#conduits

Demon of Empire City // Banner Man [Miscellaneous Proxies]

Artist Credit: Sucker Punch Productions

The Space Between

The space between is a place of connection and balance where opposing forces meet. We see this concept surface in all three series. And it is particularly associated with the sacred trio—Mother, Cauldron, and Fate—which seems to be synonymous with Urd in Midgard and Wyrd (perhaps even the Goddess) in Erilea.

Prythian

Mother, Cauldron, Forces That Be (or Fate, as Rhysand says in ACOWAR; these seem to be interchangeable) that are part of existing fae beliefs and worshipped by priestesses. Services occur at dawn and dusk, which are liminal times where day and night meet.

We honor the Mother, and the Cauldron, and the Forces That Be. We have a service at dawn and at dusk, and on every holy day.

Midgard

Urd, a force, vat of life (vat is a container, like a bowl, which is how the Suriel describes the Cauldron), mother to all, secret language. The goddess, who may not really be a goddess, is part of the old beliefs of the Fae. It winds between worlds and takes many forms.

I thought the Fae bowed to Luna, but perhaps you remember the old beliefs? From a time when Urd was not a goddess but a force, winding between worlds? When she was a vat of life, a mother to all, a secret language of the universe? The Fae worshipped her then.

Erilea

Wyrd, a force that governs and forms all life, fate. Once part of an ancient religion and secret language forgotten long ago. There are gates that allow travel between worlds. Sometimes used in the same breath as the Goddess (who, according to priestesses, is called the Goddess and her gods, and we later learn that the gods are individuals within one consciousness, who can change their form).

Some books claim the Wyrd is the force that holds together and governs Erilea—and not just Erilea! Countless other worlds, too.” [….] “I’ve heard of it before,” he said, picking up his book. But his eyes remained fixed on her face. “I always thought the Wyrd was an old term for Fate—or Destiny.”

“A Wyrdmark,” the princess replied, giving it a name in Celaena’s own language. […] “They’re a part of an ancient religion that died long ago.” […] “You should leave it alone,” Nehemia said sharply, and Celaena blinked. “Such things were forgotten for a reason.”

She prayed to the Goddess, to every god she knew, to the Wyrd, to whatever was responsible for her fate, that she wouldn’t have to use it.

The Wyrd governs and forms the foundation of this world. Not just Erilea, but all life. […] There are gates—black areas in the Wyrd that allow for life to pass between the worlds. There are Wyrdgates that lead to Erilea. All sorts of beings have come through them over the eons.

The High Priestess walked onto the stone platform and raised her hands above her head. The folds of her midnight-blue gossamer robe fell around her, and her white hair was long and unbound. An eight-pointed star was tattooed upon her brow in a shade of blue that matched her gown, its sharp lines extending to her hairline. “Welcome all, and may the blessings of the Goddess and all her gods be upon you.” Her voice echoed across the chamber to reach even those in the back.

Sarah likely drew inspiration for this sacred trio from Norse mythology: völva, which is another name for wise woman, seer, or witch, use seidr to exert influence over Wyrd (Fate). Seidr is a type of magic that is strongly associated with household duties, such as weaving, and often involves spá (prophecy) and galdr (song/spell). It is also connected to gods and shapeshifting. As I have said before, it is likely no coincidence that Elain was so curious about the weaver’s creation of Void and Hope, and whether or not Amren was able to change her body in ACOFAS. It also makes sense that this sacred trio is connected to witches and priestesses across series, and explains why they will be important in Elain’s journey as a powerful seer.

The parallels don’t end there. Due to the nature of the sacred trio, it is connected to beings and symbols that bridge time and space across all three series.

