Serpentine Squiggles

Before I explain the main plot, let me sketch the shape of the setting. Comets are spirits that form in the vacuum of space, accumulating sapience from the emissions of stars. Once they attain awareness, they tour the galaxy, drawn toward interesting planets, which serve as obstacle courses to test themselves against, and arenas to battle in.

Aurora’s planet was populated by nature spirits before there were any humans or human civilization. Even when there were humans, they served the spirits (more on this later), worshiping them as gods. But when a meteor lands, bearing meteoric iron, this starts to change. The iron is forged into tools. Spirits are weak to iron, and cannot wield tools (spirits have no hands).

Like that, humans begin to seize their own destiny. They learn how to enchant their tools, turning them into extensions of their being. The spirits prefer to have servants, and resist humanity’s autonomy and advance, leading to war between humans and spirits. Spirits are without question far more powerful than the first human enchanters, but I don’t think you’ll be surprised that tribal apes know more about warfare than the personification of a tree.

To the humans, it might even look like they win the war. The spirits, it’s more that they don’t like this game called ‘war’ very much, and they decide they want little to do with humans.

Now there’s two diverging “subplots” to humanity’s arc in this setting. One is that a obscure kingdom of humans discover the power of blood in enhancing enchantment (it essentially shortcircuits the extension‍-​of‍-​your‍-​will attunement that enchantment requires). They discover that they can enchant other humans, and invent magical slavery; they start to expand like an empire.

The other subplot is that a human falls in love with a spirit, and they have a half‍-​human half‍-​spirit child, a dryad. I’ve actually told part of this story on daybreaker’s server. What’s important is that this eventually leads to a institution of “greensires”, men who marry spirits.

Greensires adopt the peace‍-​loving attitude of the spirits, and as you can imagine this puts them in pretty big conflict with the monarchal slave empire. Another war starts.

Except, what’s that? It’s a dozen comets with a steel chair!

Yeah, the cometfall interrupts the conflict between the greensires and bloodslavers.

I think the best thing i’ve written that evokes the horror of the cometfall is a quote from the king that shows up later on this page. Suffice it to say, each comet is a walking apocalypse and horror story and jrpg final boss in one. The very nature of reality quivers and frays in their presence, all their light is searing radiation.

The cometfall was over a thousand years ago, and yet you can still see the wastelands and mountains molded like clay that are the testament to the passage of the comets.

Still, humans warred with nature spirits, and not all of them were docile‍ ‍—‍ could the most powerful enchanters stand up against comets?

No.

Humanity could run and hide and pray that the comets would find no amusement in rooting them out. It’s a fair bet; after all, the planet had plenty of great spirits and mountainous gembeasts to entertain them, and a comet’s chief interest is fighting other comets.

(Fun fact: there’s a classification system for gembeasts; pebbleweights that normal people can fight, ‘stoneweights’ that require enchanters to combat, ‘boulderweights’ that require great enchanters, and ‘mountainweights’. The mountainweights were like lumbering monuments, wonders of the world; there are no mountainweight gembeasts in the world any longer (unless you count the dragon of anterth), and the great spirits are few in number, all because of the comets.)

So, the comets are unnatural disasters. How did humanity survive?

Cyrex was a bloodcanter, a lord of the empire with some minor holdings. He took an exotic wife: Uluna was from an island and oceanfaring tribe that practiced a rare art of moonweaving.

Moonweaving studies the reflection of light; it’s a special way of manipulating it. Comets are light, and among all moonweavers Uluna’s personal enchantment was unique. [Mirror World: Lunar Light Prison] can cripple a comet’s power, reducing it to something that can be sealed and overpowered with human enchantments. It’s not a silver bullet, but it turns an impossible fight into one with a slim chance of victory.

I don’t want to spend too much time recounting the history, but you can see how when the cometfall is over, the comets “banished”, then Uluna and her husband, Cyrex, would become some of the most important people in the world, regarded with worshipful reverence.

The thing is, to recover from the devastation of the cometfall, they really needed the cooperation of the spirits, so Cyrex is advised to end the feuding between the greensires and the bloodslavers.

The bloodslave spell is outlawed, bloodcanting in general is forbidden without heavy oversight (a distinction is invented between “lifecanting” and “bloodcanting”, largely based on whether the right people are doing it.)

On the other hand, though, greensire marriages become rigid and contractual, an instrument of control. If a spirits agrees to something, it will not violate it, and by this logic, spirits are married off to men en mass to bind them into servitude to the human ambition of reconstsruction. The church develops doctrine that amounts to a belief that spirits and dryads ought to be good wives and little more.

