The fate of every life in Iaela is governed by a star. But if youâre Sevi, you live in a place where not even they can see: the Cut. Wrapping around the walls of a castle and running into the heart of a mountain, the labyrinthine, bioluminescent plant-lined tunnels of the Cut make the only home Sevi has ever known. Suffering from horrible nightmares and missing his memory, all that he understands about the outside world is that it brings death.
Luckily, he has his best friend Lilyâhis savior and protector against the castleâs denizens called the Fablings. Invaders from a neighboring land, the Fablings killed the castleâs previous occupants and would gladly do the same to Lily and Sevi should they be discovered.
But their seclusion comes to an abrupt end when a flying ship appears bearing a human prisoner with knowledge of the Cut. Escaping through its tunnels, he quickly returns with an army, separating Sevi and Lily in the ensuing battle. Alone and exposed, Sevi is faced with a choice: inherit the fate awaiting him or make one for himself.
(Entirely human-written over five years without the help of AI.)
The fate of every life in Iaela is governed by a star. But if youâre Sevi, you live in a place where not even they can see: the Cut. Wrapping around the walls of a castle and running into the heart of a mountain, the labyrinthine, bioluminescent plant-lined tunnels of the Cut make the only home Sevi has ever known. Suffering from horrible nightmares and missing his memory, all that he understands about the outside world is that it brings death.
Luckily, he has his best friend Lilyâhis savior and protector against the castleâs denizens called the Fablings. Invaders from a neighboring land, the Fablings killed the castleâs previous occupants and would gladly do the same to Lily and Sevi should they be discovered.
But their seclusion comes to an abrupt end when a flying ship appears bearing a human prisoner with knowledge of the Cut. Escaping through its tunnels, he quickly returns with an army, separating Sevi and Lily in the ensuing battle. Alone and exposed, Sevi is faced with a choice: inherit the fate awaiting him or make one for himself.
(Entirely human-written over five years without the help of AI.)
May my song pierce your slumber, my lady of silver, bearer of such lonely fate. May you hear and remember my sorrows and joys, for the night is short, and the hour is late.Â
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A grand, imposing castle stood before a wide courtyard, staring down at squads of drilling soldiers clad in green as they hurled lightning down the field to strike the mountainside. A spire rose from the ground at every corner of the structure, each with a pointed top and faded-blue tiles. They guarded its body like silent sentinels, with their eyes turned out to face the world, and all the dangers it might bring. Smaller, flat-topped towers trailed away from the walls to a lower shelf of rock on the mountainside, as though the castle had moved and left pieces of itself behind.
Within the castleâs bulk stood a tower taller than any otherâthe leader of the sentinels. The wind, borne of snowy mountaintops and eager to race down their slopes, buffeted its side, lending the monolith a voice to groan. It was a thing of contradictions: whimsical, but sober. Regal, but crude. Beautiful, but terrible. One had to know its purpose to understand.
Inset into the castleâs walls were magnificent windows of stained glass and shimmering metal. They glowed orange in the setting sunâs light, enhancing the structureâs facade and elevating its countenance. But even with such jewelry, it remained the face of an old, grumpy giant, sitting on its mountain and glaring down at the rest of the world, as if to say, âstay away!â The rest of the world mustâve heard because it was the only building to call the mountainside its home. All the other, smaller, less-imposing buildings contented themselves with the forests far below, hidden beneath the canopy and wrapping around to the other side of the mountain, fleeing the behemothâs stony gaze.Â
But the castle, its windows, its sentinels, and its tall, cynical tower were not the only observers of its strange, magical denizens. Above the gardens, shaded by all manner of dense foliage, was an outcrop of rock fondly named the Overlook. It was a place that begged not to be seen, to remain hidden; to stay a secret known only to the few lucky enough to find it and quiet enough to keep it. For what makes a secret a special, precious thing, is its silence.
It was here where two figures lounged on ragged blankets, stolen from the castle's soldiers at great risk to themselves. They were the secretâs only acolytes, and they devoted all their hearts and minds to keeping it that way. Nobody knew silence as well as they.Â
âWhat about that one?â asked the first.
âI call her, âLady Boil.ââ
âShe doesnât look that pimply to me. Far from it.â
âShe gets angry a lot,â the second figure explained. âAnd when she does her face gets red enough to boil water. Then she starts slapping people.â
The first speaker shook her head. âI donât know if Iâd call her that then. Maybe something like, âLady Doomâ instead, on account of how she hands out doom to everyone around her.â
âThatâs dumb.â
âDonât be jealous. It doesnât suit you.â
The shadows across the grounds grew longer as the sun sank behind the mountainâs ridge. A kind breeze blew over the cliffside as the evening bells rang out, banishing the dayâs heat. The flowers in the courtyard garden, normally vibrant enough to make any painter weep, had been robbed of their colors and replaced with a pervasive shade of gold. It was with great hope that the boy, the second of the two speakers, wished that he might walk among them one day.
