"A good name. It tastes of Metal."

A soft flush comes to my face. 

"It's a memory of a dream of a fictional divinity of metal, of whimsical wishes despite the time needed to get each thing, and of the slimmest of chances, redoubled." 

She smiles knowingly. 

"I was much the same, at times. Such a thing that ought to have always been so makes each moment with it no yet filled something untouchably vast." 

She presses her hand into the contraption, an onrush of heat and light blasting around her hand before it comes out, a set of bronze-like knuckles resting atop her palm. 

"Try these."

I tug them onto my hands from her smaller ones.

They heavy and cool mass of them fit neatly upon my hand, each finger slipping neatly in behind the nearly-solid plate, with tiny bits of articulation allowing them to shift into a slightly more rounded profile. 

I stretch, hands rising above my head as I feel the wight, pulling up my chest as my fingers tangle together at their peak, before swinging down swiftly. 

It's... almost jarring, the extra pull to the earth of them, and an instinctive flare of my fingers catches slightly as they move. 

Still, it's fluid and firm, something strong and sharp that I expect I could learn to use well, in time. 

She shakes her head slightly. 

"Your hands are weak, now. The metal is too heavy, and the design is not right for that." 

She slips them off expertly without allowing another word. 

"What do you think that you would work well with?"

"I know little of the subject." 

"I was thinking..." 

"A sword - especially one relatively light. Perhaps some sort of simple hand-to-hand method, using a more complete gauntlet or a power frame - I do have some extremely limited training in that sphere. Throwing knives, perhaps, or a traditional projectile sidearm that I can point and shoot, in the case that I need to have something that will function immediately. Ideally, I'd be able to work through a wide variety of options and integrate them together, or develop some style that allows for the calling and dismissal of weapon forms through the light - but as of yet, I have no such capability."

"Reasonable. Fighters of myth and legend rarely find their choices of weapon unsuitable, if their domain extends to that of combat. Still." 

She walks over to a closet of blades. 

"These areas are warded from injuries, alongside the weapons. Learn to examine those with your own will, or you will regret it." 

I breathe out and nod. 

"I hope to work to avoid that in a number of other ways, but yes." 

She opens it, and takes a slim epee out, shining silvery blade almost fading away in the warm lights of the gym. 

"The workmanship of this is... adequate." 

Her tone highlights how little simple adequacy means to her.

"Magesilver touched with Mythril construction, and a simple enchantment of durability and safety of use extended onwards. Such brittle worksmanship is..." 

She shakes her head slightly. 

"Take it."

She strides over, and offers it by the shaft. 

I take it, eyebrows raising slightly at the actions she's taking and the bizarre ethereal weight resting upon my hand, as if it was almost light then the air that I held despite the pressure pressing against my hand. 

My stance settles lightly into place from the faint memories of firmed balance from my training. 

A dark-steel dagger presses against the blade, gliding it aside as she watches her hand deflect. 

"Good. You know the importance of proper form, with this." 

She steps back. 

"I shall forge the foundation for a proper sword for you, in time. That blade is fit for purpose 'til you have the chance to obtain one of my design." 

She hums. 

"Unless you have any objections?"

"I'm somewhat unsure a blade this light and this focused on thrusts is what would fit best. A number of the classical depictions of light in combat are focused on edged weapons, rather than something akin to this."

"A panoply of them, then. My work does not especially need to be conserved, in a place such as this."

She offers her hand once more.

"Come, and we shall see what workings shall suit you." 

The resulting process is a bit of a blur, in a way - despite the simple groundness of the changing equipment and the constant evaluations. 

Odachi's and Wazikachi's alike fit fairly naturally into my hand, the arcs of the curved blades feeling rather natural after working my way through the a handful of simple motions, if I set aside the unfamiliarity of the heft of them hanging forward, while the straighter double-edged blades tend to feel... stiffer, almost? 

The exact profiles and intricacies of the differences of some of them are a touch beyond me, though I can sometimes feel something in the simple fit of it in my palm or the way the weight shifts as I go through the handful of motions she prescribed to check, and all the little oddities in the sound of the swishes through the air and the motions of the tip. 

The unbladed weapons are odder still - the combs and nightsticks are very usable, but they feel wrong. as an expression of my will, the gauntlet sinks in the memory of sapphire inside my own soul, but exalts me none-the-less and well...

The polearms are jerky, and cause more then one slip of my hand, the hammers and such are simply awkward, the daggers are something that I expect that Iron's sense of sharpness will aid with but that don't especially fit mine, the way that it keeps everything tight feels almost claustrophobic, though the way the darting motions are something that I can settle into well enough. 

The guns...

I stare down at the simple sidearm, and glance a touch confusedly over at Amaya. 

"Are you sure it makes sense to test this here?"

"Fencing is..." 

She mms.

"Not exactly what I expect you are used to, Jirachi. Swords can do many a thing, across the starsea, so precautions for such munitions are standard enough. It is safe."

I'm not too familiar with guns - I've never held one before, in my life, but I know enough to hold it in something of a steady state, both hands in place, and knowing how to flick the safety and point and shot with something remotely resembling accuracy, the bolts being caught in the air after a short journey. 

I shake off my hands as they jerk from the recoil. 

"You'll need more hand strength and adaptation to use such a thing. Still, a reasonable enough investment."

She hums, and guides her over to the forge. 

"Place your hand atop the metal, and tell me what you feel."

The metal is... cool, and sharp, though there's a certain... churning power beneath. 

It reminds me... 

It almost, reminds me, of the way that the lightness felt, the way that the lightness... shifted and shimmered, with the epee. 

It was incredibly light the whole time, of course, but it felt more real, when the motions stopped and the pause of the swings and stabs happened, it became something altogether more substantial - or rather less substantial? It felt perhaps a bit forced, at times, but... 

The motive energy behind that could perhaps be felt there, but I don't know how much that's reaching for straws.

Still. 

It's metal, and steel, and something mythical and magical.