#JAPETH YEAR

[wisteriaum]

OMG ITS YEAR OF THE SNAKE.

[secretly-a-catamount]

Despite Rhian being both Evelyn and Rafal’s favorite, Japeth is actually the one who’s most like them.

He killed his brother and then stole his identity, all to raise his lover from the dead, a lover who never loved him at all.

They loved Rhian because he was what they wanted to be. Good.

They hated Japeth because he was what they were. Evil.

[discjude]

(From Soman's substack)

ignoring the fact that uh. three years away. i would like to present my two theories as to What This Is

its the Grown Up SGE thing he talked about a while ago. This makes so much sense: it's decently far enough into the future that he can be sure the audience that grew up with SGE is old enough to read a more mature take on the series, and it'll have a nice wide appeal to anyone who likes the books. Solid option

2. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ARBED PREQUEL PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Consulting the expert @discjude?

[atropinenightshade]

If Rhian One and Japeth had access to MLP, they'd probably love Queen Chrysalis.

[fourleafclovxr]

(AU where the tale of sophie & agatha ends with the first book, rafal never stored his soul with evelyn, and sophie & agatha return to the school afterwards)

Not many people attend the funeral.

A few of Professor Sader's former students do, which is surprising. They're all historians and academics and authors, and they burn miniature copies of their books for him, raised dots shining on the paper. Some of them are familiar with the School for Good's vast grounds; some, those who were Never students, are not. But they close ranks like it doesn't matter at all.

Agatha learns, from Professor Dovey, that Professor Sader was a much more involved teacher before them. To Evers and Nevers alike. He'd distanced himself from their year; probably because he knew what was coming next. She sniffles a little as she says it.

Professor Sader's two older brothers are both there; both must be seventy at the least. The oldest, January, burns drawing paper and fine sets of paint, his face desolate. He speaks of Professor Sader like he raised his younger brother, and from what Professor Dovey says he practically did. How it must hurt, for your brother to leave you behind one final time.

His husband Matthew drops a stack of notes into the flames, the familiar dots glittering on the surface. He'll place a hand on Agatha's shoulder, later, and thank her for coming; tell her that Professor Sader was waiting for her, all this while. January will turn away, so Agatha doesn't have to see him cry.

July is the second brother, and he lingers a distance away from the casket. He doesn't burn anything, but he does step closer— just for a second— and whisper something Agatha doesn't want to hear.

Professor Sader has a sister, too. A half-sister. Her name is Evelyn, and Professor Dovey speaks of her with a quiet exhaustion. She taught at the School once. She doesn't return: not to see her brothers, not to say goodbye.

But one of her sons does. Rhian, he says softly when Professor Dovey asks. He looks very much like Professor Sader did; maybe that's why the adults can't bear to look at him, at the Sader who still has his whole life ahead of him. He never knew his uncle. January sent them the invitation anyway. His twin brother Japeth hadn't seen the need to go; but Rhian had always wanted a family.

The Sader brothers are kind to him. But they don't look at him. He goes to stand next to Agatha instead, like some odd pair of cousins. She doesn't object.

Who else? Not even the faculty attend. Most of them made no secret that they thought him insane. There's Professor Dovey, of course, and Lady Lesso by her side, for once silent. They each burn little paper models of houses: Professor Dovey's is a model of his rooms in the School, and Lady Lesso's is a replica of the Library of Virtue.

Then there's Callis. Agatha hadn't even known they knew each other. But she received an invitation from January, along with Agatha's, and their whole twisting story had come out. Their mutual respect, as researchers, as academics. Their friendship. The way Professor Sader had saved Callis' life, given her a way out of the Woods, just as he'd saved Agatha's. Just as he'd saved the School. Callis burns him paper clovers, the smoke reflecting in her gaze, curling up into the distant sky.

And Agatha rounds it off. She hadn't known Professor Sader, not really. But he'd known her. He'd cared.

He might have been something like a father to her, in some other life.

Just not this one.

She burns her copy of The Tale of Sophie and Agatha for him. She'd transcribed it, with Callis' help, into those patterns of raised dots. Professor Sader had never gotten to read it. He'd given his life for it. She thinks he's owed at least this much.

