#Find me when you wish to begin

[violetasteracademic]

Hi there :)

I'm dropping it because I'm curious for your thoughts on the theories that are flying around about SJM signing a book with that wolf quote. (You can see it here.)

When I first read it, I immediately thought it referred to Nesta. If I'm not mistaken, she even describes herself as a wolf in ACOSF. So, I'm confused why people are trying to turn this into an Elain thing...

I want an Elain confirmation as much as the next person (and Elriel!), but this seems like such a reach to try and tie that to Elain.

I'm sorry for being such a debby-downer, but you always explain things super well, so I thought maybe you'd have something to share!

Anon.... It's been a long time. But I will answer this call and come out of the woodworks to clown. I did not come up with any of this, and it was my friend @yourstarsmyscars who lured me into the clown car last night and explained it to me (and she sent me a post by @blaircmorgan who is a witch and prophesized the significance of Chapter 21). Beyond that, I still pretty much stay off Tumblr have no idea who else to credit for any of the ideas because I am processing an insane amount of information all day every day right now, but yes, I can explain this in excruciating detail, and I am also adding my own thoughts that have developed as well.

Happy Elriel Month to all who celebrate, and happy clowning to all who are partaking!

Now, 21.

And no, it isn't a stretch.

Allow me to say that before Sarah's autographed photo and quote came up, my friends and I had been clowning all morning about a May 21st announcement. The reason for this is that the giant Bloomsbury ACOTAR book displays (which have been around for a while) are open to chapter 21 of ACOTAR. This is a significant ACOTAR chapter. It's the chapter that Feyre finally meets Rhys, and his first ever, There you are. I've been looking for you. It's Rhys. It's Calanmai. It's all the things.

Buuuuut there is also the big Bloomsbury investor meeting on May 22nd. We clowned about this before and got burned, but BB basically said come back May 22nd for a detailed outlook and trade update:

So for many of us, the May 21st clown car was already full steam ahead. Chapter 21 of ACOTAR on display. The day before the big Bloomsbury meetings where Sarah is featured heavily as she carries the non academic sector of that company on her back (hope you get massage girlie pop) AND, more clown from my friend @yourstarsmyscars who is a librarian with secret powers, the Winter 2026 catalogue for Bloomsbury has started to get updated. The 2026 winter catalogue is in alignment with all of Sarah's recent previous releases which have been between January and March. The winter catalogue runs from January to April, and Archer, the new BB imprint which Sarah and her team have moved to, confirmed they will launch with their first book (crazy for it to be anything other than the next ACOTAR, since the Archeron sisters built the Archer imprint) in 2026.

So, the May 21st clown was strong. Winter 2026 catalogue is going live. BB has until May 22 to say anything about the next ACOTAR if it is going to happen within the next fiscal year.

Now. The quote.

This sets off our new trajectory. I understand you are recalling Nesta referring to herself as a wolf, but this is Feyre's quote from the Weaver's Cottage (currently on the voting bracket today.) So, no. This is not Nesta. But I love my girl, and the Archeron sisters are all wolves inside. Let's not forget the fanged beast inside Elain Archeron 😏 however, this is chapter 21 of ACOMAF:

Note the emphasized was as well. Feyre says she's a wolf a few times, but only in chapter 21 does the was get an italic, or an underline on the display.

So now we are cooking.

We have representation of ACOTAR chapter 21.

We have representation of ACOMAF chapter 21.

Another item of note is that the ACOMAF chapter 21 quote was shared on a Wednesday. May 21st is a Wednesday. SJM typically announces her new books on a Wednesday (yes this checks out, I thoroughly investigated. There are a few off hand Thursdays, and also special editions or paperbacks do not fit this pattern. New books only.) So, if there is going to be a new Chapter 21 quote from ACOWAR, ACOFAS, and then finally ACOSF every Wednesday until May 21st...

What is chapter 21 of A Court of Silver Flames?

Baby, it's Elain Archeron City.

Elain shall I tend to my little garden forever Archeron.

Elain, the fanged beast growing claws after all Archeron (and Azriel's shadows preparing to smite anyone who calls her boring)

Elain I went into the Cauldron too Archeron

Elain the only one who guessed Archeron

Elain FIND ME WHEN YOU WISH TO BEGIN Archeron.

Chapter 21 of ACOSF is extremely short, and it is the most pivotal Elain chapter in all of ACOSF.

So if BB actually decided to be cool and fun and clever, this means that if we are going to follow a pattern and see a quote from Chapter 21 of each of Sarah's books while celebrating the 10 year anniversary and leading to May 21st, when it comes time to pull a chapter from ACOSF on announcement day... It will land on Elain (and Azriel, but mostly Elain.)

I do want to take a moment to acknowledge the pinned comment on the post. Please be kind, I respect this clown and I think any one of us would (and are) doing the same.

