Princess Wanda was the third child of the legendary King Krakus, under whose reign the Wawel dragon was was defeated and the Polish city of Krakow was founded.
The tale of Queen Wanda begins with a familial tragedy that saw her rise to prominence after the downfall of her brothers. When her eldest brother, Lech, was slain and her middle brother Krakus II was exiled, there was a vacancy in the succession to the thrown. Even though Wanda was a girl, she was the last remaining child of King Krakus and so she became the heir apparent. When her father passed away, Wanda was crowned queen, stepping into a role that was seldom filled by women in that era.
Defiance and Dignity
Queen Wanda was renowned not only for her striking beauty but also for her sharp intellect and formidable wisdom. Her rule came at a time when surrounding kingdoms were steeped in misogyny, doubting a woman’s capability to govern with competence. Wanda’s reign was continually scrutinized by those who believed her throne was an opportunity for conquest through marriage.
Determined to safeguard her autonomy and the independence of her realm, Wanda rejected every suitor who sought her hand, viewing their proposals as veiled attempts to usurp her power. This string of refusals culminated in a significant conflict when one scorned suitor took her rejection as a personal affront. Humiliated, he vowed to conquer her kingdom and claim her crown by force.
Victory on the Battlefield
The tyrant amassed a formidable army and marched toward Krakow, intent on overthrowing Wanda. Undeterred, Queen Wanda donned her armor and led her own troops to meet the invasion. Legends recount how her presence on the battlefield, both regal and resolute, caused many of the enemy soldiers to hesitate, struck by her bravery and allure. Moved by her courage and the just cause she represented, several laid down their arms, unwilling to fight against such a monarch. Overwhelmed by the collapse of his forces and consumed by his disgrace, the invading prince took his own life.
A Legacy of Peace and Prosperity
Following this decisive victory, Queen Wanda continued to rule her kingdom with a focus on justice and wisdom. Her reign is marked by a period of prolonged peace and prosperity, during which she never married nor bore children, earning the epithet of the “virgin queen.” Her leadership style, characterized by fairness and foresight, won her the adoration of her subjects and ensured her place as a pivotal figure in Slavic folklore.
Eternal Rest and Remembrance
Queen Wanda’s death marked the end of an era, but her legacy was immortalized by the construction of the Wanda Mound on the outskirts of Krakow. This large burial mound, a tribute to her life and reign, remains a symbol of her enduring influence and the respect she commanded.
Today, Queen Wanda’s story is celebrated as a testament to the power of leadership that transcends gender barriers and as a narrative of independence that resonates through the ages. Her life serves as an inspiring reminder of the strength of character and the pursuit of sovereignty, echoing through the corridors of time as a beacon for future generations.
If you liked this story about Queen Wanda, you might also like to read about the legendary dragon of Krakow. You can find more stories like this in my “Slavic Spirits” blog series. Consider subscribing to my free Reader’s Club newsletter to get monthly updates on new blog posts, book reviews, and my works in progress.
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This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.
Although I have a lot of experience knitting, I still make mistakes all the time.
Every garment I have ever knitted has included at least one mistake. Some of them are minor enough to ignore and some are major enough that they need to be ripped out and redone. But in the choose-your-own adventure game of knitting, learning to embrace these mistakes is part of the fun.
My mom said that one of the best sweaters she ever knitted involved turning a mistake into a feature.
She was three quarters of the way through the torso of a bottom-up sweater when she realized she wasn’t going to have enough yarn to finish it. With strategic planning, she added widening stripes in a second color and between the two colors, she had just enough yarn to finish the sweater. Problem solved! She said she used to get compliments on that sweater all the time.
Every sweater I’ve ever made has been a learning opportunity.
In elementary school, I made myself a cowl-neck pink sweater, only to discover that I hated the way the Pepto Bismol pink yarn looked on me. No more pink sweaters for me!
In college, I knitted a “Charlie Brown” sweater out of yellow yarn and black for the zig-zags. I didn’t know how to carry my floats across the big changes of color, so what I ended up doing was knitting the sweater in yellow and then using a tapestry needle to embroider the black stripes as a second layer of needle-point. I later sold this sweater and the young woman who bought it was so thrilled she put it on immediately after purchasing it, even though it was 90 degrees outside. (My only regret is that I wish I had taken a picture of it before I sold it.)
In college, I knitted my first Aran cable sweater. I made the design and pattern myself using graph paper and multiple swatches. This sweater took me nine months. I am so proud of this sweater. It is definitely a flex item that I whip out to show people — “See! I can knit!”—even during the years when I didn’t knit.
