Fighting nature

Christopher stood on a cloud over a deep and long canyon, covered in greenery. He stood across from Stephen on the other end of the cloud as they drifted over the quiet and peaceful valley. "You see, Stephen?" He called out, sinking his blade into the cloud where it rested, as thiugh it had been stuck into the dirt. "These sites that we pass over? These are what I fight for."

Stephen scoffed and pointed his own sword in Christopher's direction. "Empty and barren canyons are what you fight for?" he mocked. "You are more pathetic than I thought."

"You see so much, yet you understand so little," Christopher replied. "I fight for the peace. Can you not feel it? Drifting up on a cool summer's breeze to us? It speaks to and accepts all people, caring not what their intents are. Yet your intention is to remove it."

"I'm afraid I hear none of this tranquility which you so long for me to grasp. I swear, you are but a child speaking nonsense at such times. It is hard to believe I have had such trouble ending your miserable excuse for an existence."

Christopher growled and ripped his sword from the cloud, wielding it with two hands from the shoulder. Stephen's sword was slimmer, longer - able to be wielded with only one hand, sacrificing power for mobility. Christopher had to keep a close eye on his opponent's movements. If he could not predict them, he would stand no chance at stopping them.

Stephen rushed forward, his cloud evaporating in his wake. Christopher pulled hard to one side, anticipating the sidewards blow that Stephen would throw, pushing his own blade in the way. The clash of steel was powerful, knocking Christopher back, and tumbling off of his cloud. 

A moment later, Stephen came barreling after him, using the tip of his blade to split the air below him, making him more aerodynamic. Christopher used all of his strength to fling his sword straight up and towards his foe. Stephen was fast, but he couldn't redirect himself well, and the sword cut straight through his leg, the hilt catching on muscle and lodging itself in place. The impact sent Stephen spiraling out of control, up and away from Christopher. 

With no weapon or means to control his descent, Christopher turned quickly towards the ground. His only hope was to lighten his weight to the point where the impact might not break him. He could feel the weight shedding off of him like layers, thrown into the air behind him. Then he hit the ground. 

He crumpled, mashing like a paper plane running into a wall. Pain filled his body, but as the weight slowly returned to him, he could feel that fewer bones had broken then might have. A few moments later, he heard Stephen crashing down. He had clearly not been so lucky. 

Christopher forced himself onto his feet and dragged his legs forward toward Stephen, who did not move. The man's own blade lay discarded a dozen feet away, Christopher's still lodged into his thigh. Christopher removed it, having to place a foot on Stephen's knee and crushing it to get the leverage he needed. 

"I tried to warn you, Stephen," he said, words slightly slurred by a weakening in Christopher's jaw. "You mess with nature, you ain't gonna win."