Thank you, she says quietly to him, as the smoke rises. She hopes that he can hear. She'll make sure people remember that it's his story, too.

[sarascamander]

Am I the only one imagining all the characters in The Camelot Year to be in their early twenty???? Because I legit couldn't imagine them as little kids with the plot that's going on. Agatha and Tedros is engaged, Tedros is being King, Sophie is engaged and forced to get married. She is also a Dean. Agatha and the gang are literally being hunted, people are dying, Japeth and Rhian's charisma..... Nope. What do you mean they're teens?? They haven't even graduated yet!?!?

[nothing-to-see-hi]

Everything I currently have about the siren Rhian au that I keep bothering his tag with.

Okay so, 1, sirens are typically powerful people who were cursed by other powerful people. Yes, I am basing this off of Persephone's myth.

On that note, no, they are not the bird sirens. Usually. Rhian is not a bird siren at least.

Summing up my previous post about the origins, at the end of Fall, Rhian tries to stab Rafal only to end up cursed as a siren in the middle of nowhere instead. He ends up going kinda feral and is running off of hatred by the time we catch up to him in The Camelot Years.

Hort knows. You cannot tell me that the guy who grew up on Hook's ship doesn't know about sirens. Particularly the one who has been going after the Hook family for 200-ish years.

Anyway, how we get to Rhian in the first place.

Hort, being the guy who's familiar with the sea and whatnot, tells them not to take a right at the fork because that's where a siren is and they end up taking a right at the fork anyway.

Enter the boyo

So who is on this ship? Sophie's on this ship. And what does Sophie absolutely reek of? Rafal's magic. And who does Rhian want to tear limb from limb more than anything in the world? Rafal!

A storm is conjured and the singing begins. To cut matters short, Sophie gets some nice claw marks on her face and Rhian gets blasted off the ship.

Cut to around the time where Sophie has the scims in her ears.

Twins v2. Electric Boogaloo kidnapped their uncle and tried to little mermaid him. It partially worked. Rhian's got legs again and regained a bit of himself. Bad news: the legs go away whenever he gets wet and the scims are in his throat so he can't talk, or sing, or use basically any of what little magic he has left.

Does this stop him from attempting to add a sub romance plot to what is already a subplot? No!

Enter nameless kitchen boy. Who for some reason I gave a vague family backstory. Japeth catches them making out in a closet.

Now why is Rhian in Camelot? The twins v2 want to lure out Rafal because they can't have the healing powers + wife + Aric if he's still alive

Also Rafal kept his limp and at least occasionally uses a cane because the Storian is not letting either of them go unpunished for the events of their books.

How is he alive? Idk. Idc.

Anyway at some point there is a massive battle between twins v1. in Camelot's throne room where Rhian seems to get some of his old powers back. At least temporarily.

Depending on your angst levels Rhian might die at the end of it. Or he survives and goes off to lick his wounds with his love interest. Either one.

They might vaguely appear at the ending in a crowd or something. Maybe Japeth brought his siren reinforcement in case something went wrong with the sword hunt. Idk again.

Misc.

Sophie and Rafal might have a Talk about how screwed up his entire family is.

And if there's anything he can do about her face

Rhian is used by v2. as the proper weapon he is and I could not be prouder

He also uses his undetermined relationship label guy to see what's going on around the castle

Is this all of it? No. Is it most of it? Yeah. If there are any questions they will happily be answered.

[finalgirlagatha]

Do you think you could write a little blurb of that Rhian and Kei being exiled together thing you were talking about? Like just a paragraph or two? (No pressure or intention to be rude! And I totally understand if you don't!)

sure, I don't mind! this was actually a lot of fun to write! i do have to point you to the second part of kates never tedros au, where kei and rhian are actually exiled together, linked here. the fic is barely about them, but it's where the idea originates (for me). the following blurb is just a hypothetical au where japeth dies, the two live exiled and alone in their failure. shout-out to this ask where i broke it down. the funny thing is I actually had a document titled DEAD DOGS ARE JUST HAPPY YOU'RE THERE with an idea like this that I never got around to finishing, so this was very interesting to write. sorry it took me so long, but I hope you enjoy regardless:)

"It's grown quite tiresome," Kei snaps. "Your silence routine. There are things to be done, unless you're set on drinking yourself to an early grave?"

