"First, relax your shoulders," the voice instructed.
Northern tried to comply, straightening his back and shaking off the tension.
"A sword is not a club. It should move with the grace of a leaf falling through the air, not the force of a hammer."
Northern nodded, adjusting his grip on the Soul Eater. It felt awkward, the sweat on his palms making the hilt slippery.
"Hold the sword like you would a bird," the voice continued. "Firm enough that it won't escape, but gentle enough not to crush it. Feel its weight. Let it become an extension of your arm, not just an object you wield."
Northern did not understand Jack that the voice was saying, but he complied, he tightened his grip momentarily, then eased it.
The moment he did however, a striking perception of the sword's balance flowed into him. He could almost feel it pulsing with a life of its own, ready to respond to his every move.
His eyes widened as he questioned, 'How?'
