#crescent city witches

[wingedblooms]

Groundings

This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.

A mystic is someone who gains a heightened sense of consciousness and seeks to become one with divine beings. The word mystic derives from the Greek word to close the eyes or lips. When Elain uses powers that are reminiscent of mystics, she does this:

Elain again glanced at the map. At me. Then closed her eyes. Her eyes shifted shifted beneath her lids, the skin so delicate and colorless that the blue veins beneath were like small streams. "It moves...," she whispered. "It moves through the world like...like the breath of the western wind." (acowar)

As I mentioned in The Ancients, an oracle, which derives from the Latin word to pray or to speak, was believed to be a messenger, or conduit, for gods. In acowar, Feyre suspects that Elain hears the whisperings of the Cauldron. She is also more inclined to pray than her sisters, suggesting it to honor her father and using it when her younger sister is in mortal danger.

Had she beheld this, in whatever wanderings that new, inner sight granted her? Had the Cauldron whispered of it while we'd been away? I hadn't the heart to ask her. (acowar)

The Cauldron is connected to a divine trio (Mother, Cauldron, and Fate/Forces That Be) like the Three-Faced Goddess. Mystic and oracular powers seem to complement one another, and would suggest a deep connection with the gods. It makes sense for Elain to be able to gain higher consciousness, become one with gods, and act as a divine messenger and protector through her Sight with a combination of these gifts. I believe Nesta's interlude with the Mother was just the beginning. In The Ancients and The sense chanted, I mentioned that the Blueblood witches were known for their rituals in caverns and forests, and were considered oracles, mystics, and fanatics. The priestesses in the Night Court also have rituals in a cavern.

Gwyn huffed a soft laugh. “In part. We honor the Mother, and the Cauldron, and the Forces That Be. We have a service at dawn and at dusk, and on every holy day.” (acosf)

The dusk service helped Nesta scry with stones and bones. But what about the dawn service, a time of day Elain is repeatedly connected to?

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. (acosf)

Elain wakes with the dawn to garden or bake, but Cassian suspects she wasn’t telling the truth in this scene. What could she have planned? This occurs after she says she can reacquaint herself with her powers, and that her family can find her when they wish to begin. It’s possible she began experimenting with her powers in earnest at this point. On winter solstice, Nesta suspects she might be training with the twins and/or spymaster, so that is one plausible option Sarah wanted to plant. Another possibility (and these can both be true, so it doesn’t have to be one or the other) is that Elain may have sought out knowledge about her gifts at the library and learned about the dawn ritual. Could the ritual the priestesses perform at dawn help Elain understand and hone at least one thread of her Sight? 

As Gwyn poured herself a glass, she said, “At the temple in Sangravah, we had a set of ancient movements that we would go through every sunrise. Not for battle training, but for calming the mind. We did cooldowns after those, too, though we called them groundings. The movements took us out of our bodies, in a way. Let us commune with the Mother. The groundings settled us back into the present world.” (acosf)

The wording here is interesting: the movements took them out of their bodies, in a way, and they used the groundings to settle back into the present world. This ritual sounds like what mystics might be able to do, and it also seems made for Elain for a few different reasons:

the time of day, as she is compared to the dawn;

the concept of drifting away to connect with the divine, as she sometimes behaves as though she isn’t entirely present;

the earthy term to remain tethered to the world, as she is a gardener and brings forth life from the ground.

What if the priestesses in the library do something similar at dawn through ancient movements rather than ancient songs (or both)? While it would make sense for this ritual to take place underground in the same cavern, there might be a reason reclusive Blueblood witches needed access to the wind. Does it help them become an unseen force, help them travel on the wind? I can imagine Elain with her eyes closed, embracing the song of the wind as the sun rises with her consciousness, her soul.

@silverdreamscape theorized about Gwyn and Elain using their powers together, and I think that’s a possibility given the presence of priestesses in the bonus. They will continue to play a part moving forward and one (or several) of them could be helpful as Elain explores her powers since they may also seek to commune with the divine. Like calls to like, after all.

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?” He set down his fork, blinking. (acomaf)

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. “Do you sing?” He blinked. (Azriel’s bonus chapter) 

These conversations are separated by time and space, but they are eerie in their similarity. It’s like the Harp echoing Elain’s earlier words about reacquainting herself with her powers. And it inevitably brings me back to the two glass caverns: could the priestesses, and perhaps Gwyn specifically, function like sister-glass for Elain, linked in song and dreaming? What would it look like to commune with the Mother, or travel with the Cauldron? Something like this, I'd imagine:

I could not remove my hand. Could not pry my fingers away. I was being shredded apart, slowly, thoroughly. I flung my magic out, desperate for any chain to this world to save me, keep me from being devoured by the eternal, awful thing that now tried to drag me into its embrace. [...] Some tether slipped, and my mind slid closer to the Cauldron’s outstretched arms. I felt it touch me. 

And then I was half gone. Half there, standing silently next to the Cauldron, hand glued to the black rim. Half…elsewhere. (acowar)

Feyre becomes one with the Cauldron through a living bond. She is half there, half elsewhere like a mystic. This is a liminal space, like the time when services occur and the bridge where light and dark meet. It is a time of transformation. Elain's wooden rose is also placed in a liminal space next to the Mother on the mantel, giving us a big hint for her future:

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess–perhaps even the Mother herself. (acosf)

Now, let's look at how the Cauldron moves through the world to imagine how Elain might move if she communes with it:

Flying through the world. Searching. The Cauldron now hunted for that power that had come so close … And now taunted it. Nesta. The Cauldron searched for her, searched for her as the king now sought her. It skimmed across the battlefield like an insect over the surface of a pond. (acowar)

-

Come, Nesta’s power seemed to sing. Come. The Cauldron caught her scent and hurtled us onward. We arrived before the king did. The Cauldron seemed to skid to a halt at the clearing. Seemed to coil and reel back, a snake poised to strike.

The Cauldron moves like a force, starting as an otherworldly bird of prey and shifting form as it moves. If this reminds you of Elain and Urd, the goddess of fate, you're tracking with me.

Time seemed to slow and warp. The dark power of the king speared toward us. Toward that clearing where I was neither seen nor heard, where I was nothing but a scrap of soul carried on a black wind. (acowar)

A scrap of soul on a black wind, she says? That sounds familiar.

