Following a deadly attack on a druid grove, Queen Elia Kolenikova of the Ice Realm is the first and only monarch to take a stand against the fire priest order, a reclusive band of sorcerers with unlimited power. Determined to find a way to protect druids from further violence, Elia turns to the annals of history, tracing her knowledge of fire priests back to a time when a previous Ice Queen was intimately tied to the rise of the order. Thereâs just one problem: what Elia reads in those accounts may not be true.
To unravel the mystery, Elia needs more than an allyâshe needs a fire priest. An immortal Ice Realm prince whoâs been missing from the history books for centuries.
Syllian, like his father before him, sacrificed his mortal body to be born again in flames. Two thousand years later, heâs hunted at every turn by fire priests seeking revenge for his betrayal of the order. The threat means little until a rumor reaches him: Queen Elia Kolenikova is asking questions.
Emerging from the shadows could cost Syllian his life. But if he doesnât, the lies and propaganda of the fire priest order will cost Elia hers first.
Following a deadly attack on a druid grove, Queen Elia Kolenikova of the Ice Realm is the first and only monarch to take a stand against the fire priest order, a reclusive band of sorcerers with unlimited power. Determined to find a way to protect druids from further violence, Elia turns to the annals of history, tracing her knowledge of fire priests back to a time when a previous Ice Queen was intimately tied to the rise of the order. Thereâs just one problem: what Elia reads in those accounts may not be true.
To unravel the mystery, Elia needs more than an allyâshe needs a fire priest. An immortal Ice Realm prince whoâs been missing from the history books for centuries.
Syllian, like his father before him, sacrificed his mortal body to be born again in flames. Two thousand years later, heâs hunted at every turn by fire priests seeking revenge for his betrayal of the order. The threat means little until a rumor reaches him: Queen Elia Kolenikova is asking questions.
Emerging from the shadows could cost Syllian his life. But if he doesnât, the lies and propaganda of the fire priest order will cost Elia hers first.
Flames. Flames and painâexcruciating pain. Fire licked up his body, consuming his clothes, melting his flesh, searing his bones.Â
Casimir screamed. He screamed for the release of death, screamed at gods who were dead, if they had ever lived at all. Flames swirled around his face and shredded his throat. Tears evaporated from lidless eyes. He hit the obsidian floor, his legs shattering beneath him. His chest split open like rotting fruit.
Why wasnât he dead?Â
Agony peaked. Fire devoured him. He could see nothing, feel nothing but flames. Flames and pain.
Aria, Casimir whimpered. Iâm doing this for Aria. Aria. Aria . . .
Cool wood. Calm. Silence.
Noâhis own screams still echoed in his ears. And there were whispers too; Casimir wasnât alone. He lay naked for a minute or an eternity, his eyes squeezed shut. Fire . . .
âHold him down,â a man said. âGet him robes.â
Hands grasped Casimir by the wrists and ankles. His breath came in little gasps.
âMy friend,â the man said, much closer to him now. âJoin us here.â
He opened his eyes. Languid black flames swirled above him in mesmerizing patterns. The ceiling was made of glass, but Casimir couldnât see the sky.
He jerked against his bonds. The man who had spoken leaned over him, his shoulder-length, molten-silver hair swinging forward. Eyes of deepest gold considered Casimir incisively.Â
âDo not fear the flames,â the man said. He had a grating accent foreign to the entire continent of Cerulis. âYou passed through them, my friend. You control them now. There is nothing to fear.â
The manâs expression was unfathomable, his age impossible to guess. Cool fawn skin betrayed his alien ancestry as clearly as his accent. He lifted his hand, and those who held Casimir released him.
âSit up,â the man said.Â
Casimir obeyed. His naked body had been splayed across a table that looked like the cross section of a massive tree. Smooth, glittering golden wood caressed his skin.
âRobes,â the man said, offering Casimir a soft bundle of clothing.Â
He pulled the robes over his head, then scrutinized the room. A dozen witnesses in identical tunics ringed the table. The walls and floor matched the ceiling, even down to the color of dancing flames within the glass. Floating orbs of light dimly illuminated the chamber.