But even with this personal masterpiece, you can see a mistake where I forgot to cross one of the cables. I didn’t notice it until several inches past the mistake. At that point, I had a decision to make: I could either unravel several days-worth of work, or I could just accept the imperfection and move on. That’s what I did. Now, with the help of YouTube, I know how to fix this type of mistake by only unraveling a small portion, and not the entire sweater.
One of my favorite sweaters is this blue raglan zip-up cardigan I made for my husband. I love everything about it: the colors, the fit, the style. I got the free pattern on Knitty. With this sweater, I learned about using smaller needles for the ribbing, and how to knit a double-layered hem and stand-up collar. It fits my husband perfectly.
He even has even worn it to the office. “Ooh, somebody loves you!” the office matrons would exclaim. Out of all the sweaters I made, this is the closest I’ve come to perfect execution. But even here, I can’t help but notice my sloppy finishing—how I didn’t choose a matching color thread for the zipper, so my stitches are still visible. (Note: This sweater was immune from the Sweater Curse because I made it after we were already engaged.)
Around this same time, I also knitted a red sweater for my brother. It was also a raglan-sleeve cardigan with a front zipper, and it had a beautiful eyelet design on the sleeves. Unfortunately, I did not wash both the sweater and the zipper before I sewed the zipper in. The first time the cardigan got washed, the cotton yarn of the sweater stretched out and the zipper remained the same, so the whole front of the sweater looked puckered and bunchy. The zipper had to be ripped out, and I never got around to sewing it back in, so now it’s a loose cardigan. Nevertheless, my brother still has the sweater, and he still wears it once in a while, even though it’s been fifteen years since I gave him that sweater.
The green wool sweater I made for my husband for our first anniversary was a lesson on why it is so important to a) ensure your gauge is correct before you begin casting on, and b) try things on as you progress. I bought eight skeins of premium hunter-green wool. In my enthusiasm as a newly married woman, I didn’t bother with making a gauge and instead cast on the recommended stitches in the pattern. I knit it in the round, and the proportions looked right to me sitting on my lap. What could go wrong?
What I should’ve done is stop at the bottom 4 inches, put it on waste yarn, and have my husband try it on. At that point, I would’ve seen my error. But that’s not what I did. I didn’t stop to check the measurements until after the sweater was already completed and sewn together. And then… oh no! The gauge was totally off.
My husband has the physique of a tall viking. He is six foot three and weighs 200 pounds. He fills a doorway. He is tall enough to reach up and touch the ceiling in most rooms. But even this sweater looks like it was made for a man four times his size. The sleeves hang down to his knees. It pools around him like a wizard’s robe. Who did I make this for? The Jolly Green Giant?
My sweet husband—the darling man!—still adores this sweater. This is his cozy-oversized comfort sweater. This is what he puts on in winter (with the cuffs rolled multiple times) as we all cuddle on the couch as a family to watch a movie.
For years, I would look at the sweater and the perfectionist knitter part of my brain sometimes thinks about unraveling it and trying again. But then I look at my husband’s face… how happy he is, and how loved he feels every time he puts on this sweater. And I know I will never unravel this sweater. My husband loves this sweater just as he loves me: flaws and all.
That being said, writing this blog post inspired me to give it another go. With the experience I’ve gained since knitting my husband his oversized sweater, I realized I only need to unravel the sleeves just a little to shorten them. With my husband’s permission, I shortened the sweater sleeves and sewed them back on. It only took me about 20 minutes, and now the sweater fits him perfectly. This goes to show that even after 15 years of marriage, it’s never too late to make adjustments if you’re willing to put in the effort.
The year of The Big Green Sweater, I used the leftover green yarn to knit my mother a shawl-neck pullover. It was a Debbie Bliss pattern that I absolutely loved. (I love her patterns.) But this particular pattern came with a slight flaw where the capping on the set-in sleeves is a little too long and the result is that when you sew it all together it kind of looks like it has puffed sleeves… or like it needs some rad 1980s shoulder pads. As soon as she put it on, I could see immediately that it wasn’t quite right.
Like a good mother, she oohed and aahed over the sweater. She even fixed it somewhat by using a needle and thread to sew a tuck into the shoulder to hide the extra fabric.
But the twist came ten years later, when she gave me a Christmas shawl made from…. “Oh my god! Is that my green sweater?!”
