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The last ranger

by J.D.L Rosell

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It’s my pleasure to share my review and an excerpt from The Last Ranger. Stay till the end and enter for a chance to win a paperback or hardcopy of the novel.

The Last Ranger

Series: Ranger of the Titan Wilds
Genre: Epic Fantasy/“Bow” & Sorcery
Intended Age Group: Adult
Pages: 466
Published: December 27, 2022
Publisher: Rune & Requiem Press

Blurb

Betrayed. Hunted. Left for dead. But not even death itself can keep the last ranger from vengeance.

Leiyn “Firebrand” is no stranger to a fight. A brash ranger of the Titan Wilds, she takes up her bow to ward against the colossal spirit creatures known as titans, ever a threat to the colonies she has sworn to protect.

But no amount of skill can guard against treachery.

When tragedy strikes the rangers’ lodge, Leiyn vows to avenge the fallen. But if she is to succeed, she must embrace a power within her she has long denied.

Power to move mountains and rivers.

Power over life and death.

She did not choose this path, but Leiyn knows her duty. For if she fails, the legacy of the rangers dies with her — and all the Titan Wilds will fall into shadow.

Shadow of the Colossus • Hamilton • “Never Gonna Give You Up”

Content/Trigger Warnings:

Shown on Page: Racism, Sexism, Homophobia, Gore, Child neglect, Vomiting, animal violence

Alluded to: Alcohol usage

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My Review

Not very often does the prose of a story and the plot check in all the boxes for me. The Last Ranger, the first book of Ranger of The Titan Wilds by J.D.L Rosell, captured my attention from the first chapter to the last. As if the cover wasn’t already fantastic, wait until you read about this incredible world filled with amazing landscapes, enduring characters, and a history of war bands, corrupt leaders, plus plenty of lore with fantastical creatures. Welcome to Titan Wilds.

The novel begins with the most captivating and descriptive short chapter that I want to read over and over. See the attached excerpt as well as the next chapter to read it for yourself. At the heart of the story is a group of Rangers in Titan Wilds with Leiyn featuring the main character. We meet her and the loadmaster Tadeo, who has sheltered and raised her since she was little when her mother passed away at childbirth, when they come upon a thorned lion beast they try to drive away. A situation of a quasi role reversal, where the student now saves the master, leads to much reflection in camp around the fire and renewed energy for next day’s adventure. Here we find out that Leiyn has lived with a curse since her birth, at which not a midwife but a Gast shaman attended, but also, that the Rache massacre took away everything she had left in her life before joining Tadeo and the Rangers.

On the next outing, they come across a merchant caravan that seems greatly suspicious of being a Javelin warband, led by a shaman with what might be a forged document to travel. When a Titan, a spirit beast that’s usually in slumber slices through the air, it can only mean one thing: That a shaman woke it and war is imminent. Back in camp, Leiyn and the other Rangers examine the documents she confiscated and the story unfolds with informational moments about the conflict between the Tri Colonies and the Ancestral Lands. Not always do Tadeo and her see eye to eye when it comes to the Jaguars, the marked symbol of Gasts and the worst raids they inflicted in the Titan World. Up to this point, Leiyn has not confided to her lodgemaster about the hovering mahia magic that runs through her veins and becomes increasingly more difficult to control.

“Relent to the Gast magic, and it would spell her death”

With Isla, her best friend, fellow Ranger, and confidant, she rides to the place of the caravan discovery the next morning to further investigate when they come across a camp of Ilberian soldiers and misleading tracks. It looks as though the Gasts went south and the Suncoats went north. But Suncoats of the Crown Proper never come this far into the Titan Wilds. Is the war reaching the Veiled Lands?

This marks the true turning point in the story, relatively early still in the book, and it just keeps on giving. Leiyn and Isla’s friendship will be bitterly tested, and in the event of almost losing everything she cares for, Leiyn gives into the curse that rages within her. If she was to be discovered by the Ilberian Union, she’d be burned for her unnatural abilities, but that is exactly where she must travel to avenge what will be taken from her.

