Discover how The Fall of Wolfsbane explores coming of age in a world shaped by war and empire. Follow Ragnar and Maja Wolfsbane as they navigate survival, resistance, and identity in this gritty epic fantasy of conquest and rebellion.
The Fall of Wolfsbane is a story shaped by war, conquest, and survival, but at its heart, it is also a coming-of-age story.
It follows Ragnar and Maja Wolfsbane—a brother and sister forced to grow up in a world shattered by empire.
Their parallel arcs show two very different journeys into adulthood, shaped by loss, resistance, and the search for identity.
Growing Up When Everything Is Taken From You
When I set out to write The Fall of Wolfsbane, I knew I didn’t want a traditional coming-of-age story.
I wanted to show what happens when childhood ends too soon.
For Ragnar and Maja, there is no gentle transition into adulthood.
There are no safe mentors or welcoming communities.
Their world is broken from the start.
Their home is conquered. Their father is executed. Their people are scattered.
They don’t get to choose to grow up. They are forced to.
Ragnar’s Journey: Adaptation and Survival
Ragnar begins the story as the heir to Meerand, raised in a warrior culture built on tradition, honour, and strength.
He believes in clear lines between right and wrong.
But when the Ostreich Empire conquers his home and takes him hostage, his world collapses.
Ragnar’s coming of age is shaped by adaptation.
He learns to survive within the very empire he hates.
He forms bonds with his captors. He learns their language, their fighting styles, and their politics.
Yet he never fully loses his identity as a Wolfsbane.
His growth is painful.
He carries shame for not dying in battle like his father.
But his survival is not weakness.
It becomes a different kind of strength — one built on patience, understanding, and strategic thinking.
Ragnar’s journey shows how coming of age sometimes means letting go of who you were — without forgetting who you are.
Maja’s Journey: Resistance and Rebellion
Maja’s arc runs parallel to Ragnar’s but follows a very different path.
While Ragnar is forced to adapt, Maja is determined to resist.
She is taken to the Empire’s capital and paraded as a project — a symbol of civilisation imposed on a conquered people.
But Maja never accepts her role.
Outwardly, she learns the Empire’s customs. She studies their language and culture. But inwardly, she plans her escape.
Maja’s coming of age is shaped by rebellion.
She becomes skilled at subtle defiance. She learns when to wait, when to listen, and when to strike.
Her journey shows the power of inner resistance — of surviving with your identity intact even when everything around you is designed to erase it.
Two Siblings, Two Paths, One Broken World
What I love most about writing Ragnar and Maja is that neither of them has the luxury of a safe childhood.
They both grow up too fast. They both suffer loss, betrayal, and isolation. But their responses are shaped by their circumstances.
Ragnar finds strength in adaptation.
Maja finds strength in resistance.
Both paths are valid. Both paths require courage.
Their parallel arcs reflect the reality of growing up in a broken world.
Some people learn to live within it.
Others fight to change it.
Sometimes, survival means doing both.
Coming of Age in Epic Fantasy
Epic fantasy has always been a genre where coming of age stories thrive.
But I wanted The Fall of Wolfsbane to approach this theme from a darker, more grounded angle.
I wanted to show how growing up isn’t always about gaining power or reaching a grand destiny.
Sometimes, coming of age is about surviving loss.
Sometimes, it’s about holding on to who you are when everything is taken.
Ragnar and Maja’s journeys are only beginning in The Fall of Wolfsbane.
But their paths are already shaped by the hard lessons of a world torn apart by empire.
Their story is about finding strength in the ruins.
It’s about identity, loyalty, and the cost of survival.
And for both of them, growing up will never mean forgetting where they came from.
iscover The Fall of Wolfsbane, a gritty epic fantasy novel of war, empire, and survival. Follow Ragnar and Maja Wolfsbane as they fight for identity, resist conquest, and uncover the dark magic of ravenglass weapons.
The Fall of Wolfsbane is the first book in my epic fantasy series, Ravenglass Legends.
It is a story about war, empire, and survival. It is a story about identity and resistance in a world shaped by conquest.
I wanted to write a fantasy novel that didn’t shy away from the complexity of empire.
This isn’t a simple tale of good versus evil. It’s a story about people caught in impossible situations.It’s about the cost of survival and the price of power.
The novel follows two main characters.
Ragnar Wolfsbane is a warrior and heir to the northern territory of Meerand.
His world is destroyed when the expansionist Ostreich Empire conquers his homeland.
He watches his father executed. He is taken hostage. He is forced to live among the people who murdered his family and renamed his home.
Ragnar is a character shaped by loss and rage. But he is also a character who learns to adapt.
He forms alliances. He learns the language of the Empire. He survives by understanding his enemies.
Maja Wolfsbane, Ragnar’s younger sister, is taken to the imperial capital and is forced into the role of a court project, paraded as proof that the Empire civilises its captives.But Maja has her own quiet resistance.
She learns their ways while never forgetting her own. She uses their lessons against them. She plots her escape in secret.
I wanted the dual narrative to show two sides of the same war.
One sibling survives within the Empire. The other fights to break free from it.
The world of The Fall of Wolfsbane is shaped by politics, power, and cultural conflict. It’s a world where ancient magic exists but comes at a cost.
Magic in my story is tied to blood, memory, and sacrifice.
Ravenglass is a rare black mineral that can be forged into weapons.
These weapons aren’t just tools—they are bound to the person who creates them.
To forge a ravenglass weapon, blood must be spilled, tears must be shed.