But Mor scented nothing, saw nothing. The tendril of power she speared toward the woods revealed only the usual birds and small beasts. A hart drinking from a hole in an iced-over stream. Nothing, except— There, between a snarl of thorns. A patch of darkness. It did not move, did not seem to do anything but linger. And watch. Familiar and yet foreign. Something in her power whispered not to touch it, not to go near it. Even from this distance. Mor obeyed. But she still watched that darkness in the thorns, as if a shadow had fallen asleep amongst them. Not like Azriel’s shadows, twining and whispering. Something different. Something that stared back, watching her in turn. (acofas)

A patch of darkness between a snarl of thorns. Interesting. Familiar and yet foreign, like Silba’s voice. In Oorid, Nesta hears a mysterious voice and a disturbance in the thorns while she is on a mission to retrieve the mask. This voice attempts to warn her of the danger she faces, just like Elain warned Feyre in Hybern.

Run, a small voice whispered. Run and run, and do not look back. The voice was female, gentle. Wise and serene. 

-

Run. Was that voice merely all that remained of her human instincts, or something more? She gazed at her reflection as if it would tell her. 

-

Something rustled in the thorns of the island, and she snapped up her head, heart thundering as she scanned for that familiar male face and wings. But there was no sign of Cassian. And whatever was in that bramble…she should find another island to head for. (acosf)

The thorns remind Nesta of roses when she first arrives, and that patch of darkness on Mor's estate looked as though it had fallen asleep among the thorns...but it was still watchful, like the Eye of the Goddess. A dark bloom resting among the thorns, a scrap of soul on a black wind. This reminds me of Elain’s hidden movement and her mental gates, where the Cauldron made its deepest mark.

The gates to her mind … Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers—or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar)

Who would know about Nesta's mission in Oorid, and who would act from the shadows to help and protect her? There's a clear answer that takes us back to the the Cauldron's hunt for its stolen power.

Not again. I could not watch this play out again. Standing by, idle, while those I loved suffered. The Cauldron crept along with Nesta, a hound at her side.

A hound at her side, hmm? Now, where have I heard that recently?

...Az would have told him already if he'd wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them. (acosf)

-

Elain was like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort. (acosf)

Feyre senses the Cauldron's surprise when Nesta covers Cassian with her body, just as Elain sensed its anger when power was taken from it. And when hope seems lost, Feyre begs for a divine intervention. And it comes not from the Cauldron, like she expected, but Elain.

Anything, I begged the Cauldron. Anything— 

The king’s hand began to drop. And then halted. A choking noise came out of him. For a moment, I thought the Cauldron had answered my pleas. But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.” 

After hunting her down in different forms, the Cauldron creeps along Nesta like a hound at the end. Elain then appears out of shadow in its stead and snarls like a hound, fast as the wind and loyal to the end. I’ve wondered before if Elain’s Sight functions like this living bond. The Suriel comments on seeing her doe eyes from across the world, so I imagine her form may be fluid like the divine trio when she uses her Sight. Her eyes even shift beneath her lids as she hunts like the Cauldron, the blue veins compared to water.

Her eyes shifted beneath her lids, the skin so delicate and colorless that the blue veins beneath were like small streams. “It moves …,” she whispered. “It moves through the world like … like the breath of the western wind.” (acowar)

And when Mor explains the difference between faeries and witches at Nesta's request, the focus moves to Elain as she casually observes the tent. The light dances in her mass of hair as it shifts. All before her appearance is glamoured to help and protect others.

Elain silently surveyed the tent, head tipping back. Her mass of heavy brown-gold hair shifted with the movement, the faelight dancing among the silken strands. […] Elain at last slid into the chair near Mor’s, her dawn-pink dress—finer than the ones she usually wore—crinkling beneath her. “Will—will many of these soldiers die?” (acowar)

This dawn ritual, if it is in fact something similar to what priestesses did in Sangravah, might be enough to keep her grounded in most cases. But I can also imagine a scenario where Elain travels in the embrace of that eternal, ancient beast too long or too deep, and loses sight of her body and her home like the forest witch in the Hind's tale. How else might she find her way back if that happens?

"But one day, a warrior arrived in the forest. He'd heard of the monster so vicious none could kill it and live. She set out to slaughter him, but when the warrior beheld her, he was not afraid. He stared at her, and she at him, and he wept because he didn't see a thing of nightmares, but a creature of beauty. He saw her, and he was not afraid of her, and he loved her. [...] His love transformed her back into a witch, melting away all that she'd become. They dwelled in peace in the forest for the rest of their immortal lives." (hosab)

The forest witch had a warrior who found her transformation, her monstrous form and power, beautiful. His love for who she became, not who she once was grounded her. So, who is Elain's warrior? I believe it’s going to be someone who won't flee from a patch of darkness, familiar and yet foreign. Someone who acknowledges the beauty in her mighty power, and hears what she cannot say, sees the heavy burden that she bears. Someone whose gentle voice she can follow in the void, singing her home across space and time. Someone who embraces Elain in all her forms, their hand an anchor in the vast tapestry of the universe.

Series: wise woman. seer. witch.

[rainingriversofyou]

Elide, Elain & Hypaxia - TOG, ACOTAR & CC

Artist: bookishkoda

[cassianandfenrysaremyboyos]

Not Ember asking if Nesta is a Prince of Hel sdgjkkgfjklkj lmao

[bae-gelz]

Manon & Dorian & Abraxos.

I’m baaaack to posting on tumblr, I guess I’ve regressed far enough that I’m back to tumblr?? Anyway. Here ya go, I’ve been drawing lots of Sarah J Maas characters because I’m listening to acotar on audiobook and reading a fan fiction thats Rhysand’s pov of ACOMAF.

[thebellekeys]

It’s autumn. It’s spooky time.

[lilac-witch]

Solitude - Hunt Athalar x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Y/n seeks solitude from the stress of life in Lunation following the exile of the Asteri. Meaning: "the act of being alone and away from society" Word Count: 1k. Warnings: Strong language.

-------------

Lunathion was a city jack-full of buildings, vehicles and an obscene amount of Vanir. It was home and yet it could sometimes feel like a prison. Or rather like you were a sardine in a can.

Avallon, however, was the complete opposite.

Ever since the death of Avallon's king and the end of the war with the Asteri, Avallon had become something of a sanctuary. A home away from home when the stress of caring for an entire city became too much.

It was in Avallon that Y/n presently found herself, following the harrowing argument she'd had with her mate.

------------

"You're never around anymore, Hunt! It's like we live on opposite sides of the fucking planet!" Y/n yelled, face contorted in anger towards her mate.

"My sincerest apologies, Your Higness," Hunt sneered. "In case you've forgotten, some of us are trying to keep an entire city from becoming one great ruin!"

She could feel her blood boiling. How dare he use her title like that, when he knew how she felt about it, how Hypaxia felt after being exiled from the witch clans.