With nature spirits reconciled with humans, something like prosperity starts to thrive.

But the most important development, for what we’re here to talk about today, is that the cometfall did have one thin silver lining: struggling to keep up with those monsters pushed the limit of what human enchanters were capabale of, particularly bloodcanters and their care of the human body.

And who reaped the rewards of this? The savior of humanity, of course: Cyrex.

He never died. A thousand years later, and he still sits on the throne. The king of extola is immortal.

Now, for context, master enchanters since have lived for centuries, but none have matched Cyrex’s longevity. You can feel that he’s different, just by being near. Every man, woman, and child near him flushes with new vigor; wheezing lungs drew clear breaths, weak and trembling limbs stand still and strong, aches are snuffed like candles. And his mastery of earthcanting is sufficent that he straightens roads just by walking upon them.

He is king, and he is beloved.

But enough about the final boss, let’s talk about the protagonist.

By now, you’ve probably already guessed the first big twist of Aurora Moonrise. In the beginning, Aurora assumes her mother was special‍ ‍—‍ and she was.

But when Aurora arrives at Willowind, she encounters a friar who scapegoats her, accusing her of being a cometspawn, an unnatural spirit that brought forth the magical storm which visited ruin upon the town. this turns the townfolk against her, but she’s pulled away from the agitated mob by the mentor character (Tressa, she’s the one who shows up right at the end of the last published chapter), along with a central supporting character who shows up on their journey to town (Morri).

As the first act progresses, other hints get dropped; when Aurora is hurt, Morri can’t use her bloodcanting spells to heal her; the two of them overhear Tressa praying in a way that suggests she’s carrying out the last wish of Aurora’s mother, cassiopeia.

After the climax of the act, Aurora gets to witness a vision of her mother giving birth to her, and what is immediately apparent is cassiopeia’s alien majesty; she shines with the eldritch light of a comet, and Tressa was enchanted by it. That enchantment is what has sustained Tressa’s life all these years since (the mentor has anime mom disease in the form of a withering gray magical infection).

(An interesting detail to note is that in the vision, Cassiopeia is imprisoned in a royal dungeon; Tressa has come to rescue her, but Cassiopeia refuses to leave with her, instead urging her to take her daughter. But I digress)

The reveal, then, is that Aurora is half human half comet‍ ‍—‍ a cometspawn, just as accused.

Once this is realized, most of the book is spent with Aurora trying to hide her nature, with the understanding that if the world knew she was a cometspawn, the church and the crown would hunt her down.

It comes as a bit of surprise, then, that the climax of book one is as simple as Aurora dueling the friar that accused her, and when she beats him and spares his life, the king simply declares that Aurora is a citizen in good standing. His word is law, and that’s that. So mote it be

I’ll quote two passages from later conversations he has with Aurora during her brief stay in the royal palace

“Aurora, my child, do you know how much a lion must eat, each day he draws breath?” he asks. [note to self: look this up and insert the figure. Or maybe it’s more fitting if he just makes up a number?]

“That’s a lot.”

“Indeed. It is a sad fact of this world that the greatest beings can only exist at the expense of so many below them. When you gaze upon a palace, you gaze upon the den of the lions of men, and there are many hares they must eat. I don’t say this to excuse all of them. There are gluttons and braggarts, fools in gold whom I would like nothing more than to strip them of their title and everything else and give them a taste of the mud. And I am sure, such an act would make so many peasants very glad indeed. Yet those with such fevor would be most pleased to see every noble cast down, or slaughtered outright. Do you agree?”

“I guess they can’t be all bad…”

He nods. “In this world, there must be lions. Put crudely, with nothing to prey upon them, rabbits would breed like mad, and starve the earth of the very plants they depend on. Even the predator exists for the good of the prey‍ ‍—‍ and nobles do not eat their peasants. But you asked me about storms, did you not?”

And this quote more clearly illustrates why he gave Aurora his legal blessing:

“Everything born of human blood ought to have my blessing. Whether they be demihuman, dryad, or even cometspawn, do we not have the same hearts? Do we not all bleed red?”

He smiles at Aurora. “And you, my dear, bleed red.”

“So, I’m not a monster?”

“Alas, some monsters are human. But you’re no more or less a human because of what your mother was. Do you know why I spoke that law into being? Why I chose to include cometspawn in my blessing?”

“I don’t know. A lot of people think every cometspawn is a harbinger of death and ruin.”