Prythian

In his cell, the Carver—who is ancient—draws three interwoven circles in his cell as he tells Feyre the history of his family. He calls Koschei and Stryga death-gods who delighted in this world and were feared and worshipped by the fae thousands of years ago, similar to the gods in Erilea. It isn’t until ACOSF, however, that we start to notice a mysterious being—which is assumed to be the Mother—help Nesta. It is unclear, however, how gods are created. Are they all Made, and therefore part of the consciousness of the sacred trio? Nesta herself was described as a death-god with her Cauldron-blessed powers. So, is this mysterious presence a god or a powerful fae who has been gifted god-like powers (which might include speaking to beings across worlds and guiding them when needed)? Or did a god or two escape their fate in the hell-realm they were forced into and find refuge in Prythian? Nesta felt the need to place Elain’s rose next to a figurine of what she suspects is the Mother herself, and it is balanced in a liminal space, half-hidden in the shadows. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

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.

In the bonus scene that occurs after this chapter, Elain is then gifted a delicate rose amulet with hidden layers that glows with three colors: red, pink, white. Like the amulet itself, she is briefly gilded by faelight and glows like the dawn. I suspect this is a hint for her hidden Cauldron-blessed powers, which may be similar to the higher beings who can change form and navigate the in-between to guide others. Is that what the Cauldron meant when it gave her such powers?

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 colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. […] The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white.

Elain and the Cauldron seem to be connected, as both are described as blooming flowers:

The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower—and then she came.

She was a rose bloom in a mud field. […] If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta … she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood.

Her amulet is also made of stained glass, which naturally reminds me of the hidden witch mirror in the Eye of Elena, or Eye of the Goddess, as Manon later corrects. Witch mirrors, as we’ll see, can be used for various purposes—including navigating the in-between for secrets or holding power. It is interesting that this amulet finds its way to Clotho, a High Priestess of a religious order that still worships the sacred trio and has services where seven priestesses weave songs together like spells, under strange and mysterious circumstances.

Midgard

Bryce is given a delicate, golden amulet with three layers of circles. It is is called an Archesian amulet, which is eerily similar to the surname Archeron. Jesiba Roga, who gave this amulet to Bryce, goes by a name that is similar to Jezibaba, which is another name for Baba Yaga, Baba Roga, etc. And she just so happens to be hiding the remains of an ancient library, which was guarded by priestesses who are connected to the amulets (@silverlinedeyes has an amazing theory related to this). Is it possible that these priestesses are connected to witches and priestesses in other worlds, like Baba Yellowlegs, an Ancient with witch mirrors and knowledge of the sacred trio? Or High Priestess Oleanna, who used the Cauldron to create powerful objects that defeated the Daglan thousands of years ago? Was Oleanna’s role, like Elena in Erilea, forgotten for a reason? And will Elain, like Aelin, need to uncover her past for answers? (Bonus if there’s an ancestral connection, too.)

Bryce zipped a tiny golden pendant—a knot of three entwined circles—along the delicate chain around her neck. […] Bryce’s daily armor consisted solely of this: an Archesian amulet barely the size of her thumbnail, gifted by Jesiba on the first day of work.

“Says the female with the Archesian amulet around her neck. The amulet of the priestesses who once served and guarded Parthos. I think you know what’s here—that you spend your days in the midst of all that remains of the library after most of it burned at Vanir hands fifteen thousand years ago.”

Symbols like the amulets and stars represent balance. As we learn from Hypaxia—the Witch Queen in CC—there is power in the union of opposites, and specifically in the space where they meet and merge.

“A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.” Her face became grave. “It is in that place of balance where I’ll focus my power.”

Roses are also connected to liminal spaces—light and dark, goddesses, dreams, spirits, and travel—in all three series. But perhaps it’s not so strange when you consider their association with secrecy, divinity, and psychic powers.

He caught her, and sighed. She could have sworn he sounded … exasperated. 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.

Erilea

In Erilea, Aelin meets her ancestor, Elena, in a dream after navigating secret passageways. She is drawn to a portal that smells warm and pleasant, like roses.

Celaena dreamt. She was walking down the long, secret passage again. She didn’t have a candle, nor did she have a string to lead her. She chose the portal on the right, for the other two were dank and unwelcoming, and this one seemed to be warm and pleasant. And the smell—it wasn’t the smell of mildew, but of roses. The passage twisted and wound, and Celaena found herself descending a narrow set of stairs. For some reason she couldn’t name, she avoided brushing against the stone. The staircase swooped down, winding on and on, and she followed the rose scent whenever another door or arch appeared.

