Embark on a journey through fantasy literature’s memorable bromances, from Gentleman Bastards to the unforgettable duo in Stormlight Archive.
As avid readers of fantasy literature will attest, there’s little in this genre that captures our hearts and imaginations quite like a good bromance.
These intimate friendships, often between two (occasionally more) men, present an opportunity for deep character development, exhilarating adventures, and emotional resonance that many of us can relate to.
But fear not, this isn’t a dissertation on the sociological aspects of male bonding in fiction.
Think of it as a merry skip through the flowering fields of fantasy bromances, occasionally stopping to point and exclaim, “Look at those guys, aren’t they just great together!”
If ever there was a tale that warmed the cockles of your heart with its hearty bromance, it’s Scott Lynch’s series.
Locke Lamora and Jean Tannen have the kind of bond that makes you want to cry into your ale.
They’re thieves, con-artists, and brothers in all but blood.
They banter, they bicker, and they save each other’s backsides with alarming regularity.
That’s the thing about Locke and Jean—it’s not just about fighting the baddies together, it’s about saving each other from their own worst habits.
Hadrian and Royce
In a similar vein, we have the unforgettable duo of Hadrian and Royce from Michael J. Sullivan’s Riyria Revelations.
What starts as a business partnership between a kind-hearted warrior and a cynical thief eventually blossoms into an unshakable friendship that’s full of witty banter and nail-biting escapades.
It’s quite like if you took a shilling for every time they save each other, you’d be as rich as the king in no time.
The Greatcoats themselves—Falcio, Kest, and Brasti—have a friendship that can only be described as…well, coat of arms deep.
They squabble like schoolboys one moment and are ready to take a sword for each other the next.
Not to mention their synchronised cloak-swirling—that’s some real friend goals there.
Clay and Gabriel
But hold your horses…or should I say wyverns?
Nicholas Eames’ ‘Kings of the Wyld’ series boasts Clay Cooper and Gabriel.
These two old warriors come out of retirement for one last hurrah, enduring all manner of beasts and bedlam.
Their banter will have you chuckling like a goblin on giggleweed, but at the same time, their loyalty will make you sob like a heartbroken dragon.
An emotional rollercoaster, isn’t it?
Jon and Samwell
Next stop is at the frosty wall of Westeros.
If you listen closely, you might just hear the sound of Jon Snow and Samwell Tarley’s friendship, a heartwarming chord that rings true even amidst the incessant chill.
In George R.R. Martin’s ‘A Song of Ice and Fire,’ Jon and Sam start as green boys at the Night’s Watch but soon develop an enduring friendship that weathers both White Walkers and the politics of the realm.
Jon, the brooding bastard, and Sam, the self-deprecating scholar, are as different as ice and fire, but they stick together like two wights in a snowstorm.
Kaladin and Adolin
Our next bromance takes us to the ‘Stormlight Archive’ by Brandon Sanderson, where we meet the mighty Kaladin and the charismatic Adolin Kholin.
Although their friendship starts on rocky grounds (and who can blame them—class tensions, haunted pasts, and all that), they grow to rely on each other.
Adolin might be the charming prince, and Kaladin a brooding ex-slave, but their friendship shines brighter than a Shardblade in battle.
Plus, nothing says ‘bromance’ quite like fighting an ancient, desolate evil together, does it?
Harry and Ron
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley from J.K. Rowling’s ‘Harry Potter’ series undoubtedly deserve a mention.
Despite the magic and mayhem of Hogwarts, these two chaps stick together through thick and thin (and troll encounters).
0They’re the epitome of childhood friends turned lifelong companions.
It’s a true bromance when your mate is willing to face down You-Know-Who and play life-threatening chess for you.
Kvothe and Simmon
Turning the pages to Patrick Rothfuss’s ‘The Kingkiller Chronicle,’ we find the bond between Kvothe and Simmon.
Kvothe might be the protagonist, the dramatic hero with a tragic past, but it’s Simmon’s steady loyalty that lights up their friendship.
Sim is there through Kvothe’s ups, downs, and frequent tavern brawls.
Sure, Simmon might not be a legendary hero or a magical prodigy, but he’s a bloody good made, and isn’t that what counts?
Kennit and Wintrow
Next, we whisk ourselves to the high seas of Robin Hobb’s ‘Liveship Traders.’
Here, we witness the understated, deeply emotional bond between Captain Kennit and his shipmate Wintrow Vestrit.
Their relationship may start with coercion, but it evolves into an unexpected friendship full of emotional depth.
It’s a rare bromance, crafted masterfully by Hobb, and one that’s hard to forget.
Frodo and Sam
And of course, how can any discussion about bromances in fantasy literature be complete without mentioning Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins from ‘The Lord of the Rings?’
Their enduring, pure, and simple friendship as they journey through Middle Earth is stuff of legends. Sam carrying Frodo up Mount Doom is nothing short of bromance in its most epic form.
“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you.”
If you’re not a tad teary after that, well, I’m afraid you might just be a stone troll.
Honourable mention: FitzChivalry and Nighteyes
Our exploration of bromances in fantasy literature would be woefully incomplete without delving into the peculiar, profound relationship that transcends the barriers of species: FitzChivalry Farseer and Nighteyes from Robin Hobb’s ‘Farseer Trilogy.’
You see, the ‘bromance’ that Fitz, the royal bastard, shares with Nighteyes, his wolf companion, is quite unlike any other we’ve discussed so far.
It’s not just friendship, it’s a ‘soulship’ if you will, a bond of minds and spirits.
Through the Wit (a form of magic that allows telepathic and empathic bonds with animals), these two are bound together in ways that redefine the traditional concepts of friendship.
Nighteyes isn’t just Fitz’s pet or even his sidekick—he’s his confidant, his moral compass, and quite frankly, the sensible one in the pair (and yes, we’re talking about a wolf here).
When you have a wolf advising you on your love life, you know you’ve got something unique.
Their banter (if you can call telepathic wolf-human conversations that) is full of playful humour and wisdom.
It’s touching how Nighteyes, the wolf, often ends up being the one teaching Fitz about loyalty, courage, and living in the moment.
One might even say he’s the real hero of the story—Fitz certainly wouldn’t be the same without him.
But it’s not all sunshine and howls—their bond carries a profound sense of melancholy too.
As readers, we’re reminded of the fleeting nature of Nighteyes’ life compared to Fitz’s, a fact that lends an additional depth to their relationship.
It’s this blend of love, wisdom, and impending heartbreak that makes their bond feel so real and resonates with readers even after they close the book.
And in the echoing words of Nighteyes, “We are pack.”
It’s friendships like these that teach us the true magic in fantasy isn’t always about casting spells or slaying monsters—sometimes, it’s about having someone who’ll stand by your side, laugh at your bad jokes, and help you pick yourself up when you’ve had one too many pints of dwarven ale.
And aren’t those just the best types of friendships?
If you love a good bromance in fantasy, you might enjoy my Dawn of Assassins series which centres around the friendship of Fedor and Lev.
Read the prequel novel Birth of Assassins for free as part of your starter library.
Life is tough in Nordturm, but for Fedor, a street kid turned shoeshine boy, it becomes hell. Join him on a thrilling journey as he gets entangled with a gang of thieves in this prequel novel to the Dawn of Assassins series. Experience a coming-of-age high fantasy filled with assassins, thieves, and magic. Perfect for fans of Scott Lynch, Robin Hobb, and Brent Weeks. Get your copy now!
Fedor blew out the flame and dipped his brush into the melted polish. He studied the man’s shoes—simple, but well-made, soft black leather fastened with silver buckles.
He applied the polish to the right shoe, building up the first layer with gentle circles until the leather turned matte.
“You know, child. I was once where you were.”
Fedor applied the foundation layer to the left shoe.
“Though it was Hafendorf where I first plied my trade.”
Fedor gazed up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You were a polish boy?”
“No. I used to run messages on the docks.”
Fedor spat on the right shoe and brushed back and forth across the polish.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did?”
Fedor shrugged. “What’s the point?”
The man chuckled. “What’s the point? The point is I’m trying to teach you something. Tell me, child, how old are you?”
“I don’t know.” He brushed around the buckles and moved onto the other shoe.
“You’re not a man yet. What are you—twelve, thirteen?”
“I said, I don’t know.” He glared at the man’s questions and quickly averted his gaze—this was no way to get tips.
“I started off as a lowly messenger, dodging the curses of sailors, and I now run a merchant company with trading houses in Welttor, Nebel Hafen, Reichsherz, and I’m always looking to expand my operation.” He chuckled to himself. “And yet I still find myself dodging the curses of sailors.”
“Right.”
“And do you know how I did it?”
“I don’t.” Fedor pulled a leather cloth from his box and made small circles in the leather, bringing the surface to a deep shine.
The man leaned forward and tapped Fedor’s shoulder. “Do you want to know the secret?”
Fedor frowned. “To what?”
“To everything, of course.” The man looked around the market square, seemingly seeking inspiration from something or someone. Alchemical lights shone from the cave roof above, twisting his features with shadows. “The secret, my boy, is integrity.” He held Fedor’s gaze. “If you can be trustworthy, people will come back to you again and again.”
“Right.” He pulled his gaze away and wiped a mark from the left buckle.
“Believe me. It works much better than fear.”
Fedor sniffed. “You should tell that to the gangs round here.”
“Of course, you can get things done with fear and intimidation, but no one will thank you for it. As soon as your back is turned, you’re likely to find someone willing to drive a knife into your back.”
“I get it. Treat people bad and it comes back threefold. Priest talks about that all the time.”
“But it’s about more than merely avoiding pain. No, it’s about building trust over time. It’s about being reliable. It’s about integrity.”
“I don’t know what that word means.”
The man shook his head. “Simply put, integrity is about knowing the difference between right and wrong.”
“I know about sin.”
“Indeed. But there’s a difference between knowing and doing.”
Fedor raised the man’s feet to check the soles. He scraped away bits of dried dirt and salt from the grooves. He studied his work for a long moment and got to his feet on creaking knees. “All done.”
The man examined his shoes and took a piece of hack silver from his pocket. “This is for you. Thank you.”
Fedor pocketed the silver and tipped his cap. “Thanks, mister.”
“Remember what I said.” He held Fedor’s gaze. “We all have choices in this world.” He turned and walked away.
Fedor dropped his scraping tool into his box and sighed. “Whatever.” His eyes widened at the glimmer of silver resting on the seat. He snatched it up and turned it in his fingers. It showed a wyvern crest on one side and a profile of Ostreich’s last empress on the reverse—a one krone coin.
He hurriedly stuffed his cloth and brushes into his box and slammed the lid shut.
What if he kept the coin for himself?
With a sigh, he picked up his box and chased after the man.
He caught up to him at the stairs leading to the arena. “Hey, mister.”
The man spun on his heels and smiled at Fedor. “Ah, child. Is there a problem?”
Fedor handed the coin to the man. “This must have dropped from your pocket.”
The man studied the coin and tossed it back. “That coin is for you.”
“For me?” His eyes widened. “I didn’t know. You should have said.”
“If I had said, you wouldn’t have done the right thing.”
Deep lines set between Fedor’s eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
The man reached into his purse and pulled out another one-krone coin. He held it between his fingers and flicked it with his thumb, sending it turning through the air into Fedor’s hand. “And now you have two.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Remember what I said about integrity. Take care of yourself.”