"And what the fuck do you think I've been doing? Sitting on my ass looking pretty? I've spent hours down in the labs with Hypaxia, working on a better solution for curing the water, trying to find an alternative source of power! But at least when we make plans to hang out, I make the effort to actually fucking show up!"

She must have been red in the face at this point, her flailing arms further emphasising her point.

"Research is not the same as sitting through meetings with city leaders, or taking to the streets to keep the peace, Y/n! So fucking shoot me if you are not my top priority at the moment!" Hunt bellowed in response.

It was like time stopped and the air stilled.

Y/n's eyes which had previously been blazing with fury had now turned downwards, her mouth agape in shock.

Hunt's own expression faltered. He took a step forward, hand stretching out to reach for her.

"Don't touch me, Athalar."

The depth of her tone was a shock to Hunt's system, halting him in his path. Y/n seized the moment, swiftly creating a portal from their shared apartment to the green hills of Avallon, and took the leap.

-------------

It had been a week since their fight, and Y/n hadn't seen Hunt since. He hadn't come looking for her, and she hadn't gone home, both were too stubborn to come to terms with their faults.

"He's losing his shit, you know."

Y/n turned to the timber voice, its owner looming over her sitting form.

Y/n turned back to the view of the ocean below the cliff's edge. "Have you become his messenger pigeon, Baxian? Did Hunt not have the balls to come and find me himself?"

Her words were harsh, but they reflected the hurt she felt.

"Ouch blondie, you'll hurt my feelings," Baxian joked, cracking a smile that lifted her spirits ever so slightly.

She watched as the Hellhound lowered himself to sit beside her.

"He's really beating himself up. He knows he fucked up, and that what he said was way out of line, but you know Hunt... He never did have a way with words."

"No fucking kidding," she grumbled back, resting her chin on her bent knees.

"You're not going to come home, are you?"

Baxian had always been a good friend to her. So good a friend, that it sometimes seemed like he could read her mind.

"No, I'm not," she murmured. "Not yet at least."

"What should I tell him?"

"Whatever you want, Bax. I don't have the energy to care right now."

Y/n could feel his gaze on her but chose to ignore it. Instead, she closed her eyes and let the sun shine down on her skin. She let the week of elusive sleep finally take her.

-------------

When Y/n awoke, she was no longer on the cliffside. No, she now found herself beneath blankets, atop a comfortable bed. A very familiar bed.

She shot up, glancing around the room. She was back in Lunathion. Back in the apartment. Back in their room.

The door to the bedroom swung open quietly, Hunt's hulking form moving into the space. He looked as exhausted as she felt, as though he had also not been granted any sleep.

His eyebrows rose in shock as he observed her form, clearly still expecting her to be asleep.

"You're awake."

"And you kidnapped me," she said bluntly.

Hunt scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his that Y/n had observed from the first time they'd met.

"Is it considered kidnapping if I simply brought you home?"

"You brought me home against my will, without my consent."

She crossed her arms in defiance. She could do this all day.

Hunt sighed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I'm really fucking sorry."

Y/n watched as he hunched over, palms covering his face in silent grief.

"Bryce keeps giving me new tasks, and Isaiah expects me to train the new legions, and it just seems like it never ends. Like time has become a figment of my imagination. I never meant to take it out on you. Gods know you've been overworked yourself, but fuck, the stress just got to me."

She watched him for a while longer, as he watched her back, gauging her reaction. Eventually, Y/n sighed, opening her arms for him.

Hunt let out a whimper of sorts before finding comfort in her warmth.

"Pull this kind of shit with me again, Athalar, and I'll wipe the training grounds with your face," she warned, running her fingers through his dark locks.

Y/n felt him nod and heard the deep chuckle reverberate through his chest in response.

Solitude was good for a while, but it was nothing like being home.

-------------

[itashevaa]

Sarah Maas created many worlds and beautiful courageous women that are all unique and don’t look alike. Aelin, Manon, Feyre, Nesta, Nesryn, Kaltain, Elide, Elain, Mor, Danika, Lysandra, Bryce, Hasar, Fury, Hypaxia, Asterin and the 13, Amren, Juniper, Ansel, Borte, Emerie, Lidia, Jesiba, Gwyn. i relate to all of them in one or another way and for that alone i will be eternally grateful to her

[acourtofquestions]

I am a descendant of Ranthia Drahl, Queen of Embers. She is with me now and I am not afraid. My friends are behind me, and I will protect them. My friends are with me and I am not afraid. My friends are with me and I am not afraid.

My friends are with me and I am not afraid.

[manontrashbeak]

People who think this feels like a long wait between sjm books clearly weren’t here for the EoS(9/2016) -> getting the announcement that we were getting ToD, not Aelins continuation-> KoA release (10/2018)

We had to wait 2 yrs to know where Aelin was and what Maeve up to

[vintagegirl01]

Witches Brew

Hunt Athalar x female witch reader

Summary: Hunt has been at wits end trying to get Shahar to notice him. When his efforts don’t work, he seeks out a witch in hopes of finding a way to win her over. Never did he think that you would be the key to what he was missing in life.

A/N: This story is based off the lyrics from Witches Brew by David Casper. Always looked forward to hearing this song during and at the end of Halloweentown. Hope I did the song justice with this fic.

Hunt crept out of bed. For he had a goal in mind.

To win over the love of his life, Shahar.

Since joining her ranks, he’s been trying anything and everything he could think off to try getting to talk to her outside of the battlefield. Though, she pays little attention to him unless she needs something from him.

Therefore, he decided to seek the help of a witch to help him.

So here he was in the dark waiting for the witch. Hunt could only hope that she would take what he had in exchange for some help.

As his mind delves more into thought, Hunt feels a presence behind him. He turns around and looks down to see a figure in a cloak of black.

Though the sight beneath the cloak caught his breath. For it revealed a face that made a chill run down Hunt’s spine

Your beauty hypnotized him. Though, what stood out about you the most, was the gentle smile you wore. Not one that he often associated with powerful witches.

You then smile and take his hand, leading him into your lair.

The lair was not what he expected. Instead of it being creepy, it has more cozy vibes that gave off warmth. The warmth that was within you he assumed.

You then walk up to the cauldron and begins stirring up in the concoction.

You then look up at Hunt and says these words.

“All I need is eye of newt, wing of bat, a long black whisker from a big black cat, spider legs and wolf hound fur, poison ivy and a hemlock root.”

Hunt looks at the beautiful witch surprised. “Really? For a love potion?”

You shake your head at him. “I’m kidding. I’m not giving you a love spell. Though, here is some tea. ”

Hunt looks at you in confusion before taking the cup of tea. “Why? I’m willing to pay you whatever you charge.”

