Gevaar was birthed on a planet on the outskirts Anoat sector named Tokmia. The planet surface was ice-covered and the arctic climate made it difficult to live in. Confined within the dimly lit buildings that remained in the abandoned mining facility, his parents had had him just hours after their transport shuttle had crashed into the planet killing all but his mother and father, who were kept safe by the containers they had been hiding in.
Due to the lack of supplies and the poor living conditions, his mother perished upon the birth of the child, much to the dismay of his father. Despite having cursed Gevaar’s very existence, claiming it to be the reason behind the death of his beloved, he had promised to keep the boy safe. Which was about as far as the promise went. The child survived through the scavenging abilities of his father, but only just so. Skinny and frail, the child faced abuse and neglect on nearly a daily basis.
As the child aged he began to go with his father on scavenging excursions, learning how to track and stalk his prey as well as cover his own tracks and become invisible amidst his surroundings. It was then that his father began to notice an unruly presence surrounding his son. As if he naturally blended into his surroundings, the boy could find and move into the perfect hiding and cloaked position as swiftly as a snake and would disappear just as quickly. Moving from spot to spot, nearly in the blink of an eye, he would come down upon his prey with such a veracity that it visibly startled his father.
The boys eyes seemed to light up, whilst they were hunting. With no computers or space ships to oggle at, as other boys his age would, he was focused only on the hunt. The simple task of blending and melding into his environment. Making a clean kill and disappearing just as quickly to survive in dangerous environments.
Gevaar would take to the darkness as his father slept, attempting to hone his stalking skills even further. Moving and adapting on his own allowed him the freedom to learn and move without the hinderance of his older and more clumsy companion. This would continue late into boys teens where he would have stumbled upon a derelict site housing a landing shuttle. The crew had been killed off long ago by the Oku that inhabited the planet, but had long since past through the territory.
Having alerted his father to the presence of a shuttle, they would escape from the planet 15 years after crash-landing on it, with a course set to the nearest habitable planet. Though this plan was altered only days into the journey as the shuttle stumbled upon a boarding craft.
The boarding party was quick and efficient, like specters in the night. Like quicksilver they eliminated the shuttle crew, coming upon Gevaar and his father last. Gevaar’s father had been drinking, and boldly swung at the boarding parties leader. The man wore a dark cloak and had shoulder length, raven hair that became a blur as he moved with inhuman speed. Gevaar’s father slumped bonelessly to the floor.
Gevaar let his cloak dissipate, eyes wide. He had never seen anyone move so precisely and with such control. Fear was replaced with the budding excitement of youth. He asked if it was possible to learn to fight like that. The man studied the boy with an impassive face but attentive eyes. He had not sensed the boy until he had revealed himself. Impressive for one so young.
He spoke of a place called the Shadow Academy. He told Gevaar that if he passed the Test of Lore, he’d be eligible to join the ranks of his Clan: Arcona. The man left the boy with a credit chit an a pilot to stay behind to operate the shuttle. Before going, Gevaar asked who the man was. “Marick Arconae,” he replied and turned to leave.
The venture to the Shadow Academy that Marick had spoken of was a quiet one. Gevaar had been mesmerized by his speed, wishing to apply it to his stalking techniques. If going to this Academy would help him become a better hunter, that was were he’d go. His attention would return to his father, who lay helplessly on the floor. With not even a glance to the pilot, he’d bring a blade across his father's throat and let the blood sleep into the metal grating of the floor.
He could only become a better hunter should he no longer be encumbered by the weight of another dragging him down. His father had served his purpose, piloting the shuttle as he was not aware of technology before only just a few days ago.