“Yet I have not lost faith in them. Why? Because I knew that one day, a child like you would come along. A girl that, despite being the daughter of a comet, has kindness in her heart, feels a duty to protect in her bones. A girl who would spare a man who had brought her so much pain and torment, just out of love for human life. There may be a hundred monstrous cometspawn, but if there is one Aurora, then I would give them all the benefit of the doubt and the chance to redeem themselves of their inhumanity.”

But a more interesting examination of his thought process comes a a bit later, in an epilogue chapter from the pov of a dryad that choose to serve the crown rather than the church. (Fun fact, this dryad is the sister of Kheimon, the scheming villain of book one)

But to quote that snippet:

“Your majesty, I do not know what came over me, but I have failed you. I disobeyed your orders, and allowed Aurora to escape with Morri. I submit myself to whatever punishment you deem fit.”

“Rise, knight Auxesia. I have only one question: why? What convinced you?”

“She wanted it, your majesty. I… she made an appeal I could not help but be persuaded by.”

“Does she remind you of yourself?”

“Indeed, your majesty.”

“I understand. Page, let it be recorded that the hero Aurora brought the murderer Morri to justice. That will be the end of it. Auxesia, you may return to your post with no further incident.”

“What? Excuse this one, but I do not understand, your majesty.”

“Do you know what differentiates us from the rock beneath our feet, dryad? From spirits? From comets?”

“Our blood?”

“Our hearts which pulse with that blood! Attunement… the connection that makes all enchanting possible… it comes from the heart.”

“I still do not understand, your majesty.”

“Think! What thrills the heart deepest of all? Love! I wanted to her to be taught here… but if young Aurora is to learn the meaning of being human, perhaps that demihuman girl will be a better teacher than any of us.”

“A murderer? A witch?”

“I dare hope Aurora’s soul is pure enough not to be astrayed to those wicked ways. But if she is? Well… so be it.”

“So be it?” she asks. “Your majesty?”

“Certainly, it is better for us to have another mere human villain on our hands than a monstrous comet.”

Auxesia can’t hide the shock on her face.

“I can sense the question in your heart, dryad. Speak it. I will allow it.”

“My king… you say you hope. But what do you think it likely? Every… every single cometspawn has proven monstrous.”

Cyrex laughs. It’s a hearty chuckle. “Cometspawn? Monstrous? How soft we grown in this age. I welcome it. But study the histories. I was there, I can attest. I remember the cometfall. That was the end of the world. I have heard the cries of armies, as ice fell upon human flesh like locusts. Crops blighted by the mere sight of alien light that corrodes the senses. Destruction wrought upon cities so complete that in this days, I look upon gemfiends as friends. That, my child, is monstrous. In my eyes, cometspawn are mere villains. Troublemakers.”

“They say…” she trailed off and stopped.

“Continue. I will not punish you.”

“They say that for dryads, human flesh is a mere chrysalis for a new spirit. Death, a mere change of forms.”

“I find the very notion repugnant. Do you not cherish life, Auxesia? True life?”

“I don’t mean to question the gift of a human heart. Only to ask… well, there is a certain similarity between a dryad and a cometspawn. And if the comparison holds…”

“You’re asking if we should expect the birth of a new comet, should Aurora die or relinquish herself?”

A mute nod.

“Do recall how the cometfall ended, my child. The first comets nearly brought the end of the word… because we were unprepared, we knew nothing. But I am king because of my wisdom. Now, we know. I know. If a new comet threatens the kingdom of Extola? If dear Aurora proves to be truly monstrous?”

Utter silence. Anticipation. When the king spoke, his voice was the law above all laws.

“I will simply destroy her.”

Anyway the climatic battle of book two is against a newly fallen comet, Vela. I actually talk about her a bunch in one of the side rambles published on the site. Another character I talk about in a side ramble is Lucien Aetheart, a human prince who’s also a mentor figure to Aurora (book one has this really funny structure where there’s a revolving door of mentor figures for Aurora each arc.)

That second side ramble explains what happens to Lucien in the book one epilogue, but a major subplot of book two is that, after the first timeskip, nobody knows what happened to the prince. Another major character joins the party and her overarching motivation is tracking him down.

Most of the plot of book two involves rooting out and fighting a cult that’s wormed its way into various towns throughout the kingdom. (The cult ends up summoning the comet Aurora fights at the end).

Along the way, Aurora has a few encounters with a female cultist (a dryad named Myrka). This cultist progresses in power in parallel with Aurora, this rivalry with romantic tension type deal.