He takes a sip of the tea and is amazed by the taste. It was mint tea with a hint of sugar and lemon.

You smile at him. “I only wanna help you, dear. You want somebody and you wish she wanted you. Though this way isn’t the way. Love potions are temporary. They dont inflict real feelings like everyone believes.”

The male frowns. Seeing him this way makes you sad. Therefore, you get an idea.

“I've got the perfect cure. Just take my advice and she’ll fall in love with you for sure.”

____________________________________________

For the next few weeks, you and Hunt spend time together as you help him work on his romance skills to charm and win Shahar.

Within that time, you and Hunt have gotten to know each other to the point that you two have developed a close bond. In fact, you started to feel yourself falling for him.

Though, you refuse to say anything as he has feelings for another. Plus, you don’t want the relationship you have with him to become awkward. So you keep these feelings to yourself. Besides, you’re happy just being his friend and are willing to help him achieve happiness in anyway possible.

Even if that happiness doesn’t include you.

____________________________________________

Hunt is waiting for her in the park, a few minutes after dark.

He’s hoping that she got his message.

It isn’t before long until his thoughts are answered as he sees you smile and wave at him before walking up to him.

“Hunt, how did your meet up with Shahar go?”

Hunt smiles at you. “I didn’t meet with her.”

You smile instantly turns into a frown. “Hunt, I’m so sorry. I…”

The tall, gray winged angel puts a finger to your lips. “You are what I have I been missing, (y/n).”He then moves a piece of hair behind your ear. “Here I was pining for a woman that didn’t care for me when the woman of my dreams was in front of me all along.”

The two of you closed their eyes and shared the first of many kisses that you’d both share with each other.

[lafayettenossie]

The Fire Witch and the Nossie Detective, my wife and me!

[wingedblooms]

Herbs she planted

This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.

“The point is that this is all gardening. The garden runs through our lives like a river through a field, like air in our lungs. The garden does not end in space any more than it does in time. The flowers grow as much in our minds as in the soil. There are very few nights when I do not lie in the dark, everyone else sleeping inside this dark, creaking, bony house, and go through the garden, seeing it with the clarity of a dreamer, taking it to pieces and putting it together again, mending everything in my head.” (Montagu Don, My Roots: A Decade in the Garden) 

Like the threads of an intricate tapestry, Elain weaves a variety of plants together in her gardens. She creates living art, even at the worst of times:

I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” (acowar)

Feyre casually mentions that Elain is planting herbs in the town house garden after she drops some unsettling information on Cassian (which, as an aside, is one of my favorite scenes; I love it when Elain, the gentle gardener, unnerves 500-year-old fae). @offtorivendell posted a headcanon that Elain has a garden full of useful plants, which makes sense for a practical forest witch, and this quote suggests she is on the right track. We don’t hear about her herbs specifically again, but we do see glimpses of her work on the town house garden where she started planting them: 

…peering out the kitchen window at the garden beyond…Elain had already readied the garden for winter, veiling the more delicate bushes and beds with burlap. (acofas) 

-

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas) 

Herbs are used by witches and healers in the Maasverse for a variety of purposes, such as flavoring cuisine, enhancing divination, and healing the body. All things many of us naturally associate with Elain.

Cuisine

Manon gives us a glimpse of Crochan witches going about their domestic tasks, including cooking with dried herbs at their cauldrons:

At least two dozen other witches tended to the several fire pits scattered amongst the white tents, all of them halting their various work as Manon passed. She’d never seen Crochans going about their domestic tasks, but here they were: some tending to fires, some hauling buckets of water, some monitoring heavy cauldrons of what smelled like mountain-goat stew seasoned with dried herbs. (koa)

This image makes me think of other witches (and suspected witches) who have engaged in similar domestic tasks, such as Hypaxia offering tea to Ruhn in the medwitch clinic, or Elain carrying herbed potatoes that she helped the twins prepare near the winter solstice. In our world, traditional witchcraft is founded on a deep bond with the land; many of the holidays on the Wheel of the Year align with the agricultural year. It is no surprise then that witches in the Maasverse are also deeply connected to the bounty of the land. And even though it does not involve witches exclusively, the Great Rite in Prythian honors this bond and is performed to ensure balance between the the land and those who benefit from it. It’s very witchy.

This also helps put into perspective the gravity of Queen Rhiannon's curse on the land:

But the last Crochan queen had cast a spell to ensure that as long as Ironteeth banners flew, no bit of soil would yield life to them. (com) “Rhiannon swore on her last breath that we would win the war, but not the land. That for what we had done, we would inherit the land only to see it wilt and die in our hands. Our beasts would shrivel and keel over dead; our witchlings would be stillborn, poisoned by the streams and rivers. Fish would rot in lakes before we could catch them. Rabbits and deer would flee across the mountains. And the once-verdant Witch Kingdom would become a wasteland. […] Every few decades, they would send groups to try to work the land, to see if the curse still held. Those groups never returned. We have been wanderers for five hundred years—the wound made worse by the fact that humans eventually took it for themselves. And the land responded to them.” (eos)

Manon’s half-sister, who is named for the last Crochan queen, has earthy eyes that are described exactly like Thesan’s, which are rich and warm like Elain’s (who I have long associated with healing light and Dawn).

The Crochan witch, her eyes the solid color of freshly tilled earth, looked up at Manon. How those eyes were so bright despite the horrors written on her body, how she didn’t collapse right there or start begging, Manon didn’t know. (hof)

Every Crochan witch also has an hearth that travels with them, and they can use it to communicate when they are scattered across the world:

Glennis jerked her chin toward the tent flaps, to the fire pit beyond. “Every Crochan family has a hearth that moves with them to each camp or home we make; the fires never extinguish. The flame in my hearth dates back to the Crochan city itself, when Brannon Galathynius gave Rhiannon a spark of eternally burning fire. My mother carried it with her in a glass globe, hidden in her cloak, when she smuggled out your ancestor, and it has continued to burn at every royal Crochan hearth since then.” 

“What about when magic disappeared for ten years?” 

“Our seers had a vision that it would vanish, and the flame would die. So we ignited several ordinary fires from that magic flame, and kept them burning. When magic disappeared, the flame indeed winked out. And when magic returned this spring, the flame again kindled, right in the hearth where we had last seen it.” Her great-grandmother turned toward her. “When a Crochan Queen summons her people to war, a flame is taken from the royal hearth, and passed to each hearth, one camp and village to the other. The arrival of the flame is a summons that only a true Crochan Queen may make.” (koa)

The Crochans carry hearths—the heart of family and domestic life—with them as they travel, which reminded me of Elain’s rose:

It was a fire. Not her father’s neck. Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d place on the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. 

