Stile had always been a good fencer. He had to be, for the Games. Weaponed combat was all too often a part of 1. B., or Physical/Tool.
However, there was something completely different about fencing against a weapon that was wielded not by a hand, but on the forehead of his best (and maybe only) friend in a magical land that should defy logic.
He did not let himself be distracted by the danger to Neysa's eyes after the first time he shied back and she marked his heart with the tip of her horn. He went fully into every spar with the intent to improve himself, and fairly soon, Stile knew without a doubt that he was among the top caliber of fencers in either world.