Rhian doesn't look at him. His cheek, bandaged, shows a flush from the drink, bitter and intoxicating in the air. Rhian never drank before. He believed it made men foolish and loose-lipped, and easy to manipulate.

It turned out, he himself wasn't immune from such manipulations from a pretty mouth. The thought made Kei's insides clench, as they had been throughout the journey to the great wooded land.

"I don't know what you want from me."

His voice shook Kei, it was still, immune from the drink. Still and as solemn as it had ever been, unaffected.

"I want you to stop being so childish," Kei snapped. "I want you to be yourself. This isn't you."

"I don't know what that means anymore," Rhian says. He turns away, slouching his great shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kei scoffed. "Of course you do."

"No, I don't," Rhian's voice took a dangerous tone, a tone of warning Kei had often heard when in Camelot, most of the time, even directed towards himself. "I'm not the son of Camelot. I'm hardly the son of Evelyn. The man who is my father is no closer to me than Arthur himself. All of this, all those years... for naught. Japeth is dead, mother is dead. And you," he scoffed. "Frankly, I don't know what to do with you."

Do with him. As if he was a toy, a yo-yo to be played between his royal fathers. Ly's words haunt him, you'll never be more than a tool. A means to an end.

"Perhaps I'll leave."

"You couldn't," Rhian says. "You could try, but you'll come crawling back. You always do, weighing me down... dragging me towards your filth."

"I didn't know I was such a burden," he said.

"A burden? Don't flatter yourself, you're nothing at all," Rhian said.

Kei didn't breathe. He didn't even move, he stood still. This used to empower him, his silence and stillness. Now, it was a prison.

They were all they had in the world, and Rhian still didn't want him.

But their circumstances, for once, comforted him.

If Kei was nothing, Rhian was less than that.

Rhian's hazed eyes, weighed by a depression, snap open as he feels an actual weight on his back. "What are you doing, you-"

Kei pressed harder, forcing Rhian to lean down. Rhian was at a disadvantage and he knew it. He was forced, slumped into a position. "And what are you?" Kei asked. "You fool. You're nothing but a joke, with your delusions of legacy and power. You're no better than me, and you know it."

"You're scum," Rhian grits, and forces himself out of his slouch with such force, shaking Kei's press on him. Rhian takes this to his advantage and grabs his legs, tackling him to the ground. "You've always been scum, and now you think we're equals? I tasted something greater."

"And for what?" Kei repeats. "For naught."

Rhian's eyes are wild, wilder than he's ever seen them. It's a welcome change from the depression that's consumed him. Kei's always been good at breaking him in and out of moods.

"I-" Rhian began, but Kei denied him, kneeing him in the gut and forcing him off of him. He clambered over Rhian, grabbed his hair, and forced his head down.

"You are no better than me," Kei says. "And you hate it. You're not the king, Rhian. You're not the Lion, you're not the long lost son. This doesn't mean you're nothing. It just means you're a man at the center, and I think that's what you've always been scared of."

All Foxwood bred was men, men for the purposes of being lesser, for the purposes of being tools. Kei understands. He understands Rhian better now than he ever has.

He understands why this scares Rhian so. Out here, they are nothing than what they were born as, and what they made of themselves.

Rhian stares at him, wide-eyed. Kei relishes in it. Oh, to finally have all of him. This force, under his hand, as he spent so many years under his. "We could still have a life," Kei says. "It won't be grand, but it'll be something."

When Rhian speaks, his voice is raw and still. "Something is good," Kei lets go of him, sitting back. “I never wanted you to see me like this. Out of everyone... I never wanted you to."

Kei thinks about his own farm and father, the faceless thing that he was. He remembers his hands and voice, the boom of it. Years he spent worrying maybe he'd never see Rhian at the center of it, beyond the kingly persona. Now, it's all they have.

“I like you like this," he decides. “You're real. When we were boys... even when you were King, I couldn't believe you were real.”

Rhian stares at him, and shakes his head. "Of course you do. Farmboy that you are. There's... never been anyone else, you know.”

