#lightsinger pr department

[offtorivendell]

Firstly, wow, this is absolutely spectacular, though I know we should expect nothing less from your brilliant mind (no pressure lol). Secondly, let the record state that I have been not-so-subtly excited about this post for literal months, and thirdly, I love monster tropes, too, and I know you know that I'm very much behind Elain having an inner 'fanged beast' of this sort.

The effort you have put into this post, drawing from real world tales and mythology (like rusalki), then extrapolating it into the ACOTAR universe and linking it to existing fandom ideas, is so impressive. This isn't a theory so much as it is a dissertation on what we know about lightsingers.

I love the way Elain's imagery - hypothetically, of course - doesn't just serve to pretty up the language used around her, but also to hint at what abilities may be lurking within, and how they may play out going forward. It seems very appropriate for the reserved Seer who has unknown abilities and an inner strength of which we've only scratched the surface. Also, I have been obsessed with carranam for ages, so that would be chef's kiss.

Side note: the way that the 'life giving water' of the rusalki sounds suspiciously like ACOTAR's Calanmai makes me wonder if that Dusk crack theory of mine could be true. 😂

I have also had thoughts about how Elain could hypothetically use the (her?) light; we read in ACOWAR that the Darkbringers of the Hewn City could weaponise darkness to blind their opponents, and it stands to reason that Azriel, or Nuala and Cerridwen could do the same with their own shadows, but what if, in addition to walking through the light (literally hiding in broad daylight), Elain - or any lightsinger - could also fight with light, in an opposite yet equal way to those with shadows?

Cassian—I couldn’t even spot him beyond the blazing flare of his Siphons near the front lines, crimson glowing amid the vicious shadows of Keir’s Darkbringers as they wielded them to their advantage: blinding swaths of Hybern soldiers in sudden darkness … then blinding them doubly when they ripped those shadows away and left nothing but glaring sunlight. Left nothing but their awaiting blades. - ACOWAR, chapter 70

There is so. Much. Potential! I know a lot of us were frustrated that we didn't get much insight into Nesta’s silver flames, so I really hope that Elain's story is where we can get some good grounding in (at least some of) the magical lore of Prythian.

Thank you for the obvious effort that went into this post! You continuously out-do yourself. 💜

What if Elain is the Lightsinger?

By now, you should all know I love monster tropes, so I was fascinated by this question when I came across it. Sarah did give us a character who glows when she sings (which seems like the obvious choice), but as others have noted that is not a confirmed trait in the text. She could be trying to throw us off the trail of the real lightsinger: Elain Archeron. I love thinking about Elain’s mysterious other side and what it might mean for her arc. Morally ambiguous characters are most realistic to me and tend to be my favorite. My theories for her have covered spies, witches, shifters, and suriels, so it was only a matter of time until I finally released this from drafts and theorized about her as a lightsinger. In this post, I’ll review how lightsingers are described in the text, potential inspiration from mythology, and what evidence might link Elain to them. Thank you, as always, to those who talked with me and/or inspired to publish this idea (whether they intended it or not, ha), especially @offtorivendell, @silverlinedeyes, @suelky, and @emnlln.

What are lightsingers?

Cassian describes lightsingers immediately after he talks about kelpies and witches—beings who are ostracized by society and forced to live in the bog, where wild magic still roams. We already met a kelpie, but have yet to officially meet the other two creatures.

Cassian went on as she scanned the bog, “There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

Cassian highlights some key traits:

they are considered lovely, ethereal creatures

this appearance is deceptive, as their true face is terrifying

they use this friendly appearance to lure others for sport

As @suelky and I discussed in conversations months ago, lightsingers seem eerily similar to the rusalki in Slavic mythology. The myths surrounding rusalki vary, but there are a few recurring elements:

they live in bodies of water and are believed to be the spirits of females who died, typically by drowning

they have dual aspects: admired for their beauty and feared for their ability to turn into a creature of death (often dragging humans to a watery grave)

they are associated with fertility, and use their two legs to surface from their watery home and replenish the land every spring with life-giving water

they were once respected as life-giving water spirits, but later vilified by the new dominant religion

