“A dream? Nothing more than a terrible dream? Breaths sawed in and out of me, my mind sifting through flashbacks. ‘Kill her.’ The words wrapped around me like slithering snakes, taking the form of a willowy silhouette in my thoughts. Morsana. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. ‘Kill her while she sleeps. It’ll be easier that way.’”

Much like the Red God, Morsana is quick to suggest death; here, Maevyth has to actively fight against Morsana’s voice in her head urging her to kill Aleysia. This passage foreshadows Zevander’s struggle against Cadavros, who likewise infects Zevander’s mind. The novel implies that all the gods, even those allied to the main characters, are ruthless.

“‘I sullied you the moment I touched you.’ He stared down at his palms. […] ‘I’ve no idea what’s stirring in your head right now, but please do not imagine that I harbor any regret for earlier. I may lack experience, but I don’t lack the capacity to choose for myself. And I don’t appreciate the implication that I am some helpless damsel so easily lured by the wolf.’”

Though Zevander views his relationship with Maevyth through the lens of his trauma, she loves him without question. This passage unveils the inherent disrespect resulting from Zevander’s insecurity, implying that Maevyth has no agency to determine whom she wants as a partner.

“‘A weakness? Compassion is a weakness now?’ ‘Where utilizing your most deadly weapons to survive is concerned? Yes.’ What irritated me was that I couldn’t deny his argument. Even after Uncle Felix had attempted to violate me, there was still the split-second of hesitation on my part, for reasons I couldn’t explain. Remorse, even.”

Zevander’s advice shows How Abuse Manifests as Trauma, reflecting the difference between him and Maevyth. After centuries of torture, Zevander sees compassion as a way for other people to take advantage of him, whereas Maevyth has internalized the importance of compassion in preventing mistreatment. Maevyth struggles to disregard even Riftyn’s humanity to excuse violence.

“‘Imagine a storm on the sea. An unparalleled force, both powerful and…consuming. So utterly enthralling, it sweeps you out into the depths without your awareness. And at first, all is bliss. The waves, the exhilaration,’ he drawled in a lazy cadence. ‘You’re so blindly smitten, you hardly notice the black abyss creeping toward your feet.’ ‘And what is this black abyss?’ ‘Disappointment.’”

Zevander’s metaphor for love exposes The Importance of Vulnerability in Relationships. He understands the dangers of being open with another person. Because of his prior trauma, he predicts “disappointment” and a “black abyss” from such exposure. This passage shows the depth of the obstacle that Zevander’s past puts between him and Maevyth.

“‘With all this uncertainty, I must tell you something…about the marking on your chest.’ He leaned in, his body trembling with urgency. ‘It is the mark of your curse, but the source of great power.’ Zevander frowned. ‘You said it was the scar of sablefyre. Evil burrowed in my skin. Now it’s great power?’ ‘Sablefyre is great power, however dark it may be.’”

Alastor’s explanation of the eldritch glyph highlights the symbol’s unique balance of agency, power, and destiny. Alastor, who craves power, only sees the sablefyre as a boon, but to Zevander, who wants peace more than power, its destructive force threatens any possible stability he might achieve for himself.

“Wrists bound and resting in his lap, he clenched his fists at the memory, the rage pounding through him anew. Finally knowing the truth of his father’s actions, Zevander could no longer bury the agony of his death in hatred and indifference. The pain split through him like a scab being torn open, and he clenched his teeth, swallowing back the urge to break.”

After learning that Lord Rydainn killed a woman because he thought she was abusing her children, Zevander struggles to rationalize his hatred for his father. Without the barrier of hatred, Zevander’s grief floods him, threatening to “break” his resilience in his enslavement. This passage highlights how Zevander prefers the security of choosing to ignore complexity in favor of placing specific blame on others.

“Muscles shaking, he forced himself not to look at their naked forms, his eyes burning with both curiosity and humiliation. ‘Well, well. It seems you like a woman’s touch. That’s good.’ The general knelt at the edge of the bath, undoubtedly taking notice of the stiff flesh between his thighs. A reaction he desperately tried to tamp down by turning his thoughts to his father.”

Eldritch explores the outdated belief that arousal indicates consent to sexual activity, especially regarding men and erections. Because Zevander has a physiological response to sexual assault, Loyce comments that he must “like” the women touching him. The truth is that Zevander is not a voluntary participant and that his arousal is completely involuntary. Adding to the complex nature of this rape scene is that Zevander is a young adult who is “curious” about sex and sexuality and who has internalized the idea that male desire should be constant.

“Be a man, his head chided. What man wouldn’t enjoy a woman’s hands on him? Except, he hadn’t asked for those hands to touch him. They’d touched him without permission— against his will. Then they’d laid him across silk and fine fabrics, as if that would erase what they’d done. That was what troubled him most.”

Like the previous passage, Zevander’s internal monologue considers sexual assault from the survivor’s point of view. To cope with what has been done to him, Zevander tries to convince himself that he should “[b]e a man”—that is, should enjoy rather than be traumatized by Loyce’s sexual violence. He identifies the critical element of consent in defining his trauma, and he notices how Loyce uses “silk and fine fabrics” to mask her malicious behavior.