He means nobody else who can see him as he is. Of course there's not. Rhian can be manipulated and jerked around, he can lose, be stripped down to nothing, but Kei will always see him for what he is.

“I know.”

Kei gets off, but Rhian pulls him back in by the arm. "Don't leave," he says. "Promise you won't leave."

"Where could I go?" Kei asks.

It's not much of a question, there's no answer to it. There's never been nothing outside of Rhian, and now the reverse is true.

They can have something, out here.

[secretly-a-catamount]

WIP for a fanfic, I guess

  Dinner was a tense affair. The meal itself was lovely, of course, Camelot’s chefs not knowing how to make any other kind. A lush, creamy, goat-milk, lemon, and mint soup with a side of pan-fried potatoes wedges. Six separate salads, three of which were composed entirely of fruit. Roasted nuts and seeds dipped in a salty black sauce. Cuts of nearly every kind of meat imaginable, waterfowl and poultry, white meat and black meat, livestock and game, all so tender they bled juice the moment a knife sliced through their crust.

  Sophie ventured into the topic of conversation near the start of the sixth course. Her jade green eyes focused on the man seated across the table from her, taking note of the fact that his plate was a mirror of her own, treated more like a prop than something he was actually going to use.

  “Japeth, darling, do tell me about yourself. Your brother and I already get along so swimmingly”—sitting on her right, Rhian gave a wane smile, as if he was amused with her half-truth—“and since we’re going to be roommates I thought—“

  Japeth’s head snapped up. “What did you just say?”

  “There’s no need to throw a hissy-fit around it, I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Sophie sniffed, nibbling on the edge of a cucumber sandwich, “your brother’s the one who suggested it.”

  “Than he can un-suggest it.” Japeth snarled, tightened his grip on his knife, wearing the resigned expression of a dog who knew a beating was coming but was too tired to try and defend himself.

  Rhian didn’t look up. In the low light cast from the fireplace at the other end of the room the scar on his head looked like a thick, pink rat tail. Sophie had to fight the urge to reach over and brush it off.

  “Rhian—“

  “I’m not going to answer you while you’re emotional like this, Japeth, it’s unbecoming for our family.”

  “Rhian—“

  “Control your emotions, Japeth.” Rhian reprimanded, with the inflection of someone who was saying something so obvious it didn’t merit repeating.

  Like wiping a chalkboard clean, Japeth slowly managed to ‘control his emotions’, as Rhian had said, although not without some effort. Sophie was disappointed, she’d been hoping that they’d kill each other.

  “Better?” Japeth spat through clenched teeth.

  “Extremely.”

[discjude]

SO funny that the only explanation for why Aric stabbed Rhian is, in Japeth's words, "because [Rhian] said things about [his and Aric's] friendship" (the full actual quote is "because you said things! About him and me! About our friendship!"). Which is such a funny way of phrasing it because that could mean LITERALLY anything. Soman why would you phrase it like that. genuinely

The only other elaboration we get on the stabbing ever is right after the first line and it's vague as to what it's actually talking about, which is where Rhian says "Because he was a monster / a sadist with no soul" (which. yeah lmao), but that could be either "he stabbed me because he was a monster" OR "I said those things because he was a monster", and the rest of the line supports the second interpretation, so we just???? don't know what made aric do it??????? This is the single most influential event in the series it literally doubled the series' length what do you MEAN there's only ever two lines about it????? ? ? ??? arbed prequel when hello

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Fairy Tales I Associate with SGE

If anyone wants an explanation for any particular choices, I'll oblige!

⸻

August Sader: "The Golden Goose" (German)

Vulcan: "The Bad Wife" (Russian) or "Bluebeard" (German)

Japeth vs. Evelyn: "Mother Holle" (German) or "Diamonds and Toads" (French)

Sophie x Rafal: "The Three Spinners" (German)

("Rapunzel" and "Rumpelstiltskin" are more obvious but inexact answers for Sophie herself.)