In the exciting, dangerous, and magical turmoil that proceeds with this journey she must take, we meet many fantastical creatures such as different Titans and shapeshifters in vivid scenery created with humming, cerebral undertones most palpable. The beauty and devastation in this novel hover equally close gripping, and I consumed these pages ravishingly.

Leiyn’s character is formidable. There is never a moment when one loses touch with her down-to-earth and strong personality. She is very likable and a natural leader in the story. Her friendship with Isla is unwavering, and the overall family sense with the other Rangers as well as her connection to Tadeo is warm and candid. Not at any point did I feel like I was reading about an immature character, though Leiyn isn’t very old with five Ranger years under her belt.

The politics, tribal systems, and history were interesting and well-fleshed out. I loved some of the more classic dilemmas of the “now you see it, and now you don’t’ ruse. With the introduction of more characters in the later chapters and a dead-end street to maneuver in, Rosell kept carving out more and more ways to guide Leiyn deeper into nail-biting circumstances. It’s this journey through propelling, well-composed events that make this story especially intriguing. The overall classic fantasy ‘feel’ to it, is my favorite, and the creatures popping up here and there in addition, evoke stunning visual imagery and atmosphere.

I cannot recommend this novel enough. It was my first one by this author, and I already ordered another of his, and read the novella that precedes the time of The Last Ranger. In my compilation of favorite self-published books I read in 2022, this made it into my top choices. If reading joy is a thing, this book gave me all of it, effortlessly.

When you pick this one up, let me know your thoughts. I’d be happy to discuss it.

Happy Reading and enjoy!

Check out the art and creatures from the story!

I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to J.D.L. Rosell for sending me an advance copy of The Last Ranger.
All opinions are my own.

Thank you!

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excerpt

Chapter One

The Hidden One

The silver fox watched the Hidden One travel along the wooded trail.

He had followed the human and the horse for some time now. This human had always had a peculiar scent, an aroma that contained many things. The fragrance of the forest. The predator's stench. A second life burning within the first.

The fox sniffed again but could sense nothing more. Once, when the human was a kit, lost and vulnerable, she had been open to him and he had brought her comfort. Now, the Hidden One closed herself off, both to him and the surrounding wilderness, in a way he had never felt before.

And so, he followed, seeking to understand what had gone wrong.

The silver fox was not accustomed to creatures isolating themselves. Around him, the woods were alive and open. Trees smoldered with ancient persistence. Insects sparked brief lives along the loamy ground. Birds and squirrels, tempting the fox's hunger, were bursts of essence as they scattered at his approach.

But the Hidden One held her lifefire close, only a hint of it escaping her bounds. As she scanned the surrounding forest, her eyes were sky-bright and wary. Her mane, reaching past her shoulders, was bark-brown but for a single russet tress, like the color of a common fox's summer coat. She had tangled it like interwoven vines, and the auburn threads created a striking striped pattern. Like all humans, she had bundled herself in the skins of slain beasts and bore items of shaped wood and stone that shone when the sun caught upon it.

It was not only the furs that put the fox on high alert. It was her posture, her gaze, her keen awareness—all spoke of a huntress' prowess. She was a kit no longer, and he would not treat her as such. That she held her fire close only heightened the danger, allowing her to prowl almost unnoticed.

The Hidden One reached the edge of a wide meadow, amidst which a mighty creature stood. But it was not this beast nor the Hidden One's tense posture that told the fox his lurking had come to an end.

Death hung thick in the air.

It was the odor as well as a subtler sense that warned him to be wary. The fox was attuned to both and heeded them well. Though his curiosity was far from sated, he backed away from the meadow.

Prey did not linger when hunters were near.

The fox knew his place in the world's fabric. He could not protect the huntress from herself. So as the Hidden One crouched in ambush, the fox bounded away and leaped through the bright leaves to seek the dark places in between.

