#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.

[rheamxe]

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

[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.

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

[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]

Seed of power

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

In the tog series, we learn the art of shifting from Cyrene, a spider who weaves silk as colorful as the thread of Hope and devours dreams and life and joy. Manon calls Cyrene sister, as both share demon (Valg) blood, and the spider confirms that they are two faces of the same dark coin; sisters in spirit, if not in flesh (hof). Manon steals the silk for her wyvern and Cryene later tracks her down through scent alone in the form of a Crochan witch, which is how she finds herself at the mercy of Dorian’s curiosity. 

She’d returned to her human form, her dark hair tangled, bundled in a Crochan cloak. As if one of them had taken pity on her. Not realizing the hunger in Cyrene’s eyes wasn’t for the goat stew.

Dorian kept his stance relaxed, even as he asked again, “Where does the shifting come from inside you?”

Cyrene angled her head as if listening to something. “It was strange, mortal king, to find that I had a new place within me with the return of magic. To find that something new had taken root.” Her small hand drifted to her middle, just above her navel. “A little seed of power. I will the shift, think of what I wish to be, and the change starts within here first. Always, the heat comes from here.” The spider settled her stare on him. “If you wish to be something, king-with-no-crown, then be it. That is the secret to the shifting. Be what you wish.” (koa)

-

Dorian put a hand on his stomach, despite the layers of clothes and cloak. Only toned muscle greeted him. “Is that what you do to summon the change: first think of what you want to become?”

“With limits. I need a clear image within my mind, or else it will not work at all.”

“So you cannot change into something you have not seen.”

“I can invent certain traits—eye color, build, hair—but not the creature itself.” A hideous smile bloomed on her mouth. “Use that lovely magic of yours. Change your pretty eyes,” the spider dared. “Change their color.” (koa)

-

Cyrene chuckled. “Do not think of the eye color so much as demand it.”

“How did you learn this without instruction?”

“The power is in me now,” the spider said simply. “I listened to it.” (koa)

This conversation between Cyrene and Dorian reminded me of the line of inquiry Elain pursues with Amren in acofas.

Mor opened her mouth, laughter dancing on her face, but Elain asked, “Could you have done it? Decided to take a male form?”

The question cut through the laughter, an arrow fired between us. 

Amren studied my sister, Elain’s cheeks red from our unfiltered talk at the table. “Yes,” she said simply. “Before, in my other form, I was neither. I simply was.” 

“Then why did you pick this body?” Elain asked, the faelight of the chandelier catching in the ripples of her golden-brown braid. 

“I was more drawn to the female form,” Amren answered simply. “I thought it was more symmetrical. It pleased me.” 

[...]

And Elain asked, “And once you were in this body, you couldn’t change?” 

Amren’s eyes narrowed slightly. I straightened, glancing between them. Unusual, yes, for Elain to be so vocal, but she’d been improving. Most days she was lucid—perhaps quiet and melancholy, but aware. 

Elain, to my surprise, held Amren’s gaze. 

Amren said after a moment, “Are you asking out of curiosity for my past, or your own future?”

The question left me too stunned to even reprimand Amren. The others, too. 

Elain’s brow furrowed before I could leap in. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no going back to being human, girl,” Amren said, perhaps a tad gently. (acofas)

There’s no going back to being human unless Elain possesses the power to walk in another’s skin, to shape-shift, like Cyrene. Two key parts of Cyrene’s explanation stood out to me–she relies on her sight as inspiration for shifting and she learned the power that she received in a trade by listening to it. Curiously, those two senses are key parts of Elain’s powers: 

Elain cocked her head, as if listening to some inner voice. “Yes.”

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before. (acowar)

-

Elain had been told—by Amren. She now sat at the table, more straight-backed and clear-eyed than I’d seen her. 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)

Could Elain have learned how to wield her powers from the Cauldron’s whisperings? She is as curious as Dorian and often asks questions, learning without formal training. Could she even possess raw magic, the ability to shape her own magic and destiny? The Cauldron did give her such powers:

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain … Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something… It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

And rather than referring to these powers as “Sight,” Amren is also strangely vague about the nature and extent of Elain’s powers. 

