Anathema by Keri Lake Summary, Characters and Themes
Anathema by Keri Lake is the first book in The Eating Woods Duology, a gothic dark fantasy novel that takes us into a world of forbidden magic, curses, and a slow-burn romance. It follows two souls—Maevyth, a young woman trapped in a society ruled by superstition and divine cruelty, and Zevander, a cursed immortal forged from black fire and blood.
Both are bound by powers beyond comprehension and haunted by the sins of their ancestors. Their paths converge through death, desire, and prophecy, unearthing ancient forces that blur the line between godhood and damnation. The story explores love and ruin amid a decaying world where faith itself has become a weapon.
Summary
The tale begins over two hundred years ago with Lady Rydainn, who carries her infant son Zevander to the volcanic vein of Sablefyre, a divine fire now corrupted into darkness. Her family is enslaved by Cadavros, a Magelord who demands her children’s blood in exchange for protection.
Rydainn’s eldest son, Branimir, has already been twisted into a monstrous form by the black flame, and now Cadavros claims the younger child. The ritual he performs fails disastrously—Zevander survives the fire, marked by molten gold eyes and cursed sigils.
Cadavros is burned, and the prophecy etched into Zevander’s flesh warns, “What is taken will never return. ” Rydainn realizes the power unleashed is beyond mortal control.
Centuries later, the story moves to Foxglove Parish, a village shadowed by Witch Knell—the haunted forest where exiles are sent to die. Maevyth Bronwick, mourning her missionary father’s death, lives under the tyranny of her step-grandmother Agatha.
Orphaned women like her are condemned to marriage or servitude in the temple of the Red God. In grief and rebellion, Maevyth defaces her father’s death notice, writing that the god is false.
Her defiance awakens something ancient—the words change to “God is Death,” and a spectral voice calls her name. Her blood stains the cursed archway, sealing her fate.
During a public execution, a condemned man grabs her and repeats the same ominous words before being dragged into the forest by unseen forces. Villagers whisper that Maevyth is cursed.
Soon after, Agatha arranges for her to marry Mr. Moros, a wealthy but cruel magnate, to pay off family debts.
Trapped between servitude and death, Maevyth reluctantly agrees, hoping to protect her sister Aleysia. As her despair deepens, strange occurrences plague her: whispers from the woods, a wounded arm that festers with black and silver fluid, and visions of the dead.
When she buries a raven by the forest, she unknowingly seals her bond with the dark powers beneath it.
Far away, Zevander—now known as the Lord of Eidolon—lives as an assassin bound to the Sablefyre that once spared his life. He hunts bloodlines to forge bloodstones, each representing a divine essence.
His mission is to complete the Septomir, a relic that might cleanse his curse. Guided by the drunken mage Dolion, he seeks the final bloodline hidden in the mortal realm of Mortasia.
His path reveals his tormented existence—haunted by the Bellatryx, who once enslaved him, and by the monstrous remains of his brother Branimir. Despite his hardened nature, he shows glimpses of compassion, rescuing a child named Gavroche before returning to his fortress, Eidolon, where he imprisons his addicted sister Rykaia for her safety.
Maevyth’s life unravels further as the infection in her arm transforms into a silver scar and changes one of her eyes to silver. She unearths a strange egg in the forest and is told by the Crone Witch that it is “her penance—a life for death.”
Forced into her engagement with Moros, she encounters the cruelty of his enslaved household and realizes her marriage will be a prison. Unbeknownst to her, Zevander’s mission to claim the final bloodline draws him closer, for Maevyth herself may hold the essence he seeks.
When the two meet, their worlds collide.
Maevyth’s curiosity and defiance clash with Zevander’s cold restraint.
Though he imprisons her for her safety, she learns from Rykaia about glyphs—symbols that channel magical power—and discovers her own ability to command them. Her raw strength astonishes Zevander, especially when she accidentally conjures major glyphs beyond her understanding.
