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wingedblooms · 9 months

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Wraithlike

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

In the Throne of Glass series, Sarah makes quite a few references to wraiths. Forms that are wraithlike are nearly transparent; they are bodies that aren’t bodies. These forms move like the wind and appear suddenly. The most striking references include the void, like when Aelin and Manon enter a witch mirror and watch a memory in the space between. Or the references to hell, especially the grieving queen who walks like she is traveling through a dreamscape, or an empty, barren hell. Take a look for yourself:

He dragged a hand across the floor before the darkness, and greenish lights sprung up from where his fingers passed before being sucked into the void like wraiths on the wind. One of his hands was bleeding. (tog) Dorian Havilliard stood at the ballroom window, watching Celaena and Chaol dance in the garden beyond, their dark cloaks flowing around them like they were no more than two wraiths spinning through the wind. After hours of dancing, he’d finally managed to get free of the ladies demanding his attention, and had come to the window to get some much-needed fresh air. (com) Slowly, like lovely wraiths from a hell-realm, the witches appeared. (qos) Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but … a form nonetheless. (eos) Clad in white silk, her long curtain of dark hair unbound, the Grand Empress strolled, silent and grave as a wraith, down a walkway wending through the rock formations of the garden. Only moonlight filled the space—moonlight and shadow, as the empress strode alone and unnoticed, her simple gown flowing behind her as if on a phantom wind. White for grief—for death. […] Nesryn lingered in the shadows of the pillar, watching the woman drift farther away, as if she were wandering the paths of some dreamscape. Or perhaps some empty, barren hell. (tod) Silent as wraiths, they appeared across the glen. As if they’d simply sparked into existence in the shade of the foliage. Little bodies, some pale, some black as night, some scaled. Mostly concealed, save for spindly fingers and wide, unblinking eyes. Elide gasped. “The Little Folk.” (koa) It was over before it really started. The mercenary got in two hits, both met with those wicked-looking daggers. And then she knocked him out cold with a swift blow to the head. So fast—unspeakably fast and graceful. A wraith moving through the mist. (ab) The moon illuminated the mist swirling along the leaf-strewn ground, and made the trees cast long shadows like lurking wraiths. And there—standing in a copse of thorns—was a white stag. Celaena’s breath hitched. (ab)

Naturally, I was curious how these links held up when we actually meet wraiths in A Court of Thorns and Roses (acotar) and Crescent City (cc). In acotar, we meet half-wraith twins who appear and disappear suddenly, even into a puff of smoke. Amren says they are nothing but shadow and mist, and can travel through walls.

They appeared through the cracks from slivers of darkness, just as Rhysand had. But while he’d solidified into a tangible form, these faeries remained mostly made of shadow, their features barely discernable, save for their loose, flowing cobweb gowns. They remained silent when they reached for me. I didn’t fight them—there was nothing to fight them with, and nowhere to run. The hands they clasped around my forearms were cool but solid—as if the shadows were a coating, a second skin. (acotar) The shadow maids, as usual, walked through the walls and vanished. (acotar) Nails clicked on stone, and my escorts swapped glances before they swung me into an alcove, a tapestry that hadn’t been there a moment before falling over us, the shadows deepening, solidifying. I had a feeling that if someone pulled back that tapestry, they would see only darkness and stone. One of them covered my mouth with a hand, holding me tightly to her, shadows slithering down her arm and onto mine. She smelled of jasmine—I’d never noticed that before. After all these nights, I didn’t even know their names. (acotar) Amren, at least, knocked this time before entering. Nuala and Cerridwen, who had finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate female and vanished into puffs of smoke. “Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.” “Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.” “Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.” I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.” (acomaf)

In Crescent City, Vanir wraiths change bodies often to maintain a youthful appearance (thanks for this reminder, @offtorivendell!). We learn this when Bryce meets Vik, a wraith who is trapped in the beautiful body she possesses, and then ripped from that same body and contained in a box at the bottom of the Melinoë Trench as punishment. (This is a terrible punishment, but the name is fitting—Melinoë was associated with ghosts, and wraiths are ghostly in appearance.) Micah is truly the worst.

