Preface
This is the translation of my german book, which I have been publishing since June 2025. I am doing the translation myself with occasional help from DeepL.
“A Whisper of Magic” is not for the faint-hearted – I have already included trigger warnings in the synopsis, but I would like to warn you again: this is not a cosy novel that you can just read casually. Nor is it a novel that you can read without thinking.
My characters often find themselves in moral grey areas. They are imperfect. Some cruel and vindictive, some extremely ambitious, some broken. My villains usually deserve that label.
Lyra is an emotional, sometimes unreliable narrator with some very rough edges. Because be honest - everything else would be boring. And nobody needs another Mary-Sue.
Disclaimer, just to be sure: The views of my characters do not necessarily correspond to mine.
I will include little hints and foreshadowing for those who are attentive enough to recognise them. Sometimes there are little hints in the chapter headings. Everyone else will have to expect that the solutions to my puzzles will sometimes come a little later. But they will come, I promise.
I have put a lot of work into this book. And even more thought into my characters . I am always happy when this work is appreciated with likes, reactions and comments. And don’t worry – I don’t bite. I take criticism and suggestions very seriously.
I am just as happy to receive praise and your thoughts on the scenes that move you, that trigger something in you.
So then – let’s dive into this world together with Lyra.
Let’s hate the villains together. Let’s plot our revenge.
Let’s learn to love the many unique characters. Let’s question our own perceptions when some characters challenge Lyra’s attitude.
Let’s learn magic together.
And tear down an empire.
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If you’re not sure whether to read my book or not, let me give you a taste. Those are quotations from various chapters up till the end of book 1:
Somehow a consciousness of it stirred within me. For what it was andcould be. For its existence, deep inside me. It seemed to bubble up from a source somewhere in my stomach area. Not a lively bubbling stream, but a roaring, rushing river that made its way through my body.
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“I’m not apologising either,” he said coldly. His expression was unyielding. “But I want you to do yourself a favour and realise that some things in this world are not black and white, even if you wish they were.”
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“Do you do this often?” I asked her dryly. “Or is it just an occasional pastime?”
Her smile broadened. She pointed out into the dark night. “Look.”
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“And?!” I asked, proud of how unimpressed I sounded.
“Just leave it. I have better things to do than fetch you from the roof terrace at night.”
“Really? But isn’t that exactly your job as his personal watchdog?” I asked him mockingly.
His eyes narrowed. “It is,” he said slowly, and then continued, “Just as it will be my job to recapture you if, contrary to expectations, you manage to leave the palace grounds. I probably don’t need to emphasise that it would be a very short chase.”
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“As you wish,” he said, simply and definitively. “You may choose the place and time of your death yourself. I will abide by your decision.”
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His fingers traced barely visible gestures in the air, his gaze focused, his body in constant motion, like a dancer surrendering to the beat of invisible music. A dance that allowed him to skilfully dodge some attacks and meet others with composure. Lightning flashed between the threads of magic, a soft humming sound hung over the square like the chirping of thousands of invisible insects. The coarse sand was blown into the air, obscuring visibility. The outlines of the two men blurred in the flickering light of the spells, in whirlpools of fire, wind and shattering earth.
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I curled my lips in contempt. “One always has a choice,” I said. My voice trembled with suppressed anger. I didn’t know how, but I managed to remain calm so I could hurl the next words at him in an icy tone.
“By all the gods, I don’t know how you can live with yourself.”
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“You’re dancing on the edge of a precipice. And believe me, the ground will give way faster than you’d like.”
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“How long have you been listening to yourself lie?!” I asked contemptuously. “Don’t tell me about your guilt as if it were a price worth paying.”
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Behind the desk stood, as always, the small statuette of Thadur. The god of magic. I stared at him grimly, and Thadur looked back as sternly as usual, without a smile, his hands raised, a cloak over his shoulders. Lysanna loved and revered Thadur beyond measure.
That alone convinced me that the old curmudgeon should not be allowed to exist.
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“Seriously, never confide in Alda, or the entire Valentian court will soon know. The poor thing doesn’t even realise she’s such a gossip, she just doesn’t know any better. Clear proof that power doesn’t always mean brains.” Elise looked at Alda with a pitying expression over her empty shot glass.”
