This site does not appear to use stars. However, the review was glowing enough.

A philosophical initiation cloaked in BDSM ritual and mystic yearning...

Drake weaves mysticism, erotic power dynamics, and philosophical inquiry into a raw, psychologically charged coming-of-age narrative in this compelling novel. The story follows an unnamed protagonist, a young woman fragmented by hunger (bodily, emotional, spiritual), who finds herself under the tutelage of Magister, a commanding figure whose role, much like hers, is mutable. Together they navigate a metaphysical landscape structured by the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, each chapter ascending a Sephirah, as if pain and knowledge might be climbed like rungs to transcendence.

Drake's world is not a literal one; it operates more like a symbolic landscape, echoing alchemical, Hermetic, and mystical traditions. The setting: an ever-shifting fusion of dreamlike interiors, ritual chambers, and occasionally grounded moments of realism, functions as a psychological and spiritual map rather than a geographic one. Time, place, and identity blur, often giving the book the surreal texture of an initiation rite rather than a linear plot. That said, this is not an abstract or detached novel: it is deeply, even painfully personal, driven by the narrator's yearning for knowledge, love, safety, and above all, sovereignty over her own body and self.

The prose, often elliptical and steeped in untranslated Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, mirrors the novel's ritualistic density. At times it reads like scripture rewritten by someone who's survived it. At others, it lands with a stark modernity, especially in moments of pain: the hunger of being queer in a straight world, of being a girl in a place that only values what it consumes. The BDSM elements are not for shock or ornamentation. They are studied with the same care as theology or metaphysics. Submission becomes a philosophical act. "What does it mean to obey?" becomes "What does it mean to choose?" and eventually, "What does it mean to be free?" In this, Ancilla joins a rare canon of books that take both sex and spirit seriously without stripping either of its difficulty.

This is not an easy read. It demands intellectual engagement, emotional openness, and tolerance for ambiguity. The plot is secondary to transformation; scenes unfold in ways that resist conventional resolution; and the content is intentionally provocative. But for readers willing to enter its labyrinth, the rewards are profound. The novel offers a radical rethinking of power and divinity, one that refuses to separate the body from the soul, or pain from wisdom.

A singular tale, braided with blood, mystery, and intellect, that dares to fuse the sacred and the profane.