The wraith folded her alabaster hands in her lap, the unnatural elegance the only sign of the ancient power that rippled beneath the calm surface. Vik had no body of her own. Though she’d fought in the 18th, Isaiah had learned her history only when he’d arrived here ten years ago. How Viktoria had acquired this particular body, who it had once belonged to, he didn’t ask. She hadn’t told him. Wraiths wore bodies the way some people owned cars. Vanir wraiths switched them often, usually at the first sign of aging, but Viktoria had held on to this one for longer than usual, liking its build and movement, she’d said. Now she held on to it because she had no choice. It had been Micah’s punishment for her rebellion: to trap her within this body. Forever. No more changing, no more trading up for something newer and sleeker. For two hundred years, Vik had been contained, forced to weather the slow erosion of the body, now plainly visible: the thin lines starting to carve themselves around her eyes, the crease now etched in her forehead above the tattoo’s twining band of thorns. (hoeab) At least Bryce could now appreciate the beauty before her: the dark hair and pale skin and stunning green eyes were all Pangeran heritage, speaking of vineyards and carved marble palaces. But the grace with which Viktoria moved … Viktoria must have been old as Hel to have that sort of fluid beauty. To be able to steer her body so smoothly. (hoeab) “Through the glare of the firstlight beams atop the remote submersible, more fleshy white bits floated by. This was what the wraith Viktoria had been damned by Micah to endure. The former Archangel had shoved her essence into a magically sealed box while the wraith remained fully conscious despite having no corporeal form, and dropped her to the floor of the Melinoë Trench. […] The wraith’s shoebox-sized Helhole had been bespelled against the pressure. And Viktoria, not needing food or water, would live forever. Trapped. Alone. No light, nothing but silence, not even the comfort of her own voice. (hosab)

What does this mean for Elain’s story, and why am I even mentioning her in a wraith meta? In the acotar series, Nuala and Cerridwen, half-wraith twins, draw Elain out of her grief and help her learn how to bake. Sarah mentions that Elain considers them her friends twice in acosf alone:

Tending to the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens–she had purpose, and joy, and friends: those two half-wraiths who worked in Rhysand’s household. (acosf) “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)

She also plants the idea that Elain might be engaging in stealth training with them (and/or Azriel, who trained them). That would make sense since she has learned from them before and she started to move like them after developing a friendship. She tends to move silently and appears suddenly, even stepping out of shadow. Before she was Made, Elain moved with the grace of a doe, so that newfound skill may have come fairly naturally.

In acosf, Nesta also recalls how Elain was after being Made and refers to her as a ghost. She comments that she (Nesta) was the ghost now, worse than a ghost: she was a wrathful wraith. This description of a wraith doesn’t quite match what we know about the few wraiths in the maasverse we’ve met; it seems more like a frightening bedtime story of a legendary monster, which is perhaps meant to reflect Nesta’s own inner turmoil. But the description of Elain when she is first Made is eerily similar to the wraithlike queen in tod:

Where Nesta had been in contented silence before we found her, Elain’s silence was…hollow. Empty. Her hair was down—not even braided. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen it unbound. She wore a moon-white silk dressing robe. She did not look, or speak, or even flinch as we entered. Her too-thin arms rested on her chair. That iron engagement ring still encircled her finger. 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. (acowar)

The interesting part about this connection is that Elain likely was wandering through some dreamscape like a wraith with her Sight. This pale, hollow image of Elain also aligns with the definition of a wraith.

Elain appears wraithlike again (probably on purpose) when she wears a black gown in the Hewn City, a place of rotting darkness. Cassian notes:

“Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved modest gown leeched the brightness from her face.” […] He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court…It sucked the life from her.” (acosf)

Elain’s black dress makes her look plain and invisible compared to her sister. She lacks color and vibrancy just as she did in the House of Wind, though in black instead of white. It’s possible she did this on purpose since she’s altered her appearance before and the half-wraith twins helped her dress for that occasion, too. Could they have dressed her strategically to escape notice on solstice, and could this be another hint of wraithlike powers?