Pressing his way into the web of life, the silver fox wriggled for a moment, then disappeared entirely.

Chapter Two

The Wilds’ Protector

She was a whisper among the leaves as she ghosted to the edge of the clearing.

Leiyn's heart drummed on her ribs. Her muscles burned as they worked to keep her movements silent, her figure small and unseen. Her natural senses were awake and keen, taking in the nuances of the forest noises. Aspen branches rustling. Distant birds singing. The stench of slain prey. The stiff breeze that carried the smell to her and obscured her own from the creature ahead.

Leiyn stared at the beast in the clearing as it feasted on a deer. A thorned lion, Tadeo had called it, and Leiyn judged it an apt name. Black spines bristled around its neck, sharp as any porcupine's, but large enough to gore a man. They marked it as male, for the females only had thorns along their back.

The rest of the creature was no less impressive. His body stretched longer than a human's and was built with powerful muscles evident beneath a short, orange coat. When he looked up after ripping free a fresh bite of flesh, his amber eyes seemed to possess a sharp intelligence. Each of the lion's massive paws were tipped with sharp claws. Even his flicking tail was a weapon, smaller spines fanning out from the end of it.

Here was a sight few in the world could claim to see, even among her fellow rangers. Won't Isla be jealous. Leiyn smirked as she anticipated her friend's expression.

Her hand itched to capture in meticulous lines the impressive beast standing not twenty strides before her. But she'd left her charcoal pen and hidebound journal back with her horse. Now was not the time for idle hobbies.

Still, she committed every detail to memory while she waited for Tadeo's signal.

Their plan was simple. As thorned lions were a danger to any who happened across them, it was necessary to drive the beast back into the mountains. Fortunately, Tadeo, lodgemaster to the rangers, had done this duty once before, and had learned from the previous lodgemaster that thorned lions were particularly averse to the scent of fennel. A couple of torches smoking with fennel might drive a predator such as this safely away from the civilized lands of the Tricolonies and back into its native territory.

Presently, Leiyn's torch was slung over her shoulder. Before they could enact their plan, they had to wait for the lion to eat his fill. Move too soon, and he would defend his kill to the death. So, she held her longbow instead, an arrow nocked and ready in case something went wrong and the lion sensed them.

For the moment, however, all was proceeding to plan.

She glanced into the brush to her left. Somewhere among the leaves, Tadeo waited as she did. Even without seeing him, she would know when it was time by his lit torch.

Patience is a hunter's greatest gift, the lodgemaster would often say. Unfortunately, in Leiyn, patience ran in short supply.

She restrained herself as the lion took a bite, chewed, laid down, then rose and took another bite. Light was bleeding from the sky as afternoon waned into evening. Hunger gnawed at her belly. Still, Leiyn didn't make any unnecessary movement. Long had she grown used to the privations of her profession, and she knew better than to risk exposing herself for a little relief.

Then her nose caught a whiff of something that stiffened her spine.

Leiyn tilted her head back and breathed in, slowly and fully. The odor was unmistakable, reeking of cadavers long since spoiled. It was how a slain deer would smell in a week or two, but fresh as it was, there could only be one other source.

Jackals.

She clenched her jaw as she slowly looked around the woods behind her. Tusked jackals were one of the many dangers in the Titan Wilds. Aggressive and violent, they hunted in packs that could take down any beast or human they set their minds to and would ravage the homesteads in the Titan Wilds as well as the Lodge until they were put down. In her five years as a ranger, she'd contended with them twice and always came away with a new scar.

There was no driving jackals away with herb and torch. Arrows and knives were the only deterrence they understood.

The thorned lion seemed to notice the jackals, for he, too, came alert. His jowls drew back, revealing bloody fangs. As if they knew they'd been detected, the jackals sounded their eerie howls. The din came from the north beyond the lion, though nearer with each passing moment.

