Stephen King ventures into the fantasy realm with The Eyes of the Dragon in February 1987


February of 1987. The shadows are long, and the winds are brisk in Maryland. And a new tome from Stephen King has arrived at Crown Books. A book quite unlike his others, a story that still lingers in the smoke and shadow of my mind. That day saw the publication of The Eyes of the Dragon in a grand, illustrated hardcover by Viking. 

The Eyes of the Dragon wasn't a story to curdle your blood or make you jump at shadows (not mostly). It was a fable. A high fantasy. A story written, as the legend goes, not for the millions of horror hounds who ravenously consumed his tales of possessed cars and vampiric towns, but for his own daughter, Naomi. She had asked her father to write something she could read. Something not too scary.

And so, he did.

He traded the dark, grimy streets of Castle Rock for the medieval kingdom of Delain. He set aside the monsters from beyond the graves and the stars and gave us the classic archetypes of high fantasy: a noble king (King Roland), a beautiful and good-hearted queen (Sasha), and a brave young prince (Peter) destined for greatness. And, perhaps most importantly, he gave us a villain to fear and admire in equal measure. A villain that some of you might recognize, a traveler through many worlds: the sorcerer Flagg. Flagg, with his eyes that were the color of "a very deep, dark blue, but if you saw them in a strong light, you might think they were also the color of a very deep, dark green." A manipulator who whispers in the ear of the King, who plots the downfall of the good and the rise of the wicked. Sound familiar? Ahem.

Yes, Flagg. The same Flagg who stalked the ruins of The Stand, the same Flagg who, in various guises, has threaded his way through so many miles and pages of King’s universe. He’s a villain with layers, with depth, with a shadow that stretches longer than any castle wall. A master stroke by King, proving that a great villain can endure.

The Viking hardcover was a special thing, indeed. It wasn’t just the story. It was illustrated. Viking adorned the pages with illustrations by David Palladini. Ah, the art! Palladini’s work brought Delain to life. It was a dark, brooding fantasy, far removed from the bright and shiny imagery of so many other works. The art gave the book texture, a weight that helped it stand out on the shelves. For a while, that edition was a rare and treasured thing. It’s hard to remember, in this age of instant digital gratification, the hunt for such a book, the thrill of holding that heavy hardcover with the limited-run dragon-scale textured dust jacket.

Of course, King himself, as he often does, seemed almost dismissive of it. He once called it "a very traditional fantasy story, written as a children's story." But it is more than that. It is a fundamental story, a resonant one. A story that echoes the burden of duty, the weight of a crown, the nature of evil.

Critics whispered of its maturity, a restrained elegance in King's prose that belied the ferocity of his earlier works. For those of us who revel in tales where heroes are flawed and villains wear the guise of counselors, The Eyes of the Dragon stands as a beacon, proving that even the master of horror can wield the sword of fantasy with deft precision. A volume that could sit comfortably on a teenage bedroom bookshelf between the Fiend Folio and The Book of Mystic Wisdom as told by Philpop the Weary, magician to the court of his most sovereign Lord British.

And so, as the years have turned like pages in a forgotten grimoire, this illustrated hardcover endures—a relic of 1987's literary battles, where Viking's banner flew high. If you chance upon a copy in some dusty archive or online bazaar, seize it, for within lies a kingdom waiting to be conquered anew. And it may even have you looking up, watching the skies, just in case a dragon’s wing passes overhead.

Location: Maine, USA

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