The rose scent is connected to her ancestor, Elena, who descends from a goddess and uses the in-between to give Aelin a delicate amulet that has three layers of circles that forms an eye and has hidden depths of its own.

She expected to find a dark, forgotten room, but this was something far different. A shaft of moonlight shot through a small hole in the ceiling, falling upon the face of a beautiful marble statue lying upon a stone slab. No—not a statue. A sarcophagus. It was a tomb. Trees were carved into the stone ceiling, and they stretched above the sleeping female figure. A second sarcophagus had been placed beside the woman, depicting a man. Why was the woman’s face bathed in moonlight and the man’s in darkness?

In her hand lay a coin-size gold amulet on a delicate chain. She fought against the urge to scream. Made of intricate bands of metal, within the round border of the amulet lay two overlapping circles, one on top of the other. In the space that they shared was a small blue gem that gave the center of the amulet the appearance of an eye. A line ran straight through the entire thing. It was beautiful, and strange, and—

The phantom breeze flowed through her room, smelling of roses.

Elena goes on to protect Aelin with her golden light, which no doubt comes from her mother—the Lady of Light—who glows like the dawn.

And from another world, Elena swept down, cloaked in golden light. The ancient queen’s hair glittered like a shooting star as she plummeted into Erilea.

We find out after the fact that Nehemiah opened a portal with Wyrdmarks, which might be the secret language the Under-King mentioned. Elena is able to use the In-Between to help:

But the queen was both in and not in this world. She was in the In-Between, where she could not fully cross over, nor could the creatures that you saw. It takes an enormous amount of power to open a true portal to let something through—and even then, the portal will close after a moment.

Elena’s role was forgotten for a specific reason. We see Elain disappearing from the battle narrative already, but that might relate more to her powers. Is she bound to be known as the Seer more broadly, like the Shadowsinger, and others who are closely connected to the sacred trio? Those who have the power of sight, in particular, are solely known by their power—oracle or mystic. Is she willing others to forget for an important reason we will discover in the future? Whatever the reason, her presence and actions seem to be hidden intentionally.

“There are many things history has forgotten about me.” Elena’s blue eyes glowed with sorrow and anger. “I fought on the battlefields during the demon wars against Erawan—at Gavin’s side. That’s how we fell in love. But your legends portray me as a damsel who waited in a tower with a magic necklace that would help the heroic prince.”

Because I was sleeping—a long, endless sleep—and I was awoken by a voice. And the voice didn’t belong to one person, but to many. Some whispering, some screaming, some not even aware that they were crying out.

Like Elain’s amulet, the Eye of the Goddess (Eye of Elena) has hidden depths: it is a witch mirror that contains power.

A large circle—and two overlapping circles, one atop the other, within its circumference. “That is the Three-Faced Goddess,” Manon said, her voice low. “We call this …” She drew a rough line in the centermost circle, in the eye-shaped space where they overlapped. “The Eye of the Goddess. Not Elena.” She circled the exterior again. “Crone,” she said of the outermost circumference. She circled the interior top circle: “Mother.” She circled the bottom: “Maiden.” She stabbed the eye inside: “And the heart of the Darkness within her. […] That is an Ironteeth symbol. Blueblood prophets have it tattooed over their hearts. And those who won valor in battle, when we lived in the Wastes … they were once given those. To mark our glory—our being Goddess-blessed.”

Witch mirrors are incredibly powerful and they play a critical role in the TOG series.

The marking of the Eye of Elena. A witch symbol. […] It was Manon who answered, glancing sidelong at the grim-faced queen, “It’s a witch mirror.” […] “You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.”