This is referring to chapter 56 of ACOSF, where Gwyn shows Nesta and Emerie that they have been written into the history books in this beautiful passage:

My take on this is that it is completely understandable and fair for this to be used for clowning, so just be nice and let everyone do their thing for now. However, while yes the literal words 21 are in this passage (which is all part of this huge marketing ploy) this is a passage from chapter 56 of ACOSF, not a literal chapter 21 passage from any previous books, and chapter 21 has consistently been a pivotal chapter in Sarah's books. As previously mentioned, the chapter Feyre meets Rhys /There you are, Feyre repainting her memories and assuring no one would ever hurt her or her sisters again and healing her trauma, Cassian and Nesta's OG fumbled solstice gift, and Feyre revealing her pregnancy and Elain standing up for herself. Chapter 56 is referring to a story that has already been told, whereas Elain's chapter 21 passage refers to her journey to come, the future, and her time to begin. Again, I do not begrudge any Nesta or Valkyrie stans (I am one myself, just also happen to be an Elriel and Elain stan) for clowning, but chapter 56 tells the story that was written. Elain's story has yet to be told, and Elain is the focus of actual chapter 21 in ACOSF.

Okay so, is any of this legit? Honestly, I think so.

This part is based purely on speculation, but it is my opinion this is a social media campaign. No, I do not believe sandysbookcorner knows what the book is about or has insider info. Yes, I do believe BB contacted him-and will likely contact other small creators and booktokers-every Wednesday leading up to the reveal to snap a picture of the new quotes, but only time will tell.

But the reason I think this is pretty legitimate is because Sarah's entire crew rolled up to this post where sandysbookcorner said something is coming, and it's not just another Starfall ball. Acotar six will break and remake us.

SJM's lifelong best friend Jenn TITTERED in the comments (I'm not going to post pictures of her account proving their friendship because she's a teacher with a private life, but her account is public) and SARAH J. MAAS'S HUSBAND liked the post.

I mean, for Sarah's crew to roll up on a semi small bookstagram account claiming he has tea from the Suriel and that ACOTAR six will make and break us all, and that something is coming... That's pretty legit to me. I've never seen her people pull up like this on small accounts claiming an announcement is coming.

So again, this is all surrounding 21. May 21st. If we are going to see new chapter 21 representation until May 21st (and it makes total sense to me that the Valkyrie passage is pinned to further draw attention to 21, which seems to be the point of the marketing) we will land on Elain on May 21st.

Find me when you wish to begin.

[acourtofthought]

"Once you get to the end of ACOSF, I think you'll know who the next book is about"

The first page of ACOSF:

Page 564:

Page 566:

Page 574:

The very last page of ACOSF:

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I think I need that "Wow, I haven't stubbed my toe in five months! I was then shot fifty-seven times." Audio again

[naneki-maid]

so I get what Bree is saying in feeling betrayed—having been lied to, but it is just so funny and twisted hearing her say “I thought this was something special…there wasn’t any part of this that was mine!” like?? oh to be the mysterious mistress that she thought she was? what a sick and bizarre position to covet. and idk maybe the foundation of something special doesn’t begin with having an affair with a 45 year old man.

[figureitoutinthemorning]

He has decided to join me for Floor Time.

[laggs-cringe-corner]

i am not immune to family reunion

[alexjcrowley]

I was checking Daniel Craig's Bond Movies and

First of all, they're far less than I thought. Second, from the perspective of someone who doesn't really know her James Bond and, from what she does know, doesn't like the saga, they are, in order:

1) The one with Mads Mikkelsen. I vaguely remember a bloody shower. Eva Green plays someone named Vesper? I was half asleep in a hotel room somewhere in Europe when I watched this for the first and only time.

2) Written during the first Screenwriters Strike and you can tell (I remember someone said that their cinema professor in college used the opening sequence of Quantum of Solace to show how not to direct an action scene)

3) As someone who doesn't like James Bond, I love this. I love Skyfall so much. I am obsessed with it. I have watched it 5 times. I will watch it again many, many more. Everything about this movie compels me. I feel it's specifically because it seems to be the less Bond-like.

4) Sucks so bad I read a brilliant fanfiction (here's the link) about how this shit was made up by James Bond in a false report and even M was like "Jesus Christ this doesn't make any sense if you want to falsify a report you have to at least make it believable".

5) It seemed like everybody hated that one for some reasons. I didn't like it, but I generally do not like James Bond's movies, so I don't count. Rami Malek was there. The soundtrack was written by Billie Eilish. Ana De Armas was hot for those like 15 minutes she was there. They mentioned "Berlusconi bunga bunga" at some point and it scarred me for life.

[dennisboobs]

most annoying thing about being me is that i cannot engage with like. any fanon shit about dennis because i'm constantly on some advanced derangement and the stuff i thought two years ago when i was first getting comfy in the fandom is still the way everyone else looks at dennis but i'm like. yes but its Worse than this. you're like a quarter of the way there. this isn't the interesting bit, this is a symptom of it, keep going.

[neverendingford]

.

