"Seven and a half's better than most people here." Some in the ludus were not equipped in the slightest for the challenge, and Barachiel could not help feeling for those who had been cluelessly thrust into this, their knowledge of swordplay limited only to sticking the pointy end in. "Maybe around the same," he said, unsure exactly of how to gauge. "The swords are heavier than your standard military saber..." He attempted a twirl of the wooden sword. "But hopefully with practice, I'll manage it."
The second question gave Barachiel pause. How could one gauge, exactly, how much he remembered if he did not understand how vast or limited the totality was?
"Not very much," he admitted, setting down his own training sword. "Bits and pieces. I remember giving confessions, blessings." Then he shrugged. "There are a few stray memories of what I assume are previous lives. How many of those have you had, do you know?"
It was surreal, how lightly they were discussing this. But it had been that way with Aidan, too, way back when the idea of reincarnation had first been presented to him. He supposed it was the sort of thing one was supposed to take with levity - taking it too seriously would only lead to all sorts of unnecessary troubles.