#bright hand of the asteri

[whenwewereyoung97]

*HOFAS Spoilers up to Ch. 22*

There’s something seriously wrong with how hard I laughed at this.

Ruhn deserves better, but… COME ON.

#hofas #hofas spoilers #crescent city #crescent city 3 #sjm #sjmaas #ruhn danaan #hunt athalar #rigelus #bright hand of the asteri

[wingedblooms]

Heart of the Night Court

This meta is a continuation of theories in forbidden secrets, blooming dreams, and bright as the dawn, as it narrows in on Illyria, Ramiel, and their connection to Wyrd. Please avoid if you do not want to read hofas spoilers. 

Facing Ramiel

The northern region of the Night Court is where Ramiel, one of the three sacred sister peaks, is located. It is considered the heart of Illyria and the Night Court. 

Ramiel. The sacred mountain.  The heart of not only Illyria, but the entirety of the Night Court.  None were permitted on its barren, rocky slopes—save for the Illyrians, and only once a year at that. During the Blood Rite.  Cassian soared toward it, unable to resist Ramiel’s ancient summons. Different—the mountain was so different from the barren, terrible presence of the lone peak in the center of Prythian. Ramiel had always felt alive, somehow. Awake and watchful. (acofas) [...] Ramiel rose higher still, a shard of stone piercing the gray sky. Beautiful and lonely. Eternal and ageless. (acofas)

Cassian describes Ramiel as alive, awake, and watchful, and so very beautiful as she rises from the earth. Likewise, Feyre emphasizes that Elain is alive and somehow infinitely more beautiful as she rises from the ground after she is Made in the Cauldron. Her legs are even bare, which remind me of the barren terrain, and her sheer nightgown might even be a hint for thin places, as @offtorivendell observed. Elain’s strength has also always been different than her sisters, just like Ramiel among her sacred sister peaks.   

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water.  And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown.  Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare.  The queens pushed forward. Alive, she had to be alive, had to have wanted to live– Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer. And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me— Nesta began roaring again.  Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

As each spring dawns on the world, Ramiel is crowned with three stars, and the Illyrians—who we learned may have been the Asteri’s soldiers and therefore may carry on rituals that would have benefited them—honor bloodshed on her land rather than new life. 

No wonder that first ruler of the Night Court had made this his insignia. Along with the three stars that only appeared for a brief window each year, framing the uppermost peak of Ramiel like a crown. It was during that window when the Rite occurred. Which had come first: the insignia or the Rite, Cassian didn’t know. Had never really cared to find out.  The conifer forests and ravines that dotted the landscape flowing to Ramiel’s foot gleamed under the fresh snow. Empty and clean. No sign of the bloodshed that would occur come the start of spring. (acofas) 

Some even seem to take great pleasure in the killing that is permitted during this rite, and Ramiel, which we know is alive and watching, is forced to witness it every year. Azriel calls it a week of pointless bloodshed, but we know now that is likely untrue. @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell and I believe the Asteri may have created or warped an existing rite to suit their needs. @silverlinedeyes pointed out that this spring rite reminds her of the Great Rite, and that made something click for me: perhaps the Blood Rite is the Night Court's Great Rite. Is the secondlight from slain warriors absorbed by the land? And do those few who reach the stone, which I suspect might be the Maiden in this rite, provide firstlight to the cache hidden in Ramiel’s heart? Is it any wonder the winds around her howl, and her land is often frozen and inhospitable?

The mountain neared, mighty and endless, so wide that he might as well have been a mayfly in the wind. Cassian soared toward Ramiel’s southern face, rising high enough to catch a glimpse of the shining black stone jutting from its top.  Who had put that stone atop the peak, he didn’t know, either. Legend said it had existed before the Night Court formed, before the Illyrians migrated from the Myrmidons, before humans even walked the earth. Even with the fresh snow crusting Ramiel, none had touched the pillar of stone. (acofas)

The shining black stone on Ramiel’s face is able to heal and transport those who touch it. In acosf, it knew where Nesta’s friends were needed most and sent them to the River House. It is also on the southern face of the mountain, which in the northern hemisphere, is the part of the mountain that receives the most sunlight. Cassian tells us that he doesn’t know who put it there, but legend says it was before humans even walked the earth. While it is very likely that the Asteri warped it (into a tool to sustain them, like the gates in Lunathion as @merymoonbeam so cleverly pointed out), I believe it may have also originally been linked to the Cauldron. 

In hofas, we discover that Ramiel used to bear the Cauldron on her land:

“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) […] 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.” (hofas) 

I wonder if long ago, before the Asteri desecrated them, the stone and Cauldron together resembled this depiction of Wyrd: 

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)

This depiction is interesting because it mirrors, almost exactly, the figurine Nesta assumes is the Mother in the House of Wind: 

It was a fire. Not her father’s neck. 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.  Another log cracked, and Nesta flinched. But she remained sitting there. Staring at that carved rose. (acosf) 

For some reason, she needed to set Elain’s rose, half-hidden in shadow, next to this depiction of what appears to be Wyrd. In hosab, the Under-King also described Wyrd as a mother to all, which is why I theorized that she is actually a triple goddess: Mother, Cauldron, Fate. They are three parts, or faces, of the same force. The three sacred sister peaks and three blessed Archeron sisters are intentionally linked to her. Perhaps the moon in the female’s hands isn’t just a moon, but a world too. Immediately after this scene, the House of Wind shows Nesta her heart in the lovely darkness of the mountain, which she calls the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. 

Heart racing, Nesta lifted the lantern in one hand and gazed at the darkness, untouched by the light from the library high, high above. The heart of the world, of existence. Of self.  The heart of the House.  “This…” Her fingers tightened on the lantern. “This darkness is your heart.” [...] Let the darkness sweep in. Embraced it. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered into it. “You are my friend, and my home. Thank you for sharing this with me.” (acosf)

Nesta embraces the heart of the House of Wind, which naturally makes me recall the heart of the Prison asking Bryce to open her heart to it…it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. We’re not sure exactly how Avallen might have affected the Prison island, and I suspect there is more to come with that plot thread. While I had always hoped the Valkyries might re-establish themselves as an intercourt army in the Middle, which does not have ties to any court in particular, I can also appreciate the possibility that they might ultimately settle on the Prison island instead. It would be incredible to see Pegasi return and for the Valkyries to learn how to fly on them. 

This plot is related to the core thread driving us forward, and it is something that can occur in a book that is centered on Elain and Azriel. Together, they have the vision and gifts needed to map the secrets of the land, starting with the sacred sister peaks, which I believe will ultimately help them restore Wyrd. This would fit all of the seeds Sarah has planted for the third sister’s arc with Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen. It would also be powerful for a character who has been underestimated and ridiculed for gardening to heal the land and the very source that created it. 

As I said prior to hofas, this exploration will inevitably bring them to the very heart of Ramiel. As a bearer of Wyrd, the source of life, Ramiel may even be the heart of the world, not just the Night Court. Will they discover that she was once very different? Did she change, as her sisters did, when the Asteri burrowed into her heart? Or was it because the Cauldron, Wyrd’s physical form, was warped into a tool of destruction by the Asteri and later removed from her land? Were the Illyrians created to guard the Cauldron since it was the Asteri’s most precious weapon? And is that why, as @cassianfanclub wondered, the Asteri were so desperate to reach the stone at the top, where the Cauldron was once depicted? Enalius may have prevented it from falling into their hands as he defended the Pass, which would’ve been a critical turning point in a rebellion. Unlike the rite they currently use to honor him, Enalius’s defense was in the service of life, which is what made Nesta’s sacrifice so inspiring. Her sacrifice is now depicted in the heart of the Court of Dreams, which is dedicated to building a better world.

Descending into Ramiel

We learn that Ramiel may be hiding secrets from Eris, of all characters: 

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.” “We don’t know why they exist, but do you not find it strange that two out of the three have underground palaces carved into them?”  […]  Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.” “I thought Amarantha made the court Under the Mountain herself,” Nesta said.  “Oh, she decorated it and made us act like a sorry imitation of your Court of Nightmares, but the tunnels and halls were carved long before. By who, we don’t know.” (acosf)

He tells us that the three sacred peaks are sisters. Sacred is another word for blessed. And two out of three of them have been at least somewhat explored, but the third? Still mysterious. No one was curious enough to see what lied beneath her beautiful face, at her heart. This is such a lovely parallel for the three blessed sisters, and seems like a clear hint for the third one in particular. 