[l48yr1nth]

im going to make an emo anime wolf oc hes gonna be soooo edgy and powerful nobody can stop me

[widevibratobitch]

i hate them with a passion

[dirkxcaliborn]

I think it's really cruel to feel awkward and exhausted and uninterested while interacting with people, but end up feeling lonely and disconnected when alone. You shouldn't be forced to crave things you're ill-suited for. You shouldn't be forced to struggle and fail and be miserable when you try and miserable when you don't.

[rosenecklaces]

Elain Archeron the bringer of doom (howling like a ravid dog)

[solaceseven]

breath of fresh air

you storm out in the middle of an argument. featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, toji fushiguro.

GOJO - the second you stormed out, gojo was right behind you.

you heard his footsteps almost immediately, quick and determined. of course, he wasn’t going to just let you go—not without a fight.

“leave me alone, gojo,” you snapped over your shoulder, picking up your pace.

“nope.”

you groaned. “i need space.”

“i need you to not walk around alone at night,” he countered, effortlessly keeping up.

you whirled around, frustration bubbling over. “i can protect myself.”

gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know you can. you’re strong, way too strong for me, honestly—i think about it all the time, actually, how you could probably throw me into the sun if you really tried—”

“gojo.”

“right, right, focus.” he exhaled. “i know you can handle yourself. that’s not the point. i just—please, come back home.”

you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. gojo loved your stubbornness—adored it, actually. but right now, he just wished you’d listen to him.

when you didn’t say anything, he groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “come on—don’t make me get on my knees.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“oh, i would. right here. in the middle of the street.”

you rolled your eyes, turning to keep walking. when you finally took in your surroundings. without even realizing it, you’d walked all the way to a 7-eleven.

gojo followed your gaze, then brightened immediately. “oh? a sign from the heavens?” he turned to you with a grin. “ramen?”

you sighed, and gojo, ever the opportunist, pressed on. “my treat.”

“you always pay,” you deadpanned.

“exactly! so, technically, i didn’t even have to say that—but i did, because i’m a generous and loving boyfriend.”

you exhaled, shaking your head. “…yeah, okay.”

gojo beamed like you had just accepted a marriage proposal. “knew you couldn’t resist me.”

you shot him a glare, but he just threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you inside like you hadn’t just been arguing minutes ago.

as he grabbed entirely too many snacks, sneaking extras into your basket with a shit-eating grin, you felt the weight in your chest ease just a little.

you weren’t done being mad at him—not completely. but as he stood beside you at the register, arms full of junk food, nudging you with his elbow like a lovesick fool, you realized—

yeah. you’d be okay.

GETO - suguru doesn’t stop you.

not because he doesn’t care—no, quite the opposite. he watches as you grab your coat, as you storm out, and he lets you go. he knows you need space, and he respects that.

but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to find you.

you don’t know how long you’ve been walking, the frustration from your argument still lingering, but eventually, you find yourself stopping by a quiet street corner. you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face, trying to steady your thoughts—

and then you hear it. a smooth, familiar voice from behind you.

“you’re really making me work for it tonight, huh?”

you whip around, only to see geto standing there, hands tucked casually into his sleeves, watching you with that unreadable expression of his.

you glare. “how did you even find me?”

he tilts his head, amused. “you’re predictable.”

you huff, crossing your arms. “if you’re here to drag me home, don’t bother.”

geto steps closer, slow and easy. “i’m not dragging you anywhere.”

you raise an eyebrow. “then what do you want?”

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “you’re upset. i get it. but you know i hate leaving things like this.” he steps beside you, hands still tucked into his sleeves. “so, i figured i’d come find you.”

you don’t answer right away, staring at the ground. then, without warning, your eyes begin to sting. you blink rapidly, willing the tears away, but it’s too late—geto sees it instantly.

his expression shifts, the tension in his shoulders vanishing in an instant. before you can turn away, he’s already in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks with the kind of gentleness that makes your chest ache.

“hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs, tilting your face up to him. “don’t cry.” his thumbs brush lightly under your eyes, catching the first traces of tears. “look at me.”

you do, even though it only makes your throat feel tighter.

his brows furrow, guilt flashing across his face. “i’m sorry, okay?” his voice is soft, sincere. “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

you swallow hard, blinking up at him. “…you were being an ass.”

a small, breathy chuckle leaves him. “yeah,” he admits. “i was.”

you sniff, and he immediately wipes away another tear before it can fall, his touch warm and steady. “but i didn’t mean to be,” he continues. “you know that, right?”

you nod.

geto exhales, relief evident in his expression. his hands don’t leave your face, his thumbs still tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“come home?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you glance away, mumbling, “still mad.”

“i know.” his lips quirk into a small smile. “you can be mad at me at home, too.”

a pause. then, finally—

“okay.”

he doesn’t say anything, just lets his forehead rest lightly against yours for a moment before taking your hand in his, squeezing it once before leading you back home.

NANAMI - the argument had left a bitter weight in your chest, one that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you wanted to. the walls of your shared home felt too tight, too suffocating, so you did the only thing that made sense—you grabbed your coat and walked out.

you didn’t have a destination in mind, just the simple need to move, to put some distance between you and the words that had been thrown too carelessly.

at first, you thought you were alone. but then, a few blocks in, you heard it—steady, familiar footsteps trailing behind you.

you sighed. “kento.”

a pause. “hm?”

you turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder. sure enough, he was there. hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, but present nonetheless. he didn’t try to walk beside you, didn’t call your name or tell you to come home—he was just there.

