Beginnings

About This Audiobook

W.J. May’s *Beginnings* isn’t just another prequel—it’s a visceral dive into the messy, bloodstained birth of a fantasy world. Set centuries before her *Five Kingdoms* series, this audiobook strips away polished royalty to reveal a realm where fae lords scheme like gods and mortal alliances fracture under the weight of ancient grudges. The prose crackles with the energy of a campfire tale told by someone who’s seen too much: brutal, lyrical in bursts, and unflinching in its portrayal of power’s cost. Zac Smith’s narration leans into this rawness, his voice a gravel-edged blade that slices through the political maneuvering without ever slipping into melodrama. What sets this apart is its refusal to romanticize—even the dragons here feel less like majestic symbols and more like forces of nature you’d cross the street to avoid.

The audiobook’s strength lies in its *pacing*—not the breakneck kind, but the deliberate, almost predatory build of a story that knows its world’s fate hinges on these early, ugly choices. Smith’s performance mirrors this: his cadence slows during the fae’s honeyed threats, then snaps tight during battle scenes, making the contrast between courtly poison and open warfare physically jarring. Listen for the way he voices the protagonist’s exhaustion—not just in the words, but in the way his breath seems to run short after a monologue. It’s a small touch that sells the stakes. This isn’t a tale of heroes yet; it’s about the people who *become* them, or fail trying."

"review": "I’ll admit, I approached *Beginnings* skeptical of yet another ‘how the legend started’ fantasy—until the first chapter gut-punched me with a fae lord casually ordering an execution over spilled wine. This isn’t a story about destiny; it’s about the grime under the nails of history, and Zac Smith’s narration makes you *feel* it. His voice has this rough-hewn quality, like a soldier who’s seen too many winters, which works brilliantly for the mortal characters but occasionally feels *too* grounded for the ethereal fae. (A touch more vocal whimsy in those scenes might’ve heightened the contrast.) The real standout is how he handles the dragons—not with the usual booming grandeur, but with a guttural, almost bestial growl that makes them feel like living storms rather than mythic props.

The production itself is clean, though I docked it half a star for a few odd pacing choices in the first act. The political intrigue drags in audio where it might skim faster in print, and Smith’s deliberate delivery sometimes exacerbates this. That said, the payoff is worth it: the second half’s betrayals and battles land like hammer blows, especially a mid-book ambush where the sound design (subtle, but present) amplifies the chaos. My biggest critique? The female leads occasionally blur together in Smith’s performance—their voices lack distinct timbres, which muddies a few key emotional beats. Still, this is a rare prequel that *earns* its weight, not by teasing future events, but by making you care about the blood and bad decisions that built them. If you love your fantasy with more teeth than tiaras, this one’s for you."

"tags": [
"dark fae politics audiobook