(Fun note: in book one’s second act, the party kills a baron (revealed to have been making deals with the cult). He had had gloves enchanted so that he could punch they earth and make giant earthen hands, Major Armstrong style. In the cult arc, they encounter a cultist who’d stolen the baron’s magic gloves and now wields them. Similarly, Myrka wields Lucien’s magic ring, and only smirks when Aurora demands to know where she got it. This is a major clue that the cult probably has something to do with Lucien’s disappearance – but did they kill him, or capture him?)

Finally, in the book two epilogue, Aurora is lowkey considering giving up adventuring altogether. Remember, one of her earlier character motivations was defeating a comet. When she finally got a chance to fight a comet, she ate shit and got a bunch of people killed.

There’s a motif that gets introduced early on in the series. But first, some context. One of the themes of book one is establishing a deep conflict between humans and nature spirits. In the second act, the friar who initially scapegoated Aurora teams up with a manipulative nature spirit (named Kheimon) who lowkey seduces him.

An important lore point: nature spirits and dryad have strange beauty to their innate light. Alien, eldritch, but if comets are eldritch horror, nature spirits are eldritch wonder. The light of comet drives men mad; light of nature spirits enthralls them.

(Unrelated, but a related concept that would have been introduced soon (I.e. if “Flash V” were ever written) is the concept of beauty‍-​scorching. If you witness that enthralling light and resist it, it scars your eyes and face. Tressa bears beauty‍-​scorching.)

Anyway, the enthrallment mechanic comes up in a few ways in book one;

Anyway, all of this is to reinforce a tension between nature spirits and humans; a nature spirit is an immortal being that lives by soaking up sunlight and cultivates this objective, ontologically‍-​significant inner beauty; they are metaphysically privileged, and don’t grasp human qualms like freedom, struggle, death, etc.

Anyway, the aforementioned motif is something like, “men toil while spirits frolic over gardens and graves.” It’s said with the same declartive tone as “it is the fate of comets to dazzle and destroy.”

Why this matters is that in the book two epilogue, Aurora encounters an a dryad, calling themselves Erato.

In a way, they are another variation on this theme. They are unique among dryads; they’re essentially a sex worker? They dance erotically for spirits, other dryads, men, etc. And dance with them too, and this dancing seamlessly verges on outright sex, but it’s more athletically involved. More importantly, it’s magical; these dances are an enchantment. Erato’s a good conversationalist, too, and thus spending a night with them is often outright therapeutic.

And, depressed after losing to vela, Aurora spends a night with Erato. It doesn’t get explicit; sex is another one of the human things that Aurora just doesn’t get (fun fact: by the start of book two, Morri’s at the point of making out with and spooning with Aurora, and Aurora’s just thinking, well this must be what good friends do!)

So yeah, Aurora & Erato’s dance is more of a play fight because that’s what Aurora’s into. They talk, and it’s clear that Erato is an extremely skilled enchanter, more than a match for Aurora with two books’ worth of power development.

Anyway, Aurora opens up about her frustrations with adventuring, how she isn’t strong enough to reach her goals. Not even Knight‍-​Commander Novus, the third strongest enchanter in the kingdom, was strong enough to stand against that comet. Maybe Aurora should just give up.

And Erato supports this. But it’s not just empty support; Erato understands her frustration better than anyone. Unlike so many dryads, Erato doesn’t seem oblivious to what life is like for common men. It’s nasty, brutish and short, and their hunger for tyranny and war seems inexhaustible. Erato finds it so much more fulfilling to dance with the spirits and dryads; it’s as if they thirst instead for peace and splendor

And yet, there’s something about this reassurance that bothers Aurora. Erato is better than her, stronger than her, Aurora felt that much while playfighting her. And what end does Erato use all their strength for? Frolicking in meadows while people are dying?

Aurora doesn’t want to be like her. Even if she’d never be as strong as a comet, she knew she could at least be stronger than a dryad that languishes in dancing and empty pleasure.

But I digress

Just like book one, book two ends with various interlude‍-​epilogues showing off how other character’s plot threads develop. This is where the story once again touches on the topic of Myrka. In book two’s second act, she grew disillusioned from the cult, and helped Aurora by sabotaging it from the inside. She was last seen in the third act leading a band of a few other disillusioned followers, delaying Novus so that Aurora could fight vela without his intervention. (Ironically, this is because they thought Novus would be no match for the comet.)

Now, in the book two’s batch of epilogues, Myrka doesn’t get one per se. However, we do get an interlude from Cinder, a flame spirit Lucien befriended in book one and promised to burn down the kingdom with‍ ‍—‍ Myrka makes an offer of recruitment.