He begins to train her, uncovering her mysterious lineage connected to the ancient goddess Morsana and the Corvikae bloodline. Through visions and scrying, Maevyth learns her sister is still alive, and her purpose becomes entwined with Zevander’s cursed destiny.
Their uneasy partnership softens into intimacy as they share fragments of their broken pasts. Zevander, burdened by guilt and centuries of torment, finds solace in her compassion.
Maevyth, once powerless, begins to embrace her strength. When she explores his fortress, she encounters dark creatures, ghostly remnants called Deimosi, and discovers magical relics linked to her ancestors.
Her curiosity leads her into forbidden chambers where ancient books animate and whisper forgotten histories. Each revelation binds her deeper into the world Zevander has long tried to escape.
Amid growing tension, their bond becomes undeniable. In a secluded hovel after a ritual known as The Becoming Ceremony, they confess their fears and desires.
Their vulnerability leads to passion, and Zevander’s dark fire responds to their union. For the first time, he experiences peace rather than pain.
But their moment of intimacy is shadowed by the ancient being Cadavros, who reappears as a monstrous presence offering Zevander dominion in exchange for allegiance. When Zevander refuses, Cadavros reveals their souls are entwined—if one dies, so will the other—and curses him with hallucinatory visions urging him to kill Maevyth.
Possessed by this dark influence, Zevander collapses into madness. Maevyth tends to him, discovering scars and cruel piercings left by centuries of torture.
Desperate, she seeks help but finds only death—Elowen, a woman who tries to aid her, transforms into a monster. In panic, Maevyth unleashes a surge of black power that disintegrates Elowen, marking her with a new glyph—the sign of death itself.
Terrified of what she has become, she hides beside the unconscious Zevander as creatures close in on their refuge.
Trapped in his nightmare, Zevander dreams of killing Maevyth under Cadavros’s control. Her voice pierces through the illusion, calling him back.
He awakens, freed by her presence, his soul tethered to hers. In anguish and awe, he confesses his fears of losing control again, but she refuses to abandon him.
Their connection deepens—she accepts his darkness, and he finds redemption in her light. They reaffirm their bond in body and spirit, aware that their fates are now inseparable.
Their fragile peace is shattered by a final revelation. As Maevyth searches for food, she uncovers a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards.
Inside lies her sister Aleysia—alive but unconscious. The discovery binds the two women’s destinies to Zevander’s curse and to the ancient prophecy that began centuries earlier in the fire of Sablefyre.
The circle that began with blood and flame is poised to close, as love, death, and the gods themselves converge upon their world.

Characters
Zevander
Zevander, the central figure of Anathema, is both a victim and embodiment of the novel’s dark mythos. Born of divine fire and cursed blood, his life begins as a tragedy forged by others’ greed and fear.
As the Lord of Eidolon, he carries the burden of immortality—an existence fueled by the sablefyre that devours his soul from within. Despite his monstrous reputation, Zevander’s core remains profoundly human.
His rage, guilt, and yearning for redemption shape his every action. The curse that grants him power also isolates him, forcing him to live as an assassin and outcast.
Beneath his stoicism lies a man fractured by trauma: tortured by the Solassions, haunted by his family’s ruin, and desperate to find freedom from his curse. His encounters with Maevyth reveal a gentler self—one capable of tenderness and love—but his fear of losing control constantly wars against that vulnerability.
Through Zevander, Keri Lake explores themes of damnation, identity, and the duality of creation and destruction, making him the embodiment of both divine punishment and reluctant heroism.
Maevyth Bronwick (Maeve)
Maevyth serves as the novel’s moral and emotional compass, a woman caught between oppressive faith and forbidden magic. Found as a child on the edge of Witch Knell, her mysterious origins foreshadow her role as a bridge between mortality and divinity.
Initially naive and bound by societal constraints, Maevyth’s transformation mirrors her awakening to power and selfhood. Her defiance against the Red God’s dogma and her compassion—seen in acts like burying the raven—set her apart from the corrupted world around her.