If Sarah used these spring spirits as inspiration for lightsingers, then perhaps @silverlinedeyes’s brilliant theory about Elain as a lifesinger is in fact part of the lightsinger theory after all. They are one and the same. It would make sense for them to be more complex than we’ve been led to believe. That’s how she typically writes monsters in the ACOTAR series. All you have to do is think of the Suriel, Bone Carver, and Bryaxis; our bravest schemers and warriors feared and vilified these beings, and yet Feyre befriended them. They helped her and were critical in winning the final battle. It’s not always (or ever, really) a simple matter of good and evil. How intriguing, then, that Elain possesses a surprising number of the key elements for the creatures in both canon and myth.

What evidence might point to Elain being a lightsinger?

Lovely, ethereal creature:

Elain is consistently described as lovely. There are more instances of it than I have included, but below are a few major examples.

When we first meet Elain, light and snake (a fanged beast) imagery accompany Feyre’s observation of her elder sister’s desire to appear lovely despite their poverty. We learned from Nesta that this desire may stem from Mama Archeron’s influence before she died, as she treated Elain like a beautiful doll.

I yanked open the wooden door, the frozen iron handle biting my skin like an asp. Heat and light blinded me as I slipped inside. “Feyre!” Elain’s soft gasp scraped past my ears, and I blinked back the brightness of the fire to find my second-eldest sister before me. Though she was bundled in a threadbare blanket, her gold-brown hair—the hair all three of us had—was coiled perfectly about her head. Eight years of poverty hadn’t stripped from her the desire to look lovely.

A key part of Elain’s loveliness also seems to be linked to her kind and hopeful nature. This beauty is compared to the loveliness of dawn, when the sun greets the night and the two twine together in colorful harmony. If you pay attention to the details that Sarah includes to describe that loveliness, it matches beautifully with what we later see in the Dawn Court. I’ll address this more in my dawn meta, but Feyre actually calls the steep drop-off of the Dawn Sunstone Palace a beautiful, colorful death. If Elain is a lightsinger, this suggestion of deadly beauty is even more fitting.

At the sweetness and youth and kindness, untouched by Prythian, unaware of what I’d done, become— I backed away a step. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t bring this upon them. Then Elain’s face appeared over Mrs. Laurent’s round shoulder. Beautiful—she’d always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn.

Elain’s golden-brown hair was half up, her pale skin creamy and flushed with color, and her eyes, like molten chocolate, were wide as they took me in. They filled with tears and silently overran, spilling down those lovely cheeks.

We then see the manifestation of a beautiful, colorful death when Elain, as the lovely fawn of spring, accepts Truth-Teller from Azriel, her deadly counterpart. Most of the ethereal references in the series are also linked to spring, including will-o’-the-wisps (spirits of air and light that are often associated with bogs) and hidden melodies of nature. It is not a coincidence that Feyre and Nesta often associate Elain with spring and rebirth as well as dawn and hope. The light in her eyes is compared to a promise of the future (one full of life and hope) and her jasmine-and-honey scent is described as a promise of spring. But it would be a mistake to think you are safe with this ethereal beauty.

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife.

Life (light) and death (dark) blend between them in this painting Feyre envisions. This blend reminds me of the Book of Breathings, when it spoke in threes the day when all three Archeron sisters were in Hybern:

Life and death and rebirth, Sun and moon and dark, Rot and bloom and bones

Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn.

Love me, touch me, sing me.

Light and dark and gray and light and dark and gray—

Since Elain is the third sister (thanks for that, bonus chapter), Sarah may have planted clues in the third part of each section from the Book of Breathings. Gray is a blend of the two: dark and light, life and death, trembling fawn and fanged beast. And if the magical knife—Truth-Teller—is the connection between Elain and Azriel, then it might also make sense for their connection to be one of power. As a creature of spring and of death, Elain may be a lightsinger. Hence, the reference to sing me. The power they share is Singing. And by singing, I don’t mean literal. From what we have observed from the series and his bonus POV, Azriel’s shadowsinging (speaking with shadows and using them as spies) is silent, or at least it is silent to most, if not all. If they share a bond of power, they may indeed be two sides of the same coin as Feyre’s iconic painting hints.

