Elias 1
Elias stood in his room, glancing over the small collection of swords that adorned one of his walls, just above the small unused desk he mostly used to hold his supplies for keeping all those swords. Stuff like a cloth and whetstone for sharping and cleaning. Extra leather strips. Some spare sheaths. Whenever he had used it for actual schoolwork left behind by the tutor his mother had hired for him and his sister, he would shift the extra debris to the side so he had just enough space for his book and notes. Which was to say he often barely had any room for his book and notes. He wasn't the most intelligent boy. Nor was he the dumbest. But he had never taken to studies quite like his sister had. Elias preferred to actively move his body around. He found it much easier to pay attention to Cahira than he did Brasha. The man rambled on far too much.
Thankfully, today was a day he wasn't here, which meant the boy could do as he pleased. He had returned a half hour earlier from a jog to and from the nearby town, to keep his body agile and loose. Now he was trying to decide which of his swords to take down and swing around outside. He did like the straighter one with the thin blade. But the thicker one was nice and heavy and would help in the strengthening of the muscles of his arm. Grabbing that one, he took it down gingerly, being extra careful of the sharp edge that it didn't snag on anything or himself. Though he had little interest in actually using them to spar, he still kept them razor sharp. He wasn't sure why, but keeping a dull blade felt wrong. Neglectful.
Unfortunately, as he brought the weapon closer to his face, he noticed that it did seem to be a little bit dull. When was the last time he had taken care of this one?
Instead of going outside, he sat down at his desk with his back to the wall and pulled the cloth towards him and over the blade, trying to rub some smudges carefully away so it shone once more.