“Zevander let out a bitter chuckle while watching him panic, as he frantically tried to smother the flame. He’d never taken pleasure in the torment of others, but his pain, his suffering, felt justified. As Zevander watched the man’s struggles, a strange elation stirred in his chest. Satisfaction. The kind of punishment he couldn’t inflict on his own tormentor.”

Zevander’s joy in torturing the soldier who attacked Maevyth represents his own sense of justice and power but also hints at the brutality of unquestioned authority on a personal scale. For Zevander, needless suffering is evil, but suffering can be used to punish those who try to exert their will on others by force. He centers this feeling in his own trauma, noting how he would like to punish Loyce the same way.

“‘You could never love her properly. You can’t even stand her touch.’ ‘Silence yourself, or I’ll gladly unburden your mouth of its tongue.’ ‘It’s true. Tell me you don’t clench your teeth and long for your blade every time she draws a gentle hand across your flesh. Does it not bring back the memory of those abnormally soft hands? Does it not make you want to crawl right out of your skin and throttle her?’”

Theron identifies the way Zevander’s trauma interferes with his love for Maevyth; the phrase “love her properly” implies that the failure of the romance is rooted in sexual mismatch. Theron is correct, as Zevander struggles to separate the memory of sexual assault from the experience of sex with Maevyth, but he fails to understand that Zevander’s relationship with Maevyth is now built on emotional connection in addition to physical desire, demonstrating the importance of vulnerability in relationships.

“I hadn’t realized how utterly terrifying The Red God appeared, with his glowing red gaze, until right then, as he stared down at me, and I glanced away at the first thought that those menacing eyes were watching me.”

Having left Foxglove Parish and no longer believing in the religion of Vonkovya, Maevyth can see from the outside how horrifying her own beliefs were. Caedes, the Red God, stands for the violence and control that Sacton Crain used to isolate and abuse Maevyth in her youth. The discomfort that Maevyth feels at the god’s eyes watching her recalls the total power Crain exerts over the community.

“‘You are worthy.’ His brows lowered, muscles stiff and tense as he looked away. ‘And yet, I bear the marks of a slave.’ ‘You bear the marks of a warrior unbroken by the kind of pain that would’ve destroyed lesser men. […] Every one of these scars is precious to me. More precious than coin or crown.’”

Zevander’s understanding of himself is based on his past trauma; he has concluded that he is not “worthy” of love because of what was done to him and what he did to others in response. Maevyth attempts to redefine Zevander’s enslavement as a story of resilience, calling him “unbroken” and “precious.” Maevyth loves him for who he is, including the parts of himself that were created and hardened by centuries of torment.

“‘She is young. Too young to suffer this punishment!’ ‘I agree, but it is The Red God’s will. Trust in him.’ The old man’s lips twisted in disgust. ‘I will never trust in a god that burns young and innocent girls at the stake.’”

Maevyth’s grandfather argues with Sacton Crain in an attempt to expose the brutality of unquestioned authority. Though Crain uses religion to justify his malice, claiming that he is speaking “The Red God’s will,” Bronwick questions any faith that demands child sacrifices. Though it is Zevander’s threat that dissuades Crain from killing Maevyth, Bronwick’s strength is the model for Maevyth’s own defiance later in life.

“‘Look at her eyes! Silver, like the devil’s eyes. And, I say, it is time to banish the evil in our god’s flock, once and for all!’ The crowd murmured, zealous and fearful, and pressed forward, forcing us back toward the altar behind us. […] ‘My good people, let us purge ourselves. Offer our four most ungodly transgressors in one single sacrifice.’”

Highlighting how effective unquestioned authority is, Crain’s speech uses obvious lies to persuade his congregation. There is no “devil” with silver eyes in their religion, and yet his parishioners are “zealous and fearful” enough to accept Crain’s claim anyway. Likewise, Maevyth knows that Pestilios, not Caedes, is the cause of the “Decimation,” so the “sacrifice” will do nothing to “purge” the town. Crain’s willingness to couch any demands in piety and divine authority is the root of his power in Foxglove Parish; his followers’ acceptance of his words without question cements his position.

“Once again, he stood like a leashed attack dog. He would’ve ordinarily been inclined to ignore her command and carry out his vow to kill him, but as much as he yearned to watch the man suffer at his own hands, he acknowledged that it was Maevyth’s vengeance. Her tormentor. Her pain. He had no right to take that from her.”

Zevander restrains his desire to kill Crain for Maevyth—because he understands the importance of confronting one’s abuser. He wishes he could confront Loyce, and he would prefer to kill her himself, so he refuses to “take” the same opportunity away from Maevyth. However, Maevyth’s instinct is to forgive Crain, undermining Zevander’s sense of justice.

“‘I would still love you.’ ‘Don’t. Don’t say that again.’ ‘I love you, Zevander. What you’ve done, what you’ve suffered. It doesn’t change how I feel. None of this changes how I feel about you. That’s the beauty of unconditional love. It requires nothing in return.’ I reached out to bridge the space between us and ground him, but he backed away, like a single touch would turn him to stone. ‘You deserve more.’ ‘And you don’t?’”