“And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.” (acosf)

If Nesta and Amren shared otherworldly eyes, might Elain and Amren share otherworldly forms as their parallel dinner conversation suggests? Rhys conveniently draws the connection between them for us again: 

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

We see Amren’s bloodthirsty form unleashed on the battlefield, drinking in the deaths of those who run from her.

She exploded from that mortal shell, light blinding us. Light and fire. 

She was roaring—in victory and rage and pain. And I could have sworn I saw great, burning wings, each feather a simmering ember, spread wide. Could have sworn a crown of incandescent light floated just above her flaming hair.

She spread those wings, flame and light rippling to encompass her, no more than a burning behemoth that swept down upon Hybern’s armies. They began running. 

Amren came down on them like a hammer, raining fire and brimstone.

She swept through them, burning them, drinking in their death. Some died at the mere whisper of her passing. (acowar)

Amren behaves like an otherworldly bird of prey, and since running activates a predator’s hunting instincts, Rhys tells allies not to run. Like Amren, Elain may also transform into a flying predator (owl, witch, Illyrian, sphinx…if she’s a full-powered shape-shifter, the sky is the limit…or is it? More on that in Groundings.)

@truthflower19 suggested that Elain’s powers could also be connected to Ragana, a witch in Baltic mythology with the power of Sight and shape-shifting abilities. It seems like Ragana was conflated with Laima, or Laumé, at some point, and referred to as laumé-ragana. Laumé were woodland fairies (or maybe even a benevolent deity) who were associated with pregnant women, birth, and fate; they could take different forms or change others into different forms. Laumé were also associated with domesticity and had a talent for weaving, which brings us back to shapeshifting. 

His magic could leap between one element and another, yet the ability to shift lay within something else entirely. Lay within a part of him that had always yearned for one thing above all others: to let go. To be free. As Temis, Goddess of Wild Things, was free—uncaged. As he had once wished to be, when he had been little more than a reckless, idealistic prince. 

It was the magic’s sole command: let go. Let go of who and what he’d become since that collar and emerge into something new, something different.

[...]

“What are you trying to turn into, exactly? Or who?” 

The opposite of what he was. The opposite of the man who’d overlooked Sorscha’s presence for years. And offered her only death in the end. He’d be glad to let go of it, if only the magic would allow him. 

“Nothing,” he said. Many of the Thirteen and Crochans went back to their meager meals at his dull response. “I just want to see if it’s possible, for someone with my manner of magic. To even change small features.” Not a lie, not entirely. 

Manon frowned, as if trying to work out some puzzle she couldn’t quite grasp.

 “But were you to succeed,” Glennis pressed, “who would you wish to be?” 

He didn’t know. Couldn’t conjure an image beyond empty darkness. Damaris, at his side, would have no answer, either. 

Dorian peered inward, feeling the sea of magic that roiled inside him. He traced its shape with careful, invisible hands. Followed a thread within himself not to his gut, but to his still-cracked heart. Who do you wish to be? There, like the seed of power that Cyrene had stolen, it lay—the little snarl in his magic. Not a snarl, but a knot—a knot in a tapestry. One that he might weave. 

One he might fashion into something if he dared. 

Who do you wish to be? he asked the barely woven tapestry within himself. Let the threads and knots take form, crafting the picture within his mind. Starting small. 

Glennis chuckled. “Your eyes are green now, king.” Dorian started, heart thundering. The others again halted their lunches, gaping, some leaning in to peer at him more closely. But he fed his magic into the loom within himself, adding to the emerging picture. 

“Och, golden hair does not suit you at all.” Asterin grimaced. “You look sickly.” 

Who did he wish to be? Anyone but himself. But what he’d become. (koa)

Dorian wishes to become something different. In order to change his outward appearance, he peers inward and weaves a picture in his mind. Rhysand uses similar language to consider the possibility of Elain’s transformation: 

He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.” He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge.” (Feysand bonus) 

It’s interesting that her physical appearance is emphasized and remarked upon repeatedly, including the scene in which she is Made.