As she endures betrayal, loss, and physical metamorphosis, she grows from a frightened girl into a figure of resilience and spiritual depth. Her relationship with Zevander evolves from fear to trust, symbolizing the union of mortal and cursed bloodlines.
Maevyth’s newfound abilities and mysterious lineage suggest she is both salvation and doom, carrying within her the remnants of forgotten gods. Through her journey, Anathema questions faith, destiny, and the meaning of divinity in a world consumed by decay.
Lady Rydainn
Lady Rydainn’s presence in Anathema may be brief, but her actions set the tragedy in motion. As the mother of Zevander and Branimir, she embodies sacrifice and maternal despair.
Forced into an impossible bargain with Cadavros, she represents the helpless nobility trapped between political fear and supernatural manipulation. Her decision to surrender her sons to the mage’s rituals is not born of cruelty but of desperation.
The anguish she feels upon witnessing Zevander’s transformation—the divine fire marking him as both cursed and chosen—defines her character. In her, the reader witnesses the novel’s recurring motif of “the cost of power.
” Rydainn’s love survives even as her family is destroyed, making her one of the most tragic figures in the story—a mother who births both a savior and a weapon.
Cadavros
Cadavros, the banished Magelord, functions as Anathema’s prime agent of corruption. A master of forbidden sorcery, he embodies the perversion of divine power.
His ambition to harness sablefyre—an ancient and uncontrollable force—reveals his obsession with dominion over life and death. Though outwardly a villain, Cadavros is more than a simple antagonist; he is the philosophical counterpoint to Zevander.
Both are shaped by the same flame, yet where Zevander seeks release, Cadavros seeks control. His return as a monstrous entity centuries later—still manipulating mortals through pestilence and possession—cements him as the embodiment of the endless cycle of decay that plagues the world.
Through Cadavros, the novel critiques humanity’s hunger for godhood and the inevitable ruin that follows.
Branimir
Branimir, Zevander’s elder brother, is a tragic mirror to what Zevander could have become. Twisted into monstrosity by sablefyre’s corruption, he is both victim and symbol of lost humanity.
His telepathic bond with spiders and his hunger for flesh mark his descent into primal chaos. Yet fragments of his former self—his affection for Zevander and his suffering—linger beneath the madness.
Branimir’s fate reflects the consequences of their parents’ pact and underscores the recurring idea that power without balance destroys its bearer. In his grotesque existence, the reader sees a warning of what Zevander continually fears: to lose not only control but also the last shred of soul that defines him.
Rykaia
Rykaia, Zevander’s sister, represents the ravages of trauma and the difficulty of healing in a corrupted world. Once noble, she succumbs to addiction and degradation, embodying despair rather than villainy.
Her relationship with Zevander is fraught with pain and affection; he seeks to protect her, while she embodies his guilt over his family’s destruction. Despite her weakness, Rykaia offers moments of clarity and compassion, particularly in her mentorship of Maevyth.
Teaching her glyphs and the nature of power, she bridges the human and magical worlds. Through Rykaia, Anathema portrays how cycles of suffering perpetuate even within families, and how redemption often demands confronting one’s own brokenness.
Aleysia
Aleysia, Maevyth’s sister, serves as a foil to Maevyth’s compassion. Impulsive and emotionally volatile, she reacts to their shared oppression with rebellion and recklessness.
Her entanglement with their uncle Riftyn and her inability to see danger in his manipulation reflect her desperate need for freedom and affection. Yet beneath her defiance lies loyalty—her willingness to protect Maevyth even at personal cost.
Her eventual fate, discovered beneath the cottage floor, deepens the novel’s exploration of sacrifice, survival, and the haunting consequences of corrupted love. Aleysia’s character is a study in the fragility of innocence within a world governed by cruelty and superstition.
Agatha
Agatha is the embodiment of patriarchal cruelty filtered through matriarchal power. As Maevyth and Aleysia’s step-grandmother, she uses religion and fear to maintain control.