In Song of the wind, I wondered if Elain could be a pale wraith, a force of light and color and wind, who moves like Hope through the Void. She’s described in terms that do not have a definite form (pale, golden mass in his arms; sunlight on gold; purple and gold flashed), and even asked Amren about changing bodies in acofas. We know that Vanir wraiths can wear different bodies, like shapeshifters walk in different skins (ie., skinwalkers). Wraiths, however, have no definite form beneath the body they wear. Is that the true reason why Elain boldly asked Amren if she could take a different form, change bodies?

“Could you have done it? Decided to take a male form? […] Then why did you pick this body? […] And once you were in this body, you couldn’t change?” (acofas)

Elain as a wraith (or wraith adjacent, lol) would be a fun way to come full circle with the parallel @kimsnnn discusses here. After pointed inquiry about Amren’s otherworldly eyes, Nesta’s otherworldly power glowed silver in her eyes. It’s possible the dinner conversation about changing form might then be a hint that Elain and Amren will share otherworldly forms. Amren’s otherworldly form was a bird of prey, a messenger. She watched over humans, and when ordered, acted as a soldier-assassin.

Amren smiled slightly—at me, at Varian. “I watched them for so many eons. Humans—in my world, there were humans, too. And I watched them love, and hate—wage senseless war and find precious peace. Watched them build lives, build worlds. I was … I was never allowed such things. I had not been designed that way, had not been ordered to do so. So I watched. And that day I came here … it was the first selfish thing I had done. For a long, long while I thought it was punishment for disobeying my Father’s orders, for wanting. I thought this world was some hell he’d locked me into for disobedience.” (acowar)

You know who else watches others through physical eyes and Cauldron-blessed Sight? Elain. I’ve wondered before if she is an otherworldly messenger and/or guardian like Silba’s owl or the Suriel (who is your stereotypical wraith). Alert and aware. Silent travelers, full of wisdom. There are some who even believe the word wraith is connected to the Norse word for watcher, but several sources indicate the origin is unclear. Regardless, Elain acts like a wraithlike guardian, appearing suddenly out of shadow to protect her family. It's possible she used this skill to wear the body of Balthazar and help Nesta and Emerie find safety during the Blood Rite.

Even if Elain isn’t an actual wraith, I think we can reasonably predict that she will learn more from Nuala and Cerridwen, and their gifts may complement her own as she practices using her Cauldron-blessed powers. When she cannot see something, Elain says it is all mist and shadow, and Nuala and Cerridwen are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone. Could they teach Elain how to break through the walls of her Sight?

With all the connections wraiths seem to have with void and hell, Nuala and Cerridwen may help her use the Void to peer into and/or travel to Hel (as both @offtorivendell and I have theorized). It would make sense for them to use the space between together, especially if Elain has mystic abilities and can move fluidly across space like a wraith’s essence. They’ve been helping her all along and will probably continue to do so. In her own words, Elain already told us that “Nuala and Cerridwen will help her [me]” (acowar). And there are so many things Elain seems eager to learn from them.

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. The two handmaiden-spies instantly bowed to Rhys, and Elain— There was a slight sparkle in her brown eyes. As if she’d been enjoying herself with them. Nuala swallowed hard. “The lady said she was hungry, so we went to make her something. But—she said she wanted to learn how, so…” Hands wreathed in shadows lifted in a helpless gesture, flour drifting off them like veils of snow. “We’re making bread.” (acowar)

P.S., Is it any coincidence that they likely look like three lovely ghosts, covered in flour, when they work together?

#elain archeron #nuala and cerridwen #wraithlike elain #lovely wraiths #wraiths on the wind #watchers #guardians #ever shifting form #like the goddess of fate #major Urd vibes #flame and shadow #maasverse theories

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excxt · 7 years

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deleted scene one.

