Mourning Bloom: Staffkeepers of Solabell: Book One

by Austin Scarberry

Staffkeepers of Shaefi are magicians, healers, altruists, wielders of sentient staffs that allow them to tap into the power of the gods' runic language. With this power they spread life and joy across the world of Solabell, in accordance with the wishes of their goddess Shaefi. 

Yet not all Staffkeepers are so kind.

As a small child, Baggi's elder brother was killed by a Staffkeeper of Death. Now an apprentice Staffkeeper himself and bearing his brother's staff, Baggi must undergo the trials that will make him a full-fledged man of Shaefi in his own right. However, as he learns more of what it means to be a Staffkeeper of Shaefi-and as the Staffkeepers of Death continue to carve their bloody path across the land-he begins to question the central assertion of Shaefini that death is something to be avoided and opposed, always.

479 pages, Paperback

Published January 6, 2025

Reviews

[Katherine]

Stepping into the pages of Mourning Bloom, I braced myself for the usual fantasy fare: dragons, spells, epic quests. But what unfolded was a tale far richer, far more human than any I'd anticipated. Forget just staffs and magic; this book plunges you into Baggi's raw, poignant journey, a story that resonates deep within your soul, long after the last mystical battle fades. It's a profound whisper amidst the grand fantasy roar.

Baggi is a quiet, unsure apprentice, trying to become a full Staffkeeper in honor of his brother, who died tragically. That emotional pain runs through the whole story, making every challenge feel heavier and more real. I found myself really sympathizing with Baggi. He’s not a flashy hero—he’s someone trying to understand what’s right when the world isn’t so clear. One thing I really liked was how the book shows that even people with good intentions can sometimes be wrong. The teachings of the goddess Shaefi are supposed to bring joy, but Baggi starts wondering if there’s more to life (and death) than just following rules.

The magical staffs that talk added both wisdom and humor to the story. They felt like real characters, not just tools. The world of Solabell has a lot of layers, and I hope future books explore it even more. If you enjoy thoughtful fantasy with heart, moral complexity, and a unique magical system, Mourning Bloom is a great start to what promises to be a meaningful series.

[Book Island]

Austin Scarberry’s Mourning Bloom isn't just another fantasy novel; it's a richly layered experience where every element glows in magic. I explored this meticulously crafted world through three distinct, interwoven lenses.

• The Luminous Surface ~ A World Woven with Wonder :

Initially, Mourning Bloom captivates with a spellbinding display of fantasy. Here, Staffkeepers wield sentient staffs, conduits for divine energy that courses through a sacred language of glowing runes. The divine presence of the goddess Shaefi permeates this realm, where the eternal struggle between life-givers and death-bringers forms the bedrock of existence. For those who delight in truly original world-building and innovative magic systems, this layer alone is a treasure, offering a dazzling spectacle of imagination.

• The Resonating Heart ~ A Journey Through Sorrow and Self-Discovery:

Beneath the shimmering surface lies the poignant emotional core: the journey of Baggi. Haunted by his brother's profound loss, he shoulders the heavy mantle of a legacy both tangible and spiritual. His path through grief and self-discovery forms the pulsating heart of the novel, revealing a quiet strength born not of martial prowess, but of deep feeling, persistent questioning, and profound learning. It is in Baggi's vulnerable humanity that the story truly resonates.

• The Profound Question ~ A Dance Between Faith and Truth :

The deepest stratum of Mourning Bloom delves into the very foundations of belief, challenging preconceived notions of good and evil. Is death inherently malevolent, or is it merely misunderstood? Baggi’s growing skepticism towards the absolute tenets of his faith subtly prompts readers to embark on their own intellectual inquiry, offering no facile resolutions but rather fostering a contemplative space where truth and belief intertwine.

In essence, Mourning Bloom is a luminous offering for readers who seek fantasy that is not only emotionally resonant and thoughtfully constructed but also layered with profound meaning, where every revelation glows in magic.

[Sneha]

Magical staffs that talk, glowing runes, and divine language? Oh yeah, welcome to Solabell, where the Staffkeepers of Shaefi are basically magical therapists with god-powered cheat codes. They're all about spreading light, love, and probably unsolicited wisdom. But plot twist—some of them are absolutely not on the goddess-approved path.

Baggi (our cinnamon roll with trauma) is trying to earn his shiny Staffkeeper badge while dragging around some serious emotional baggage—mainly the staff of his murdered brother. Fun fact: his brother was killed by one of those edgy “Staffkeepers of Death.” And now Baggi has to smile politely through trials while questioning if death is always the enemy or if the church of Shaefi might be slightly full of it.

