"They Call You Shadowsinger": Parallelism and the Power of Being Seen
Iâm currently doing a Crescent City re-read and am really enjoying spending time with this series at a slower and more deliberate pace. As a result, Iâm seeing threads between Crescent City and ACOTAR that I didnât fully notice upon earlier readings. I think this is in part due to the fact that I spent a great deal of time with ACOSF and its bonus chapters immediately before returning to Crescent City. Â
So, as Iâve just wrapped up HOEAB, thereâs one topic that keeps rolling around in my head: parallelism!
Hang with me for just a bit as I explain a little about what parallelism usually looks like--I promise this is going somewhere! Parallelism can be a literary device where parts of a sentence/paragraph/stanza have the same grammatical structure, intended to emphasize or draw attention to something in particular. When I teach parallelism in my high school literature classes, I often include it as part of a rhetoric unit because itâs not uncommon to see it combined with rhetorical devices such as antithesis or repetition--which are also meant to emphasize something in order to persuade or to draw attention towards a specific detail.Â
When I teach my rhetoric units to highlight the effect of using these devices, I usually use Disney songs since there is a general level of familiarity with them. For instance, when the Muses in Hercules sing the song âZero to Hero,â they say:
He was a no one
A zero, zero
Now heâs a honcho
Heâs a hero
Here was a kid with his act down pat
Zero to hero, in no time flat
Zero to hero, just like that!
Here, parallelism is achieved through repetition of the phrase "Zero to hero" and its variations, which emphasize Herculesâ dramatic transformation. This repetition, combined with antithesis to show opposite meaning, is meant to draw the audienceâs attention to the theme of personal growth for the storyâs protagonist. Â
So, we often see parallelism like this, used how it is in Disney songs, in notable speeches like MLKâs âI Have a Dreamâ speech, or in dramatic moments like Mark Antonyâs funeral speech in Julius Caesar. But it can also be used in literature through mirrored scenes. Instead of focusing on grammatical structure and patterns, it instead relies on parallel dialogue and imagery to highlight thematic connections or character development. Â
In my opinion, this is exactly what we see upon closer examination of HOEAB and ACOSF, where SJM crafts deeply intimate character moments in two separate scenes--belonging to two separate books and worlds. One scene occurs between Bryce and Hunt in HOEAB, and the other between Gwyn and Azriel in his ACOSF bonus chapter.
These scenes possess deliberate literary parallels between their pivotal moments along with what they reveal about identity, emotional intimacy, and the quiet beginnings of a relationship found through deep understanding. It's also worth noting that these two books were published a year apart, with HOEAB released first. I always found it interesting that SJM didn't release ACOSF after the ACOFAS novella--so it's worth considering why we were introduced to Bryce and Hunt first before jumping back to Prythian to meet Gwyn and get Azriel's first (and only) POV.
Again, this is part of the narrative framing in which Iâve previously written about, as my contention remains that this is all to serve the purpose of character development (the romantic pairing of Azriel and Gwyn) and narrative continuity (establishing ACOTAR5 as Azrielâs book). Â
I know that many readers have already made comparisons between Bryce/Gwyn and Hunt/Azriel. Iâm not sure what more I can add to that particular conversation. However, I do have some very specific thoughts regarding how parallelism is being used by SJM to further establish the runway being laid for Azrielâs book--as well as to continue spreading the seeds for the romantic pairing of Azriel and Gwyn. In these mirrored scenes, SJM uses parallelism to draw our attention to show how a single interaction can begin to redirect a protagonistsâ narrative.
Parallel Structure & Phrasing: HOEAB vs. ACOSF
The literary structure and phrasing of the two interactions in question are strikingly similar--enough so to discourage an argument of pure coincidence.
In the HOEAB scene, Bryce is sitting alone on a bench overlooking the Istros River with a box of chocolate croissants to commemorate Danikaâs birthday. Hunt soon flies in to join her, and they share an emotional scene where Bryce laments how everyone else seems to have moved on from Danikaâs death--yet, she cannot. Hunt then shares details about Shahar, her death, and how it has impacted him over the years. A realization then hits Bryce after Huntâs admissions:
She looked to the river. âI never realized it,â she murmured. âThat you and I are mirrors.â
He hadnât, either. But a voice floated back to him. You look how I feel every day, sheâd whispered when sheâd cleaned him up after Micahâs latest assignment. âIs it a bad thing?â
A half smile tugged at a corner of her mouth. âNo. No, it isnât."
