What are you doing here, father?
Michael’s words rang inside my skull. So this is Michael’s father. Isaiah Riverwoods, I thought as I stared at the man walking toward us. Even from a distance, I saw him clearly. He was tall; towering almost over six feet in height. His large frame was clad in the same golden armor that all Soul Dealers wore into battle. Well, except for Michael. I have never seen him in his armor. Isaiah’s hair was as dark as the night sky overhead. His cheekbones were high and his jaws were angled. Thick lashes and full brows framed his blazing golden eyes. There were a few lines around his mouth and across his forehead. He looks exactly like Angel boy, I thought. When he spoke, deep dents appeared on both his cheeks.
“You know very well why I am here, son,” answered I