Another log cracked, and Nesta flinched. But she remained sitting there. Staring at that carved rose. (acosf)

Nesta found Elain’s dark rose on the mantel in their old cottage, and then felt the need to place it on a mantel in the House of Wind, just above the hearth and next to a figurine of a primal goddess, likely the Mother. It moves from mantel to mantel and hearth to hearth until she places it on her father’s gravestone in the final scene of her book. This rose may be yet another hint of Elain's connection to witches, divinity, and roses, as well as the gift of healing, which I’ll get to later. Roses are associated with love and death (among many other things), and have a rich history in folklore; they are a common ingredient used in herbal magic. I could see Elain possessing her own portable hearth to accompany dried herbs from her town house garden as she sets out on various adventures. That way, no matter how far she travels, she'll always have her home with her like a lovely Crochan witch.

Divination

Some herbs are used to amplify divination or dream magic. As @offtorivendell mentioned in her post on Elain’s Sight, seers in Erilea use bloodbane (which, as a drug, may contain herbs) to see spirits from other realms, and mystics use bloodsalt to focus their search across worlds. In Midgard, the Oracle's Temple is full of incense and the sphinx breathes in the fumes that are smoldering in her chamber.

...the domed onyx building of the Oracle's Temple veiled in the mists that had rolled in over the river.

Even at midday, the Oracle's Park was near-empty, save for the hunched, slumbering forms of the desperate Vanir and humans who wandered the paths and gardens, waiting for their turn to enter the incense-filled hallways. (hoeab)

-

She blinked, wings rustling as if in surprise, but settled herself. Breathed in the fumes rising from the hole. Minutes passed, and Hunt’s head began to throb with the various scents—especially the reeking sulfur. 

Smoke swirled, masking the sphinx from sight even though she sat only ten feet away. [...] A rasping voice slithered out of the smoke. “To open the doorway between worlds.” A chill seized Hunt. (hoeab)

@offtorivendell theorized that, like others gifted with Sight, Elain could use substances to amplify her powers if needed. It's possible she might be able to use herbs from her garden to pierce the veil and see clearly. She even smells like jasmine, a plant that—among many other things—induces prophetic dreams.

Healing

What can cure can also kill. (Rebecca Beyer, Wild Witchcraft)

In Midgard, we're told witches are seers, warriors, potion-makers, and healers. Healers, also known as medwitches, are the most visible and they have their own herb gardens. Their healing magic is even more powerful than the fae.

They were a strange, unique group, the witches. Though they looked like humans, their considerable magic and long lives marked them as Vanir, their power mostly passed through the female line. All of them deemed civitas. The power was inherited, from some ancient source that the witches claimed was a three-faced goddess, but witches did pop up in non-magical families every now and then. Their gifts were varied, from seers to warriors to potion-makers, but healers were the most visible in Crescent City. Their schooling was thorough and long enough that the young witch before him was unusual. She had to be skilled to be already working in a clinic when she couldn’t have been a day over thirty.

[…]

She gestured to the hall behind her, where sunlight leaked in through a glass door at its other end. “We have a courtyard garden. The day is fine enough that you could wait out there.”

[…]

Ruhn followed her down the hall, trying not to breathe in her eucalyptus-and-lavender scent too deeply. 

Don’t be a fucking creep. 

The sunlight tangled in her thick night-dark hair as she reached the courtyard door and shouldered it open, revealing a slate-covered patio surrounded by terraced herb gardens. The day was indeed lovely, the river breeze making the plants rustle and sway, spreading their soothing fragrances. (hoeab)

We now know this graceful healer is the Witch Queen, Hypaxia. Elain seems to share parallels with Hypaxia and her half-sister, the Hind (and her story about the forest witch). Hypaxia smells like plants that are used for healing and shows Ruhn out to their courtyard herb garden. Like the witches, Elain is gifted magic from an ancient source (the Cauldron, which is also part of a magical trio: Mother, Cauldron, Fate) and plants her own herbs in a courtyard garden. She smells of jasmine and honey, which have medicinal properties: one is used to improve sleep and the other is used to treat burns. 

The wise and peaceful medwitches in Midgard remind me of Crochan witches in Erilea, who were scattered to the winds and used healing to hide their heritage:

They were still out there, the self-righteous, insufferable Crochans, hiding as healers and wise-women. (hof)

We also witness extensive healing magic from humans blessed by Silba in Antica, and as I mentioned in forbidden secrets, they seem to share some pointed parallels with Elain as well.

It was broad, more of a keep than anything, but still rounded. Buildings flanked its sides, connected on lower levels. All enclosed by towering white walls, the iron gates—fashioned to look like an owl spreading its wings—thrown wide to reveal lavender bushes and flower beds lining the sand-colored gravel walkways. Not flower beds. Herb beds. (tod)

We learn that Maeve surrounded herself with healers because of the threat they pose to the Valg, and in the scene below, a Valg princess calls the healers Maeve's secret army:

“Why do you think Maeve has hoarded her healers, never allowing them to leave her patrolled borders? She knew we would return. She wanted to be ready—to protect herself. Her prized favorites, those Doranelle healers. Her secret army.” Duva hummed, motioning with the dagger to the necropolis. “How clever those Fae were, who escaped her clutches after the last war. They ran all the way here—the healers who knew their queen would keep them penned up like animals. And then they bred the magic into the land, into its people. Encouraged the right powers to rise up, to ensure this land would always be strong, defended. And then they vanished, taking their treasures and histories beneath the earth. Ensuring they were forgotten below, while their little garden was planted above.” (tod)

The fae healers bred magic into the land, into its people…then they vanished beneath the earth…forgotten…while their little garden was planted above. THEIR LITTLE GARDEN?! I've wondered elsewhere if Elain might heal the land, but what if, like Doranelle healers, Elain is weaving magic into the ground because of something she has Seen? What if she is endlessly toiling in her little gardens not just to restore life, but to cultivate the right magic to rise up and bloom, in defense of her family and the realm?

@offtorivendell has theorized that Elain might weaponize plants, like Ents, which would be so much fun to read. I would love to see her use (or sing to) living things around her, as @silverlinedeyes theorized, to uncover secrets and protect others (like a forest witch would). There are so many possibilities for how gardening will come into play in her story. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see her little gardens become secret weapons that are critical for the future. At the very least, we know that it has a symbolic purpose, as the quote I started this post with suggests: it is the lens through which we see Elain's evolution and role. Feyre starts the series believing this about her sister:

It wasn’t meanness that kept her from offering to help; it simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty. (acotar)

Then she sees her sister come alive in her garden, where she is able to exert control and create beautiful art with blooms. Her joy is infectious.