Then there’s are girl who has the same powers as the famed daughters of the moon: Cynthe. She was abducted from her native people by the kingdom, and they got nuked when they took issue with the kingdom doing this. Now the kingdom keeps her in a gilded cage, forcing her to use the moon magic for the kingdom’s benefit and grooming her to eventually have enough children to repopulate the moonflower court that died out when Aurora’s mom disappeared. Myrka comes to rescue her from the kingdom’s abusive clutches.

Then there’s a girl who was an ancient empire’s attempt at creating an artificial comet: Galatea the shining idol. She’s now buried deep in the the empire’s ruins. Myrka unearths her, and gives her purpose.

Finally, if you read the Novus Versus Vela write up, you know the their fight ends with Vela sustaining critical damage, her icy body utterly demolished. She’s barely able to find a seclude body of water to mend her wounds and cling to life. While immersing herself in deep meditation, repairing her crystalline body with the sun’s light, she’s disturbed. Someone has come, and makes an offer to her.

You probably get the idea. Mykra is putting together the avengers in this post‍-​credits interlude.

But I really, really digress. Let’s move on.

There’s another timeskip while Aurora resumes training, and by the start of book three, the party discovers that Somehow, the cult has returned. In particular, they’re operating on another, nearby continent which the kingdom is in the process of colonizing. (Lucien’s interlude in book one, recounting in his write up, gave a glimpse at how fucked it is, and he rebelled against the injustice)

Anyway, Aurora and her powerful new party sweep in to assault the cult’s new headquarters… and they get owned. They go up against Cinder, Cynthe, and Galatea, and they’re no match. They don’t even merit the attention of whoever it directing the cult now.

They end up needing the kingdom’s help to defeat the cult; in fact, the kingdom sends a whole army.

Now, you may be thinking it’s perhaps not the best thing, morally speaking, to team up with an tyrannical imperial power to help them conqueror a sovreign land, slaughtering the resistance group that’s providing safety to its people.

Anyway, with the kingdom’s help, their military campaign is poised to reach the boss chambers of the cult’s new headquarters. The cult realizes this, and the leader reaches out to Aurora’s party for an audience, to talk this over and avoid unneeded bloodshed.

What’s funny is that this message comes in the form of a vision‍ ‍—‍ the same sort of visions that Aurora had a bunch in book two, in the lead up to fighting a comet.

Anyway, the cult leader wants to meet Aurora’s party and only Aurora’s party. No negotiations with the invading kingdom

Aurora refuses cuz, yknow, she’s working with the kingdom now, and this kind of breaks the chain of command thing they’ve drilled in her. (Aurora always found it simpler to follow clear rules). Besides, if they don’t come to an agreement with the cult leader, the kingdom finding out about the secret meeting could sacrifice everything. In fact, this is probably a trick or trap of some sort!

When Aurora awakes in the morning, all of her party is gone, except for Kheimon. (Morri isn’t a part of this arc at all‍ ‍—‍ she just couldn’t accept working with the kingdom, bc she was raised by outlaws and witches and she’s part of a minority the kingdom oppresses)

Anyway, you’re probably wondering why Kheimon’s there. Wasn’t she the antagonist of book one?

The story with her is that her family kind of sold her off to the cult after Aurora unraveled her scheming in book one and left her in disgrace? She was imprisoned and abused by the cult, and halfway through book two, Aurora rescued her.

(She’s still toxic and manipulative, of course, so the rest of book two was her gaslighting Aurora and driving wedges between her and the rest of the party, making her emotionally dependent on Kheimon)

Anyway, what happened is the cult leader contacted all of the party members separately, and convincing them to meet her; only Aurora and Kheimon refused. Clearly, Kheimon’s the only one Aurora can trust

Aurora’s hurt by their betrayal, but more importantly, she cares about saving her friends more than following the kingdom’s orders, and she thinks they’re in danger.

So Kheimon comes up with a plan: they’ll meet the cult leader pretending to be receptive to whatever offer they’re going to make, but really planning to either attack them by surprise, or just rescue the party, whichever they can pull off.

Now, Aurora killed the original leader of the cult in book two, so you probably aren’t surprised to learn that the new leader of the cult is in fact Myrka.

And now we’re getting to the reveal that i’ve spilled all this ink to try and convey to you.

Lucien joined the cult thinking they were his best bet to find a way to beat the kingdom. They were doing blasphemous things with blood magic and spirit light, forbidden things, but it could lead to incredible power. The first cult leader claimed he died and come back to life, and he’d teach his followers how to replicate his feat. Lucien thought he needed immortality to beat immortality, so this is where he looked.