A different witch glass allows Aelin and Manon to discover what happened in the past and what must be done to fix it. They get a glimpse of the higher beings that have watched over and influenced their world:

They had no forms. They were only figments of light and shadow, wind and rain, song and memory. Each individual, and yet a part of one majority, one consciousness. […] Not just gods, but beings of a higher, different existence. For whom time was fluid, and bodies were things to be shifted and molded. Who could exist in multiple places, spread themselves wide like nets being thrown.

These parallels seem too precise to be coincidental: a sacred trio, amulets, secrets, roses, gods, priestesses, and witches all bridging the space between. It is likely, then, that we will see another symbol of balance: a bridge of power between two characters.

Conduits and Carranam

In HOSAB, Hunt and Bryce are encouraged to explore the similarities between their powers and train together:

“Both of you would benefit from training. Your powers are more similar than you realize. Conduits, both of you. You have no idea how valuable you and the others like you are.”

But it had worked. He’d taken the power and converted it into his own. Whatever the fuck that meant. Apollion had known—or guessed enough to be right. And Bryce … the sword …She’d been a conduit to his power.

Apollion calls them conduits, which derives from the Latin word for bring together. Conduits create a link or pathway between two things, and in this context, that thing is power. The presence of the Horn makes the link between Bryce and Hunt particularly unique. When their powers merge, they are not only able to convert magic, but even able to teleport together:

Falling through time and space and light and shadow—Up was down and down was up, and they were the only beings in existence, here in this garden, locked away from time—

Something cold and hard pushed into her back, but she didn’t care, not as she clenched Hunt to her, gasping down air, sanity. […] Sweat coated their bodies, and she dragged her fingers down his spine. He was hers, and she was his, and—

“Bryce,” Hunt said, and Bryce opened her eyes. Harsh, blinding light greeted them. White walls, diving equipment, and—a ladder. No hint of a garden.

Hunt describes how it felt to have her magic travel through him:

He didn’t know how to describe it—the feeling of her magic wending through him. Like he existed all at once and not at all, like he could craft whatever he wished from thin air and nothing would be denied to him. Did she live with this, day after day? That pure sense of … possibility? It had faded since they’d teleported, but he could still feel it there, in his chest, where her handprint had glowed. A slumbering little kernel of creation.

Her magic is described as a force that winds through him, making him feel like nothing and everything at once. They achieve that space of in-between, of balance, that Hypaxia uses to channel her magic. That magic remains with him, a slumbering kernel of creation waiting to be activated again.

The word conduit is also used in Prythian when Feyre, who is Made, acts as a conduit for the Cauldron—to both unbind and bind. After the spell she works unbinds Amren and the Cauldron, she has to act urgently because it has torn a hole in the fabric of the world. Like Hunt, she becomes both something and nothing at once. Rhysand’s magic flows through her to bind the Cauldron and he expends his power, his entire life force, to do it.

I was both form and nothing. And behind me … Rhys’s power was a tether. An unending lightning strike that surged from me into this … place. To be shaped as I willed it. Made and un-Made. […] I remembered a mural I had seen at the Spring Court. Tucked away in a dusty, unused library. It told the story of Prythian. It told the story of a Cauldron. This Cauldron. And when it was held by female hands … All life flowed from it. I reached mine out, Rhys’s power rippling through me. United. Joined as one. Ask and answer. I was not afraid. Not with him there.

Rhys’s power flowed through me, out of me. The Cauldron appeared. Light danced along the fissures where the broken thirds had come together. There—there I would need to forge. To weld. To bind. I put a hand against the side of the Cauldron. Raw, brutal power cascaded out of me. I leaned back into him, unafraid of that power, of the male who held me.

This pathway for sharing magic seems to function the same as carranam in TOG. According to Rowan, carranam bonds are rare and require deep trust. Some do not even risk exploring their compatibility given the vulnerability it requires, but it can be extremely advantageous in dire situations. Carranam can also communicate silently with one another.

Before we discover that Aelin and Rowan are carranam in TOG, Aelin uses a sacred object—Damaris, Sword of Truth—as a conduit for her magic:

She had little control over the power, but she did have a sword—a sacred sword made by the Fae, capable of withstanding magic. A conduit. Not giving herself time to think it through, she threw all her raw power into the golden sword. Its blade glowed red-hot, its edges crackling with lightning.