“Erm, thank you.” The man strode away and Fedor shook his head. Who was he? What in the void was he trying to prove? His heart raced. Maybe it was another test. What if the priests had sent him to make sure Fedor was not pocketing the gains for himself? They would beat him again and feed him only scraps for a week. He refused to go through that again.
But if it was not a test—
A hand slapped down on his shoulder. “I don’t know what that was, but that was great. Never seen one like that before.”
Fedor vaguely recognised the lad, a few years his senior. He wore a grey shortcoat, white shirt, trousers, and boots, his sharp features shaded by a flat cap.
“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure, mate.” He pumped Fedor’s hand. “I’m Lev.”
“I’m confused.”
“Confused? Thought your name was Fedor?”
“It is. Wait, how do you know—”
“Quick.” He tugged Fedor’s wrist and ducked into a tunnel at the edge of the market square. “This way.”
“Where are we going?”
Lev stopped. “Here’s fine.” He looked past Fedor and nodded to himself. “Never tell who’s listening, you know?”
“What do you want?” Fedor glanced back over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, mate.” Lev held his palms open. “I got no intention of robbing you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Just want to know how you pulled it off.”
“Pulled what off?”
“You think I don’t recognise a scam when I see one? I’ve not seen that one before. How did it work? Is it just you?”
“Just me, what?”
“Mate, seriously?” Lev rolled his eyes and sighed. “I saw what happened. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”
“It wasn’t a scam. Honest.”
“No, mate. I saw it with my own eyes. You got Bartok Schultz to give you coin for no reason.” He fixed Fedor’s gaze. “I know a scam when I see one, trust me. How did you set it up?”
“It’s not a scam.”
“Course not.” He dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned forward. “Don’t worry. I’m not with the filth, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“I know you’re not with the watch. I’ve seen you around. The priests say you’re no good.”
Lev spat on the floor. “The priests. The bloody priests? You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d sooner trust a wyvern than a priest.” He took a step forward and sneered. “Tell me. Priests make you grab their dicks yet or shoved things up your arse?”
Fedor started at the curses. “No.”
“Maybe it’s just the girls they do that to. Dirty bastards, either way.”
“They wouldn’t do—”
“I bet they hit you, don’t they? Give you a good smack for no reason.”
“Only sometimes.” He shuffled on his feet. “Only when we’ve sinned.”
“Yeah, I bet. Perverts, the lot of them.” He jabbed Fedor’s chest. “You need to get out of there, mate, before they start trying to bum you.”
“Bum me?” He pressed his back against the wall, his eyes growing wide. He had never heard anyone speak like this about the priests before.
“Good-looking lad like you.” He shrugged. “Surprised they haven’t already. Bloody pervs.”
“How would you know?”
“Everyone knows, mate.” He let out a sigh. “That’s how they do it.”
“Do what?”
Lev inclined his head. “You’re not the smartest kid around here, are you?”
Fedor stared at him, his mouth unable to form words.
“Think about it. Where’s the best place to find kids who won’t grass to their parents?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “An orphanage?”
“See, you’re not a complete thicksicle.” He rubbed his hands together. “When you think about it, it all makes perfect sense.” He spat on the floor again. “Dirty bastards. You need to get out of there, get as far away from those nonces as you can.”
“I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“Those coins you scammed are a good start, mate. You got two, didn’t you?”
Fedor nodded.
“So, out with it then. How did it work?”
“I swear it wasn’t a scam.”
Lev eyed him up and down and nodded to himself. “You’re either a good liar, or you’re telling the truth.” He folded his arms. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was shining his shoes and he was talking about doing good, and how he’d been a messenger.”
“Go on.” He tapped his foot.
“When I finished, he left a coin on the chair, and I went after him to give it back.”
Lev sniffed. “I would have kept it.”
“But he said the coin was for me and gave me another.”
“And that’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“So, it was like a reward. You returned his coin and he gave you two? That’s genius, that is, mate.” Lev pushed out his bottom lip. “Great angle. Do-gooders like to do that. What you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know much, do you, mate? You should get us a good meal and place for the night. Get away from that orphanage.”
“I don’t know.” He fingered the coins in his pocket. “I think it might be a test.”
Lev studied him for several seconds. “What kind of test?”
“Doesn’t seem real, does it? I think the priests might be behind it.”
Lev rubbed his chin. “Make sense. Seems a bit far-fetched, though, doesn’t it?”
“But what if it is?”
“Nah, mate. You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “What difference does it make to the priests?”
“It’s not my money to keep.”
“He gave it to you, didn’t he?”
“Yes. But anything I earn goes to the priests.”
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow and snorted. “And I thought they abolished slavery.”
“It’s not slavery. They feed me. They give me a roof, a bed.”
“Honestly, mate. They used to give slaves places to eat and sleep. That’s your money, that is. I’d be in half a mind to tell one of the watch, though we don’t exactly see eye to eye, if you get my meaning.”
“I suppose.”
“You get money for shining shoes, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He paid for that as well, didn’t he? Bit of hack for your efforts, like the rest?”
Fedor narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been watching me?”
“I watch everyone, mate. It’s what I do. You’d be surprised what you see when you take time to watch. That’s what I do. I pay attention. I see things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Lots of things. Pay attention and the truth reveals itself, isn’t that what they say?”
Fedor shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“Trust me. People don’t pay attention to things. I do. I might even tell you what some of those things are if we work together.”
“Work together?”
“Sure. Why not? I can take you under my wing, show you what’s what. You seem like a smart enough kid. Bit wet behind the ears, like, but I’m sure we can sort you out.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Here’s an idea. Keep that hack aside for the priests and I can show you a good way to spend that coin.”
Fedor rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his voice. “But what if it’s a test?”
“What if it is? You’ve got to live in the moment. Take whatever they give you and move on. At least you’ll have a good night to show for it.”
Fedor licked his lips. “What you got in mind?”
“Meal. Nice room. Some good ale. Or, you could go down into the stinking foundries, spend another night with a priest who wants to bum you.”
“They don’t bum me.”
“Yet.” Lev raised a finger and grinned. “But there’s always time, mate.”
“But it’s a sin.”
“Depends who you ask.”
Fedor shook his head. “They wouldn’t do that.”
“You keep thinking that, mate.” He gestured back towards the market. “You get to the pubs much?”
Fedor shook his head. “No. We’re not allowed.”
“Well, in that case, we definitely need to do it. What you got to lose?”
“I don’t know.” Fedor shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”
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Explore the evolution of epic fantasy from Tolkien’s foundational works to today’s expansive sagas, tracing key authors, series, tropes, and innovations that have shaped the growth of the beloved fantasy genre.
Today, we’ll embark on a journey through the annals of epic fantasy, traversing the vast landscapes of imagination. From the legendary works of J.R.R. Tolkien to the sweeping sagas of Brandon Sanderson, we shall explore the evolution of this beloved genre. So, grab your walking stick, saddle your trusty steed, and let us begin the adventure.
Standing on Tolkien’s shoulders
In the beginning, there was Tolkien. And Tolkien said, “Let there be Middle-earth!” And lo, Middle-earth was born, replete with hobbits, elves, dwarves, and a fearsome Dark Lord. Tolkien’s monumental work, The Lord of the Rings, set the stage for all the epic fantasy that would follow. It was a tale of heroic deeds, grand quests, and a world so rich in detail, you’d think he’d been there himself. But Tolkien’s mastery of world-building and language was not without its consequences. For many years, the epic fantasy genre languished in his mighty shadow, with countless would-be wordsmiths attempting to recreate the magic of Middle-earth. Some reached for the stars, while others, fell rather short of the mark. But a new generation of authors emerged, each bringing their own unique flavour to the table.
The Wardrobe Opens with C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia
In the wake of Middle-earth’s creation by J.R.R. Tolkien, another towering figure in fantasy literature offered readers an invitation to a different kind of epic journey. C.S. Lewis, a close friend and contemporary of Tolkien, crafted a world of magic and adventure accessible through an ordinary wardrobe in his iconic series, The Chronicles of Narnia. While Tolkien endeavoured to craft an detailed, adult-oriented mythology, Lewis’ Narnia aimed to capture the imaginations of children. The Chronicles of Narnia, beginning with “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” introduced readers to a realm where animals talk, witches reign, and battles between good and evil are fought. One of the distinguishing elements of Lewis’ series is the blend of Christian allegory with elements of Greek, Roman, and Norse mythologies, as well as traditional British and Irish fairy tales. Aslan, the lion, is a figure of nobility and sacrifice, whose story arc draws heavily on Christian narratives, while other characters and plot elements borrow from a wide array of mythologies. This synthesis creates a world that is both familiar and fantastical, allowing for complex moral and philosophical explorations within an accessible, adventure-filled narrative. The Chronicles of Narnia demonstrated that epic fantasy could be made accessible and enjoyable to younger readers while still engaging with complex themes and moral questions.
Envisioning the Far Future with Jack Vance’s The Dying Earth
Stretching the temporal dimensions of epic fantasy to their limits, Jack Vance’s The Dying Earth presents a richly detailed world set so far in the future that it teeters on the brink of entropy.
First published in 1950, this collection of loosely connected stories takes place in a time when the sun is nearing the end of its lifespan, casting a perpetual twilight upon an Earth populated by strange creatures and remnants of advanced, forgotten civilisations.
The Dying Earth features vivid world-building, characterised by a mix of fantasy and science fiction elements.
Vance’s far-future Earth is both a playground of advanced technology and a cradle of arcane magics, blurring the line between the two.
His prose is marked by a distinctive, ornate style that lends a sense of antiquity and melancholic beauty to the tales.
Inventive and filled with eccentric characters, Vance’s series was among the first to combine elements of science fiction and fantasy in a single narrative.
Its dystopian portrayal of a dying world and advanced society in decline introduced darker, more complex themes to the genre.
The series also stands out for its influence on magic systems in fantasy literature, with its concept of ‘memorised spells’ having been adapted by several subsequent works and role-playing games.
Jack Vance’s The Dying Earth represents an important milestone in the evolution of epic fantasy.
By envisioning a world so far removed from our present or historical past, Vance expanded the genre’s temporal boundaries and demonstrated the potential of blending speculative genres to create rich, unique worlds.
His influence can be felt in countless later works that blend magic and science, and in those that take place in far-flung futures.
Discovering The Wizard of Earthsea
Published in the late 1960s, Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle was groundbreaking, blending elements of high fantasy, coming-of-age narrative, and philosophical exploration. Set in the archipelago of Earthsea, the story follows Ged, a young boy with innate magical talent. Le Guin’s Earthsea diverges from many fantasy realms by not focusing on grand battles and quests, but rather the inward journey of its protagonist. Ged’s struggles with his own pride and fear provide a powerful exploration of self-discovery and personal growth. Le Guin’s approach to magic is also worth noting. In Earthsea, magic is based on the idea of balance and understanding the true nature of things, primarily through their ‘true names’. This concept added a layer of depth and spirituality to the genre, reinforcing the idea that power comes with responsibility and often, personal cost. The Wizard of Earthsea’s focus on personal growth and introspection, along with its nuanced treatment of magic, were key milestones in the evolution of epic fantasy. Le Guin’s contribution showed that the genre was capable of tackling deep philosophical ideas and themes of personal identity, sowing seeds that would come to fruition in the works of future generations of fantasy authors.