In hofas, we receive confirmation that these secrets might be connected to the Asteri, who are known as Daglan in Prythian lore: 

“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) 

-

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)

Bryce concludes, after Vesperus is able to draw the power from her secret cache below, that there is a firstlight core in the root, or heart, of the mountain. We see what happens in Avallen when the land is forced to contain magic where its ley lines overlap, rather than allowing it to flow as it should: it binds the magic of the land and causes it to wither like a plant with root rot. And that seems to explain why the sacred peaks are so odd: barren yet thrumming with power. 

I have theorized that the caches of power may need to be released leading up to the restoration of Wyrd, and I suspect there may be clues—especially within Ramiel—about how the Asteri warped and bound her to the land. If Elain is as tied to the land as we suspect, this could also strengthen whatever magic she possesses. 

In the cavern illustrations Bryce views in hofas, we see what might lie beneath Ramiel, maybe even the entire Night Court:

Scenes of a blessed land, a thriving civilization. One relief had been so similar to the frieze of the Fae male forging the sword at the Crescent City Ballet that Bryce had nearly gasped. The last carving before the river had been one of transition: a Fae King and Queen seated on thrones, a mountain—different from the one with the palace atop it—behind them with three stars rising above it. A different kingdom, then. Some ancient High Lord and Lady, Nesta had suggested before approaching the river.  She hadn’t commented on the lower half of the carving, which depicted a Helscape beneath their thrones, some kind of underworld. Humanoid figures writhed in pain amid what looked like icicles and snapping, scaly beasts—either past enemies conquered or an indication of what failure to bow to the rulers would bring upon the defiant.  The suffering stretched throughout, lingering even underneath that archipelago and its mountaintop palace. Even here, in paradise, death and evil remained. A common motif in Midgardian art, too, usually with the caption: Et in Avallen ego.  Even in Avallen, there am I. A whispered promise from Death. Another version of memento mori. A reminder that death was always, always waiting. Even in the blessed Fae isle of Avallen. (hofas) 

This might merely be a hint for the Asteri secrets that remain buried in the earth. But I agree with others (including @offtorivendell, @ladynightcourt3, @cassianfanclub, and @silverlinedeyes) who have wondered if this Helscape is in fact a hint that Prythian, and the Night Court in particular, is tied to Hel. We learned that the worlds in the Maasverse are tied together through ley lines, and the veil between worlds is thin where these ley lines overlap—like the lines in a star. 

That may be the true meaning of star symbols throughout the Maasverse, and the one specifically found in the Prison that is connected to the Starborn: as I theorized pre-hosab, it is a compass rose, and it seems to be linked to other places in the grander tapestry of the universe. There is power in the space where the lines meet; these lines represent ley lines. Certain people (Asteri, Starborn, etc.) are able to use that power to travel, communicate, or even light up entire worlds. Depending on how those lines are woven in certain areas, they might even be able to draw you to one place more than another. That may explain why the Prison seems more connected to Midgard. So, could Ramiel be more connected to Hel, and the Middle to…Erilea?

I wonder if Elain, Azriel, Nuala, and Cerridwen’s exploration in the heart of Ramiel might lead them to Wyrd’s Temple in Hel, except @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, and I think she goes by yet another name there: Chaos. It’s possible they could use black salt or another substance to achieve this, as @offtorivendell and @cassianfanclub have discussed, especially with Elain’s sight. I am personally hoping for a physical trip to Hel and Ramiel might possess a doorway, or rift, as @offtorivendell has theorized. 

The black boat that Aidas led Bryce and Hunt into was a cross between the one that had brought them into Avallen and the ones that carried bodies to the Bone Quarter. But in lieu of a stag’s head, it was a stag’s skull at the prow, greenish flame dancing in its eyes as it sailed through the cave. The eerie green light illuminated black rock carved into pillars and buildings, walkways and temples. Ancient. And empty. Bryce had never seen a place so void of life. So … still. Even the Bone Quarter had a sense of being lived in, albeit by the dead. But here, nothing stirred. […] “It’s like a city of the dead,” Hunt murmured, draping a wing around Bryce. Aidas turned from where he stood at the prow, holding in his hands a long pole that he’d used to guide them. “That’s because it is.” He gestured with a pale hand to the buildings and temples and avenues. “This is where our beloved dead come to rest, with all the comforts of life around them.” […] Before Aidas could answer, the boat approached a small quay leading to what appeared to be a temple. A figure emerged from between the pillars of the temple and descended its front steps. Golden-haired, golden-skinned. […] “The Temple of Chaos is a sacred place,” Apollion said sharply. “We shall never defile it with violence.” The words rumbled like thunder again.

This sounds familiar, doesn’t it? It sounds an awful lot like other beliefs in the Maasverse:

Bryce asked, because some small part of her had to know after what she’d seen of the Mask, “When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.  But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.” (hofas)

-

“We’ll collect the dead tomorrow,” Manon said, her voice low. “And burn them at moonrise.” As both Crochans and Ironteeth did. A full moon tomorrow—the Mother’s Womb. A good moon to be burned. To be returned to the Three-Faced Goddess, and reborn within that womb. (koa)

Wyrd (Chaos) is the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And that is where people rest in joy until they are reborn. Could this be where the spirits are migrating on Starfall?

We know the Princes of Hel are intergalactic helpers, so a trip to Hel or an encounter with a Prince (Bryaxis? Thanatos? Even Balthazar, if he isn’t Elain? 😉 still my favorite crack theory) might give us insight into their role in Prythian. It could also involve Azriel’s peculiar magic that makes him, like Ramiel, so different from even his Illyrian brothers. Let's be honest, he’s always had a Prince of Hel vibe—down to his reverence for Wyrd (Mother, Cauldron, Fate/Chaos)—that I would love to see come to fruition. 

Beyond Azriel himself, I also think we will learn the origins of the Illyrians in the heart of Ramiel. Were they connected to Hel before the Asteri made them their soldiers, like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell theorized? Or were they an experiment like the blessed sisters? Did the Asteri put humans (hence the ears) into the Cauldron after it was imbued with their void magic and create beings of night and pain who could combat enemies, including demons? This might be another reason why the three most powerful Illyrians are a match in power for the three blessed sisters. 

Together, they balance opposing forces as @silverlinedeyes previously theorized. They seem to represent the forces of Void and Chaos, and their power can be combined in the space between to achieve impossible feats (eg, physically healing the Cauldron and the rip in the world). All three sisters seem to be chosen bearers, or conduits, for Wyrd (Chaos), so I wouldn’t be surprised if we see another example of this in a different way for Azriel and Elain, and/or a scene where they are all linked magically.  

My lips tugged toward a smile. But Rhys stared at all of us, somehow assembled here in the sun-drenched open grasses without being given the order. Our family—our court. The Court of Dreams.  […] He surveyed them all again—and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other hand for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together. (acowar)

Since Ramiel is connected to Wyrd (Chaos), and there may be a doorway to her temple in Hel, this journey will likely also uncover secrets about her. Will her story come from illustrations in stone, members of Hel, or…my personal favorite, Wyrd herself? I believe that is one of the many reasons she gifted Elain with such powers, including sight: so she could tell her story to someone who could see differently. Someone who could see the creator within the darkness, just as Elain saw the dark cottage as a shelter rather than a prison. This gift may provide them the information they need to uncover the Asteri’s secrets and unravel their magic from the sacred peaks and Wyrd, which could lead them to at least two other places: (1) Midgard, where the Book of Breathings is now kept by Bryce, and (2) Cretea, where the Cauldron is currently hidden. Could Azriel even pay back Bryce for stealing his precious dagger? It would only be fitting. 

