Half-Blood

“I was like a walking romance novel character, thinking love conquers everything and all that crap. Sure. Love in my world usually ended up with someone hearing ‘I smite thee!’ as she was cursed to be some lame flower for the rest of her life. The gods and their children could be petty like that.”

Alex’s reflection highlights her disillusionment with love and intersects with the theme of The Journey to Self-Discovery and Belonging. Once naive enough to believe love could conquer all, she now recognizes that in her world, romance often leads to suffering, punishment, or even transformation at the whims of the gods. Her sarcastic tone masks a deeper frustration—she does not truly belong in the mortal world, yet the Hematoi world is just as unforgiving.

“‘No. It was. He thinks I’m a freak.’ 

[Rachelle] scooted closer, placing a gentle hand on my knee. ‘I know it’s hard for you to be away from the Covenant, but you’ll be okay. You’ll see. You have your whole life ahead of you, full of choice and freedom.’”

Alex repeatedly calls herself a “freak” in the novel, internalizing the rejection she faces, which underscores her struggle with self-discovery and belonging. In contrast, Rachelle offers a hopeful perspective, emphasizing choice and freedom rather than the rigid expectations of the Covenant. However, Rachelle’s optimism clashes with Alex’s reality, highlighting the novel’s central conflict between personal agency and societal forces and illustrating The Struggle Between Fate and Free Will.

“Go to the Covenant. A tingle ran along the back of my neck. The Covenant? Could I seriously go back there after three years, not even knowing why we’d left? Mom had acted like it wasn’t safe there for us, but I always chalked that up to her paranoia. Would they allow me back without my mother?”

Alex grapples with the uncertainty of returning to the Covenant after years in the mortal world. Her mother’s warnings about its dangers contradict her deep-rooted desire for stability and purpose, forcing her to question whether the Covenant represents safety or control. Alex realizes she no longer fully understands where she belongs, and her hesitation reflects the broader struggle of navigating fate, free will, and control in a world that has already decided her destiny.

“My brain quickly flipped through my lessons at the Covenant, the ones teaching us about pure-bloods who’d tasted aether and turned to the proverbial dark side. Lesson number one: they didn’t work well together. Wrong. Lesson number two: they didn’t travel in packs. Wrong again. Lesson number three: they didn’t share their food. Wrong again. And lesson number four: they didn’t hunt half-bloods.”

Alex realizes that the rigid teachings of the Covenant are not as absolute as she believed, offering another perspective on the issue of control in the narrative. The Covenant’s strict lessons attempt to impose order and control over how half-bloods perceive daimons, yet Alex’s real-world experience challenges these truths. Her ability to recognize these contradictions and stand firm with what she knows demonstrates her growing independence.

“It wasn’t my blood he was after; he’d swallow pints of it just to get at the aether. My very spirit shifted as he dragged it into him. Pain became everything. Suddenly, the daimon lifted his mouth. ‘What are you?’”

This quote establishes the mechanics of the Covenant universe, where daimons consume aether from pures and half-bloods, and foreshadows Alex’s unique identity as the second Apollyon. The daimon’s reaction to her blood hints at her extraordinary amount of aether, something Alex herself has yet to realize. This scene reinforces that Alex’s power is both an asset and a burden, shaping her fate in ways she cannot yet comprehend.

“Pures weren’t supposed to use compulsions on halfs who weren’t in servitude; it was considered highly unethical since compulsions stripped people of free will, choice, and everything. Damn Hematoi. Not that they ever cared about ethics.”

Alex’s reflection exposes the deep-rooted inequality that defines the Covenant universe, where power is inherited through bloodlines and wielded as a tool of oppression, illustrating the theme of the injustice of social hierarchies. Although the use of compulsion on free half-bloods is deemed unethical, Alex’s bitter remark reveals her awareness of the hypocrisy within Hematoi society. The very individuals who enforce laws against compulsion selectively ignore them when it serves their interests, reinforcing the rigid social hierarchy that keeps half-bloods subjugated.

“We had two options in life—either attend the Covenant or go into the working class. Halfs who had a pure-blood willing to speak for them and foot the cost of an education were enrolled in the Covenant to train as Sentinels or Guards. The other halfs weren’t so lucky. They were rounded up by the Masters, a group of pures who excelled at the art of compulsion. An elixir had been created out of a special blend of poppy flowers and tea. The concoction worked differently in a half’s blood. Instead of leaving them lethargic and sleepy, the refined poppy made them compliant and vacant, giving them a high they never came down from. Masters started indentured halfs on the elixir at the age of seven—the age of reason—and continued in daily doses. No education. No freedom.”

