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PrologueThe woman tried to negotiate the slippery mountainside, her long crimson robe heavy with rain. Shestumbled on a rock in her haste and cut her right foot, the blood pouring over her sandal and onto the ground beneath it. She gritted her teeth, but kept going, limping a little now. Her eyes were straining to see far above her, upinto the dark clouds of the storm that raged about her. She knew two men were up there, men she knew well, but themurky vapours that swirled around her had hidden everything but the path underneath her feet. The womanstruggled on, her long brown hair being whipped about her face by the wind and her ears full of the rumblingthunder.Suddenly, her gold eyes widened as she neared the end of the path and she caught a glimpse of two figures.Holding the drenched skirt of her robe with both hands, she rushed as fast as her cut foot would allow her, up the jagged mountain. Finally, she came to the peak; a flat stretch of rock, several strides across in size.The mist did not reach this high and the woman could clearly see the two men she had been looking for,facing each other as though in battle. She attempted to draw closer to the pair, but was stopped by an invisible barrier. She stood at the edge of the summit, watching the two men in the middle. One man, nearer to the womanthan the other, had his back to her. He was tall and dark-haired, wearing a dirty black robe. Although she could notsee them, she knew he had emotionless red eyes that gleamed with malice. Involuntarily she shivered, as sheremembered those eyes from long ago, before they had become so hard and calculating.The other man stood a little distance away, facing his opponent and the woman. His skin was a sickly whiteand the woman could imagine the beads of sweat forming on his brow. His long white hair and beard were beingmercilessly thrown about by the wind; his white robe was splattered with wet earth and blood. She longed to dosomething to help him, but was powerless against the barrier.The woman could only watch as the two men battled on the summit, not with swords, but with power;invisible surges of energy that raced from their hands. The man dressed in white stumbled backwards, as a rush of the other man’s power hit him hard in the stomach. Winded, he managed to send an unseen force from his hands thatknocked his opponent off his feet. Snarling, the young man got to his feet.“You will never defeat me, Malashon,” he said. “I am too powerful for you now. I have possession of theonly thing that can beat me. Your efforts are useless.”Malashon eyed his rival and took a shuddering breath.“Zudarak,” he said. “You will not walk upon the other world while I have breath in my body.”Zudarak’s eyes shone.“To be fair, I do not believe you have much breath left,” he replied, mockingly. Another surge of power fromhis hands sent the elderly man reeling. “Come now, have you run out of ideas? Then kindly step aside and let mecontinue with my plans.”The woman saw Malashon trying to recover from the blows he could no longer defend himself against. Shefelt a pain in her chest and, for a fleeting moment, wished she had summoned the others. But she had made adecision to come alone and now, thanks to the invisible wall, all she could do was watch. She could not even move,as if morbidly transfixed by the execution about to take place in front of her.With her golden eyes burning, the woman willed the old man to fight back, to defeat Zudarak, as she knewhe could. But Malashon, the sweat now visible on his face, did not seem to be able to summon up the energy to fighthis opponent any longer. The awful sound of Zudarak’s laughter grew louder and louder, until it drowned out thesound of the storm.Zudarak slowly approached Malashon, as the old man slumped to his knees. Crouching down in front of him,Zudarak pulled something from his pocket. It was a small glass sphere, filled with a strange light. He held it up toMalashon’s face, taunting the old man.“I believe this is what you have been fighting me for, all this time,” said Zudarak, softly. “It is such a smallthing to lose your life over.”
 
Malashon looked into the ball Zudarak held in his hand. Its strange light was almost blinding, especiallyagainst the colourless black of Zudarak’s robe. For a moment, all three people stared into the light, feeling the power  pulsating from it. A whisper of something rose above the sound of the storm. Malashon reached out, slowly, towardsthe sphere.Zudarak started, shaking his head as though to clear it. He pulled the ball closer to himself and snarled atMalashon.“No, there will be none of your tricks tonight, old man. I shall finally defeat you with this, such a simplething. You cannot defeat me without it, can you?”The woman could see Malashon continuing to look into the incredible light; his eyes, ever changing colour,seemed to be searching for something. From her position she could not see what her friend could be looking atinside the small ball of light. She could only hope to herself that there was something there to give the man enoughenergy to defeat Zudarak.Zudarak appeared to be getting impatient with his opponent.“What are you looking at?” The younger man demanded harshly, rising from his crouched position.Malashon only looked up at his adversary and blinked, his eyes changing from blue, to green, to gold.Zudarak howled, frustrated, the cry lost in the rushing wind. He grabbed the front of the white robe Malashon wore,lifting him from the ground, and thrust the ball of light in his face.“Speak!” Zudarak thundered. “I asked if you could defeat me without this.”Seemingly unperturbed and blinking a little in the light, Malashon looked into Zudarak’s eyes. They glowedred and fierce but Malashon seemed to have no fear. He paused for a moment, and then opened his mouth.“You are right, Zudarak,” Malashon admitted. “There is no way I can defeat you without that.”Zudarak’s red eyes glowed in triumph and, over to his right, the woman drew in her breath sharply. Zudarak threw Malashon to the ground and walked away, laughing softly to himself. “You are too weak Malashon,” the dark-haired man called over his shoulder. “You will be dead before you get the chance to see me enter the other world.”The woman watched as Malashon slowly rose to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, but had a strange smile onhis face.“You are not entirely correct about that, Zudarak,” Malashon cried.In disbelief, Zudarak turned until he could see Malashon standing in front of him. His red eyes took in the pathetic sight of the man before him. Cut bare feet. A ripped and stained robe that had once been white. Dirty,matted white hair and beard. A curious smile and a pair of eyes that looked disconcertingly alive. The storm ragedon as the woman could see a flicker of fear cross Zudarak’s face for the first time.“What do you mean, Malashon?”“I mean,” answered Malashon, “that although I cannot defeat you, I can defeat your purpose. You may be inthis world, but you will not enter another.” As he spoke, Malashon raised his arms and sent out a burst of invisible power straight at the ball of light held by the man in front of him. Startled, Zudarak allowed the ball to be pulledfrom his hand by the power and the blazing ball of light was thrown up into the dark clouds.At that moment, a bolt of lightning connected with the ball and there was a huge explosion of light andsound. All three people were thrown to the ground with the force. The woman lay on her back with her eyes shut, aloud roaring in her ears. She lay where she was until the noise had subsided. When it did, she opened her eyes andrealised that the storm had stopped. Slowly, she lifted her head and sat up.The dark clouds had parted and revealed the land of her world stretching out far below, but she could notlinger on the view. Looking across the summit, she could see that Malashon had crumpled into a kneeling position,and was relieved that the old man had survived the blast. Glancing across the small mountain top, the woman couldsee Zudarak standing facing Malashon, the recovered ball glowing in his hands. As he approached his opponent, anasty but uncertain expression on his face, the woman scrambled to her feet.“Malashon,” Zudarak growled. “What have you done?”“I have closed the other world to you forever, Zudarak,” replied Malashon, his face looking fatigued butsatisfied. “I told you. I could not defeat you, but I could defeat your purpose. You will never reach the other world.”With an almost animal cry, Zudarak lifted the ball of light in his dirty, scarred hands, and struck it againstMalashon’s bent head. The man fell to one side as the woman gave a small cry and beat against the invisible barrier 
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