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#secrets on land
siphonharapeco · 1 month
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slashmagpie · 5 months
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Pearl and Gem glance at each other. Then, as one, they glance back at Tango, who is, evidently, not Tango.
“Do we have an amnesiacold on our hands?” Gem asks. 
“Maybe,” says Pearl, glancing back at Tango again. “Tango, buddy, you feeling alright?”
“I—” Tango opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I mean, I’m a little under the weather, to tell you the truth—I ate a South African sausage and it disagreed with me.”
Pearl hums. “And it’s messed with your memory a bit, right?”
“Yes! I mean, no—I mean, how did you—?”
“Would you say that you have a bit of an amnesiacold, Tango?” asks Gem.
“Amnesiacold?”
“You know. Amnesiacold!” Gem says. “When you get sick and forget everything and feel like somebody else?” 
“Ah.” Tango pulls himself to shore. Frowns. “It’s more of an amnesia-food-poisoning, if I’m honest.”
Pearl winces. “Your poor digestive system.”
“It’s not very nice Pearl, I’ll tell you that much,” Tango says, voice low, one hand pressed against his stomach as he pulls a face.
“Okay, that’s enough, I don’t need to hear about your gut issues,” Gem interrupts. “But—you have an amnesiacold! You know, I was an amnesiacold last season.”
“You mean, you had an amnesiacold?”
“No, I was one.” Gem winks. “Like—Tango has an amnesiacold. But you? You’re the amnesiacold. You know?”
Tango’s shoulders hike up with discomfort. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Tango. And I think you guys should—should skadoodle somewhere else. Should bother-someone-else-ificate. Begone.” 
“I had an amnesiacold last season, you know,” Pearl says. “Gem was one. You can tell us, buddy, we’re not gonna tell anyone.”
“Promise,” Gem says with a nod. “This is a safe space! You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not with us.”
Tango stares at them for a long, long moment, then sags, face falling. He looks exhausted, suddenly, and Pearl feels a rush of sympathy. It can’t be easy, being thrown into the game halfway through, with no context for anything.
“It’s been rough, dudes,” Tango says, voice cracking. “It’s been really really rough. I forgot how hard it was to get anything done on this server! There’s so much chaos, and—”
Wait.
“Ren?”
Not-Tango grins. “In the flesh,” he says with a bow of his head. “Or… not my flesh, exactly.” 
“Ren?” Gem asks, tilting her head in confusion.
“Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met…”
Gem and Ren peer at each other for a moment. “You do look familiar,” Ren says eventually.
“Yeah,” Gem agrees. “I mean, obviously you look familiar—you look like Tango!—but… yeah.” 
They stare at each other for a moment more.
“Maybe we met in a dream?” Ren says at last.
Gem nods. “Sure. Makes as much sense as anything else.”
Pearl glances between them, rocking awkwardly back on her heels. She clears her throat, drawing their attentions back to her. “Welcome back, buddy,” she says to Ren. “Good to see you again.”
“I wish that I could say the same,” Ren says morosely. “I thought I was—I was done, Pearl.” Now that she knows it's Ren, she can hear his cadence in Tango’s voice, voice dropping rough and low with drama as he bows his head. “I was done. No more games, not for the ol’ diggity dog. And now… Here I am!” He laughs a little, stretching out his arms to indicate the server at large. “In a body that’s not mine, in a world I’ve never seen, in a game I do not understand.”
“Oh, Ren…” Pearl frowns. She doesn’t know what to say. 
Gem jumps in. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s just one session, you know? You can do one session!”
“I suppose I must.” Ren looks up at them, jaw tightening. “If I am here—I suppose I must.”
“I’d never been in any of these games before I was Cleo for a bit last season,” Gem says. “So you have an advantage there! And, hey—maybe you can come back next season, and we can meet for real?”
Ren shifts uncomfortably. There’s something heavy hanging about him, something Pearl can’t quite understand. She remembers the last time she’d seen him, skull caved in from the dripstone spike dropped on his head. She remembers her own amnesiacold, the exhaustion that had dragged at her before it had settled in, the memories that had plagued her and just wouldn’t go away. And she wonders—
Just how exhausted would you have to be that your body would have to leave as well as the rest of your self?
Just how sick would you have to be before you didn’t want to come back?
