Hn...

[Ah, he's blushing again. Clearly there's no escaping this.

....Although-]

So does that mean you don't want it, and we should scrap the whole deal? Because you should have led with that.

[Like some kind of blush competition, just going back and forth.]

Yeah, you did. Which means you're under jurisdiction of a Lucian royal now, Crownsguard. So you have to accept your king's generosity.

[Just take the damn sword and enjoy it!]

Oh, uh.

[...You know, that feels like something he should actually know about, but he doesn't. He wasn't there when the others were sworn in, the power-sharing was more a private affair. Cor and Clarus handled all the formalities.]

Probably? But you don't need to do all that, it's pretty much an empty title here. I didn't do this with the expectation that you're my bodyguard now or anything. Getting you to do some kind of pledge is a little much, don't you think?

Geez... you usually call your teachers by their first name? [He exhales a quiet huff, scratching at his cheek. Not... that he'd want her to use the rest. He's not his dad.] Ah well. Guess I can learn to live with that one.

[Certainly a less heavy title than what he's more used to. He knows she's joking, of course- but that's kind of why he likes it.]

Now let's see, your first lesson will be... find your sword.

[Wherever did he put it? Magic hammerspace is pretty big, after all...!]

Yep.

[He should be nice. He should definitely give her the same patient tutelage as she's given him this whole time.

He's not Pyra, though, and she'd missed a crucial step in this exchange; the way he'd always been taught was far less gentle.]

Try and call it back.

[...O-oh. Oh no, that's too cute. Don't laugh, don't laugh.

He covers his mouth, trying to be subtle.]

"Please"?

[He's never tried the tactic of being polite to his magic to make it work before.]

I can't confirm if you're right or wrong, but it never worked for me. I think the powers that be prefer assertiveness.

[He can remember a handful of occasions sulking outside the Crystal's chamber, pleading for it to let him use his magic properly already; he'd used all sorts of platitudes over the years. Never talked back to him, not even once. The soul of the planet is rude. ...Or just mute, who knows.

Anyway, he's had his fun. Time to do what he said he would.]

First lesson: to call something out of the armory, you have to know it. What do you know about the sword?

...That's a lot from just a glance. Damn.

[He shouldn't be surprised, considering what he's known of her already, but still. Very impressive.]

The thing about the armory is that you have to know what you're getting when you reach for it. It should be instant, instinctive. The weapons aren't gone, they just aren't material in the moment- calling them is reminding them to be real, if that makes any sense. When you release them, you let them forget and become energy again.

[He stretches a hand out, pulling - and she might feel it now, a little flicker between their connected souls, unobtrusive and easy to miss, but there nonetheless - and his own sword appears in an instant, clasped in his hand. He dismisses it and repeats the gesture a few more times, each taking a split second, like a quick-draw.]

It might not come so easy for a while. Gods know it took me years to get to this point. But once you get used to it, it should be as easy as breathing. First, though-

[He reaches again, and this time it's her sword that appears once more, which he spins expertly and turns the hilt towards her.]

Know your weapon.

Probably. It's even older than Somnus though, so whatever it used to be called is yet another Solheim mystery.

[He steps in, reaching out to point at a scrawl of etched metal on the hilt.]

This is where it was lodged in the floor. There were some carvings in the wall next to it, so I just stole a word that fit- Durandal, "enduring strike". [His lip quirks.] Or if you want to be less poetic, "hard hitter".

Ah... I always felt like it was? Once it's part of the Armiger, the weapon's natural state is to be energy. If I'm not warping or holding it, or if I stop thinking about it, it's gone. The trick is learning how to make it stay.

[He jerks a thumb towards the blade.]

I called it out this time, so it's tied to me right now. Which means if I let go-

[The change is imperceptible; he doesn't actually do anything. But just like that, the blade in her hands shifts from solid to blue energy for a second before vanishing in a scattering of particles.]

-away it goes.

[It's more sluggish and hesitant than he's used to, mostly because it's been so long; the struggle of unfamiliarity at least isn't new. Prompto probably had it hardest, having grown up without the same proximity and understanding of magic as Gladio and Ignis; he can't imagine Pyra would have any more difficulty than them in the long term. In truth, her flaw is most likely that... politeness.]

Remember- assertive. Like pulling on a leash- the sword needs your direction so it knows where to go. The magic might be sentient, but the sword isn't. Focus on what you're calling and not how.

[She's doing it, though. His words are meant to make it easier, but she was on the cusp already. In a flare of those same blue crystalline shards, the sword rematerializes in her hand, and there it should stay so long as she needs it.]