Ramiel Springs Eternal 

I was so cold I might never be warm again. Even during winter in the mortal realm, I’d managed to find some kernel of heat, but after nearly emptying my cache of magic that afternoon, even roaring heart fire couldn’t thaw the chill around my bones. Did spring ever come to this blasted place? (acomaf)

Illyria is known for being bitterly cold, to the point where Feyre wonders if spring would ever arrive there. Sarah has consistently described Elain as blooming life amid death and winter, and this imagery starts to become really apparent in Illyria: 

Mor let out a snort that made the Illyrians stiffen. But she shifted, revealing Elain behind her. Elain was just blinking, wide-eyed, at the camp. The army.  Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon…She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. (acowar) 

Compared to Nesta, a newly forged sword, Elain is a blooming flower even in an Illyrian army camp, which is essentially saying she is a bloom of life and color in the middle of winter. This imagery is so fitting because she commits her time to creating and restoring gardens wherever she goes. She brings life and joy and beauty into the world. Even her scent is a promise of spring: 

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. (acosf)

We also know she is also capable of hearing sound, specifically hearts, through stone. In their conversation about heartbeats, Lucien even wonders if she is speaking to him: 

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.”  Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. “No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. (acowar)

Was Elain actually speaking to one of the sister peaks, or even Wyrd, during some of this conversation? Her response to Lucien even seems to echo the song of the land: no one had ever truly looked, not really. No one knew what secrets they carried in their heart. This is such a lonely existence. As Elain and Azriel heal the land, I believe they will also heal their own wounds. Feel seen and heard. Understood. 

Elain was also wearing a blue cloak in the Illyrian camp. Could that be a hint of her future work with others who wear something similar, like the priestesses who worship Wyrd? She answered her sister’s prayer during the war rather than Wyrd and has led her own sister in prayer before. Is she more priestess—more healer—than warrior, and is that the different sort of strength needed to garden on a larger scale? @willowmeres and I were discussing this the other night: perhaps like Gwydion and TT (which I theorized singing to each other across space), Elain’s rose necklace was called to the library when the priestesses were singing about Wyrd. And because like calls to like, the necklace answered and drew Azriel to the library instead of the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Like her sisters before her, Elain might receive help from priestesses as she hones her vision and gifts. I would scream if this turns out to be true because that necklace is pure Chaos (pun definitely intended).

It’s also possible the priestesses could be helpful in unbinding Void from the Book of Breathings, a book of spells. I doubt this will be a simple matter, however. It might rival the unraveling of Erawan, which required massive raw healing magic. Will the Asteri’s void magic manifest on another plane as Elain battles it with raw healing magic, shining bright as the dawn? Could a dawn ritual help ground her during this battle? And will Azriel, the sisters, the brothers, even priestesses with their healing stones, need to create a living chain to defeat Void and fully restore Wyrd (Chaos) in the end? Will we finally get a glimpse of her, unbound? 

Maybe with the help of Azriel and others, Elain will even restore Wyrd—blossoming life—to Ramiel’s sunniest face, the heart of the world, of existence. Of self. And true spring will finally come to her sacred land.

#ramiel #the third sacred sister peak #mysterious as the third blessed sister #healing the land and Wyrd #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel #wyrd #mother cauldron fate #a temple in Hel #nuala and cerridwen #archeron sisters #illyrian brothers #court of dreams #priestesses

[the-dark-artifices-trees]

The importance of the number 7 in crescent city

Throughout the entirety of the crescent city series, the number 7 plays a huge role in both a symbolic and a literal way

⚠️ House of Flame and Shadow spoilers ⚠️

7 Asteri on Midgard

Rigelus (title- The Bright Hand)

Eosporos (title- The Morning Star)

Hesperus (title- The Evening Star)

Polaris (title- The North Star)

Octartis (title- The Southern Star)

Austrus (title- unknown)

Sirius (title- The Wolf Star)

7 Princes of Hel/ Circles of Hel

Hunt also mentions that “Type-Seven is only for the princes themselves, and given what this thing can do, I’d bet it’d be deemed a Six” in chapter 29 of HOEAB, when talking about the demons and princes of Hel

7 districts in crescent city/ city heads/ gates

7 “Made” objects *

Mask (made by Cauldron)

Crown (made by Cauldron)

Harp (made by Cauldron)

Horn (made by Cauldron)

Starsword (made by Cauldron)

Truth-Teller (made by Cauldron)

Ataraxia (made by Nesta)

*now while nesta did make another sword and dagger, we don’t know if they possess any magic and they don’t have any names either*

7 members of the Pack of Devils

Danika Fendyr (alpha)

Connor Holstrom (second)

Nathalie (third)

Bronson

Thorne

Zach

Zelda

7 courts in prythian

Night Court

Dawn Court

Day Court

Spring Court

Summer Court

Winter Court

Autumn Court

7 tog books (not including novella)

Throne of Glass

Crown of Midnight

Heir of Fire

Queen of Shadows

Empire of Storms

Tower of Dawn

Kingdom of Ash

Known starborn fae *

Fionn

Theia

Pelias

Helena

Silene

Bryce Quinlan

Ruhn Danaan

*The term Starborn describes the descendants of High King Fionn and High Queen Theia.

1. Also when bryce traded places so Danika would get into the Bone quarter, she said the vow (“I wish to trade my place.”) 7 times:

“She’d tossed a Death Mark into the Istros, payment to the Under-King—a coin of pure iron from an ancient, long-gone kingdom across the sea. Passage for a mortal on a boat.

And then she’d knelt on the crumbling stone steps, the river mere feet behind her, the arches of the bone gates above her, and waited.

The Under-King, veiled in black and silent as death, had appeared moments later.

It has been an age since a mortal dared set foot on my isle.

The voice had been old and young, male and female, kind and full of hatred. She’d never heard anything so hideous—and beckoning.

I wish to trade my place. (1)

I know why you are here, Bryce Quinlan. Whose passage you seek to barter. An amused pause. Do you not wish to one day dwell here among the honored dead? Your balance remains skewed toward acceptance—continue on your path, and you shall be welcomed when your time comes.

I wish to trade my place. For Danika Fendyr. (2)

Do this and know that no other Quiet Realms of Midgard shall be open to you. Not the Bone Quarter, not the Catacombs of the Eternal City, not the Summer Isles of the north. None, Bryce Quinlan. To barter your resting place here is to barter your place everywhere.

I wish to trade my place. (3)

You are young, and you are weighed with grief. Consider that your life may seem long, but it is a mere flutter of eternity.

I wish to trade my place. (4)

Are you so certain Danika Fendyr will be denied welcome? Have you so little faith in her actions and deeds that you must make this bargain?

I wish to trade my place. She’d sobbed the words. (5)

There is no undoing this.

I wish to trade my place. (6)

Then say it, Bryce Quinlan, and let the trade be done. Say it a seventh and final time, and let the gods and the dead and all those between hear your vow. Say it, and it shall be done.

She hadn’t hesitated, knowing this was the ancient rite. She’d looked it up in the gallery archives. Had stolen the Death Mark from there, too. It had been given to Jesiba by the Under-King himself, the sorceress had told her, when she’d sworn fealty to the House of Flame and Shadow.

I wish to trade my place. (7)

And so it had been done.”

- HOEAB, chapter 62

2. Hunt was in the Asteri dungeon’s for 7 years

“How long did they do that to you—after Mount Hermon?”

“Seven years.”

She closed her eyes as the weight of those words rippled through her.

Hunt said, “I lost track of time, too. The Asteri dungeons are so far beneath the earth, so lightless, that days are years and years are days and … When they let me out, I went right to the Archangel Ramuel. My first … handler. He continued the pattern for two years, got bored with it, and realized that I’d be more useful dispatching demons and doing his bidding than rotting away in his torture chambers.”

“Burning Solas, Hunt,” she whispered.” -HOEAB, chapter 35

“We need to get out of here,” Ruhn said, and nothing had ever sounded more stupid. Of course they needed to get out of here. For so many fucking reasons.

But Athalar cracked open an eye. Met his stare. Pain and rage and determination shone there, unbroken despite the halo and slave brand on his wrist. “Then talk to your … person.” Girlfriend, the angel didn’t say.

Ruhn ground his teeth, and his ravaged mouth gave a burst of pain. He’d rather die here than beg the Hind for help. “Another way.”