âNo issue with the Umbra Mortis being your emotional twin?â
But her face grew serious again. âThatâs what they call you, but thatâs not who you are.â
âAnd who am I?â
âA pain in my ass.â Her smile was brighter than the setting sun on the river. He laughed, but she added, âYouâre my friend. Who watches trashy TV with me and puts up with my shit. Youâre the person I donât need to explain myself to--not when it matters. You see everything I am, and you donât run away from it.â
He smiled at her, let it convey everything that glowed inside him at her words. âI like that.â
We will be comparing this scene to Azrielâs bonus chapter from ACOSF, shortly after he arrives at the training ring and unexpectedly finds Gwyn. After Gwyn teases Azriel about needing his dagger to sleep and they exchange some pleasantries about celebrating Solstice, Gwyn has a surprising question for him:
She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. âDo you sing?â
He blinked. It wasnât every day that people took him by surprise, but . . . "Why do you ask?"
âThey call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?âÂ
âI am a shadowsinger--itâs not a title that someone just made up.â
She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. âDo you, though?â she pressed. âSing?âÂ
Azriel couldnât help his soft chuckle. âYes.âÂ
The parallel structure of these interactions is not by accident. For starters, both scenes are in the male POV, which gives the reader particular insight into their (albeit limited) perspectives. Additionally, both Bryce and Gwyn are alone as these scenes begin--they are interrupted by Hunt and Azriel flying in:
Hunt landed quietly before sliding onto the benchâs wooden planks, the box between them.
Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night . . .Â
Both Hunt and Azriel literally descend from the skies, landing quite near Bryce and Gwyn. In my opinion, this isnât just coincidence or logistical--this reflects a descent into emotional vulnerability. These are male characters known for their emotional detachment, and their flights into these scenes could symbolize a movement downward from their hard shells into more intimate emotional territory.
Additionally, there is deliberate phrasing in both these interactions which supports the literary parallels taking place. The male characters are both known by fearsome titles: Hunt is the âUmbra Mortisâ (or âShadow of Deathâ), and Azriel is the âShadowsinger.â These epithets reflect how the outside world perceives them--deadly and dangerous. Both males are warriors, assassins, and instruments of power used by others. Additionally, they bear the weight of countless deaths and trauma associated with their freedom being stripped away. Their identities are often defined by others. Â
Bryce and Gwyn then continue their conversations with Hunt and Azriel built around these monikers and identities.
After Bryce notes that she and Hunt are mirrors, Hunt says:
âNo issue with the Umbra Mortis being your emotional twin?â
But her face grew serious again. âThatâs what they call you, but thatâs not who you are.â
This line cuts to the heart of Huntâs struggle with being defined by the darkness of his past and his violent role in a broken system. Bryce, however, sees all of Hunt in this moment and does not hesitate to tell him. What follows is an emotionally intimate declaration:
âYouâre my friend . . . the person I donât need to explain myself toânot when it matters. You see everything I am, and you donât run away from it.â
Similarly, in Azrielâs ACOSF bonus chapter, Gwyn presses Azriel about his title:Â
âThey call you Shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?â
âI am a shadowsinger--itâs not a title that someone just made up.â
There is an intentional parallel in the exact phrasing here by using the words âthey call youâ--that is not an accident. SJM is relying on parallelism to do what it does in more typical contexts: to emphasize or draw our attention to these specific words. Both Azriel and Hunt are often viewed through the lens of the outside world, and we can begin to see how that might weigh on each of them.
Interestingly, Gwyn immediately shrugs off the reply, irreverently. Her casual dismissal of Azrielâs deadly title is a pivotal moment . . . very much so mirroring Bryceâs refusal to allow Hunt to be defined by his title. Gwyn is unafraid, unfazed, and unmoved by Azrielâs reputation. Like Bryce, Gwyn sees something more in the male before her.
