Review of "Knightfall" by C.L. Embry

Score: 89+/100 (8.9+ out of 10)

Knightfall is a character-centered fantasy novel by C.L. Embry.

We'll say this as a positive: this is a really ambitious book with a lot of substance to work with.
The world-building is ambitious. The characters, especially Axel, show a lot of promise. Oh, and there's even some good humor in here! Seriously, this book has one of the funniest scenes of this contest.

This book involves political drama, fantasy, alchemy (as a sort of magic system and plot device), political intrigue, and even some philosophy and romance.

The issue with all that is... in our opinion, it doesn't seem to hit the mark on either of these things (or in either of these many genres). It isn't focused enough on the politics of the world to be a great political drama. It isn't focused enough on the magic/alchemy system to be a great magical fantasy book. It also isn't focused enough on either the philosophy or romance to be great at those either.

The best way we can describe this book is that it's a medieval-fantasy story about a guy: a guy named Axel. The narrative of this book constantly reminds you that Axel is a thoughtful guy with an overactive mind.

He’s not a grand hero or a chosen one—he’s just a man burdened by self-doubt, old wounds, and an unshakable hunger for meaning in a world that feels increasingly hollow. He kind of reminded us of Jack Morrison from Diablo Canyon mixed with Hamlet from the Shakespeare play... an older, Temu version of Hamlet who should know better.

And that becomes a bit problematic because there are times he thinks and acts like a somewhat-mature adult and times when he thinks and acts like a hormonal 12-year-old who just discovered puberty. Just think about how whiny and needy Hamlet was and you'll get the point.

While others around him drink, fight, or obey without question, Axel thinks. He overanalyzes. He spirals. He remembers everything that’s ever been said to him—every insult, every betrayal, every fleeting moment of connection—and he turns it over like a coin he can’t stop examining. In fact, one of the defining decisions/events in the book is when he decides to reconnect with Ysabelle, the woman to whom he was once betrothed.

In many ways, Axel is the book. His mind becomes the lens through which we experience this broken kingdom, and his emotional weather—restless, searching, cynical yet yearning—colors every interaction, every twist of fate. It’s not always comfortable, but it’s relentlessly human. The story doesn’t just track his rise through the ranks of the BlackGuard; it maps the slow, painful unraveling of a man trying to find truth in a place that punishes honesty and buries the past.

So yes, it’s a medieval fantasy. But more than that, Knightfall is a psychological excavation. And Axel is the shovel.

Something that still befuddles us is how Axel really got on our nerves yet isn't too dissimilar (in concept) to some of our favorite all time characters:

Takeshi from "Lost Blades" by Liz Sauco, Beldrian from "Kindred of the Unseen" by Micah Beardsley, and Natharr from "Crown Prince" by W.D. Kilpack III. Similar to these characters, he's a once-noble guardian whose loyalty and devotion have been challenged by the political turmoil going on around him. On top of that, he's got his own personal demons to deal with. Conceptually, this is a setup for a great character. The problem is, he's lost in this story which doesn't seem to know what it wants to be or where it wants to go. Perhaps it's fitting, granted that Axel himself feels trapped, stuck, and lost for much of this book. Perhaps it's fitting given the fact that Axel himself is indecisive and torn in multiple different directions.

Takeshi, Beldrian, and Natharr were COOL. They were BAD@$$es who would wreck your s%#@. Axel, on the other hand, just seems so mopey and dopey. He's like Squall from Final Fantasy VIII. Yes, he has the potential to be a cool bad@$$ who causes massive damage, but he spends most of the story chasing tail (women), wondering who he is, and having a somewhat juvenile feud with Gunter.

This is a really unusual and strange fantasy book (in our opinion), and that's saying a lot (considering we read a lot of fantasy).

It's not unusual and strange because of a wild or wacky storyline. It's not unusual and strange because of a mindblowing magic system or edgy content.

It's unusual and strange because, for more than half of it, it doesn't seem to have a clear direction, point, or even plot. That largely comes from the book attempting to do too much, lacking focus, and attempting a shotgun approach. There isn't really one definitive plot, instead there are three or four sub-plots, and all of them go back to Axel and him learning life lessons and developing as a person.

The book does salvage some semblance of a plot (or plots) by the end, but it really tested our patience and lost our interests before then. That's not to say that it's bad. That's also not to say that you won't enjoy it. In fact, you might very well enjoy it.

But we constantly found ourselves asking, "Where is this going?" or "What is the point?"
We found ourselves facepalming, saying, "Can we just focus on something and stop jumping around?"

Let us explain. Maybe that'll give you some context about what we mean.