Agatha x Tedros: "The Raven" (German)

Rafal: "The Peasant and the Devil" (German) or "The King of the Golden Mountain" (German)

Old TLEA Rafal: "The Duration of Life" (German) or "The Old Man Made Young Again" (German)

Prequel Rhian: "Hans in Luck" (German) or "Faithful John" (German)

Tedros: "The Pink" (German) or "Donkey Cabbages" (German)

Agatha: "The Blue Light" (German) or "Vasilisa the Fair" (Russian)

TCY Rhian: "The White Bride and the Black One" (German) (I chose this one because of the snake pit involved. Still, note the TW: racism. However, to clarify, when "black" is used to describe the devil in other fairy tales, it's not necessarily related to race in the modern sense. We, as modern readers, are probably prone to interpreting "blackness" or "dark little devils" in some tales through a modern viewpoint, so the descriptions become problematic to us, out of their original context. Yet, I will also not dismiss the point that tales can be racist. This one is, while others are more based in symbolism instead of racism directly.)

Japeth: "Our Lady's Child" (German)

[kheleesii]

nsd spirit in me

So, the Gin Kings, huh? Will they be champions again? Oh, I feel it in my bones, that we’re about to witness something epic. Now, let me just say, the fact that I am a total basketball fanatic—well, that shocks people. “You? Into basketball?” they ask, to which I respond, “Um, hello, have you MET me?” I was practically baptized into the PBA life. Sure, I was born in 1997, the same year the legendary Robert Jaworski bid the court farewell, but it feels like I’ve known him since I was still let’s say, a twinkle in my papa's eye. My father? Oh, he’s the true OG fan who raised me on Ginebra’s Never Say Die spirit.

I grew up in the glorious “Fast and the Furious” era, glued to the TV with my papa as we cheered for Ginebra’s every play, screamed over their victories, and yes, I vividly remember that Fiesta Cup Championship in 2008. What a moment! But after that? Years of nail-biting, heart-wrenching, “I-need-to-pick-up-a-hobby-or-I’ll-go-mad” waiting. I’d sit there, wishing and praying, hoping Ginebra would reclaim their title while the nsd spirit in me clung on for life.

And can we talk about my dream life? Because in my dream world, I was Chris Ellis’s girlfriend. Yes, I said it. Don’t laugh—I had actual daydreams about how I’d act all poised and charming courtside as his imaginary partner. You could say I was emotionally invested in the team, okay? But, unfortunately, it wasn’t long before he left. It was my first heartbreak.

Finally, 2016 rolled around, and hallelujah, we were champions again! Coach Tim Cone became the savior, Japeth and Greg were the unbeatable twin towers (both figuratively and literally), and my basketball-enthusiast heart was soaring higher than Japeth's alley-oops. And the Manila Clasico games—they’re like rock concerts for basketball fans, with the coliseum packed to the rafters and roaring with energy.

So here we are again. Ginebra’s poised for another championship run, and all I want is for The Teniente, LA Tenorio, to be the rock-solid leader we’ve always counted on, for Coach Alfrancis to inspire magic in every huddle, and for Coach Tim to whip out strategies so sharp they leave TNT spinning. And let’s not forget the kabarangays—the fans who live and breathe this team. My hopes? That they shout, cheer, and bring the thunder because that’s what fuels the players' fire.

Oh, Never Say Die spirit, do your thing! Let’s make this championship a story for the ages. Go Ginebra! Whether they win or not (but, come on, let’s say "when they win"), we'll be there— rooting for our beloved Gin Kings. Is it too early for confetti? I feel like it’s time for confetti.

xoxo,

khellys

[promptuarium]

JAPHETH with his brother Shem received a blessing from their father, because they both covered his uncovered privates. Then Japeth begat seven sons. The first was Gomer, from whom came the Gomerites, later called Galatians by the Greeks. The second was Magog, from whom came the Magogae, named Scythians by the Greeks. The third was Madai, from whom came the Medes. The fourth was Javan, from whom came the Ionians. The fifth was Tubal, from whom came the Iberians, who are now called Spanish. The sixth was Meshech, from whom came the Meshechini, who were later called the Cappadocians. The seventh was Tiras, who was the first of those called Tirenses, who were later called Thracians by the Greeks. This is all the nations and peoples that began with Japheth. The rest about the three brothers Japheth, Shem, and Ham, who were born of Noah 100 years before the flood, we have already said above. See above.