Navigating Frank Herbert’s Dune
Frank Herbert’s Dune, while often categorised as science fiction, has had a profound influence on the epic fantasy genre. Its detailed world-building, complex political machinations, and exploration of ecology and religion have resonated deeply within the realms of fantasy literature. Dune unfolds on the desert planet Arrakis, the sole source of the universe’s most precious substance, the spice melange. The tale follows young Paul Atreides, who navigates a deadly web of political intrigue and warfare as he comes to terms with his destiny. Dune’s depth of world-building is striking. Herbert creates a universe rich in politics, religion, and ecology, detailing the interactions between various factions vying for control over the spice. This vastness and depth of world-building has become a hallmark of many epic fantasy narratives. Furthermore, the narrative delves into philosophy and the human condition, exploring themes of power, religion, and ecological stewardship. This blending of speculative fiction with complex thematic exploration is a facet that Dune shares with epic fantasy. Dune’s enduring legacy lies in its intricate narrative structure and the depths of its thematic exploration, which have become staples in the epic fantasy genre. It is a benchmark in speculative fiction, illustrating the genre’s potential for depth and complexity. Dune’s influence in the realm of epic fantasy is undeniable, with its contributions helping to shape the genre into its current form.
Soaring with Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonflight
Anne McCaffrey’s Dragonflight, the first book in the Dragonriders of Pern series, is a groundbreaking work that blurs the lines between science fiction and fantasy, making a lasting impact on the landscape of epic fantasy. Dragonflight introduces readers to the world of Pern, a colonised planet where the inhabitants have bio-engineered dragons to combat an alien spore, called Thread, that periodically rains down from the sky. McCaffrey’s world is one where traditional fantasy elements, such as dragons and telepathy, meld with science fiction concepts, including space travel and genetic manipulation. The narrative centres around Lessa, a young woman who forms a psychic bond with the dragon queen Ramoth, becoming a key player in Pern’s survival against the Thread. McCaffrey’s use of a strong, complex female protagonist, a rarity in the genre at the time of the book’s publication, has had a lasting impact on epic fantasy, paving the way for increased gender diversity in the genre. Dragonflight’s blend of science fiction and fantasy elements marked a departure from traditional epic fantasy tropes, expanding the genre’s boundaries. McCaffrey’s distinctive fusion of genres, combined with her focus on character-driven narrative, opened new avenues for thematic and narrative exploration within epic fantasy.
Unsheathing The Sword of Shannara
Making its debut in the mid-1970s, The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks played a pivotal role in the evolution of epic fantasy. It stands as one of the first successful high fantasy novels published after the monumental works of Tolkien, proving to the publishing world that readers were eager for more epic fantasy tales. Set in the Four Lands, a post-apocalyptic world brimming with magic, Brooks’ saga follows the half-elf Shea Ohmsford in his quest to wield the powerful Sword of Shannara against the malevolent Warlock Lord. The world of Shannara showcases a richly diverse cast of races including dwarves, gnomes, and trolls, as well as a unique magical system. While Brooks’ saga has drawn criticism for its perceived similarities to Tolkien’s work, it nevertheless helped to lay the foundation for modern epic fantasy. His storytelling, filled with grand quests, magical artifacts, and diverse characters, helped establish key tropes of the genre. The Sword of Shannara’s widespread popularity played a significant role in demonstrating the commercial viability of epic fantasy. This not only helped spawn a decades-long series of Shannara books but also paved the way for other epic fantasy authors.
Shattering Realities with Roger Zelazny’s Chronicles of Amber
In the 1970s, epic fantasy was given another twist, courtesy of Roger Zelazny’s Chronicles of Amber. Zelazny’s work blurred the boundaries between fantasy and science fiction, weaving a tale of intra-dimensional politics and metaphysical exploration that was as philosophical as it was thrilling. The Chronicles of Amber centre on Corwin, a member of the royal family of Amber, the one true world of which all others, including our Earth, are but mere shadows. The concept of infinite parallel worlds, each a variation of Amber, offered an innovative take on world-building. Rather than crafting a single, detailed setting, Zelazny created a multiverse teeming with possibilities. Zelazny’s Amber series features a sophisticated narrative, characterised by non-linear storytelling, unreliable narrators, and an elegant, allusive prose style that draws heavily from mythology and poetry. His work, while replete with action and intrigue, also delves into philosophical and metaphysical themes, pushing the boundaries of what was traditionally expected from fantasy literature. The Chronicles of Amber’s integration of fantasy, science fiction, and philosophical musings represented a significant shift in the genre, opening the door for later works that would further blur genre boundaries and deepen the thematic complexity of fantasy literature.
Embracing Complexity with Stephen Donaldson’s Thomas Covenant Series
In a daring departure from traditional heroics of epic fantasy, Stephen Donaldson introduced a profoundly flawed protagonist in his Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever series. Launched in 1977 with “Lord Foul’s Bane,” the series was revolutionary, as it grappled with complex psychological and ethical dilemmas through its eponymous character, Thomas Covenant. Covenant is an antihero who is thrust into a magical realm known as The Land while suffering from a severe crisis of disbelief, exacerbated by his real-world diagnosis of leprosy. The series is marked by Covenant’s struggle to accept the reality of The Land, whilst grappling with his sense of morality and the burden of power. Donaldson’s works are recognised for their exploration of the human condition, introspection, and the moral implications of power. They are characterised by their dense, literary style and philosophical underpinnings, offering a stark contrast to the straightforward heroism often found in the genre. The series demonstrated that epic fantasy could delve deep into complex emotional and psychological landscapes. By focusing on an antihero, Donaldson underscored that fantasy characters could be deeply flawed and conflicted, opening the door for more nuanced character development in the genre. The series challenged the notion of escapism often associated with fantasy literature, instead confronting readers with harsh realities and moral complexities. This move toward greater complexity and realism has significantly influenced subsequent authors, making the series a landmark in the evolution of epic fantasy.
Exploring Interdimensional Conflict
Adding a new dimension to epic fantasy, literally and figuratively, Raymond E. Feist’s Riftwar Saga begins with “Magician,” a novel that ushered readers into the twin worlds of Midkemia and Kelewan. The saga, beginning in the early 1980s, brought a fresh take to the genre, blending traditional fantasy elements with ideas borrowed from science fiction, such as interdimensional travel and alien cultures. Feist’s narrative focuses on an epic conflict, known as the Riftwar, between the inhabitants of Midkemia and Kelewan, brought on by a rift in space-time. Over the course of the saga, readers are treated to intricate plotlines and a vast cast of characters, encompassing everything from humble apprentices to powerful sorcerers, from human thieves to alien invaders. Feist’s work stands out for its fusion of epic and personal narratives. While the Riftwar provides a backdrop of grandeur and spectacle, the saga’s heart lies in its focus on characters’ growth and relationships, lending a personal dimension to the interdimensional conflict. Feist’s Riftwar Saga offered a unique blend of elements, taking the best of epic fantasy—grand scale, intricate world-building, a large cast of characters—and blending it with the alien worlds and interdimensional concepts more common in science fiction. This cross-genre pollination, combined with the series’ emphasis on character development, played a substantial role in shaping the direction of modern epic fantasy.
Dungeons & Dragons
While our journey has primarily focused on literary works, it would be remiss not to acknowledge the influence of the iconic tabletop role-playing game, Dungeons & Dragons (D&D), on the evolution of epic fantasy. Devised by Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson, D&D broke new ground in the world of gaming and storytelling, inviting players to step into the shoes of adventurers in a multitude of fantastical settings. It established a framework of rules, races, classes, and magic systems that has since become synonymous with fantasy role-playing games. The game encourages collaborative storytelling, as players navigate through adventures, or ‘campaigns,’ guided by a Dungeon Master. This approach blends elements of improvisational theatre, narrative storytelling, and strategic gameplay into a singular experience. In this way, D&D mirrors the richness of epic fantasy literature, offering characters, plots, and worlds that can be as complex and captivating as any novel. D&D has not only inspired numerous fantasy authors but has also led to its own successful line of novels, such as the Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms series (more on those in a moment). The game’s influence extends beyond the realm of literature and gaming, impacting broader pop culture and reinforcing the enduring appeal of the fantasy genre. Dungeons & Dragons’ influence on the evolution of epic fantasy cannot be overstated. It has influenced countless authors, and spawned its own rich literary tradition, solidifying its place in the annals of epic fantasy.
Rolling the Dice with Dragonlance
The Dragonlance series, initiated by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, holds a unique place in the evolution of epic fantasy. Born out of Dungeons & Dragons game sessions, the series merged the realms of tabletop gaming and fantasy literature, introducing a new level of collaborative storytelling and character development to the genre. Set in the world of Krynn, the Dragonlance series brought the high-stakes adventure and camaraderie of role-playing games to the page. The initial Chronicles Trilogy starts with “Dragons of Autumn Twilight,” launching readers into a tale of friendship, treachery, and epic battles, populated with a diverse cast of characters, each with their own distinctive traits and arcs. Dragonlance’s world-building is characterised by a blend of classic fantasy elements with original creations, such as the different types of dragons, the orders of knighthood, and the various races inhabiting Krynn. The pantheon of gods and the magic system in Dragonlance are also tied closely to the Dungeons & Dragons mechanics, creating a familiar landscape for fans of the game while extending the narrative possibilities. The series’ emphasis on character relationships and development, its exploration of moral themes, and the infusion of humour and camaraderie set it apart. The characters of Dragonlance, from the heroic Tanis Half-Elven to the enigmatic Raistlin Majere, resonate with readers, often because of their flaws and inner conflicts rather than their heroic deeds. The Dragonlance series, with its roots in Dungeons & Dragons, not only transformed the epic fantasy landscape but also highlighted the potential for role-playing games to inspire engaging and complex narratives.
Into the Depths with Forgotten Realms
Another cornerstone in the realm of fantasy literature rooted in the fertile ground of Dungeons & Dragons is the Forgotten Realms series. This franchise, with dozens of authors contributing over the years, has expanded into a vast literary universe that showcases the storytelling possibilities of shared-world settings. The most iconic subset of the Forgotten Realms series is R.A. Salvatore’s books featuring the drow, or dark elf, Drizzt Do’Urden. Drizzt, with his moral complexity, deep sense of honour, and struggle against his people’s cruel reputation, quickly captured readers’ imaginations, making him one of the most beloved characters in all of epic fantasy. Set within the sprawling world of Faerûn, the Forgotten Realms stories encompass a broad range of settings and characters. The vastness of this shared world allows authors to delve into a myriad of stories, from high-stakes epic quests to smaller, more personal narratives, all against a richly imagined backdrop. The Forgotten Realms series, particularly through iconic characters like Drizzt Do’Urden, underscores the genre’s ability to delve into the internal conflicts of individuals as much as external epic quests, offering a nuanced perspective on heroism and morality within the larger context of a shared universe.