“I was in these dungeons … for seven years,” Hunt said. “No way out. Especially not with Pollux so invested in ripping us apart.” -HOFAS, Chapter 11

3. Apollion (7th prince of Hel) ate the Sirius (7th Asteri)

“No one would dare say his name, not after the Prince of the Pit became the first and only being to ever kill an Asteri. His butchering of the seventh holy star—Sirius, the Wolf Star—during the First Wars remained a favorite ballad around war-camp fires. And what he’d done to Sirius after slaying her had earned him that awful title: Star-Eater” -HOEAB, chapter 51

4. The slave tattoos has seven stars in it

“For there was also no hiding the second tattoo, stamped on their right wrists: SPQM.

It adorned every flag and letterhead of the Republic—the four letters encircled with seven stars—and adorned the wrist of every being owned by it.” -HOEAB, Chapter 6

“Ruhn spied their own solar system in the center of it all. Seven planets around a massive star. Seven Asteri—technically six now—to rule Midgard. Seven Princes of Hel to challenge them.

Seven Gates in this city through which Hel had tried to invade this spring.

Seven and seven and seven and seven—always that holy number. Always—” -HOSAB, Chapter 25

5. 7 is a holy number

“Seven—the holy number. Or unholy, depending on who was worshipping. Seven Asteri, seven hills in their Eternal City, seven neighborhoods and seven Gates in Crescent City; seven planets, and seven circles in Hel, with seven princes who ruled them, each darker than the last” - HOEAB, Chapter 19

“Micah had left the latter’s body up. Justinian would hang there for seven full days and then be pulled off the crucifix—and dumped into the Istros” -HOEAB, Chapter 69

6. Hypaxia and necromancy

“So this is it?” Ithan asked Hypaxia, gesturing with a hand to the seven candles she’d arranged on the ground. “Light the candles and wait?” -HOSAB, Chapter 61

“It took Hypaxia seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds to raise Sigrid.

Ithan barely moved from his stool the entire time Hypaxia stood over the corpse and chanted. Jesiba left, came back with her laptop, and worked for some of the time. She even offered Ithan some food, which he refused.

He had no appetite. If this didn’t work …” -HOFAS, Chapter 48

7. Sailings happen on the 7th day after the death

Don’t come to the Sailing tomorrow. You’re not welcome there.

She’d listened to it over and over, the first words to echo in her silent head.

Her mother hadn’t woken from the bed beside hers when Bryce had exited the hotel room on Fae-soft feet, taking the service elevator and leaving through the unwatched alley door. She hadn’t left that room for six days, just sat staring vacantly at the floral hotel wallpaper. And now, with the seventh dawning … Only for this would she leave. Would she remember how to move her body, how to speak.” -HOEAB, Chapter 7

8. Midgard geography

““Seven—the holy number. Or unholy, depending on who was worshipping. Seven Asteri, seven hills in their Eternal City, seven neighborhoods and seven Gates in Crescent City; seven planets, and seven circles in Hel, with seven princes who ruled them, each darker than the last.” -HOEAB, chapter 18

“Bryce didn’t wait for them before trailing the old male up the walkway as the seven planets aligned themselves perfectly, stars glittering in the far reaches of the room.” -HOSAB, chapter 38

“Bryce halted after a turn in the stairs and assessed the long hallway ahead. When it revealed no guards, she stepped into it.

There were no doors. Only this hall, perhaps seventy feet long and fifteen feet wide. Likely fourteen feet, to be a multiple of seven. The holy number.” -HOSAB, Chapter 71

“She’d studied Fury’s rough map of the palace layout. This area was seven levels below the throne room, where the Asteri sat on crystal thrones” -HOSAB, chapter 71

“They could fly no further. The massive black wall stretched for miles in either direction before curving northward, with wards protecting the airspace above it. Hunt knew from maps that the area the wall encircled was forty-nine miles in diameter—seven times seven, the holiest of numbers—and that at its center, somewhere in the barren, snow-blasted terrain, lay the Northern Rift, shrouded in mist. Barriers upon barriers protected Midgard from the Rift, and Hel beyond it.” -HOFAS, Chapter 70

9. Ithan & the number 7

“Sabine stared down at the seven shards the Fendyr sword had broken into, then lifted her furious gaze to Ithan.

Ithan shifted back into his humanoid body with a near-instant flash. “It’s just a piece of steel,” he said, panting, the metallic tang of the blade lingering in his mouth. “All those years you obsessed over it, resented Danika for having it … It’s just a piece of metal. - HOFAS, Chapter 74

“You have seven minutes” -HOFAS, Chapter 81 (when Ithan was talking to Connor)

#crescent city #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #lunathion #Bryce Quinlan #hunt athalar #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #the Asteri #princes of hel #7 #Ithan holstrom #acotar #feyre archeron #lidia x ruhn #Bryce x hunt #feyre x rhysand #nesta archeron #azriel #acomaf #acosf #acofas #throne of glass #sjm #Sarah j Maas #hypaxia enador #fae #aelin ashryver galathynius

[merymoonbeam]

Roses? Bread?

In Hosab Azriel carried Bryce to a house and we had this scene.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.

We know it is town house. Here is the post that explains it. > Town House

And from Acosf we know that it was supposed to be empty.

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

But from bryce’s pov we can see that it looks like somebody is living there.

So let’s talk about why “Roses? Bread?” is about Elain.

We are first going to talk about the town house-elain connection to it.

When feyre first arrived at town house she always mentioned the garden.

“Nuala and Cerridwen opened a door, leading to a fire-warmed, sunlit room. It faced a walled, winter-kissed garden in the back of the town house, the large windows peering over the sleeping stone fountain in its center, drained for the season.”

“Nuala headed for the small attached bathing room—white marble, a claw-foot tub, more sunny windows that overlooked the garden wall and the thick line of cypress trees that stood watch behind it.”

“I took in the clothes, then the room, then the winter garden and the slumbering fountain beyond, and Rhysand’s earlier words clicked into place.”

“A city—a lovely one, if the sounds from my window, the garden beyond it, were any indication—lay all around me.”

And that chapter is the first time Elain’s name mentioned in acomaf—the same chapter Feyre arrived at the Town House. It is about how Elain wanted to go to cities on the continent because they were “full of art, and learning and trade”

“There were no cities left in our mortal territory. Though some had sprung up on the main continent, full of art and learning and trade. Elain had once wanted to go with me. I didn’t suppose I’d ever get that chance now.”

Elain wanted to go to cities on the main continent—full of art and learning and trade.

Let’s look at Velaris.

We all know Velaris is known for artists’ quarters—Rainbow of Velaris.

“Rhys said, “This is what Velaris is known for: the artists’ quarter. You’ll find a hundred galleries, supply stores, potters’ compounds, sculpture gardens, and anything in between. They call it the Rainbow of Velaris. The performing artists—the musicians, the dancers, the actors—dwell on that hill right across the Sidra. You see the bit of gold glinting near the top? That’s one of the main theaters. There are five notable ones in the city, but that’s the most famous. And then there are the smaller theaters, and the amphitheater on the sea cliffs … ” He trailed off as he noticed my gaze drifting back to the assortment of bright buildings ahead.”

And there is also trade in Velaris.

“The owner—a slim, dark-skinned female with lovely brown eyes—was standing behind my chair, chatting with Rhys about the latest shipment of spices that had come to the Palaces. “The traders were saying the prices might rise, High Lord, especially if rumors about Hybern awakening are correct.”

“There was a time when the Night Court was a Court of Nightmares and was ruled from the Hewn City. Long ago. But an ancient High Lord had a different vision, and rather than allowing the world to see his territory vulnerable at a time of change, he sealed the borders and staged a coup, eliminating the worst of the courtiers and predators, building Velaris for the dreamers, establishing trade and peace.”

Lastly learning. It is a new city for her—new world. Full of new information. Feyre is learning new things while they are walking on the streets. (I will add to this later in the post... keep your eyes on it 👀👀)

“Rhysand kept a few steps away, hands in his pockets as he offered bits of information every now and then.”

So was it a coincidence that Elain’s name’s first mention in acomaf is in that chapter and it is about how she wants to go to continent because it is full of art, trade and learning... and Velaris has all those things 👀

And let’s not forget...in acosf Nesta said this.

