stalker, taken from the Dark Isle during the war with the Coalition. Like all shadow stalkers, he had darker skin, but his had lightened with age and lack of sunlight. His hair was gray, like Drevin's, though unlike Drevin, his was long and unkempt. My father saw little reason to allow the man the means to maintain himself.
"Thank you, Goren, for all of your years of service," Drevin said.
"Forced labor," I heard my mentor whisper under his breath.
If my father heard him, he chose not to acknowledge the comment.
"You have done a fine job training Makari to be a proficient shadow warrior with the limited resources at your disposal."
Goren snorted. Neither Goren nor I were allowed to leave the academy during my
childhood, and my mentor wore a recinder. It made training me almost impossible, but Goren did what he could. The recinders were a metallic collar worn around the neck, made with an alloy called beryllonium, which drew all the energy a shadow stalker needed to draw on their power from the shadow world. When worn, it rendered a shadow stalker as helpless as any other human. I wore one as well when I wasn't training, but as of today mine had been removed indefinitely.
"He hasn't been tried in the field, but he is ready to begin his hunt for the delohi-saqu nonetheless. Thirteen years ago I promised if you trained my son, I would set you free. It's time to keep that promise," Drevin continued, then turned toward me with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Kill him."
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