She didn't have to wait long. They bounded over the hill's crest, yapping and snarling, their eyes wide with bloodlust. Their tusks curled from their mouths like a boar's. Ears, ragged and torn from dozens of battles, twitched atop their heads. Bits of the carrion, in which they liked to roll and for their characteristic stench, clung to their black and gray coats. There were dozens of them, a score at least, and by their scrawny torsos, they were starved for their next meal.

Her skin prickled into gooseflesh. Though every creature had a right to eat, these were a scourge upon the land. They couldn't be allowed to roam free.

A branch snapped.

Leiyn froze. The sound had come from her left. Tadeo. She wanted to spit curses, but silence was more important than ever, for she wasn't alone in noticing the noise. The tusked jackals had stopped to stare at the patch of forest where the lodgemaster hid. She and her mentor had disguised themselves well, but all it would take was the interest of one to alert the others.

She waited a breath, then two, daring to hope they would be preoccupied by the predator before them. One jabbered, then two more.

The three began to pad cautiously down the hill, heading in Tadeo's direction.

She moved by instinct, setting down the torch and reaching slowly for her quiver so as to not draw any eyes. There was no conscious decision.

Death was the least she would risk for Tadeo.

The arrow hummed as Leiyn drew it from the quiver at her hip. Nocking it, she set it to her anchoring hand against the nicked ash of her longbow. The three jackals were halfway down the hill, while the others still ringed the lion, waiting for the violence to begin.

Leiyn bared her teeth as she rose to her feet. In one smooth motion, she drew back the bowstring.

Then she loosed.

3. Pride & Shame

Her bow thwacked as the arrow released. The narrow shaft hummed across the meadow, taking the jackal in the throat. It spun to the ground where it lay jerking in its death throes.

The clearing erupted into chaos.

Jackals yipped; the lion roared; the adversaries clashed. But not all the beasts had been fooled. Half a dozen jackals had seen where death flew from, and they sprinted down the hill—making directly for her.

"Fesht!" she cursed as she drew another shot. The next arrow took one in the eye; her third, close to the heart. Distantly, through the blood pounding in her ears, she heard Tadeo crying out, trying to draw attention to himself and away from her.

She'd have laughed had she not been breathless. Between them, it was always a competition of who could sacrifice themself for the other.

The remaining four jackals were nearly upon her. Up close, their size didn't seem so diminutive, nor their tusks small. Any one of them could kill her if she gave them an opening.

Heaving the string back one last time, Leiyn put an arrow down one of the beasts' mouths before throwing aside her bow and dropping her hands to her left hip. There, she found well-worn leather grips and pulled the weapons free: twin blades, mirror-bright and almost as long as a Suncoat's short sword. They'd been forged by the weaponsmith in Folly, the closest town to the Lodge, upon her cloaking as a ranger. "Don't be rash," Tadeo had told her then, with a significant raise of his eyebrows.

But rashness could be a strength as well as a weakness. As the jackals barreled toward her, Leiyn didn't hesitate. She'd been honed as sharp as her knives, and not even death could make her lose her edge.

The first tusked jackal approached on her right, the second not far behind. Her right knife met the first beast as it leaped, whipping across its jaw and splitting it open wide. As it choked on its blood, the jackal crashed into her, tusks scoring her leather jerkin and sending her careening.

At that moment, its ally joined the attack. Leiyn tried regaining her balance, but knew the hit was inevitable. She threw up her left arm and bared her teeth as the jackal's jaws closed about it. Swathed in a thick leather armguard, the canines didn't pierce as deeply as they might have, but it still hurt like Legion's hells.

Snarling, Leiyn reversed her grip on her knife and whipped her arm around to slam the jackal against a nearby tree trunk. The blade pierced its neck even as her second knife worked between its ribs. The growl in the jackal's throat died to gurgling, though its jaws remained locked into her flesh. Even dead, the devils didn't yield.