“Elain, mourn as she might for the life she would have had with Graysen, had found a place, a role here. 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.”

Okay turning back to town house gardens...

A chapter after feyre notices the garden in the Town House she thought this.

“Buttery sunlight that softened the already mild winter day, a small, manicured front lawn—its dried grass near-white—bordered with a waist-high wrought iron fence and empty flower beds, all leading toward a clean street of pale cobblestones.”

Town houses flower beds are empty. Nobody is tending the gardens. But... in acowar we have this.

Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. 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. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.”

Elain planted herbs in the garden. She started to tend the garden of Town House.

Also when she first arrives at the Town House Azriel literally carrying her bridal style into the house. And they go to garden.

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”

Is this a foreshadowing for them? Is Elain living there and Azriel carrying her bridal style is foreshadowing of what’s to come? 👀

Okay, now that’s explained we continue with the “Roses? Bread?” part.

Elain’s always been connected with rose.

I slung off my outer clothes onto the sagging dresser—frowning at the violets and roses I’d painted around the knobs of Elain’s drawer,(Acotar)

“I started on the third. “I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises. And for Nesta … ” The arrow clattered to the ground and I ripped out the other end.” (Acomaf)

“Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses.” (Acowar)

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers. (Acosf)

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

And the bread part.

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.” 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.”

We all know how elain was after Cauldron. She was lifeless. But this is the first time we see her enjoying herself. She is making bread with Nuala and Cerridwen.

But I think the important part is the last part “She was hungry. She was … doing something. Learning something.” She is learning something... also I think it is important to add that sarah wrote learning in “learning something” in italics 👀

and when I was talking about Elain and Town house connection above I talked about how Elain’s name’s first mention in acomaf is when Feyre arrived at the Town House and it was about how she wanted to go to continent because the cities were “full of art and learning and trade.” As you can see Elain is learning something. She is learning how to bake bread.

“Breathed in the smell of the bread Nuala and Cerridwen had baked that morning with Elain.”(acowar)

“Elain straightened from the piping-hot loaves of bread she’d hauled from the oven, her hair half up, the apron over her rose-pink gown dusted with flour.”

in the second quote it is used for color but she is literally wearing a rose-pink gown while hauling bread from the oven...

Sooo...

Roses? Bread? ANYONE? 🌹🍞

#elriel #elain archeron #roses bread #roses?bread? #town house

[heyovivi]

[SPOILERS] HOFAS Part 1

Read Along with No Context

Okay is Cormac alive? Because Ruhn is describing these shadows that watch him and Cormac is the only one in this universe who has Shadowsinger-like abilities.

Never mind.

—

Sooo Azriel just be playing hide n seek

—

“Give me one reason not to bury this knife in your spine.” 😍😍😍 Azzy baby

—

DID NESTA JUST REANIMATE ALL THE BONES IN THE CAVE TO DEFEAT THE WORM💀

—

“You’re dead to me.” 🥲

—

So Azriel’s siphons focus his powers to make weapons…can he make weapons of bondage 👀

—

Not Azriel being afraid of a flash light 😂

—

“He wanted many things with her. A normal, happy life. Children.”🥲

HUNT IS KILLING ME WITH HIS DREAMS OF THE FUTURE

—

Theia: I wonder what the home I built and fought a war over will be like in the years to come…😌

Rhys: welcome to the Prison where we keep the deadliest bastards around 😀

—

Wait is Azriel star born?

—

So we don’t like Theia?

—

lol if Azriel is star born I bet his mom may know something about it

So I’m thinking he’s probably not related to Silène but Helena— because I think the words only protect or welcome members of Silene’s lineage

But then, again, the blades are supposed to have specific abilities. And if Azriel has just been using truth teller as a regular dagger, maybe he isn’t starborn, because only starborn people can tap into those abilities. So in the hands of Ruhn or Rhys it would be very different.

Then again it would explain why he also has shadowsinging abilities

—

Ighhhh my ship is going down 🥲🥲🥲

But they also didn’t have much to start with

—

is it Ethan of Eye-than

—

BOOOOFJFHDHDHRHR. IS WOLF MYSTIC DEAD FUCKS FUCKS FUCKS I HATE THIS I HATE UOU SJM AGGGG

IM IN PAIN

I think my wolf baby has just gone through too much, he deserves a little happiness, even if it is from a bossy and bitchy wolf

I’m just assuming…does killing an alpha make you an alpha??

—

I’m not saying that what Theia did was right, but I feel like it could be argued that using multiple troves at the same time probably messed with her mentality… like, look at what the mask did to Nesta, just the mask, it made her kind of like a puppet to its whims. I can’t even imagine what all the troves put together can do to one person.

So…High Ladies did exist

—

I think this goes to show that Rhys should definitely not be high king and he should not be able to have power over multiple troves. I know in pass books he kind of has this cool exterior, but I feel like going into this book and knowing the spoilers ahead, he is kind of going down this path of insanity. I’m not saying that he’s going to go full on insane, but the worries he has for his court and family added with the need to protect them can lead down a similar path of that of Theia.

—

Bryce can be really…troublesome

I’m kindve got annoyed but I understand her distrust

But like girl—you just hear from your ancestor that she locked up monsters of all kinds there and your bright idea was to shake the place and wake them up 🧐

—

Also idky but I think…Jesiba is Helena

—

Ngl but I was hoping for Nesta to use her signature move to kill the Asteri

Nvm she did

So I guess Nesta is also a Starslayer

—

Holy shit she took Azriel’s Security Blanket

#houseofflameandshadow #crescentcity #cc hofas #crescent city 3 #cc3 #cc3 spoilers #hofas spoilers #bryce quinlan #Azriel #nestaarcheron

[rigelus]

ONE.

Synposis: You're not sure if you want to light the fires that will see the world burn, or put out the fires, either way, you're doing both. After a secret meeting with Rigelus of the Asteri and his charming--yet deadly proposition--to join him in the Eternal city and rain down hellfire on all who have wronged you, you decide to accept what should be a suicide mission. Only it isn't, and as you walk into the Eternal City and away from the five men who love you the most in the whole world, you cannot hope to ever see them again... unless you're not as burned up as you thought you were. Unless you burn bright, as a double agent.

chapter one (you are here) / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten

the light of stars is an explicit (i cannot emphasize this enough.) reverse harem (kinda) sjm crossover x reader fic. there are some inconsistencies, which i am in the process of fixing!

You climb the ten flights of stairs in a hurry, the city of Velaris was on high alert, an unknown entity had passed the wards this morning. You puff out one final breath as your steel-toed boots hit the cage flooring of the perch you’d carefully created over the past few days. You’d known it was an impossible job, and likely a suicide mission. He’d given it to you anyway, as if to say goodbye and put some respect back in your official file, even if it was nothing other than an honorable death. Coming and going from this point was not easy, and you knew this was a risk, a risk that balanced much more than just your skin and honor. You knew it was too much to ask for this to go off with out a hitch.

You say a prayer to the mother, though you know she has forsaken you. You set up the rifle, the rebellion’s message would be clear—magic has to work with humans—but you weren’t sure you even believed in that message any more. The Asteri had come to you and Rigelus himself,  had begged nearly on bended knee for your allegiance. But nothing was clear any more… especially not after the memories that the band of rebels you’ve been supporting for five long years of your life have such a choke hold on you, that you’d offer them this, but maybe not.

Not with his whiskey slick lips still imprinted on your memory.

Not with the sound of his beast roaring as he fucked you.

Not with the way his blue-frost bright eyes looked into yours as if they saw the truth of your treachery.

Not with the way he teased and tasted every square inch of you, begged and pleaded for one more round.

And not with his jewel bright eyes, like stars glistening in the dawn light as you all finally collapsed sated and spent, but happy. So, so, fucking happy you couldn’t deny the laugh that fell from your lips.

But as the memories receded and the truth of your mission returns, you remember this is as much for them as it is for everyone else who has suffered under the asteri. Under the False Gods. Under the Valg. The names have changed but the orders remained the same. Kill them, trap them—do whatever necessary.

