There’s a moment in every artist’s journey when they look back and think: “Ah yes, this was my colored-pencil digital renaissance period, when I combined Windows 98 gradients with the emotional depth of a Sears portrait session.” Sword of the Guardian is the cover equivalent of that moment, preserved forever in glowy, awkward stillness.
Let’s begin with the heroic figure in the forefront. She’s rocking what looks like a military band uniform from a particularly dramatic marching band. The red velvet getup is adorned with golden slashes that scream “COMMANDER OF THE HOLIDAY PARADE,” and yet her posture says, “I am deeply unsure of where to look.” Meanwhile, her arm positioning suggests she’s about to either draw a sword or play an invisible saxophone.
To her left (or maybe just behind her… or possibly superimposed from another dimension?) we have Sad Woman On A Chair. She’s not looking at anything. Not even at her protector, or the viewer. She appears to be reflecting deeply on whether this cover will cost her career opportunities. Her hair has been rendered with all the precision of spaghetti noodles soaked in watercolor.
Then there’s that sword. The titular Sword of the Guardian. Hovering menacingly in the air like a rejected fantasy logo trying to stage a comeback. What’s it doing there? Why is it pointing at the window? Did someone think, “Let’s take this medieval weapon and just… make it fly horizontally over a windowsill like a drone”? Because that’s exactly what’s happening. And the beveling? Oh, the beveling. It’s got more shine than a drag show spotlight but with none of the charm.
The background tries to convince us it’s nighttime with a moon and castle silhouette, but the windowpane grid divides the composition like someone was solving a Sudoku puzzle over the artwork. And don’t even get me started on the curtain. It’s not so much draping as it is melting.
The font choices commit multiple design misdemeanors in one go. The title screams “I just discovered layer effects!” with its aggressive gradient and metallic shine, while the author’s name is stuck in all-caps jail beneath a red banner that looks like it was borrowed from a cereal box.
All together, this cover lands somewhere between a romance novel, a medieval fanfic, and a pamphlet for a local Ren Faire sword safety class. It’s bold. It’s baffling. It’s definitely horrible.
Congratulations, Sword of the Guardian. You’ve made the cut — though sadly, not with that floating sword.