This book dives deep into the “what even is right and wrong?” territory. Just when you think you’re rooting for the good guys, you start wondering if they’ve actually been gaslighting everyone since day one. It’s magic, sure, but it’s also a full-on philosophical breakdown wrapped in cool worldbuilding and chaotic character vibes.

Also, let’s talk about the staffs. THEY TALK. Some are snarky, some are wise, some are basically your emotional support stick. Honestly, 10/10 would trade in my laptop for one. Add in bloody battles, morally messy decisions, and Baggi’s slow mental unravelling and boom—Mourning Bloom serves drama with a side of divine confusion.

[Ummehani Nalawala]

A palace made of questions—that’s what Mourning Bloom by Austin Scarberry feels like. Not a story you enter, but one you inhabit, like a whispering hall of mirrors where belief refracts into doubt.

There are glowing runes, yes. Sacred relics hum with old light. But they’re not centerpieces—they’re decoys. This isn’t a tale of saving kingdoms; it’s a quiet interrogation of why we ever thought they were worth saving.

What happens when prophecy feels like propaganda? When divine power tastes of ash? The protagonist, raised beneath a stained-glass sky of certainties, begins to see the cracks. And through those cracks, something feral stares back—not darkness, but ambiguity.

The prose doesn’t gallop; it glides. It pauses to inhale silences. At times, it reads like scripture gone rogue, then turns and coils like a forgotten poem in the margins.
There are no map pages. No tavern brawls. No chosen one with a golden birthmark. What you get instead is the slow erosion of inherited truth and the strange flowering of personal revelation.

Mourning Bloom is less a fantasy novel than an existential séance, held at the altar of unlearning. It’s for readers who don’t mind being lost—only to discover that the maze was the message all along.
And in the end, isn’t that its boldest spell?

[Komal Kumari]

Mourning Bloom caught my attention with its unusual idea—talking staffs powered by a divine language—and kept me hooked with its deep themes. The Staffkeepers of Shaefi are seen as healers and protectors, but as you read, you start wondering if their “light” is really as pure as it seems.
Baggi is a young boy dealing with a heavy past. His brother was killed by a Death Staffkeeper, and now Baggi has to carry his brother’s staff while trying to become a Staffkeeper himself. It’s a sad but powerful setup, and Baggi’s quiet strength really moved me. He’s not perfect, but his questions and doubts felt very real.
The book explores big ideas—what is death, really? Can something seen as evil have a place in the world? These aren’t easy questions, and the story doesn’t offer easy answers. That’s what made it interesting for me.
I also loved the magical staffs. Each has its own personality—some were comforting, some a little sarcastic. They added emotion and sometimes comic relief when things got intense.
This isn’t a fast-paced action story, but more of a thoughtful and sometimes dark journey about growing up and finding your own truth. If you like fantasy that makes you think, you’ll probably enjoy Mourning Bloom. I did.

[Rishu]

Step into the world of Mourning Bloom and you'll find no chosen one, no ancient prophecy, and no easy battles between good and evil. This is a story where power glows in silence, and the real magic lies in unraveling the lies we build our lives around.

Baggi is a quiet soul, not your typical hero. He doesn’t shout or fight dragons—he thinks, mourns, doubts, and keeps walking. That’s what made him feel real to me. He’s grieving his brother, yet trying to serve the same order that let such violence happen. It’s a conflict that made me pause more than once while reading. The Staffkeepers are supposed to spread peace and joy, but as Baggi goes through his trials, he starts noticing cracks in that perfect image. This book doesn’t scream its message—it whispers it, and the quiet moments hit harder because of that.

If you’ve ever read fantasy and thought, “But what if the good guys aren’t totally right?”—then this is the story for you. It doesn’t rush. It invites you to reflect, to sit with uncomfortable truths. Not every book needs loud battles. Some need only a staff, a memory, and a question that lingers.

[Shardha]

Mourning Bloom surprised me with how quietly bold it was.
Set in a world where magic is tied to sacred staffs and divine language what Austin Scarberry has build something that has layers of thoughtful philosophy.

Baggi’s journey as a Staffkeeper-in-training is less about spells and more about truth—his truth. His brother’s death by the hand of a Staffkeeper of Death hangs over him like a storm cloud. Carrying that same staff, Baggi is forced to walk a path of light while holding a memory of darkness.
This book doesn’t paint in black and white. It lives in the gray. The Staffkeepers of Shaefi preach peace, but Baggi learns that peace without understanding can become just another kind of violence. And maybe, just maybe, death isn't the enemy they've made it out to be.

It made me reflect on real life—how sometimes we follow rules without questioning where they came from or who they serve. How grief doesn’t go away just because someone tells you it should. If you’re looking for a fantasy book that challenges ideas and shows strength in gentleness, Mourning Bloom is worth your time. It lingers in your thoughts long after the last page.

