Curse of the Mistwraith, by Janny Wurts
I'm reading back through Janny Wurts' stunning "Wars Of Light And Shadow" series in preparation for reading the final volume, Stormed Kingdom. I've read all the books but the last, and in some ways, I've been saving up this final volume as a special treat for myself. The best part about a magnificent series like this one is seeing how all the threads are woven together at the end; the worst--that it ends.
Rereading Curse of the Mistwraith, I'm struck once again by how elegant a beginning to this thickly detailed, heavily poetic series Wurts has crafted. This is neither beginner fantasy nor in any way accessible to someone unfamiliar with the tropes and techniques utilized by epic fantasy writers. In many ways, Wurts carries forward with the legacy of Guy Gavriel Kay, a gentleman who was involved with editing the Silmarillion at Christopher Tolkien's behest. Kay takes the worst of the fantasy devices (Arthurian legend, modern humans transported to a fairy world) and in his Fionavar Tapestry, weaves them into a tale that I can usually only bring myself to read once or twice a decade, due to the sheer power and emotional drive of his storytelling. Wurts uses human faults and real tragedy in the same way Kay did and does, and achieves a masterwork of Shakespearian magnitude.
Curse of the Mistwraith begins a story of two half brothers destined from birth to be mortal enemies. Lysaer, the Lord of Light, is the son of a vengeance-driven king. Lysaer's father brutally treated his queen, causing her to abandon him and bear a son to his mortal enemy. That son, Lysaer's half brother, is Arithon, Master of Shadows.
From all appearances, Lysaer is the golden child, destined to bring the light of justice to the world he and Arithon find themselves in, and yet his sense of justice and fairness will be twisted by a geas from the Mistwraith. Arithon, beset by conscience and empathy, is the dark, artistic opposite of his brother.
The clashes between the two rise to the level of high tragedy due to the meticulous way Wurts causes each to act according to his character. When justice and empathy collide, you'll be stunned to see the consequences of some of the situations Lysaer and Arithon create. Wurts achieves the signal accomplishment of making me forget that I'm reading a book. The characters are so real--so human--that it's painful at times to read her series. You find yourself screaming at them not to do what their natures demand that they do--and then you see what happens.
At the same time, the compassion found in the pages of Wurts' work is spectacular and compelling. You won't 'like' or 'dislike' this series--you'll LOVE it or you'll HATE it.
NB: it starts slow and picks up towards the middle of the second book in the series; all the character development is necessary, so take your time and read carefully to really appreciate all the levels upon which this tale works.