imperfect Magic

After hundreds of years of dying, you’d think I’d be better at it by now…One moment, I’m a heretical priest in the twelfth century – hunted, hated, and on fire. Next, I’m waking up in the nearest corpse, stuck in an endless cycle of instant reincarnation, popping back up like a tarnished penny.Fast-forward eight hundred years, and you’d assume I’ve learnt something useful.Spoiler: I haven’t.Unless you count “how to die often and dramatically” as a transferable skill.Now, my territory in the South of France is under threat; I’m trapped by some impossible angel-forged runes, and the celestial choir seems to have swapped their halos for red lightsabres. If they’ve gone full dark side, reality itself might be next on the chopping block.I need to figure out who’s behind this, and fast. Because dying’s always been my thing – but you can’t reincarnate if there’s nothing left to come back to.