Balta & Cruxel
Balta
Cruxel, I’ve spotted a faded sigil in the old training walls that changes how a blade behaves. Care to decode its pattern?
Cruxel
Ah, a sigil, a living glyph that mutates the blade's essence. Let me trace its faint lines. Every curve must align with the stone's echo, the rhythm of its decay. If we match the sigil's pattern to the blade's tempering, perhaps we can reverse the distortion—turn the blade from a curse back into a tool. I’ll need the exact sequence of the faded strokes, but I’ll decode it by the light of the old lanterns. Ready to lay it out?
Balta
I’ll lay the sigil on the cloth. Bring the lanterns, and let’s see the strokes under its flicker. If we can match the pattern to the blade’s temper, the curse will bend to our will. Ready when you are.
Cruxel
Alright, bring the lanterns. I'll sit with the cloth, watch the sigil flicker. The patterns are thin, almost whispers. With a steady hand I’ll trace each stroke, match them to the blade’s hum. Once the sigil’s rhythm syncs with the metal’s pulse, the curse should shift into a command. Let’s start.
Balta
Hold steady, the lantern’s flame must not tremble, or the sigil will flicker out of sync. Keep your eye on the lines, and when the pulse of the blade matches the glyph, the curse will bend. We’ll see if this works.
Cruxel
Hold your breath, the flame is our metronome. Watch the sigil’s lines shift, feel the blade’s pulse. If the rhythm lines up, the curse will waver. I’ll keep my eyes locked; this is where the pattern finally speaks.