the spaces in between
random fact: it was in the course of writing this that I realised that it’s “taciturn”, not “tacticurn”
HUGE SPOILERS BOOK OF THE ANCESTOR (RED SISTER, GREY SISTER, HOLY SISTER)
so today I want to talk about Zole
so the Book of the Ancestor series is set in a world where the sun has dimmed enough that most of the terrestrial surface is covered in ice, leaving only a thin belt around the equator still able to support vegetation. political power in the nation that the protagonists belong to is split between the emperor and the church; part of the church’s coercive ability lies in the fact that monasteries and nunneries train warriors (red brothers/sisters), assassins (grey brothers/sisters), and this world’s version of mages (mystic brothers/sisters).
the protagonist is Nona, a street-urchin-turned-novice known for, among other things, her ferocity, speed, and loyalty. Zole is a novice from the ice tribes (those who range beyond the green belt and are able to survive by living off the ice) who is thought to be the Chosen One for reasons beyond the scope of this essay. anyway, they don’t get along at first, because Zole is kind of aloof and stoic (understatement).
one pivotal moment occurs in Path (magic) class, where Nona realises Zole doesn’t have threads, which are magical representations of an individual’s personality and motivations; a sufficiently skilled thread-worker effectively has the power of mind control. so, anyway, she announces that, and Mistress Path (the instructor) corrects her, saying that everything has threads, and it’s just that Zole’s surface threads are absent; Nona lacked the skill to see her deeper, more fundamental threads.
it’s revealed later that Zole’s tribe performed a ritual on her that separated out (what they saw as) her vices into physical form and then cast them into the fire. this ritual was performed repeatedly on promising children, but Zole went the furthest, and it accounts for why she’s so taciturn; her flaws, and with them parts of her personality, have literally been burnt away.
she then disappears for a long while, and comes back to do Chosen One things (unlock the orbital cannon, at a point where a bunch of people from another country are invading and it’s really important to get them to get lost). Nona wants to control the orbital cannon, but only Zole can authorise her to do so (note: raulathu is what the ice-tribes call the things they strip from the subjects of the ritual):
“But can you put them back as they were?”
“It would make you less pure, further from the Ancestor.” Zole watched her without judgment.
“Even so.” Nona leaned her head to expose her neck to Zole. “You’ve burned away all your sins and weaknesses, and it’s left you so distant from us you hardly care who lives and who dies. I can’t make a decision like this with my head full of broken pieces, but I can’t make it with those pieces gone either.” She met Zole’s grey eyes. “Please.”
…
Nona stood for a moment in blank amazement before finding her voice again. “Zole, tell this thing to obey me.” She approached the image. The counterattack had faltered and the remaining defenders were pressed against the walls. At points around the palace the Scithrowl were unopposed, deploying ladders and scaling chains against the battlements where the guards fought to throw them back.
“Why would I put such power in the hands of one who has yet to be shriven of a single raulathu? You are unformed clay, Nona Grey.”
“At least I care. At least it will hurt me, whatever decision I make. At least I’m terrified!” Nona defocused her eyes to see the thread-scape. She had learned to look far deeper than when she had tried that first day in Path Tower and declared that Zole had no threads. Sister Pan had been right to correct her. Everything had threads. Even now the water that comprised the bulk of Zole’s body had countless threads joining it to the world. But the threads that really mattered, the brightest ones that Nona had been unable to see on her first attempt, the threads that both described Zole and bound her to the people around her…those threads were more completely absent than they had ever been.
“In the end none of this will matter, Nona Grey.” Zole spread her hands. “Who will know our names in a hundred years? Who built the forest of stone upon the doorstep of Sweet Mercy? Change runs through everything. Perfection is the only constant.”
“It matters to me. Now.” Nona took Zole’s cool grey hands in her own, filthy with mud and blood. “You’re leaving us. I know that. I don’t know where you’re going. To join the Missing maybe. But you’re going. And it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re my friend, Zole. I would die for you. The least you can do is give me the moon.”
Nona wasn’t sure if she imagined the brief and tiny curl of Zole’s lips, but if the smile was imagined the order was not.
“Let Nona guide the moon.”
(emphasis mine)
this book (in fact, this entire series, and all his works) are a little rough. the worldbuilding can be patchy, the pacing uneven, the decisions unrealistic, and the turns of phrase odd. but not many books get me with the sheer raw realness of the relationships.
I can feel this. I can understand Zole’s loneliness on her journey, clad only in her sense of duty, juxtaposed against her hidden longing for a friend, despite how little Nona and Zole interacted on-screen (on-page?). Their relationship is defined not by the lines of their shared experiences, but the spaces in between. I have no better words to describe it than that. I got chills reading that scene, and I still revisit it once in a while.
there are so many missed opportunities; we never saw Mistresses Blade/Spirit fight, nor knew if Nona and Ara really entered into a relationship. what is Verity like? did Joeli ever shape up? how are Yaz and Zole related?
the author isn’t the kind of person to return to the universe (at least, not like that), so I don’t think any of these questions will ever be answered. what we got of the story will have to be enough.