The Everlasting

The novel’s final chapters replace the glorified violence of Una’s legend with a heroism rooted in preservation and community. Una’s first act after the time loop breaks is killing Queen Yvanne, which serves as an execution to secure her freedom. Her subsequent actions underscore The Personal Cost of Heroic Myths as she rejects her martial identity for one that more closely aligns with her own values. She trades her armor, the primary signifier of her knightly identity, for simple blankets, metaphorically exchanging a life of combat for one of care. The epilogue solidifies this transformation through the folklore surrounding her new identity as the Green Knight. The new tales are not of epic battles but of quiet protection: runaway brothers are given refuge, a dragon hunt is thwarted without bloodshed, and the hungry are fed. Owen’s narration makes this deconstruction of heroism explicit, noting that in these new stories, “[n]o duels are fought, no crowns are won. There are not even any heroes, really” (305). This subverts the Everlasting Cycle’s premise, suggesting that heroism lies not in glorified heroic acts for the state but in the work of fostering life.

Una’s arc underscores the theme of Personal Liberation Versus Imposed Destiny by rejecting the narrative identity her mother constructed. Yvanne’s power over Una was always narrative; by naming her “Una Everlasting,” she trapped her in a role. When Yvanne invokes this title, Una’s response, “That is not my name” (296), is the definitive act of self-reclamation, verbally severing ties to her imposed destiny. While killing her mother finalizes this break, it is Owen’s self-sacrifice that shatters the narrative cage, as it is an act of agency Yvanne’s cyclical plot could not predict. Free from the loop, Una’s choice to live as a protector of an unnamed wood rather than as a champion of a dominion represents the realization of her liberated identity. The final step is Owen’s redaction of her true name from his manuscript, ensuring it cannot be co-opted as a “legend” or a “battle cry” (307), thus preserving her identity as her own.

The symbols of the yew tree and scars are transformed in the concluding chapters, reflecting the narrative’s turn from cyclical trauma to regenerative healing. The yew tree, once the engine of Yvanne’s time loop and a site of repeated death, is reclaimed as a source of life and sanctuary. Una uses its magic to resurrect Owen, planting the dragon’s heart seed within his fatal wound and transforming the site from the place where history resets into the source of his rebirth. The tree becomes the heart of a wood that “[has] never been named, nor claimed by any king or country” (305), a space outside the dominion of political narratives. Similarly, the scars they bear once served as markers of past wounds and their experiences in battle. Now, they both bear the mark of the tree’s growth, replacing their battle wounds and serving as physical testaments to their shared ordeal and survival. In this way, tools of their trauma have been repurposed for healing, marking their personal renewal rather than political exploitation.

The novel’s conclusion uses a metanarrative structure to resolve the theme of The Power and Peril of Narrative Construction. The epilogue is a collection of folklore framed by Owen’s reflections as an author, cementing the victory of personal, evolving truth over a singular, state-sanctioned myth. Instead of one authoritative text like the Everlasting Cycle, Una’s new legend is presented as a series of fluid, communal stories and fairy tales. This shift demonstrates that her story now belongs to the people she protects, evolving organically rather than being dictated from above. Owen’s final act is to write their true story and send it through time to his former professor and a contact named Gilda. This act serves to correct the historical record, supplanting Yvanne’s fabricated tragedy with their lived reality. The final message from Gilda confirms that the true manuscript has been received, effectively closing the narrative loop by ensuring that the authentic story endures. This structural choice champions personal testimony and collective memory over the monolithic histories written by the powerful.