Alex’s reflection illustrates the systemic oppression embedded within Hematoi society, where half-bloods are given the illusion of choice but are ultimately bound to servitude. While the Covenant appears to offer half-bloods a path to purpose through Sentinel or Guard training, this system still ensures that half-bloods are in the service of pures, regardless of their role. Despite her rebellious nature, Alex initially fails to recognize that all paths—whether as a Sentinel, Guard, or mindless servant—serve the same oppressive system.

“As far as we knew, it was the only way a daimon could be made, but then again, it wasn’t like we hung around and talked to them. They were killed on sight. I’d always thought that policy was stupid. No one—not even the Council—knew what the daimons thought to accomplish by killing. If we caught one and actually questioned it, we could learn so much about them. What were their plans—their goals? Did they even have any? Or was it just the need for aether that kept them going? We didn’t know. All the Hematoi cared about was stopping them and making sure none of the pures were turned.”

Alex’s skepticism toward the Hematoi’s rigid approach to daimons highlights their society’s need to control everything strictly, even when it is counterproductive. Rather than seeking to understand daimons, the Council enforces a policy of immediate extermination, prioritizing the protection of pure-bloods over knowledge. This reflects the larger social order, where the pures maintain power through unquestioned tradition rather than critical thought.

“‘It never fails to amaze me that being what you are—what we are—you still don’t believe in the gods.’ 

‘No. I do believe in them. I just think of them as absentee landlords. Right now, they’re probably hanging out somewhere in Las Vegas, screwing showgirls and cheating at poker […] Yeah, they’re really watching and taking care of business. That’s why we have daimons running around draining pures and killing mortals for the fun of it.’”

Alex and Caleb’s conversation hints at the theme of the struggle between fate and free will as they question the role of the gods in their lives. While their very existence proves the gods are real, Alex’s skepticism about their involvement reflects a deeper disillusionment with divine authority. Her sarcastic remark about the gods indulging in earthly pleasures rather than intervening in the chaos of their world underscores a central tension in the novel—if the gods dictate fate, why do they seem so absent?

“‘Don’t look too hopeful there. It’s not going to happen. Allowing halfs and pures to mix isn’t the only thing they’re aiming for. The Council isn’t going to go against the gods and they sure as hell aren’t going to allow halfs on the Council. It’s nothing to get excited about.’ […] If Cody said jump, I’d have to say how high. Mouthing off at him wasn’t how a half treated a pure—ever. ‘Anyway, I overheard Council members talking about it. The halfs from the Tennessee Covenant have a strong following. They’re petitioning to be on the Council.’”

Alex is not the only one in the novel who finds the treatment of half-bloods under pure-blood rule unfair. This passage highlights the entrenched nature of the injustice of social hierarchies in the Covenant world, where even the possibility of change meets skepticism. However, the mention of half-bloods from the Tennessee Covenant petitioning for Council representation suggests that resistance is growing. This moment reveals an undercurrent of dissent, demonstrating that the struggle for equality is not confined to Alex alone. However, Cody’s dismissive attitude toward this movement reflects how deeply ingrained the existing hierarchy is—change is not just unlikely; it is nearly unthinkable.

“‘You don’t think it’s a good idea for you to talk about it? […] You’ve barely had any time to deal with what happened to your mother…what you witnessed and had to do.’ 

I felt something tighten in my jaw. ‘What I had to do is what all Sentinels have to do. I’m training to kill daimons. And I can’t talk to anyone. If Marcus even suspected I had problems dealing with it, he’d hand-deliver me to Lucian.’”

Alex is under tremendous strain, particularly at this point in the novel, as she grapples with the perceived death of her mother and the looming threat of failure. If she cannot master three years’ worth of training in a single summer, she risks being forced into servitude. This passage highlights the intersection between the themes of the struggle between fate and free will and the journey to self-discovery and belonging as Alex’s autonomy is restricted both by external forces and her own refusal to acknowledge her trauma. As the novel progresses, Alex’s unresolved emotions manifest at inopportune moments, complicating her path and emphasizing that repression is different from strength. Her struggle illustrates a more profound internal conflict—whether she is merely a weapon shaped by duty or an individual with the right to process her pain.

“Relieved, I settled back in my seat. Striking a pure—even in self-defense—was a fast way to get kicked out the Covenant. Killing a pure in any situation would get you executed, even if he was trying to cut your head off. As unfair as it was, we had to be careful navigating the politics of the pure-blood world.”

Alex reflects on the rigid power structures that dictate every aspect of half-blood life, reinforcing the idea that justice is not equally applied. Even in life-or-death situations, half-bloods must submit to the will of the pures, who hold absolute authority. The irony of this system is evident—half-bloods train to protect pure-bloods from daimons but have no right to protect themselves.