I wanted magic to feel dangerous. I wanted it to feel personal.
At its heart, The Fall of Wolfsbane is about identity.
It’s about what we cling to when everything else is taken. It’s about how we change when we are forced to survive in hostile worlds.
The story is gritty and violent at times, but I never wanted it to feel nihilistic.
There is honour in resistance.
There is courage in survival.
Ragnar and Maja both carry the spirit of their lost home, even as they are shaped by the Empire.
They are both forced to make impossible choices.
Sometimes they win. Sometimes they lose. But they endure.
I wrote The Fall of Wolfsbane for readers who enjoy complex worlds and morally grey characters, for readers who want their fantasy to feel real, grounded, and emotionally honest.
If you enjoy stories about empire, rebellion, and the quiet strength of those who resist, I think you’ll find something here for you.
This is a story about conquest. This is a story about resistance. This is a story about magic that hurts and heals in equal measure.
This is The Fall of Wolfsbane. And this is only the beginning…
Enter the Assassins’ Guild in Forged in Blood, a dark fantasy of loyalty, betrayal, and brutal training. Available now on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and paperback.
The wait is over!
Forged in Blood is now available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and paperback.
Welcome to Welttor, where assassins are trained, loyalty is a liability, and the only way forward is through blood.
Soren never sought out the life of an assassin. He was a sculptor’s apprentice—until the night his father was murdered.
Now, he and his closest friend, Alaric, have joined the secretive Assassins’ Guild, training under Raz, the very man responsible for his father’s death.
Their brutal education will push them to their limits, demanding mastery of combat, stealth, and deception.
But survival in the Guild is not guaranteed.
As their training intensifies, the line between ally and rival begins to blur.
Their final test will determine who deserves a place among the Guild’s ranks—and who will be left behind.
If you enjoy dark fantasy, morally complex characters, and the brutal path from apprentice to assassin, Forged in Blood belongs on your shelf.
🔹 No romance. No mercy. Just a blade between you and the next step forward. 🔹 Perfect for fans of Scott Lynch, Joe Abercrombie, and Brent Weeks. 🔹 Read now on Kindle or Kindle Unlimited.
Political fantasy does more than entertain—it reflects real-world power struggles, corruption, and leadership. Explore how The Ravenglass Throne and other fantasy worlds mirror political dynamics in our own society.
Political fantasy has grown in popularity over the past decade.
Audiences are drawn to its complex characters, intricate plots, and high-stakes power struggles.
Beyond the dragons, magic, and medieval settings lies something deeply familiar.
Fantasy often mirrors the same power dynamics that shape our own world.
When crafting The Ravenglass Throne series, I found myself drawing parallels between fantasy politics and real-world systems of power.
Sometimes, this was intentional.
Other times, it was entirely subconscious.
The Veiled Critique: Fantasy as Political Commentary
Fantasy has long served as a way to examine real-world issues from a safe distance.
By shifting political conflicts to imaginary realms, authors can explore sensitive topics without directly challenging existing power structures.
This tradition dates back to works like Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and continues in modern political fantasy.
In The Ravenglass Throne, the struggle between noble houses after the king’s assassination reflects historical succession crises.
Baron Gerlach’s manipulation of evidence to frame House Darius echoes real-world propaganda tactics.
Political operatives have always used misinformation to discredit their opponents.
By placing these dynamics in a fantasy setting, readers can recognise familiar patterns.
The fantasy backdrop allows for critical examination without the emotional weight of real-world conflicts.
The ravenglass corruption spreading through Ostreich serves as a metaphor for institutional decay.
Just as real institutions can be corroded by self-interest, prejudice, and abuse of power, the kingdom’s magical foundation faces an existential threat.
Many refuse to acknowledge the crisis—until it is nearly too late.
Three Faces of Power: Military, Knowledge, and Diplomacy
Political scientist Joseph Nye distinguished between hard power (military and economic coercion) and soft power (persuasion and influence).
In The Ravenglass Throne, these ideas manifest through the three royal sisters.
Irmin: Hard Power
Irmin embodies military strength and direct action.
She believes in confronting threats head-on.
Her leadership reflects the enduring importance of military force in politics, both in fantasy and reality.
Yet, the series also explores its limitations.
Even the sharpest sword cannot cut through corruption, mistrust, and divided loyalties.
Elana: Soft Power
Elana represents diplomatic influence and strategic alliance-building.
She understands that perception often matters more than reality.
In both fantasy and modern politics, power frequently operates through narrative control and relationship management rather than brute force.
Her visual impairment reminds us that those underestimated by traditional power structures often develop alternative ways to wield influence.
Adelinde: Structural Power
Adelinde reflects knowledge as power.
She embodies what political theorists call structural or institutional power—the ability to shape the systems that others must operate within.
Her research into ravenglass and its corruption represents how specialised knowledge can reveal vulnerabilities and opportunities.
These three approaches to power highlight a crucial truth: real-world leadership is rarely one-dimensional.
The most effective rulers combine multiple forms of influence.
Just as the three sisters must learn to unite their strengths, successful leaders adapt their methods to different challenges.
The Political Economy of Magic
Fantasy often treats magic as a mystical force, detached from economic and political concerns.
In The Ravenglass Throne, I wanted to explore how a magical resource would inevitably become a source of political and economic power.
The control of ravenglass in Ostreich mirrors how access to oil, rare earth minerals, or water shapes political leverage in our world.
Those who control these resources wield immense influence.
Those without access remain vulnerable.
The Guardians’ knowledge of ravenglass mirrors the way technical expertise translates into political authority in modern society.