When Casimirâs gaze finally returned to the stranger in front of him, the man smiled.
âMy name is Raskor,â he said. âI am Supreme Fire Priest to the fire priest council, and you have been reborn in Novis, our capital. I assume you intended this.â
Casimir could still recall the fire inside his throat. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
âNo matter,â Raskor said. âSome require time to recover from the ascension. You took an enormous leap of faith; no one could warn you of the pain. But we are grateful to you, my friend.â
âBecause youâve been trapped here,â Casimir rasped, forcing himself to speak.
Raskor inclined his head. âWe have. Is that why you are here?â
âPartially,â he said.
Raskor offered a hand to help Casimir stand from the golden slab of wood and steadied him when he swayed.
âWe have much to discuss,â Raskor said. âBut first, my friend: who are you?â
Casimir swallowed back the dryness in his throat, staring at the black flames beneath his feet, trapped in a prison of glass.
âMy name is Casimir Milanovik,â he said, meeting Raskorâs golden eyes once more. âConsort to Queen Aria Kolenikova of the Ice Realm.â
The corners of Raskorâs mouth upturned. âA king,â he said. âA mage kingâat least until you woke up here.â
Casimir nodded.
âYou have been reborn as a fire priest, mage king,â Raskor said. âHold out your arm.â
With the barest furrow of his brow, Casimir watched Raskor push back the right sleeve of his robes and run a single fingernail across the underside of his wrist, painlessly slicing open his skin.
âGood,â Raskor said as black blood poured from Casimirâs wrist, pooling onto the glass floor. He touched the injury again, and the cut knitted itself back up in an instant. âVery good.â
Casimir retracted his arm, rubbing his wrist. He scowled at the black blood on the floor.
âWhat a stroke of luck,â Raskor said, interlacing his long fingers in front of his chest. âIndeed, there is much to discuss. We have been sleeping for a long time.â He touched his fingers to his chin. âCome with me, King Casimir. There is no time to lose.â
When Queen Elia's insatiable desire to learn more about the fire priests and mages of her heritage crosses over into her duties to protect druid refugees, within her lands, she must turn to Syllian, an ancestral relation and one of the most powerful fire priests alive, to stop a genocide.
Legacy of Flame is a story that truly made me stop reading in chapter one, look up, and say "wow, this is special". Bapaye is a gifted storyteller; from the first page the characters and world are richly developed and easy to walk alongside through the story.
In this Epic Fantasy/Sorcery Fantasy tale, Bapaye weighs court intrigue with the true nature of what it means to live, to be human, to love, to cope with loss, and what makes family--both found family and blood-related family.
The story follows two timelines. The first is a historical account of Queen Elia's ancestors Queen Aria and King Casimir, a human and a mage-turned-fire-priest, as they strive to resolve a mage vs fire priest war. The second is the current-day account of Queen Elia, a descendant of a ward that Queen Aria adopted, and Queen Aria's now-immortal biological son, the fire priest Syllian.
As the story progresses, Queen Elia grows from a woman seeking her place in the world and studying her heritage for insight into protecting her people, to facing the immortal (and seemingly unkillable) fire priests that Syllian has been on the run from for centuries.
Elia must learn to accept another into her reserved heart, to be willing to let another lead her people, and to remain true to herself and her beliefs when everyone else tells her to back down and let the druids fend for themselves while minding her own business. In the process, can she help Syllian open his long-locked heart? Can Syllian learn to love and lose at the same time? Can Syllian forgive himself for his own demons?
Legacy of Flame is so beautifully written and immersive that I definitely give it a 4/5 'loved-it'. The only thing keeping this from being a 5-star read is the long info-dump backstory dialogue scenes that occasionally gave it a slower feel. This is a light-hearted feel with some definite dark topics shown and discussed.
With spies, political and romantic intrigue, mystical beings, and magic, Legacy of Flame captures and modernizes the best elements in the fantasy genre, and fantasy lovers will not be able to put this book down.
--Trigger Warnings: Graphic death/dismemberment shown, physical/mental abuse shown/discussed, death of a family member, war, mentions of genocide--