“He was right. Being born a half-blood wiped out any chance for a normal, healthy relationship. Like Caleb said, our duty didn’t allow for us to form attachments—anything we’d regret giving up or leaving behind.”

Alex and Caleb’s conversation exposes the illusion of privilege within the Covenant’s rigid social structure. While they do not experience the mindless servitude imposed on other half-bloods, their futures remain dictated entirely by their duty to the pures. Caleb’s resignation to life without meaningful attachments illustrates the system’s dehumanizing effects, reducing half-bloods to tools for protection rather than individuals with desires and aspirations, highlighting another aspect of the theme of the injustice of social hierarchies.

“Mom stared back at me—all except the eyes, the only thing we didn’t share. But now…now she’d have those gaping sockets and her mouth would be full of jagged teeth. And if she did see me again, she wouldn’t smile or hug me. She wouldn’t brush my hair back like she used to. There would be no tears of happiness. She might not even know my name. She would try to kill me. And I would try to kill her.”

The image of her mother, now a twisted amalgamation of Rachelle’s former self, symbolizes Alex’s internal battle between love and duty, family and survival. The stark shift from memories of warmth to the cold reality of potential violence illustrates how Alex’s journey to self-discovery and belonging intertwines with her fight for autonomy in a world dictated by fate and bloodlines. She must reconcile the person she is becoming with the painful choices she may have to make, cementing the emotional complexity of her transformation.

“For whatever reason, Mom had left the safety of the community to pull me away from the Covenant, setting all of this—this huge mess—into motion. During those three years, I’d never once called out for help, never stopped the insanity of living unprotected among mortals. The countless times I’d done nothing flashed before me. In a way I was responsible for what’d happened to her. Worse yet, if she’d killed those innocent people, I was responsible for their deaths, as well. […] There was a small chance she hadn’t committed horrific crimes, but if…if the daimon who had been my mother had killed someone, then one way or another, I was going to kill her. She was my responsibility now—my problem.”

Despite being a teenager caught in a world governed by divine prophecy and rigid social structures, Alex internalizes responsibility for her mother’s actions, blurring the line between accountability and inherited fate. She claims Rachelle as her “responsibility,” reflecting her desire to reclaim control and her painful acceptance that she is entangled in a violent destiny through her relationships. The shift from grief to resolve marks a turning point in Alex’s character arc, as she begins to define her identity through action rather than circumstance.

“‘There is nothing wrong with hope, Alex.’ 

‘But?’ 

‘But you have to know when to let hope go. […] Do you remember why you said you needed to be in the Covenant?’ 

The question knocked me off guard. ‘Yeah… I needed to fight daimons. I have to.’ 

Aiden nodded. ‘And do you still need that? Even after knowing that your mother is one of them?’ 

I thought about that for a moment. ‘Yes. They’re still out there, killing. They have to be stopped. I still need that even though Mom’s one of them.’ […] 

‘Then there is hope. […] Hope for you.’”

Aiden and Alex deepen their emotional connection as Aiden helps Alex confront the painful reality of her mother’s transformation, guiding her toward clarity and purpose. The quote highlights the tension between the themes of the struggle between fate and free will and the journey to self-discovery and belonging—Alex does not choose what happened to Rachelle, but she chooses how to respond. By reaffirming her commitment to fighting daimons despite the personal cost, Alex reclaims agency, transforming grief into determination. Aiden’s final words signal his belief in Alex’s resilience and foreshadow her continued growth.

“‘But the gods—they won’t allow that to happen.’ […] 

‘The gods…have not spoken to us in ages, Seth. […] They have removed themselves, and the Council does not believe they will intervene on anything. Besides, if the gods are curious or concerned, they already know about Alexandria. If the oracle has seen it then the gods already know. They have to be aware of her.’”

This conversation reveals the growing disconnect between the gods and the world; Lucian’s admission that the gods “have not spoken to us in ages” exposes a spiritual and political power vacuum that allows figures like Lucian to manipulate the system for personal gain. By invoking the oracle as a proxy for divine knowledge, Lucian justifies using Alex as a tool while denying her agency. The quote underscores how those in power weaponize fate to maintain control, even in the absence of divine authority.

“‘She wanted to protect you. The story of Solaris is truly tragic, but she stood against the Council and the gods. That’s what sealed their fate. Not what was written about them in the books.’ 

‘Why would Solaris do that? Didn’t she know what would happen?’ 

‘Some say she fell in love with the First. When he stood against the Council, she defended him.’ 