Wait, but isn’t Elain a seer? Yes, but the extent of her powers has yet to be determined. It is unclear what other powers she may possess. The Cauldron—that wicked bowl of life and death, according to the Suriel—found Elain to be so lovely that it gifted her with such powers. We already know that it enhanced her existing skills of observation by gifting her Sight. But what if it rewarded her loveliness with Song? In ancient Norse traditions of magic, Sight and Song often go hand in hand; while one gives you the power to divine the future, the other allows you to influence the future. I speculate that the Cauldron may have also shared its own silent siren song with Elain. The one that only those who are Made can hear and the wind and shadows sense. Unlike her sister, Elain’s transformation is described through sea imagery; she is washed from the Cauldron on a wave, like a prince who is washed ashore from a shipwreck or a mermaid who is transformed with a magical potion in a sea witch’s cauldron in the original Little Mermaid.

And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. […] Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer.

“It came here—its power. I can feel it—slithering around. Looking.” […] It was a song and invitation, a cluster of notes sung by a voice that was male and female, young and old, haunting and alluring and— […] Again, the Cauldron sang its siren song. […] Nesta was already moving, sprinting for where we’d heard that voice. Luring Elain out. […] I knew how it had done it. I’d dreamed of it. Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

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.

The slithering presence of the Cauldron not only reminds me of the first time we meet Elain (her hair perfectly coiled), but it also behaves like a fanged beast. The silent siren song is full of duality, both lovely and terrifying. And it uses its song (power) to create an illusion of what the target wants most: a friendly face that promises love and healing. These powers are strikingly close to lightsingers. What if it saw the quiet steel beneath Elain’s loveliness, and gifted her with figurative claws? Or perhaps trusted her with the ability to see and influence, with her hopeful perspective? It certainly doesn’t seem like a coincidence when her sisters notice that she snarls and grows claws after she is Made.

Perhaps this traumatic transformation is what the Weaver’s honeyed and horrible song, as she spun death on her thorn-sharp wheel, foreshadowed in ACOMAF. When two sisters who go to the sea to watch their father’s ships arrive, the younger is forced into the water and drowns:

“Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam, ’Til her corpse came to the miller’s dam.”

What did he do with her veins so blue? He made strings to his viol thereto.”

What did he do with her eyes so bright? On his viol he set at first light.

What did he do with her tongue so rough? ‘Twas the new till and it spoke enough.”

Washed ashore, the princess (her father is the king, as we learn) is then transformed into a magical instrument of bone that sings truth. The connection with drowning and transforming is already clear. But you’ll want to keep the other bolded parts that hint at other connections to blue veins, eyes so bright, and tongue so rough, in mind for the next two sections.

only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all:

We have quite a few hints that Elain is hiding another side, like lightsingers. And it may not be fair or sweet like her soft and lovely exterior.

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

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

“I 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.”

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.

Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own heart as she pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone.

In addition to the observations about Elain’s behavior, we’re also introduced to the carved rose Papa Archeron made for Elain. This rose is half-hidden in shadows and positioned next to a primal goddess. Nesta ends her book by placing Elain’s carved rose on her father’s gravestone. Light and life are constantly (and, in my opinion, intentionally) juxtaposed with darkness and death around Elain, as this may be yet another hint of her duality. She is both soft and fierce, lovely and deadly.

Another hint of this duality occurs when the Inner Circle (IC) discusses the rebirth of the Valkyries and Rhys makes an interesting connection to Elain, prompting us to think about that hidden side. The Valkyries were as lovely as Elain on the outside, and became as bloodthirsty as Amren (who was once a fearsome creature) on the battlefield.

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

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

We’ve seen this transformation before when Elain accepted Truth-Teller as a lovely fawn, then slammed the dagger through Hybern’s throat and snarled as a fanged beast.

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.”

Perhaps Truth-Teller not only struck true, but revealed Elain’s other side that we shall see unfold in all of its fearsome glory in the next book.

who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost […] they kill for sport, not food.