The cult grinds him and his ideals down, of course. But one of the cult’s projects was an attempt to create dryads a different way. Normally, a greensire binds a nature spirit in marriage and their child is a dryad. Dryads are flesh imbued with spiritual light‍ ‍—‍ but must you be born with it? Could it be implanted?

This is where Lucien meets Kheimon. They had dissected her, trying to find a way to extract and steal her light, and it just wasn’t working. Lucien was assigned to clean up after the vivisectors each day they worked.

And Lucien shows Kheimon kindness, cares for her, gifts her things she can hide in her cell and enjoy in secret. And he listens to her. She rants about how much she hates humanity, how much more innately good dryads and spirits are, and Lucien nods along; at this point, seeing all this, how could he deny it?

Any cultist working on this project is instructed to wear enchanted glasses at all times to protect them from the enthralling light of dryads.

But eventually, Lucien takes his off and truly looks at Kheimon. You see, she wanted to show him a vision, a memory, of how much more joyful life among spirits was.

And these meetings become Lucien’s reprieve from the abuses of the cult. They were doing awful things to him and to others, but if he could sit and enjoy the bliss‍-​giving light of Kheimon, he could make it through.

Then something changes. The fruit of this connection is that the thing the cultists are trying, finally, works‍ ‍—‍ or rather, Kheimon lets it work, but only for Lucien. She gives her light to him. The thing the cultist were missing? Spiritual light, lux, is nothing more than distilled will and intent: it cannot be taken without consent. Kheimon consents to Lucien alone.

And like this, Lucien transitions into a dryad; his features become more feminine and slightly alien. There was an ache, a sadness, an incompleteness that had haunted Lucien all his life; he had ignored it if he ever acknowledged it, striven to achieve what he could in spite of it, and even convinced himself that he could be happy, or at least content following whatever ambition’s he’d set out for himself.

But this, looking in the mirror and seeing a round, fair figure, flowers emerging from rivers of hair, a face painted in a ladylike style, bearing a genuine smile?

This had been something that was long, long needed. And she has no need of the name Lucien now; certainly not with when she’d long ago stopped intending to play the role of prince. No, she was Myrka the heretic.

When Aurora rescues Kheimon, Myrka is happy for her, but this presents a problem. Without Kheimon providing the light, Myrka cannot produce it on her own. Thus, she learns to seduce other dryads and spirits, sustain herself on their light.

When she finally comes around and helps Aurora complete the work of dismantling the cult, she indulges completely in Kheimon’s vision. She frolics over gardens and graves and she calls herself Erato

And her path crosses once again with Aurora, of course, and Aurora decisively rebuts Erato’s chosen lifestyle completely. Aurora’s motivation to continue adventuring was renewed, and Myrka’s ambition is rekindled, too. Mykra goes to find Cinder. After all, they had made a promise that they’d burn down the kingdom together. It’s time to get to work.

Finally, Myrka encounters Vela on death’s door, struggling to heal herself. Myrka had a deep, intimate (literally) understanding of spiritual light. She had studied the cult’s theories, she’d put them into practice, and now with over a year of reflection and refinement, she can push it father. Most importantly, Myrka knew of Aurora and her nature as a cometspawn. She’d gotten a good look at her spiritual makeup as Erato. What does all of this mena?

Well you see, Myrka’s offer to Vela wasn’t recruitment, it was fusion.

No longer would Myrka need to service dryads to get the light she needs to maintain herself, not if Vela becomes a part of her. Comets need the vaccuum of space to properly form, that’s why Vela can barely heal herself. But by sealing herself in Myrka’s body, she could feel whole again.

This is who’s leading the cult by the start of book three. A prince turned dryad turned cometspawn turned prophetess. Transcending to apotheosis by her own will and scheming. She would halt the kingdom’s colonialism in its tracks, and then with the power of a comet and a master enchanter‍ ‍—‍ with a team consisting of a flame spirit, a moonweaver, and a artifical comet at her back‍ ‍—‍ she could fight Cyrex and win

And why, exactly, does Aurora stand against this? Because she had a rivalry with Myrka and wanted to test her strength? Because she’s surrounded by people telling her she’s the hero, and the cult is clearly the villains? Because she lost, and she’s doing whatever she can to get a win, to shore up her insecurity after she failed to beat Vela?

Is it any wonder that, when Myrka laid out all the facts, her party chose the visionary over the out‍-​of‍-​touch cometspawn wrapped around the finger of a dryad whispering venom in her ear?