Unraveling the Pawn of Prophecy
Continuing the trend of epic fantasy in the 1980s, David Eddings’ The Belgariad series, beginning with Pawn of Prophecy, brought a refreshing character-centric approach to the genre. Eddings constructed a richly detailed world filled with diverse cultures, a pantheon of gods, and prophecies that entwine fate and free will. The Pawn of Prophecy introduces us to Garion, an unassuming farm boy, who is catapulted into an epic quest to fulfill a grand prophecy. Eddings’ focus on character development and interactions, particularly in the banter among Garion’s traveling companions, set a new standard for character dynamics within the genre. Eddings’ approach to magic is also notable. In his world, sorcery is rooted in the Will and the Word, where a person’s will, when voiced, can influence the world. This concept adds an intellectual aspect to his magic system, tying it closely with the characters’ emotional states and mental discipline. The Belgariad series, with its blend of rich world-building, engaging characters, and thought-provoking prophecies, has made a lasting impact on epic fantasy, with several modern author citing at as the series that made them want to write their own epic fantasy. David Eddings demonstrated that at the heart of epic fantasy can be deeply human stories, where the characters and their relationships can be as compelling as the grandest of quests.
Unfolding Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun
Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun, a four-volume science fantasy epic, marks a significant departure from conventional epic fantasy narratives. Its fusion of science fiction and fantasy, coupled with a complex, layered narrative, has profoundly influenced the genre. The series is set in a far future Earth, now referred to as Urth, a dying world governed by a decaying society that has forgotten its technologically advanced past. The narrative is presented as a memoir of Severian, a journeyman torturer who is exiled for the crime of showing mercy. Wolfe’s work challenges the conventions of the genre, not just through its setting and narrative structure, but also through its complex use of language and its exploration of philosophical and theological themes. The narrative is rife with allusions, allegory, and symbolism, which add multiple layers of meaning, making each rereading a new experience. The Book of the New Sun also stands out for its unreliable narrator, Severian, whose flawed recollections add another layer of complexity to the narrative. This technique has influenced many contemporary fantasy authors, showcasing the narrative potential that lies in the unreliable perspective. The Book of the New Sun is a landmark in the evolution of epic fantasy, broadening the genre’s thematic and narrative horizons.
Entering The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger
When you think of Stephen King, the genre that first comes to mind is likely horror, not epic fantasy. Yet with The Dark Tower series, starting with The Gunslinger, King successfully merges these genres, producing a unique blend of epic fantasy, horror, western, and science fiction elements that defies easy categorization. The series follows the journey of Roland Deschain, the last Gunslinger, in his relentless pursuit of the enigmatic Man in Black and the quest for the Dark Tower. The Dark Tower itself, the nexus of all universes, is a compelling symbol of the intersection between order, chaos, and the protagonist’s obsession. King’s complex narrative blends the mundane with the fantastical, intertwining parallel worlds, multiple timelines, and a medley of characters each uniquely flawed yet endearing. The inclusion of elements from his other novels lends an additional layer of complexity to the series, effectively turning it into a meta-textual journey through King’s literary universe. With The Gunslinger, King successfully integrated elements of American Westerns—the lone gunslinger, the arid desert, the pursuit of a formidable enemy—into the epic fantasy genre, presenting readers with a unique take on the hero’s journey. The Dark Tower series demonstrates the flexibility of epic fantasy, highlighting its potential to borrow from and blend with other genres, further expanding its imaginative boundaries.
The Colourful Chaos of Discworld
Meanwhile, Terry Pratchett was busy turning the epic fantasy genre on its head with his satirical and whimsical Discworld series. Set on a flat world balanced on the backs of four elephants riding a gigantic turtle swimming through space, Discworld is a testament to the limitless bounds of the genre. Pratchett’s work played with tropes and clichés, using humour, satire, and wit to present deep philosophical and social commentaries. The diversity of his characters, from sentient luggage to witches and city watchmen, created a universe as colourful and chaotic as our own. By not taking itself too seriously, Discworld opened up a new path for the genre, one that allowed for laughter and profundity in equal measure. Pratchett’s contribution demonstrated that epic fantasy could be light-hearted yet thoughtful, pushing the boundaries of the genre in unexpected and delightful ways.
Returning to Roots with Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Trilogy
As epic fantasy continued to evolve, Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn trilogy returned to the genre’s roots while simultaneously pushing it towards new horizons. Launched with “The Dragonbone Chair,” the trilogy is lauded for its revival of traditional fantasy motifs, skillfully reimagined within a complex narrative and thematic framework. Set in the realm of Osten Ard, Williams’ series explores the fallout of a historic war between humans and the immortal Sithi. The trilogy centres around Simon, a young kitchen boy, who is catapulted into an epic quest replete with magic swords, ancient prophecies, and warring factions. While Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn employs traditional epic fantasy tropes, Williams breathes new life into these conventions. His characters are complex and well-drawn, with Simon’s journey from kitchen boy to hero unfolding in a realistic and compelling manner. Williams also delves into the complexities of power, history, and memory, infusing the series with a depth that transcends typical fantasy narratives. Perhaps the most lasting impact of Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, however, has been its influence on subsequent fantasy authors. George R.R. Martin, in particular, has cited the trilogy as an inspiration for his A Song of Ice and Fire series, praising Williams for showing that epic fantasy could offer both the wonder of the imaginary and the dissection of human nature.
Spinning Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time
Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series is a cornerstone in the landscape of epic fantasy, known for its enormous scope and intricate detail. Comprising 14 books, it is a sprawling saga set in a world that might be a far-future Earth, reshaping the genre with its depth and complexity. The series explores the cyclical nature of time through its protagonist, Rand al’Thor, the reincarnation of a powerful figure destined to fight the Dark One. Jordan’s work stands out for its enormous cast of characters, each contributing to the elaborate tapestry of a world teetering on the brink of chaos. The magic system in the Wheel of Time, based on the male-female duality of the True Source, is a masterful blend of eastern philosophy and western mysticism. This gender-based magic system contributes to the series’ exploration of gender dynamics, lending an interesting dimension to the narrative. Jordan’s world-building is astonishingly detailed. His societies are steeply stratified and feature distinct cultures, languages, and histories, making the world feel incredibly real and lived-in. He also masterfully interweaves political maneuvering, large-scale battles, and deeply personal character arcs, creating a rich, textured narrative. It is a testament to the genre’s capacity for grandeur and depth.
Exploring Historical Reflections
Known for his meticulous and evocative historical fantasy, Guy Gavriel Kay took a poetic leap with “A Song for Arbonne”. Published in 1992, the novel is set in a world inspired by the rich culture and turbulent history of the medieval Occitan region, now modern-day southern France. “A Song for Arbonne” offers readers a world of courtly love, bitter rivalries, and intricate political machinations, a backdrop against which Kay explores themes of love, honour, and the brutal cost of war. His characters, from the honour-bound Blaise to the fiercely independent troubadour, Lisseut, are drawn with a level of depth and complexity that elevates them beyond mere reflections of their historical counterparts. Kay’s approach to historical fantasy is unique in the way he infuses his world-building with a strong sense of real-world history. While he reimagines historical events and cultures, he does so with such finesse and depth of understanding that the resulting world feels as vibrant and real as any true historical setting. “A Song for Arbonne” is a prime example of how historical fiction and epic fantasy can meld together, creating a subgenre that offers the best of both worlds. The novel stands as a testament to Kay’s skill as a storyteller, demonstrating the potential of epic fantasy to delve deep into human history and experience. This work has undeniably influenced future authors who weave historical tapestries into their fantastical worlds.
Braving Westeros
A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin has indisputably reshaped the landscape of epic fantasy. Set in the continents of Westeros and Essos, the series is best known for its intricate character webs, political intrigue, and a disregard for protecting its key characters. The narrative, told from multiple points of view, explores the power struggles among noble houses vying for the Iron Throne. This multi-perspective storytelling gives readers a comprehensive look into the complex, often morally ambiguous world Martin has created. His characters, whether heroes or villains, are deeply flawed and multifaceted, challenging the traditional binaries of good and evil found in many epic fantasies. Martin’s world-building is meticulous. From the harsh winters of the North to the sprawling desert lands of Dorne, every setting is imbued with a distinctive culture, politics, and history. The series’ nuanced exploration of power, war, and societal structures sets it apart, making it a pioneer in ‘grimdark’ fantasy. However, Martin’s most significant contribution is arguably his willingness to subvert reader expectations by killing off key characters. This disregard for narrative safety adds a level of unpredictability, creating a palpable sense of danger and tension throughout the series.
Through the Eyes of the Farseer
Following this period of increasingly expansive and intricate world-building, a new chapter in the evolution of epic fantasy was heralded by the arrival of Robin Hobb and her Farseer Trilogy. Hobb took a different approach, bringing the reader down from the soaring heights of cosmic struggle and grandeur to focus on a single character’s perspective—FitzChivalry Farseer, a royal bastard trained as an assassin. Hobb’s mastery of character development and emotional depth added a new dimension to the genre. Her world-building, while no less rich or detailed, was presented more subtly, woven into the very fabric of Fitz’s life and experiences. She also introduced a unique magic system, where abilities range from animal telepathy (the Wit) to empathetic manipulation (the Skill). She showed that epic fantasy need not be all about grand conflicts and large casts, but can also be deeply personal and emotional, delivering epic scope through the lens of a single character’s experience.
Unveiling the Malazan Enigma
In the evolution of epic fantasy, Steven Erikson’s formidable Malazan Book of the Fallen series stands out. Erikson plunged readers into the deep end of a labyrinthine world, mirroring the complexity of real-life archaeology and anthropology. Spanning continents, timeframes, and dimensions, Erikson’s ten-volume epic navigates through a vast sea of races, ancient history, a uniquely intricate magic system called ‘Warrens’, and an array of gods who meddle in mortal affairs. But the grandeur of the Malazan world does not overshadow its exploration of philosophical and human themes. Erikson digs deep into topics like compassion, mortality, and the cyclic nature of history, using the Malazan universe as his canvas. His approach to storytelling, a jigsaw of perspectives and non-linear narratives, offers a multifaceted exploration of these themes. The Malazan Book of the Fallen, with its dense complexity and intellectual depth, stretched the boundaries of epic fantasy. It proved that the genre can engage the intellect while providing entertainment, and redefined expectations for world-building and narrative depth.
Exploring Parallel Worlds in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials
Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, beginning with “Northern Lights,” introduced a level of philosophical and theological depth to epic fantasy that was groundbreaking at the time of its publication. Set across parallel universes, including one resembling our own, the series follows Lyra Belacqua and Will Parry as they navigate complex universes teeming with witches, armoured bears, and daemons—external representations of a person’s inner self. What sets His Dark Materials apart is its ambitious tackling of profound philosophical and theological questions. The series deftly explores themes of free will, the nature of consciousness, and the criticism of organised religion. This thematic richness, combined with Pullman’s brilliant storytelling, brings an intellectual heft to the genre. Pullman’s creation of daemons—external manifestations of a person’s soul in the form of animal companions—is a unique contribution to epic fantasy, providing a strikingly original mechanism to explore characters’ inner lives. Furthermore, the series’ protagonist, Lyra, is a complex and engaging female character whose narrative is not defined by a romantic storyline, a relative rarity in the genre. Pullman’s focus on a strong, independent young female lead has had a lasting impact on epic fantasy, paving the way for more such empowering characters.