It’s true that Elain doesn’t, to our knowledge, possess a beckoning voice like Gwyn. This may still be a key hint and she may be a lightsinger after all. But if a lightsinger’s power is more like the Cauldron’s siren song, it is silent (to almost all) and creates a vision, unbeknownst to the target, for luring. Who is most associated with the Cauldron and visions? Elain, of course. She may even possess the power to appear to others, and we can use the Suriel tracking to support speculation:

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.” […] Her finger lifted, hovering over the map, the courts. Slowly, she set it down. “There,” she breathed. “It is going there. Now.”

“Thrice now, we have met. Thrice now, you have hunted for me. This time, you sent the trembling fawn to find me. I did not expect to see those doe-eyes peering at me from across the world.”

First, it’s important to note that the Suriel confirmed Elain is the trembling fawn, echoing the Book of Breathings’ greeting to the third sister. But how, exactly, did the Suriel see Elain’s doe eyes from across the world? Like the Cauldron, she used her power to search for a specific creature, and somehow appeared to it even though she was not physically in the Middle. Did it seem like a dream to the Suriel, as it did to Feyre when the Cauldron searched for Elain and created the vision of Greyson and their future? Could she use this ability to not only track, but also silently communicate, influence events, or lure? Or is she able to take on different forms, as I’ve already theorized she did during the Blood Rite? Is that why she was so determined in her line of questioning about Amren’s ability to change forms, specifically the male form?

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.” Mor frowned down at her own form, ogling her considerable assets. “True.” Cassian snickered.

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.

Can Elain appear as different friendly faces, either male or female, to lure or help as she pleases? It seems no coincidence that Balthazar appears to Nesta when she and Emerie are near a river and hopelessly lost. He appears at dusk, as if out of nowhere.

Nesta wore the boots, even though her blistered feet objected, and made a careful circle around the campsite, listening for anything. Anyone. Scanning every rock and cleft boulder. Nothing.

The sky darkened. There had to be caves around here somewhere. Where the fuck were they? Where—

“The entrance is here.” Nesta whirled, dagger out, to find an Illyrian male standing ten feet away. How he’d crept up, how he’d survived given the gash running down the side of his face—

This scene reminds me of another time when Nesta was surprised by someone’s presence…

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

This possibility is certainly far fetched, but if Elain is a lightsinger and they can shift form to lure with different friendly faces (appearing as what the target needs or wants in that moment), it would be a surprise worth the pay-off. In fact, we may come to learn that other well-timed encounters were not truly coincidental, but Elain exploring and testing her powers. Imagine the shock if she is caught and the truth begins to unravel? I would love to see her use this power to outmaneuver others, including the IC. It would be true to her trend of perpetually surprising them. The only person I suspect might know that Elain has other powers to offer is Amren. Why else would she say whatever powers rather than seer 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.

Although not a confirmed trait, light is part of the title, and if lightsinging is a counterpart to shadowsinging, it might also make sense that light would be an important part of their power, especially if it involves using light to create or summon visions. As you may have noticed, Elain is frequently connected to light; Feyre described her as full of light (life and hope). Even her pain—including her depression, which was described as a white void—is associated with light. When she let in the light to fill the void, did it whisper to her like shadow whispered to Azriel in his darkest moment?

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light.

Her skin was so pale it looked like fresh snow in the harsh light. I realized then that the color of death, of sorrow, was white. The lack of color. Of vibrancy. […] Nesta’s rage was better than this … shell. This void. My breath caught as I edged around her chair. Beheld the city view she stared so blankly at. Then beheld the hollowed-out cheeks, the bloodless lips, the brown eyes that had once been rich and warm, and now seemed utterly dull. Like grave dirt.

Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. And now nothing remained.

As we already know, Elain does not remain a void. She finds understanding, purpose, friends, and hope again (these are key ingredients in the healing process for all three sisters).

