Heir

“I belong nowhere, Quil had told Aunt Hel as a boy, back when he still shared his woes without fear of her judgment.

You belong to your people, she’d said. The people of the Empire.”

Identity and belonging, or the lack thereof, are central to Quil’s character. He struggles to reconcile his heritage, which places him in a unique and isolating position as he is a product of multiple worlds, but feels fully accepted in none. Helene’s response frames him as a part of the whole, rather than a divided Empire. Yet, this role leaves him with little room to explore his personal desires or grieve his losses, as his sense of duty often eclipses his individuality.

“What if I end up exactly like him?”

Quil’s father, Marcus Farrar, was a tyrant who nearly destroyed the Martial Empire with his cruelty. For Quil, his hesitation about assuming the throne is not simply a rejection of responsibility; it’s rooted in the terror that he might become the same kind of monster. The quote also speaks to the novel’s theme of The Corrupting Influence of Power. Quil is painfully aware of how unchecked ambition and moral compromise can lead to ruin. This self-awareness sets him apart, but it also traps him, as he questions whether he can ever escape his father’s legacy.

“‘It’s not a game,’ the man said softly. ‘Sixteen children are dead. Perhaps more.’”

While Sirsha is focused on her own survival, Elias wants justice not only for his son, but also for the other victims. Over a dozen children were murdered, and counting, and hearing the number makes it harder for Sirsha to dismiss the job as just another mercenary task. The reference to the dead children echoes Sirsha’s own traumatic history and her banishment from her people.

“There is beauty in the dark, and strength. But not death, daughter of Kegar. Not yet.”

For Aiz, the Hollows represent both literal and metaphorical darkness—a place of fear and loss, but also the birthplace of her determination and faith. Her encounter with the creature that calls itself Mother Div reframes the darkness around her. Rather than a symbol of oblivion, the dark becomes a crucible for transformation.

“To the elements, the past, present, and future can blend together. You must learn how to tell them apart.”

The wisdom passed down from her mother regarding Sirsha’s magic shows how the tracker’s abilities are both her greatest asset and her greatest curse, forcing her to exist in multiple dimensions—past trauma, present danger, and future consequence—all at once. The line is also representative of Sirsha’s emotional state. Just as the elements blur time, Sirsha herself is trapped between who she was, who she is, and who she could be.

“Never depend on anyone else to keep you safe, nephew. You keep them safe instead.”

Helene’s words encapsulate the expectations that have shaped Quil: to be self-reliant, to protect others at all costs, and to shoulder the responsibility for his people. Helene’s advice reflects her own survival strategy as Empress. Quil, however, shows a glimmer of a different path. By cutting Sirsha loose and giving her the opportunity to act, Quil demonstrates not only trust in her but also a recognition that leadership sometimes requires letting go of control and relying on others. This moment illustrates The Danger and Necessity of Trust: Quil needs to trust Sirsha, even if doing so means making himself vulnerable.

“Help me, daughter. Find me. Release me and I will give you power beyond what you could dream. Power to do anything. Power to save your people.”

Div’s promise of power speaks to Aiz’s deepest vulnerabilities. Coming from the poverty and despair of Kegar, she has experienced firsthand the greatest suffering of her people and felt powerless to stop it. The idea of being able to end that suffering is not just enticing; it feels like destiny. However, even at this early stage, the power Div offers her comes with a condition.

“Sometimes the power of a story is greater than anything else on earth.”

Laia’s words reflect the symbolic importance of stories in Heir. They shape identities, forge connections, and inspire change. Stories are also far more than static accounts of the past; they are living entities capable of influencing the present and shaping the future. Both Laia and Aiz are storytellers, and the trajectory of both in the novel focuses on a single story: that which brought the creature called Div out of the Sea of Suffering.

“‘Stop convincing yourself you can’t tell me what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘I’m not like Kade. Or your sister. I won’t betray you or judge you.’”

Sirsha’s experiences with others throughout her life have reinforced her belief that trust is a weakness and vulnerability is dangerous. Quil’s declaration is both a reassurance and a challenge to her, forcing Sirsha to reevaluate her defenses and consider the possibility that Quil might be different from those who have hurt her before. The structure of their relationship, therefore, hinges on The Danger and Necessity of Trust, as each struggles to trust the other and allow themselves to open up.

“‘I won’t say anything,’ she said, because doing so would make her appear honest. But some part of her also felt gratified at the relief on his face.”

Aiz’s reasoning for agreeing to keep the assassination attempt secret is a strategic manipulation. She’s playing into the honest, kind façade she built as Ilar. However, her response to Quil’s visible relief reveals the softer, more human side of her she tries to ignore. Despite her mission, she has a growing desire for connection and a genuine emotional investment in Quil.

“‘I’m here,’ he whispered. ‘You’re not alone, Sirsha.’ For once, she didn’t have a quip or a comment. At his throat, their oath coin burned.”

At her core, Sirsha feels deeply isolated and unworthy, a belief built up from years of her sister’s abuse and her own guilt over the events that led to her banishment. This trauma becomes a barrier to the trust and vulnerability required for relationships, and it’s a pattern she has repeated with Quil. However, Quil again reassures her that he is there for her, which momentarily breaks through her defenses.

“He is a means to an end. Div’s voice sounded in Aiz’s mind, but for the first time, Aiz didn’t respond, didn’t agree.”

Aiz has thus far been characterized as someone who manipulates others to achieve her goals. However, her calculated strategy to use Quil as a pawn has started to falter as she begins to have genuine feelings for him. Her feelings for Quil compromise her ability to carry out her mission and complicate her perception of the world. As the crown prince of the Empire, Quil represents everything she should hate. Yet, her growing affection for him forces her to see him not as a symbol but as a human being. The tragedy of Aiz’s character arc is that their connection is not enough to save her humanity.