The corruption spreading through the ravenglass network reflects concerns about environmental degradation and resource depletion.
Just as real-world nations face the consequences of overusing finite resources, Ostreich’s leaders must confront the dangers of assuming their magical foundation is limitless.
Identity Politics in Fantasy Realms
Modern political discussions often revolve around identity—race, gender, class, and privilege.
Fantasy frequently reflects these dynamics while offering a space to reimagine them.
In The Ravenglass Throne, the question of whether a woman can inherit the throne mirrors real-world debates on gender and leadership.
Elana’s visual impairment challenges assumptions about disability—both in fantasy and modern society.
The different perspectives of wyverns and humans highlight how political systems often fail to account for all affected groups.
These elements are not decorative additions to make the world feel realistic.
They are central to the story’s exploration of power, legitimacy, and who gets a voice in political decisions.
Fantasy settings allow readers to reconsider their assumptions about leadership, representation, and privilege in an indirect but meaningful way.
The Personal as Political
Fantasy and real-world politics share one fundamental truth.
Power structures are ultimately shaped by personal relationships, loyalties, and betrayals.
Behind every major political shift—whether in Ostreich or our own world—lie individuals with complex motivations, ambitions, and fears.
The sisters’ strained relationship after their father’s death reflects how personal grief shapes political decision-making.
Baron Gerlach’s ambition and Lord Darius’s concern for appearances mirror the self-interest that drives political figures throughout history.
Even the bonds between wyverns and riders serve as a metaphor for how relationships shape our understanding of the world.
By exploring these interpersonal dimensions of power, fantasy reminds us that political systems are not just abstract institutions.
They are animated by real people, making choices based on values, survival, and strategy.
This recognition does not simplify politics.
It complicates it—because it demands an acknowledgment of the full humanity of everyone involved.
Why Political Fantasy Matters
In a time of increasing political polarisation, fantasy offers a shared space where readers can explore complex political questions.
It allows discussions of power without triggering the defensive reactions that often arise in real-world debates.
When we recognise fictional power struggles as reflections of real-world dynamics, we gain fresh perspectives on issues that might otherwise seem insurmountable.
Like all political fantasy, The Ravenglass Throne offers more than escapism.
It serves as a laboratory for examining power—how it works, how it corrupts, and how it might be wielded more justly.
By journeying through Ostreich’s political crisis alongside the three royal sisters, readers are invited to reflect on their own relationship with power.
How do we seek it?
How do we use it?
How do we react when others wield it?
The best political fantasies do not simply recreate real-world power structures with added magic and monsters.
They help us imagine alternatives—new ways to govern, resolve conflicts, and distribute influence.
At a time when many real-world political systems face unprecedented challenges, this imaginative function of fantasy may be its greatest strength.
The Ravenglass Throne continues with monthly novella releases. Join Irmin, Elana, and Adelinde as they navigate the treacherous politics of a kingdom on the brink of collapse.
Explore the evolution of wyverns in fantasy, from medieval heraldry to psychic bonds. Discover how The Ravenglass Throne reinvents wyvern lore with unique biology, culture, and rider connections.
When I began creating the world of The Ravenglass Throne, I wanted flying mounts that weren’t simply dragons with a different name.
I wanted creatures with their own distinct biology, psychology, and cultural significance.
Wyverns, often overshadowed by their more famous draconic cousins, provided the perfect foundation to build upon.
The Wyvern in Historical Lore
Unlike the traditional Western dragon, which has four legs and wings, the wyvern has always been depicted with only two legs.
Throughout medieval European heraldry, wyverns symbolised strength, endurance, and protection.
The word “wyvern” comes from the Middle English wyvere or wiver, which derives from the Old North French wivre, ultimately linked to the Latin vipera, meaning viper or serpent.
Heraldic wyverns were often shown with bat-like wings, a reptilian body, and a barbed tail.
They were considered lesser dragons, frequently serving as sentinels or guardians rather than the monstrous adversaries of legend.
While dragons hoarded gold and fought knights, wyverns were protectors, marking borders and warning of danger.
This guardian role particularly appealed to me when developing the wyverns of the Ravenglass Universe.
Rather than existing as monsters to be slain, these creatures would form the backbone of the Kingdom’s defence—both literally and figuratively.
Wyverns vs. Dragons: Defining the Differences
In developing the wyverns of The Ravenglass Throne, I wanted to ensure they were distinct from traditional dragons.
Key Differences:
Physical Structure – True to heraldic tradition, wyverns in my world have only two hind legs rather than four. Their bipedal stance affects everything from how they land to how riders mount them.
No Fire-Breathing – Unlike most dragons, Ostreich’s wyverns do not breathe fire. This forces both the creatures and their riders to rely on alternative strengths and strategies.
Size and Scale – While impressive, wyverns are significantly smaller than the mythical dragons of legend. This makes them more practical as mounts but less overwhelming as apex predators.
Intelligence – The wyverns of The Ravenglass Throne possess a different kind of intelligence. Rather than the cunning, speech-capable minds often attributed to dragons, wyverns display sharp intuition, heightened spatial awareness, and an acute sensitivity to emotions.
These differences help establish wyverns as a unique category of magical creature rather than just “dragons-lite.”
The Psychic Bond: A Modern Fantasy Innovation
One of the biggest departures from traditional wyvern lore in The Ravenglass Throne is the psychic bond between rider and mount.