This scene, where Aelin reveals her fae heritage and channels her magic through another source, seems like intentional foreshadowing for her carranam bond with Rowan, which is introduced in the next book. And the language Sarah uses to confirm they are carranam is similar to language she uses between Elain and Azriel during their key scenes, which I will get to soon.

Rowan reached her, panting and bloody. She did not dishonor him by asking him to flee as he extended his bleeding palm, offering his raw power to harness now that she was well and truly emptied. She knew it would work. She had suspected it for some time now. They were carranam.

He had come for her. She held his gaze as she grabbed her own dagger and cut her palm, right over the scar she’d given herself at Nehemia’s grave. And though she knew he could read the words on her face, she said, “To whatever end?”

He nodded, and she joined hands with him, blood to blood and soul to soul, his other arm coming around to grip her tightly. Their hands clasped between them, he whispered into her ear, “I claim you, too, Aelin Galathynius.”

Rowan’s magic punched into her, old and strange and so vast her knees buckled. He held her with that unrelenting strength, and she harnessed his wild power as he opened his innermost barriers, letting it flow through her.

A spear of black punched into her head—offering one more vision in a mere heartbeat. Not a memory, but a glimpse of the future. The sounds and smell and look of it were so real that only her grip on Rowan kept her anchored in the world.

So she was not afraid of that crushing black, not with the warrior holding her, not with the courage that having one true friend offered—a friend who made living not so awful after all, not if she were with him.

Offer and permission. Rowan came for Aelin and offered his hand, his power. She accepts his offer without the need for explanation. Their hands remain between them. Blood to blood, soul to soul. This language also appears in the witch curse, and the next sentence is: be the bridge, be the light. Together, these couples forge a bond of friendship, trust, and power. And it usually changes the course of the world.

Opposing forces

It is no coincidence that Elain and Azriel are described as opposing forces that achieve harmony together: light and dark, life and death, Hope and Void. They represent two halves of a magical whole, just like the Cauldron. And I suspect their opposing powers are pointed out for a reason.

All three are described as slumbering before their key scenes together:

But the Cauldron. As if some great sleeping beast opened an eye. The Cauldron seemed to sense us watching. Sense us there. […] She only panted, and that monstrous force swelled behind us, a black wave rising up.

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

The gates to her mind … Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers—or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns.

The Suriel calls Elain the trembling fawn (an echo of the Book of Breathings), and Azriel’s powers are compared to a beast. Together, they create a fanged beast and trembling fawn, though I still believe Elain could represent both on her own.

As the fawn, Elain is linked to the warmth of dawn and spring: the rebirth of life after the peaceful slumber of night and winter. And that wild power Azriel possesses is often associated with a cold, final rest: death.

“The Cauldron.” Another awful smile. “Yes. That mighty, wicked thing. That bowl of death and life.” It shivered with what I could have sworn was delight.

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.

Azriel, his face a mask of beautiful death, silently promised them all endless, unyielding torment, even the shadows shuddering in his wake.

They also seem to combine Hope (iridescent light, or luminous colors) and Void (dark that devours all other light and color), which again creates balance associated with the Cauldron.

No crackling braziers, no faelights. And in the center of the massive tent … a darkness that devoured the light. The Cauldron.

Tendrils of light drifted between the sisters. And one, delicate and loving, floated toward Mor. To the bundle in her arms, setting the silent babe within glowing bright as the sun. […] And as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta’s back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore. A bargain. With the Cauldron itself. Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether.

Azriel’s black hair seemed to gobble up the blinding sunlight.

Azriel silently faded into blackness—until he was my own shadow and nothing more.

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

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.

And while they may be at odds—as opposing forces naturally are—there is beauty and harmony in the place where they meet.