The little garden beneath the window was hers: every bloom and shrub had been picked and planted by her hand; she would allow no one else to care for it. Even the weeding and watering she did on her own. (acotar)

And we also see the moment when Feyre’s perspective shifts, and she begins to wonder if Elain prefers to get her hands dirty; if it's proof of her work.  

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy. (acofas)

We’re then reminded of this evolution in the Feysand bonus chapter:

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. (feysand bonus)

It’s interesting that Feysand discuss Elain’s hands in their bonus chapter: gardeners often get their hands dirty for a pretty result (living art). And then, in Azriel's bonus, he thinks about how Elain couldn't possibly know how his hands have been sullied far beyond their scars (by his deadly art). Sully is a synonym for soil, which means to make dirty. Soil is often used to describe the upper layer of the earth where plants grow, bringing us full circle.

Sarah could run with this hand imagery in a few different ways, but it reminds me of someone else in another world who also bloodies their hand on a rosebush…

Dorian held up his bloodied hand. “Thornbush.” Rosebush made his cuts seem that much more pathetic.

“The hand is—very complex,” she murmured at last, studying the cuts. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing was damaged and that there weren’t any thorns lodged in there.” She swiftly added, “Your Highness.” (com)

Why do I keep coming back to Dorian? Although he is heavily involved with the witches in tog, he is not a witch. So what is he doing here? It will lead back to healers and witches so stay with me. Dorian evolves over the series and becomes a force to be reckoned with; his raw magic allows him to learn other types of magic, including how to shift and wield magical hands.

His hands trembled—and not just with fear. No, there was some force still running through him, begging him to unleash it again, to open himself up … Dorian crammed the last book back onto the shelf and took off at a run. He could tell no one. Trust no one. (com)

-

Chaol stared at Dorian in mute horror as his friend’s eyes glowed a deep, raging blue, and the prince snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch him.” The ice spread across the room, up the legs of the shocked guards, freezing over Sorscha’s blood, and Dorian got to his feet. He raised both hands, and light shimmered along his fingers, a cold breeze whipping through his hair. (com)

Anyone else think Dorian’s snarl sounds a lot like Elain’s snarled don’t touch my sister? Yeah, me too. In Seed of power, I wondered if Elain possessed raw magic like Dorian, and before I’m accused of giving her excessive powers, I think this might be the case for all three witchy sisters. They are blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match Rhysand whose power is described as raw. When Rhysand uses Feyre as a conduit in acowar, her magic comes out as raw, brutal power to weld the Cauldron back together. It reminds me of this:

"Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power." (acosf)

Feyre welded the Cauldron and Nesta hammered swords, creating her own trove of nightmares. Elain will likely craft something with her magic as well, and it may be the other side of the coin to Nesta's nightmares: a trove of dreams. It could be witch mirrors hidden in ordinary jewelry, or even herbs with the power to heal and kill, if she can weaponize plants.

Now back to Dorian and the reason I mentioned him in the first place. He uses phantom hands, as @ladynightcourt3 has pointed out before:

Then those claws were pinned in the wood beneath phantom hands as Dorian sauntered over, face so unyieldingly unmoved. The Bloodhound thrashed, those claws trying to wrench free— The creature screamed as those invisible hands crunched down on bone. Then through it. […] It was not flame or wind that snapped the Bloodhound’s neck. But invisible hands. (eos) 

Interesting. This reminds me of another phantom hand, albeit a bit gentler:

And as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta’s back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore. A bargain. With the Cauldron itself. Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether. (acosf) 

This gentle, glowing hand intervenes on Nesta’s behalf, and it seems to be connected to the wise, soft voice.

A soft, familiar voice whispered the words. As they had been whispered to her long ago. As it had warned her in Oorid’s darkness. A lovely, kind female voice, sage and warm, which had been waiting for her all this time. (acosf)

This gentle hand and voice also seem like the Other Yrene bargains with in an important healing. The Other is most likely Silba, the goddess of healers and bringer of peace and gentle deaths, in Erilea. The one who is associated with owls and purple and healing magic. 

A woman’s voice that was both familiar and foreign. A voice that was both Hafiza’s and … another. Someone who was not human, never had been. Speaking through Hafiza herself, their voices blending into the blackness.

[…]

A daughter of Fenharrow will pay the debt of a son of Adarlan? 

Yes. 

She could have sworn a gentle, warm hand brushed her face.

[…]

The Other said, You offer this of your own free will? 

Yes. With my entire heart. 

It had been his from the start, anyway. Those loving, phantom hands brushed her cheek again and faded away.

[…]

The Other said, I chose well. You shall pay the debt, Yrene Towers. And I hope you shall see it for what it truly is. 

Yrene tried to speak. But light flared, soft and soothing. (tod)

The Other is not named, but it says it chose well and we know that Yrene was blessed with powers by Silba, so it seems likely that this is Silba’s voice. Interestingly, one of the healers also mentions Death:

Before Yrene could answer, Chaol demanded, “What cost?” 

A stillness crept over them, and even Yrene looked to Hafiza as the woman extracted herself from Eretia’s care. The Healer on High said quietly, “The damage was too great. Even with all of us…Death held you by the hand.” (tod)

This scene shares so many parallels with the Feysand rescue; it is a powerful healing with a high cost. We learn through Yrene that healers can sense when death is near, which is one of their less savory abilities. Death lurks near Feyre before Nesta uses the Trove, and that is when an otherworldly being looks out from her eyes. The Feysand healing would have taken place after the gods were banished from Erilea, and we did not actually witness their deaths. Is it possible the Mother is connected to Silba?

There is also a place beneath the Torre called Silba’s Womb where healers soak in natural spring waters in the form of dozens of tubs. The darkness Yrene senses in this underground cavern is connected to creation, rest and unformed thought, reminding me of Elain’s iron mental gates that are covered with sleeping buds, leaves, and thorns. This sleeping garden could be a hint for a dormant power like Dorian’s; when his sleeping power is awoken, it is described as something ancient and slumbering deep inside of him, and it opens an eye.

