61 pages • 2-hour read
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Content Warning: This section of the guide discusses graphic violence, child abuse, death, racism, and sexual content.
The Jasad Heir explores the challenges of preserving personal and cultural identity under systems of colonial oppression. Essiya is the rightful Heir of Jasad, yet she must surrender her identity to survive; Essiya becomes Sylvia, the Omalian chemist’s orphaned apprentice. She leaves the girl she was behind to assimilate into a world without Jasad, and this process begins with her torment by Hanim, during which time “the soft girl who had known a bird by its song and calmed at the touch of another was burned away” (71). Sylvia gives up her name and pieces of her personality, letting go of the “softness” and emotional vulnerability of her past life. When Sylvia reflects on her past identity, she thinks, “[Essiya] had died, in every way that mattered” (134). Sylvia erases Essiya so completely that she views Essiya as dead; she severs her past from her present, separating who she was from who she’s become.
Sylvia cannot keep her personal identity without danger, and she cannot cling to her Jasadi cultural identity, either. The larger scale political conflict raging throughout the novel illustrates the dangers that Jasadis face daily, as Sylvia thinks, “Jasadis were scattered, hunted, afraid. Any tales of them scheming for a new war came from the mouths of lunatics. They were outnumbered and outmatched. The only war left was to survive” (140). Jasadis must assimilate to the cultures of the other kingdoms, forsaking their names, cultural customs, and magical abilities, or face a Nizahl justice system that will sooner kill them than offer a fair trial. Assimilation is the key to survival, but the Mufsids offer an alternative framework for political opposition: armed resistance. The Mufsids refuse to erase who they are and where they come from, as the Mufsid woman at the river tells Sylvia, “We are trying to save Jasadis. But some of our people believe it is better to hide, to live a life under another’s control, than to stand up and reclaim what they took from us” (212). The Mufsids want to recreate Jasad, to find a space to “reclaim” their identities, their culture, and their kingdom.
The Mufsids are not the first to use force to push back against forced assimilation. The Jasadis who escaped the Blood Summit and settled in Dar al Mansi used their magic to call the Essam Woods into their village, obliterating their home. When Sylvia reaches Dar al Mansi for the second trial, she thinks, “What must Nizahl and the other kingdoms have done to Jasad for the villagers here to prefer this death to another invasion…They hadn’t pooled their magic together to repel the soldiers, but to destroy their village on their own terms” (405). Sylvia understands the violence of Nizahl, having experienced it firsthand, but the realization that others would rather die than assimilate strikes her emotionally. Sylvia has spent much of her life trying to erase who she was, to fit in to a society that views her cultural background as subhuman; the realization that some of her people would embrace death over assimilation reminds her of the severity of the political landscape she lives in, inspiring her to reject the erasure and return to her roots as Essiya at the end of the novel.
Arin and Sylvia’s relationship develops throughout The Jasad Heir, following the enemies-to-lovers trajectory that recurs as a trope in many romance novels, especially in the romantasy sub-genre. Sylvia is Essiya, the Jasad Heir, while Arin is the Nizahl Heir, next in line to rule the kingdom that destroyed Jasad and continues to persecute Jasadis. Though Sylvia later discovers that Arin has worked to reform Nizahl law and to make it fairer, Arin actively participates in the oppression of Jasadis. When he discovers Sylvia’s magic, he coerces her into becoming the Nizahl Champion, but not before treating her with physical brutality. When Sylvia fights him in the house at the edge of Essam Woods, Arin beats her violently and breaks both her wrists. Before she passes out, Sylvia watches as “Arin crouched by [her] head, and in [her] failing lucidity, he was death himself, arriving to reap [her] soul. To finish what the Supreme began and destroy the last of Jasad’s royal line” (110). Sylvia associates Arin with death in the abstract and with the destruction of her family and kingdom. Arin is her enemy and an incarnation of Nizahl’s violence, which places a seeming insurmountable distance between them.