Her decision to sell Maevyth into marriage and her constant invocation of divine punishment make her both tyrant and zealot. Yet her cruelty stems from survival within a society that rewards obedience to oppressive faith.
Agatha’s manipulation and cold pragmatism expose how power systems turn victims into perpetrators. In Anathema, she symbolizes the internalization of religious corruption—how blind devotion can justify any act of inhumanity.
Dolion
Dolion, once a revered mage and now a drunkard, offers a cynical wisdom that contrasts with Zevander’s grim determination. As mentor and confidant, he bridges the worlds of knowledge and decay, providing the lore behind bloodstones and the Septomir.
Beneath his bitterness lies a man broken by guilt and failed ideals. His mentorship of Zevander is marked by both affection and manipulation; he aids the cursed assassin not entirely out of altruism but to atone for his own complicity in the world’s corruption.
Through Dolion, the novel reflects on the futility of intellect without morality, and the tragic cost of enlightenment gained too late.
Mr. Moros
Mr. Moros epitomizes human hypocrisy cloaked in civility.
A wealthy magnate whose charm masks cruelty, he represents the social corruption that mirrors the novel’s supernatural darkness. His exploitation of servants and his desire to possess Maevyth illustrate the theme of ownership—of bodies, will, and destiny.
Moros’s household, filled with enslaved and abused individuals, serves as a microcosm of the world’s rot. Through him, Anathema equates societal power with spiritual decay, blurring the line between human sin and demonic influence.
The Crone Witch
The Crone Witch operates as a liminal figure—neither benevolent nor malevolent, but bound to the balance between life and death. Her cryptic guidance to Maevyth marks her as a keeper of forbidden truths, possibly an agent of ancient deities like Morsana.
Her warning that the egg is Maevyth’s “penance—a life for death” frames her as both oracle and judge. She symbolizes nature’s dark wisdom, the kind that demands sacrifice rather than offering comfort.
Through her, Anathema connects the mortal realm to forgotten divinity, suggesting that salvation and damnation are merely reflections of the same cosmic truth.
Gavroche
Gavroche, the spindling boy Zevander rescues, embodies innocence surviving amid corruption. Born without magic, he stands as an outcast in a world obsessed with power.
His loyalty and curiosity contrast Zevander’s cynicism, reminding the assassin of humanity’s capacity for kindness. Though a minor character, Gavroche’s presence humanizes Zevander and underscores the idea that compassion—not magic—is the rarest and most dangerous power of all.
Themes
Faith and Corruption
The narrative of Anathema unfolds in a world where faith, once meant to anchor hope and morality, has decayed into a tool of control. The oppressive cult of the Red God dominates the mortal realm, using religion as a means of subjugation rather than salvation.
In Foxglove Parish, faith is not a refuge but a weapon—one that justifies cruelty, misogyny, and hypocrisy. The clergy’s rituals, such as the Banishing, cloak barbaric violence in sacred ceremony.
The citizens, manipulated by fear of divine retribution, surrender to superstition and blind obedience. Through Maevyth’s defiance of the Red God’s authority, the story questions the sanctity of institutions that demand faith without compassion.
Her blasphemous act—writing “The Red God isn’t real”—becomes both rebellion and revelation, sparking a transformation that reveals divinity’s darker side. The phrase “God is Death” reflects a world where worship consumes rather than redeems, exposing how power disguises itself as piety.
On the opposite end stands Zevander, whose existence is shaped by corrupted divinity—the Sablefyre, once divine flame, now a curse. Together, their arcs explore how belief can both sustain and destroy, depending on who wields it.
Faith becomes a mirror reflecting the moral decay of a society that mistakes domination for devotion, and Anathema exposes how easily holiness can be twisted into horror when stripped of empathy.
Power and Sacrifice
Power in Anathema is never pure; it is purchased through suffering, blood, and irreversible loss. From Zevander’s transformation as an infant in the Sablefyre to Maevyth’s infection that brands her with divine markings, the story presents power as an inheritance of pain.
