With Faithbreaker, Hannah Kaner concludes her Fallen Gods trilogy with a resonance that burns, bruises, and ultimately redeems. From the god-slaying grit of Godkiller to the haunting introspection of Sunbringer, and now to this volatile conclusion, Kaner brings her narrative home with mythic scope, emotional acuity, and raw, spiritual stakes. It is a war story, a story of broken allegiances and reforged bonds, of divine ruin and mortal resilience. And though the path is bloody, the storytelling never wavers.
Let’s dive deep into the book’s world, characters, writing style, and the final reckoning of faith that Kaner delivers with her signature lyrical fire.
The Fallen Gods Trilogy: A Quick Revisit
Before we delve into Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner, it’s essential to understand the groundwork:
- Godkiller introduced us to Kissen, the veiga with a vendetta, the endearing noble child Inara, and the quietly suffering knight Elogast. It was a road novel, a chase, a death march through a world scarred by divine rebellion.
- Sunbringer deepened the mythology. Power fragmented. Friendships fractured. The characters were pushed into separate directions, each facing mirrors of their past mistakes and future hopes.
- Faithbreaker? It is war. Not just against gods, but against one another. This book does not tread gently on hearts.
Plot Overview: The Reckoning of Belief
In Faithbreaker, Middren is aflame. Hseth, the fire god reborn for war, is leading a brutal march south. The land’s survival depends on whether fractured loyalties can be mended before the fire consumes everything.
- Kissen, ever the outsider, is searching not only for her sisters but for her place in a world she doesn’t trust. Her journey across sea and heartland becomes a reluctant reckoning with belonging and sacrifice.
- Inara, no longer a child, seeks to understand her power and the meaning of her god-bond with Skediceth, the god of white lies. Her coming-of-age is turbulent, filled with betrayal, identity, and a love-hate dance with divinity.
- Elogast wrestles with his past and his feelings for King Arren, trying to thread the needle between loyalty, guilt, and the ghosts of rebellion.
- Arren, perhaps the most tragic figure in the trilogy, is both king and pawn. A man kept alive by divine fire and shadowed by the choices that could bring salvation or ruin.
As the armies march and gods stir, alliances old and new shape the battlefield. But the real war, as ever in Kaner’s world, is the one fought in hearts and minds.
Characters: Threaded With Flame and Flesh
Kaner’s characters are not mere archetypes draped in fantasy tropes. They are people—damaged, proud, resilient. And in Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner, each one is tested to their breaking point.
Kissen
Kissen remains the soul of the story. A godkiller forged by trauma and held together by grit. In this book, she is both anchor and compass, especially to Inara and Elo. Her sharp tongue is matched by a guarded softness. Her disability isn’t just part of her identity—it’s written with respect, humanity, and metaphorical weight.
Inara
The true “faithbreaker” might be Inara. The girl who once wandered with gods in her pocket is now a young woman forced to confront betrayal, power, and faith—particularly in herself. Her arc is both tender and seismic. The scene with Tarin… it devastates.
Elogast
Elo is perhaps the novel’s emotional fault line. His unresolved feelings for Arren, his self-loathing, and his attempts at atonement create some of the book’s most heartbreaking moments. His masculinity is quiet, vulnerable, and utterly captivating.
Arren
King, victim, villain. Kaner refuses to give us a clean read on Arren. And thank the gods for that. Arren’s narrative swings from divine puppet to dangerous idealist. His political maneuvers, his tragic tie to Hestra, and his desperate grasp for love—especially with Elo—are painfully real.
Writing Style: Divine in Tone, Mortal in Texture
Hannah Kaner’s prose is a balm and a blade. She blends the ornate rhythms of high fantasy with the visceral immediacy of modern storytelling. You feel the mud under boots, the sharpness of loss, the whisper of gods. Every sentence in Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner hums with intention.
She leans into sensuality without veering into romantic cliché, often using physical proximity—between Kissen and Elo, Elo and Arren, Inara and her mother—as an axis of power, vulnerability, and tension. Her dialogue is razor-sharp, often soaked in subtext. And her use of colors and “faith-shimmer” as metaphors for emotion or belief adds a poetic layer that remains uniquely hers.
Themes: Faith, Betrayal, and the Price of Power
1. Faith and Doubt
As the title suggests, faith is central—not just in gods, but in people, nations, and ideals. The novel constantly asks: What do we put our trust in? And at what cost?
2. Power and Agency
Whether divine or mortal, power comes with consequences. Lessa’s compromises, Arren’s manipulation of symbols, and Inara’s divine link—all reflect the weight of wielding control, even with good intentions.
3. Found Family vs. Blood
The tensions between biological ties and chosen alliances run deep. Kissen’s detachment from blood and her bond with Elo and Inara is one side. Inara’s longing for maternal connection and the ghost of betrayal is another. These dynamics feel honest and painfully grounded.
4. Queerness as Power, Not Just Identity
The queerness in Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner is refreshingly embedded. Elo and Arren’s unspoken ache, the fluidity of connection between characters—it’s identity as texture, not spectacle.
What Worked Brilliantly
- Character Arcs: Everyone grows, regresses, and grows again. Especially Inara and Elo.
- Queer Representation: Organic, nuanced, and never tokenized.
- Moral Complexity: No easy heroes. No tidy endings. Just people making hard choices.
- Worldbuilding Payoff: The gods, the shrines, the politics—they all culminate in a rich, believable world in turmoil.
- Emotional Depth: Several moments, especially involving Tarin and Kissen’s farewell to Legs, cut deep and linger long after.
What Could Have Been Stronger
- Pacing Issues: Some middle sections, particularly the buildup to the final battle, felt slowed by political repositioning. While Kaner is strong at emotional interiors, the war-room strategies sometimes dragged.
- Underused Gods: For a book titled Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner, some of the divine entities—particularly Hestra—felt more symbolic than active by the finale. More direct godly confrontation could have added firepower.
- Climactic Resolution: The ending delivers emotional payoff, but some readers may crave a more definitive closure in a war this grand.
Comparable Titles & Audience Recommendation
Fans of:
- Tasha Suri’s The Burning Kingdoms
- Samantha Shannon’s The Priory of the Orange Tree
- N.K. Jemisin’s The Broken Earth
will find themselves at home here.
If you love:
- Lush, morally grey fantasy
- High-stakes storytelling with emotional realism
- Queer narratives and powerful female protagonists
then the Fallen Gods trilogy should be your next read.
Final Thoughts: A War of Gods, But a Story of Humans
Faithbreaker isn’t just a finale—it’s a reckoning. Hannah Kaner doesn’t give us neat resolutions, but something better: the promise that belief, however fractured, is still worth fighting for.
It’s a story that lingers in the marrow. Not because it’s perfect, but because it dares to break its own world to reveal what’s truly holy—love, sacrifice, and the terrifying power of choice.
A Note on the ARC
I was incredibly fortunate to receive an Advanced Reader Copy of Faithbreaker by Hannah Kaner in exchange for an honest review. And honesty demands I say: this book didn’t just conclude a trilogy—it cracked open the very meaning of faith in fantasy fiction. Kaner’s storytelling has grown with her characters, and though the journey ends, the gods, the people, and their broken faith live on in me.