Prying the beast off, Leiyn looked up to see another trio charge down the hill. She gritted her teeth against the pain and backed deeper into the brush, hoping the foliage might funnel them toward her.

It worked better than she'd hoped. The first two tusked jackals ran into each other as they tried pushing through the same narrow gap, and for a moment, they stopped to snap at each other. The third leaped nimbly over the other two, then went for her leg.

Leiyn stood ready. Dancing out of the way, she countered with a bite of a knife, finding the base of the beast's skull and pounding through. Fresh blood sprayed over her gloves.

She'd unsheathed her blade from the jackal by the time its companions rallied. This time, they worked together, leaping at her from either side. Leiyn's hands worked independently as she met their attacks. Her left knife scored an ear, the right, an eye. Neither wound was enough to kill.

As the jackals ripped through her jerkin and into her sides, something within her snapped.

A sensation seared her, like someone touched hot embers to the wounds, multiplying the pain. Leiyn's senses were scrambled as she reeled. The world had gathered a different shade to it. Living things glowed, their inner fires revealed. The jackals burned brightest.

Leiyn lashed out at them with every weapon she possessed.

The knives felt cold and lifeless in her hands as she plunged them into the midst of those beastly fires. As the steel pierced their hides, their fires grew muted. She didn't stop. A shriek erupted from her throat, so guttural she almost didn't recognize it.

She stabbed them until their bodies were as leeched of life as the knives that had killed them.

The pain dulled, and the fury went with it. Leiyn stared at her arms and the blood filming them. Her hidden sense remained open, and beneath what her eyes saw, she detected the glow of her own esse, brighter even than it had been before.

She'd stolen the jackals' lifefires.

Her stomach turned. She thought she would be sick, but danger hadn't yet passed. With effort, Leiyn swallowed her rising gorge and raised the walls around her mahia. As her innate magic became blind, the fires around her faded, and plants and animals returned to their ordinary appearances.

Though it shamed her to admit it, the world appeared bland without the magic.

Focus. Be the damned ranger you're supposed to be.

She shoved the roiling emotions away and looked beyond the forest toward the continued sounds of fighting. The battle appeared to be coming to an end. The remaining tusked jackals, eight by her swift count, seemed to lose heart before such determined resistance. The thorned lion projected another ear-splitting roar, and the jackals broke. Yapping, they tore back up the hill, returning north to the mountains from which they'd come.

The lion turned his great head back around to stare at Leiyn through the brush. Even with the distance separating them, his gaze made her want to dance with anxiety. She avoided his eyes, but drew herself upright, trying to seem as large as possible. She wasn't small for a woman, but next to a lion, she doubted the display would count for much.

But the lion didn't appear interested. After several moments, he shifted his gaze from her to look to her left, where Tadeo no doubt stood in a similarly defiant manner. Then, with a nonchalant air, he shook his mane, spraying droplets of jackal blood in a pink mist, and began to work his tongue over his many wounds.

Leiyn breathed a sigh of relief, then touched a hand to the injuries the jackals had dealt her.

She froze.

Slowly, Leiyn lifted her left arm and stared at where the jackal had savaged it. Blood had stained the armguard around the punctures, but her forearm no longer seared with pain. Not wanting to know, but knowing she had to, she probed inside the holes with a finger.

Her skin was whole, mended but for four small, white scars.

Her heart migrated to her throat. She tried to swallow and found herself devoid of moisture. Not again. Saints and demons, not again.

But if she'd learned one thing training as a ranger, it was that she couldn't deny the truth of her senses.

"Leiyn?"

She quickly withdrew her hand from her arm, guilty as a child caught stealing holy day treats, and looked up to see Tadeo making his way toward her through the brush. His eyes were full of concern as he looked her up and down. His appearance could be intimidating to those who didn't know him, with a prominent brow, a nose broken many times over, and skin as tough as oak, but Leiyn knew better. When he smiled, he transformed into the man who had sheltered her since she was a girl, guiding her from an immature apprentice into a cloaked and seasoned ranger. He didn't smile now, though.