Flying High with Eragon
Christopher Paolini’s Eragon, the inaugural novel in the Inheritance Cycle, brought a youthful perspective to the epic fantasy genre. Written when Paolini was just a teenager, the series resonated with a younger audience, carving out a place for adolescent voices in the realm of epic fantasy. Set in the world of Alagaësia, Eragon follows the journey of its titular character, a young farm boy, whose life takes an adventurous turn when he discovers a mysterious blue stone that turns out to be a dragon egg. The story combines classic elements of epic fantasy, such as dragons, magic, and a grand quest, with a coming-of-age narrative that speaks directly to younger readers. The world-building in Eragon is expansive and immersive, featuring a host of races, languages, and cultures. Despite its traditional epic fantasy backdrop, the series manages to deliver a fresh take by focusing on the protagonist’s personal growth and the moral complexities he grapples with as he navigates his journey. Perhaps the most significant contribution of Eragon to the evolution of epic fantasy lies in its appeal to a younger audience. Paolini’s series helped to bridge the gap between children’s fantasy and adult epic fantasy, thereby expanding the readership of the genre.
Uncovering The Lies of Locke Lamora
, the first book in the Gentleman Bastard series, is a high-octane adventure that blends elements of epic fantasy with crime caper. This novel shines a light on the seedier side of fantasy, providing a refreshing contrast to stories of royal lineage and world-saving quests. The narrative introduces Locke Lamora, an orphan turned con artist leading a band of thieves known as the ‘Gentleman Bastards.’ In the city-state of Camorr, a place with Venetian-like canals and Elderglass towers, they execute elaborate scams targeting the city’s rich nobility. Lynch’s world-building is rich and immersive, portraying Camorr as a city teeming with political intrigue, gang warfare, and ancient secrets. The magic, while not as prevalent as in other fantasy novels, lurks in the background, adding an air of mystery and menace. What truly sets this novel apart is its focus on clever, high-stakes cons, and the deep camaraderie among the ‘Gentleman Bastards.’ Lynch presents an intriguing and gritty look at the lives of thieves, highlighting their ingenuity and resilience in a world filled with danger.
Unraveling Patrick Rothfuss’s Kingkiller Chronicles
Patrick Rothfuss’s Kingkiller Chronicles, beginning with “The Name of the Wind,” signify a distinctive approach to epic fantasy, combining traditional tropes with a deep dive into the psyche of its protagonist, Kvothe. The series unravels as a first-person narrative, with an older Kvothe recounting his life story to the Chronicler over three days. This framework lends a uniquely introspective slant to the narrative, delving into the character’s motivations, feelings, and innermost thoughts in a manner seldom seen in epic fantasy. Rothfuss’s world-building is both comprehensive and captivating, encompassing a magic system rooted in scientific principles, an array of diverse cultures, and a richly detailed history. The inclusion of songs, poems, and stories within the larger narrative creates a deeply immersive world, harking back to the oral tradition of storytelling. However, the series distinguishes itself through its focus on the personal journey of Kvothe. While most epic fantasies revolve around large-scale events and their implications, the Kingkiller Chronicles zeroes in on Kvothe’s life, from his days as a troupe performer to his time at the University stud/headying magic. This character-driven narrative creates a powerful sense of intimacy, making Kvothe’s triumphs and tribulations profoundly relatable.
Stepping into The Way of Shadows
Brent Weeks’ The Way of Shadows, the first installment in the Night Angel trilogy, is an exhilarating foray into the dark underbelly of a world where assassins, or “wetboys,” wield magic. The novel features a high-stakes tale of survival and transformation, delving into themes of power, sacrifice, and the moral complexities of vengeance. The protagonist, Azoth, is a guild rat, struggling for survival in the slums, who apprentices himself to Durzo Blint, the realm’s most feared assassin. His transformation into Kylar Stern, a professional killer, challenges the narrative conventions of the hero’s journey, exploring the harsh realities and moral ambiguities that come with his profession. Weeks’ world-building is striking in its grit and complexity, with a magical system that is both mystical and cruel. The magic, termed Talent, is intertwined with the profession of wetboys, who employ it not just for killing, but also for stealth, healing, and even immortality. The Way of Shadows blends elements of epic fantasy with a dark, almost noir-like atmosphere, resulting in a distinctly grim and captivating narrative. Its focus on a morally gray protagonist, intricate magic system, and the exploration of sacrifice and survival broadens the horizons of epic fantasy. Weeks’ series signifies the genre’s capacity for darkness and introspection, and the continuing exploration of its ethical boundaries.
Reframing Morality with Joe Abercrombie’s First Law Trilogy
Entering the scene in the mid-2000s, Joe Abercrombie’s First Law Trilogy cast a gritty, grey-tinted lens on the epic fantasy genre. Known for its grim realism, moral ambiguity, and raw characterisation, Abercrombie’s series marked a significant departure from the genre’s traditional ‘good versus evil’ narrative. The series, beginning with “The Blade Itself,” introduces us to a range of deeply flawed, complex characters, from a barbarian warrior to a crippled torturer. Abercrombie’s world is not one of clear-cut heroes and villains but a murky realm where characters wrestle with their own vices, prejudices, and questionable morality. Abercrombie’s works stand out for their harsh realism and biting wit. He handles violence with unflinching honesty, emphasising its brutality and consequences. His knack for subverting tropes and expectations has made the First Law Trilogy a standard-bearer for the ‘grimdark’ subgenre of fantasy.
Facing the Darkness with Peter V. Brett’s Demon Cycle
In a world where nightfall brings fear and the ever-present threat of demonic attack, Peter V. Brett’s Demon Cycle unfolds. Starting with “The Warded Man” in 2008, the series melds the traditional fantasy premise of good versus evil with a nuanced examination of human nature and societal dynamics. Brett’s world is one besieged by demons, known as corelings, rising from the earth’s core each night. The only defence against these creatures are the protective wards, ancient symbols of power, which the inhabitants of this world use to shield their homes. This daily fight for survival creates a tense and relentless atmosphere that permeates the entire series. Central to the Demon Cycle’s narrative is the journey of its characters, from fearful survivors to heroes. However, Brett adds depth by highlighting the societal changes and conflicts that emerge as these characters wield their newfound power, raising questions about leadership, responsibility, and the cost of survival. The Demon Cycle is a significant contribution to the epic fantasy genre for its fusion of traditional fantasy tropes with intense survival drama and sociopolitical commentary. The series demonstrates how the boundaries of epic fantasy can be expanded without sacrificing its core themes of heroism and conflict.
Exploring A Darker Shade of Magic
V.E. Schwab’s A Darker Shade of Magic, the inaugural book in the Shades of Magic series, is an exhilarating dive into parallel Londons, each with its own distinct relationship with magic. Schwab’s novel masterfully blends elements of epic fantasy, parallel universes, and adventure, adding a splash of vibrant colour to the genre. The story revolves around Kell, an Antari magician who can travel between four different Londons—Red, Grey, White, and the forbidden Black London. Each of these worlds is strikingly unique, varying in their level of magical saturation and societal structures, and is brought to life through Schwab’s immersive world-building. Schwab introduces a compelling magic system, where magic is seen not just as a tool but as a living entity with its own will. The relationship between the characters and magic is intrinsically tied to the world they inhabit, forming a crucial part of the narrative’s tension and intrigue. Also noteworthy is Delilah Bard, a cunning thief from Grey London, who aspires to be a pirate. Schwab deftly subverts the damsel-in-distress trope with Delilah, who is driven by her ambition and thirst for adventure. A Darker Shade of Magic is an excellent representation of the innovative potential in epic fantasy and showcases the vast, multi-dimensional landscape that epic fantasy literature has evolved to inhabit.
Diving into Six of Crows
Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows, the first in a duology, blends the thrilling heist elements of crime fiction with the immersive world-building of epic fantasy, creating a unique narrative that broadens the genre’s scope. Set in the gritty, bustling city of Ketterdam, a hub for international trade and criminal activity, the story revolves around Kaz Brekker and his crew of skilled outcasts. These misfits are tasked with a near-impossible heist: breaking into the impenetrable Ice Court to retrieve a prisoner with invaluable knowledge. Bardugo’s world-building is rich and intricate, extending the Grishaverse established in her earlier trilogy. She uses the heist as a narrative device to explore the socio-economic dynamics, racial disparities, and political machinations in this morally grey world. The novel stands out for its well-drawn ensemble cast, each with a complex backstory and personal motivations that drive the narrative. They bring diversity to the genre, not just in terms of their varied backgrounds, but also through the exploration of themes such as trauma, addiction, and identity. Six of Crows is a testament to the genre’s ability to evolve beyond conventional fantasy tropes and settings. Bardugo skillfully intertwines elements of crime and epic fantasy, crafting a narrative centered around a high-stakes heist while exploring themes of friendship, loyalty, and survival.
Sailing with The Grace of Kings
Ken Liu’s The Grace of Kings, the first in the Dandelion Dynasty series, signals a significant shift in the epic fantasy genre towards a more diverse and globally inspired narrative. Drawing on elements from Chinese history and mythology, Liu crafts an epic tale of rebellion, friendship, and the transformative power of stories. The story takes place in the islands of Dara, where two unlikely friends, the bandit Kuni Garu and the defiant nobleman Mata Zyndu, rise against the tyranny of the emperor. Their friendship, tested by the tumult of rebellion and their differing ideologies, forms the emotional core of the narrative. Liu’s world-building is elaborate and distinctly Eastern in flavour, a divergence from the predominantly Eurocentric settings in epic fantasy. He infuses the narrative with elements of Chinese philosophy, mythological creatures, and a unique system of airships and battle kites. Liu’s innovative blend of epic fantasy with elements of wuxia, silkpunk, and Chinese history exemplifies the potential for cultural diversity within the genre.
Unleashing The Fifth Season
Marking a shift in the tectonic plates of epic fantasy, N.K. Jemisin’s groundbreaking The Fifth Season redefined what the genre could encompass. Set in a dystopian world, The Stillness, plagued by catastrophic climate changes known as ‘Seasons’, Jemisin weaves a story of survival, oppression, and the power of the earth itself. Jemisin’s innovative narrative structure, employing second-person point of view and non-linear storytelling, challenged traditional storytelling conventions, lending a distinctive voice to the genre. She breathed life into her characters and magic system, where ‘orogenes’ can control seismic activity, adding new layers to the world-building palette of epic fantasy. Jemisin uses the plight of the orogenes to explore themes of systemic oppression and racism, embedding these discussions naturally within her world. Her nuanced treatment of these subjects is both challenging and thought-provoking, ensuring her work resonates beyond the realm of fiction. The Fifth Season, with its fusion of sociopolitical themes and inventive storytelling, solidified Jemisin’s place as a transformative force in epic fantasy.