Still, Ren steadies himself. Quirks Tango’s mouth into a smile. “Maybe,” he says, meeting Gem’s gaze. “That would be nice, to meet for real.”
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traitofsleep · 3 months
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yes, the books i read are incredibly serious
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egophiliac · 2 months
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So the final character turns out to be based on Ryugen, but it feels kinda weird how there is also one based on Zangetsu and they aren't brothers
Or what if plot reveals they are brothers and he was actually adopted or stollen
I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S ACTUALLY RYUUGEN?! I made a joke about it when Toten got revealed but I didn't actually expect... (I'm counting it as a win though, which means I guessed three out of sixteen! ...given how wacky some of these got, I'm actually pretty proud of that.)
he seems very sweet though! I hope he and his secret hamsters are very happy together. 🐹
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(also:
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THIS WAS MY EXACT TRAIN OF THOUGHT TOO! either this is an incredible bit of meta foreshadowing, or an incredible bit of Takahashi trolling, and I -- I honestly don't know which is more likely)
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aseuki · 4 months
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Posting it on main too, but here's my contribution to the @hoshinokaabi-secretsanta with a gift for @mastercrowned!! All of the given prompts were So Delightful, but in the end I had to go with drawing Morpho ordering a Kirby Burgie (or maybe 10) asdlkgjn
version without the text bubble under the cut!
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This whole event was a Delight to participate in! Had I more time and energy I would have Defo scribbled out more, but for Now pls enjoy my Favorite part of the image that Unfortunately got masked by the completed piece which is.
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Scrungle Dee
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mtg-cards-hourly · 2 months
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Snow-Covered Plains
Artist: Jubilee TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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wingedblooms · 3 months
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Blooming dreams
Gardeners, I think, dream bigger dreams than emperors. (Mary Cantwell)
This meta is a continuation of my thoughts over the years, but especially the ones expressed in the following links. Please be aware that there are major hofas spoilers in this post and avoid if needed.
Secret, lovely seer / Forbidden secrets
A rose in the thorns / The flower of life
Seer, wise woman, witch / Three sisters witches / Starborn light
Since my first meta, I have been fixated on Elain’s connection to the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (let's call her Wyrd) and her potential powers, including sight, shapeshifting, and healing. They are all related when you’re talking about Wyrd, though I am not here to say what I have written is what Sarah has planned. This post is more a love letter to Sarah’s mystical and earthy depiction of Elain and what I would love to see in her story based on all the seeds she’s planted (and if there is an actual magical bean seed involved, I’ll love her all the more for it). Thanks especially to @psychologynerd for previewing this fever dream of a post.
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. (acotar)
From the first book in the series, Feyre recognizes that Elain views things differently. She views things that are sad and dark with hope, and that’s why Sarah has called her the quiet dreamer. It’s a strength that sets her apart. I like to think that’s also what the Cauldron—though warped by the Asteri—saw when she was forced into its womb. 
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)
@silverlinedeyes and I wondered if it may have recognized Elain as a kindred spirit, some echo of its Mother form. A creator, life-bringer. Were the waters of the Cauldron more like Silba’s Womb—a darkness of creation, sweet and lovely—when Elain was immersed? Or is it possible that when Elain entered its dark womb she viewed it differently than her sister? Did she see a wounded creator to help rather than an enemy to combat? 
Elain’s hopeful perspective might be why it gifted her with such powers, powers that we know allow her to see differently than others. And since it may have enhanced her unique perception, I wonder if it also enhanced her ability to bring life and beauty into the world. As a gardener, Elain is well acquainted with the task of envisioning her garden and then getting her hands dirty to make that vision a reality. Dream and reality are entwined in gardening, just like her Sight.
“She loves to garden. Always loved growing things. Even when we were destitute, she managed to tend a little garden in the warmer months. And when–when our fortune returned, she took to tending and planting the most beautiful gardens you’ve ever seen. Even in Prythian. It drove the servants mad, because they were supposed to do the work and ladies were only meant to clip a rose here and there, but Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.” (acowar)  If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta…she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. [...] Nesta stared them all down. Elain kept her focus on the dry, rocky ground. (acowar)  She had no mental shields, no barriers. 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) If Elain’s mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta’s…They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon. (acowar)  “What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this…I think the world needs more gardens.” (acowar) 
As we saw in acosf for Nesta—a new type of warrior who forges magical swords and retrieves the Harp from an ancient fortress (the Prison) connected to the Starborn—these descriptions are clearly meant to foreshadow what occurs in the sisters’ stories. While Nesta is a freshly forged sword, Elain is blooming life in Illyria. And what do we learn in hofas? 