“you don’t have to follow me,” you muttered.

nanami exhaled slowly, adjusting his tie as he kept his pace behind you. “i know.”

and yet, he didn’t stop.

you didn’t push him away, either.

the night air was crisp, the streets quiet save for the occasional car passing by. you walked, and he followed. neither of you spoke. the argument still lingered between you, raw and unhealed, but for some reason, his quiet presence made it easier to breathe.

eventually, your feet carried you to the park. it was empty this late, just dimly lit by a few scattered streetlights. you found yourself heading toward the swing set, your steps slowing as you lowered yourself onto one of the swings. the chains creaked slightly under your weight.

nanami hesitated for only a second before taking the swing next to you. he didn’t say anything, just sat there, hands resting on his thighs, eyes fixed ahead.

the silence stretched, not uncomfortable, just… there.

after a long moment, you broke it.

“we’re going to be okay, right?” your voice was quieter than you intended, but you didn’t correct it.

nanami didn’t answer immediately. he let out a slow breath.

“yeah,” he said, firm, certain. “we’re going to be okay.”

and for the first time since the argument, you let yourself believe it.

SUKUNA - the door had barely swung shut before you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

you had barely made it down the front steps when a clawed hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you to a stop.

sukuna’s grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—unrelenting. “where do you think you’re going?” his voice was low, edged with something unreadable.

you didn’t turn to face him. “i need to cool off.”

his fingers twitched against your skin. “tch. you can cool off inside.”

you exhaled sharply, attempting to pull away, but he didn’t let you. his grip remained steady, grounding. “i don’t want to be inside right now, sukuna.”

“and i don’t want you wandering off alone.”

you finally turned, eyes burning with frustration. “i can take care of myself.”

his expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his crimson gaze. “i know you can.” his tone softened, just barely. “that’s not the point.”

silence settled between you, tense and heavy. the night air was cool against your skin, the world around you quiet. your breathing was uneven, your heart still pounding from the argument. you wanted to be stubborn, to keep walking just to prove a point.

but sukuna didn’t let go.

for a long moment, he just looked at you. not with anger, not with amusement—just quiet, unreadable intensity. and then, after a sigh that sounded almost reluctant, his grip loosened. his hand slid down to take yours, fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt less like restraint and more like holding on.

“come back inside,” he muttered. his voice wasn’t commanding, not like before. it was something else. something almost pleading.

you hesitated, still upset, still wanting to fight. but his hand was warm, solid, there. the fight had drained out of you, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

after a long pause, you sighed, giving his fingers a small squeeze before turning back toward the house.

sukuna didn’t say anything, just followed beside you, his hand never leaving yours. when you stepped inside, he made sure the door was locked behind you, his movements slow, deliberate. neither of you spoke as he guided you toward the bedroom, the silence no longer suffocating but something quieter, softer.

the argument wasn’t over. you weren’t ready to let it go. but as sukuna’s grip lingered, steady and sure, you knew—

you two were going to be okay.

TOJI - toji doesn’t follow you. at least, not right away.

he watches as you storm out, jaw clenched, arms crossed, your anger still crackling in the air like static. he lets you leave, doesn’t call after you, doesn’t chase you down. he just sits there, rubbing a hand over his face with a deep sigh.

but after a few minutes, he clicks his tongue, grabs his jacket, and heads out after you.

he knows you—knows you’re stubborn, knows you need space, but he also knows it’s late, and he’ll be damned if he lets you wander around alone.

it doesn’t take long to find you. you’re sitting on a bench at some quiet little bus stop, arms hugged around yourself, your knee bouncing impatiently. toji exhales, shoving his hands in his pockets as he makes his way over.

you glance up when he steps in front of you, glaring. “go away.”

“not happening,” he says flatly.

you scoff, turning your head. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

“good,” he deadpans. “cause i ain’t here to talk.”

you blink, caught off guard, looking at him. he just shrugs. “you needed space, so i gave it to ya. now i’m just gonna sit here and shut up.”

and with that, toji plops down onto the bench next to you, spreading his legs wide, leaning back like this is the most natural thing in the world.

you stare at him. “you’re kidding.”

“nah.” he closes his eyes, tilting his head back. “go on. be mad.”

you are mad. but suddenly, it feels a little ridiculous.

the two of you sit there in silence, the sounds of the city buzzing faintly in the distance. the weight of the argument still lingers, but toji’s presence, solid and unshaken, makes it feel smaller. like it’s not going to swallow you whole.

after a while, he cracks an eye open, side-eyeing you. “you done sulking yet?”

you huff. “i’m not sulking.”

“yeah, yeah.” he stretches, rolling his shoulders. “c’mon. let’s go.”

you hesitate. “i dunno…”

he stands up, glancing down at you. “i’ll buy you food.”

you squint. “bribery?”

toji smirks. “call it what ya want. just get up.”

you sigh, but when he holds a hand out to you, you take it. his grip is warm, steady, and when he tugs you to your feet, he doesn’t let go.