‘That’s so stupid […] She basically committed suicide. That isn’t love.’ […] 

‘People do the damndest things when they’re in love, Alex. Look at what your mother did. It’s a different kind of love, but she left everything because she loved you.’”

This conversation between Alex and Aiden deepens the theme of the journey to self-discovery and belonging by drawing parallels between Rachelle and the mythic figure of Solaris, the first second Apollyon. Aiden reframes what Alex sees as foolishness—Solaris’s and Rachelle’s defiance of powerful institutions—as acts of love and sacrifice. His insight challenges Alex to reconsider her mother’s choices not as betrayal or recklessness but as part of a painful, complex legacy of love, autonomy, and resistance. In doing so, Aiden pushes Alex further along her emotional journey, forcing her to question what she would risk—or become—for those she loves.

“I’d asked him what he would do if his parents had been turned. 

‘I would’ve hunted them down. They wouldn’t have wanted that kind of life.’

I squeezed my eyes shut. Mom would have rather been killed than become a monster preying on every living creature. And right now, she was out there, killing and hunting—waiting. Somehow, I ended up in front of my closet, my fingers drifting over the Covenant uniform.”

This moment marks a critical turning point in Alex’s journey of self-discovery and belonging, as she begins to accept the painful duty she must fulfill. Reflecting on Aiden’s hypothetical response to a similar tragedy, Alex internalizes his moral clarity and uses it to strengthen her resolve. In choosing duty over denial, Alex embraces her agency and the burden of the life into which she was born.

“He will take everything from you. Your power, your gifts—everything. He is the First, Lexie. Whether he knows it or not, he will drain everything from you so he can become the God Killer. There will be nothing left of you when he is done. The Council—they know this. They don’t care. All they want is the God Killer, but Thanatos will never allow that to happen.”

Rachelle offers a chilling moment of foreshadowing as she warns Alex of the cost of her connection to Seth. Her words suggest that Alex’s destiny may not only be predetermined but entirely consumed by forces beyond her understanding. The urgency of Rachelle’s tone highlights her confident understanding of the situation, while her warning raises critical questions about sacrifice, autonomy, and the dangers of blind obedience to fate.

“Both of us need to be Sentinels, right? You know why I have to do this. I know why you have to do this. I lost control, forgetting to see what could come of this. I could’ve ended whatever chances you had of becoming a Sentinel, but worse than that, I could have stolen your future. It doesn’t matter what you are or what you’ll become when you turn eighteen. The Council would ensure that you were removed from the Covenant, and I…would never forgive myself for that.”

Alex experiences a heart-breaking rejection from Aiden, illustrating how prejudice, discrimination, and social hierarchies in the novel strip characters of autonomy and deny them emotional fulfillment. Aiden chooses duty over desire, recognizing that any romantic relationship between a pure and a half-blood could destroy Alex’s future. His internal conflict shows how even the privileged grapple with the oppressive structures of the Hematoi world.

“‘Remember what you said about how your parents wouldn’t have wanted a life like that?’ […] 

‘Yes. I remember.’ 

‘She didn’t. I saw it just before she…was gone. She looked relieved. She really did.’ 

‘You released her from a horrible existence. That’s what your mother would’ve wanted.’ […] 

‘Do you think she’s in a better place now?’ […] 

‘Of course, she is. […] Where she is…she is no longer suffering. It’s paradise—a place so beautiful that we can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like.’ 

I assumed he was talking about Elysia—a place very much like heaven. […] ‘If anyone deserved it, she really does. I know it looks bad since she became a daimon, but she would never have chosen that.’ 

‘I know, Alex. The gods know that, too.’”

With his questions, Aiden leads Alex to a new understanding of her actions, offering comfort rooted in the belief that Rachelle’s fate was not entirely her choice and that the gods, though distant, recognize the difference between voluntary evil and forced corruption. The conversation allows Alex to find some emotional closure, reinforcing her belief that her mother’s soul remains intact beyond her physical transformation.

“What can I do? I’m not going to stop living…or give up on my life, because of what might happen. Something really bad may come out of this or something really good or…nothing at all. I don’t know, but I do know I’m going to focus on being […] one kickass Sentinel.”

Alex asserts her determination to reclaim agency over her life, highlighting her continued growth and the development of her character arc. Though she recognizes the uncertainty of her future—especially as an Apollyon—she refuses to be paralyzed by fear or prophecy. Her decision to focus on becoming a Sentinel reflects her attempt to define herself not by destiny, but by personal choice and action. It marks a pivotal moment in her journey of self-discovery, where hope and resilience override fatalism.