M. Follmer

Now that I have discovered what death is, I am overwhelmed by how long I have left to live... It is not a manner of speaking, nor is it a metaphor. My name is Oliver and until eight days ago I did not know that word and the weight of its meaning. No one had ever uttered that word around me. Furthermore, as far as I knew, no one had ever died. But knowing the term does not cover its immensity. Not then, not now. In Delos death does not exist. It is a model community in the north of the world, where there is no place for suffering, disease, or pain.

A prophesied king is born, but not all will benefit from his foretold conquests. In a realm where only clerics are permitted to practice magic, Kibure, a mere slave, draws the attention of much more than just his master after wielding an unknown force in a moment of desperation. In a twist of fate, Sindri, the priestess hired to strip Kibure of his power, defies the law, revealing designs of her own. This wayward pair will have to work together if they hope to evade capture at the hands of the Empire's most potent wielders.