Yet another whiny self-blamer
If I never read a sentence like this again:
"It's all my fault he's dead!"
"He was trying to kill me/imitate me/betray me, but because I'm the reason he was trying to do whatever evil or stupid thing, it's all my fault he died in the process!"
Yeah, right. Makes total sense. Really it does.
Less competent authors make use of this type of emotional illogic in perhaps 75% of fantasy stories of all genres, and reading this garbage is far beyond tedious.
While the people who were hurt or died may have blamed the MC for 'giving them no choice but to ____, in fact, the actions and the choices were all their own and their inner justifications are simply that: self-serving attempts to evade their own responsibility for the experiences and events that led up to their deaths.
I'm beginning to wonder if authors use this trope (tripe) as a way to prove the MC is a good person--"See! He's such a nice guy he even blames himself for stuff that's the bad guy's fault! Isn't he just the best?"
No, that behavior doesn't make him a good guy, instead it makes him neurotic. He's crippled with doubt right when he most needs to be clearheaded, unable to make hard choices when other people are depending on him, and vulnerable to his own and other people's self-serving justifications for pawning their choices and responsibilities off on other people.
It also makes for blind MCs who have a hard time maturing and who make poor choices that get a lot of other people unnecessarily hurt or killed. How is any of that a good thing? Now, yes, many of us (especially women, as our cultures tend to set us up for it) do go through a stage when we need to learn how to identify what actually is our fault, as opposed to what isn't. Handled skillfully, that transition can be a very moving part of a character's growing up, and can indelibly mark both reader and character, but this depth of learning doesn't happen by means of the knee-jerk response/cookie-cutter dialogue with which authors too often bog down the story. In this case Miller has dug Ghile a hole in which to wallow, and the readers and everyone in the story is going to have suffer along with him until Miller finally writes him a way out.
I, in all events, have no intention of reading further.
This wasn't a bad book, overall, not counting the wallowing, whining MC. The universe was sufficiently distinct, and I liked the way the cultures were differentiated, along with the conflicting histories, prophecies and religions of each race, though the plot so far is somewhat incoherent and there are a number of info-dumps that interrupt the story's flow.
Characters were reasonably well-drawn (other than Riff, the smirking arrogant wizard's apprentice--a dime-a-dozen character in books like this), and the story began with a promising, well-written friction in the relationship between Ghile and his father, though the friction quickly comes to nothing. Gaidel the druid seemed to have the most interesting possibilities, especially in conjunction with her warder, Two Elks. There just wasn't much heard from her or any of the characters, save Ghile and Magister Obudar, the Dwarf Overseer of Laketown, as this book seemed mostly to be a setup for the next one, and too much time was spent on the backstory, including setting up the conflict between Magister Obudar and the Dwarf Knight-Justice Finngyr's religious order.
I'm not going to read further in the series because I just don't find Ghile appealing and the story seemed unexciting, perhaps because the hazards and opportunities weren't presented clearly enough. Ghile is a problem for me because when he's not wallowing in guilt or feeling stupid and clumsy, he's making threats and demands of the grownups (and everyone else seems like a grownup compared to Ghile, no matter their calendar age) that make him seem more like a three year old than someone who's turned eighteen and wants to be treated as a man. That's really not appealing, and Miller failed to convince me that either Ghile or the story as a whole has more and better to offer.