Harrowheart is still unfamiliar with Felix's particular style of magic, but as he watches the process unfold he realizes that it isn't so dissimilar from the sort of thing he might see on Azeroth – especially, he recalls, from the necromancers he's seen practicing their craft. And so when Felix assures him that there will be no trances he's visibly put at ease and finds himself quick to nod seriously.

The blades, for their part, remain suspiciously quiet until Felix steps into the circle. When they find they suddenly have company – and such amenable company he is.

They impress upon him a sense of comfort, of calmness. In this binding circle – no, in their presence – things are right. They are not dangerous. Quite the contrary, they are a protecting force, and one which welcomes Felix into its shade. Most importantly, spiritually they are the same blades. The same twin mind that Felix contacted not so long ago. Their imprint is nothing but familiar in every way. These blades, though they may be fused as one, still know Felix. They still know his magic, too. The deal he struck with them still stands. Because you are a good mage, Felix. A powerful mage. One capable of wielding tremendous strength....

Strength such as them.