“It’s very simple.” Malshash sat in a chair, gesturing for Davian to do the same. “At some point in your life, you died. I don’t know when—probably very young, though, earlier than you’d be able to even remember. So your ability to produce Essence failed. But somehow your instincts kicked in, and you began drawing Essence from around you using kan instead.” He shrugged. “You must have been doing it ever since. Stealing a little from here, a little from there. Sometimes from people, sometimes from your environment. If you were raised around the Gifted, it would have been too easy.” Davian felt
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