“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”  Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?” [...]  “All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)
We receive confirmation that the Cauldron is associated with the sister peaks, as I suspected, and Ramiel in particular as @merymoonbeam has previously suggested. 
Before Bryce could contemplate this further, Silene went on, But my mother and father knew they needed the most valuable of all the Daglan’s weapons. Bryce tensed. This had to be the thing that had given them the edge— The snows around Ramiel parted, revealing a massive bowl of iron at the foot of the monolith. Even through the vision, its presence leaked into the world, a heavy, ominous thing. “The Cauldron,” Nesta said, dread lacing her voice. […] “The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced…those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.”  [...] “They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.” (hofas) 
In Forbidden secrets, I theorized that Elain’s powers might allow her to map the secrets of the land in order to heal it and @offtorivendell discussed magical mounds in her theory on reviving dusk. It seems like the Asteri did indeed leave secrets behind, which might explain why certain places continue to be forbidden and barren. But we are given hope that they do not need to remain that way. In hofas, Bryce wakes and wields the land belonging to her Starborn ancestors on the Prison island:
And precisely as Theia had gifted her own power to Silene … perhaps Silene had in turn left that same power here, to be claimed by a future scion. One by one, rapid as shooting stars, the thoughts raced through Bryce. More on instinct than anything else, she dropped to her knees and slammed her hand atop the eight-pointed star. Bryce reached with her mind, through layers of rock and earth—and there it was. Slumbering beneath her. Not firstlight, not as she knew it on Midgard—but raw Fae power from a time before the Drop. The power ascended toward her through the stone, like a glimmering arrow fired into the dark— [...] Like a small sun emerging from the stone itself, a ball of light burst from the floor. A star, twin to the one in Bryce’s chest. Her starlight at last awoke again, as if reaching with shining fingers for that star hovering inches away. With trembling hands, Bryce guided the star to the one gleaming on her chest. Into her body. White light erupted everywhere. Power, uncut and ancient, scorched through her veins. The hair on her head rose. Debris floated upward. She was everywhere and nowhere. She was the evening star and the last rays of color before the dark. Azriel had nearly reached the tunnel. Another flap of his wings and he’d be swallowed by its dark mouth. But at a mere thought from Bryce, stalactites and stalagmites formed, closing in on him. The room became a wolf, its jaws snapping for the winged warrior— The rock had moved for her, as it had for Silene. “Stop him,” she said in a voice that was more like her father’s than anything she’d ever heard come out of her mouth. Azriel swept for the tunnel archway—and slammed into a wall of stone. The exit had sealed. Slowly, he turned, wings rustling. Blood trickled out of his nose from his face-first collision with the rock now in his path. He spread his wings, bracing for a fight. The mountain shook, the chamber with it. Debris fell from the ceiling. Walls began shifting, rock groaning against rock. As if the place this had once been was fighting to emerge from the stone. [...] From far away, she could sense it: the things lurking within the mountain, her mountain. Twisted, wretched creatures. Some had been here since Silene had trapped them. Had been contemplating their escape and revenge all this time. She’d let them out if she restored the mountain to its former glory. And in that moment, the mountain—the island—spoke to her. Alone. It was so alone—it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth— (hofas)
The mountain–Bryce’s mountain–speaks to her, asking her to open her heart to it so it can finally rise from its slumber. Cue internal screaming, my friends, because this language was intentional and it might finally explain Elain’s conversation in this scene: 
She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth. “When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” (acowar)
Elain’s hearing is a source of concern after she is Made because it is unusually heightened; she hears so many things, usually connected to the nature around her as @silverlinedeyes theorized. Like calls to like, and so she might be able to hear the beating heart of the land around her, even as it slumbers. Perhaps that is why her eyes were drawn to the barren ground in Illyria.
