[She gives a small nod, one corner of her lip quirking slightly, and while she does not say anything, she demonstrates. She brushes her fingers over the blade, touching the crystal, and allows some of her magic to trickle out from her fingertips. The metal shimmers around its edges, and it all coalesces into the crystal at the blade's center, its glow brightening as it stores more of that magic.]
My wind.
[Of course it could hold the magic of others, but she would very much prefer it if it were only hers that it drew from and that he would use. It is her gift to him.]
So that you always have a little of it in your pocket.
no subject
My wind.
[Of course it could hold the magic of others, but she would very much prefer it if it were only hers that it drew from and that he would use. It is her gift to him.]
So that you always have a little of it in your pocket.