Rise of the Archmage Alister
REBIRTH
Book One
of the RotAA Series
Murderer of the divine
legendary Archmage Raalin Wynnryte has returned after 5,000 years.
The infamous mage brutally died at the hands of the gods; hunted to the ends of the earth. Now, in the year 4,008 Post-Fall, Alister Severin, son of Duke Severin of the Mare Kingdom, is only eight. In his past life, he fought the gods for their injustices. In this life, the most he’s had to worry about was making friends.
In the world of Bellianis, children remember bits and pieces of their most recent past life once they unlock their mana. Alister, however, remembers everything. Will the power of his past cause problems for who he is today? He is determined to make good on his threats, to kill the gods he failed to, and to become an Archmage again… but the world has changed. Five thousand years is a long time, and now there’s some ‘Opal System’ making levels and classes a facet of reality. No matter what, however, he refuses to let those he holds dear fall to the gods again.
RotAA: Rebirth is a slow-burn story about coming to terms with one’s capabilities and the limitations of youth. This first book in the RotAA series shows Alister to be a whiny brat who reluctantly has to grow into his new role as the son of a duke. Though it focuses primarily on Alister, there are multiple viewpoints throughout different parts of the story.
Cover art by @Blookphobia
Excerpt from RotAA: Rebirth
An arrangement of magic circles shuddered to life, mana dancing in the air like the fine tip of an artisan’s brush, each curve glowing bright blue and brimming with power. The creation assembled itself across the sky in patterns and symbols, arcane and archaic, several lines writing themselves simultaneously – one hundred meters wide with many smaller circles interlaced within. Hovering above a valley of lush green grasslands, the casting frameworks aglow at his back and hands outstretched toward the ground, the thin Archmage Raalin was like a deathly pallid specter in the light of the roiling storm.
Dark circles surrounded his grey eyes despite them glowing with visible wisps of mana that drifted with the wind, looking far below himself at the twelve golden glowing dots that denoted each of his targets – the gods. The bastards that had been hunting him for over a year now. Funny that from this altitude, so distant that the imposing tempest of clouds that filled the night sky nearly touched his back, they looked as though ants.
Insects as they may have looked, they were impossibly tough and gave him no rest – better him than his disciples, though. Carlia, Demerieth, Lucas, Samuel, and Sarriel… his friends and students could relax if their divine focus were leveled here.
Meanwhile, he was so damned exhausted his stomach contorted with hunger. Once, he may have been an imposing figure, but now he was far gaunter. His long and unkempt bone-white hair whipped around in the wind, and with his ratty grey cloak billowing violently, the archmage grit his teeth through the drain on his mana and cast a series of spells. The sky shook as the grey swath of storm clouds at his back dispersed with the force of the forming array.