You crouch down, load one shot into the magazine of the long range rifle. You steady your breathing and look down the barrel of the gun, through the scope. One shot, one kill, and firing any more would only give away your position. Surprise was your ally in this dangerous mission.

Rhysand is down there, kissing hands and shaking babies—you hated him. Hated what he had done to your sister. A mere child in the spring court. Feyre and Rhysand had taken away the spring court’s leader and replaced him with a broken man, a long time ago, who would not withstand the tests of leadership.

No. You wouldn’t stand for it.

You resettled your heartbeat and breathing. Once your heart rate is nearly dangerously low by the magic in your veins, you pull the trigger between one heartbeat and the next.

You don’t stick around to see if your shot rang true. The crowd is screaming and the Inner Circle will be sending out their hounds for you.

You scramble to pack up, and you pick up your spent shell, just like he taught you.

But someone else’s hand catches your wrist.

“Going so soon, my darling girl?”

You wrench your wrist from his grasp. He hasn’t changed one iota from last night, when he’d said he’d rather die than see you again. That the failed the marriage bargain was too much to forgive. That his impulsivity would ruin you both. You hate him, and your body language shows it.

You damn near gun butt every last one of his perfect teeth out of his stupid head.

After all, Tamlin Springer may have been a lot of things, but smart was usually not one of them. Strong, brave and terribly fast with a gun or knife—yes, definitely. He could usually outmatch even you.

You take off running, leaving him, one of the leaders of the rebellion against the high fae, and a high fae himself, a high lord no less—in possession of the weapon that just murdered one of the high lords of pythian, and high king too.

As you run, among the throngs of people, you realize as time slows down, that he could be dying, Feyre would kill him, in fire and brimstone. With her unearthly high fae powers, that bordered on asteri magic. You can’t let him go, just as none of the others in this strange tangle of bodies can let you go.

You shudder and begin to fight the maze of bodies, which has quickly become a mud slide. You wade through the neck deep, fast flowing sludge to get back to him. Your service pistol is the only thing on you. You’re not ready to lose him, not ready to stop loving him, even if that marriage contract burns like a hot coal in the back of your mind. The previous night’s passion, and talk of the future without war, without classes, without high and low fae—just fae—plays in your mind like a haunting melody.

It feels like you will never get there, but when you put your foot on the landing and see Feyre Archeron, cauldron blessed and the most self righteous bitch you’d ever had the misfortune of meeting—about to slap a hand wreathed in fire to Tamlin’s cheek—you cannot stand for it.

So you pump the entire six rounds in the magazine from your service pistol into the bitch’s head for threatening the only thing you’ve ever even pretended to love.

You wonder if Fenrys, Ruhn and Dorian, and especially Azriel will roast you alive for this at camp.

Or if they’ll just fuck you senseless.

Either way, you’ll take the heat.

#crescent city x reader #azriel x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin #azriel shadowsinger #fenrys moonbeam #dorian havilliard x reader #dorian havilliard #ruhn danaan #ruhn x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #hosab #i wasn't kidding when i said i love villains :) #*mywriting #*mypost #anti acotar #i said fUCK canon.

[talesfromtheasterism]

Profile: The Rite of Stars

The Rite of Stars (or the Festival of Stars, the Festival of Lights, or simply the Lights) is an Asteri winter festival where all four realms illuminate the dark months with string lights, candles and lanterns to bring the revered starlight of the night sky to their home on the ground. While the Asteri realms' years are enigmatically synchronised with each other, the festivities were developed independently by the isolated human cultures prior to the Awakening. Each has additional, complex observances to the Rite, but lighting candles in public spaces after dark is universal.

In the Lucid Weave, it becomes customary in winter to carry a lantern of loomstone, a chrysolite-like crystal that glows the same bright yellow as the Skyloom's radiance that replaces sunlight in the realm. Some of this radiance accumulates as loomstone deposits on the edges of the islands during its transit through the star-ocean, and it is perilously mined for use in the Rite and other cultural practices. The lightweight material is encased in a lantern (or simply threaded with a handle, for the budget-conscious Lucida) and worn, carried, or displayed on homes after loomdusk as a corporeal homage of the Starweaver's powers of creation. At the conclusion of winter, the gradually dimming loomstones are symbolically thrown back into the star-seas (or the River of Lights, for many within the Mirror Capital), where they quickly dissolve and resume their circuit as part of the grand architecture of the celestial superstructure.

Perhaps the most unusual celebration of the Rite is in the Flooding Sands, where it is regimented around the Eclipse Months. During the winter of the Sands' 'planet', which is a moon of a low-density gas giant, its path through the sky begins regularly overlapping with the sun's, creating regular midday eclipses of up to an hour's totality near the solstice. To combat this darkness, the entirety of the Floodlands is lavishly decked in warm, phosphoric alchemical string lights, turning both the long nights and dark intervals into a cozy luminescence. The eclipses are a Pandora-sanctified rest period, a sort of anti-siesta, where Floodlanders often retreat into homes or restaurants to eat, nap, or keep warm during the temperature drop. The Rite of Stars lasts through the Eclipse Months and the following Feast of the Night Monsoon.

The Commune of Whispers makes no official observance of the Rite of Stars, due to their abject terror towards provoking the inscrutible forces of the Void Diffuse. But this is a far cry from practices in the outland city of Journey, where it is a grand fiesta of defiant vibrance. Despite having no conventional year cycle (or sun), when 'winter' arrives as tracked by chronometers, the sections of the Void's pale grey sand surrounding Journey are brushed with elaborate patterns of glowing, technicolour paint and pigment. The luminous collective mural spreads outwards from the city borders and in sporadic pockets beyond, as though to challenge the forces of the Void against irrepressible human spirit. Its strange machinations oblige; within a few days of each mural's painting, they have faded and vanished, only to be repainted in short order. The Rite lasts as long as the Journeyers can be bothered to repeatedly laugh in the Mourning Ones' faces. Mural patches sometimes crop up in the Commune, and are rarely reported by outlands scouts, though they quickly vanish - one by the irate hands of man, and the other by parties unknown.

During the harsh, smoke-dimmed winters of the Ash Wastes, the Ashen have repurposed the Rite of Stars as a sombre display of hope. Even without human intervention, the normally dark and blackened Wastes are brightened in winter by a layer of ice and snow, though it appears a gloomy grey in the low light. Throughout all the principal cities and settlements, commonly-treaded regions of the Outer Wastes, and even a few encampments in the Ring of Fire, immense light rigs and floodlights are erected, pointed at the ground to illuminate as much snow as possible for as long as it lies. Its high reflectance, and the rare unification of the warring factions in the floodlights' placement, means the whole of the populated Ash Wastes seems to glow a bright white against the ravaged world beyond, as a symbol of life and endurance; that human civilisation in the Wastes marches on, and always shall. The floodlights are expensive to power, but the Ashen place great value on morale as they rage against the bleakness of the world.

All attempts to bring Christmas to the Asterism have failed. They just love their lights over there.

#creative writing #fantasy #fantasy world #stars #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #fantasy worldbuilding #worldbuilding #writing #asterism #tales from the asterism

[mercarimari]

"Things you said when we were safe."

Quinlar

This already gives me feelings.

A/N- So ummm this has been collecting dust in my inbox for-fucking-ever. But it's here now. And I think I'm going to slowly work on cleaning out my requests to give myself some purpose until I get myself re-employed. Side note: I made myself cry writing this. ENJOY. Bryce remembered it as if it had just happened. It was before Sofie. Before the Bone Quarter. Before the truth about the Asteri. Before she'd dove through a portal to gods knew where, and left everyone and everything she knew and loved behind.

The night was bright with stars, her own light seemed to sing to them. Just as theirs sang to her... And Hunt, stood beside her on the rooftop looking down at the city below. People moved without a care in the world, and for five minutes everything was at peace. They were at peace.

