The best high fantasy books from Next Chapter [March 2023]
High fantasy is a genre of fiction that typically takes place in a fictional world or universe with its own set of rules and laws of nature. The stories often involve a struggle between good and evil, with magical creatures, ancient prophecies, and epic battles. The genre is known for its intricate world-building and complex characters.
One of the most famous examples of high fantasy is J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy. The books, set in the world of Middle-earth, follow a hobbit named Frodo Baggins as he embarks on a quest to destroy the One Ring, a powerful artifact created by the evil Lord Sauron. Along the way, he is joined by a group of characters from different races and backgrounds, each with their own strengths and weaknesses.
Other popular high fantasy series include George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire," which inspired the hit television series "Game of Thrones," and Robert Jordan's "The Wheel of Time," which recently received a television adaptation on Amazon Prime. The genre continues to inspire new writers and captivate readers with its imaginative worlds and epic adventures.
Here you’ll find some of the best high fantasy books from our authors, as of March 2023. Some of the books below are completely free to download as eBooks from Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Rakuten Kobo and Google Books. If you enjoy one of the stories below, please don’t forget to leave the author a review! Don’t agree with our choices? Please leave a comment and let us know your favorite in the genre :)
Books featured on this page
Talismans (The Wise Ones Book 1) by Lisa Lowell
The Time After Oblivion (Mythos Book 1) by Jonny Capps
Legacy (The Dead God Series Book 1) by C.J. Pyrah
Birth (Once, Upon A New Time Book 1) by Donna Russo Morin
Cradle Of The Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1) by Thomas Quinn Miller
Darrienia (The Forgotten Legacies Book 1) by KJ Simmill
Book excerpt
Just under a month had passed since Acha had returned to the cabin with Zo. The first few days had been difficult. Despite the accomplishments in her past she found herself lacking the confidence she had displayed so easily back then. It had taken time for her to come to terms with the different dialect and customs. But by utilising the experience of the young lady, whose life-force she had replaced, she was able to adapt relatively quickly.
It was different in so many ways to her own time, but now she was more accustomed to it she felt at home in her new surroundings, and her friendship with Zo and Daniel had blossomed. Their socialisation had become a regular routine. She truly felt as if she belonged exactly where she was. It was almost as if this time and these people were always meant to be her home and family.
Elly was adept in many things, and it was clear her skills were far superior to those of the young man who followed her. He was certainly an amateur. He made far too much noise for someone familiar with this kind of work. She couldn’t help but be insulted that Blackwood thought so little of her to send a spy of this calibre to follow her. Clearly, he had let his guard down and forgotten she wasn’t really his daughter. It was a façade they had maintained for longer than she cared for, but it still served a purpose.
So far, despite the critical flaws in his tracking and concealment, she had played along. She let him believe she was clueless, that she didn’t hear the cracking of twigs beneath his feet, or his laboured breathing when she decided to quicken the pace. In honesty, she was having fun toying with him. It helped to pass the time on what was otherwise a very long journey by foot. After all, she couldn’t risk introducing her pursuer to the convenience of Collateral. She wondered how long he could continue at their current pace, after all, she didn’t need to rest, and only did so when it seemed he could push himself no further.
Talismans (The Wise Ones Book 1) by Lisa Lowell
Book excerpt
The dream fell on Owailion like light rain, soft and refreshing. He had not thought, given how overwhelming the day had been to that point, that he would also have a dream so tremendously life-altering as well. It started with him back on the top of the mountain, on the ledge but Mohan was not there. Instead, a great storm cloud loomed overhead and Owailion looked up into it with wonder, expecting an explanation.
“No,” a voice announced from the cloud. “I have a task for you and a blessing. Owailion, you have come to the Land to help and you will be rewarded. You will not be alone for eternity. If you fulfill the instructions I give to you, the door will be opened for immeasurable blessings. First, you must learn all you can from the dragons, for they will sleep soon. You may ask for their help but the work must be yours. I have also prepared other Wise Ones that will walk the Land with you. Have faith that your path will be clear and when it is not, it will be straight.”
Owailion didn’t know what to say to the voice in the cloud, though he assumed this was why he had come to the Land. And he was on the path, even if he could not remember the start of his journey. He said the only thing he could say. “What must I do?”
Another vision imposed itself into Owailion’s mind. In it, he held a little bronze bowl as he stood along a luxurious river valley, at the bank of peaceful green water. In his vision, Owailion knelt at the river’s edge and filled the vessel. Then he looked inside, hoping to see the future as if it were a crystal ball. The reflection in the water shifted from displaying the sky. Instead, he saw mountains from afar and within the mountain’s ring, he saw a deep forest below it. The reflected image swooped as swift as a dragon, plunging down into the trees and until it alighted on the forest floor.