And the darkness above her … it was different from what she had spied in Lord Westfall’s body. The opposite of that blackness. The darkness above her was that of creation, of rest, of unformed thought. Yrene stared into it, into the womb of Silba herself. And could have sworn she felt something staring back. Listening, while she thought through all Lord Westfall had told her. (tod) 

Silba’s dark womb of creation is also eerily similar to the dark womb that Nesta senses in the depths of the library:

There was night, and there was the darkness of extinguishing a candle, and then there was this. Not only the true absence of light, but … a womb. The womb from which all life had come and would return, neither good nor evil, only dark, dark, dark. […] Her name drifted to her as if rising from the depths of some black ocean. […] The darkness pulsed, beckoning. (acosf)

The healing magic we see in tog reminds me quite a bit of the Cauldron, which is that dark womb Nesta mentioned. Healing light not only weaves things together, but devours darkness:

More of the world faded away. I am not afraid of you, Yrene said into the dark. And you have nowhere to run. Duva thrashed, trying to unseat Yrene's grip. Yrene pressed down harder on her chest. Time slowed and bent. She was dimly aware of the ache in her knees, the cramp in her back. Dimly aware of Sartaq and Kashin refusing to offer their position to someone else. Still Irene sent her magic flowing into Diva. Filling her with that devouring light. [...] "Utterly pathetic," Yrene repeated, her magic rallying behind her in a mighty, cresting white wave. "For a prince to prey on a helpless woman." The demon scrambled back against the wave, clawing at the dark as if it would tunnel through Duva. Yrene pushed forward. Let her wave fall.

Yrene's tidal wave of light devours the dark of the Valg like the thread of Hope piercing the Void. The language is similar to the wave imagery of the Cauldron and Elain’s white void when she is overcome by despair and strange new powers. If her void is not the typical dark nothingness but white, could her healing power be opalescent light that devours the darkness? As bright as the sunstone palace of Dawn that holds the light of a thousand suns, piercing the shadows of night each morning?

If Silba and the Mother are connected (one and the same, or part of the same consciousness of formless, higher beings), could Elain—a seer with theoretical raw magic that can heal and destroy and everything in between—act as their watchful guardian, an otherworldly bird of prey?

Even though it perched atop a gnarled branch of iron that flowed across the door itself, wings flared wide as it prepared to leap into the skies, it seemed … alert. Aware of all who passed that door, who perhaps gazed too long in the direction of the workshop. (tod)

Perhaps time and space also work differently for her, as they do for the Ancients.

Next: The Ancients, or Elain’s connection to ancient witches.

Series: seer. wise woman. witch.

[rainingriversofyou]

“The Quite But Fierce” 💕 Artist: bookishkoda

[khaleesikels]

I wanted to send my crazy Throne of Glass/ACOTAR/Crescent City into the universe. Enjoy!

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My Theories- Throne of Glass/ACOTAR/Crescent City:

Kingdom of Ash- Worlds Overlapping

• Mala only held out a hand. In it lay a kernel of white-hot power. A fallen star. “Take it One last gift to my bloodline.” …Chapter 98, Page 794

o This is giving Starborn? Or, at least, a hellacious coincidence to Theia’s line?

• She was falling. Falling and being thrown. The Wyrdgate sealed behind her, and yet she was not home. As it closed, all worlds overlapped… Chapter 99, Page 799

o This almost makes it sound like the worlds did not previously overlap…?

Queen of Shadows- Thoughts on the Bone Carver/ Old Gods

• “Seems like this god of truth,” Aedion called from his wall, “was more of a Sin-Eater than anything. You should read some of the things people wrote- all the horrible things they did. I think this was a place for them to be buried, and to confess on the bones of other sinners.” …Chapter 50, Page 411

o “These aren’t ordinary catacombs,” Rowan said, setting down his torch. “This was a temple.” Indeed, alters, benches, and even a dark reflection pool lay in the massive space… Chapter 50, Page 410

o “There’s writing on these bones,” Aedion said, striding down the steps and onto the bone floor. Aelin grimaced… Chapter 50, Page 411

o “It’s in every language- all in different handwriting,” Aedion marveled… Chapter 50, Page 411

A Court of Mist and Fury

• The boy’s smile (The Bone Carver) was a mockery of innocence. “Are you frightened?” “Yes,” I said. Never lie (truth telling God, anyone?)- That had been Rhy’s first command… Chapter 18, Page 196.

A Court of Wings and Ruin

• (At the Prison-Prythian) “There was life here,” Cassian said, “before the High Lords took Prythian. Old gods, we call them. They ruled the forests and the rivers and the mountains (Throne of Glass world has elemental magic, fire/ice/wind)- some were those things. Then magic shifted to the High Fae, who brought the Cauldron and Mother along with them, and though the old gods were still worshipped by a select few, most people forgot them.”

o Feyre: “The Bone Carver was an old god?”

o Cassian: “That’s what legend says.” … Chapter 22, Page 233

• “Clever, that Fae warrior. Her bloodline is long gone now- though a trace still runs through some human line.” He smiled, “No one remembers her name. But I do. She would have been my salvation, had I not made my choice long before she walked this earth.”

o (Continued, Bone Carver) “She could not kill them in the end- they were too strong. They could only be contained.” …Chapter 23, Page 239.

▪ At first, I thought of Bryce... Until I realized the Bone Carver and his siblings are not Asteri. They were old Gods. Who do we know that locked away “gods” in their story? Not kill… Locked away. Aelin.

▪ Also, Dorian and Aelin are related. Dorian has magic and is also a human. Also- Aelin has both Fae and Human forms... Magic being passed down through a human lineage.

▪ Both Dorian and Aelin are descendants of Mala and Brannon. I have a theory that Lidia is related to Aelin and Dorian through Brannon and Mala somehow.

• Aelin approached the archway of the god’s realm. To where Mala now walked across the shimmering grass, little more than a shaft of sunlight herself. The Lady of Light halted- and lifted an arm in farewell. Aelin smiled and bowed…. The gods began shouting, running towards her, as Aelin ripped open a hole in their sky. Right into a world she had only seen once. Had accidentally opened a portal into one night in a stone castle. Distant, baying howls cracked the bleak gray expanse. A portal into a hell-realm. A door now thrown open… Chapter 98, Page 796, Kingdom of Ash.

o This also becomes important later in my dissertation about who the “Mother” is and where the Cauldron came from.

Final Thoughts on Mala Fire-Bringer:

• Mala Fire-Bringer is also known as:

o Goddess of the Sun

o Lady of Light (STARBORN!?)

o Lady of Fire

o The Bright Lady (STARBORN!?)

o Formerly a god that gave up their immortality to be mortal/human to Forge the lock.

Archesian Amulet/ Witches

• Archesian Amulet described as 3 circles overlapping one another.

• Eye of Elena description (Throne of Glass): The Eye of Elena was a warped metal amulet composed of two overlapping circles inside a greater circle. The heart of the amulet was in the shape of an eye- with a blue gemstone in the middle.

o Rhiannon Crochran created the basis of the Lock: the symbol of the Three-Faced Goddess in an amulet. Rhiannon crafted a witch mirror in the middle eye, absorbing immense power. The amulet had been called the Eye of the Goddess.

