The Loner's Bloodtrail

Henry was just a boy... once upon a time, in those magical days when you were young and carefree... when he was nine... a mere child... and he would soon become the most feared man, if you could call him a man, in the Universe.... in all of the universes for that matter.

Henry had been born into the Evil wolf pack, but had found out right away he was different than the others, though his blood was purely werewolf... he was human. He was a disgrace, but before they could cast him from the pack, he was saved by the only other human in the pack.... the sorcerer.

He was taught by this man, mentored by this man... he was the Sorcerer's apprentice, but like everyone who dwells in Dark Magic... he found at soon it isn't all fun and games. See... he was just a nine year old, a solemn, cold, beaten-down nine year old... when his mentor, the only person on earth he had ever cared about, died... the memory of that day had haunted his memory...

"Henry... you must go on without me... your apprenticeship has ended... take my pendant..." The old man whispered and took the golden string from his neck, the eagle claw that held the precious violet stone turned pure black the moment it touched Henry's skin. "Remember son... no one must know your name.... if they do, it must only be your first... names hold power... and you are no-one... like all Sorcerers, you don't exist to the outsiders eye, and who you are no longer matters... the only thing that does it what people think you are."