Igniting the Powder Mage Revolution
Brian McClellan’s Powder Mage trilogy ignited a fresh spark in the world of epic fantasy with its innovative blend of traditional magic and historical elements, forming a genre sometimes referred to as ‘flintlock fantasy.’ McClellan constructs a unique world that resembles 18th-century Europe in the throes of revolutionary fervor, yet suffused with magic, where the smell of gunpowder is as familiar as the scent of blood. The story revolves around a diverse group of characters caught up in political upheaval and civil war, including the titular ‘Powder Mages.’ These are individuals who can manipulate gunpowder to explosive effect, and even ingest it to enhance their physical abilities. This inventive magic system, juxtaposed with the series’ more conventional ‘Privileged’ sorcerers, establishes a tense dynamic that reflects the broader class struggle within McClellan’s world. The Powder Mage series offers a distinctive twist on epic fantasy, merging elements of historical and military fiction with traditional fantasy tropes. McClellan’s emphasis on military strategy, political intrigue, and battlefield tactics, combined with his gritty, unvarnished portrayal of war, adds a layer of realism that grounds the fantastical elements of the story. Through the Powder Mage trilogy, McClellan demonstrates that epic fantasy can successfully incorporate and reimagine elements from other genres. His unique blend of magic, history, and politics not only expands the genre’s boundaries but also highlights the creative potential of epic fantasy, contributing to its ongoing evolution.
The Onset of The Poppy War
Navigating a fresh course in the sea of epic fantasy, R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War offers a gripping, ruthless perspective on war and its costs. Drawing inspiration from the tumultuous history of 20th century China, including the Second Sino-Japanese War and the Opium Wars, Kuang masterfully interweaves real historical events with fantastical elements, offering a rich, immersive backdrop for her tale. The story follows Rin, a war orphan who escalates from obscurity to power through sheer determination and grit, but soon finds herself embroiled in the brutality of war and divine politics. Rin’s journey is not one of heroism in the traditional sense—instead, it’s a harrowing examination of the devastating effects of war and the corrosive influence of power. Kuang’s depiction of magic is tied intrinsically with gods and the price one must pay for their help. This links the fantastical with the horrific realities of war, and serves as a metaphor for the destructive power of weapons and the ethical dilemmas inherent in their use. The Poppy War is a stark departure from many of its epic fantasy contemporaries. Its unflinching portrayal of war’s horrors and its engagement with themes of colonialism, racism, and power dynamics present a challenging, thought-provoking narrative. Kuang’s work underscores the capacity of epic fantasy to grapple with grim historical realities and complex moral issues, further broadening the genre’s horizons.
The Unfolding of The Green Bone Saga
Fonda Lee’s Green Bone Saga, beginning with “Jade City”, offers a unique hybrid of epic fantasy and crime thriller, set in a world reminiscent of 20th-century Asia. Lee’s trilogy deftly mixes martial arts, organised crime, and magic into a narrative that challenges traditional definitions of epic fantasy. Centred on the island of Kekon, the story is grounded in the power of jade, a substance that bestows superhuman abilities upon its wearers. The societal and economic implications of jade form the heart of the narrative, with rival clans vying for control over its trade. Lee’s portrayal of jade as both a source of power and a potential curse mirrors the double-edged nature of wealth and ambition in real-world societies. Character dynamics in the Green Bone Saga are deeply entwined with family loyalty and clan politics. The protagonists, members of the Kaul family, must navigate treacherous political waters while dealing with their own interpersonal struggles and the moral complexities of their actions. With the Green Bone Saga, Lee effectively fuses elements of gangster drama with epic fantasy, creating a world that feels lived-in and authentic.
Exploring New Horizons with Black Leopard, Red Wolf
Marlon James’ Black Leopard, Red Wolf, the first installment in the Dark Star Trilogy, signifies a powerful emergence of Afrofuturism in the realm of epic fantasy. With a narrative that interweaves African history, mythology, and James’ potent imagination, the novel challenges conventional fantasy tropes and brings in a fresh, non-Western perspective. The novel’s protagonist is Tracker, a man with a keen sense of smell, who’s hired to find a missing boy. Accompanied by a diverse cast of characters including a shape-shifting man-leopard, he traverses ancient cities, dense forests, and treacherous kingdoms on his quest. James’ world-building is both immersive and expansive, drawing heavily from African folklore and mythology. This rich cultural tapestry gives rise to a fantastical realm filled with unforgettable creatures, mystical landscapes, and deeply entrenched power struggles. But it’s not just the African-inspired setting that distinguishes the novel. Black Leopard, Red Wolf is an exploration of truth and power, of love and loss, and the destructive and redemptive aspects of humanity. With Black Leopard, Red Wolf, Marlon James redefines the boundaries of epic fantasy, bringing in the richness and diversity of African culture. His complex narrative, combined with an innovative approach to storytelling, contributes significantly to the evolution of the genre, making it more inclusive and globally representative.
Riding the Indie Wave with Michael J. Sullivan’s Riyria Revelations
As the publishing landscape expanded and evolved, so too did the paths available to authors in the epic fantasy genre. One such trailblazer is Michael J. Sullivan, whose Riyria Revelations series emerged as a leading light in the independent publishing sector. Riyria Revelations, which begins with “Theft of Swords,” combines traditional epic fantasy tropes with a buddy-cop dynamic, as it follows the adventures of the skilled thief Royce Melborn and his mercenary partner Hadrian Blackwater. Sullivan’s journey to publication is particularly noteworthy. Initially rejected by corporate publishers, Sullivan decided to self-publish his work. His series quickly gained a devoted following for its unique blend of high fantasy, humour, and heartl, illustrating the possibilities for independent authors in the modern publishing landscape. The rise of self-publishing and independent authors like Sullivan has significantly broadened the epic fantasy genre. It allows for greater diversity in storytelling, as authors who might not fit the traditional publishing mold, or whose stories are deemed too risky or niche, can now reach their audience directly. This freedom has led to a flourishing of new voices and narratives, enriching the genre in countless ways. Sullivan’s Riyria Revelations not only demonstrates the compelling storytelling of indie authors, but it also serves as an important reminder of the evolving pathways to publication in the genre. Indie publishing continues to reshape the epic fantasy landscape, offering both authors and readers alike a wider array of narratives to explore and enjoy.
Allomancy and Highstorms: A New Giant Emerges
It’s fair to say we find ourselves in the age of Brandon Sanderson. A veritable powerhouse of the genre, Sanderson has crafted works of staggering scope and imagination. Sanderson’s Mistborn series is a key development in the epic fantasy genre, recognised for its innovative magic system, intricate plotting, and complex character development. The series, beginning with “The Final Empire,” is set in a world where the prophesied hero has failed, and a tyrant known as the Lord Ruler has established a reign of terror. Sanderson’s narrative turns the typical fantasy trope of the ‘chosen one’ on its head, offering a fresh perspective on the epic quest narrative. However, the series’ standout feature is Sanderson’s intricate magic system. Allomancy, the main magical system in Mistborn, is based on metals, where ‘Mistings’ can ingest and ‘burn’ a single type of metal to gain specific abilities, while ‘Mistborn’ can use all. This highly structured, almost scientific approach to magic has been influential in the genre, prompting other authors to rethink magic as a system with its own laws and limitations. His characters are multi-dimensional, each with their own flaws, strengths, and motivations. The narrative weaves multiple plot threads together, building towards an intricate, well-executed conclusion that pays off the series’ various narrative strands. Following the Mistborn series, Sanderson embarked on an even more ambitious project, The Stormlight Archive. Roshar is a world beset by fierce storms, and its flora and fauna have evolved to survive in these harsh conditions. This unique setting lends itself to some of the most original world-building in the genre. Sanderson creates complex societies, intricate political structures, and detailed histories that enrich the reader’s experience of Roshar. Sanderson introduces several magic systems in The Stormlight Archive, including Surgebinding and Shardbearing, each with their own distinct rules and limitations. This approach further showcases Sanderson’s ability to innovate within the epic fantasy genre, taking the idea of structured magic systems to new heights. The series also features a diverse ensemble of characters, each with their own narrative arc, contributing to a multi-layered, complex story. Characters grapple with issues of morality, duty, and identity, lending a depth and realism to the epic narrative. The Stormlight Archive, with its exceptional world-building, multiple magic systems, and complex character arcs, represents a high point in the evolution of epic fantasy. By weaving together these elements in a grand narrative, Sanderson demonstrates the genre’s potential to explore complex themes and ideas while captivating readers with rich, imaginative worlds. His Stormlight Archive series, still in progress, is emblematic of the ongoing evolution of epic fantasy. As the genre continues to grow and change, so too do the expectations of its readers. Gone are the days when a simple tale of good vs. evil could suffice; now, readers demand intricate plots, morally ambiguous characters, and worlds so vast and detailed, they could be charted by a cartographer.
Embracing the Future of Epic Fantasy
And, so, we have arrived at the present day, with epic fantasy more diverse and imaginative than ever before. From Tolkien’s foundational work to Sanderson’s groundbreaking sagas, the genre has grown by leaps and bounds, enchanting readers the world over. It is a testament to the power of human imagination and the enduring appeal of a good story. As we stand on the precipice of uncharted literary territory, one thing is certain—the future of epic fantasy is as bright and boundless as it has ever been. And so,let us raise our goblets in a toast to the tales that have come before, and to those yet to be told. Cheers!
Melissa Ragland, the critically acclaimed author of the A Crown of Lilies fantasy series, takes us on a captivating journey in this interview. Discover her inspiration, writing process, and thoughts on fantasy writing. Grab a cuppa and delve into the world of Melissa Ragland’s enchanting stories. Perfect for fans of Scott Lynch, Robin Hobb, and Brent Weeks.
Melissa Raglandis the critically acclaimed author by the A Crown of Lilies fantasy series.
In this interview, we will delve into her journey as a writer, her inspiration, and her thoughts on fantasy writing.
So grab yourself a cuppa and let’s get started…
What inspired you to start writing in the fantasy genre?
I’ve been making up stories since I was a little girl. By the time I began writing them down, the subject matter had begun to trend toward the types of books I loved the most: fantasy. From the dragons of Pern to Anne Bishop’s dark epics, tales of magic and adventure have always resonated deeply with me. I wanted to paint those kinds of worlds, those kinds of characters, with a brush of my own.
How do you approach world-building in your stories?
I’m obsessed with world-building. For my own part, I work out every piece of the universe I want to write in. Politics, culture, traditions, religion, wars, geography, you name it, and it’s probably scribbled in a journal somewhere. I think it’s important that the author understands their world to that extent. I think it’s equally important not to dump all of it on the reader, though.
Giving some context about a nation’s history is one thing, but readers don’t need to know the main export of the neighboring province of the main character’s second cousin. The payoff for your restraint, as a writer, is those little moments where you get to reveal another critical piece of this vast world you’ve built to the reader. You know that they’ll experience a little ‘aha’ moment, and become even more invested in the universe because they understand a bit better how all the pieces work together.
Can you walk us through your writing process?
I started as a pantser, only plotting out the next chapter as I went along. My desk was a mess of notecards and ideas scribbled in journals. When I started the edits for my second book, I realized what a mistake that was and my organizer-brain took over. Now I’m a strict plotter and I use Dabble to keep my outline and notes in order.
As for the process itself, I’m pretty Plain Jane. I know many authors jump around their manuscript to keep writing when they get stuck, but I can’t do it. I have to start at the beginning and work through it. Even though I outline, there’s a lot of nuance that comes out in the actual drafting and by jumping around, I feel like it’s too easy to drop those threads.
Would you survive in your own fantasy world?