Perhaps this is even why Gwyn proceeds to call Azriel âShadowsingerâ instead of by his name later in ACOSF--she is teasing him, almost as if to tell him: If you say this is what you are, then thatâs what Iâm going to call you. Â
And, in these two scenes, Hunt and Azriel are not left unaffected by these comments from Bryce and Gwyn. Hunt smiles at Bryce in response and âlet it convey everything that glowed inside him at her wordsâ--while the notably stoic Azriel âcouldnât help his soft chuckleâ when Gwyn continued to ask if he sings.
Hunt opens up to Bryce in a moment of shared grief as they discuss Danika and Shahar. Azriel, fresh from a painful confrontation with Rhys and his interaction with Elain, finds unexpected comfort in a late-night encounter with Gwyn. Yet both males, defined by death and duty, find themselves smiling and laughing--softened by these females who refuse to fear them. Â
Ultimately, in both scenes, the titles for Hunt and Azriel are named and then rejected. Bryce and Gwyn see past the labels to what lies beneath. This mirroring is a prime example of narrative parallelism and intertextual echoing. The same emotional arc is achieved through different characters across different textsâbut with identical purpose. Â
Glowing Hearts and Emotional Intimacy
Another example of parallelism cements the lasting, emotional importance of these interactions: the mirrored imagery of something glowing inside both Huntâs and Azrielâs chests. After Bryce tells Hunt who he really is, he let his smile âconvey everything that glowed inside him at her words.â Likewise, at the end of Azrielâs bonus chapter, after Clotho agrees to give the necklace to Gwyn anonymously, Azriel buries the imagined image of Gwynâs joy in his chest--where it âglowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.âÂ
The glow is not accidental; itâs symbolic of something dormant being awakened--compassion, hope, perhaps even the beginning feelings of something more romantic. These descriptions are not just parallel in phrasing; they symbolize something profound. Both Azriel and Hunt are males trained to bury everything--perhaps partly out of self-preservation. So, these glowing sensations are not fireworks or passionate explosions, but quiet illuminations--a spark of something soft and sacred awakening inside them. Maybe something they didnât know they still had the capacity for. It is the literary embodiment of intimacy, not lust.
These mirrored glowing moments also represent hope, potential, and the beginning of self-forgiveness. Notably, in both cases, the glow is inside of Hunt and Azriel. Both males are not ready to act on it yet, but they protect it. It is a seed planted in their hearts by Bryce and Gwyn who have started to become the safe harbors that Hunt and Azriel didnât realize they needed. Â
My favorite literary question to ask my students comes last, as usual: SO WHAT?Â
Why does this matter? Why would SJM intentionally echo such specific literary structure, phrasing, and emotional beats across two different texts and series?
Because she is building a broader thematic through-line across her multiverse by juxtaposing Bryce/Hunt against Gwyn/Azriel. These scenes are not throwaway moments--they are turning points. They suggest that Azriel, like Hunt, is on the cusp of transformation. The glow in the chest is symbolic of a soul rekindling itself, and the females who see these males are clearly not afraid.Â
I believe that Bryce is trying to flash a neon sign indicating the importance of this parallelism. She point blank says to Hunt: âI never realized it . . . That you and I are mirrors.â
Yes. They are mirrors--to Gwyn and Azriel, setting up crucial parallels in anticipation of their own story together.
And these parallels are more than just fun literary hijinks. Itâs not SJM just showing us how clever she is (although she is very clever). These are deliberate seeds of narrative intent. Despite some fandom theories to the contrary, Hunt and Bryceâs relationship is established by the end of HOFAS and they are thematically framed as equals (perhaps another post for another time). So, if we accept that these two scenes mirror each other in structure, tone, and function, then the bonus chapter between Azriel and Gwyn is not a throwaway interlude--it is a setup. Â
And so, while Gwyn presses Azriel with questions while shoulder-shrugging, and while Bryce gently corrects Hunt by calling out the person beneath the helmet, SJM shows us a paralleled pattern: that the power exists to choose who you are. To laugh again. To let something glow quietly in your chest and not extinguish it.
"They call you shadowsinger" becomes not a question of power, but of identity. And in that question--posed by a female who doesnât tremble in his presence--Azriel, like Hunt before him, begins the slow process of reclamation. Not of title. Not of duty. But of self.