“The heady fragrance of Spire roses assaulted his senses. He grimaced, thinking of Aiz […] They smell of life, she’d say. Cero used to think so too.

Now everything stank of death, even Spire roses. Especially on the days when Cero came back from bombing runs.”

The symbolic transformation of the Spire roses in Cero’s mind represents the broader corruption of Kegar under Tiral’s leadership. The roses, once a rare source of joy for Aiz, now symbolize Cero’s disillusionment with the ideals he once held dear. While life there was always difficult, Kegar has now wholly become a machine of exploitation and death.

“The prince wanted to write a letter in which he told his aunt all that had happened, and all that he feared. He wanted her wisdom and advice. For years, that hadn’t been enough for him. What a fool he had been.”

For much of his life, Quil feared allowing himself to depend on others, particularly on his aunt, Empress Helene—ironically, the one who instilled in him this fear of dependence. He also rejected the burden of leadership put upon him. As he grows into his position as a leader, he realizes that it is not a solitary endeavor but requires the wisdom of those who have walked the path before. However, this growth comes tinged with regret for wasted time and for rejecting the support he now craves.

“What future do you choose for your people, Aiz? Death? Or life?”

Mother Div manipulates Aiz by presenting her with a false binary: Either sacrifice her humanity for her people or allow them to die. Mother Div equates life with power and restoration for the Kegari people, but she falsely implies that this life is possible only through her monstrous methods. By accepting Div’s terms, Aiz implicitly agrees to perpetuate cycles of violence and loss, trading the lives of the few for the hope of salvation for the many.

“Some part of you broke that day your family cast you out, a voice crooned in Sirsha’s mind. The humanity drained out of you and left you a shell. You are tainted. You shall never love. Come, child. Come to one who will understand, for I, too, am empty.”

Sirsha has long grappled with her identity as an outcast, haunted by losing her place within her family and the Jaduna. Div’s predatory rhetoric forces Sirsha to confront the wounds left by that rejection, tempting her to give in to the void within herself. Her promise of understanding and kinship is particularly insidious because it resonates with Sirsha’s loneliness.

“Aiz could have said a dozen things. She could have lied. She could have ignored Noa’s question entirely. But she’d lied for months. Now, facing the woman who was like a mother to her, the truth was all she had.”

In response to Noa’s question about the cost of her campaign for Kegar, Aiz is forced to confront the enormity of what she has sacrificed. Aiz’s recognition that she has sacrificed “too much” does not absolve her—it indicts her. Her journey becomes a cautionary tale of what happens when ambition eclipses humanity, and even well-intentioned leaders can lose sight of the lines they should never cross.

“‘For the people’ was a blood-soaked shield brandished by tyrants everywhere. Aiz was no different.”

This quote captures Cero’s inner conflict between his loyalty to Aiz and his growing disillusionment with what she has become. Her rhetoric of saving her people and her justification for violence echo the language of countless leaders throughout history, both within the story and in the real world, who have committed atrocities in the name of a supposed greater good. Even a noble cause can become a weapon of oppression rather than liberation.

“‘You think because you spent a few months with my family that you know us,’ the Empress said. ‘You think we’re soft because we have so much. But that only gives us more to fight for. Know this, Tel llessi. The only reason that you caught me is because I let you.’”

This statement from Helene to Aiz shows the contrast between the two leaders. Aiz sees the Martials’ abundance as a sign of complacency and weakness. For Helene, having more to lose intensifies the drive to protect and defend. It also highlights one of Aiz’s weaknesses: underestimating her opponents. She relies on the brute strength given to her by Mother Div to wage her war. As a result, she misses the strategic decisions made by Helene and, later, Quil to temporarily put themselves in positions of weakness to gain a later advantage.

“Sometimes, the only way to blunt the violence of twisted magic is to confront it with its opposite.”

Sirsha’s realization that Div’s hunger is a manifestation of twisted magic, and that it cannot be destroyed outright, shifts the narrative away from one of vengeance or violence and toward an exploration of how the world’s evils must be met with their opposites: love, compassion, and sacrifice, illustrating the tension between Perpetuating and Breaking Cycles of Violence. It frames Sirsha’s potential death not as a tragedy, but as a necessary act of balance and justice.

“You are lost, Tel llessi. How many have died to satisfy this creature that feeds you power? And do not call her Mother Div. Our Holy Cleric would never sanction such violence. Not against the guilty, and certainly not against the innocent.”

Throughout the chapter, Aiz wrestles with her guilt, recalling Ruh’s love for Serra and the innocent dreams of her past. These moments of reflection show the cost of her ambition under Div’s influence as not just the lives lost, but the erosion of her humanity. Noa’s words cut through Aiz’s justification for her actions. “Mother Div” is not who she claims to be, and pretending otherwise only leads to further corruption and destruction.

“Because I love him, you cussed nags! Why else!”

Sirsha’s declaration of her love for Quil as she prepares to sacrifice herself to defeat Div is a turning point for her character. Throughout the novel, she is driven by survival and independence. Despite their mutual attraction, she also tried to avoid forming an emotional attachment to him. Her words signal a significant shift in her priorities. In admitting her love, Sirsha not only confronts her feelings but also reclaims her humanity, which had been eroded by years of loneliness and guilt.

“Without her, Cero, I am nothing.”

With Div gone, Aiz confronts the void left behind: not just the absence of power, but the absence of purpose and identity. Her entire sense of value has been tied to the power and validation she derived from Div. The one thing that made her exceptional and justified the ruthless actions she took has been stripped away. For Aiz, Div was both a source of power and a support she leaned on to avoid confronting the darker truths about herself.