I’d like to think so! I’m resourceful and a good problem-solver. Honestly, though, I have absolutely no poker face so I’d be worthless at court. Maybe I’d be okay if I was incarnated as something mundane like a dressmaker’s apprentice or a stable hand.
What themes do you explore in your work?
I like to think that humanity is the primary theme behind all my writing. Fiction has a tendency to portray characters and events in terms of good an evil, but human nature spans such an immense range between the two that those concepts almost lose all meaning. Most of our actions in life fall in the gray space between. That is where I believe the greatest strength of our species lies: in enduring, in making mistakes, in facing our failures and striving to be better.
What do you consider to be your biggest influences as a writer?
Music can get me into the flow when nothing else can. I don’t always listen to music when I’m writing, but I’m gearing up for a session or doing some brainstorming, it’s a must.
What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to research for your stories?
For book 2 (Lazerin), I spent hours researching how thatched roofs are made. I watched dozens of videos on YouTube, read articles about historic buildings, crawled through blog posts. In the end, it ended up only impacting a few paragraphs, but I learned a lot!
What do you hope readers take away from your stories?
Entertainment, of course, but also inspiration. I hope my characters inspire readers to look at themselves and their lives in a more forgiving light. It’s possible to make all the wrong choices, to make costly mistakes, and still be a force for good. Keep getting back up. Keep fighting. It might not always work out, but keep trying to do the right thing.
Would you rather have a pet dragon or a unicorn, why?
Dragon, of course! But maybe just a small one because I don’t think my grocery budget can support a Game of Thrones level dragon. Meat is expensive, these days!
If you could have any magical ability, what would it be?
Immortality. I’d spend centuries learning every language, reading every book, writing all the stories in my head, and perfecting my chocolate chip cookie recipe.
If you were stuck on a deserted island with one of your characters, who would it be and why?
Aubrey! Because if Pirates of the Caribbean taught us anything, it’s that deserted islands always have hidden stashes of rum and Aubrey would be the most fun on a multi-day bender.
What would you name your pet dragon?
Assuming it’s a small library-guardian sort of dragon, I’m gonna go with Frank.
Where is the best place to start reading your work?
All my books are free to read on Kindle Unlimited and I also offer review copies on Story Origin.
A voracious reader from her youth, Melissa Ragland has spent her life absorbing stories. In libraries and bookstores, she devoted three decades to the study of fiction, dissecting the weave and weft of good storytelling.
Now, after a long stint in the much-beloved heat of Austin, Texas, Ragland has returned to the Midwest woodlands of her youth to pursue her lifelong passion for writing. Her lush and unapologetic debut fantasy series has earned accolades from readers and fellow authors alike, with book one (‘Traitor’) being selected as a Page Turner Awards finalist and earning a Reedsy Discovery five-star review.
Experience the thrilling world of assassins and dark fantasy in Jon Cronshaw’s “Crucible of Shadows.” Fast-paced action, witty banter, and a dangerous gang await in this gripping installment of the “Dawn of Assassins” series. Perfect for fans of roguish fantasy.
Greasy sweat coated Fedor’s back and neck as he stared half-focused at the Rusty Sail’s back room wall. Peeling gloss revealed bare pine beneath, the wood’s knots and whorls shifting and expanding in time with his heartbeat.
His eyelids drooped again and the top of his head pressed against the wall behind him as a wave of pleasure washed up from the base of his spine, triggering sparks inside his skull, bliss mushrooming in his mind.
He breathed in another mouthful of smoke, its metallic tang setting his teeth on edge and unmooring his thoughts.
His muscles softened.
Burning flooded his lungs, the heat melting him to wax.
The pipe slipped from his fingers and his head flopped down onto the cushion, his eyes flickering shut, his breaths shuddering.
Something like liquid hands enclosed him, soft and warm and comforting and endless. The edges of memory caressed him—his mother holding him close to her chest, her cheek resting on the top of his head as she rocked him to sleep.
He floated in a pool of yellow light for a long time as colours danced around him, splashing him with love and beauty, every wish fulfilled, every problem, every worry, every anxiety no more than a distant contained dot, no more than an ant trapped under a jar.
The images subsided, melting into yellow warmth, dislocated from time…from everything.
His limbs disappeared, allowing him to drift—a formless self in the endless yellow nothing.
He became aware of another sensation, a sensation beyond his body, beyond the yellow.
A hand, a real hand, two hands. It gripped his shoulder, both shoulders, and shook him away from that place.
His eyes snapped open.
He focused on a familiar face for a second, tried to form a curse, and closed his eyes again.
Words struck his ears as if heard through deep water.
A slap to the face shifted his awareness.
Pain. Stinging. Heat.
He opened his eyes slowly, his hand drifting up to his throbbing cheek, and he met Lev’s glare with one of his own.
“Mate, what the fuck? How many times?” Lev’s features came in and out of focus. “Get up.”
Fedor’s head wobbled to the side and he mumbled something half-formed in his mouth. He just wanted to drift, to return to that place of bliss. If he closed his eyes for long enough, it would all go away—the memories, the pain—all of it would seep into nothing, become one with the endless yellow.
The shakes came again, this time harder.
He looked around the room at the other men and women staring at him and he met Lev’s gaze.
Lev reached down and hoisted him to his feet.
For a moment, he feared he might continue up through the ceiling, and float off through the lower city and into the clouds, joining the balloons and wyverns and seagulls as they glided on the breeze.
“Mate. Look at me. Mate.”
His attention latched onto Lev.
“No. Keep bloody focused on me.”
Fedor closed his eyes and sank back to the cushion.
Another slap came to his face.
He found himself standing again and tried to wriggle out of Lev’s tight grip. But his arms did not move in the way he wanted. “Leave me alone,” he slurred. “Leave me here.”
“No. You’re coming with me.” Lev cupped Fedor’s face in his hands and held his gaze steady, those dark pupils burrowing into him. “You can’t stay here.”
Fedor stared at nothing.
The slap came again and his focus shifted back to Lev and his breath, tinged with whisky.
“Look at me, you fucking dickhead.”
“Huh?”
“I said, look at me. You need to focus.” Lev gestured to the door, his words slow and clear. “I am taking you home. Do you understand?”
Fedor gazed longingly at the cushion, his focus catching the play of light down the length of the pipe.
Lev jerked him in a twist and marched him from the back room and into the main bar.
A thin man in a robe blocked Lev’s path and offered him a chequerboard smile. “Brother, your friend shouldn’t be taken like this.”
Lev drew his club and held it out with one hand, his hold on Fedor remaining firm. “You going to fucking stop me, mate? You want me to knock a few more of those teeth out for you?”
The man stepped forward, reaching for Fedor.
Lev shoved him back against the bar.
“Thirty-three, mate. This is a fucking thirty-three.”
“Wha—”
“I’m taking you home.”
Unable to protest, Fedor gave a weak nod, and allowed Lev to lead him away.
Available from February 1 on Kindle and paperback.
Embark on a thrilling journey with Jon Cronshaw’s dark fantasy novel, Dawn of Assassins. Join Fedor, a reluctant apprentice to a master assassin, as he navigates a dangerous world of life and death. With captivating characters and heart-pounding action, this is a must-read for fans of gritty fantasy adventures. Start reading now and get ready for an unforgettable tale that will keep you on the edge of your seat.
Gaslamps illuminated the flagstones with dull light, bringing with them the constant hiss of the Nordturm night. Fedor raced across Kathryn Square when a pair of patrolling constables disappeared from view.
He knew their route well, their timings, their patterns, their habit of doling out violence before asking questions. He’d been at the receiving end more times than he could count, but nothing left deeper bruises than a beating from the watch.
His gaze shifted to his crewmates, Yorik and Onwyth, their forms barely visible against the night, their whistles signalling the all-clear.
He gestured for Lev to follow him around the Mercer’s Company building, its walls glowing white against the moonlight, and positioned himself below the drainpipe. He’d worked hundreds of jobs as Lev’s second—sneaks, snatches, scams—all with the hope that one day they would score big.
Lev squeezed his shoulder. “You ready, mate?”
Fedor glanced up at the roof, his stomach muscles clenching. “You sure this thing’s legit?”
“Lita said so.” Lev pulled his hat down. “Who am I to argue?”
“I just don’t get why no one else has bothered before.”
Lev let out a sigh. “Let’s just focus on the payoff.”
“Right.” Fedor began to climb, his teeth gritted as he heaved himself up three storeys.
Cold wind blew in from the Braun Sea, muffling the sounds of the city below. If Yorik or Onwyth whistled the signal to abandon the job, would he hear?
When he reached the roof, he flexed his fingers and took a moment to catch his breath as Lev slowly made his way up the pipe.
Upper Nordturm’s rooftops glistened with the day’s earlier rainfall, reflecting the light from hundreds of dotted gas lamps, and the full moon staring down from the blackness.
“It’s higher up here than you’d think.” Lev stretched and gazed across the city. “You can see for miles.”
Taking care not to slip, Fedor clambered up the slate tiles. When he reached the roof’s apex, his eyes latched onto the weathervane.
It stood just over half his height—a black wyvern cast in wrought iron, its wings thrust back, no doubt to create the illusion of flight and a flat surface to catch the wind.
“You sure this is—” He spotted the weathervane’s ravenglass eyes, deep endless black orbs swallowing the shadows. “Wow.”
Lev rubbed his hands together and elbowed Fedor aside. “Look at the size of those beauties.”
“I still don’t get why people pay so much for these things. It’s not like they do stuff.”
“You could say that about anything, mate.” Lev cracked his knuckles, crouched next to the weathervane, and groped around the eye sockets. “They’re in pretty tight.”
“You got the bag of tools?”
“You’re a bag of tools.”
Fedor sighed. “Have you got them?”
“Yeah.” Lev reached inside his coat and pulled out a crowbar. “Just be ready if this thing pops out.”
Fedor listened out for warning calls from the others and stood behind Lev in an awkward half-crouch, his hands spread, ready to catch.
“This thing isn’t shifting.” Lev pulled off his flat cap, revealing curls of black hair matted with sweat, and dragged a sleeve across his brow.
“Maybe you need to cut round it.” He stiffened at an owl call—a signal from Yorik. “Shit.”
“Ignore it.”
Fedor glanced back over his shoulder as a pair of constables joined the square below. “The watch are about. They shouldn’t be here.” A breath caught in his throat. “Shit.”
“Screw the watch, mate.” Lev waved a hand. “They won’t see us up here.”
“They could. The moon’s pretty bright.” He glanced up at the moon and licked his lips. “I don’t know…maybe we should call a thirty-three?”
“Sack that.” Lev shot him a glare. “Mate, we’re here. No way they can see us.”
Fedor swallowed.
“And even if they did, who knows these rooftops better than us? Those waddling bastards don’t stand a chance.”
Lev was right.
Fedor just had to hold his nerve. He’d chosen his hooded tunic and leggings to match the tone of the slates. They were as good as invisible. But, still, the prospect of a beating and a night in the cells didn’t appeal to him. “Can’t you work any faster?”
“You want to try?” He offered Fedor the crowbar and cocked an eyebrow.
“No. It’s just—”
“It’s just nothing, mate. The quicker I can get these things out, the quicker we can do one.” He jammed the crowbar around the left eye socket, straining as he levered it back and forth. “I can do this.”
