There were six of us.
The Ritualist. The Mentalist. The Alchemist. The Healer. The Necromancer. The Metamorph.
We rose together and grew stronger together—until every one of us claimed the title of Archmage.
That was more than eight hundred years ago.
I clawed my way back to life through a ritual of my own making. But nothing prepared me for what I learned next: at least three of the six are still alive.
The Necromancer changed his name and fled to another land—but he can't hide what he is from me.
The Mentalist I know all too well. He is my blood enemy. And now the Healer has stepped out of the shadows.
Friend or foe? And how much can eight centuries change a man?
One way or another, I'm about to find out.