Vesperus, an Asteri trapped in a glass coffin below the Prison, tells us more about the connection between the Cauldron and the land: 
“I am the Evening Star,” Vesperus seethed. Bryce rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll call you the Evening Star, too. Happy?” “Is it not fitting?” A wave of long fingers capped in sharp nails. “I drank from the land’s magic, and the land’s magic drank from me.” [...] Vesperus folded her hands in her lap. “A planet that was once green, as this one is.” “And that wasn’t good enough?” “We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.” [...] “Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron…” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”
This should come as no surprise because we saw this play out in acowar, but the Cauldron is tied to the soul of their world. The term soul is intentional, and we will return to it in a bit, but I started to wonder in Forbidden secrets about that connection. The influence of Wyrd is especially clear in the sacred peaks, where the Asteri left behind their secrets. Could Elain unravel the Asteri’s magic from the slumbering heart of the earth, and unbind the Cauldron as a result? Or will she need to go to Cretea to retrieve and purify the magic of the Asteri from the Cauldron like a healer would, in body and in spirit? (Hello, Nephelle celebrations, let’s go.) Nothing feels more right than seeing our strong-willed gardener get her hands dirty as she rips out the Asteri from the root, or beating heart, of their world. Sarah may have even hinted at this role for Elain as she describes getting into her mind for her book:
“There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain’s head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book. I’m not even joking. Elain’s now going to have dreams about ripping ivy out and the ivy creeping in through the windows to strangle her at night, because let me tell you, that ivy does not want to go.” (Sarah’s interview in acofas) 
English ivy is an aggressive invader and its hosts decline over time before they die. That’s exactly what the Asteri are: aggressive invaders that feed off of their hosts, warping the power of the land for their sole benefit, until it begins to wither away. In hofas, we learn that the Asteri hid their power throughout the land, including at the root of sacred mountains:
Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”
“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.
“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.” (hofas)
And we see the moment Bryce discovers that Vesperus has hidden her power in the root of the Prison mountain, which is what sustains her and weakens the land: 
Bryce clutched the Starsword tighter. Its power thudded into her palms like a heartbeat. “But why store your power here? It’s an island—not exactly an easy pit stop.” “There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”  […] “Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” […] “Theia had the gift,” Vesperus said, “but did not understand how to claim the light. I made sure never to reveal how during her training—how she might light up entire worlds, if she wished, if she seized the power to amplify her own. But you, Light-Stealer…She must have passed the gift down to you. And it seems you have learned what she did not.”  Vesperus peered at her bare feet, the rock beneath. “Theia never learned how to access the power I cached beneath my palace. She had no choice but to leave it there, buried in the veins of this mountain. Her loss—and my gain.” Oh gods. There was a fucking firstlight core here, far beneath their feet— (hofas)
These thin places are where ley lines—highways for magic and communication—overlap, allowing travel for those who are suited to it (wayfarers). Starborn and Asteri alike seem to be suited to these places, and have used them to store their power, causing the land around it to wither. 
“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.”
All of the sister peaks thrum with power and are at odds with the land around them. Barren. They might all be thin places, interconnected through ley lines...and hiding a cache of magic in the root (heart) of their souls.
Bryce’s ancestors, separated by the Void, planted clues for those with the gifts and vision to see it.
What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became … alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it. (hofas)
A secret carved in stone. What secrets remain under other sacred mountains, such as Ramiel? Is it any coincidence that Enalius, who defended Ramiel, was the owner of Truth-Teller? Or that the Cauldron is depicted there? Who would be equipped with the gifts and vision to uncover those secrets and finally set the soul of the land free, like Bryce? 
“Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it. […] Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was. (hofas)
Helena bound the soul of Avallen in magical chains. Doesn't that sound like what the Asteri did with the Cauldron and the land? There are so many hints that Elain is set up to address this plot, but the one I find the most compelling is given by the Under-King when he confirms who Urd (Wyrd) is:
The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin…they were like tattoos.” […] “And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)
Now, doesn't that sound familiar?
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. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)
The statues are essentially the same and Wyrd has already been described in terms that evoke the Mother, Cauldron, and Fate (Forces That Be). And Nesta just happened to feel the need (fateful tug?) to place Elain’s rose—a symbol of life and joy and beauty—right next to Urd, and drew our attention to it again in the final scene of her story. What do you want to bet that Wyrd, the Stone Mother, gave her favorite gardener the gifts and vision she needs to make her dream of building more gardens, of breathing life and beauty into the land, a reality?