“where are we going?” you mumble.

“dunno.” he shrugs. “we’ll figure it out.”

and somehow, that’s enough.

[emmitaaa4]

all of this, a thousand times over.

The seeds Sarah planted for Elain in ACOSF

I don’t know how many times I’ve read that Elain isn’t developed enough to get her own book, but it puzzles me each time. We have seen her grow significantly over the series and despite what some say, Sarah planted many seeds for her arc in ACOSF. This post is long (so many seeds), so take a seat and get comfortable. And if you notice any missing hints that might influence Elain’s story, please share! Many thanks to @offtorivendell for previewing this list and providing feedback.

1. We learn that Elain was Papa Archeron’s princess and they once lived happily together in a manor by the sea. This information seems like the opening of a fairytale. Through Nesta’s POV, we learn more about their childhood experiences. While Nesta was her mother’s creature, Elain was her father’s princess. Her word choice and proximity to a specific parent sets the sisters apart, in turn making their perspectives and development different. Nesta’s mother honed her ruthlessness and taught her how to scheme her way into a formidable match. And we are shown Elain’s heir-like resemblance to her father in their warm brown eyes, association with love and beauty, and desire to travel.

“We weren’t always poor. Until I was fourteen, my father was as rich as a king. They called him the Prince of Merchants.”

He gave her a tentative smile. “And you were his princess?”

Ice cracked through her. “No. Elain was his princess. Even Feyre was more his princess than I ever was.”

Even their gods-damned father had a portrait on the wall along one side of the grand staircase: him and Elain, smiling and happy, as they’d been before the world went to shit. Sitting on a stone bench amid bushes bursting with pink and blue hydrangea. The formal gardens of their first home, that lovely manor near the sea. Nesta and their mother were nowhere in sight.

2. Mama Archeron once predicted Elain would wed for love and beauty (which, as others have pointed out before, sounds an awful lot like lovely beauty), and comments dismissively that she doesn’t dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. Nesta absorbed her every word, and channeled her mother when she told Elain to return to her little garden in a heated argument. She later challenges Nesta on her hypocrisy when she tries to keep Elain from living beyond the safety of her garden. And thanks to the Cauldron, we know she now dreams far beyond anyone else in this realm. It seems we have more to learn about what the middle Archeron sister wishes to make of her life.

My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen … You shall wed for conquest.

Elain is pleasant to look at, her mother had once mused while Nesta sat beside her dressing table, a servant silently brushing her mother’s gold-brown hair, but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes.

That fast, the power in her receded, vanishing into smoke on the wind. Leaving only exhaustion weighing her bones, her breath. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Go back to Feyre and your little garden.”

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

3. Elain’s relationship with Nesta is strained and evolving from their past. Elain used to trail after Nesta to comfort her when she had awful arguments with Feyre. She catered to her needs, and in turn, Nesta defended her as a mother would. Elain’s absence in the intervention scene is therefore significant and indicates a shift in their relationship. She does not reinforce their past dynamic, and in later confrontations, seems to challenge it directly. Based on the evidence below, her presence might’ve simply been used by Nesta to delay the inevitable: getting help to address her addictive behaviors before they destroyed her immortal life. While we are ultimately left with hope for their future, they have yet to discuss their mutual hurts and find a new way forward.

Nesta didn’t bother to look pleasant as Feyre twisted to face her, taking a proper seat on the couch, the velvet cushions sighing beneath her. Her sister swallowed. “We need to make some changes, Nesta,” Feyre said hoarsely. “You do—and we do.” Where the hell was Elain?

&

Feyre swallowed, but didn’t balk. “That is enough. You’re moving up to the House, you’re going to train and work, and I don’t care what vitriol you spew my way. You’re doing it.”

“Elain needs to be able to see me—”

“Elain agreed to this hours ago. She’s currently packing your things. They’ll be waiting for you when you arrive.” Nesta recoiled.

4. In contrast to her sister, we see that Elain has started to heal. She is taking care of her body, has found friends in the Night Court, and is moving on from her heartbreak with Graysen. Does this mean her healing is finished? Of course not. Healing is an ongoing journey. But these clues might indicate that her story will focus less on her healing arc and more on her finding her own voice and using it to be the architect of her destiny. And we’ve already seen glimpses of this through her quiet steel, direct responses, and bold statements (see #6). This might also mean that her counterpart will receive more intentional healing support, while she tries new things with his encouragement.

Tending to the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens—she had purpose, and joy, and friends: those two half-wraiths who worked in Rhysand’s household. But those things had always come easily to her sister. Had always made Elain special.

Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court. Gone were the sharp angles, replaced by softness and elegant curves.

She peered down at herself, bony and gangly. Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows.

Elain cocked her head. Didn’t dissolve into the crying mess she usually became when Graysen came up. Instead she said, “You’re angry with me.”

