A Dawn of Onyx

At the start of the novel, Arwen is defined almost entirely by what she does for others—healing townspeople, caring for her ailing mother, supporting her younger sister, and dropping everything to save Ryder when he arrives in great need. Her identity is rooted in service and duty to her loved ones rather than in any sense of personal agency. When faced with the possibility of being sent to the front lines, her first concerns are not for herself but for her sister, who is “too fearless” and believes herself invincible. Arwen also worries about her ill mother, who would be left alone, “too old and frail to fight” (9). Even when Arwen is captured, her instinct is to rely upon diplomacy rather than violence, and she therefore offers to heal an Onyx soldier in order to convince his comrades to spare the lives of her family. Furthermore, she willingly remains as a long-term captive in Shadowhold in order to ensure that her family remains safe; with this self-effacing decision, she once again values herself less than her loved ones and sacrifices her own freedom and well-being for their sake.

As the novel progresses, however, Arwen is repeatedly placed in situations that challenge her default mode of self-sacrifice. Her initial goal is to escape—but not for her own sake. Instead, she wants to return to her family and care for them as she has always done. Thus, her plan to flee Shadowhold is not based upon her desire to improve her own life, for she is driven by her guilt and a crippling sense of obligation toward her family. Even her eventual agreement to stay in Onyx long-term and work with the Onyx soldiers is based on Kane’s promise to locate her family and keep them safe.

For a good portion of the novel, she remains emotionally tethered to her compulsion to meet others’ needs. While imprisoned in the Onyx dungeons of Shadowhold, she acknowledges that she cannot “go back in time. All [she can] do [is] try to take care of [her]self” (66), but the very thought discomfits her. Eventually, she learns to consider her own needs, but her progress is diluted by her willingness to put her own life in danger to gather the burrowroot that will cure her mother’s illness. Thus, the narrative suggests that Arwen’s journey toward greater agency and self-worth is a process with false starts and repeated attempts as she struggles to reconcile her self-sacrificial instincts with the need to look after herself.

Only when Arwen starts forming relationships on her own terms—especially with Kane, Mari, and Dagan—does she begin to learn what she wants, not just what others expect or require of her. Her growing closeness with Kane is particularly important to this process. During one of their early conversations, he asks about her choice to sacrifice herself for her brother, demanding, “Why did you think your life was worth less than his?” (82). His incredulity forces Arwen to address this internalized belief and the shame associated with it. As she becomes closer with Kane, Mari, and Dagan, they push her to see herself as powerful and worthy in her own right, not just as a tool to be utilized when needed and discarded when she has served her purpose.

Although Arwen ultimately decides to finish the war by finding the Blade of the Sun and giving her own life to kill Lazarus, this is not the same type of sacrifice that she engaged in when she offered her life to save Ryder’s at the beginning of the novel. Rather than unthinkingly following her compulsion to prioritize others, she makes a climactic decision that arises from her hard-won strength and conviction. Still reeling from Kane’s betrayal, she now respects herself too much to settle for a man who has willfully kept important truths from her. While the narrative suggests that their relationship status will be revisited in subsequent installments, Arwen has nonetheless reconciled The Tension between Self-Sacrifice and Self-Interest and has reclaimed her autonomy after a lifetime of living for others.