As Arin trains Sylvia for the Alcalah, they grow closer, building a casual intimacy. Sylvia realizes she knows Arin deeply when Sefa questions her about their relationship, and Sylvia says, “Did you know he eats with his right hand when he is in a good mood and his left when he isn’t? Why do I even remember that? And if he touches me…He is Nizahl’s Commander. I should burn with hatred every second spent in his presence” (392-93). Sylvia feels torn between her feelings for Arin and her obligation to Jasad. Arin is an oppressor of both her personally and her kingdom, yet she knows the intricacies of Arin’s existence, his idiosyncrasies and quirks, and after the trip through the Meridian Pass, she knows about his past pain. She delineates between Arin the man and Arin the Nizahl Heir and Commander; she loves Arin, and this bridges the distance between them. Sylvia, who lost her home as a child, realizes that Arin feels familiar in the same way. She describes her recognition of her feelings for Arin as “like wandering through the woods for an endless night and finally stumbling into the dawn” and a “homecoming” (436). As they transition from enemies to lovers, fulfilling the terms of the genre trope, they begin to see each other as individuals rather than as representatives of warring kingdoms.
Though intimacy permits them to see each other as they really are, it does not erase the conflict between them. Instead, that political conflict shapes their personal relationship. Sylvia and Arin almost physically consummate their relationship after the Alcalah, and as they kiss passionately, Sylvia tells Arin, “I dream of killing you” (465). Instead of responding with concern, Arin replies, “My demented Suraira, we have much to discuss about seduction” (465). Arin welcomes her desire for violence with his flippant response. Though emotional intimacy serves as a bridge between them, physical intimacy stays a battleground between them, with yearning and violence tangled together. This battleground remains at the end of the novel, as Arin and Sylvia find themselves on opposite sides of a war between their kingdoms.
Sylvia’s natural desire for safety and freedom in an oppressive and dangerous environment conflicts with her feelings of obligation to the occupied kingdom of Jasad. Sylvia’s mere existence is dangerous; if anyone discovers that she’s Jasadi, much less the Jasad Heir, Nizahl will kill her instantly. To survive, Sylvia must repress who she is and where she comes from. She succeeds for the five years she lives in Mahair. The only time guilt plagues her is in her dreams, when her mother Niphran reminds her, “A kingdom cannot fall when its Heir still stands. You cannot outrun your duty, ya umri. It is an inheritance by blood” (43). Sylvia runs from her past, suppressing her memories of the past and hiding even from her fellow Jasadis. When she witnesses Adel’s death, she gives him Jasadi burial rites, but she doesn’t save his life. Afterwards, she hears Hanim’s voice in her head and notes, “Hanim wanted me to feel guilty for Adel’s death, to shake with righteous rage and a thirst for revenge, but all I felt was despair” (55). Sylvia “despairs” because she knows that she owes more to Jasad than she’s ready to give. She wants to save Adel, but she’s not ready to sacrifice herself for the life of another.
Sylvia questions her obligation after Arin asks her why she’s willing to compete in the Alcalah at the “cost of [her] own people,” and she answers, “Why should I owe them my life? Why is it acceptable for others to choose themselves, but it is selfish when I do it? I didn’t ask for this. I do not want it” (219). Sylvia carries the heavy burden of leadership, but she doesn’t want it. She would rather run, to survive even in a world that conspires to destroy her and her people. She calls herself “selfish,” demonstrating her continuing guilt even as she tries to justify prioritizing herself over Jasad. Rory reminds her that a true ruler “puts their people before themselves,” and when Sylvia claims she’s not selfless and not the ruler Jasad deserves, Rory tells her, “Altruism is no one’s nature. It wouldn’t be half as remarkable otherwise” (230). Rory understands Sylvia’s plight and what leadership will cost her; he’s seen firsthand the trauma she’s endured for the sake of survival, and he knows how much more pain she’ll endure as Essiya. He sees that she’s mired in shame for her self-professed selfishness, but he knows she’s capable of selflessness. He encourages her to imagine a future in which she can both survive and fulfill her leadership obligations. Sylvia struggles to implement a balance between avoiding death and fulfilling her duty to her people until the end of the novel, when she sacrifices her continued safety and freedom for Sefa and Marek. In doing so, she exposes herself as Essiya and sets in motion another war between Jasad and Nizahl, sacrificing her freedom and safety for others.



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