This leads me into the Three-Faced Goddess which has been mentioned in all three series (ToG, ACOTAR, CC).

• Throne of Glass we know that the witch clans- all 3- are represented by the Three-Faced Goddess. The Three-Faced Goddess is symbolized as the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. We see this in Throne of Glass symbolically represented by the 3 witch clans:

o Blueblood Clan- The Maiden

o The Blackbeak Clan- The Mother

o The Yellowlegs Clan- The Crone

• In ACOTAR, we get this snippet from Amren when she is assisting Nesta with Scrying (stones and bones as she calls it): She didn’t seem to notice as she untied the small pouch and dumped out its contents. Three stones, four bones. The latter were brown and gleamed with age; the former were white as the moon and smooth as glass, each marked with a thin, reedy letter I did not recognize. “Three stones for the faces of the Mother,” Amren said upon seeing Nesta’s raised brows. “Four bones… For whatever reason the charlatans came up with that I can’t be bothered to remember.”

o The Mother has 3 faces... Where have we heard this? The Three-Faced Goddess. The Maiden, The Mother, and The Crone.

o This also leads me into a statement made by Tamlin in the first ACOTAR book. He asks Feyre, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you anything about us?” Which I always thought was weird. Why would Feyre’s mom know anything about the Fae? Who has a long enough life span to rival the Fae in the Throne of Glass series? Witches.

▪ I think Feyre, Elain, and Nesta’s mom was a witch, and by association, them as well.

• Lord Devlon in the ACOTAR series even calls Nesta a witch.

o The Three-Faced Goddess is represented by the Archeron sister’s as well:

▪ Elain- The Maiden (Also- Elain is a Seer- we know this is a gift known to Witches as well. It is mentioned in Crescent City that Witches have gifts that range from Seers to potion-making)

▪ Feyre- The Mother (Literally popped out Nyx)

▪ Nesta- The Crone (Death/ Her ability to have the Silver Flames/ Death Incarnate)

o I know Crescent City has witches, and Jesiba Roga was one, but I am not far enough along in Flame and Shadow to continue my thoughts until I finish the book.

Lastly, the Mother and the Cauldron: My crackpot theory is that the Mother is the Three-Faced Goddess and she created Prythian when Aelin banished them into their new hellscape.

In ACOTAR, Feyre sees a mural in Tamlin’s manor and describes it as: A might black cauldron held by glowing, slender female hands in a starry, endless night. Those hands tipped it over, golden sparkling liquid pouring out over the lip. No- not sparkling, but… Effervescent with small symbols, perhaps of some ancient faerie language. (Wyrdmarks, anyone? Who would know about Wyrdmarks? Someone from the Throne of Glass world).

This would also make sense why Feyre and her sisters seem “blessed” by some. They are powerful… Witches

[therealmissmagoo2]

Hypaxia Enador - Witch Queen - Crescent City series by Sarah J. Maas

Tray Files

[acourtofantumbra]

Was doing a deep dive for a future post about *gestures wildly* witches... Manon's lineage... cross-world connections... something I've found that feels actually tangible, maybe. Anyway, despite only dipping a toe into the ToD reread so far (I am not a ToD hater lol I'm just busy) I found myself checking a moment from KoA and took a nosedive into something immediately shinier. But it was so sudden I didn't have time to do my usual highlights/scribbles on my (currently dead) ipad so... enjoy my measly Kindle highlights.

I KNOW many folks have beautifully analyzed SJM's repeated character names because at one point SJM herself basically said, "I keep a record of all of them and I know what I've used."

I've seen folks flag important repeats for years now (we've seen this film before, A+ work, it keeps me up at night!), but the heavy hitters have been Briar, Thanatos, Cormac and even Ruhn (you know... the Erilean mountains and the hottie who knows 3 things).

So it stands to reason that repeated names might deserve some extra scrutiny... And I pray we get some pay off with that in CC3.

Anyway, as I'm pulling at the thread of ToG witches via our (my) favorite queen - Manon - I hadn't realized I fully forgot her dad's name. Frankly, of all the plot points from ToG, Manon's story's specifics were the haziest... except where Dorian is concerned I'm a mere mortal... and that has me suspicious regardless. Anywayyyy, as you can see above, it's Tristan. Tristan Crochan.

I cannot fully explain the cartwheel flip my brain did thumbing through the roladex of SJM's characters... because Tristan Flynn was not the energy my brain was ready for after reading this really sad passage about Manon's murdered family.

On my first read of the SJMU I went ACOTAR (long break between the original and ACOSF) -> CC -> TOG. And on my first TOG read, this passage triggered no alarm bells. I probably just didn't remember Flynn all that much. But after my CC reread... oh. I remember him. Don't you worry.

Now I am fan of Flynn. He's got a rakishness I simp for, I root for him and the dragon, and clocked his lordship woes despite having what we've all decided is a "hot dad". He's a good time. And Flynn feels like someone to watch! He makes an appearance in not one, but two, CC bonus chapters... and he's got a crush on the aforementioned dragon, who either was introduced for no reason or is gonna be a key player going forward. Or SJM is fucking with us. I don't have the answers.

But what I'm struck by Tristan-wise is a) the similarity in the little physical descriptors we get - brown hair, brown eyes and b) not actually Flynn-related... but a deeply similar sounding story to none other than the Autumn King. Daughter you didn't know was born to a woman you claim was your real love... check. Searching far and wide with a singular focus on recovering your daughter... check. Having another kid out of obligation and duty to continue on important bloodlines... check!!!

It might not have anything to do with Flynn at this current moment... but it's not implausible. Lord Flynn is of course a beloved frat-pack member living in a dump with his fellow bros. He specifically pops up in these bonus chapters going through the motions necessitated by his aristocratic bloodline. His mom/family is eager to marry him and his sister off - of course he seems miserable about the whole idea. But also resigned to it? It seems complicated. TLDR there's a world where Flynn's like "woof, yeah I gotta get married off but the heart wants what it wants!" There is precedent!

Also, I've been 👀 Flynn since it was flagged that he has "super rare earth powers" not commonly seen in Valbaran Fae... first off, what does that mean? Second, hot?!

Well I've done it again, so many words and nothing really of note to take away haha. I'll be honest, my mind was not in a Tristan Flynn headspace!! I'm kind of bogged down in my own thoughts about the witchier women of this multiverse... but in my dragon theory speculation Flynn popped up again and I really can't explain why random dead ends are turning up Tristan!!! I'm not mad about it, but I wish I understood.