In Sunbringer, the second installment of Hannah Kaner’s Fallen Gods trilogy, the story begun in Godkiller stretches into even darker, richer territory. Kaner, who burst onto the fantasy scene with her bestselling debut, returns not merely to expand her world but to deepen it—to thrust her characters into the crucible of trauma, politics, faith, and fractured loyalties. The result is a novel that is mythic in ambition, lyrical in its prose, and potent in its emotional weight.
While Sunbringer doesn’t quite reach the explosive clarity of Godkiller‘s introductory pace, it does something rarer: it matures. Like the gods it questions, the novel becomes something new—an aching meditation on power and sacrifice cloaked in the adrenaline of battle and the shimmer of divine myth.
World of the God-Touched: A Universe That Breathes
Kaner’s universe is beautifully built—not just in terms of geography, but theology. Gods here are not omnipotent celestial beings, but hungry creatures born from human faith, twisted by belief, and killed by doubt. Each shrine, each whispered prayer, gives form to deities that are as flawed as the mortals who make them.
In Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner, the world grows not by exposition but by lived experience. From the sea-god Osidisen’s windswept cove to the political rot of Middren’s throne, Kaner reveals cultures layered with ritual, belief, betrayal, and loss. Her cities are not maps—they are characters, bruised and burning with the scars of war and the tremors of impending revolution.
Plot: Where Myths Collide with Mortals
At its heart, Sunbringer is a tale of unraveling loyalties.
Kissen, the titular godkiller, is presumed dead—but instead finds herself saved (once again) by a god she both despises and owes. Her survival forces a reckoning with grief, duty, and identity.
Inara, the young noble with secret god-linked power, begins to shed her innocence. Her magic—still mysterious, still overwhelming—has a new edge, one that could alter the fate of empires.
Elogast, the once-loyal knight turned traitor, carries both guilt and the weight of broken promises. His arc—wounded, contemplative, and loyal—continues to be the emotional backbone of the series.
Meanwhile, Arren—the boy-king turned Sunbringer—spirals into divine delusion, hungry for faith and haunted by fire. With Hestra lodged in his chest, he seeks not just rule but godhood. His unraveling is terrifying and tragic.
The story branches and reunites like the roots of a godtree. Characters we met in Godkiller now clash with one another, not as friends but as ideologies in motion. The final chapters bring devastating clarity, and while not all threads tie into neat bows, they tighten the noose for what’s to come in Faithbreaker.
Characters: Broken Heroes in a Shattered World
1. Kissen
Kissen remains the fierce, complex heart of the series. Her PTSD and trauma are not accessories—they are her bones. In Sunbringer, she’s not just the godkiller, but a woman fractured by loyalty and grief. Her interactions with Osidisen and her reluctant return to faith (even if only in gods she hates) mark a powerful evolution. Her body is damaged, her resolve sharper than ever.
2. Inara
Once a gentle, mysterious child, Inara grows into something both wondrous and terrifying. She becomes the moral compass of the novel—not because she always knows what’s right, but because she still believes in the idea of right. Her bond with Skediceth, the god of white lies, remains one of the series’ most subtle and touching threads.
3. Elogast
A warrior-turned-father figure, Elogast is the lens through which we see regret, responsibility, and redemption. His wounds are not just physical but deeply ethical. His choices hurt others—but never without consequence. In many ways, he is the closest thing to a tragic hero Kaner offers.
4. Arren / Sunbringer
Perhaps the most fascinating transformation in this book belongs to King Arren. Where Godkiller painted him as a fractured monarch, Sunbringer delivers his divine rebirth—a chilling portrait of ambition, isolation, and the lies gods tell their chosen. He is horrifying, magnetic, pathetic, and enthralling all at once.
Writing Style: The Poetry of Pain and Power
Kaner’s prose is brutal and beautiful. She writes like a mythmaker: every sentence feels deliberate, soaked in metaphor, elemental and aching. Her style adapts to character—choppy and sharp with Kissen, elegant and erudite with Arren, lyrical and pained with Inara. There’s a bard’s rhythm to her dialogue, often tinged with sorrow, wit, or prophecy.
“Stories bind hope and love to make it faith.”
Lines like this echo long after the page is turned. Kaner doesn’t waste words. She crafts them.
Themes: Faith, Power, and the Birth of Gods
Faith as Currency:
What elevates Sunbringer from mere sword-and-sorcery is its philosophical underpinning. Faith here is not about belief—it’s about power. What happens when people believe in you too much? What happens when they stop?
Mortality and Divinity:
Kaner asks hard questions: Do gods deserve reverence? Can mortals become divine? And what does it mean to be truly godless in a world built on gods?
Queerness and Belonging:
The series continues to offer natural, powerful LGBTQ representation. It’s not a headline—it’s part of the fabric. Kissen’s bisexuality, Elogast’s emotional complexity, and Inara’s found family journey speak volumes without posturing.
Sacrifice and Storytelling:
The myths that shape gods are echoed in the choices of mortals. Kissen sacrifices herself for love, Inara risks herself for truth, and Arren becomes a god not through divinity—but through narrative.
What Works Well
Immersive prose that balances myth with human struggle.
Deep, evolving characters who change based on choices, not tropes.
Complex theology that respects the reader’s intellect.
Tight emotional stakes that never let up.
Balanced representation of disability, queerness, and trauma.
Where the Flame Flickers: Minor Critiques
While Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner is a gripping continuation, it’s not without flaws:
Pacing Lulls:
The middle third occasionally meanders, particularly in Lesscia. While these chapters develop character, they slightly stall momentum.
Mythical Density:
Kaner assumes readers remember intricate details from Godkiller. For newcomers or those who haven’t recently re-read Book 1, the lore may feel overwhelming.
Skediceth’s Underuse:
The trickster god of white lies is charming and thematically vital, yet often relegated to comic relief or side exposition. His arc feels a touch underexplored.
Cliffhanger Overload:
As a mid-trilogy novel, Sunbringer leans heavily on unresolved threads. The setup for Faithbreaker is exciting—but some readers may crave more resolution.
Comparison & Context: Where It Stands
If Godkiller introduced readers to a bold new fantasy world, Sunbringer by Hannah Kaner is its spiritual reckoning. The novel can be compared favorably with:
The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon (politics and mythology)
The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang (trauma and godhood)
For the Wolf by Hannah Whitten (divine femininity and personal sacrifice)
But Kaner’s voice remains uniquely hers—cut from old myth cloth but stitched anew for modern sensibilities.
Final Thoughts: A Tale to Follow, A God to Fear
Sunbringer is not just a bridge between Godkiller and the upcoming Faithbreaker. It is a storm unto itself—howling with loss, blazing with ambition, and weeping with mortal grief. Kaner continues to prove that fantasy can be both epic and intimate, mythic and raw.
This is a book for readers who believe fantasy should interrogate power, not just wield it. For those who want gods that bleed, heroes who fail, and prose that sings.
Related Reads & What’s Next
Read Before: Godkiller by Hannah Kaner
Read After: Faithbreaker (coming soon!)
Also Recommended:
The Bone Shard Daughter by Andrea Stewart
She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan
The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon
Final Verdict: Should You Read Sunbringer?
Absolutely—if you’re already invested in Godkiller, Sunbringer will ignite that love deeper. New readers should begin with Book 1 to feel the full emotional gravity. Kaner is crafting more than a story—she’s building a mythology, and Sunbringer burns at its heart.