This element draws inspiration from contemporary fantasy, such as Anne McCaffrey’s Pern series and Robin Hobb‘s Realm of the Elderlings, rather than medieval mythology, where deep human-animal connections were rarely explored.
In creating the ravenglass network that strengthens these bonds, I wanted to explore several key themes:
The vulnerability that comes with deep connection.
The balance between individual identity and shared consciousness.
The potential for corruption in even the most sacred relationships.
This psychic link transforms wyverns from mere mounts into true partners, each with their own perspectives, desires, and motivations.
It also creates a unique social structure where relationships extend beyond simple human hierarchies.
Wyvern Culture in Ostreich
I wanted the wyverns of The Ravenglass Throne to have their own culture, separate from human society.
They maintain distinct hierarchies, traditions, and a unique perspective on history—one that does not always align with human interests.
Witz, the royal wyvern, exemplifies this dual existence.
Though deeply connected to the royal family, he retains his own agenda and understanding of the Kingdom’s needs.
Sometimes, this means contradicting or challenging his human counterparts.
This cultural complexity prevents the wyverns from becoming mere exotic accessories to human drama.
They have stakes in Ostreich’s future, which sometimes align with humanity’s goals—and sometimes do not.
Wyvern Biology and the Magic of Ravenglass
In developing wyvern biology, I wanted a system that felt both magical and grounded in natural laws.
The connection between ravenglass and wyvern physiology provides this foundation.
Instead of fire-breathing, Ostreich’s wyverns have evolved alongside ravenglass deposits, developing biological systems that resonate with this rare substance.
This resonance allows for the psychic bonding that defines rider-mount relationships and forms the backbone of the Kingdom’s power structure.
It also raises high stakes when the ravenglass network becomes corrupted.
The physical symptoms of this corruption—dulled scales, erratic behaviour, weakened flight capacity—manifest the unseen damage to the magical system that sustains them.
Wyverns as Metaphor
Beyond their role in the world’s mechanics, wyverns in The Ravenglass Throne serve as metaphors for several core themes in the series.
1. Trust and Vulnerability
The rider-wyvern bond represents both the power and the risk of making oneself vulnerable to another.
2. Institutional Corruption
The ravenglass network’s degradation mirrors the slow corruption of once-trusted institutions, often unnoticed until it reaches a crisis point.
3. Balance of Power
The relationship between humans and wyverns reflects larger questions of power dynamics, interdependence, and the tension between control and partnership.
By developing wyverns as complex beings rather than traditional monsters or simple steeds, I’ve aimed to create creatures that feel both familiar to fantasy readers and fresh enough to support new storytelling possibilities.
Why Wyverns?
Wyverns provided the perfect balance for The Ravenglass Throne—creatures with enough mythological resonance to feel at home in fantasy, but with enough flexibility to reinvent and deepen their role.
Their bipedal form, inability to breathe fire, and unique psychology all serve both worldbuilding and thematic purposes.
They aren’t just dragons with fewer limbs—they are their own distinct species with their own place in Ostreich’s complex ecosystem of power.
As the series continues, the nature and significance of these creatures will only grow, as will our understanding of the ravenglass network that binds them to their human partners—for better or worse.
Discover the world of wyverns and their riders in The Ravenglass Throne series, with new novellas releasing monthly on all major ebook platforms.
Discover how to create immersive, believable traditions in your fantasy world. Learn how rituals, festivals, and customs shape culture, deepen worldbuilding, and enhance storytelling.
When I began crafting the Kingdom of Ostreich for The Ravenglass Throne series, I knew the traditions would need to feel as real as the characters who inhabited it.
After all, cultures aren’t just backdrops—they’re living frameworks that shape how people think, act, and perceive their world.
The most compelling fantasy worlds don’t just have magic systems and political structures; they have birthdays and funerals, harvest festivals and coming-of-age ceremonies.
They have traditions that characters either embrace or rebel against.
The Power of Traditions in Fantasy Worldbuilding
Every culture, whether real or imagined, is built upon invisible scaffolding.
This scaffolding consists of shared beliefs, historical events, environmental pressures, and the accumulated wisdom (or folly) of generations.
In Ostreich, the relationship between riders and wyverns shapes everything from military hierarchy to social status.
The ravenglass network that strengthens these bonds isn’t just a magical system—it’s the foundation of an entire way of life.
When creating your own fantasy cultures, ask yourself what forces have shaped your world’s development.
Is it the presence of magic?
Environmental extremes?
Contact with non-human species?
These foundational elements should ripple through every aspect of your world’s traditions.
Rituals That Reveal Character
The most effective cultural traditions in fantasy aren’t just colourful details—they’re opportunities to reveal character through adherence or resistance.
Consider how the white mourning robes in Ostreich reflect the Kingdom’s beliefs about death and the afterlife.
This tradition doesn’t just add visual interest; it creates moments where characters must confront their grief while maintaining public composure.
When developing traditions for your world, think about the emotional burden they place on your characters.
Does your warrior culture expect stoicism in the face of loss?
Does your merchant society celebrate wealth with elaborate gift-giving rituals that strain poorer families?
The tension between cultural expectations and personal feelings creates fertile ground for character development.
The Lifecycle of Traditions
Traditions aren’t static—they evolve, fade, and sometimes experience revival.
In the Ravenglass universe, the ancient warnings about corrupted ravenglass were deliberately obscured, creating a dangerous gap in cultural knowledge.
This erasure forms part of the central mystery and highlights how traditions can be manipulated for political ends.
When building your fantasy cultures, consider the lifecycle of their traditions.