[fourleafclovxr]

8: hewn

Only one teacher is allowed into the Theatre of Tales, the night before the Circus of Talents. The rest are locked in their rooms, doors spelled shut with a magic far older and more powerful than their own, for all the Dean of Good might try.

But August Sader walks unrestricted in the School; Rafal could not keep him trapped if he tried. Not that he would try. There’s an old analogy about two birds. One that has every luxury in the world, but is kept in a locked cage. Another that has nothing, except for its freedom to come and go as it pleases. The first will fly away as soon as it is able. The second will always come back home.

August is still unsure of which, exactly, Rafal sees him as. Or which he is.

Rafal must know that, in the end, they are not on the same side.

But he is kind to August, or if not kind, at least lenient with him in ways no one else is afforded. Of all his colleagues August alone is allowed the privilege of freely coming and going wherever he desires. He can go home, meet his brothers, meet their children— if they want to see him. He can visit his sister and her twins, Rafal’s twins— if she lets him. Most of the time she doesn’t. The last time he saw Rhian and Japeth was their eighth birthday, the year before Evelyn sent them off to Arbed House.

A lot of the freedoms Rafal allows him are not freedoms at all, really. August would not leave the School if he could help it. He likes it here, really, likes that he’s familiar with the winding steps and the ever-alike classrooms and the intersecting hallways, likes that he knows his way around.

More than that, this is his duty. This School; this post.

And this man, just a man, who knows full well August would never believe his mystique. The School Master is sparing with his name, but he’d given it to August freely: Rafal, or, as I was known before, Rhian. Call me Rafal. My dear brother was wrong about me. He’s dead, now.

August, who had written and animated his first draft of the Student’s History of the Woods about Rafal and Rhian, or the other way around— then promptly burned it— had only nodded. Rafal’s mask had glinted, a blur of silver in August’s vision. I look forward to working with you, my Seer, he’d said.

My Seer. Rafal has always treated him like a possession, a prize. Has always been so proud that August chose to come to him. It is something that is easy to resent.

And yet August chooses to come to him, even now. Chooses to sit and listen patiently as Rafal enchants wooden likenesses of dying princes, on the other side of the Theatre for Tales. He’s spelled them to die with choked-off screams and feeble declarations of Good, though August isn’t sure how they’re dying exactly. It would be disturbing, if they weren’t in a School quite literally raising children to kill each other in their fourth year.

August has been dreaming of these things for years. Before he knew what they were.

He’s been dreaming of Rafal for longer. He knows all this already.

One last scream, and the room drifts mercifully into silence. Rafal turns, his boots clicking neatly on the floor as he makes his way back to the Good side of the theatre, cape sweeping over the floor with more flair than ever necessary.

He comes to a stop in front of August; offers his arm, fingers brushing August’s shoulder. There is not much August can do other than take it, gripping his cane firmly as Rafal pulls him to his feet. Rafal’s hands are, as always, ice-cold.

“You never have anything to say,” Rafal says lightly, half-complaining. “Perhaps this is the year my art finally gets through to you.”

“Our dearly beloved School Master,” August says, acerbic. “An artist. Perhaps you should pursue that, instead.”

“I could say the same about you, my dearly beloved Seer,” Rafal laughs. He seems happy to have gotten a rise out of August at all.

They pause just in front of the wall. August brushes his fingers over the carvings with a gentle touch; the carved knights cough and cry as he does. It’s good workmanship. Rafal has had a hundred years to improve on it, after all. But it’s not a very pleasant experience.

He says as much. “It’s not supposed to be,” Rafal replies, “they’re Evil.” He guides August to a carving of… some monster, or another, one that roars under his touch, spitting a burst of burning sparks. August tugs his hand back reproachfully. Rafal laughs, again.

“I’ll enchant something nicer for Good,” he promises. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Our first Good Seer in generations. Our first Seer with any sort of allegiance.” His voice strays dark as he completes the thought.

“You know very well why I have an allegiance,” August says mildly. It’s his duty; to kill Rafal. There is only one way this story ends.