One final betrayal: you’ll recall that Kheimon trusted Lucien long before she’d come around to Aurora. So fittingly, she didn’t actually refuse for Aurora’s sake‍ ‍—‍ no, she refused so that she could be there to convince Aurora to run ahead of the kingdom and confront Myrka on her terms anyway. Not even Kheimon had actually stood by her.

Thus, this confrontation with Myrka is a dissection of Aurora’s character, and how it shatters under this challenge. Aurora loses badly.

Now, a whole lot of stuff happens in book three, but as we move toward the endgame, the major plot direction to be aware of is that Aurora sort of disassociates from her humanity entirely, and gains more comet abilities such as flight. I’m skipping over huge plot points here (she fights another comet in low earth orbit!)

But the important thing is that soon Aurora flies away from the kingdom and her old party, journeying alone to the east and exploring the far reaches of the world. It’s a journey of self discovery and self reconstruction.

While Aurora is fucking off on other continents, Myrka is doing the hard work to improve the world. She lays the groundwork for her eventual toppling of Cyrex’s regime.

But let’s skip to the confrontation is this all about. Aurora comes back on the eve of battle as the revolution lays seige to the capital of the kingdom. This battle has so many moving pieces, but what we’re here to talk about is when all of the knights and court enchanters have been defeated, and Cyrex is finally moved to action.

So far, i’ve beat skipping a lot of action description (e.g. did you know Myrka’s cult headquarters is giant crystal tree?)‍ ‍—‍ but I feel compelled to gesture at the scale and spectatacle of Cyrex in battle. He’s the most powerful enchanter, he’s hundreds of years old. His gravitas loci (⸢Blood and Soil⸥) can lift miles‍-​wide chunks of land to float under his command, and through blood magic, it grants him control over nearly every citizen of the kingdom; enough to force them to kneel

I’ll start quoting from the notes I wrote a year and a half ago, sketching of how the final confrontation could go

“You wanted an audience with us, your majesty?”

“Only a question.” Cyrex sits on his throne, still, and twirls a scepter of blood. “What, pray tell, are you things here to do?”

“I’m here to finish what my mother started,” Aurora says.

The king only laughs. “Is that so? And what exactly is that?”

“What else?” Myrka says. “Unseat you from you throne. The time for monarchs has ended.”

“Said the prince. But you’re not Lucien anymore, are you?”

“My name is Myrka.”

“That’s hardly a name at all. You are Lucien’s flesh possessed, deluded, corrupted. But I suppose the details don’t matter. I should have had you killed years ago. But I am always patient with my judgments. After all, I have all the time in the world.”

Myrka looked around with the eyes of a comet, as if surveying this planet for the first time. “A small world, isn’t it? So very, very small, in the end. You can’t conceive of true immortality, the vastness of the eternal stars. In this universe, you are like an ant, a parasitic little termite. And the king of a termite mound is still only an insect.”

“How haughty. But at least you know what you are. Comets,” he spat “Your kind ruins everything. This kingdom willl never be safe until all of you are destroyed, snuffed out like errant candles.”

“But we aren’t comets,” Aurora says. “We’re something better! Cometspawn, wielding the light beyond the stars bound by the warmth of mortal flesh. With this power, we’re going to save everyone!”

“No, no,” says the king as if chiding a child. “That’s simply the lie we told you. But lying to you could never change your nature, it would seem, so you need not believe it any longer. You are comets, and you will do nothing save burn away as you fly and bring ruin where you land. Dazzle and destroy. Nothing more, in the end.”

“Comets can learn to love,” Aurora starts, “I—”

“No, they cannot! Cassiopedia, Vela, the time for this charade has ended. At least do me the dignity of fighting your defeat without delusion.”

“My mother—” “My partner—”

“Yourselves! Don’t you see? Cometspawn are myth, a lie, a theory that failed in experiment. Do you really think dirty snowballs, those lumps of frost and rock, could breed with humans? Could ever learn to? Have you ever wondered why no cometspawn you’ve ever met or ever heard of has known the comet that supposedly birthed them? Because they are their parent. Childbirth is a joke, a game, a mere change of form for them. Comets can’t reproduce, they aren’t alive! We created the cometspawn! Your mother didn’t come here to overthrow me, she came to beg me to save her wretched abomination that was her abortive attempt to bear a child. And I did so, not out of any kindness for her kind, but because she had used human seed to build you, and I thought it might have grown up to be a human, or at least learn to act like one! We thought we could temper your kinds’ nature, teach you. We tried and it is now clear that we cannot. So be it. I have taught you much, Vela, Cassiopeia, and your final lesson is death. Let us begin.”

