The stunning conclusion to the richly imagined Guardians of Dawn fantasy series from S. Jae-Jones, the New York Times bestselling author of Wintersong.
Intrigued? Read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Guardians of Dawn: Suhwa by S. Jae-Jones, which releases on August 18th 2026.
Shadows fade. Illusions break. The dawn returns.
Min Suhwa has always longed to see the greater world outside the small, cloistered convent in which she was raised. Hidden there for her safety when she was a small child, Suhwa has learned to keep her unusual illusion magic to herself, but when the Bangtan Brothers come to town to perform, she can’t resist the chance to go see them for herself. But the world outside her convent is dangerous—the Morning Realms have fallen to civil war, and Huntsmen prowl the land in search of magicians and the fabled Guardians of Dawn, legendary elemental warriors with incredible powers. When Suhwa’s illusion magic brings her afoul of one of the Huntsmen, she must flee for her life.
Meanwhile, the Guardians of Dawn and their allies are fighting a war on two fronts—against the northern insurrection seeking to claim the Sunburst Throne and destroy all magicians, and against the rising threat of the Mother of Ten Thousand Demons. Zhara, Ami, and Yuli must travel to the Azure Isles to seek the Guardian of Water and save the Morning Realms from annihilation, restoring balance to order and chaos once and for all.
EXCERPT
It had been two long years since the Bangtan Brothers were last in the Azure Isles and Min Suhwa would be damned if she missed their next performance.
Sneaking out of the convent was not an easy task on an ordinary day, but the days had ceased to be ordinary since the start of the civil war. The politics of the mainland did not often touch the everyday lives of the average Azurean, but ever since the Lady of Wild Things declared herself for the Sunburst Throne, not even Suhwa’s small, isolated convent of the Way could escape the war’s encroaching influence. Weekly deliveries of rice and other supplies from the surrounding villages came with news of northern troops occupying the major cities and ports of the Isles, as well as reports of the arrests of magicians by Kestrels in places as remote as Genbu Island. It was the first time the Azure Isles had ever been occupied by an outside force, and its people chafed at the imposition.
But nonetheless, the Bangtan Brothers were scheduled to be in Hwangyeong in ten days’ time, proof that the Azureans liked to laugh in the face of adversity. Word of the performance troupe’s incredible artistry had spread throughout the Morning Realms, to the point that even Suhwa, despite her sheltered existence, was entirely aware and eager to witness it for herself. She had been to Hwangyeong—only a few days’ journey away—once before and was perhaps even more excited to experience the sights and sounds of the bustling port city than she was to see the Brothers themselves. Folk fairs and festivals were fun enough, but Suhwa knew every face and voice in the village at the foot of the mountain, and was hungry for something new, something unfamiliar.
Besides, it would break up the dreadful monotony of convent life.
Duckoo whined as Suhwa rearranged her bedding for the fifth time, his fluffy white tail thumping the floor impatiently.
“Not now,” she said sternly, making sure the pile of dirty laundry beneath the blanket was roughly the same size and shape as her own form. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
The dog grumbled as he lay down, resting his head on his paws and looking up at her with big, imploring brown eyes. The convent was home to several strays, although there were more of the animal variety than human ones these days. Suhwa had been the last human orphan welcomed into these walls six years ago, and Duckoo was the youngest now. He had been babied by everyone since he first arrived as a small, shivering puppy three winters ago, and was now dreadfully spoiled. He whined again, louder this time.
“No. Go play with your brother instead.” Satisfied with the now human-shaped pile on her bed, Suhwa turned her focus inward, to the pool of magic she held at the center of her being, drawing it forth to lay a shimmering veil of illusion over the bundle.
Duckoo huffed.
Suhwa frowned as she tried to recall what she looked like. Vanity was not proscribed among the priestesses, but mirrors were expensive, and Suhwa had only the haziest grasp of her own image. Long, shining black hair with a streak of white by her face, fair skin, dark eyes, but the details were only half remembered from childhood. The pile of dirty clothes rippled beneath her hands as she concentrated, struggling to conceptualize herself from the wellspring of ki within her. The vague form of a sleeping girl emerged beneath the blanket, her features obscured by long black hair with a distinctive streak of white. Duckoo sniffed curiously at the bedding.
“Not bad,” Suhwa said, surveying her handiwork. It was harder placing a glamour on something other than herself, easier to mold her own ki than it was to shape another’s. Whether or not the illusion looked like her, it at least looked convincingly like a person.
Duckoo gave the pile another sniff before turning away in disinterest.
“What, you don’t agree?” Suhwa pouted. “Fine, Yongma will fix it.” She glanced around her tiny room, which was scarcely big enough for the pallet on the floor, let alone another dog. “Speaking of, where is your brother?”
As though summoned, another dog poked its head into her room from the outside corridor, black with white spots where Duckoo was white with black spots.
“Oh good, there you are.” Suhwa reached for Yongma and the black dog nosed her hand, closing his eyes as she stroked his ears. Around the convent, he and Duckoo were called the Jun and Yan dogs, ostensibly for their opposite coloring, which mirrored the bisected black-andwhite symbol of the order, but mostly for their contrasting personalities. Suhwa gestured to the sleeping girl. “Do your thing,” she said to the black dog.
Yongma looked at the bundle of robes, then back at her with an aggrieved expression in his blue eyes.
“Come on,” Suhwa wheedled. “Would you do it for a treat?”
Yongma took one glance at her empty hands and sniffed.
“Fine,” Suhwa huffed. “You’re getting chubby anyway.” She rose to her feet and picked up the large empty basket by the door. “I suppose it won’t do any good to ask either of you to stay behind to sell this deception tonight?”
Both dogs gave her an identical grin. “I thought so,” she muttered. “Ungrateful little ingrates. Just don’t ruin my plan.”
The plan was to pretend to get sick after dinner and sneak out during the evening’s free time. Life in the convent had its routines, but it also had its share of leisure hours. Once their assigned duties were completed, a priestess or acolyte of Do had the freedom to pursue whatever they wished—music, dance, painting, martial arts, history, gardening—provided they were always ready to perform at the rituals of birth and death required of their order in the surrounding villages. Although the days had been growing warmer, the nights were still chilly enough that most priestesses stayed inside after sundown leaving the main courtyard empty. Suhwa had been slowly but surely gathering her supplies to leave over the past week—a few handfuls of rice from the kitchens during cooking duty, a small pot and a spoon during washing-up duty, a heavy cloak and some blankets during laundry duty, and a knife and rope dart during martial arts practice. All was in readiness; it was only a matter of planting the seeds of illness during her chores and waiting until twilight now.