Axel, a disillusioned Watchman, is promoted to the BlackGuard—a supposedly elite military rank. We learn about different "Guards" like Gatekeepers, FrostGuard, and Iceguard, all of which fit in a hierarchy in defending/serving the kingdom. This hierarchy and the drive to gain a promotion causes notable tension with other characters, particularly Gunter.

Gunter is one of the main antagonists of the book. He is Axel's bully and arch-rival, comparable to someone like Gary from the early seasons of Pokemon or Seifer Almasy from Final Fantasy VIII. Let's put it this way: Gunter is a pain in Axel's butt. He's constantly undermining and antagonizing him. Apparently, the two of them grew up together and knew each other as kids.

Gunter does get some character development and explanation for why he is the way he is, but it's not much different from Tony from Chameleon Chronicles: Book One or every major character in Lost: it's daddy issues. Gunter's father was apparently very abusive, and this evokes some pity from Axel.

You could make the argument that Axel's rivalry with Gunter is one of the key plots/sub-plots of this book, and it actually lasts for over three-quarters of it.

Anyway, there are bigger things happening in the kingdom than Axel and Gunter's squabble. Queen Helena's 50th birthday celebration/ball has been announced. The last and only known alchemist, Lucian, has been sentenced to death, apparently taking his secrets to the grave with him. Now, we do get a huge information dump and explanation for what Lucian (and King Otto) were actually up to via Balthazzar, another major character. But for most of the book (before this exposition dump), we were really bewildered as to why we should concern ourselves with the alchemy/Lucian angle.

After all, our characters find themselves chasing tail (because, of course)! That really competed for our attentions and started to make us think: "Is this supposed to be a romantic comedy, not a fantasy novel?"

Speaking of the romantic comedy aspect, one of the funniest sections of the book concerns Baron Vogle’s two “ugly” daughters: Annaliese and Amelia. Both are described with such exaggerated, over-the-top unflattery—missing teeth, squinting eyes, strange proportions—that it feels almost like something out of a Shakespearean farce. The humor comes not just from their appearance, but from the social expectations placed around them: their desperation to marry, their father's oblivious pride, and the awkward, cringing reactions of the men forced to endure their company at courtly events.

What makes the scene even funnier is how it plays off Axel’s dry internal commentary. Already cynical and emotionally frayed, Axel tries to keep a straight face while navigating their flirtations, barely suppressing his horror and sarcasm. It's one of the few moments where the book leans into absurdity and levity, offering a brief but memorable break from the otherwise grim psychological and political tone of the story.

And, to be honest, we felt bad for Annaliese and Amelia. That's an achievement: the author and the book got us to feel something for these characters. Annaliese says that her father told her she inherited his "ugly face" instead of her mother's. Amelia is self-conscious about being "fat" but can't seem to stop overeating. That's very relatable and quite sad. Maybe she does have an eating disorder or even something like Prader-Willi's syndrome.

The book gradually builds the idea that a lot of the barons in the kingdom are potential usurpers to the throne. However, this also highlights the king's paranoia and powerhungriness which may have contributed to Lucian's fate.

It’s actually more like a spiritual and psychological transformation of the self. The ancient Laws of Balthazzar—like the Law of Rhythm and the Law of Mental Alchemy—frame alchemy as a system for mastering inner balance, transcending emotional chaos, and attuning oneself to the hidden order of the universe.

It’s not about making money. It’s about remaking the self.

Gold becomes symbolic—not literal. To truly "transmute" something is to change its essence, to purify your inner state, to shed layers of illusion and shadow until you reach something true. Lucian and the other alchemists aren't sorcerers trying to get rich; they’re philosophers, seekers of harmony. And in a kingdom built on repression, ego, and control, that kind of truth is the most dangerous thing of all.

Gosh, you know what would've been really cool? If most of this information wasn't just held onto, then dumped on the reader more than half way through.

Oh, and by the way, those aren't even all the major plots in this book. Remember when we said that this book attempts to be a romance?

Well, meet Ysabelle, the woman to whom Axel was once betrothed (as we mentioned before). To be fair, Ysabelle is more than just a pretty face or someone to be desired. She's actually a decent person. Oh, and she's apparently a great cook/baker! Her apple turnips are some of the best in the lands, and she actually gets into a squabble with a rival apple-turnip-maker over her secret recipe.

So, anyway, to reiterate: our main issue with this book was the lack of focus. There were too many sub-plots demanding our attention:

King Otto and the court politics
The Baron and his daughters
The rivalry with Gunter
Balthazzar, Lucian, and the forbidden art of alchemy
The relationship with Ysabelle

Oh, and by the way, Ysabelle isn't Axel's only love interest. There are more sub-plots involving the others.

So, what are we supposed to focus on? It really does seem like a lot of good ideas that got mushed together. We admire the author for trying and think that it's definitely ambitious.

Check it out on Amazon!