There's a trick to it.

[ He said it like it was a joke, but with no mirth, no smile. Watching him try to light it up with no success. ]

The sword is bonded to you, and only you. Until you die. Then, whoever claims the sword becomes the bearer.

[ Something stretched thin and tight in his chest, his throat threatening to close up as he cleared his throat in an effort to stave it back. ]

I never tried it, though, so. Maybe it just doesn't work now. I have no idea, really.