Owailion held the bowl rock-solid in excitement. He was about to witness something magical. The scene passed through the base of the trees, hundreds of them, lined with ferns and then toward a strange clearing. A light dusting of pine needles and ferns lined it but no trees interrupted. Instead, he saw eight standing stones like sentinels within. The reflection was too small for him to study the stones closely but in reality, they could easily be twice the height of a man, all set out in a perfect ring. And most intriguing of all, they boasted writing. He strained to make out the markings in the reflection but they were too small.
The Time After Oblivion (Mythos Book 1) by Jonny Capps
Book excerpt
Hercules made his way back to the table where Jason was seated, carrying two large glass goblets filled to the brim with a dark beverage, topped with a thick head of foam. The tavern was dimly lit with a soft light provided by candles situated strategically around the room and by lanterns hung on the walls. Creatures and deities from all different regions sat basking in the ambiance of the tavern and enjoying their drinks.
On one end of the room, there was a long bar, where two attractive women served drinks to patrons perched on stools. Opposite the bar, there was a small stage where an acting troupe was preparing for the evening show. At one table, the god Anubis could be seen discussing the afterlife with Nanna, the Norse goddess of grief. Elsewhere, Jason spotted Narcissus, sitting proudly with a wide smile and a beautiful water nymph on his arm. Drinking alone in a corner sat the tentacled Cthulhu, a god whom none of the others really understood. For his part, it did not seem he desired to be understood. He was satisfied sitting alone, drinking his beer, and dreaming of worlds to devour.
The bartending god Dionysus walked through the tavern, moving from table to table, making small talk with the patrons. He laughed at jokes, whether funny or not, and refilled drinks from the pitcher he carried with him. This was his tavern, and all were welcome, providing that they did not make too much of a scene. If they did make a scene, it had better be an entertaining one, otherwise they would be thrown out. The occasional fight could not be avoided, but if it was a foolish quarrel or a one-sided combat, the value was seriously diminished.
Hercules sat down in his seat, considered the drinks closely for a moment, and then passed the one with a thicker head to Jason. Jason accepted it and drank deeply. He made a face as he swallowed the fluid.
“Ugh,” he complained. “This is not wine.”
Legacy (The Dead God Series Book 1) by C.J. Pyrah
Book excerpt
The track that led between Master Amos’ farmstead and Bywater followed the line of the hillside for a mile before veering off at a right angle and leading towards the village. Indeed, the track took the walker very much out of their way and there didn’t seem to be any reason why the makers of the track hadn’t created a more direct line between Amos’ farm and Bywater.
The farmstead had been on the hill overlooking the village for almost as long as Bywater had been in existence. Amos always used to boast that one of his very distant relatives was on the first village council, close to three hundred years ago. It was unlikely, therefore, that the field system lying between Bywater and Torben had been long established when the Master Amos of yesteryear had chosen to homestead on the hillside.
If it had been daytime, Torben would have cut across the fields and taken a more direct route but, in the dim moonlight, he knew it was safer to stick to the track, even though it led him almost a mile out of his way. The fields that lay between Bywater and Amos’ farm were ill maintained and boggy, and Torben had no desire to get muddy or to break an ankle in a rabbit hole. In fact, no one in the village could actually remember a time when any crop had been cultivated, or any animals grazed on the fields; they were of the general opinion that the fields were the subject of a long-forgotten land dispute that no one wished to breathe life into again.
Not that any dispute in Bywater would have been particularly ferocious. The most exciting thing that had happened in living memory was when the village cooper had gotten into a fistfight with a travelling salesman outside the tavern who, he claimed, had cheated him on the price of a shipment of barrels. The story was still told by the old folks that propped up the bar in the Rusty Sickle, even though the event had taken place over thirty years ago and the fist-fighting cooper was long dead.
The dirt crunched softly under Torben’s boots as he made his way. The sound of his footsteps seemed intrusive in the still night air. There wasn’t much life in this part of Burndale. Behind Amos’ farm, the land sloped up to the Burn Downs, a desolate and infertile area of rolling chalk hills that almost completely surrounded Burndale, and where only gorse, heather, and the occasional pine tree could scrape a living. No one in the valley knew what lay beyond the Downs, nor indeed how large the Downs even were. A consensus had been collectively reached that they weren’t worth thinking about and, as a result, no one strayed far to the north, east or west of Bywater. Having said that, even if one had wanted to explore the Downs, the lack of paths or tracks, the treacherous carpet of bracken and heather, and the rolling mass of ditches and hillsides made it nigh impossible to make much progress. Occasionally, some of the village’s young men attempted to cross the Downs, but they inevitably returned a few hours after they’d set off, muddy and dejected.
Birth (Once, Upon A New Time Book 1) by Donna Russo Morin
Book excerpt
The small manor house nestled within a grove of pine, their prickly needles just beginning the slow turn to autumn auburn glory.
“Talia?” Belamay bellowed, the call rising above the thunder of the horses charging forward through the small dirt courtyard. The soldier pulled hard on the reins at the front arched door, jumping from the bay even before it had come to a stop.
Grunting, throwing off the heavy, encompassing helmet, flushed pale skin revealed, Belamay yelled once more, impatience mingling with insistence. “Talia!”