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

The place where they meet

These aren’t the only important scenes, of course, but they are scenes in which all three—the Cauldron, Azriel, and Elain—play a central role. The first scene occurs when Elain is lured and stolen by the Cauldron, and Azriel is the one who notices and plans to rescue her before others, even her own sisters. At this point (and I’d argue that this truly began at their very first meeting, like @offtorivendell) we can see they have a special connection. So what I am about to suggest may sound a little wild, and likely isn’t the case (yet), but I think it may at least be possible in the future.

Azriel and Elain are both perceptive and seem to read each other well without words, like those who are carranam. Unlike Mor and others, Elain does not need to pester Azriel to make him explain or talk about feelings.

Rhys loosed a breath. “It’s hard to tell with him—and he’d never tell me. I’ve witnessed Cassian rip apart opponents and then puke his guts up once the carnage stopped, sometimes even mourn them. But Azriel … Cassian tries, I try—but I think the only person who ever gets him to admit to any sort of feeling is Mor. And that’s only when she’s pestered him to the point where even his infinite patience has run out.”

In fact, Elain is able to elicit explanation and feeling from Azriel on her first attempt in their very first meeting: he admits that it can be frightening to fly, especially in bad conditions. It’s interesting that her first question, while seemingly simple and obvious, is focused on travel, something we know she desires, and something he wasn’t taught until later, which surely she couldn’t have known at that point.

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly?”

He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, “Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.”

“That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“It is sometimes,” Azriel said. Cassian tore his relentless attention from Nesta long enough to nod his agreement. “If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away.”

Similarly, Azriel seems to be able to read her without his shadows from this first interaction. Even with this connection, his reaction to her capture is noteworthy for a couple of reasons. First, he speaks from the shadows, as if in silent conversation with someone. This statement could simply be a response to the shadows, or it could be a response to someone, like Elain, who has powers that allow her to appear to and potentially communicate with others across realms. If they share a bond of power, then this might be yet another clue.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.”

And most unusual, his eyes glow golden rather than darken like we would expect when he is upset. This could be attributed to strong emotions (like his joyful laughter in ACOFAS), but…it could also be connected to Elain’s magic. The only thing the Suriel notes of Elain’s search for it was that it could see her doe eyes peering at it from across the world. We don’t yet know what it looks like from the other side when mystics make contact, but we do know the ones they connect with—namely Princes of Hel—can, like conduits, peer back through their eyes to ascertain where they are. And like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell have theorized, the Illyrians might share heritage with Princes of Hel.

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

If Azriel was engaging in silent communication with Elain, as @offtorivendell has suggested before, and she was trying to use a new power she didn’t fully understand, then her shock makes even more sense. My personal headcanon is that she told him not to come, tried to convince him she was okay…and he came for her anyway. (Yeah, yeah, this likely didn’t happen, but a girl can dream. That’s why I said it was headcanon.)

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

This small moment sounds a lot like the way Aelin responds when Rowan comes for her and offers her his power in another dire situation.

I love how this entire rescue sequence conveys their natural chemistry as they work together quietly and harmoniously even under dire circumstances. And when Azriel loses the current and drops a few feet suddenly, Elain is notably silent unlike Briar. She isn’t afraid with Azriel, her friend who came for her, holding her. Just like Feyre and Aelin weren’t afraid when their counterparts held them. It’s almost as if they were designed to travel together.

But he snarled, “Fly,” and I veered toward the way I’d come, back trembling with the effort to keep my body upright. Azriel turned, the girl moaning in terror as he lost a few feet to the sky—before he leveled out and soared beside me.

Sarah reminded us of this rescue sequence more than once in ACOSF for a reason, and I think that reason relates to their connection, but we won’t know for sure until the next book.

The other Cauldron-centric scene with Elain and Azriel involves rescuing the world. Azriel does something noteworthy in her presence yet again: he entrusts Truth-Teller to her, which is described like him and the Cauldron. As @ofduskcourts has pointed out, he arms her with this legendary blade gently, tenderly.

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

And then their eyes meet and hands linger, words yet again not required for them to read each other. Blood to blood and soul to soul.