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” […] It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed. […] Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

Elain stood between Nuala and Cerridwen at the long worktable. All three of them covered in flour. Some sort of doughy mess on the surface before them. […] There was a slight sparkle in her brown eyes. As if she’d been enjoying herself with them. […] Elain was glancing between all of us, and as her eyes began to shutter, I gave her a broad smile and said, “I hope it’ll be done soon—I’m starved.” Elain offered a faint smile in return and nodded. She was hungry. She was … doing something. Learning something.

Azriel’s discovery of her Sight helped bring clarity to Elain. Paired with the quiet companionship and opportunity to learn and create with the twins, she was able to start the process of mastering void and to begin living again. She reclaims her strength and curiosity, which is on full display in the scene where she and Feyre learn about Void and Hope.

“The silver thread,” Elain asked. “What is that called?” The weaver paused the loom again, the colorful strings vibrating. She held my sister’s gaze. No attempt at a smile this time. “I call it Hope.”

The weaver explained to my sister, “I made it after I mastered Void.” I stared and stared at the black fabric that was like peering into a pit of hell. And then stared at the iridescent, living silver thread that cut through it, bright despite the darkness that devoured all other light and color.

The weaver went on, “I have to create, or it was all for nothing. I have to create, or I will crumple up with despair and never leave my bed. I have to create because I have no other way of voicing this.” Her hand rested on her heart, and my eyes burned. “It is hard,” the weaver said, her stare never leaving mine, “and it hurts, but if I were to stop, if I were to let this loom or the spindle go silent …” She broke my gaze at last to look to her tapestry. “Then there would be no Hope shining in the Void.”

That living thread is iridescent, which means it is luminous and colorful, seeming to change color depending on which angle you view it. Color is connected to beauty, life, and hope in both Feyre’s and Nesta’s stories; using color to create gives Feyre hope, and Nesta uses the colorful sunset to dispel the darkness of Oorid (bog) from her, and to fill herself with hope.

Similarly, light and color return to Elain when she begins to live again. This association strengthens over time, from ACOWAR to ACOSF:

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.

Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine.

“Then why did you pick this body?” Elain asked, the faelight of the chandelier catching in the ripples of her golden-brown braid. […] Elain asked, “And once you were in this body, you couldn’t change?”

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

Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health. Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun beyond the windows.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

Like the thread of Hope, Elain is luminous and colorful. She also has a surprising number of water references. The murky realm of her visions, blue veins of her eyelids that look like streams, the ripples of her braid that the light appears to catch, the sparkling river of her scent that Nesta followed…light and water and life entwined together in one female. She is like the twining, rippling surface of the Sidra that the light reflects off of:

The water meandered past, its dark surface rippling with golden faelights from the streetlamps and the bright jewels of the Rainbow.

If she is a lightsinger, is it possible that her lovely appearance—her rippling hair, molten eyes, glowing skin, and soothing scent—is meant to draw others in? I’ve spoken about her scent before, but this is yet another hint of her duality, as both jasmine and honey are connected to light and dark and life and death. Jasmine, in particular, is used both to calm (sleep) and excite (aphrodisiac). It’s as though Elain is a glowing Venus flytrap, with her innocent looking flowers that distract you from the trap of her sharpened teeth. Convenient that those plants can also survive in bogs.

Lightsingers supposedly lure in the bog, which is a freshwater wetland; there are different types of bogs, including those with freshwater streams and those that grow over ponds or lakes. Based on what Cassian shared, it seems like lightsingers (as well as kelpies, witches, and other unwanteds) were forced to live in the bog for survival. Bogs have harsh living conditions, but perhaps that is also a fitting connection for Elain. Feyre remarks in ACOTAR that the years of living in poverty did not destroy Elain’s loveliness; in fact, she missed their dark and dilapidated cottage.

I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me.

She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger.

What would Elain see in the bog? A prison that traps the unwanteds of society, such as her, or a shelter, shielding her from the cruelty and judgment of the world? How would she feel in its presence? She sat next to the Cauldron without a hint of discomfort, so the wild magic may not bother her as much as others.