I couldn’t believe it. She had unraveled my green wool sweater, turned it into a poncho, and re-gifted it back to me. Such is the danger of giving a knitted gift to another knitter: they see everything as potential material. Nothing is sacred.
In her defense, she did keep my ill-fitting sweater for a whole decade before giving it a new life. That’s a lot longer than most people keep their garments!
By the way—I love this poncho. Every time I put it on, I think of my mother and how every inch of this beautiful green yarn slid through both our fingers.
(Note: I’ve also written about this in my blog post “Gift or Burden: The Truth of the Sweater Curse.”)
This striped fisherman’s wool sweater is my second attempt at the same pattern as my mother’s botched green sweater. Only this time, I made sure to alter the shoulder pattern so that it would fit better.
I started this sweater when I was in graduate school in 2013. I knit the front and back and one of the sleeves.
Then I got pregnant and the project went into a paper Trader Joe’s bag in the closet for seven years. It wasn’t until the world shut down in 2020 that I took the sweater out of the closet and finally finished that second sleeve, the shawl-collar, and sewed it all together.
During the years between starting the project and finishing it, my body had expanded to grow a human, and then shrunk back down to my pre-pregnancy size. The world had changed. Everything had changed. But even in this new world, it felt like a kind of miracle that a project I had started almost a decade before could finally come to completion. That it could be so warm and fit me so perfectly.
During the years when my son was little, I took a long break from knitting. It was energy triage. The entirety of my focus was dedicated toward helping this tiny, wonderful being grow. Whatever was left over went to marriage, family, writing, and basic hygiene. I didn’t even have time for hair—I wore it short for years because I didn’t want to deal with it touching my face. Who cares about knitting? Not this gal!
I was so certain I would never knit again that I gave away all my yarn and needles.
But the time arrived when I felt ready to take up the needles again. It had been a while, so I needed an easy project. I borrowed some of my mom’s needles and bought a Pound of Love acrylic yarn at the local Michael’s. I knitted a gauge and then a raglan pullover for my son. I had forgotten how to knit raglan sleeves in the round, and I had to rip out the yoke four whole times before I finally got it right. I also did a sloppy job sewing in the kangaroo pockets, so the stitches are a bit visible.
But my son loves this sweater. He wears it all the time, so I quickly knit him a few more sweaters so that he can change between them. At the moment, these mom-made sweaters are all he wants to wear. As soon as they are out of the wash, he puts them on. He says he can feel my love when he wears them, like a big soft hug.
Now my son is giving me commissions.
Can I knit a sweater with stripes? Absolutely!
Can I knit a sweater for our dog? Sure!
Can I make a bear hat with ears? I’ve never knitted a hat before, but I’ll try!
I combined patterns from the Brock Cap and the ears from the Polarynn Bear set by the Velvet Acorn and switched up the gauge to make the hat.
This “Love” cable vest designed by Kate Chioccio took about two months to make because I kept getting the gauge wrong. I was using worsted weight yarn instead of DK yarn, so I basically had to rewrite the pattern to make it work. It still took three tries.
With this knitted shirt made from bamboo rayon, I knitted a gauge swatch and was surprised by how much it stretched after watching. I had to learn a new way of joining new balls of yarn because my usual way would leave visible scars on the front.
This shirt was originally intended for my son, but by the time I finished, we discovered that the garter stitch around the neckline and hem basically looked like ruffles, and was too feminine for him. He gave the shirt to me.
This is another project I made recently from bamboo yarn. It is a cowl using the tumbling blocks stitch. I’m very happy with how the pattern turned out, but I did not expect the bamboo yarn to stretch as much as it did! After washing and blocking, the cowl ended up one third wider than I originally intended.
I suppose what I’m saying is that making mistakes is all part of the adventure.
This is a hobby, after all. Not a job. No lives are at stake. It’s only string. I have never (that I recall) gotten so frustrated at a project that I broke into tears. I only shrug and move on. Chalk it up as a learning experience.
And I still have so much to learn!
Every time I look on YouTube or Etsy or Ravelry I see something new and inspiring I’d love to try. I have never knitted socks or mittens. I’ve never made a Fair Isle or Norwegian sweater. I’ve never done lace, or brioche, or intarsia. When did short rows become a thing? Why didn’t I learn about Magic Loop or knitting from the top-down sooner? It would have made my life so much easier!
I absolutely love how much the knitting community has grown during the past few years. It’s easier than ever to learn something new and meet new people.
When I look at these projects, I often remember where I was when I worked on them.
The car trip to the Mendocino coast that I took with my mom and son, when I started this sweater.