Which customs are new, perhaps responding to recent events?
Which are ancient but changing in meaning?
Which have been lost or suppressed, and by whom?
The history of a tradition often proves as interesting as the tradition itself.
Embedding Economic Realities
Believable fantasy cultures reflect economic realities in their traditions.
In Ostreich, the military’s reliance on wyvern riders creates an elite class with specific privileges and responsibilities.
This isn’t just worldbuilding window dressing—it’s a power structure that drives the plot.
Ask yourself what your fantasy world produces, consumes, and values.
How do these economic factors manifest in cultural traditions?
Are certain materials considered sacred because they’re rare?
Do seasonal work patterns create festivals around planting or harvest?
Economic foundations make fantasy cultures feel grounded rather than arbitrary.
Tradition vs Innovation: The Eternal Tension
Every society experiences tension between tradition and innovation, between those who preserve the old ways and those who push for change.
This conflict creates natural fault lines for storytelling.
In The Ravenglass Throne, this tension emerges in the debate over succession—should the Kingdom follow tradition and choose a male heir, or adapt to circumstances and accept female leadership?
This question divides characters along ideological lines that transcend simple “good versus evil” dynamics.
When crafting your fantasy cultures, build in these points of internal tension.
What traditions are being questioned by younger generations?
Which customs have become hollow performances rather than meaningful practices?
Where do pragmatists and traditionalists clash?
These conflicts provide rich territory for nuanced characters who can’t be easily categorised as heroes or villains.
The Language of Cultural Identity
The words we use shape how we think, and this principle applies doubly in fantasy worldbuilding.
Unique terminology doesn’t just add exotic flavour—it reflects how your fantasy culture categorises and understands the world.
In Ostreich, the specific terminology around ravenglass—its properties, its uses, its corruption—reveals a society that has built its identity around this mysterious substance.
When developing your fantasy cultures, consider creating terminology that reflects their values and preoccupations.
What concepts are so important they have multiple words to express subtle distinctions?
What metaphors dominate their language?
These linguistic details can convey cultural values more effectively than pages of exposition.
The Alchemy of the Familiar and Strange
The most resonant fantasy cultures blend the familiar and the strange in proportions that feel both accessible and wondrous.
Too familiar, and your world feels derivative.
Too strange, and readers struggle to connect emotionally.
In The Ravenglass Throne, familiar elements like sibling rivalry and court politics mix with the unique magic of wyvern bonds and ravenglass corruption.
This creates a world that readers can understand emotionally while still experiencing the thrill of discovery.
As you craft your own fantasy cultures, look for this balance—traditions that echo our world’s diverse histories while transforming them into something new.
The strongest fantasy traditions aren’t invented from nothing; they’re alchemical combinations of human experiences reimagined through the lens of the impossible.
And that’s where the magic really happens.
The Ravenglass Throne continues with monthly novella instalments. Discover the political intrigue, magical corruption, and unbreakable bonds of sisterhood that readers are calling “utterly captivating” and “a fresh voice in fantasy.”
Discover how the bond between wyverns, dragons, and their riders has evolved in fantasy literature. From dominance to partnership, explore the psychology, politics, and future of rider fantasy in The Ravenglass Throne series and beyond.
There’s something primal about the fantasy of bonding with a magnificent winged beast.
Perhaps it’s the ancient longing to experience flight, to see the world from above.
Or perhaps it’s the yearning for a companion who understands us completely, whose loyalty transcends the limitations of human relationships.
Whatever the root of this fascination, the rider-mount relationship has evolved dramatically throughout fantasy literature, reflecting our changing values and understanding of partnership.
From Beasts of Burden to Bonded Companions
In early fantasy literature, dragons and their kin were often little more than magical horses—mounts to be tamed, controlled, and utilised.
They served as living vehicles, impressive but ultimately subservient to human will and ambition.
Think of the dragons in McCaffrey‘s early Pern novels, impressive but essentially domesticated, or the flying beasts in pulp fantasy that existed primarily to make their riders seem more impressive.
These relationships reflected humanity’s historical view of animals as resources rather than beings with their own agency.
But just as our understanding of animal cognition and emotional complexity has evolved, so too has the portrayal of these magnificent creatures in fantasy.
In more sophisticated modern interpretations, including my Ravenglass Throne series, wyverns and dragons possess distinct personalities, independent thoughts, and genuine emotional lives.
The bond between rider and mount has transformed from ownership to partnership, from dominance to mutual respect.
The Psychology of the Bond
What makes the rider-mount bond so compelling is its unique blend of the physical and metaphysical.
In the most resonant rider fantasies, the connection transcends mere telepathy or practical partnership.
It becomes something deeper—a sharing of souls, a blending of identities that remains distinct yet unified.
In The Ravenglass Throne, I’ve explored this through the ravenglass network that amplifies the natural connection between wyverns and their riders.
The bond becomes not just a personal relationship but part of a larger tapestry connecting the entire Kingdom.
This evolution reflects our growing understanding of interconnectedness in the real world, the recognition that no relationship exists in isolation.
Each pairing affects the larger community, creating ripples that extend far beyond the individuals involved.
The Political Implications of Bonded Creatures
As rider fantasy has matured, authors have increasingly engaged with the political implications of these powerful bonds.
Who gets to be a rider?
What privileges does this status confer?
How does having an elite group with access to flying, fire-breathing companions affect power structures?
The most thoughtful modern rider fantasies recognise that such extraordinary capabilities would inevitably shape societies in profound ways.