5. We finally learn Elain’s scent: a delicate mixture of jasmine and honey. Not only is jasmine heavily connected to the Night Court, but like honey it balances opposing forces. It is a flower that soaks up sunlight during the day and blooms at night. It has a soothing scent that can both help someone relax…and heighten their desires. Add some sweet honey to that, and you’ve got yourself a beautiful aphrodisiac (love that for her). In ancient cultures, honey is connected to both life and death; it is specifically included in religious references of land that overflows with plenty (land of milk and honey), and it was also buried with those who had died. Do those words sound familiar? They should. In ACOTAR, the fae Feyre was forced to murder start reciting this before they die: “Cauldron save me / Mother hold me / Guide me to you. / Let me pass through the gates; let me smell that immortal land of milk and honey.” More on that in a future post very soon. But big takeaway: even down to her scent, Elain is a blend of life and death, day and night.

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber.

6. Elain seems to be done with being told what to think and do. She asserts herself and doesn’t balk from others. In fact, she even challenges and dismisses the most powerful characters, Nesta and Rhys. This change in behavior has been building since ACOFAS and it will likely manifest fully in the next book.

“I still wanted to come,” Elain went on with that focused calm, the quiet steel building in her voice. “I wanted to see you, to explain.”

Silver lined Elain’s eyes, but her voice remained steady, sure. “There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.”

Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death?” Challenge filled each word. Challenge—from Elain, of all people. “No one but the King of Hybern is to blame for that.” The quaver in her voice belied her firm words.

When Elain burst into the dining room of the House, Cassian and Rhys were shaking off the frigid air that had been howling through Windhaven. Her brown eyes were bright with tears, but she kept her chin high.

“What happened.” When Rhys spoke like that, it was more of a command than a question. Elain waved a hand in dismissal before flinging open the veranda doors and striding into the open air.

Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”

Elain cut in sharply, “I am not a child to be fought over.”

“Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

7. And she is ready to hone her powers and help her court. Elain accepted the task of tracking down the Trove without hesitation. As we’ve seen in the original trilogy, her powers are extensive and they were critical in the war against Hybern (discovering a missing queen, Koschei’s box, Suriel’s whereabouts, and preventing her family’s deaths). The Night Court will need her powers to outmaneuver those who scheme against them and avoid another devastating war.

Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove—how?” Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to … reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.”

But Elain turned on her heel. “Find me when you wish to begin.” The doors shut behind her.

8. Amren (the ancient who flatters no one) reminds us that Elain is more than capable of defending herself and shouldn’t be underestimated. This is another callback to the times she defended her friends and family in the previous trilogy, to everyone’s surprise. Amren places emphasis on Elain’s capability and choice to determine whether or not she will train. We do not hear anything more about Elain tracking down the Trove, but it is after this point (specifically on solstice) when Nesta wonders if she is, in fact, taking lessons.

Amren said, “We do not have the time to wait for Nesta to decide. I say we approach Elain tomorrow. Better to have both of them working on it.”

Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Cassian and Azriel looked to Rhys, who merely sipped from his own wine. Amren’s order held. As Rhys’s Second in this court, short of Rhys overruling her, her word was law.

9. We learn that she is incredibly observant and has a vivid memory, and when she shares what she knows, it sets important events in motion. Despite what Feyre claims about her in ACOTAR (Elain just doesn’t grasp certain things), Nesta contradicts this by thinking that Elain was the only one who fully grasped her fierce nature and emotional depth. Despite what Nesta said about her being a loyal and loving dog, Cassian contradicts this with realizing that she sees and understands everything Nesta did. Notice a trend of assumptions and contradictions? @onceupona-chaos made a fantastic post about this very topic. SJM is intentionally setting up her character arc with these contradictions, expanding what we know about her, and preparing us for more development. And without the intelligence she provided, we wouldn’t have Nesta’s iconic Court of Nightmares scene or the musical gift from Cassian on solstice.

She had been born wrong. Had been born with claws and fangs and had never been able to keep from using them, never been able to quell the part of her that roared at betrayal, that could hate and love more violently than anyone ever understood. Elain had been the only one who perhaps grasped it, but now her sister loathed her.

&

“I’d forgotten,” Feyre murmured. “About this, and about her dancing.”

“Nesta never spoke of it afterward,” Elain said. “I just observed.”

Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

10. And somehow, she has evaded praise for Hybern’s death…like a spy. Rhys recalled her role in killing Hybern in ACOFAS, but we don’t get a hint of it in Nesta’s point-of-view and she claims the responsibility in ACOSF. Not once does Nesta correct others’ misunderstanding; she embraces it like a warrior. This is curious, but if the next book is focused on spying, it also makes sense. Spies don’t crow about their accomplishments like warriors do as that would blow their cover.

“I know,” Emerie said, releasing Nesta’s hand. “You killed the King of Hybern.”

“Yes.” There was no denying that fact. And she couldn’t bring herself to lie that she wasn’t the least bit smug about it.

&

Merrill bared her teeth. “You think I do not know you? The human girl who was shoved into the Cauldron and came out High Fae. The female who slew the King of Hybern and held up his head like a trophy as his blood rained upon her.”