"Really, Quinlan?" He asked, smirk on his lips, brow raised. "Yes, really." She answered, "We have all the time in the world, I think we can both wait a little longer. We should take it slow, go through the motions." "Live for the experience?" He added with a chuckle. The sound had gone right through her. Had filled her with warmth, her light flared from her chest at the sound of it, and she'd tried to cover it with her hands to stifle it. "Exactly. We don't have anything to worry about anymore. You're free, and we can just--- I don't know... Be?" She rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. Calm. At peace. They were okay. He was alive. The halo was gone, he was free to do what he wanted, be who he wanted. Be with who he wanted. And she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. Which was part of why she insisted that they wait. Get to know each other before they brought sex into the equation. Now a part of her wished they could go back. Go back to that moment, say fuck it to waiting. Because she'd have given anything for more time.

"That sounds good." He said, he pulled her against him with an arm around her waist as they both looked to the sky. He turned and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "That sounds really, fucking good." "Bryce?" She'd hoped that when she came back to the present maybe she'd be at home. Maybe she'd be on the rooftop with Hunt, and maybe everything wouldn't be so broken. Instead she was in Velaris, a place made for someone like her with a star in her heart. But one she wanted nothing to do with. She lifted her hands to wipe at her eyes. It didn't matter. She'd find a way back. She had to. "You miss your home." Elain Archeron said, with a sweet but sad smile. "I miss my life. I miss my mate. I miss my annoying pain in the ass brother, and his friends. I want to go home." Saying it out loud didn't do shit but make her feel worse. "I understand that." She didn't offer any further elaboration. "Come on, dinners ready. And Feyre said she has something of an idea."

#quinlar #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #elain archeron #hosab #post hosab #pre hosab #sjm fandom #fanfic #answered asks

[yazthebookish]

I'm wondering what's the ACOTAR or TOG equivalent of Thunderbirds.

Hunt's main element is lightning but Thunderbirds don't only can electrocute their enemies, they absorb firstlights and harness them.

Firstlights and secondlights are basically the same in a way and they're raw unfiltered magic in the form of undiluted pure light.

But as they did, a mighty white light soared beneath the surface. It wrapped its long arms around the nearest Omega.

Energy of any type was hers to command, to suck into herself. Her kind had been hunted to extinction by the Asteri centuries ago because of that mighty, unconquerable gift—or so it had seemed.

Closer now, the light swept beneath the surface for the third boat, and even with the distance, Pippa could see the core of long, bright white tendrils streaming from it—like wings.

But the white light slammed into the Omega, miles’ worth of firstlight sending the final ship spiraling into a watery abyss.

The Asteri fed on firstlight. The Asteri … needed firstlight. She looked at her feet, where light flowed in veins through the crystal before funneling into the pipes. The quartz.

All the Drops people made, the secondlight the dead handed over … All the power of the people of Midgard, the power the people gave them … it was gobbled up by the Asteri and used against its citizens. To control them.

Danika was very intrigued by Sofie and her powers. But Sofie, you see, had a theory, too. About energy. What her thunderbird gifts sensed while using firstlight.

If we think in terms of characters from all the series, the only character we know of that has raw magic is Dorian Havilliard. But Dorian's magic can harness different elemental magic, I'm not sure if he can absorb firstlights/secondlight like Sofie.

It's almost as if Thunderbirds are the most powerful beings and the biggest threat to the Asteri. I'm pretty sure there is more we will learn about them in future books because there are some mysteries surrounding their origins and powers.

#hosab #hosab spoilers #cc3 #thunderbird

[luxmaeastra]

The Soul Forge still burned bright. It's furnaces never ceasing, its armory always stocked and ready.

Lumas wasn't sure who ruled this, or who had made it. The notes on this were more scant than what had been on Reshaye.

But it was old, older than the Asteri, the Valg and maybe even the Slaugh. Someone had to have taught them how to light their forages.

Lumas has scarcely come to the gates for them to open. One of Them stood waiting for them. His shoulders relaxed, he remembered this one.

"You still live?"

"By the will of the Holy Fire yes. Welcome back Lumas. Have you gotten bored of peace?"

Lumas snorted and followed the other inside.

"You think I caused this instability? No. The witches are proving more of a rot than we anticipated. Have the others made it here yet Andominus?"

Andominus grinned and shrugged.

"You know I cannot tell you. You will see for yourself when the wars begin and the sky runs red with blood."

"You mean rains with blood?"

Andominus stopped and looked to him, his stare unnerving.

"No."

--------

Lumas laid the blades out before Viren, Sarai and Silba. He grinned and held out a smaller box to his mate.

"I comissioned this specifically for you my heart."

Viren looked out over the weapons, they gleamed newly polished. He hesitantly picked one up gasping at how light it was, he felt it slowly mold to his form.

"What did they want in return Lumas?"

Lumas looked from the daggers and arrows he was sorting. He rose an eyebrow at his son-in-law.

"It is called the Soul Forge Viren. What did you think they asked for? One for each of the things I asked made. Oh, give these to your parents. I am not sure if Ilyios and Nyktos had a chance to go."

He pointed to a smaller pile. Viren shut his eyes trying to think past the dizzying nausea.

"You always did think of me." Silba smiled as she took the smaller box. Spoiled and loved, it was how she felt when he did things like this. Always thinking of her, always going out of his way she sometimes she felt as if she did not give him the same back.

She didn't deserve him. Yet, she would fight to keep him by her side. This world they were about to enter was one she knew all those years ago, it was one she had grown up and she was about to face once more.

Sarai reached for the blade before her, the was a sense of familiarity when she held it in her hands. Much like her spear, one she hadn't needed to wield for a while.

The Soul Forge, she remembered Hellas telling her stories about it. She had never really gone there, by the time she was old enough she had already been tucked away in Cassandra's court. The weaponry she did have had always been gifts from her parents.

Nausea. She wasn't feeling nauseous, her attention snapped towards Viren before she reached out and gripped hold of his arm. "Are you okay?"

#Muse | Silba #Muse | Sarai

[siderealxmelody]

It was different to Hewn, the City of Ghezen was so much more than Hewn could ever be. More in so many ways, more in things that she didn’t even understand at that point. Hewn was lawless in the way that Ghezen wasn’t, yet Ghezen was freer in ways that Hewn wasn’t. An unwritten code, an understanding it seemed. Fergus was right when he had told her she had much to learn, to understand when it came to his own people, but she wasn’t shy from trying.

Would her younger self been shocked at the things she was getting herself into now? Yes, as a teenager, she had toyed with the Changelings with Hewn and had her fun, but this was different. There was a buzz within the air that she couldn’t ignore, yet she knew she had to as they made their way through the streets.

Raelyn maintained her pace with his own, trailing just behind him a little unless he told her different. She wasn’t entirely sure what the etiquette was for them, where she stood and how they would react. She was an Asteri in their eye she was sure, one who was travelling with one of their own kind who held a prince rank. Then there was the fact that they were mates, but they had yet to be mated.

Her attention was drawn away from her intrusive thoughts, the endless spiral she found herself in when she was out of her depth. Music filled her senses, as well as a sound of merriment – or maybe it was a brawl? It was hard to tell with all the yelling and laughter, but the atmosphere was electric.

“What is going on over there?”

--------

Nox gripped her arm tugging her back from the frey. He let her go and gave her a small smile. His gray eyes were warm as he took her in.

"I assume you're new. Raelyn right? Fer told me all about you couldn't stop gushing about you actually. I'm -"

"Nox!"

Fergus straightened, Killian having run off into a drain pipe howling. His eyes bright, alive. He ran to him pulling Nox into a tight hug. He stepped back and gestured at Nox.

"Nox is the one who explained Asteri cultures to me."

Nox beamed and gave a little bow. He looked to Raelyn slidding his hands into his pockets.

"How are you finding Ghezen so far Raelyn?"

Fergus was watching the festivities and them. He seemed content to just let Raelyn hold the conversation.

Nox decided it was best to point out for obvious before she asked.

"My family have lived here for generations. Being shunned and "dark Asteri" as they all call us."

He used air quotes and rolled his eyes.

"Ghezen is a lot but you'll get used to it I'm sure."

"Oh! Nox did you find your mate yet? Tell her why we don't mind you here either."

Fergus twisted to look at him. Nox gave a sour frown and shrugged. Before his posture relaxed.

"One, no. And thanks for flaunting your pretty mate in my face Fergus. And two, we're good muscle and can calm things down if we're allowed to."

