Dragos Gaszpar - Dark Fantasy, Sacrifice, Ruin, and Philosophy

Dragos Gaszpar writes dark, character-driven fantasy about loss, memory, and the quiet weight of long consequences. He believes magic should cost something, characters should show who they are, and that real depth often lies in what’s left unsaid. His stories blend lyrical prose with emotional and philosophical intensity, offering worlds where silence can wound and history never stays buried.  When not writing, he can usually be found studying myth, trying to understand the contradictions of human behavior, or rewriting the same sentence for the tenth time.Please give us a short introduction to what The Last Ritual is about.It’s a standalone dark fantasy about a tight-knit group of irreverent immortals on a final journey to prevent extinction. The story follows Melaan, one of the youngest. Later chapters branch out to the rest of the main cast. Along the way, they’re forced into a reluctant alliance with their millennia-old enemy, the Leath.Everything goes to plan and there are no surprises at all. Pinky swear.“We killed God.” That’s one hell of an opening. Can you walk us through the genesis of this world, where rituals are literally carved from a divine corpse?Myth and philosophy are what draw me to fantasy. I enjoy complex, believable characters with nuanced factions and rational arguments. Not necessarily realistic, but believable.The epigraph, which also serves as the blurb, is meant to reflect that. It’s mostly accurate, but since it was written by one of our god-killers, some bias may have crept in.The idea that magic has a cost is central to the story. Why do you believe that consequence should be a foundational element of fantasy?If you ever want to torture readers, drag them through a thousand-page utopia where every problem’s already solved.Conflict is essential to storytelling, and conflict requires characters. Characters who act, communicate, make choices, all of which should bear consequences.Magic is a wonderful tool to establish rules and create otherwise impossible scenarios. It lets you explore how those differences affect the human condition. But it’s easy to mess up. Magic can solve anything. So… restraint is necessary. Drawbacks. Limits.The Leath are presented as a major threat, yet something worse is on the horizon. How do you balance external conflict with internal, character-driven stakes?The two need to work together. A character’s thoughts and emotions influence their actions, which affect the world and in turn reshape their thoughts. You get virtuous or vicious cycles. This compounds when you have an entire cast, with their own views and motivations. The trick is blending it with the world and the novel’s themes without being heavy-handed.It’s a nightmare. I love it.Each of the four immortals undertakes a final journey, knowing they won’t return. How did you approach writing characters who’ve lived so long yet are still capable of growth—or failure?Despite their vitality, these people are not gods. They’re average men and women who’ve had a long time to become very good at what they do. Namely, fight Leath. But also adapt, craft, paint, nurse grudges. Come up with creative blasphemies.My characters forget. They get mad. They bicker, and snark, and love, and grieve, and punch anything that gets too close right in the face—including each other. They’re flawed, and deeply human. Even the four who undergo the last ritual. Especially them.As for the Leath… well, no spoilers.Silence, memory, and buried history seem to haunt your characters. What role does forgetting play in shaping identity in the novel?This is a stoic world. Readers will have to piece together the history and truth from glimpses: what characters choose to reveal, but more often, what they don’t. These people don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. But the details reveal how much forgetting affects them, and the lengths they go to remember.Well, apart from Tarra, Sidd, and a most peculiar mare, who often try to slap some sense into the fools.Friendship under pressure is a recurring theme. Did you model any of the character dynamics on real relationships, or are they entirely imagined?The foundation is a mix of real relationships, personal observation, research, and the military bonds depicted in my favorite books and media. The deepest friendships are often forged in the harshest conditions. There’s a lot of banter, gallows humor, and bickering to mask the trauma, weariness, and affection.But most of it’s made up. If you know anyone older than a mountain range, in perfect health and with a few stories to share, I’d love to badger them with questions.There’s a dry, almost sarcastic tone in parts of the narrative, especially in the final message excerpt. How important is tone in balancing tragedy with readability?That message was written by Voss, one of the four. He’s ancient and about as cheerful as a tombstone. I think readers will enjoy discovering what makes him tick.Most of the humor is dry, sarcastic, or grim. Apart from being a coping mechanism, it’s also one way I balance tone. Can’t have everything be depressing or serious all the time. Moments of unfiltered emotional connection help, too.The contrast makes the tragedy land.Your prose has been described as lyrical and emotionally intense. How do you approach the balance between poetic language and narrative drive?The best thing prose can do is get the hell out of the way.I don’t mean it’s irrelevant or that it can’t be beautiful. Just that it shouldn’t be in the spotlight. To me, it’s a means to an end, something that supports the story and reveals character. Sometimes it happens to be poetic. When it’s working, readers shouldn’t dwell on the prose because they’re too immersed in the story.You’ve said that depth often lies in “what’s left unsaid.” Can you share a moment in The Last Ritual where the silence says more than dialogue ever could?What I call “the tea scene,” about halfway in, is among my favorites.Melaan and Saasha are gazing into the flames, brewing tea over a pyre. They have a curt, banal exchange. Then they sit together through the night, drinking scalding tea as the logs and ash crumble.I’ll only hint at the full meaning: the silence between them carries what they can’t say, and what they don’t need to.Do you believe a book like this could only be written from a place of personal reckoning or emotional weight? Or is it a purely crafted experience?Any creative work reflects the author’s mind in some form. In that way, a novel’s like a piece of you. But this one is very much crafted to deliver a certain experience. The further you progress, the more the training wheels come off. Can’t promise you’ll like what you find on the other end, but I do think it’s honest.What was the hardest scene to write, either technically or emotionally?Technically, the second part of the siege about a third into the story. Battles are chaotic, but readers still need to make sense of them. Portraying that through Melaan’s limited perspective while juggling tactics and pacing was challenging.Another was the group debate before the ritual. Many characters, each with their own viewpoint and arguments. Filtering their dialogue, grounding it in the scene, ensuring everyone had a fair say while leaving some mystery.Emotionally, the last third of the novel. The ending hit home for me, though writing it is different. You spend long stretches nitpicking over details, never experiencing twists the way first-time readers do. I suspect people will have their own preferences, depending on which character they connect with. Saasha’s scene near the end will probably be a favorite.How many times did you rewrite a single sentence? And how do you know when to stop editing and let go?Enough times for others to question my sanity. I once tightened a sentence so much there was nothing left.Generally, I can tell when something is off, even if I can’t pin down why. Sometimes it’s the wrong synonym, too long, or doesn’t sound right when read aloud. Other times, it needs tightening or rephrasing. There’s an AHA! moment when it locks into the meaning and voice I want.The novel is standalone, but the world feels lived-in and expansive. Are there more stories hiding in its shadows?Aside from an upcoming character interview between Tarra and Skar, the novel’s all there is. The story’s wrapped up, and I think I gave it a satisfying conclusion. Not a fan of prequels—you can show me baby Anakin struggling all you want, I know he ends up in a black suit chucking the Emperor into a reactor. There’s something lost in that knowledge.That’s not to say I’ve run out of ideas. Next up: a series. Patience, though.Where can our readers discover more of your work or interact with you?You can find me on Substack. It’s free to follow, and includes updates, writing insights, and that upcoming character interview. You’ll find a couple of spoiler-free FAQs about The Last Ritual, with more to come.I’m also on Goodreads, where I post highlights and occasionally run giveaways. Feel free to reach out on either platform.And here’s my online card.Thank you for having me.