More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. 

Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare.

The queens pushed forward. Alive, she had to be alive, had to have wanted to live— 

Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer. And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me— Nesta began roaring again. 

Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

Elain’s primary asset, as a proper lady, is her beauty, and it has functioned as a cage of sorts, which is why it’s interesting her mother says this: 

Elain is pleasant to look at, her mother had once mused while Nesta sat beside her dressing table, a servant silently brushing her mother’s gold-brown hair, but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us one day, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match. (acofas)

This statement is ominous, but it follows the ponderings of Rhys and Feyre in their bonus chapter. We will see a different side (or form?) emerge and it won’t be as innocent or sweet as expected. 

Dorian references the Goddess of Wild Things in his thoughts about shape-shifting. As @psychologynerd and I discussed, Temis is an interesting word choice on Sarah’s part. Themis is the Greek goddess of law and order, and she is associated with oracles and prophecies. Perhaps it isn’t a coincidence that many of those with Sight navigate different forms. They are connected to the gods, whose own forms are fluid. Elain’s Sight could certainly help her shape-shift, providing many images from which she can weave a new form. 

The use of weaving in Dorian’s informal lesson reminds me of Elain’s presence in the weaver scene with Feyre in acofas. She is openly curious about the weaver’s ability to create Void (darkness) and Hope (iridescent light). @silverlinedeyes wondered a long time ago if Elain could use this woven Void to shadow walk in her story, and I have a few related ideas on how it might be wielded. The first relates to shifting form, and the second involves moving like a force as Urd does (more on the latter in the Song of the wind and Groundings). If Elain can weave a new form, like the goddess of fate, how might this power manifest? Is she a full-powered shape-shifter? 

For a breath she wished for a shape-shifter’s heart so she could shed her skin and weave herself into something else, the music or the wind, and blow across the world. (hof)

Full-powered shape-shifters can replicate someone’s form, making it an incredibly powerful ability. Shape-shifters are spies and thieves and assassins. 

A sly cat’s glance in Aelin’s direction. Rowan, seated on Aedion’s right, cocked his head to the side. “Do you need an introduction?” Lysandra’s smile grew. “I like your fangs,” she said sweetly. Aelin choked on her grape. Of course Lysandra did. Rowan gave a little grin that usually sent Aelin running. “Are you studying them so you can replicate them when you take my form, shape-shifter?” Aelin’s fork froze in midair. “Bullshit,” Aedion said. All amusement had vanished from the courtesan’s face. Shape-shifter.

Holy gods. What was fire magic, or wind and ice, compared to shape-shifting? Shifters: spies and thieves and assassins able to demand any price for their services; the bane of courts across the world, so feared that they’d been hunted nearly to extinction even before Adarlan had banned magic. (qos)

Lysandra, a full-powered shape-shifter, used her gift to survive and found that things came easier to her when she wore more beautiful faces. 

“I used my abilities. Sometimes I was human; sometimes I wore the skins of other street children with high standing in their packs; sometimes I became an alley cat or a rat or a gull. And then I learned that if I made myself prettier—if I made myself beautiful—when I begged for money, it came far faster. I was wearing one of those beautiful faces the day magic fell. And I’ve been stuck in it ever since.” (qos) 

Lysandra’s loss of her true form is an echo of the Hind’s tale of a witch who loses sight of her true self and her true form. Shifting relies on an image in the mind, a memory. And if it is lost–or taken–so is one’s true form.

That was the danger of shifting—that you would forget your real form, because it’s the memory of it that guides the shifting.” (qos)

We have already seen Elain alter her appearance strategically at least once (and likely more than once, as many have theorized) to help others. As someone who is deeply connected to the land, and consistently compared to animals, it would make sense for her to weave a fanged beast form. And this beast form might still love the sun and plants, just like everyone’s favorite flower-smelling wyvern.

Next: Herbs she planted, or how herbs link Elain to 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

[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.

[therealmissmagoo2]

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

Tray Files