His sarcastic drawl stopped as he looked to Raelyn again. He ignored Fergus grin beside her. Of course the bastard was enjoying this.

Prick.

"I tried to do that once when I was 15 after some Changeling wouldn't leave me alone. I nearly got killed before Fergus dragged me away. It was...harrowing."

#hes not as awake as Hesperus was 🫤 #luxmaeastra

[miss-jaffacake]

I am writing a novel. Here are the first couple pages of the first draft.

Be nice to my overly flowery writing please, I have an adjective addiction TwT

Most people walked to their houses, maybe rode a carriage for an extra touch of luxury. Of course, Beatrice Batling, the witch of Fiddlegreen, could hardly be considered "most people", and prided herself on her dramatic entrances, so she appeared at the door of her little wooden shack in a puff of shimmering mist. Much more fitting for an extraordinary witch like herself, for she was no ordinary magician; indeed, Beatrice was the witch, the pesmenos asteri, the Enchanteeress of her era sent by the Lunaria to restore magic to the world.

She opened the door with a wave of her hand, and stepped into her workroom.

Well.

The term "workroom" hardly did such a marvelous spectacle justice. An enormous, gleaming cauldron stood proudly in the centre of the room, the floorboards beneath it supporting its weight only by the spell that Beatrice had cast on them. Innumerable bottles, jars, pots and boxes lined the shelves below the windows, each filled with a substance more strange and delightful than the next: fairy dust, dragon scales, crystals in every colour imaginable, leaves, feathers, bright green honeycomb, animal skulls, moss samples, and hundreds of bottles filled with assorted liquids, including a funny pink one that bubbled loudly labelled "Hiccup Water".

Plant pots hung from the ceiling, their vines draping the floor and filling the shack with an earthy smell. Beatrice batted them irritably out of her way, as if she hadn't planted them there in the first place, and made her way to the opposite wall, determinedly ignoring her reflection in the ornate golden mirror. She swept past the massive bookshelf, crammed edge to edge with worn, leather bound tomes with intriguing titles such as "The Magichal Guide to Magich", "Spells of the Olde", "The Beasts of Every Which Realm", "Potions: A brewery Book", and many more with strange letters inscribed on their spines.

Wedged in the corner between the bookshelf and the wall was a pile of cleaning supplies at which Beatrice shot a steely glare.

"Well?" she demanded. "Didn't I say I wanted this place spotless by my arrival?"

An oblivious observer would most likely be at a loss to the whole display, and perhaps concerned about the woman's sanity. That is, until the broom began to tremble. And the rags squirmed guiltily. And the duster ruffled its feathers indignantly at the humiliating treatment. They all jumped out of the corner and began to sweep, polish and dust, while Beatrice strode around the room from one shelf to another. She pointed absentmindedly at a bottle of liquid that would have looked suspiciously ordinary if it didn't change colour every few seconds, and it sprang up from the counter and danced in mid-air behind her. It was soon followed by a jar of moss, a golden box with a rusted lock and a cinnamon biscuit which she plucked out of the air and chewed on as she carefully added the ingredients to the cauldron. In went a clump of moss, a sprinkling of salt and a miniscule drop of honey from the green honey comb.

A glossy black cat leapt into the room from an open window and sat primly on top of the bookshelf, watching Beatrice muttering under her breath over the cauldron.

"Should be enough, any bigger a batch and I'd need one of my infinite bottles."

"A smidge more rainwater... Yes, that's definitely better."

"A bit of saege"- she tossed in a handful-" that should do it."

"Edward, you accursed creature! Don't swat the nectar like that!"

The last remark she screeched at the cat, who threw her a disdainful, green-eyed glare before leaping out of the room.

"Good riddance!" She snapped, inspecting a jar of blue paste for any damage.

"My last jar of blue nectar, and he tosses it to the ground like it doesn't take bloody weeks to harvest! Insolent creature!"

#writing #writing wip #wip stuff #fantasy writing #original work #writeblr

[manon-and-the-thirteen]

****HOSAB SPOILERS****

Theory Time!

Y’all, I’m severely worried about the last line in Hunt’s story in chapter 77, and I haven’t seen anyone talking about it, so here goes:

“Then Hunt knew nothing at all.” (pg. 791)

The line suggests he was knocked out upon receiving the halo. What worries me is that I initially read it as Hunt having his memory wiped.

Is this possible?

Think about it this way: the last time he got the halo placed on him, it was done by crones, as mentioned by Rigelus.

“‘I don’t think I need one of the crones this time,’ the Bright Hand said.” (pg. 790)

This time, he’s getting the halo done by an Asteri, who are considerably powerful. They probably can wipe/block his memories if they wanted to. Hunt even thinks the following as his control is ceded to the halo:

“Just as his own life, his freedom, his future with Bryce… Gone.” (pg. 791).

Hunt’s memory wasn’t erased last time because they wanted him to remember betraying the Asteri with Shahar so that he would suffer more in his punishment. They wanted Hunt to suffer in serving the Asteri he rebelled against.

This time, the one they mean to cause suffering to is Bryce, who would return to find her mate doesn’t know her and has been turned into what he hated most: a willing tool for the Asteri.

It’s also likely that the crones that put his halo on the first time simply didn’t have the power to wipe/block memories like the Asteri might have.

What do y’all think? Was Hunt’s mind wiped in this moment?

#hosab spoilers #cc hosab #hosab #sjm #sjm spoilers #sjm fandom #crescent city #house of sky and breath #house of earth and bone #sarah j maas #hunt athalar

[pandalandalopalis]

SO I FUCKING REALIZED SOMETHING

spoilers for the last chapter of HOSAB under the cut (and if you havent read it yet, probably dont look at the tags)

okay if other people have already realized this then that’s great, i just finished the book so im still reeling right now lmao

so the bright hand of the asteri (cant remember his fucking name right now) said that the shifters were once fae and that the “regular” fae in their world and the shifters came from two different worlds. obviously we know that the “regular” fae came from Prythian, cause he said that they came from a small island and also oh yeah we got proof of that in the last chapter

BUT he said that the shifters descended from fae who could all shift into animal forms. and i first i didnt clue in but then--

THE SHIFTERS ARE DESCENDANTS FROM THE FAE IN THRONE OF GLASS. a lot of fae in TOG are known for having animal forms. SO WE’RE PROBABLY GONNA GET A LINK TO TOG IN THE FUTURE!!!

anyway sorry if this was obvious, but omg im still reeling

#crescent city #hosab #house of sky and breath #acotar #tog #throne of glass #sjmverse #sjm #sarah j maas #panda posts

[spaceshipkat]

He couldn’t get used to walking around without a pit in his stomach as he wondered what horrors the day would bring. Being in charge of himself, his future … The Asteri could take it all away again, if they wished. Had only let him live because he and Bryce were too public to kill—the Asteri wanted them to lie low forever. And if they didn’t … Well, Rigelus had been very clear on his call to Bryce months ago: the Bright Hand of the Asteri would kill everyone Bryce and Hunt cared about if they stepped out of line. So lying low it would be.

Katniss, is that you?!?!?!

#anti sjm #anti hosab #myth and kat read hosab #spoilers

[coeurvrai]

They were now mostly used to make announcements, ranging from the opening and closing times at the tourist sites to the occasional recording of an imperial announcement from Rigelus himself. Hunt hated those the most. This is Rigelus, Bright Hand of the Asteri. We honor the fallen dead in beautiful Lunathion, and thank those who fought for their service.

And we watch all of them like hawks, Hunt always thought when he heard the droning voice that disguised the ancient being within the teenage Fae body.

Is this a typo or something?

Why the hell is one of the Asteri - let alone the most powerful Asteri, as he’s been pointed out to lead them again and again - taking the form of a teenage Fae??? Like literally why???

WHY DO ALL ROADS LET BACK TO THE FAE, SARAH JANET, EVEN FOR THE MOST POWERFUL BEINGS IN THIS PARTICULAR UNIVERSE???

#sarah reads hosab #sarah reads cc #anti sjm #anti ccity #anti hosab #crescent city spoilers #NOT EVERYONE WANTS TO BE THE GODDAMN FAE SARAH JANET