Review: Relic Reborn by Iain Ralston

A dark fantasy bloodbath of noble knights and vengeful demons, Relic Reborn by Iain Ralston is an explosive, action-filled first installment of a new high-fantasy series.

Thousands of years ago, a demonic army from the plane of Shkigal was defeated and sent back to their realm, but not before their god and creator, Azzazul, sacrificed himself in a world-rending explosion to enable their retreat. Millennia have passed, the world has changed, and the names of the demon lords are barely remembered by the few human mages with the power to summon them.

On the mortal plane, the Syl ‘Van Knights have long protected the people of Azangrail, delivering holy justice to the raiders, barbarians, and bandits who threaten the peace. The Order of Syl ‘Van is a mighty force – a hardened weapon that can be wielded anywhere on Azangrail, but many hands wish to control them, some more tyrannical than others, while guild wars and court scheming further divide the factions of humanity.

When a sacred talisman is stolen from a nearby temple, Darius Reiver and the Syl ‘Van Knights under his command ride out to retrieve it, not understanding the danger they bring home with them, or the catastrophic chain of events that has begun. In the demonic realm, Hyrax remains the Supreme Commander of the demonic army, but his master seeks to once again walk the mortal plane and lay vengeance upon his siblings, and the seeds of a power struggle begin to grow. Dark omens and unnatural signs from an ancient prophecy are finally fulfilled, signaling the unimaginable return of an eternal foe from the Great Nothing.

Many blood-spattered dark fantasy titles don’t put a premium on character development and story-crafting, but this epic tale is an immersive and enthralling adventure from the very first page. At first glance, the plot looks like a classic “forces of holy light” vs. “legions of demonic darkness,” which is a reliably entertaining framework, but opposing layers of loyalty and ambition exist on both sides of this cosmic conflict, giving the plot significantly more depth.

Vitally, the character development doesn’t slow down the narrative; Ralston strikes a neat balance between sprawling battle sequences full of spine-severing gore and captivating narrative sequences that stir the pot, while still managing to avoid ham-fisted worldbuilding or rushed floods of exposition. The larger themes within the prose are timeless and universal – the addictive lust for control, the cruelty of hierarchical thinking, the power struggle between belief structures – but there are also more nuanced explorations of betrayal, bravery, legacy, and justice.

On a technical level, the writing is clean and varied in both language and pace; refreshingly, Ralston finds fresh and visceral ways for bodies to be maimed and fatal retribution to be delivered. Granted, some readers may blanch at the occasionally grotesque descriptions of death, but this is an unforgiving story of conquest in a genre known for lyrical brutality.

There are certain action sequences that stretch across pages, which can become repetitive vignettes of graphic violence, but the book’s rare instances of awkward wording, grammatical slips, or modern phrasing are overshadowed by incisive dialogue, thorough lore-building, and a deeply developed cast of races from across Azangrail. All told, this is an immediately addictive plunge into an imaginative hellscape and the scheming minds of men, kicking off a savagely strong new fantasy saga.