Wars were meaningless to me. As long as I could live in peace with my wife and my Master, my in-law, nothing else mattered.
Unfortunately, no one could escape the ravages of time.
In his old age, my Master had become bedridden. My wife and I took care of him, but I had been the one by his side in his last moments.
It was then that he told me his lifelong secret.
A secret only I would know.
A secret I was forced to learn.
A secret I must bear on my shoulders.
Within my Master dwelled many lives. No. More accurately, he had the memories of all the previous shamans of the Grimhowl Tribe.
Their experiences, their skills, and their strengths. All of it had been passed on to their successor, bound to be the next-generation great shaman who defied the laws of the world.
My Master never used this power. At least not in front of anyone. Even when we made our escape, he fought only to defend, but never to attack.