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

Be the bridge…

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

While I do believe feelings motivated Azriel in his gesture, I also can’t help but wonder if the blade wanted to be given to her (remember, Made items like Truth-Teller often became sentient). As @merymoonbeam suggests, it may have even recognized her as kin and sang to her like the Starsword sang to Bryce, who is the Starborn heir, not simply someone who has Starborn heritage. This inheritance seems to pass down through females, so what if that is the case for Truth-Teller? It may also explain why her eyes widen at the sight of the blade.

Be the (dark) light. Elain accepts the blade and uses it to change the course of the war and the fate of the realm. My favorite part of this rescue is that she appears to answer Feyre’s pleas, instead of or in coordination with the Cauldron, as though they are linked. I suspect this may have happened at the end of ACOSF as well (which I explain more in a reblog of the murky post). The Cauldron—part of the sacred trio—then purrs for Elain. Purrs. (If she can make that beast of a bowl purr, does that mean she can also make Azriel purr? Sorry, had to ask.)

For a moment, I thought the Cauldron had answered my pleas. […] Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.” […] The Cauldron purred in Elain’s presence as the King of Hybern slumped to his knees, clawing at the knife jutting through his throat. Elain backed away a step.

And perhaps like Nesta, who needed to maintain distance from the Trove objects after recovering them, Elain returned the blade to Azriel in the same gentle manner and did not look back. The level of trust Azriel displays is noteworthy enough for Mor and Feyre to discuss in ACOFAS, which acts as a bridge between the main trilogy and spin-off novels. In other words, like the rescue scene, we aren’t quite done with that thread of the story yet.

Those two scenes, along with the other clues, lead us to the bit about how their powers might be brought together in future books. If you’ve read any of my recent theories, you know I have been circling around how they might travel together using their powers. @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell also suspect that both Azriel and Elain have access to Void. A while back, @elrielbliss posted about their ability to teleport, and @merymoonbeam reminded us of the pocket-realm Apollion uses to speak with Hunt. A pocket-realm is the space—or void—between, where life can pass through as we learned in Erilea.

“I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world’s radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.”

I believe that those who have been granted access to the space between—like Elain and Azriel—can use it to travel. Not only are they both connected to the Cauldron, which is a magic bowl of power and a portal, but they are also both gifted with unique powers that allow them to travel in ways that uncover secrets, truths that have been hidden or forgotten over time. These powers are given to them in the dark: Azriel’s powers came to him while he was locked up in an airless, lightless cell, and Elain’s sight was gifted to her when she was tossed into the dark womb-like waters of the Cauldron.

In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone.

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.

They both possess the gift of moving unseen and unheard:

I didn’t want to think about where they’d go, what Azriel would do. I hadn’t even known Azriel possessed the ability to winnow, or whatever power he’d channeled through his Siphons. He’d let Rhys winnow us both in the other day—unless the power was too draining to be used so lightly.

But we were gone. Azriel’s dark breeze was different from Rhys’s. Colder. Sharper. It cut through the world like a blade, spearing us toward that army camp.

And as if he’d summoned him, Azriel stepped out of a pocket of shadow by the stairs and scanned us from head to toe.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

Do they access the space between when they travel physically, giving themselves over to wind and darkness?

She didn’t dare see if Hunt still stood after his flawless shot. Not as the air of the Gate’s arch turned black. Murky. […] Bryce gave herself to the wind and darkness, and teleported for the Gate.

Does time slow when they travel, similar to when Bryce accesses the gate with the Horn?

