He sat in the sunlight for the first time in three ages . Sentenced to eternal gestation in the bowels for Tarturus, there was only one thing that could have triggered his permanent release.  Valeria had broken the seal of ancients and forsaken her charge.  The burning in his chest signified the heartbreak and betrayal that radiated through his being. He had given his all to stop the coming of  The Great Persecution, but his one Love, weakness, and tie to humanity had finally been broken, and now he was unleashed upon the world in a fury of rage, scorn, and disgust.  

The small stream babbled innocently, unaware of the mayhem that would soon befall the land, and uncaring that the  poisoned hands cupping the water  would forever taint the citizens who relied on it. Grass withered with each footstep, no animals could be heard from a ten mile radius, even the wind was quiet before his approaching storm. Before he could ravage the land that spawned him, he must first know what became of Valeria. Even though she had handed the keys to his soul over to one most foul he must know that she survived and at the very least kill her himself.

Water was still not his friend, steam rose from his hands and came out of his pores as he drank deeply from the newly poisoned brook. An incubus, he moved swiftly and his chisled features glistened with each ray of moonlight. He was moving too fast to see, never the less he was a sight to behold; a caramel angel that streaked through the grove naked save for the steam that was eschewing from his body.

Something to kill the hurt, something to extinguish the pain left over from his last remnant of humanity he thought. Before that thought was finished he found her. Her small frame strapped to a tree, encircled by eight hooded figures.  Valeria’s head lolled to the side.  This would be easy, his muscles flexed as he stepped into the clearing.