P R O L O G U E
Derek laid on the cold ground, his hair damp from the rain and his body sore. Blood ran from the cuts across his arms and chest. In the distance he could still see the demon Kelzith clutching the Eye of Gorin in triumph. Derek brushed aside some of the black hair that now covered his scalp. Even in this chaos it came as a shock that he had such long hair. So very different from his years in the Temple of Hiliath.
With some effort he managed to get to his knees and turned his eyes once again to the demon. Derek's Cold-Phire blue eyes narrowed in anger at the cool and casual way the demon held the Eye. It was not yet midnight judging by taste of the rain and yet the demon had grown so confident that it had yet to make it's way back to its master.
Derek gritted his teeth as the pain from the scar upon his stomach rocked him again. He had been marked for the taking by the demons dark master and could feel his soul being squeezed with the help of the scar. He cursed Andre'al for taking him from the temple and trying to make him fit a long forgotten prophecy. She had no right, flashed angrily through his mind.
He staggered to his feet as the rain came down harder. He had tracked the demon clear across the world to this remote location in Australia only to have it laugh at his attempts to take the Eye from it. It stung him how easily he had been duped by Andre'al. How easily he was led to slaughter by the very one sworn to protect the Eye. He would make her pay as he would make this demon. She had named him a Death Dealer and he would show her how right she was and wipe that mocking smirk off her face.
Derek staggered towards the demon calling up the Cold-Phire as he did so...