As the train passed from New York into New Jersey, the water became darker and the blue of the sky drained away and left a sheet of light grey, like the color of a sickly person’s skin. There was a long chain of mangled telephone poles half sunk into the muck along the tracks. Tall stalks of water-choked weeds swayed in unison as a sprawling ochre ocean with patches of swamp settled into the surface like crop circles. Towering rods of steel alive with electricity pierced the sky, webbed together by a net of lazily hanging ropes. The train thundered over a river of rippling oil slick depths with the criss-cross of dark rusted steel racing past the windows. It slithered stealthily between high walls of graffitied cement stained with the rusted rain runoff of abandoned power boxes. It rose into neighborhoods with trash scattered streets and crumbling brick. The train met the world through a sheet of icy rain or a sprinkling of snow that melted into mud when it hit the ground. Newark reminded me of Buffalo.

Rory’s voicemail picked up and I left a message. Hi, I am going to a job interview in East Orange, a position teaching music after school at the public library that popped up in a Craigslist search. I’m not sure what it pays and it’s very far, and no I didn’t move down here to work in East Orange. But the train ride is something. You’d like it. Okay. Talk to you soon.

The shades of grey and bars of steel held me enraptured like the coldness of an unconscious lover. It was a scene that managed to be filthy and beautiful at once. The mechanics of the the clattering train on its tracks and the defeated spirit of the old electrical pole, bent in half and splintered like a broken bone. The ominous shadow of the bridge’s metal stakes cast across a riverbed that cowered beneath it. It was familiar and fascinating as a place built by industry and then forgotten, much like the people huddled under the decaying roofs one stop over. I felt both large and small passing through it. I remembered feeling the same as the bus sat in traffic on the Tobin bridge on a misty Boston morning. I remembered looking out the window at the vast expanse of white fog shrouding the river and the harbor and everything below. We floated high above the earth.

There was a man sitting on a curb outside the East Orange Public Library. The building was large and square and of dull brown brick. The man looked up at me as I approached and then turned toward the doors. His face was set with deep chasmic wrinkles that folded around his drooping mouth and hollow eyes. One hand held the cement curb as if to steady himself from falling back or forward. He had long unkempt fingernails. Suddenly those fingernails were shrieking, a deafening wraithlike wail, as though they were being dragged across a blackboard on the inside of my eyelids. He held his gaze on me and I stumbled over my own feet in my panic. His nails were screaming and screaming and I staggered toward the door and stumbled up the steps, crushed and struggling against the hellish din. Once inside the foyer I leaned against the wall. My hands were numb and I couldn’t feel my feet. My face and neck prickled with heat and everything was moving further and further away. I felt the blood draining from my head and racing towards my heart, pumping and pounding while the screeching in my ears became a steady unceasing tone. Something was growing in my throat and blocking the deep breaths I knew I was supposed to take. I could feel the ground trembling and I thought wildly that it was the train, it must have toppled off the tracks and was hurtling straight into the side of this horribly boxy building, and now I’d be crushed, along with the Elaine who was supposed to interview me and thousands of books, fiery pages flying and splinters from wooden bookshelves cascading down. And then when it was over, when everything settled, that man and his fingernails would still be there, sitting on the curb among the wreckage, scratching and scratching and scratching. I wanted to cry, it was all so horrible. I wanted to run but my legs were worn out. I waited for the locomotive to come bursting through the wall but it didn’t. I finally slumped to the floor with my legs folded under me and blindly fished in my jacket pocket for my cell phone. My fingers clumsily navigated until Rory’s voicemail was calling to me from somewhere beyond the dissonant overtones still ringing in my ears.

Rory, me again. Having trouble going to this interview. It’s the worst building. Mom said you were having a bad couple of days too. Things aren’t great. I know. Okay. Talk to you later.

#rooms of the house

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wingedblooms · 8 months

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Slowly, like lovely wraiths from a hell-realm, the witches appeared. (qos)

I haven’t been able to shake this quote since the witch series. How amazing would it be if we see Elain, a powerful seer and witch, peer into and/or travel to Hel like a wraith with her friends Nuala and Cerridwen? I’m so ready for all of their spooky adventures and missions together.

