Grendal and Tyrin shared a moment of reunion and then broke apart. Grendal sat on a rock, his suit had ripped apart and his hair had become scraggly.

“Tyrin lad, I will tell you of how this,” he looked himself up and down, “was created.”

“Harshing came to our house that night with his cronies and tortured me, yes. He tortured me to near death. But he did not kill me. He left me with hatred and evil. I was to join the Death Eaters or die. I was a coward, so I joined them. Harshing showed me great things, he was my tutor.” He placed his head in his hands.

“I became sadistic, I took to eating other Human’s. I thought that I was becoming powerful but I was Harshing’s puppet, his weapon. I fashioned a new name – Grendal Thirstbroker, it was my grandfather’s name and my mother’s maiden name – it covered up who I really was and I forged my own death certificate.”

“Harshing took all of my possessions and made a small fortune from it. You may ask why I look different? Many potions created me a new face, new eyes, new skin colour – everything. I was no longer the perfect man – Sectimus. I was a brutal serial killer, Grendal Thirstbroker.”

He paused and sobbed. “But after I became loyal to Wittle I found love again, for another man. I could not continue when he died so I handed myself in. Then who should visit me other than you? I recognised you straight away, you never altered. You are my son. I knew you would return to me and set me free, I knew that you knew, deep down. And so you did. And you freed me. And now. I shall pass on all that I know to you before returning to my tomb.”

And so, the training began.