In Ostreich, the military advantage of wyvern riders has created specific hierarchies and tensions, while the threat of corrupted bonds threatens the Kingdom’s very foundation.
This political dimension adds complexity to what might otherwise be simply a fascinating magical system.
It forces characters—and readers—to consider questions of responsibility, privilege, and the potential for abuse of power.
The Corruption of Sacred Bonds
One of the most interesting developments in modern rider fantasy is the exploration of what happens when these sacred bonds become corrupted or broken.
In earlier works, the bond was often presented as unbreakable, a perfect union that could withstand any challenge.
But contemporary fantasy recognises that all relationships, even magical ones, can face threats both external and internal.
The corruption spreading through the ravenglass network in my series represents the vulnerability of even the strongest connections.
It raises questions about trust, about the fragility of systems we take for granted, about the constant maintenance that any relationship requires.
This exploration of imperfect bonds reflects our modern understanding of relationship complexity and the work required to maintain healthy connections.
From Individual to Communal Identity
Perhaps the most significant evolution in rider fantasy has been the shift from focusing solely on the individual pair to examining how these bonds form communities and cultures.
Earlier works often centred on the exceptional rider-mount pair, set apart from society by their unique connection.
More nuanced modern approaches, including The Ravenglass Throne, consider how multiple bonded pairs create networks of relationships, traditions, and shared experiences.
The wyverns in Ostreich don’t exist in isolation—they form their own social structures that parallel and intersect with human hierarchies.
This complexity better reflects our understanding of real-world animal societies and creates richer, more believable fantasy worlds.
The Future of Rider Fantasy
As we look to the future of this subgenre, several exciting developments seem likely to continue.
We’ll likely see more exploration of non-Western cultural influences on rider relationships, moving beyond the predominantly European medieval framework.
Questions of environmental impact and responsibility will become increasingly central, reflecting our real-world concerns about humanity’s relationship with nature.
The psychological aspects of the bond may be explored with even greater sophistication, perhaps incorporating our evolving understanding of neuroscience and consciousness.
And most importantly, the notion of consent and choice within these bonds will continue to be examined, reflecting our changing values around autonomy and partnership.
The Ravenglass Throne series attempts to push in these directions, while acknowledging its debt to the rich tradition of rider fantasy that came before.
Beyond Simple Wish Fulfilment
The most compelling rider fantasies have always been about more than simply fulfilling the wish to fly on dragonback.
They explore what it means to truly know another being, to communicate beyond words, to share a connection that transforms both parties.
They ask questions about power, responsibility, and the nature of trust.
They examine how extraordinary abilities might shape societies and individuals.
In my own work, I’ve tried to honour this tradition while pushing into new territory.
The wyverns of Ostreich aren’t just magical steeds—they’re fully realised characters with their own perspectives, desires, and fears.
Their bonds with human riders create both strength and vulnerability, both privilege and responsibility.
Because the most enduring fantasy doesn’t just help us escape reality—it helps us understand it more deeply.
And what could teach us more about connection, trust, and partnership than the ancient, evolving dream of soaring through the skies on the back of a magnificent winged companion?
The Ravenglass Throne series continues with monthly novella instalments, exploring the complex bonds between wyverns and their riders in a kingdom teetering on the edge of collapse. Available on all major ebook platforms.
The Ravenglass Throne explores the tension between tradition and change, shaping its kingdom, politics, and magic. The ravenglass network symbolises the struggle between preserving the past and embracing the future, making this a central conflict in the story.
The tension between tradition and change emerges as one of the most compelling themes in The Ravenglass Throne.
This conflict plays out at every level, from personal relationships to kingdom-wide struggles.
It is not just a backdrop to the story but a driving force behind character development and plot progression.
Tradition as the Foundation of Power
The kingdom of Ostreich is built on deeply entrenched traditions.
The ravenglass network, the wyvern bonds, and the established political hierarchies form the foundation of its power.
These are not merely customs but the structures that hold the kingdom together.
The ravenglass core itself stands as a physical symbol of tradition, maintaining the bonds that have shaped Ostreich for generations.
The Challenge to Tradition
This long-standing order faces threats from multiple directions.
Baron Gerlach’s conspiracy represents a radical rejection of tradition.
He views the wyvern bonds not as connections but as chains, arguing that traditional power structures enforce stagnation rather than stability.
His rebellion raises a crucial question: does tradition protect the kingdom, or does it hinder its evolution?
The Three Sisters: Different Approaches to Change
The royal sisters embody different perspectives on this conflict.
Irmin, as a military commander, initially adheres rigidly to hierarchy and established methods.
Elana, in her diplomatic role, balances tradition and innovation as she navigates shifting alliances.
Adelinde, through her research, pushes the boundaries of conventional knowledge.
Their journey from division to unity suggests that the kingdom’s survival depends not on choosing between tradition and change, but on learning how to embrace both.
The Ravenglass Network as a Metaphor for Change
The ravenglass network itself reflects this struggle.
Its corruption represents both a literal and symbolic attack on tradition.
Yet overcoming this corruption requires a combination of ancient wisdom and new approaches.
The purification ritual succeeds precisely because it blends traditional geometric patterns with innovative applications of magic.
The Dual Nature of Tradition: Unity and Division
Tradition has the power to both unite and divide.
The royal bloodline’s historical role in maintaining the ravenglass network is both a responsibility and a vulnerability.
The noble houses’ rivalries, rooted in longstanding traditions, threaten the kingdom’s stability.
Yet these same traditions foster loyalty and provide a framework for order.