“It’s no good. You got any cutters?”
“Not here.”
“How about a saw?”
“Saw would be good. But, no.”
“Damn it.” Fedor tracked the constables as they strode towards him. “They’re headed this way.”
“Settle down.” Lev gestured to the square. “They’re not even looking around. They’re just walking and talking, mate. Probably not even on duty.”
“Right.” Fedor’s heart raced. His chest burned. Every part of him had to run, his instincts crying out for them to abandon the job.
“Yes!”
“You got it?” Fedor leant forward, ready to catch.
“No. But I think I felt something shift.”
“This is taking too long.” He started at the sound of flapping leather and spun to face a grey wyvern, its black eyes staring back at him. “Erm…thirty-three.”
“Mate. We’re not—” Lev fumbled his crowbar and shot to his feet. “Shit.” He charged past Fedor, shimmied towards the bottom of the roof, and slid down the drainpipe.
Fedor went next, a bolt of pain streaking up his feet and legs as he landed.
Lev let out something like a bird call, letting the others know they had abandoned the job, and led the gang back towards the lower city.
The crew reconvened when they crossed the Kusten Road. The priests had told Fedor the ancient road was built during the early days of the Ostreich Empire and cut a straight line along to the eastern coastline, stretching from Gottsisle to the north, to Wiete’s capital Welttor to the south.
During the day, carts and taxis crowded the road, but at night it stood silent, no doubt all in fear of thieves and bandits lying in ambush between Nordturm and Hafendorf.
Fedor followed the slope down to Lower Nordturm’s entrance. Wide enough for two people, its stone maw was smoothed by wind and time. The oldest part of the city stood beneath the looming Great Tower, the city’s interior carved from the cliff overlooking the Braun Sea.
Some say the city was carved from stone by Wiete’s earliest settlers, or shaped by Creation herself. Others believe it was once a great nest for hundreds of wyverns in the days when the creatures were as broad as ships and enslaved humanity.
Fedor was never sure where the truth lay, and if he was being honest, it didn’t matter. He had a roof over his head and a bed he could call his own, which was more than could be said for the countless street kids and beggars that made their homes around the city.
The maze of caves, canals and tunnels had been Fedor’s home since he’d been brought there as a young child to live with the priests of Creation.
Constables eyed them when they stepped inside. The familiar smells of damp stone and sulphur mingled with the ever-changing aromas drifting from docked ships.
Fedor’s skin prickled at the rising temperature as they passed through the hive of tunnels.
The others didn’t speak as they passed through the docks, its cavernous roof enclosing scores of moored ships.
Wind howled in through the sea gate, the giant portcullis structure catching light from alchemical globes hanging from the rocky ceiling.
Fedor followed a path between empty crates and fishing nets and turned into the tunnels.
He traipsed along the canal, trying to ignore the haunted waters, dark and black and stinking.
Nothing lived beneath that surface, though many things died.
He glanced back over his shoulder, checking they hadn’t been followed, and stopped at the den’s entrance.
Lev stepped forward and rapped on the door in his usual rhythm.
Yorik and Onwyth huddled together, their breath like clouds. Yorik’s broad shoulders and thick arms reminded Fedor of an ice bear he had once seen fighting a man in the arena.
An eye appeared through a peephole and the door opened.
Fedor acknowledged the crew’s boss with a smile. Melita, tall and slender with long red hair and bright green eyes, returned the gesture. His gaze drifted to the gold coin hanging from her necklace as she held the door open.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“Had to call a thirty-three,” Lev said.
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow and gestured them inside. Yorik and Onwyth went on ahead.
“We were spotted. Had to be done.”
Her hand briefly clenched. “The watch?”
“Wyvern,” Fedor said.
Melita bolted the door and turned to Fedor. “Same one as before?”
“Yeah.”
Lev sighed. “You don’t know that, mate. It was dark.”
“It was the same one. I know it was.”
He followed Lev and Melita through the vestibule and along a winding tunnel to the common room.
No more than ten paces across, its walls curved into the ceiling. The glow from an alchemical tube cast crooked shadows along the rock.
A pair of sofas pressed against the opposite wall.
A gaming table stood to the door’s right.
Fedor flopped down onto the nearest sofa and forced a smile at the others. He hated returning from a job empty-handed.
Yorik leant back on the other sofa, his skin pale, his thick red beard a stark contrast to his thinning brown hair. “What happened?” He spoke in a clipped Molotok accent. “Why thirty-three?”
“I saw that wyvern again.”
Yorik folded his arms and leant back, his top lip curling. “Is not good.”
Fedor shrugged. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You keep seeing wyvern. How do you know it is same?”
“I just do.”
Onwyth sniffed and turned from her seat at the gaming table. She bore the dark tones of the Southern Isles and wore her ash-dyed saltlocks loose down her back. She held Fedor’s gaze. “How many times has that been now?”
Fedor glanced down at his hands and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“What does it want? It’s like every time we do a job, you keep seeing that…that thing.”
“It’s not every job.” His voice came out higher than he would have liked. “It’s just been a few lately.”
“It’s too many.” Onwyth scrunched her nose. “Don’t you just hate wyverns?”
“I don’t know why it keeps following us.” Fedor blinked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. “But what can we do? It just appears from nowhere.”
“You should turn the tables.” Onwyth leant forward, her right hand closing into a fist. “You should go after it. Let the hunter become the hunted. I bet you could get a pistol or a harpoon, and then next time you see it, you could shoot it, and then you won’t have any excuse to call thirty-threes all the time. You’d probably even get a few coin for a wyvern skin.”
Fedor glared at her. “I’m a thief, not a killer.”
“Wyverns aren’t people.” She waved a hand. “You’d kill a rat, wouldn’t you?”
“Not really.”
“I would.” She grinned. “I love killing rats. I see them all the time by the canal.” She gestured towards the den’s entrance. “If you grab one of the big ones by the tail, you can smash it against a wall. It makes a great noise. Bit like a squashy kind of thud.”
“I think rats are a bit different to wyverns.”
“They’re basically just flying rats.”
“With scales,” Fedor said.
“More like flying bats, then.”
“Bats can already fly.”
A deep crease set along Onwyth’s brow. “All I know is that they’re horrible slimy creatures that fly around costing us coin.”
“I don’t think they’re slimy.”
“They’re scaled. Scales are slimy.”
Fedor shook his head. “I don’t think they are.”
“Who cares? You’re missing my point. All I’m saying is that doing a wyvern in is no different to playing splat-the-rat.”
Fedor’s eyes widened. “You’ve got a name for it?”
Onwyth sniffed. “Tell me how it’s any different?”
“They’re sentient creatures.” Fedor shrugged and met Lev’s gaze, hoping he’d speak up. “They, erm…they think and feel.”
“How would you know?”
“They talk for one thing.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Parrots talk.”
“Parrots parrot.”
She gave him a confused look. “Huh?”
“They don’t really talk, do they?”
“I heard a parrot the other day at the docks. It kept swearing and begging for crackers.” She jabbed a forefinger down on the table. “That’s talking.”
“It’s not though, is it?” Fedor tried not to sigh. “Parrots just copy whatever they’ve been taught. Wyverns are just like people.”
Onwyth snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, slimy reptile people, maybe. How many people have you seen with wings?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“They’re no better than rats. They’re getting in the way of our jobs. I say you get yourself a sack and a club and take that thing out once and for all.”
Fedor sighed. “I repeat, I’m not a killer.”
“Perhaps you trap it in net,” Yorik said. “Not kill it, but give it beating.”
“Or smash its wings.” Onwyth jumped to her feet. “Or snap its legs.”
Fedor shook his head. “I’m not going to do that.”
Lev grinned and drummed a rhythm on the sofa’s arm. “You know he’d only find something else to blame if he did.”
“Yeah.” Onwyth pointed at him. “Oh, no. There’s a rat. Thirty-three. Thirty-three. I don’t like how that parrot’s looking at me. Thirty-three.”
Fedor huffed and folded his arms. “That’s not fair.”
“Whatever.” Lev removed his cap and pursed his lips. “You’ve got to take risks in this line of work, mate. It’s almost like I didn’t teach you shit.”
“There’s risks and then there’s risks. I’m not taking unnecessary ones. They’re unnecessary for a reason.”
“Risk nothing and you risk everything, mate.”
Fedor glared at him. “You were down that drainpipe before I’d even had chance to move.”
“Yeah.” Lev raised a finger. “But only because you called a thirty-three.”
Yorik raked a hand down his beard. “And it was necessary call, huh?”
Melita cleared her throat from the doorway and raised her chin. “If he called a thirty-three, he called a thirty-three.” She narrowed her eyes at Yorik. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, boss. I just—”
“That’s the beginning and end of the discussion.” She stepped into the common room and sat on the sofa to Fedor’s left. “If we don’t keep that as a sacred part of our code, then we may as well walk away.”
“I agree.” Yorik’s head rocked from side to side. “But there are other things to consider—”
“No. There aren’t.” She held Yorik’s gaze. “We need to trust each other’s judgement.”
Yorik’s neck stiffened. “Fedor should toughen up. He calls most thirty-threes.”
Fedor’s mouth dropped open. “That’s only because I’m usually Lev’s second.”
“That’s enough.” Melita glared at Yorik and Fedor before relaxing into an easy smile and turning to Lev. “What did we learn from the job?”
“There’s two ravenglass orbs up there, each as big as a fist.”
“So, they’re real?”
“Yeah.”
“What went wrong?”
“Apart from the wyvern?”
She gave a slight nod.
“I don’t know.” Lev shrugged one shoulder. “That was it, really. Wyvern scuppered our game…again.”
“Tools,” Fedor said. “We need something better to cut the eyes out.”
“What did you use?”
“Crowbar,” Lev said
“To prise wrought iron?”
His gaze dropped. “Yeah.”
“And you thought that would work?”
“I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe.”
“On wrought iron?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. We need something better.”
Melita rose to her feet. “Good idea. I suggest you get another plan together—a better one—and try again tomorrow.”
Lev frowned. “Tomorrow?”
“You got something better on?”
“No. But—”
“We need the coin.”
Lev dipped his head. “Right, boss.”
“Good.” She strode from the common room.
Onwyth and Yorik followed, closing the door behind them.
Lev let out a long sigh.
“What’s up?” Fedor asked.
“I’m just sick of these shitty jobs.”
“Two ravenglass orbs. I’d say that’s at least, what, five hundred krones?”
“What’s that halved and split between five? We need something bigger, mate. Much bigger.” He banged his head back against the sofa. “How long we been doing this?”
Fedor shrugged. “Dunno. Four years, maybe.”
“And where we at?” His fists curled tight.
“We’ve got a lot more than some out there.”
“All I’ve got to my name is what’s in my purse. How are we supposed to get out of this shit-hole if we keep doing small-time jobs?” He ran a hand back through his hair. “Every time one of us calls a thirty-three, it’s like everything gets shoved back another day. I’m just sick of it, mate.”
“So, what? We get caught by the watch? I don’t know about you, but I’m not really interested in the mines or the gibbet.”
“That’s not what I mean. I just think…I just think we deserve better.”
“It’s alright here. At least we’ve got a roof over our heads. We never go hungry.”
“That’s just surviving, mate. I don’t know about you, but I want more.”