Anyway, despite his decripit age, the king is limber and moves fast. He attacks with blood, so much blood, wielding weapons forged of it. Even when the protagonists go all out, with three books worth of ever‍-​escalating power, it’s not enough.

“I’m not mere mortal, he says. My title is not hubris. Do you know what we’ve been building? Do you know what I am? My purpose? How I am able to sleep at night, keep believing I truly have the good of this kingdom in my heart? I am a weapon for killing comets. Beasts of gemstone, spirits of comet, spirits of weather, spirits of nature… What place has man in a world where the greatest powers, the gods and rulers, are alien to their very core? We needed to even the playing field, we have to stand up and assert ourselves, carve out a place not as servants to these aliens, not existing at their pity or amusement, but existing because we will it. That’s what we’ve tried to built. That is what I am. I, King Cyrex of the realm, heart of this kingdom and first immortal, am the human spirit!”

Soon, the king’s source of power is revealed: he’s harvested hundreds of human hearts to attune together into a giant array, a pulsating ocean of blood from which he can endlessly regenerate. This is no dark seecret: these hearts are, by and large, the hearts of people who loved the king and would sacrifice themselves for him.

The reason Cyrex is immortal and no one else is that you must end a life to sustain a life, and this kingdom simply could not sustain a second immortal on willing sacrifices alone.

Cyrex’s mastery of flesh is so complete and elemental he can strip the mortal forms from the two girls, revealing them as what they truly are: comets fighting to burn up in destructive glory. Aurora is unaffected, being true cometspawn, but Myrka had not completed her transition, and is greatly weakened.

The battle continues (I’m glossing over beats you have no context for)‍ ‍—‍ but eventually Cyrex pulls out an attack that have no defence against: the moonbeam rapier, enchanted with the same magic Uluna used against in the cometfall. Even a light, glancing blow is devasting.

“Is this sting familiar? It was this blade that cut the baby of you.”

The blade is exceptionally effective against comets, tearing their light away from them. As the moon rises, the blade only gets more powerful, enchantments waxing.

“Wretched spawn of the void, to void you return. You. mean. nothing!”

But when Cyrex brings down a full power slash against Aurora, Mykra throws herself in the way of the attack‍ ‍—‍ the selflessness surprises him‍ ‍—‍ and now she’s falling to pieces. Aurora tries to save her, Myrka’s light fades yet still shines, but she’s in too many fragments, her mind is degenerating without her flesh.

At this, the king pauses his assault, perhaps puzzled by the imitation of grief. “I am patient, gracious. I’ll give you time to mourn, if you’re at all capable of it.” But, even as her light leaks away, Myrka isn’t completely gone. Maybe Aurora could save her, if she was better, more knowledgeable, more willful. But she can’t. She’s not strong enough; as always, she’s a failure.

And now, Aurora begins to sing a lament, a threnody. She reaches deep, tries to remember what was the core of Myrka’s being. Lucien was defined by death‍ ‍—‍ death of his parents, death of those he couldn’t save, his sworn vow to eliminate death. And now Myrka is dying.

Aurora’s light flares as she casts her ultima canto, (another thing I can’t get into.)

All around, the people of the kingdom can look at Aurora grieving her fellow comet, and recognize the emotion, be stirred to tears by the alien lament. Everyone has lost someone to death. Even right now, at this very battle, there are hundreds of dying wills fading away just like Myrka. Like this, there’s a great attunement. This song Aurora sings‍ ‍—‍ it’s nothing less than the ultima canto of Myrka herself!

And this spell is what’s capable of completing her fragmented being, restoring her mind, its pieces resonating back into place. Myrka comes glowing back to life, shining with the frozen light of a comet that assumes human form simply because it can, and Myrka grins at the king she once called greatfather.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Cyrex asks.

“Something… better. You call yourself a human spirit? I was human once. But I dreamed of something more than humanity, something better. Not content to sit on a throne while thousands suffer, not content to let others bow to my feet as slaves. Humans are beasts, little more than animals. There’s a glimmer of something more, struggling to shine through the mud that engulfs us. I don’t idealize that mud. I idealize the light. I want to dream of more, and if that’s alien, then fuck the familiar. I… am… the light that comes after.” Her features set into something vicious and inevitable. “But for you, so‍-​called king, simply look into my eyes. To you, who clings so tightly to your humanity, who calls yourself immortal, I am simply your death.”

The king, and every heart that supported him, at once falls still. He dies as a puppet, a figurehead, with his strings cut.

Tired, Myrka falls to earth and Aurora descends with her. They collapses into each others’ arms, their light frozen in each other’s embrace.