Sitting in my father-in-law’s garden knitting, while my husband and son swam in the pool.
Cuddling on the couch next to my son while he reads me his favorite comic book.
The apartment my husband and I first shared in Virginia.
The snow-bound cabin in the woods where my husband and I spent a winter early in our marriage.
When I look at these pieces I made, the tactile sensation of these memories are anchored into my body. Perhaps those memories are also anchored into the stitches. And so when I look at the little errors in my knitting, I don’t feel angry with myself or frustrated. I feel forgiveness and compassion for myself. They are part of the story. My story with my family. And I love them, flaws and all.
Helene Wecker’s “The Golem and the Jinni” duology is a masterful blend of historical fiction and magical realism, set against the backdrop of 1899 New York City. This series beautifully narrates the unlikely friendship between two mythical beings from disparate cultures, exploring themes of identity, belonging, and the immigrant experience.
Series Overview:
The series begins with “The Golem and the Jinni,” where we meet Chava, a Golem created by a rabbi who dies during their ocean voyage to America. Left masterless, Chava finds herself navigating the complexities of human society in New York with the innate ability to sense the desires and emotions of the people around her. Simultaneously, a Jinni named Ahmad is released from a thousand-year imprisonment in a flask by a tinsmith in Little Syria, on the other side of the city. Unlike Chava, Ahmad is fiery and impulsive, bound only by the iron cuff that restricts his true powers.
As these two supernatural beings cross paths, their contrasting natures lead to a deep, reflective friendship. Through their nocturnal explorations of the city, Chava and Ahmad share their experiences as immigrants and magical entities trying to find their place in a bustling human world.
Plot Details and Character Development:
In the first book, “The Golem and the Jinni,” the narrative weaves through the streets of turn-of-the-century New York, from the Jewish quarters of the Lower East Side to the coffeehouses of Little Syria. The intricate details of these neighborhoods enrich the story, providing a vivid setting for the characters’ journeys. Chava’s struggle with her nature as a Golem programmed to obey and Ahmad’s fiery desire for freedom and past memories make for compelling contrasts.
The sequel, “The Hidden Palace,” continues their story, deepening their interactions with new characters and each other as they face challenges that test their abilities and ethical boundaries. The narrative expands to include the machinations of a dark sorcerer, introducing new layers to the folklore and history interwoven through the series.
Themes and Impact:
Wecker’s duology is lauded for its thoughtful portrayal of the immigrant experience through the lens of folklore. The characters’ struggles with freedom, control, and cultural displacement resonate with the broader history of American immigrants. Additionally, the friendship between Chava and Ahmad offers a poignant exploration of how opposites can find common ground through mutual respect and shared circumstances.
The series also delves into themes of love, danger, and the moral complexities of using one’s powers verses the safety of integration, making it a rich tapestry of genre-blending narrative that appeals to fans of fantasy, history, and culturally rich tales.
Conclusion:
“The Golem and the Jinni” duology is not just a fantasy series; it’s a profound exploration of what it means to be different and yet so deeply interconnected. Wecker’s ability to mesh cultural folklore with the American immigrant narrative creates a compelling saga that is both enchanting and thought-provoking. For those enchanted by narratives that combine magical elements with historical settings, Helene Wecker’s series offers a beautiful, intricate look at life through the eyes of its mystical protagonists.
If you enjoy stories that blend folklore with real historical contexts, this duology promises to captivate and inspire. Dive into this magical recreation of New York City and discover the rich tapestry of stories that await.
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This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.
Nestled on the banks of the Vistula River, the grand Wawel Castle in Krakow is not just a symbol of Poland’s royal heritage but also the setting of one of its most beloved legends: the tale of the Wawel Dragon. This story, rich with adventure, ingenuity, and intrigue, has been passed down through generations, each retelling adding layers to its mythic stature.
The Dragon’s Terror
Long ago, when King Krakus founded his majestic castle atop Wawel Mountain, he envisioned a stronghold of peace and prosperity. However, beneath the castle lurked a fearsome dragon that soon began terrorizing Krakus’s subjects. With its fiery breath and immense size, the dragon was a constant threat, devouring livestock and spreading fear among the villagers.
Determined to protect his kingdom, King Krakus turned to his three children for a solution. Lech, the eldest and heir to the throne, along with his younger brother Krakus Junior and their wise sister Wanda, were tasked with devising a plan to rid their land of the beast.
