The Dark Epoch: Conception

The Dark Epoch was conceived as both homage and rebellion—a synthesis of beloved genre elements with a deliberate push to subvert well-worn tropes. Though the story flirts with the archetype of the "chosen one," it quickly challenges the reader’s expectations. Prophecy, faith, and fate are never treated as absolutes. Instead, they are dismantled, examined, and reimagined.

Among the most influential inspirations for The Dark Epoch is Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun—not so much in plot as in tone, structure, and thematic layering. Like Wolfe’s magnum opus, The Dark Epoch embraces metaphysical ambiguity, deep philosophical undercurrents, and a world that feels ancient, decaying, and sacred. The emphasis on religious structures, metaphysical speculation, and introspective narrative lends the story a similar weight and sense of mythic complexity.

The theme of a dying world is echoed in The Dark Epoch’s setting of Ecclesium, a realm with two celestial bodies—the DaySun and NightSun. The DaySun is imagined as a traditional burning star. But the NightSun—an object of reverence and dread—is not a sun at all, but the visible signature of a star’s death, a black hole. In one moment of profound symbolism, Genevieve asks Avedis what he believes fuels the NightSun. His answer is chilling in its implication: “Us.” This idea—that human consciousness and the fourth dimension (time) are intimately connected to celestial power—is never overtly explained, but its presence haunts the narrative.

In contrast, the land of OverSun is illuminated by only a single sun, subtly inviting readers to question its location in relation to Ecclesium. The absence of dual suns suggests a different realm—or a separate timeline entirely—reinforcing the novel’s themes of fractured reality and temporal dissonance.

Other significant touchstones include Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings and George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. The comparison lies not in setting or structure, but in tone and moral complexity. Characters in The Dark Epoch are often caught in ideological webs that blur the line between hero and villain. Take the High Eminence, for instance—an antagonist in many eyes, yet a man acting out of genuine belief in the preservation of order. His motivations are not evil for evil’s sake, but grounded in fear, conviction, and the desire to protect what he views as sacred.

This ambiguity extends to figures like Blackvane, whose goals, though seemingly in conflict with Genevieve’s, are no less valid. His fight is born from loss, loyalty, and belief in a different version of salvation. These layered dynamics reflect a world where truth is relative, morality is mutable, and the reader is left to decide what is just.

Of course, some characters still embody archetypal darkness—none more so than Morgolith. Inspired by Sauron, Morgolith represents a defeated force of immense power, exiled to a realm outside of time, awaiting reformation. His presence seeps through the story like a stain. He tempts, manipulates, and whispers through the veil of reality, influencing the weak-willed. But more than just a villain, Morgolith embodies the novel’s thematic centre: fate versus free will. Is destiny imposed, or do we shape it through conscious choice? What does it mean to possess identity, memory, and purpose in a universe that constantly rewrites itself?

The Dark Epoch belongs alongside these great epics not through imitation, but by engaging in a philosophical conversation with them. It asks not only what a fantasy world can be—but what it means to believe in that world, to question it, and to live inside its contradictions.