reappear as a possible short story but don't fear, it will return. I just have to figure out a name for it. ;-) In the meantime, enjoy this and as always, thanks for reading.

~*~

He stood in the center of the ring with his legs braced apart. His eyes were closed; dark head titled back as he enjoyed the warmth of the sun as it shone down on his body. The warrior was shirtless, his skin already turning a darker hue, the tattoo's that graced his lean body standing out in vivid contrast. His hands hung down by his sides, one holding the blade of his choice, a weapon he learned how to handle in his youth, its form becoming an extension of his body. Its metal gleamed bright as the rays of the sun caught its freshly polished surface and bounced off, fractions of white that easily caught the eye.

Nabil felt healthy and strong; for the first time in a long while, he felt almost invincible. He had emerged from his trials forged stronger than any steel and at the moment, he was filled with the quiet joy of living. And an eagerness to test his newfound strength. What better way to test it than against the man who had become more than his second in command in the preceding weeks, he had become like a brother.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?" Berin's deep rumbling voice came from Nabil's side, interrupting his thoughts. Nabil opened his eyes and looked at his saHib, a slight smile dancing across his face. As imposing as ever, his massive body already exposed to the warmth of the sun, Berin's excitement and pleasure could be seen dancing in his dark eyes. Both men had enjoyed sparring sessions in the past, both relishing the chance to test the endurance of their bodies, honing their skills.

"Aiwa, I am sure." Nabil replied and took a step backwards, his arm swinging his scimitar in a few short circles. "Did you bring the daggers?"

"Aiwa, they are over by edge of the corral. This will attract attention," Berin predicted and also started to warm up, the muscles under his skin rippling, bearing silent testimony to his incredible strength.

Just then they heard Jameel's greeting and both walked over to him, exchanged pleasantries then asked him to keep score for the first session. When one warrior would hit a key point on the body or strike, it was Jameel's job to call out "nuqta" or point. If a blow was taken that was considered foul or not by the rules, Jameel would call out "la nuqta" and points would be subtracted.

"May I see them?" Jameel asked eagerly, eyeing the bundle Berin had placed on the ground near his robes and belts.

"Of course," Berin replied and a moment later, retrieved the daggers, unwrapping them from their protective cloth covering. The three warriors stared down at the gift the legendary weapons master Abul-Muhaimin had bestowed upon Berin and Jameel reached out to run the tip of his finger down one of the blade's handles.

"Come," Nabil smiled at Jameel's quiet awe of the weapons then poked Berin's shoulder. "Let us have a few warm-up sessions to determine when I can start using the dagger." He walked out to the center of the makeshift arena, and pivoted rocking back on the balls of his feet, his scimitar held loose but comfortably in one hand.

Berin couldn't hide the grin on his face and he shook his head. His walked out and joined Nabil, doing his own warm up exercises and when done, he crouched and waited. "You are that confident, then?"

"Aiwa," Nabil replied and took up a similar stance across from his saHib. "Ibtada."