A Cobbler’s Cunning Plan
While the princes attempted various strategies, none succeeded until Skuba, a humble cobbler’s apprentice, proposed a clever ruse. Skuba had observed the dragon’s preference for sheep and cattle. He suggested that they could exploit this appetite by tricking the dragon into consuming a fatal meal. The plan was to kill several sheep and stuff their carcasses with sulfurous rocks, known for their intense heat when ingested.
The two princes implemented Skuba’s idea, placing the deceptive feast at the entrance to the dragon’s lair, located at the base of Wawel Castle. Unable to resist, the dragon devoured the prepared sheep and soon after felt an unbearable thirst due to the fiery rocks within its belly.
The Dragon’s Demise
Driven by its thirst, the dragon staggered to the Vistula River and began to drink. It drank voraciously, but the combination of sulfurous stones and the excessive amount of water caused its belly to swell dangerously. Overwhelmed by the agony, the dragon ultimately fell into the river and drowned, ending its reign of terror.
Betrayal and Justice
The kingdom rejoiced, but the victory was soon overshadowed by treachery. In a dark twist, Krakus Junior, envious of his brother Lech’s success and status as heir, murdered him in a bid to claim sole credit for slaying the dragon and to ascend to the throne himself. However, unbeknownst to Krakus Junior, his actions were witnessed by Princess Wanda and Skuba, who had concealed themselves nearby.
Armed with the truth, they exposed Krakus Junior’s heinous act. The wicked prince was exiled for his crimes, and in a turn of just fate, Wanda was proclaimed the heir. Her wisdom and courage had shone through the ordeal, proving her worthiness to lead.
Legacy of the Wawel Dragon
Today, the legend of the Wawel Dragon remains a pivotal part of Krakow’s lore. It symbolizes the triumph of cleverness and virtue over brute strength and malice. At the foot of Wawel Castle, a statue of the dragon breathes real fire, a reminder of the enduring power of myth in the hearts of the Polish people. This tale, with its dramatic elements of heroism, conspiracy, and redemption, continues to be celebrated, reflecting the rich tapestry of Slavic storytelling and the cultural values that cherish ingenuity and justice.
If you enjoy learning about Slavic folklore, consider subscribing to my Reader’s Club newsletter. This free newsletter arrives at your inbox every month and it contains updates to my Slavic Spirits blog series, fantasy book reviews, and updates on my works in progress.
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This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.
Within Slavic fairy tales and folklore, wolves and werewolves occupy a complex and fascinating space, blurring the lines between humanity and the wild. Unlike the singular, often romanticized portrayal of werewolves in Western culture, Slavic lore present a more varied and nuanced depiction of these shape-shifting beings as metaphors for madness and wildness.
Two Types of Slavic Werewolves
Human to Werewolf Transformations
In Slavic folklore, certain humans transform into werewolves either through a curse, magical intervention, or by consuming wolf meat. This transformation is often associated with a loss of humanity and an onset of temporary insanity and extreme violence. These werewolves are typically depicted as outcasts or hermits, those who have severed ties with society either by choice or circumstance, such as due to mental illness, trauma, or antisocial behavior.
This transformation can be solitary or affect groups, such as in celebratory gatherings like weddings where excessive drinking might unleash primal, uncontrollable behaviors akin to those of a wild beast. In some tales, individuals don the skin of a wolf and roam the forests, embodying the animal’s characteristics and instincts. This act of wearing a wolf’s skin symbolizes a complete departure from human society and a reversion to a more primal state.
Wolf to Human Transformations:
Conversely, some magical wolves in Slavic folklore possess the ability to transform into humans. These stories often highlight the revered characteristics of wolves, such as fearlessness and cunning, which are celebrated and feared in equal measure. The transformation of a wolf into a human can symbolize the infiltration of wild, untamed forces into human society, blurring the lines between the civilized world and the wild unknown.
Often in these fairy tales, it is a female wolf who has transformed into a human in order to marry a human or to raise her cubs (who can also transform into humans) near civilization.
Wolves in Slavic Lore
The She-Wolf: A recurring figure in many fairy tales, the she-wolf embodies wildness and fierce maternal protection. This archetype resonates with stories from other cultures, such as the Roman tale of Romulus and Remus. In regions like Chechnya and Georgia, known historically as the “Land of the Wolves,” wolves are revered as ancestors and national symbols, reflecting a deep cultural link with these formidable creatures.
The Iron Wolf: In a legendary account from Lithuanian history, the Grand Duke Gediminas dreamt of an iron wolf howling on a hill, which he interpreted as a divine sign to found the city of Vilnius. This story ties the wolf to the foundational myths of a nation, underscoring its importance as a symbol of destiny and conquest.