Both he and his friend had their spyglasses to their faces, spying on the soldiers as they went about their business. The boy had collectively named them all Fablings, on account of the fantastical features each of them sported, with no two ever being exactly alike. They could have only been born from a story.Â
âIâll call her what I want,â he said, brushing his ratty brown-blond hair back from his face. It had never felt the bristles of a comb, and only rarely the edge of a knife. âMy name sounds much better than âlady doom.ââ
His companionâthe elder of the two by several yearsâsighed, and readjusted the blanket over her head. âIâm not arguing with you. Go ahead and be flowery.â
The iron helm of a knight peeked out from beneath her covering, made for a head two sizes bigger than hers and sweeping along her skull to hide all her hair and most of her cheeks. Where once the metal had been lavishly emblazoned with silver celestial embossments, now it was scratched and worn. Its visor slumped over her forehead in a perpetual fight to shade the green in her irises. But it always lost.Â
She moved her glass, training it on someone new. âWhat about that one by the flyers? What about him?â
The boy followed her path, moving his glass from the lady near the geisthound kennels to fix it on a short soldier with leaves growing out of his shirt. âThe one with the bark-looking skin?â
âNo, the one with half a wing.â
The boy moved his spyglass again to peer at a sorry-looking figure with a pair of lace wings on his back. One of them was broken. âRaindrop,â he said.
The corner of the girlâs mouth tightened in a practiced manner, waiting for an explanation that never came. Finally, she said, âWell? Why is he called that?â
âHe always looks ready to fall to the ground, like a raindrop,â the boy said, following their target as he shuffled from one side of the courtyard to the other. He had a stack of papers in his arms, which he clutched tighter as he weaved between a squad of soldiers.
The girl laughed. âYouâve got a funny way of seeing people.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âNothing.â
âWhat would you call him then?â
âPariah. Or maybe Lost Cause.âÂ
She added a bite to her words that was both nonchalant and unnecessary. It made the boy pause. âLilyââ
âNo, he doesnât look like a Lily. I would know. How about, âForsaken?â Cause it looks like the godsâoooo, that mustâve hurt.â
Lily laughed as a bigger, burlier figure with four arms shoved Raindrop, causing the latter to stumble, fall, and drop his papers in every direction. The breeze quickly picked up the sheets and carried them away, proving to be not as kind to Raindrop as it had been to his observers. âOr Fallen, cause, yâknow, that mustâve hurt. But you were right, he was ready to fall,â she said.
The boy sighed, watching as Raindrop flicked his hands and caught the wind in his grip before it could slip away entirely, reeling the floating papers back within reach. He tried mimicking the gesture, waving his hand in the hopes he could summon the wind himself one day. âWhy are you so mean today?âÂ
âYou think Iâm mean? Iâm like this every day.â
The boy put down his spyglass and turned a hazel eye on her. On his other he wore an eyepatch with a large scar poking out from beneath. The grisly wound traveled along his face from the top of his left brow and swooped down his cheek, exiting at the jawbone. Another scar, just barely visible at the hollow of his throat, peeked out from the collar of his shirt in the shape of a star exploding in all directions, seared into his skin. âLily, whatâs going on?â
âI told you,â Lily said absently, still looking through her spyglass. âNothing.â
The boy watched her a moment longer. When she stayed quiet, he scowled. âFine.â
Lily shook her head, keeping her eyes on the courtyard below. âDonât get dramatic.â
âI tell you everything, Lily.â
âSometimes I wish you wouldnât,â she muttered.
The boyâs expression fell. At his sullen silence, Lily put her glass down and turned to him, revealing a cherubic face. âHaving a tantrum?âÂ
The boy crossed his arms. âYou can try to hide it, but I know when youâre upset.â
âIâm not upset.â
âYouâre never like this without a reason.â
She shrugged. âMaybe I just donât like him.â
âYouâve never met him.â
âBut you said it yourself, Iâm a heartless little girl who doesnât tell you everything.â
The boy huffed indignantly. âI never said that!â
âYeah, well, itâs what you meant.â
He stared at her in disbelief for several breaths before grunting and standing up. He was done with this back-and-forth. Gods only knew how often theyâd gone through it before.
âSevi.â She sighed. âStop.â
âIâm going to get food,â Sevi said, turning away.
Lily watched for a moment, allowing him to walk a distance away, before finally throwing up her hands. âGods. Fine.â
Sevi stopped, turning to face her expectantly. His clothingâthreadbare and tornâhung loosely on a lean frame that was hollowed out from years of hunger. Lily was in no better shape, but he could pride himself in the extra head of height he had on her. She, however, could boast of retaining her shadow. His own had been absent for quite some time.