#it’s already spooky season here #spooky elain #elain archeron #witch elain #wraithlike elain #wraiths from a hell-realm #nuala #cerridwen #witchy wraiths #spooks or spies #shadows on the wind #maasverse stuff #tog witches #elainarcheronweek2023 #day 2 #elain archeron week 2023

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wingedblooms · 9 months

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Wraiths wear bodies

When we find out that Vanir wraiths wear bodies and change them often…

It reminded me of Elain asking Amren about her ability to change bodies.

And I can’t help but wonder about the moment Nesta scans her sister and considers if she’s been training with the shadowsinger or…the half-wraith twins.

If Elain has learned to move like a wraith from her friends, is it possible she could learn to wear bodies or shift her appearance, too? Is that why she looked so wraithlike after she was changed in the Cauldron? I have a feeing their powers are much more similar than we realize.

More on wraiths here.

#elain archeron #lovely wraiths #maasverse theories #hoeab spoilers #vanir wraiths #nuala and cerridwen #elain archeron theory

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wingedblooms · 1 year

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The Ancients

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

“I’m afraid I can’t be of service,” Mort sniffed. “If you want an instant answer, you should find yourself a seer or an oracle.”

Celaena slowed her pacing. “You think if I read this to someone with the gift of clairvoyance, they might be able to … see some different meaning that I’m missing?”

“Perhaps. Though as far as I know, when magic vanished, those with the gift of Sight lost it, too.”

“Yes, but you’re still here.”

“So?” Celaena looked at the stone ceiling as if she could see through it, all the way to the ground above.

“So perhaps other ancient beings might retain some of their gifts, too.” (com)

In acowar, we learn that Elain is a seer and in the Maasverse, seer seems to be a broad term associated with the gift of Sight. Sarah sometimes uses seer interchangeably with oracle, as we see below.

It was a useless gift, she’d decided as a child. It couldn’t do much at all beyond blinding people, as she’d done to her father’s men when they came after her and her mother and Randall, as had happened to the Oracle when the seer peered into her future and beheld only her blazing light, as she’d done to those asp-hole smugglers. (hoeab)

An oracle appears to be a type of seer; at the very least, they have similar gifts of clairvoyance. Oracles were believed to be messengers, or conduits, for gods. We see indications of this in the scene where Hunt visits the oracle sphinx in hoeab. While we don’t know the full extent of Elain’s gifts, her abilities are referred to as oracular, and she shares parallels with both oracles and mystics in the Maasverse.

In fact, her gifts seem like they could rival the ancient beings Aelin referenced in the first quote. She tracks down Baba Yellowlegs—an Ancient—to help her unravel a mystery, and introduces us to another important method of Sight they cherish: witch mirrors.

Witch mirrors

If Yellowlegs truly was a witch, then perhaps she had the gift of Sight.

“Come to look into the mirrors?” she said, smoke spilling from her withered lips. “Done running from fate at last?” (com)

In the gloom, the caravan stretched on much wider and longer than should have been possible. A winding path had been made between the mirrors, leading into the dark—a path that Yellowlegs was now treading, as if there were anywhere to go inside this strange place.

[…]

As she strode through the forest of mirrors, her reflection shifted everywhere. In one she appeared short and fat, in another tall and impossibly thin. In another she stood upside down, and in yet another she walked sideways. It was enough to give her a headache. (com)

First, I would be remiss if I didn't point out the fact that Aelin links witches to the gift of Sight, just like in Midgard. Second, Yellowlegs’ caravan is unusual because its materials (the stones in the oven and wood in the walls) come from the ruins of the Crochan city. Combined with witch mirrors, it creates an otherworldly illusion that disorients Aelin and makes it difficult to escape Yellowlegs’ clutches.

Later, we learn from Manon that witch mirrors can be used to see, communicate, or amplify power:

“You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.” (eos)

She and Aelin even enter a witch mirror to view a memory, and like I’ve discussed before, this experience might mimic Elain’s murky realm.

Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but…a form nonetheless.

Manon’s teeth and nails glinted in the dim light as she surveyed the swirling gray mists. “What is this place?” The mirror had transported them to…wherever this was.

“Your guess is as good as mine, witch.” Had time stopped beyond the mists?

