He takes it with a curious, critical eye. Magic, is it? He can feel it. The faintest hum in his medallion. That's powerful magic, a weapon that can wield itself.

Nadine is right, though: it isn't to be relied upon.

He weighs the blade in his hand. Small, for him, but sized just right for her. Whoever crafted it, if it's as it is in the real world, too, they're skilled.

Or it's simply more magic.

"A little different than what we prefer train with." He sheathes it again and hands it back to her. "But we can work with it. The right weapon is only the half of it."