Lady Rydainn’s desperate bargain for her family’s protection mirrors the generational cost of seeking strength in a world ruled by gods and monsters. Zevander’s immortality is both weapon and wound, forcing him to kill others to preserve himself.
His quest to collect bloodstones blurs the boundary between salvation and damnation, showing how desperation for control often becomes its own form of enslavement. For Maevyth, power manifests through resistance—against her grandmother’s authority, against religious tyranny, and later against the fear of her own evolving abilities.
Both characters embody a truth that the pursuit of power, whether through faith, magic, or defiance, always extracts something vital—innocence, humanity, or love. Even divine forces demand sacrifice, and every act of strength leaves scars.
The novel uses this cycle to question whether true liberation can exist without loss, suggesting that redemption often requires surrendering what one values most.
Identity and Transformation
Transformation lies at the heart of Anathema, shaping every major character’s journey. Zevander, once a helpless child, becomes a vessel of divine corruption, his humanity constantly eroded by the black flame.
His struggle is not just against his curse but against the identity it forces upon him—a monster forged from divine failure. Similarly, Maevyth undergoes a metamorphosis that bridges mortality and divinity.
Her body becomes the battleground for forces beyond comprehension, her wounds turning into sigils of power. Both are marked by something greater than themselves, yet their responses differ: Zevander hides behind his mask, clinging to restraint, while Maevyth learns to confront what she has become.
The story treats transformation as both curse and awakening—a painful shedding of imposed identities. In a world where bloodlines define worth, both protagonists must unlearn inherited shame and reclaim selfhood on their own terms.
Through their evolution, Anathema reflects on how identity is not fixed but forged through trial, and how survival often means embracing the very changes one fears. Transformation, in this sense, becomes a reclamation of agency against forces that seek to define, bind, and erase.
Love and Redemption
Love in Anathema does not arrive as tenderness but as defiance against despair. Maevyth and Zevander’s relationship grows from mutual wariness into a fragile, consuming bond that challenges the world’s cruelty.
Their intimacy, shadowed by curses and mortality, becomes an act of rebellion against the gods who shaped their suffering. Zevander’s love for Maevyth redeems his perception of himself as unworthy, while Maevyth’s acceptance of his monstrousness redefines what it means to love beyond fear.
Their connection transcends physical desire—it becomes a sanctuary from the endless cycle of punishment and guilt. Yet redemption is not simple; it demands facing the darkness that both carry.
Their union forces Zevander to confront his rage and Maevyth to accept the destructive potential of her power. Even surrounded by death and corruption, their love suggests that redemption is possible—not through divine forgiveness but through human compassion.
It reclaims meaning in a world abandoned by gods, turning intimacy into resistance. The tenderness between them restores fragments of their broken selves, proving that love, though fragile, remains the last surviving miracle amid ruin.
The Cycle of Death and Rebirth
Death is omnipresent in Anathema, but it is rarely final. From the cursed resurrection of Zevander as an immortal assassin to Maevyth’s own deathlike transformation, mortality is a recurring threshold rather than an ending.
The phrase “What is taken will never return” echoes throughout the story, reminding readers that each rebirth exacts a cost. The Sablefyre, once divine, now devours life instead of sanctifying it.
Maevyth’s silver scar and Zevander’s molten eyes mark them as beings reborn through suffering, carrying death within them even as they live. The novel’s world itself seems trapped in cyclical decay—religions rise and rot, bloodlines fall and reawaken.
This eternal recurrence speaks to humanity’s inability to escape its own destruction, forever repeating the same bargains with power and faith. Yet within that repetition lies renewal: Maevyth and Zevander’s bond represents the possibility of breaking the pattern, of transforming death into meaning rather than futility.
Their shared struggle suggests that rebirth is not divine grace but the human ability to endure, adapt, and redefine what life means in the shadow of endless endings.