Maevyth guides Zevander through his insecurities, first reaffirming her love for him, then assuring him of the unconditional nature of that love, and finally insisting that he is worthy of that love. This gradual escalation of tolerance and acceptance in the face of trauma shows the importance of vulnerability in relationships. As Zevander exposes his fear of Maevyth wanting and deserving “more” than he can offer, Maevyth assuages his fear with an honest declaration of her feelings.

“Zevander no longer cared. The act meant nothing. After decades of it, he felt nothing. Not even shame. How many had he bedded and killed on her behalf? Thousands, maybe. Each one honing his skills. His mind and heart had grown so numb, he wondered if either were capable of perceiving and feeling, at all.”

Zevander’s recollection of his role in the Gildona, as an enslaved sex worker and assassin, reinforces his conceptual link between sex and violence. During his enslavement, Zevander’s sexual expression was limited to Loyce’s assaults and to the targets she identified for him to have sex with before killing them. This repeated trauma has numbed Zevander’s ability to feel emotional connection to romantic partners and explains his aversion to power, which he views as antithetical to happiness.

“‘He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.’ ‘Everyone talks to me like that.’ Kazhimyr skidded to a halt. ‘They think they’re superior. The chosen. The sun gods. Years, I watched them torture you, and I did nothing. I was nothing back then! Now I have power. I have the ability to make them suffer as much as they made you—us—suffer.’”

Though Kazhimyr notes the abuse that he and Ravezio faced in the Solassion mines, Ravezio’s comment that “everyone” talks to him like he is inferior exposes the racism of his world. As an Eremician, Ravezio faces discrimination that Kazhimyr only associates with their enslavement.

“‘Coward!’ Zevander spat. ‘Are you so desperate for her affection?’ The question was an insult to any other slave, but Zevander wondered if Theron had yearned for it all along.”

Zevander hates Theron for seemingly idolizing Loyce; this is the compliant behavior that Theron adopted for surviving Loyce’s abuse. Though Zevander calls Theron a “coward,” part of his disgust comes from seeing a version of himself in Theron, his foil during enslavement; although Zevander chose to hold on to his sense of self by resisting Loyce as much as possible, he realizes that he was often tempted to acquiesce to her instead for self-preservation.

“‘For centuries, we’ve condemned Lyverians for their worship of Morsana. We tried to change them, convert them. We feared what they embraced. And yet, Caedes, The Red God, incited bloodshed and war.’ […] ‘In the end, we were all worshipping death to some degree, only they were far less violent.’”

Maevyth’s father reconsiders his position as one of the Red Men, the religious enforcers of the Red God. With the brutality of unquestioned authority, he once inflicted “bloodshed and war” on the Lyverians for worshipping Morsana, but he now sees how any belief system could be used for evil. He goes a step further, acknowledging that the Vonkovyan were more violent than the Lyverians they demonized.

“The last time, he’d only lost consciousness a few short hours. This time, he’d make sure it destroyed him entirely. And when his empty husk of a body lay lifeless, his soul far away from this place, they could gawp all they wanted. The blade trembled in his grasp as he held it to his chest where within that vicious organ still relentlessly pounded a rhythm of life.”

Zevander tries to die by suicide, hoping to destroy his body “entirely” until it is an “empty husk” as self-inflicted punishment for his “vicious” heart. However, the self-delusional nature of suicidal ideation here appears as Zevander imagines the onlookers “gawping” and his soul traveling “far away from this place”—things that would be impossible to perceive if he were really dead.

“‘The way the living has fed on the weak? The poor? The powerless? Have you forgotten your past so quickly, girl?’ A hint of irritation clung to his voice. ‘The hate and vitriol they cast upon you?’ […] ‘Tell me, if I were to go back to the moment when you sat in that cell, after they picked and prodded and beat you…what would that girl choose? Mercy? Forgiveness?’”

Cadavros’s criticism of Maevyth recalls Zevander’s advice to her during training—that compassion is not useful in survival. Cadavros wants Maevyth to become hateful, as he has become after years of torment and prejudice, but he doesn’t realize that Maevyth has chosen “mercy” and “forgiveness,” even at the height of her suffering. Cadavros and Zevander show how abuse manifests as trauma that repeats the cycle of violence, whereas Maevyth seeks to end the cycle of abuse through empathy.

“‘You must’ve forgotten your history, old man,’ Zevander rasped through heaving breaths. ‘Deimos didn’t long to be king. He longed for Morsana.’ ‘Yes,’ the beastly man hissed. ‘And that is precisely why he perished in the flames. He was weak for a woman! Just like you!’”

Cadavros seeks the power to control the world and assumes that Zevander, an equally powerful mage, also wants the same kind of power. However, Zevander, having grown close to Maevyth, now echoes her desire for peace and love. Like Deimos, Zevander doesn’t want to destroy the world but to destroy his enemies so that he can know peace.