The story avoids simplistic narratives of “tradition bad, change good,” instead offering a more nuanced perspective.
Military Adaptation: Blending Old and New
The kingdom’s military structure reflects this same tension.
Irmin’s squadron relies on strict discipline, but tactical innovation becomes essential to counter new threats.
The corruption of wyvern bonds forces riders to reassess long-held assumptions about their relationships with their mounts.
Survival depends not on rejecting tradition, but on refining it to meet evolving challenges.
Political Structures: Stability vs. Stagnation
The political landscape of Ostreich further illustrates the interplay between tradition and change.
House Darius’s unwavering loyalty, rooted in tradition, is both a strength and a potential weakness.
The council’s traditional procedures sometimes slow decision-making in times of crisis.
Yet these same structures provide much-needed stability when chaos threatens to take hold.
The story suggests that neither blind adherence to tradition nor wholesale rejection of it is the answer.
The Evolution of Tradition
Perhaps most intriguingly, the story examines how tradition itself can change over time.
The ravenglass network, though presented as an ancient system, has evolved through generations.
The sisters’ discovery of lost knowledge suggests that some traditions may be relatively recent adaptations rather than unchanging laws.
This raises an important question: how much of what is considered tradition is actually just the latest iteration of change?
A Resolution That Embraces Both Sides
The resolution of the story does not depict a simple triumph of change over tradition.
Instead, it suggests that true strength comes from understanding which traditions are worth preserving while remaining open to necessary evolution.
The sisters succeed not by dismantling the kingdom’s traditional structures, but by learning how to enhance and adapt them.
A Thought-Provoking Exploration of Change
This nuanced treatment of tradition and change elevates The Ravenglass Throne beyond standard fantasy tropes.
It reflects the reality that all societies—magical or otherwise—must constantly negotiate between preserving valuable traditions and adapting to new circumstances.
By weaving this theme into multiple aspects of the story—magical, military, political, and personal—it adds depth to both worldbuilding and character development.
Why This Conflict Resonates with Readers
For readers, this central conflict creates compelling dramatic tension while raising thought-provoking questions about how societies handle change.
It suggests that the strongest systems are those that preserve core traditions while remaining flexible enough to evolve.
This lesson extends beyond the fantasy genre, making The Ravenglass Throne both entertaining and relevant.
Tradition and Change: A Lesson in Balance
The story ultimately argues that the real question is not whether to choose tradition or change.
Instead, it asks how to determine which traditions truly matter and how they can evolve without being lost.
This balanced approach to a classic theme ensures that The Ravenglass Throne is not only a gripping fantasy story but also a meaningful exploration of the forces that shape societies.
Learn how to write about colonialism in fantasy responsibly. Explore ways to avoid harmful tropes, create complex societies, and tackle power dynamics to craft stories that challenge, rather than reinforce, colonial narratives.
As fantasy writers tackle themes of colonialism and empire, we face a significant challenge.
How do we explore these themes authentically without falling into damaging stereotypes or accidentally glamorising colonialism?
While writing The Knight and the Rebel, I grappled with these questions constantly.
Here, I’d like to share some insights from that process.
Tropes to Avoid
First, let’s acknowledge the tropes we need to steer clear of:
The “noble savage” who supposedly needs civilisation.
The “white saviour” liberating the oppressed.
Colonised peoples portrayed as one-dimensional victims.
The assumption that technological or magical advancement equals moral superiority.
The notion that colonisation brings necessary “progress.”
Showing Complex Societies
Instead of depicting Wiete as “primitive,” I portrayed it as a sophisticated society.
It has its own political structures, traditions, and values.
The Empire doesn’t bring civilisation—it imposes a different civilisation designed to serve its own interests.
When Ragnar observes Imperial “improvements” like the Kusten Road, he recognises how these developments primarily benefit Imperial control rather than local people.
Neither the Empire nor the resistance is a monolithic entity.
The Empire includes true believers, pragmatists, and secret doubters.
The resistance features various factions with differing methods and goals.
This complexity avoids simplistic “good vs evil” narratives that can reinforce colonial thinking.
Examining Power Structures
Through Ragnar’s position as Knight Protector, we see how colonial powers co-opt local elites to maintain control.
Through Maja’s chapters, we witness how resistance movements can become corrupted by violence.
These perspectives show how colonialism distorts and damages both coloniser and colonised.
Ragnar’s chapters reveal the Empire’s machinery of control.
Maja’s perspective ensures the human cost of colonisation remains central.
Her story isn’t just about resistance—it’s about preserving culture and identity in the face of systematic erasure.
Conscious Language Choices
I paid close attention to the language used to describe different cultures.
The Empire doesn’t bring “civilisation”—it enforces its own cultural practices through violence.
Words like “savage,” “primitive,” or “barbaric” appear only in the dialogue of Imperial characters.
This highlights their prejudices rather than reinforcing harmful stereotypes.
Magic as a Metaphor
The magic system in The Knight and the Rebel centres around mental influence and control.
This serves as a metaphor for how colonial powers shape the thoughts and beliefs of both the conquered and their own people.
The magic isn’t about superiority—it’s about power and its abuse.
Avoiding Easy Answers
I tried to avoid offering simplistic solutions to colonial oppression.
Neither total assimilation nor violent resistance is presented as the “right” choice.
Characters navigate complex moral territories where every option carries a cost.
Authors Who Tackle Colonial Themes Well
Some authors handle these themes with remarkable depth and sensitivity:
N.K. Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy examines systemic oppression through a fantasy lens.