Sarah has confirmed that the main female characters in her books are helped by others, usually a love interest and friends. So who might be foreshadowed to help Elain?
I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.”  “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. (acowar)  - “I’ll help you,” Nesta offered.  But Elain shook her head. “Nuala and Cerridwen will help me.”  Then she was gone–shoulders a little squarer.  - It was three by the time the others went to bed. [...] Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. (acofas)
It’s no coincidence that the characters closest to Elain possess unique powers that complement her own and relate specifically to the elements of Stone Mother. Azriel learned to speak the language of shadow and wind and stone, while the half-wraith twins are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone as @psychee92 discusses here. Their magic likely thrives in thin parts of the world. It also isn't a coincidence that Nesta noticed and wondered this:  
“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. (acosf) 
Their beautiful, wraith-like team has the gifts necessary to traverse the slumbering heart of the earth as easily as foreign courts, which is a hard combination to find and is uniquely suited for Elain’s mission to release the Cauldron and land from the magical chains of the Asteri. Especially since we learn that Bryce uses both blades of the Starborn to free Avallen from its magical chains:
On an exhale, she plunged the weapons into the slits in the eight-pointed star. The small one for the knife. The larger one for the sword.
And like a key turning in a lock, they released what lay beneath. (hofas)
They even help Bryce rid the land of the Asteri and their core of power, creating a larger void to devour the one the Asteri set in place. Back in acowar, as many have noticed, Sarah already planted this moment between Azriel and Elain:
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. (acowar)
She and Azriel seem to represent the balance of light and dark in the Starsword and Truth-Teller, as @merymoonbeam theorized. The Starborn blade—the one belonging to Enalius—is a bridge of connection between them. Bryce leaves the Starsword (Gwydion) and Truth-Teller with Nesta, encouraging her to learn about her connection to the Starborn (eight-pointed star). That might mean the Archeron Starborn connection may happen after all. I could see Elain wielding those blades when needed, activating their magic as she seemed to do with Truth-Teller, to release the land from its magical chains. It would also be interesting if Elain and Azriel functioned like the Made blades themselves, releasing the Asteri’s chains with their own blend of raw magic, and watching joyously as life blooms in earnest again.
Once they remove the magical chains of the Asteri—on the land and their sacred Cauldron—perhaps we’ll also discover what exists between Elain and Azriel at last: 
Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports–likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City–the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. 
“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” 
“I’d keep that question from Lucien.” 
“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?” 
Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…” (acowar)
@silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @elriell and others have written extensively about mating bonds, so I won’t discuss that in depth here. Essentially, Feysand and Nessian appear to have bonds that are true in spirit, and they are described as living threads of pure golden light between their souls. 
Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful. (acosf) 
This living light reminds me of the dawn, which is associated with healing and new beginnings. When Feysand and Nessian bind their souls together in these scenes, the dawn is invoked each time: 
Feysand
…I was his and he was mine, and we were the beginning and middle and end. We were a song that had been sung from the very first ember of light in the world. (acomaf)
Nessian
Cassian roared as he came, and the sound was the summons of a hunt, a symphony, a single clear horn playing as dawn broke over the world. (acosf)
And when Azriel first sees Elain in his bonus chapter, her hair is unbound and she appears like the dawn, gilded in living light on the longest night of the year. 
Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.
The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)
Is it possible that, with Elain’s connection to Wyrd and the land, her own threads of life are similarly chained, or warped? Perhaps when Elain clears away the Asteri’s power, we will finally see the truth blooming between them: threads of golden light twining together in an endless, earthy melody.
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chemdisaster · 4 months
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life series joel's fear of heights + him constantly water bucketing everywhere
like imagine him painstakingly honing that skill, perhaps not fully understanding why. the way it gradually shifts from "would be nice to have a safety blanket in case something goes wrong" to "need to have this skill need to know how to save myself need to land safely on the ground or else-"
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chiricat · 1 year
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assorted traditional doodles (mostly akty)
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opportunity-rise · 8 days
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proverbialschoolmarm · 8 months
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yeesiine · 4 months
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The secret of happiness is freedom, the secret of freedom is courage.
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miniiieevee · 2 years
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summer time with the family!! 
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weirdgirl92 · 10 months
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Don Bluth movie posters (1982-2000)
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mtg-cards-hourly · 21 days
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Island
Artist: Bob Ross TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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