The door burst open and the young, aproned maid stood in its threshold. Blue eyes round, bulging, held reflections of her mistress covered in blood, of Witon with a bloodier creature flopping in his lap.
Belamay could see the shock writ so plainly on the young girl. For nearly two years, Talia had served in Belamay’s home, never knowing Belamay as the secret soldier she was, the only daughter of a deceased, distinguished warrior, a nobleman and his wife, both lost in a fire years ago. Reaching out, Belamay took Talia’s hand gently, giving it a shake.
“Look at me, Talia.” She took the girl’s other hand, giving both a shake as the maid’s loose arms quivered. Dropping her voice, imitating her father with a concoction of command and care, Belamay spoke the girl’s name once more: “Talia.” It was all she needed.
The pale, bulging eyes turned to her; in them, Belamay gratefully found recognition, cognition.
Belamay dipped her head, eye to eye. “I need you to make for the Dwarf village. ‘Tis but a short distance away, but you must run. You must hurry.”
The willowy girl’s jaw dropped, her head shaking slightly. “The D-Dwarf Village?” With each syllable, Talia’s voice squeaked higher.
Belamay nodded slowly, patiently. “Yes. But have no fear. Speak my name to any who would question or cross you, and I swear,” here, Belamay took both of Talia’s hands and clasped them in hers, as if they prayed as one, “I swear to you, ye will come to no harm.”
Talia snapped shut her trembling mouth. She nodded unenthusiastically, not looking wholly convinced.
“That’s my girl.” Belamay awarded her with a smile. “Ask for Pagmav, he is their healer. Tell him a life needs his hands.”
“P… Pagmav?” Talia stuttered on the unfamiliar name, moving slowly, a specter in a dream… a nightmare.
Belamay nodded. “Pagmav, yes.” Raising her voice, a clip of harshness crept its way in. She spun the girl by the shoulders, turned her toward the eastward path leading away from the manor, and gave her a soft push. “Go!”
She gave a command, one not to be denied.
Cradle Of The Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1) by Thomas Quinn Miller
Book excerpt
We are going to cause an uprising.
Gaidel followed closely behind her shieldwarden. She had to return to the Cradle as she had been told, but she didn't believe Mother Brambles understood what she was asking.
They made their way through a portion of the Redwood her people simply called the Drops. Heavily forested and plagued with dank ravines and tiny rivers which snaked down from the mountains that held the Cradle above them like a small prize. It was the lowest part of the forest that bordered the Nordlah Plains and thus the most dangerous.
The two travelers worked their way along one of those ravines. She paused on a patch of level ground to catch her breath and wipe bits of mud and moss from her thin hands. The sun didn't reach into the deep ravines and the spring thaw still fed the icy waters that trickled through them.
Two Elks seem to sense she was no longer behind him and stopped. The large kite shield, the mark of a shieldwarden, looked so small on his back.
“The daughter is tired,” Two Elks stated more than asked.
“I am not tired,” Gaidel said, trying to get her breathing under control. True, he was setting a grueling pace, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
She looked around. “I was just wondering if this was the best way.” It had been over two years since she left the Cradle, but she recalled being escorted down a proper trail. She was only ten and four years when she was selected to become a sister of the order, but she didn't remember having to climb down sodden ravines. “I recall a trail that leads through this portion of the Drops. Why are we not on it?” she asked.
Two Elks stared for a few moments and then climbed down next to her. “Trail dangerous. Watched. This way is safe.”
Gaidel considered what she knew about the Drops. It was not uncommon for Two Elks' people to test their young braves by sending them into the Drops in small raiding parties. The very practice that led to the hostile relationship between their two peoples and why she knew it was not a good idea for her to be going there now with her new shieldwarden.
Why Mother Brambles had taken her out of the Cradle for her training was still a mystery to her. Why she had been bonded to a Nordlah Plains Barbarian an even greater one. She was the only Redwood Druid she had ever heard of to be bonded to a plainsman.
She motioned for him to continue. What was done was done. She was a Daughter of the All Mother and Two Elks was bonded to her. Those who did not accept that would find out soon enough how little she cared what they thought. Two Elks continued to stare. She glared at him until he turned back around and continued climbing. With his long reach and honed muscles, he made short work of the remaining climb.
When Gaidel reached the top of the ravine, Two Elks was moving towards her with shield and axe in hand, his face hard. “Come Daughter, I have found something.”
“Call me Gaidel,” she said. There was something about the way he said her honorific that irritated her.
She followed behind him for only a short distance. She smelled his find before she saw it. The grizzled remains of two bodies, cradlers by the looks of their clothes, lay mangled on the forest floor.
Gaidel swallowed down bile and brought her staff before her defensively, studying the woods.
“Day only. Less maybe. They are gone now,” Two Elks said.
There you go: the best high fantasy books from Next Chapter in 03/2023. We hope you enjoy the stories - and if you do, please leave a comment below, or a review in Goodreads or your favorite store. It would mean a lot to us!
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