[…]

The eddying fog darkened, and Manon and Aelin stepped close together, back to back. Pure night swept around them—blinding them.

Then—a murky, dim light ahead. No, not ahead. Approaching them. Manon’s bony shoulder dug into her own as they pressed tighter together, an impenetrable wall.

But the light rippled and expanded, figures within it appearing. Solidifying.

Aelin knew three things as the light and color enveloped them and became tangible: They were not seen, or heard, or scented by those before them.

And this was the past. A thousand years ago, to be exact. (eos)

@offtorivendell and I suspect there may also be witch mirrors in Prythian:

“My sister had a collection of mirrors in her black castle,” the Carver said. We halted once more. “She admired herself day and night in those mirrors, gloating over her youth and beauty. There was one mirror—the Ouroboros, she called it. It was old even when we were young. A window to the world. All could be seen, all could be told through its dark surface. Keir possesses it—an heirloom of his household. Bring it to me. That is my price. The Ouroboros, and I am yours to wield. If you can find a way to free me.” A hateful smile. (acowar)

Stryga, which is awfully close to the word for witch (striga, strega, shtriga, etc.), used her mirrors to spy on the world. It’s possible that her black castle was Hewn City, a place of rotting darkness that is home to wicked heirlooms much like her extensive collection in the cottage. Are Stryga and her magical mirrors also somehow connected to Maeve and the Valg? And if her heirlooms are also Mor’s family heirlooms, does that mean they are distantly related to Stryga and the Valg, and therefore connected to witches? Wounds associated with the Valg are described as rotted darkness (tod), making me truly wonder about the Court of Nightmares and those who inhabit and rule it now.

In tog, Maeve—a dark queen and world-walker like Stryga—confirms that mirrors can be used to spy, travel, and kill. She says she taught the witches how to use their enchanted mirrors. If Stryga is connected to the Valg, did she see her outward beauty in the mirror, or the displeasing form beneath (to use Maeve’s own words), no matter how many beautiful maidens she hunted and devoured? Could that unpleasant form look like the Valg princess we see in tog?

Its true form…It was as horrific as she’d imagined.

Smoke swirled and coiled about it, revealing glimpses of gangly limbs and talons, mostly hairless gray, slick skin, and unnaturally large dark eyes that raged as she looked upon it. [...] It hissed, revealing pointed, fish-sharp teeth. Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will. (tod)

That would certainly drive someone like Stryga, who is obsessed with youth and beauty, insane. And it would make so much more sense that her true form–the rotted core of the Valg–would be capable of corrupting an enchanted mirror as scholars claim.

Save for the Weaver in the Wood—who certainly seemed insane enough, perhaps thanks to the mirror she’d so dearly loved. Or perhaps whatever evil lurked in her had tainted the mirror, too. Some of the philosophers had suggested as much, though they hadn’t known her name—only that a dark queen had once possessed it, cherished it. Spied on the world with it—and used it to hunt down beautiful young maidens to keep her eternally young. (acowar)

Much like Baba Yellowlegs, Stryga had a habit of devouring beautiful maidens and, once confined to the Middle, lured unsuspecting beings to her cottage. @offtorivendell has wondered if the Ouroboros will make a reappearance and if so, it might make the most sense in Elain’s story. It is interesting that Clotho helped Feyre find books on the Ouroboros and is the last known person in possession of Elain’s glass amulet. I do think this amulet could be connected to witch mirrors, even if only as a symbolic hint of things to come. The phrase secret, lovely beauty is repeated, suggesting a link—or sister-glass, if you will—between two females with hidden depths (more on this in The sense chanted and Groundings).

The Ancients

In addition to sharing information about witch mirrors, Manon confirms that some witches—like Baba Yellowlegs—have the gift of Sight.

Aelin murmured, “Nameless is my price.” Aedion opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what had snagged her interest, but Aelin frowned at Manon. “Can your kind see the future? See it as an oracle can?”

“Some,” Manon admitted. “The Bluebloods claim to.”

“Can other Clans?”