Samantha Shannon’s The Priory of the Orange Tree explores religious and cultural imperialism.
R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War series confronts the trauma of colonialism.
S.A. Chakraborty’s Daevabad Trilogy depicts intricate power dynamics between diverse groups.
Questions to Consider While Writing
When writing, I asked myself these key questions:
Does this scene perpetuate harmful stereotypes?
Whose perspective am I centring, and why?
Am I showing the full humanity of all characters?
Am I being honest about the violence of colonialism?
Am I inadvertently justifying colonial actions?
Writing With Responsibility
It’s crucial to remember that writing about colonialism in fantasy isn’t just about creating engaging conflict.
It’s an opportunity to examine power structures that continue to shape our world.
As writers, I feel we have a responsibility to handle these themes with care and awareness.
None of us will get it perfectly right.
But by staying conscious of these issues and constantly questioning our assumptions, we can create stories that challenge rather than reinforce colonial narratives.
Join the Conversation
What are your thoughts on handling colonial themes in fantasy?
Which works do you think explore these themes particularly well?
Discover the hidden historical influences behind The Ravenglass Throne. From Byzantine court politics to the War of the Roses and Chinese bureaucracy, explore how real-world history shaped the Ostreich Kingdom’s power struggles, corruption, and intrigue.
When crafting the world of The Ravenglass Throne, I did not simply pull ideas from thin air.
Like many fantasy authors, I have drawn deeply from history, bringing together elements from various civilisations and eras to create something that feels both fresh and familiar.
Today, I’d like to take you behind the scenes to examine some of the historical influences that helped shape the Ostreich Kingdom and the struggles of our three royal sisters.
The Byzantine Empire and Court Politics
Those who have followed Elana’s chapters closely might recognise echoes of Byzantine court intrigue in the political manoeuvring of Ostreich’s nobles.
The Byzantine Empire, with its complex hierarchies, ceremonial protocols, and intricate politics, provided rich inspiration for the Ravenglass court.
The role of the Imperial wyvern, Witz, in particular, draws from the position of Byzantine eunuchs, who often wielded immense behind-the-scenes influence.
These court officials were not eligible for the throne themselves but frequently controlled who sat upon it.
Similarly, Witz cannot rule directly but plays a crucial role in determining succession.
I was particularly influenced by the reign of Empress Irene (752–803 CE), who ruled as regent for her son before eventually seizing power in her own right.
She was the first woman to rule the Byzantine Empire independently.
The challenges she faced as a female ruler in a patriarchal society informed my approach to the sisters’ struggles for legitimacy in a kingdom that has never been ruled by a woman.
The War of the Roses and Familial Division
The conflict between the houses of York and Lancaster during the Wars of the Roses provided a blueprint for how familial bonds can fracture under the weight of political ambition.
While our three sisters are not fighting each other directly, the divisions between them and the way noble houses attempt to exploit these divisions are heavily influenced by this period of English history.
Baron Gerlach’s machinations, in particular, echo the role of kingmakers such as Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, who shifted allegiances and manipulated succession to serve his own interests.
The way House Darius is framed for the King’s assassination similarly reflects the propaganda wars waged between noble houses during this turbulent period.
What fascinates me about the Wars of the Roses is not just the battles but how perception often mattered more than reality.
A noble house’s reputation could be destroyed through rumour and insinuation—a theme that plays out in how the noble houses of Ostreich manoeuvre for position in the wake of the King’s death.
Ancient Chinese Bureaucracy and Institutional Power
The structure of the Guardians and their relationship with ravenglass draws inspiration from imperial Chinese bureaucracy, particularly the examination system and the role of scholar-officials.
Just as Chinese bureaucrats gained power through mastery of Confucian texts and complex administrative systems, the Guardians derive their authority from specialised knowledge of ravenglass and its properties.
The corruption that spreads through the ravenglass network parallels historical periods when institutional corruption undermined Chinese imperial governance.
During the late Ming dynasty, for instance, the examination system that had once ensured meritocratic government became increasingly compromised by bribery and factional interests.
Adelinde’s research into ancient texts and her discovery of deliberately obscured knowledge reflects the historical practice of “literary inquisition” in imperial China, where texts deemed threatening to the established order were censored or destroyed.
The revelation that someone deliberately damaged crucial passages about ravenglass corruption echoes these historical attempts to control information.
In creating the Guardians, I wanted to examine how institutions meant to protect can sometimes become the greatest threat when their original purpose is corrupted or forgotten.
History is full of examples of this pattern, and I found the evolution of Chinese bureaucracy over centuries particularly instructive in imagining how the Guardians might have drifted from their founding principles.
The Real-World Inspirations Behind Fantasy
At its best, fantasy does not merely provide escapism—it offers a lens through which we can examine our own world and history from new perspectives.
By drawing from these historical influences, I have tried to create a world that, despite its wyverns and magical ravenglass, reflects recognisable patterns of power, corruption, and resistance.
The struggles of Irmin, Elana, and Adelinde may take place in a fictional realm, but they grapple with challenges that have faced real people throughout history.
How to maintain unity in the face of division.
How to determine who can be trusted.
How to reform systems that have become corrupted from within.
As the series continues to unfold, these historical influences will deepen and evolve.
After all, history is not just something that happened in the past—it is a living process that continues to shape how we understand power, politics, and the bonds that both unite and divide us.
I would love to hear which historical periods or civilisations come to mind when you read The Ravenglass Throne.
Sometimes, readers spot influences I was not even consciously aware of incorporating!
