Vion's eyes grew as he watched the small sword appear before him. He was always easily fascinated by his father's small display of magic. He loved it so much. The boy picked up the sword with the smallest struggle. He never remembered how to hold it sometimes. It was always heavier than he expected when he picked it up. The boy walked off to the side to practice like his father would say. At first he started swinging it aimlessly, but he didn't do that for long. The motion of just swinging like he didn't know what to do was annoying him and making his patience wear thin.
He took a minute to understand what the metal thing in his hand was and how it felt. The sword was heavy, but still easy enough to move around should he have actually tried to. It started to scrap at the ground to feel how long the blade was. Vion just stayed to the side and practiced with the guidance of his father nearby.
He took a minute to understand what the metal thing in his hand was and how it felt. The sword was heavy, but still easy enough to move around should he have actually tried to. It started to scrap at the ground to feel how long the blade was. Vion just stayed to the side and practiced with the guidance of his father nearby.