“They say that for the Ancients, past and present and future bleed together.” (eos)

The Blackbeak and Blueblood Matrons are also referred to as Ancients. Together, the Matrons represent the Three-Faced Goddess: Crone (Yellowlegs), Mother (Blackbeak), and Maiden (Blueblood). This goddess supposedly gave the witches their iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away.

Legend had it that all witches had been gifted by the Three-Faced Goddess with iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away. The iron crown, supposedly, was proof that the magic in the Blueblood line ran so strong that their leader needed more—needed iron and pain—to keep her tethered in this realm.

Nonsense. Especially when magic had been gone these past ten years. But Manon had heard rumors of the rituals the Bluebloods did in their forests and caves, rituals in which pain was the gateway to magic, to opening their senses. Oracles, mystics, zealots. (hof)

Nesta and Elain—who were Made in the Cauldron (which may be connected to the Three-Faced Goddess, as one of them is called Mother)—have iron mental gates. They also both wore iron bracelets and Elain has an iron engagement ring somewhere in her trove of jewelry. Elain, the obvious choice for the Maiden aspect, also wore a blue cloak during the witch accusation in Windhaven and seems to possess the most powerful Sight. Is it possible that time bleeds together in her murky realm like it does for the Ancients, and she might need even more iron, or something else, to remain tethered to Prythian?

“An Ancient,” Dorian mused, then murmured to Manon, “Baba Yellowlegs.”

They all turned to him. But Manon’s fingers brushed against her collarbone—where the necklace of Aelin’s scars from Yellowlegs still ringed her neck in stark white.

“This winter, she was at your castle,” Manon said to him. “Working as a fortune-teller.”

Manon stared the general down. “Yellowlegs was a fortune-teller—a powerful oracle. I bet she knew who the queen was the moment she saw her. And saw things she planned to sell to the highest bidder.” Dorian tried not to flinch at the memory. Aelin had butchered Yellowlegs when she’d threatened to sell his secrets. Aelin had never implied a threat against her own. Manon continued, “Yellowlegs wouldn’t have told the queen anything outright, only in veiled terms. So it’d drive the girl mad when she figured it out.” (eos)

Does Elain also know a person’s secrets on sight like Baba Yellowlegs? Is that why she was the only one who suspected Feyre’s pregnancy, and why she hasn’t yet met a character with a secret beneath her pretty face?

A Cauldron-blessed seer, could she even be the Eye of the Goddess incarnate, a divine guardian, as I suggested in Herbs she planted?

A large circle—and two overlapping circles, one atop the other, within its circumference. “That is the Three-Faced Goddess,” Manon said, her voice low. “We call this …” She drew a rough line in the centermost circle, in the eye-shaped space where they overlapped. “The Eye of the Goddess. Not Elena.” She circled the exterior again. “Crone,” she said of the outermost circumference. She circled the interior top circle: “Mother.” She circled the bottom: “Maiden.” She stabbed the eye inside: “And the heart of the Darkness within her.” It was Aelin’s turn to shake her head. The others didn’t so much as blink.

“That is an Ironteeth symbol. Blueblood prophets have it tattooed over their hearts. And those who won valor in battle, when we lived in the Wastes … they were once given those. To mark our glory—our being Goddess-blessed." (eos)

What if, like a Blueblood prophet, Elain is given a bargain tattoo of the Eye of the Goddess on her heart? (Please, Sarah.) Or perhaps its floral equivalent in Prythian: a layered rose that blooms with three colors when exposed to light, revealing the heart of Darkness within? A mark of the Goddess…

The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower—and then she came. […] I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron … It was a void. But also not a void—a growth. (acowar)

to complement the eye of the beast in her love interest’s siphon?

I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. (acomaf)

or her mate’s magical eye?

“This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others…can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” (acowar)

Only Time, or the wind, will tell what form the future might take.

Next: Song of the wind, or how Elain might travel like a witch.

Series: seer. wise woman. witch.

#witch elain #witchy elain #the ancients #witch mirrors #three-faced goddess #past present future #the eye of the goddess #crone mother maiden #witchy archeron sisters #acotar witches #tog witches #crescent city witches #maasverse witches #elain archeron

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