&

“You slew the King of Hybern,” Gwyn repeated. “With the shadowsinger’s knife.”

“Luck and rage,” Nesta admitted. “And I had made a promise to kill him for what he did to me and my sister.”

11. Elain may be better than Azriel at keeping secrets. She discovers things that others do not (again, observant) and knows how to keep that information private.

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

12. She’s also sneaking around and surprising trained warriors on the regular. We know she’s up to something and Nesta’s thoughts about it might be a hint, but we’ll have to confirm in the next book.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t true. There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around, but the male remained in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa.

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

13. She is riveted by the stories of her sister, her friends, and the legends of the Valkyries. Rhysand uses this opportunity to make a very interesting connection: some Valkyries were as lovely as Elain before they transformed into bloodthirsty creatures like Amren on the battlefield. Is this a hint for the other side Elain is hiding, and the true reason she was asking Amren about changing forms in ACOFAS? Is she a lovely fawn on the outside, and a fanged beast on the inside? We’ve actually seen this transformation before: in ACOWAR, Elain accepted Truth-Teller as the lovely fawn and then became a fanged beast when she stepped out of a shadow, bared her teeth, and slammed Truth-Teller through Hybern’s neck. This change from a soft creature of spring to a fierce creature of darkness also aligns with the myth of Blodeuwedd. Elain can be both soft and fierce, and no, she doesn’t have to choose one over the other.

“We never heard of them in the human lands,” Elain said. She’d been as riveted as Feyre to hear Cassian tell of it: first of Nesta and the others’ interest, then of the brief history of the female fighters. “They must have been fearsome creatures.”

“Some were as lovely as you, Elain,” Rhys said from beside Feyre, “from the outside. But once they set foot into the arena of battle, they became as bloodthirsty as Amren.”

14. Like her sisters before her, she will also have to address the mating bond, but Elain might have more than one bond to choose from. SJM uses specific language when Nesta thinks about Elain and Feyre growing closer—she thinks about the bond Elain had chosen. She could have written something else, like the sister Elain had chosen, but she didn’t. Instead, she decided to make us think about a choice Elain may have between bonds.

Elain and Feyre—that was the new status of things. The bond Elain had chosen.

15. When she is in the presence of her mate, Elain loses all her newfound boldness. If Sarah wanted to pursue an endgame between Elain and Lucien, this would have been the perfect opportunity to plant seeds for it. Instead, we see their mutual discomfort and disinterest. Lucien doesn’t even use her name, only referring to Elain as “his mate” when asked about her. Elain doesn’t buy a gift for Lucien, barely thanks him for her own gift, sits as far away from him as possible, and withdraws in his presence. He, in turn, is disappointed and pained yet again. Sarah persisted with this dynamic intentionally, and she consequently made it very hard for readers to root for them…because mate or no, who wants to read a story where the male accepts his fate despite his perpetual disappointment and the female slowly, but surely, loses her spark of life? It is painful to read even now, so unless we want more of this sad dynamic, the bond needs to be addressed in the next book.

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?” “I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get. Azriel remained in the doorway.

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

16. In contrast, Elain behaves demurely around Azriel. She avoids lingering eye contact and smiles shyly at him. Cassian’s thoughts prompt us to wonder why, and close readers may at this point put together the clues Sarah has sprinkled throughout the book, from Azriel’s reactions to Elain’s behavior. And on solstice we have an answer to our suspicions, thanks to Nesta’s keen observation: when their gazes linger, something charged is exchanged between them. This interaction parallels what we see between Nesta and Cassian—their gazes linger and something goes taut between them—to help us understand what is growing between Elain and Azriel: romantic tension.

“I always thought she was born on the wrong side of the wall,” Elain admitted. “She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,” she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.

“I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

And our Nessian parallel:

Nesta grew still as Cassian’s gaze met hers. The space between them went taut, the sounds of the exercising priestesses fading into nothing, the sky an azure blur above, the wind a distant caress on her cheeks— “You too, Archeron,” he ordered, pointing to where Emerie and Gwyn now exercised, apparently doing their best not to laugh. “Do another fifteen.” Nesta threw a scowl at all of them and began her curls again. That was why she’d been avoiding eye contact with him.

17. We are also conveniently told that Elain is not a virgin. We learn that she not only slept with Graysen, but she also seemingly enjoyed it. Sarah felt this detail was important enough to include, and when we’re thinking about her writing preference for heroines, it makes sense. Sarah prefers to write about romance from the perspective of a female who has been intimate before.

Nesta snorted. “You’re living amongst beings who have none of our human primness, you know.” Elain squared her shoulders again, just as Nesta added, “It’s not like you and Graysen didn’t act on your feelings.” It was a low blow, but Nesta didn’t care. She knew Elain had given her maidenhead to Graysen a month before they’d been turned Fae. Elain had been glowing the next morning.