It is unclear if lightsingers live beyond the bog, but if they are like the mythological rusalki, they can operate near any body of water. Elain seems to be connected to both freshwater and saltwater. In addition to being compared to streams, rivers, and rippling surfaces, she once lived in a manor by the sea. Her father was known as the Prince of Merchants for his success as a seafaring merchant. As his princess, Elain planned to brave the sea with him for botanical exploration and adventure. And, as we’ve already established, her experience in the Cauldron evoked sea imagery, with special emphasis on her fine-boned spine and delicate legs. Honestly, Elain seems like a cross between both the prince (who also lived by the sea) and the little mermaid (who, in the original fairytale, was considered quiet and strange and spent most of her time in her garden). And that combination makes sense when you consider that one has an arranged marriage, and the other is keeping her true nature a secret. It wouldn’t surprise me if her story involved revealing her hidden side, which may be the thing of secret, lovely beauty Sarah foreshadowed, and using her voice to assert her needs and wants.

Beyond her alluring appearance, Elain’s colorful light seems to influence Azriel the most. If they have a bond of power, that also makes sense.

When she is lured by the Cauldron…

Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

When her face shines with joy and hope…

Elain nodded, smiling up at me, and it was tentative joy—and life that shone in her eyes. A promise of the future, gleaming and sweet. […] That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room.

When she gives him a funny gift…

I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

Her joy seems to brighten the shadows, though this isn’t particularly unusual since Mor has affected him similarly in the past. The detail that is the most striking, actually, is that his eyes seem to glow with strong emotion only for Elain. Her brown eyes shine with warmth consistently, to the point that it is alarming when Feyre sees that they are dull and void of life, like grave dirt. When we see other characters’ eyes light up, it is typically in joy or amusement, but Elain’s eyes light up even when she is in pain:

Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.

So are Azriel’s glowing eyes in response to Elain another sign of their bond of power, or simply a matter of feeling toward each other? Why hasn’t anyone else been able to affect him in the same way? His reactions to others aren’t nearly as noteworthy or emotional.

If they do share a bond of power, such as the carranam bond that we see in the Throne of Glass series, it seems like they might be able to share their powers with one another as well. Sarah seems to have carefully planted hints of this potential throughout the last few books:

Elain steps out of a shadow, just like Azriel.

Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed.

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.”

She appears at Feyre’s side without her realizing it, just like Azriel.

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again.

Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps.

And Feyre compares the veil of steam around Elain’s shoulders to Azriel’s shadows, which as we learned in ACOWAR, can be used to veil someone entirely from view.

“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.

Another more subtle link is that Elain’s flowers, like Azriel’s shadows, twine on her dresser.

Azriel shook his head, shadows twining around his wrists.

His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. “Elain’s drawer.”

There are few other things that twine in this series, most of them also connected to either Elain or Azriel: vines, flowers, shadows, rivers, and lovers, particularly those who share a bond. Is it possible that we might see shadow and light twine or blend together in the next book, like Feyre’s iconic painting suggests?

It appears as though the shadows might sense Elain’s power, if it is similar to the Cauldron’s siren song:

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around.

This reaction makes sense for a couple of reasons: shadow and wind were fearful of the Cauldron’s power (siren song) when it came for Elain. It created a compelling vision of exactly what Elain wanted at the time, and she was lured as a result. It is a dangerous kind of power. But does that mean the Cauldron or Elain are evil? Not necessarily. We’ve seen this set up before in ACOTAR with the Suriel. Lucien warned Feyre about its wickedness, but to our surprise it is incredibly helpful and uses its power to make the realm a better, more hopeful place. In fact, that is its very last request to Feyre as it dies.

What we’re first led to believe about the Suriel:

“The Suriel. But they’re old and wicked, and not worth the danger of going out to find them. And if you’re stupid enough to keep looking so intrigued, I’m going to become rather suspicious and tell Tam to put you under house arrest. Though I suppose you would deserve it if you were indeed stupid enough to seek one out.”

What we learn about the Suriel over the course of the series:

“Feyre Archeron,” the Suriel said again, gazing at the leafy canopy, the sky peeking through it. A painful inhale. “A request.” I leaned close. “Anything.” Another rattling breath. “Leave this world … a better place than how you found it.”

