The Black Throne

The Black ThroneJoseph, a young elf who struggles with magic, abandons the life he knew. Discovering his talent with a blade, he seeks the one who turned his peaceful days into nightmares. Revenge drives him, yet it can only get him so far. And so far is so short when he is treated as a pawn in someone else's game. Ida became a royal at sixteen, after her grandmother's death. As a royal guard, she excels; none of her peers can pose enough of a challenge to make her

Joseph, a young elf who struggles with magic, abandons the life he knew. Discovering his talent with a blade, he seeks the one who turned his peaceful days into nightmares. Revenge drives him, yet it can only get him so far. And so far is so short when he is treated as a pawn in someone else's game.

Ida became a royal at sixteen, after her grandmother's death. As a royal guard, she excels; none of her peers can pose enough of a challenge to make her sweat. Boredom has become a curse, but when an opportunity lands in her lap-an opportunity for more-will she grab it?

Magnus is the King of Alucard's Region, one of the twelve rulers of Vinyamar. He strives to please his people and fix the reputation his late father left behind. Mask ripped from the perfect monarch he portrayed himself to be, Magnus must sacrifice for the whole of his region while allowing himself to feel long-repressed emotions.

Malice, thought to have died two years ago alongside his kingdom, returns. His plans and motives are obscured, hidden carefully underneath the accumulating mountain of corpses. One aspect is clear: no one is safe from the game board or the game masters greed.

The Black Throne is the first book of an adult fantasy trilogy. Following multiple POVs, we walk the path of greed, revenge, sacrifice, darkness, and love. Elemental magic can bite its wielder, yet is so detrimental to one's life, a double-edged sword. From fairies to giants, from demons to angels, and from beastmen to barbarians, there are more than elves and humans in this story. The gods are wrathful, their vestiges thirsty for blood, and the devil, oh the devil, embraces the chaos they rain down with the warmth of the sun.