The White Wolf and the Gray Wolf: Often featured in Slavic fairy tales, these wolves can appear as both villains and allies. Their dual portrayal reflects the complex relationship between humans and nature, where the wolf can be both a noble creature and a fearsome enemy, depending on the narrative context.
Cultural Significance
The dual nature of werewolves in Slavic folklore—ranging from cursed humans to revered wolves—illustrates a broader cultural meditation on the boundaries between human and animal, civilization and the wild. These stories serve as cautionary tales and moral lessons about the consequences of isolation, the dangers of unbridled nature, and the deep, sometimes dark connections humans share with the animal kingdom.
In Slavic mythology, werewolves are not merely monsters but are neighbors who deserve respect for the important role they play in the natural world.
If you liked this blog post, consider checking out the rest of my Slavic Spirits series, or signing up for my free Reader’s Club newsletter. Newsletter subscribers get monthly-ish emails with updates in the Slavic Spirits series, book reviews of fantasy books, and updates on my works in progress.
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This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.
Rachel Gillig’s “The Shepherd King” duology is an innovative dark fantasy romance series set in a world where magic and madness tread a perilously thin line. With “One Dark Window” and its sequel “Two Twisted Crowns,” Gillig introduces readers to a unique magical system centered around tarot cards that bestow powers at a high personal cost.
Series Overview:
In Gillig’s dark and lush narrative, the magical tarot cards are not mere tools for divination but potent artifacts granting abilities that can alter the course of human fate—be it through beauty, invisibility, or compulsion. However, these gifts come with grave consequences, diminishing the user’s sanity, empathy, or soul with each use. The series is set against the backdrop of a kingdom shrouded in a mysterious mist, governed by a deity that lures people to madness and a monarchy bent on destroying those tainted with magical afflictions.
The story unfolds with Elspeth, a survivor of the mist’s deadly disease, which left her with the uncanny ability to sense these magical cards. Her life takes a dramatic turn when she accidentally awakens a devil from one of the cards, who then begins to share her mind. Discovered by Ravyn, a guard duty-bound to execute her but secretly part of an order aiming to overthrow the tyrannical king, Elspeth joins the quest to unite all the magical cards. The narrative weaves through their tumultuous alliance, marked by the looming threat of Elspeth’s potential descent into madness.
In the gripping sequel, Elspeth finds herself captive, with the magical deck nearly complete except for one elusive card. The final piece of their puzzle involves not only unlocking the last card but also unraveling a curse and the hidden history of their kingdom. The stakes are higher as they edge closer to revolution, with the past and present colliding in unexpected ways.
Personal Take:
What truly sets the “The Shepherd King” series apart is its innovative use of tarot cards as a mechanism for magic—each card’s ability beautifully interwoven with its traditional symbolic meanings yet reimagined into a tangible power within the story’s universe. This creative magic system, coupled with the high stakes of using such powers, adds a compelling layer to the narrative.
The inclusion of characters like Elspeth and Ravyn, each deeply affected by the world’s inherent dangers and the brutal policies of their rulers, enriches the story. Their development from wary allies to co-conspirators against a common enemy encapsulates a thrilling blend of fantasy and romance suited for a New Adult audience, given its mature themes of violence and sexuality.
“The Shepherd King” duology by Rachel Gillig is a standout series for those intrigued by dark fantasy woven with intricate magic systems and complex character dynamics. Its blend of romance, adventure, and moral dilemmas framed within a beautifully crafted magical world makes it a compelling read.
For readers who revel in stories where magic is both a gift and a curse, and where love struggles to shine through the darkness of political intrigue and personal sacrifice, Rachel Gillig’s duology promises to be an unforgettable journey.
Consider subscribing to my free Reader’s Club newsletter for more young adult fantasy reviews, updates on my Slavic Spirits series, and insights into my writing journey. Join us as we explore realms where magic cards dictate fate and characters strive to change their world.
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UPDATE — This blog post includes text and images generated with the assistance of OpenAI’s models. I provided detailed prompts, curated the outputs, and made edits, but the majority of the content was created with AI assistance. This disclosure aligns with my commitment to transparency under the EU AI Act. Disclosure added on November 18, 2024 to align with transparency requirements under the EU AI Act.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Portions of this content were generated using OpenAI’s models, with significant curation, editing, and creative input by E. S. O. Martin. AI-generated portions may not be subject to copyright under current laws.