18. Elain indicates that she’s ready for more intimacy with Azriel. The interaction on solstice demonstrates that (1) Elain sees and understands Azriel without him needing to explain himself, (2) she gets him, but not her mate, thoughtful gifts that lift his spirits, (3) she is very attracted to him and wants more than glances and touches. And all of that is reciprocated: (1) Azriel reads her easily without the use of his powers, (2) he gets her a romantic gift that matches her character, one she wants to wear immediately, and (3) he is drawn to her and even exhibits mate-like thoughts (touch, smell, taste) that are typical for Sarah’s fae males. Most importantly, both of them lower their guard around each other and seek the other’s intimacy, despite past trauma, heartache, fear, etc. The charge between them is primal (like Nessian’s): Azriel is turned on by the thought of how she might taste, and Elain is turned on by his touch. This is more than casual relations. Both could seek that out in a heartbeat without issue. This attraction is nail-scratching, mountain-trembling, soul-cleaving romantic chemistry.

She hadn’t bought her mate a present. But she’d gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he’d done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there. […]

Elain murmured, “You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you.” He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. “No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.” Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t have appreciated the joke.”

He offered her a smile back. “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present.” He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, asleep a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn’t stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain’s large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?” His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.

He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel’s fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck.

He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue—Azriel’s cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn’t peer down. Prayed she didn’t understand the shift in his scent.

Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again. Elain shuddered, drifting close. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars.

“Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel’s hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain’s mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head towards hers.

19. Elain is hiding another side, even from her family. We can see this in her confrontations with Nesta and it is discussed specifically in Feyre and Rhysand’s bonus chapter. This is a very clear hint about Elain’s character arc, one Sarah intentionally highlighted for readers. Elain isn’t sweet and innocent (none of Sarah’s characters are). And their conversation reminds us that, as a gardener, she is used to getting her hands dirty and torn for a pretty result. Why else tease this information now if Sarah didn’t plan to show us what this looks like in the next book?

Rhys asked, “Have you ever seen Elain act like that before?”

“No.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Rhys’s gaze tracked the movement. “I mean, she’s been brave when she had to be, but she’s never been confrontational.”

“Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way.”

I whipped my head toward him. “You think I stifle her?” Rhys held up his hands. “Not you alone.” He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.” He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge.”

&

I glowered at Rhys. “You think Elain’s boring?”

“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”

“And torn up by thorns,” I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves. The thorns had broken off in her skin, leaving sharp splinters that I’d had to pull free.

20. Elain will be the next one to experience the Night Court’s family intervention. The final hint in Feyre and Rhysand’s bonus chapter is also clear, and it echoes the conversation Feyre and Elain had in ACOWAR. Now that Nesta is on a healing path, it is Elain’s turn for help. For reasons I have already covered, it likely won’t look the same as her sister’s journey, but it will involve finding her voice, making choices about her life, and embracing her whole self (even that other side).

I sighed, absently rubbing my still-flat stomach. “Let’s focus on helping one sister before we start on the other.”

“Agreed,” Rhys drawled.

Although Elain was not active in Nesta’s healing journey (and based on their past dynamic, I would argue that she shouldn’t have been in order for Nesta to grow and start their relationship anew), Sarah planted many hints throughout ACOSF for her story. These hints parallel what we see for Nesta in ACOFAS: thoughts and comments from other characters, such as Cassian, Feyre, and Elain, with very few on-page interactions. Her story gave us a clear conflict that was necessary to resolve first. And now, with Elain, Sarah has set up clear inner and romantic conflicts for her story that need to be resolved next:

Inner conflicts: struggling to find her voice and embrace her full self, including the other side that she’s felt the need to hide

Romantic conflicts: enduring an unwanted mating bond, familial and political obstacles that stand in the way of romantic fulfillment

Overarching conflicts: allies refusing to sign treaty, mole(s) in the Night Court, scheming from Beron, queens, and Koschei, a mysterious fourth Trove item, and a missing Bryaxis

Paired with clues about her Made power, social skills, observational skills, stealth, secret-keeping, and potential training, she is ideally poised to address several of the overarching conflicts with her friends, family, and love interest:

We have a fae territory on the continent that is proving difficult to convince, and a female who can supposedly convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.

We have moles in the Night Court who will need to be discovered and dealt with, and someone who has Cauldron-blessed abilities to hear, see, and track things that others do not. Bonus: she also has a strong connection to the Spymaster and spies in his employ.

We have a powerful death-god who would love to escape his leash and cause mass chaos, and a Made seer who has had visions involving him even though he is not woven into the fabric of this realm (which was the limit of the Suriel’s knowledge). With training, who knows what information she can access on Koschei, those who are working for him, and his plans?

There is a fourth Trove item shrouded in shadow that Nesta could not see, and a deadly monster on the loose. Would Nesta be able to track them both down with her remaining power? Or would a seer—who has her full powers and doesn’t require bones and stones to track things, including foreign beings—be better equipped for the job?

Elain as the next main character not only makes sense based on all the seeds Sarah planted in ACOSF alone, but her story is also necessary to move the plot forward with her power and role. It’s time for her family to come and find her, so she can finally begin.