“We could have been such good friends,” Rafal sighs. “You and I. But then I suppose we would have no reason to be.” He hooks his arm through August’s once again. They play at closeness, the two of them. Or Rafal does, at any rate.

They move to the crystal freizes, on Good’s side of the Theatre. They must be lovely, like everything to do with Good is. The stained glass is pleasantly cool under August’s fingers; he makes out the outline of a rose in bloom.

“I’m thinking of having them bloom as the students enter,” Rafal says idly. “No monsters here.”

“You just resent that Good keeps winning,” August sighs.

“I do,” Rafal admits openly. He has nothing to hide from August. He could not, either way. “There are more carvings, lower down, if you care for them.”

August nudges at the base of the wall with his cane, curious; he kneels to feel the raised patterns. Textured feathers. There, a wing, another. Borne in flight.

“Swans,” Rafal provides. Of course. He’s more predictable than he thinks.

August moves his cane along the wall, then starts walking back towards the other side, cane knocking against the continuous loop of carvings. Twin swans hewn all around the Theatre. A reminder of a promise unfulfilled.

Rafal doesn’t usually care so much.

But, of course, this Circus is special.

“This will be the tale to end all tales,” the School Master says, almost to himself. “Won’t it, August?”

“I don’t take questions,” August says.

“This is what you’re here for, after all,” Rafal continues, as if August had never spoken at all. “What role are you going to play, I wonder? Will we have to be enemies?”

This is the second to last time they will ever meet each other. August has spent years knowing Rafal, years with the idea of him— the shadow of him— living in his head. It was never going to amount to anything more than this.

Will he fly free, out of this gilded cage? Or has he sworn himself to Rafal, and his tale, and his end? You go on, no matter the cost. Seers don’t speak of costs, they only speak of duty.

Either way, both of them are trapped.

“You know,” Rafal says. Almost wistful. “You know, if I had the chance, I would want it to be you.”

[sarascamander]

Okay, review for crystal of time!

1. I adore Sophie in the previous books but now she's my WIFE. SHE SLAYED SO HARD IN THIS ONE. Her pov is my personal favourite to read and I keep waiting for her turn particularly because I love her setting and position. She was held captive, she had to be a bride, she was the closest to the enemies. So I love the fact that we get to know more about the twins through her, I love her struggles and frustration, her scheming and manipulation and the way the enemies are keeping eyes closely to her so every of her actions need to be calculated. Again, she slayed so hard. She was a badass and iconic. Sure Sophie can act like an airhead sometimes but you can't deny that she can be cunning and clever when she wants and she proves that time and time again in this book. This is my favourite book of hers (sorry book 2 Sophie, you have to take second place now).

2. I have a whole rant on Rhian and Sophie on another post. In short, I ship them so hard

3. The first years are adorable!!! I love every and each one of them, they're so cute and small and wholesome.

4. Anadil's rat... OMG GIRLY LET ME HUG YOU (she'd kill me)

5. The author knows what he was doing when he gave us Dovey's perspective. The only comfort I have is that she's with Lady Lesso now, and they're HAPPY TOGETHER.

6. Am I the only one that thinks Agatha and Tedros kind of blend in the background in this? At least in part 1. They were still amazing though and Agatha is rocking it as always.

7. Sophie and Agatha friendship!! Platonic soulmates at its finest, I just stan them so much. They will always love and protect each other and I find them the purest. Also, that scene where they helped Tedros walked and kept him warm is so wholesome!!!!

8. But the way Tedros kept doubting Sophie's loyalty made me want to strangle him honestly. Have some damn faith.

9. Is Aric and Japeth...more than friends? It certainly implied heavily, I think and despite being two matching psychopaths with 0 screentime together, I ship them ngl. There's just something so vulnerable and pure whenever Japeth talked about Aric and the way their relationship is described.

10. Ngl, it was a slow start for me especially in part one and the only pov I find interesting is Sophie's but the plot certainly picked up. However, there are also a lot of Info dumps in my opinion. Suddenly I'm facing a long paragraph that covers like two pages of what happened and has to slough through it.

Initially I want to give it 3 or 4 stars but the ending always leaves a mark and always leaves the biggest lasting impression of the book so it's a 5 for me lmao.