[Kevin]

I find Mourning Bloom by Austin Scarberry as one of those fantasy books which have the potential to surprise a reader —not just with magical battles or enchanted staffs, but with serious questions about belief, loss, and who we choose to follow.

The story follows Baggi, a young apprentice who’s still grieving his brother’s death at the hands of a dark Staffkeeper. The twist? Baggi now carries that very brother’s staff and is training to become one himself. The emotional weight of that setup alone kept me turning the pages.
What stood out most to me was the contrast between light and dark Staffkeepers—and how the book doesn’t treat that as a simple good vs evil fight. Instead, Baggi begins to question the teachings of his faith, and the story slowly unravels his inner doubts. I appreciated that depth.
The world of Solabell is rich, and the idea of sentient staffs that speak and guide their keepers was both fun and fascinating.

This book isn’t just a fantasy adventure—it’s also about grief, truth, and courage. It starts as a magical coming-of-age tale but ends up asking some big questions. I’ll definitely be looking out for the next one in the series.

[Riya]

Okay, listen—if you told me I’d get emotionally attached to a stick, I’d laugh. But here I am, wishing I had a magical staff with attitude.
Mourning Bloom mixes epic fantasy with quiet character depth and throws in magical staffs that actually "talk"—sometimes better than the humans around them. Some are snarky. Some are wise.
Baggi is soft, thoughtful, and kind of broken, but he’s trying to keep it together in a world that keeps asking more from him. His brother’s death still haunts him, especially since he now holds the very staff his brother used. What makes this book fun and deep is how it takes typical fantasy ideas—gods, good vs. evil, sacred duties—and slowly tears them apart with questions.

Are we always supposed to fear death? Can blind faith actually hurt more than it helps?
Don’t expect non-stop action, but do expect some killer emotional moments, clever conversations, and magical sass. Honestly, I came for the worldbuilding and stayed for the existential crisis and emotional support staffs.

[Soumya]

Why Mourning Bloom Worked for Me — A Quick Breakdown

✔ Unique Premise:
Talking magical staffs? Divine runes? A religious order with a dark undercurrent? I was immediately intrigued.

✔ Thoughtful Protagonist:
Baggi is not a typical fantasy hero. He’s sensitive, unsure, and still processing grief. That vulnerability made him more relatable than the usual sword-swinging leads.

✔ Moral Complexity:
The Staffkeepers of Shaefi are supposed to be the “good ones”—but what happens when faith avoids truth? I appreciated that the book doesn’t offer simple answers.

✔ Emotional Core:
At its heart, this is a story about grief, legacy, and questioning what you’ve been taught. Baggi carrying his brother’s staff is symbolic and haunting.

✔ Cool Magic System:
The sentient staffs are basically magical co-pilots—fun, wise, and often unpredictable. They add personality to the world in a big way.

✔ Slow but Worth It:
It’s not action-packed from the start, but it grows into something more meaningful. Patience pays off.

[readerkd]

Reading Mourning Bloom felt like walking through a quiet forest—soft, mysterious, full of beauty and hidden shadows.
Baggi’s story is slow and thoughtful, like poetry in the shape of a fantasy novel. He’s an apprentice Staffkeeper, but really, he’s just a boy trying to make sense of pain and belief. The loss of his brother is always close, and the staff he now carries feels less like a tool and more like a ghost.
I loved how the book explored the idea of death—not as something to fear, but as something that might have meaning. The teachings of Shaefi say to avoid it. But Baggi isn’t so sure. And that slow change in his thinking was what made the book so powerful.
The magic here isn’t flashy. It’s in the way the staffs speak, the way the runes glow, the way the world quietly pushes back when something isn’t right.
This is a story for those who enjoy fantasy with heart. It doesn't shout, it sings.

[Ruchi Reviewer]

Here’s my honest review of Mourning Bloom by Austin Scarberry, laid out clearly to help you decide if it’s your kind of book.

✅ Things I enjoyed so much:
Fresh, Unique World: Sentient staffs that talk, a divine runic language, and a goddess-centered magic system make the world of Solabell feel new and immersive.
Moral Complexity: Instead of clear good vs. evil, the book digs into ethical questions. What if death isn’t the enemy? What if faith is flawed?
Emotional Weight: Baggi’s grief for his brother is tender and real. His journey feels deeply personal and quietly courageous.
Characterful Magic: The staffs aren’t just tools—they have opinions, moods, and sometimes sass. Honestly, they steal scenes.


Bottom Line: Mourning Bloom is perfect for readers who want meaningful fantasy. It’s slower-paced, yes, but rich with emotion and questions that linger. If you like your magic with depth and your heroes a little broken but brave, give it a read.