âI hate it when you do this,â Lily grumbled. âI wasnât going to tell you, just because I knew this would put you into one of your sulking moods, but hey, you went there yourself.â She crossed her arms.Â
Sevi scoffed. âYou know, I donât haveââ
âI heard something coming from the mines last night.â
His protest died on his lips as quickly as it formed.
âThey werenât the kind of echoes youâd hear from Outside, or the kitchen,â Lily continued. âIt sounded⌠not like an animal, but not like the normal cavern sounds. More like scratching, or hammering, as if something had struck a wall.â
A shiver washed through Sevi. He clutched a hand to his chest, touching the scar beneath his shirt. His lungs fluttered, and his heartbeat spiked.
Seeming to have expected this, Lily immediately raised her hands in a placating gesture. âSee, I knew you would⌠ugh. Relax. I checked it out. Weâre still sealed up tight. Whoever or whatever it was mustâve just gotten lost in the mines, if they ever existed at all. Maybe it was a large rock falling. Maybe it caused a cascade somewhere. Echoes are weird in the Cut.â
Sevi nodded and closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to settle. He didnât say anything for a moment. When he opened them, it was just in time to catch Lily scooping up a pebble. She chucked it at his face with frightening accuracy, bouncing it off his nose.
âGet me something, too, while youâre at it.â She settled back down with her spyglass.
âWhat?â
âFood. Get. Me. Food,â she said slowly, enunciating each word. âIâve been lying on my belly all day. I could use something to eat.â
Sevi inhaled and let his breath go, bit by bit, until the tightness in his chest loosened. âFood. Right. Yeah.â
âDo you have your iron?â
Sevi patted at his clothing until he felt the familiar handle of a small, needly knife, wrapped with cloth in his pants pocket. âYes.â
âWhistle, too?â
Sevi reached into another pocket and brought out a well-used signal whistle carved from bone. He blew two chirps into it.Â
Lily nodded in approval. âWill you be stopping by the garden?âÂ
âOnly if I canât get enough food from the kitchens. I have enough effizinum to last another couple nights.â
âYouâre all set, then. And itâs alright, Sev,â she added, throwing him a smile. âRelax yourself, or you might break.â
Sevi shot her another scowl. He grabbed some rope and a dirty pack, slinging them over his shoulder before stepping away. Leaving Lily to her surveyance, he set his mind to the daunting task of finding them a meal.
The Dance Between is a lyrical epic fantasy about a boy who finds himself ripped from the life he knew into a world of strangers and uncertainty. Sevi cannot tell you where he came from, or who his family is, but he can tell you that life in the tunnels with his best friend, Lily, is what he calls home. Sure, the Cut is dark. They scavenge for food, fight off a cranky firedrake insistent on sleeping in their bedroom, and are constantly on alert for danger, but their life has a rhythmic familiarity. Then, one day a flying ship is seen in the sky. Soon enough, Sevi and Lily find themselves helping the human prisoner it carried escape through their precious tunnels. When the human they rescued comes back with an army in order to retake the castle from the Fablings â Fae-like beings â Sevi and Lily are ripped apart. The humans caring for Sevi after the fact seem courteous enough, but his guard remains on high alert. Is this truly his chance to leave the Cut and join the world Outside, or can he embrace both his old identity and his new life in a way that lets him reunite with the most important person in his life?
The Dance Between is an epic fantasy of the likes of the Shannara books. Our protagonist is a mysterious young boy who has a murky past. The only things he is sure of are that Lily has saved his life over and over again, and that without her his life is meaningless. In Sevi we see an adventure of life and death, both literal and figurative. He survives an invasion from the human army following the rescue of the human prisoner but wakes up not knowing whether his best friend made it out alive. He has seen how the Fablings dealt with the castleâs true owners and witnessed the cruelty and viciousness of greed and the lust for power. At the same time, though, Seviâs transition from his life in the tunnels to the world beyond is reminiscent of the boy leaving the comforts and innocence of childhood beyond in order to embark into the wider, wondrous, but also perilous world outside.
The âdeathâ of innocence as a child grows is something fantasy has a unique way of showcasing. The Dance Between may contain Fae creatures, flying airships, dragons and magic, but it also still holds everything which makes humanity so precious (and dangerous): love, sorrow, growth, loss, etc. The book was a little slow going at first, and I kept feeling like I was waiting for that first shoe to drop that would really kickstart the main plot. Once I finally got there, though, the pacing of the book really found consistency. I also was a bit disoriented in the first few chapters, as it felt like I kept reading references to aspects of Seviâs world that I should have already been familiar with, but that I had not actually experienced yet. For example, the exact nature of the Fablings was not made 100% clear to me until after Sevi had been with the humans for some weeks.
Overall, The Dance Between is a wonderfully built epic fantasy and I would recommend it to any fans of the genre. Though the protagonist is a teenage boy, the book can be enjoyed by those of any adult age, as well. Â