Rigelus roared as Bryce jumped into the awaiting darkness. It caught her, sticky like a web. Time slowed to a glacial drip. […] She fell, slowly and without end—and sideways. Not a plunge down, but a yank across. The pressure in her ears threatened to pulp her brain, and she was screaming into wind and stars and emptiness, screaming to Hunt and Ruhn, left behind in that crystal palace. Screaming—

Her teleportation is associated with terms that remind us of the Cauldron (the icy darkness of Void), Azriel (his icy rage and cold, dark breeze), and Elain (murky realm). Murkiness, like darkness, is ambiguous enough to describe air or water, and it is this dark setting that both oracles and mystics use to activate their powers. Like the higher beings who are part of the same consciousness (which I believe is the sacred trio), they also possess different forms: one is a sphinx and the other is a wolf shifter. Elain persistently asked about changing bodies in the book that is meant to act as a bridge for future stories, so the connection between gods, sacred sight, guidance, and different forms might be another hint that Elain can shift between forms and places, like the sacred trio. Similar to the gate that allows Bryce to travel, the mystic wolf’s water is described as murky:

But Ithan stormed to the nearest tub. The wolf mystic floated in the murky, salt-laden water, hair spread around her, eyes closed. Breathing mask and tubes back in place.

Just like Elain’s inner sight:

Elain was staring at the unlit fireplace, eyes lost to that vague murkiness.

Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

@offtorivendell also pointed out this thought from Feyre, which reinforces what we suspect. Elain can access the space between through her murky realm, and uses it to wander, like the sacred trio:

Elain had been told—by Amren. She now sat at the table, more straight-backed and clear-eyed than I’d seen her. Had she beheld this, in whatever wanderings that new, inner sight granted her? Had the Cauldron whispered of it while we’d been away? I hadn’t the heart to ask her.

If she does travel like the sacred trio, does it look like this?

I lunged for them, but the Cauldron was too fast. Too strong. It whipped me back, back, back—across the battlefield. […] We arced away, across the field. […] We whisked by so quickly I couldn’t hear what was said… […] The Cauldron sucked back into itself, and I was again atop that rock. […] I snapped back into my body. My hand remained atop the Cauldron. A living bond. But with the Cauldron settled into itself…I blinked. I could blink.

Like Nesta flowing into the Prison during her song-induced vision, Feyre is whisked across the battlefield by the Cauldron. It moves like a force. When her hands are on its iron body, she describes their connection as a living bond. As I have theorized before, Elain seems to possess a living bond with the Cauldron through her murky realm, which may be just beyond the vine-covered iron mental gates. This living bond allows her to move through the world, and in between worlds, like the higher beings who are part of that sacred consciousness, providing guidance and support when needed. And when she withdraws from the endless, murky pathways of this consciousness, she blinks.

Accessing the past, rather than watching the present, may function slightly different. But it also resides in that space between. When in the witch mirror, Aelin and Manon have bodies that are not bodies. It is a void, a place of dark light, and the memories they witness ripple and expand—like air or water.

Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but … a form nonetheless. […] Not … this. Not absolutely nothing. […] The eddying fog darkened, and Manon and Aelin stepped close together, back to back. Pure night swept around them—blinding them. Then—a murky, dim light ahead. No, not ahead. Approaching them. But the light rippled and expanded, figures within it appearing. Solidifying. […] They stared into the swirling mist again, where the scenes—the memories—had unfolded.

Is it possible that Elain can access both past and present, but they require different pathways in the space between? Will she travel those pathways with someone else—her wraithlike friends, one of the priestesses, or her bonded partner and friend? Like Rowan is for Aelin, I suspect Azriel might also be the voice, a tether for Elain in the void—a secret, silent dreamer.

He was a voice in the void, a secret, silent dreamer. And so were his companions.

And with Azriel’s presence, she won’t need to be afraid of what she uncovers. They will face it together. The big question for me is, what does travel look like when their powers merge and they access that space between? Can Elain take Azriel wherever she travels mentally, like the Cauldron does when it is connected to Feyre through a living bond? Is it possible for them to navigate those pathways and physically appear together wherever they focus their intention? Or is it simply that, with Azriel’s power, Elain might travel deeper and faster without losing herself to the cosmos like others have? It would make sense that he can—as carranam do—physically and mentally anchor her. Any of these possibilities might help Bryce find Hel and, ultimately, uncover lost truths to defeat the Asteri, who will likely use every advantage they possess—including a network of mystics, if they haven’t already—to exact revenge. Elain and Azriel will need to explore their powers and travel to whatever end to find the answers, all to weave a more hopeful future together.