And as its chest rose and stopped altogether, as its breath escaped in one last sigh, I understood why the Suriel had come to help me, again and again. Not just for kindness … but because it was a dreamer. And it was the heart of a dreamer that had ceased beating inside that monstrous chest.

And the connections with the Suriel don’t end there: whenever it arrives, the entire wood (including the wind) go silent. The creeping silence ripples toward Feyre, and despite its help, she still trembles in fear in its presence. The bones make it appear brittle, but it is actually very powerful. Fearsome in its own right.

Rippling toward me, the birds stopped chirping, the wind stopped sighing in the pines.

Some primal, lingering human part of me trembled as I took in the snare around its legs, pinning it to the ground.

The Suriel rose to its full height, towering over me even from across the clearing. I had not realized that despite the bone, it was muscled— powerful.

And its voice? Like the Cauldron (and Elain, if she is a lightsinger), the Suriel also speaks with contrasting sounds and has associations with the sea.

Suriel’s voice:

“Human,” it said, and its voice was at once one and many, old and young, beautiful and grotesque.

Cauldron’s song:

It was a song and invitation, a cluster of notes sung by a voice that was male and female, young and old, haunting and alluring and—

Suriel’s connection to the sea:

The Suriel clicked its bony fingers together, like the many-jointed limbs of a crustacean, tip-tapping against each other.

Cauldron’s connection to the sea:

Again, the Cauldron sang its siren song.

Do the shadows sense these contrasts in her voice, like the Cauldron and Suriel? Or is it her connection to colorful light that causes them to shift back? Their reaction also seems similar to the way the shadows retreat when Mor enters the library.

Indeed, in the library’s deep gloom, Mor shone like a ray of sunshine. Even the darkness at its bottom seemed to slither away.

As we’ve already established, Elain’s glow is compared to the light of dawn and dusk, when the light is most colorful and the sky is full of contrast. It makes sense that her bright and colorful light might counteract the effect of the shadows, but if they were truly concerned about Azriel’s welfare around her, they would guard him rather than vanish. If light came to her like Azriel’s shadows, would Elain also be able to use them to hide in broad daylight, sneaking up on those around her? Or would it be limited to projecting visions? In the rescue scene with Elain, Azriel’s ability to shadow-bind disappeared with the arrival of the dawn. Would Elain be able to light-bind (or perhaps light-blind is a more fitting title) them in dire situations to escape notice in broad daylight?

Azriel had made us invisible—shadow-bound. We sprinted between tents, feet flying over the grass and dirt. “Hurry,” he whispered. “The shadows won’t last long.” For in the east, behind us … the sun was beginning to rise.

We already know from Elain’s rescue scene that they work well together, even without training. If they decided to work together, as partners, their song would be a silent symphony of light and shadow, life and death. A colorful, beautiful death, and a thing of secret, lovely beauty.

And despite what one statement has led us to believe, Elain can be both a lovely spirit of spring and a dangerous creature of death. Why choose when you have the power to be both? She may not be the obvious choice as a lightsinger, but it is impressive how this possibility brings together several different threads:

Blodeuwedd inspiration (a Welsh goddess of spring transformed into a creature of darkness and death)

Suriel traits (her powers resemble the Suriel’s magical knowledge, voice of contrasts, and strange association with the sea and death)

Siren-like Cauldron (the wicked Cauldron possesses the power to lure, so perhaps it shared this gift with its favorite Archeron sister, capitalizing on her beauty and ensuring she can outmaneuver and defend herself if needed)

Little Mermaid threads (sea references, doting father, rebellious daughter, arranged marriage, magical change, forbidden love)

Lightsingers are perceived as evil, but it’s important to clarify (again and again) that this is information we learned from one source. And if previous books have taught us anything, creatures are rarely purely good or evil (like most characters) in this realm. Why would this particular creature be any different? Females who have mysterious and mighty power are often demonized because they challenge the status quo; the reality is much more complex. I would bet that regardless of who the lightsinger is, they would ultimately use their power to help…to weave a more hopeful story that shines with light to balance the darkness.