"Are you hurt?" he inquired quietly. She didn't doubt the lodgemaster had registered every spot of blood and tear in her leathers. But instead of investigating the wounds, he only touched a gentle hand to her upper arm.

"Fine." She looked him over in return. "Though you fared better than I."

Truth was, she wasn't sure any of the blood spotting his clothes was his. They seemed no more worn than they usually did, though the lodgemaster did wear trousers until they were more patch than original fabric.

He flashed his usual shy smile. "Experience is the toughest armor."

Leiyn rolled her eyes. "Alright, old man. Now's not the time for a sermon. Experience didn't keep you from stepping on that branch, did it?"

At his wince, Leiyn immediately regretted the words. Tadeo was unfailingly forgiving of others, but the same didn't apply to himself. While he remained the deadliest ranger in the Wilds Lodge, his years were beginning to catch up to him. He couldn't step as nimbly as he once had, and the evening's misstep wasn't his first. In the Titan Wilds, any error could be your last.

The lodgemaster quickly recovered. "I made a mistake, Leiyn; I can admit that. But you shouldn't have drawn them off. What do I always tell you?"

She barked a laugh. "You can hardly call that rash. I saved your life, old man. If I hadn't split their attention, you would have been torn apart."

"As you nearly were?"

Leiyn tried to deny the ice crawling through her veins as she noticed again the abnormal brightness of her lifefire. "We both survived to tell our side. That's good enough for me."

Tadeo eyed her a moment longer, then bowed his head. "Perhaps it is."

While they'd been speaking, she and Tadeo had kept a watch on the remaining Wilds beast. The thorned lion, however, appeared content to lick his wounds and all but ignored them.

She inclined her head toward the body-strewn clearing. "Suppose we'll have to wait to drive this one north?"

Tadeo nodded, studying the lion from the corner of his eye. "Before night falls, we'll retreat. He may feel threatened by us in the darkness. We'll return in the morning. Perhaps he'll be ready by then."

"What about the skins?" She gestured with one of her knives toward the bodies. "Have any use for mangy jackal hides?"

"Once they're cleaned, they'll be serviceable, and we must keep the tusks. But don't skin with your anelaces. Always—"

"—keep your weapons sharp, I know."

They shared a grin, but mirth slipped away as they bent to the task. The conflict had been necessary, and she'd never been one to hesitate at a fight. Yet there was a sadness that came with shedding blood, even for her.

"Your spirit touches mine," she murmured as she cut away hide from sinew, the Ranger's Lament rising of its own volition. "Rest easy, you flea-bitten beasts. Had to be you or me."

Tadeo had long ago instilled the words in her, though she often improvised her own. Still, the Ranger's Lament honored creatures that were only living by their nature but had to die for the rangers to uphold their duty. The Ranger's Oath always came first: to perceive, preserve, and protect the people of the Titan Wilds, as only they could.

Still, the task promised to be a long and smelly one, and with the jackals' stench seeping into her skin, Leiyn already longed for a bath. She thought of the Wilds Lodge and the hot food and comforts it would bring upon their return.

Yet whenever she glimpsed the new scars along her arm or sides, she was reminded of her shame, the curse that could never be washed away. And so, she bent to her task and wished it would be enough to atone for her sins, knowing it never could.

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About the Author

Josiah, aka J.D.L. Rosell, is the author of the Legend of Tal series, the Ranger of the Titan Wilds series, The Runewar Saga, The Famine Cycle series, and the Godslayer Rising trilogy. He has earned an MA in creative writing and has previously worked as a ghostwriter.

Always drawn to the outdoors, Josiah ventures out into nature whenever he can to indulge in his hobbies of archery, hiking, and photography. Most of the time, he can be found playing video games or curled up with a good book at home with his wife and two cats, Zelda and Abenthy.

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