Soo… I just finished Bloodline, and ever since I finished book 2 I have had this theory that Eithan is Ozriel. I mean, the people giveing me the books (more on that later) were so freaking tight-lipped about it and didn’t give any answer or evidence to either side of the argument. So here I am, searching for positive affirmation from unknown internet strangers before starting Reaper or so i have been told the “twist ending book”. The title and the whole warning about spoilers concerning it from other fans has been keeping me away from fan sites and stuff so now, let this stand as proof! Proof of my amazing deductive abilities! Proof that I am always right and the hours I spent awake at night weren’t for naught!! Eithan is Ozriel and if I am wrong let this stand as record of my shame and hubris but if I am right however, let this stand of my amazing intellect!
reasons why Ozriel=Eithan
Soul smith- he noticed suriels marble despite it appearing insignificant to other people, he notes that it was made by someone at his level and framing suriel made it so yeah, I don’t think I need to farther with that
physical appearance, enough said
their goals: Eithan wants to take the crew with him to the “end” presumably the Abidian. Ozriel needs strong people to help him fuck stuff up with Makiel and change how the Abidian works
timeline- Ozriel has been gone for like centuries that is more than enough time for him to set up a fake identity as his own defendant besides, we never learned Eithan origins besides him being and advisor to tiberian Aurelius. Where are his parents? If he has any then he could have brought them up in sympathy for Lindon while they were going to save his.
Matching marbles- I find it weird that Eithan somehow found and unlocked ozriels message, unless cuz hear me out he knew where it was.
eithan has always been hesitant about his advancement and growing too strong too fast, or showing his true power to anyone.
he already knew all his revelations, all of them it wasn’t brought up but he knew his revelation for overlord and advanced to arch lord immediately after. How did he knew both revelations at once?
He knows too much and his path is really just perfect.
After two months or three — it was easy to lose time here, Elgar found, with so little to worry about that wasn’t contained between them — the Crown appeared at the estate.
They were noticeably pregnant now, and like them, had come to rest until they were better, because they weren’t feeling particularly great. Their family came with them — Queen Kaara and little toddling Zovri.
Orafin immediately offered to leave, leave the house, which, as far as Elgar was concerned, was easily big enough for all of them, their plentiful staff, and probably three or four families more, for the royal palace in Atcill, so they would have the house to themselves.
»We are better. I should get back to work,« he said as they sat together with the Crown for an afternoon snack. Sweets and the tart tea that grew in the mountains here. The prince’s signs were becoming more and more fluid, although he still missed words every now and again, and with courtiers quickly catching on, he relied less and less on Elgar for translations.
He had yet to dismiss Elgar as useless, though. His affection seemed unchanged, and Elgar was grateful for it.
»You’re not going back to work yet, Fin.« The Crown sat back, absent-mindedly placing a hand on their belly as they scrutinized their brother.
What work did a prince even have to do? They — both of them — were waited on hand and foot. It still felt eerie. Elgar occupied his hands with the slice of orange cake on the fragile porcelain, an import from the queen’s home, before him. Ever since he had mentioned how much he loved it, it had become a regular occurrence. It was so easy. Everything was so easy.
Well, not everything. Especially now that the Crown was here. They had yet to hurt him in any way, but he still couldn’t relax around them.
The prince gave a dissatisfied little hum. »What about you?«
The Crown sighed. »I’m not working either, as you might have noticed.« They looked even more dissatisfied than the prince.
»Not true. You get your mail here. And so on.« The prince reached for his slate, as was becoming rarer and rarer, as if he was going to list all the ways in which the Crown violated their claim.
»Okay, well, I can’t wholly abandon the kingdom.«
Satisfied with their confession, the prince dropped the slate again. »And you’re baking a human.«
The Crown tapped a finger against his chest. »Yes. And you are healing.«
The prince looked undecided whether he should continue arguing, and to Elgar’s dismay, the Crown turned to him. »What about you, Elgar?« Their voice was gentle. »Do you feel better?«
Elgar crumbled what was left of his cake. »Yes, your Majesty. Thank you.« It was true, after all. He felt better. And if the prince decided he wanted to go back to his ordinary life, well, then Elgar was ready to go with him, even though it filled him with trepidation, knowing so little about what that would even entail.
The Crown eyed him a moment, before they turned toward their brother again. They flinched when something bumped inside their belly.
»Are you okay?« the prince asked immediately. Elgar suspected he was glad for an excuse to turn the conversation further on the state of the Crown.
»I’m handling it.«
He looked worried, laying a hand on their sibling’s other before speaking again. »It’s over soon.«
The Crown’s lips quirked. »I think I’ll have to pop out a few more.«
Elgar caught himself staring, but it was the prince who answered. »You don’t have to do that to yourself.«
»There needs to be an heir. And if…« They exhaled softly.
»The others will have children.«
»Still. Five seems like a good number, don’t you think?« They smiled slightly, and flicked his nose. »Where would we be if our parents had stopped at four?«
*
You would have been spared a lot of heartache. The thought sprang into Orafin’s mind unbidden. That wasn’t remotely what Ozriel had meant, he knew that. But it was true — the months of believing him dead, the trouble of taking care of him in the state he was in when he returned, the worry of whether he would ever be okay again, able to attend to his duties.
And now he was — he thought he was — and Ozriel wouldn’t even let him.
It was true he startled from nightmares, sometimes, in which he crawled towards a border infinitely far away, dragging his broken legs, Elgar’s cries of pain behind himself as he abandoned him. He couldn’t even cry into Elgar’s shoulder when he woke from them, choked with shame, like he did on other occasions. It was no mystery where the nightmares came from. It should have been him, the prince, saving Elgar, not the unfortunate, miraculously kind soul risking everything for an uncertain future for his sake.
He should be doing his job, at least now. He didn’t think he could return to the front, and he knew Ozriel would never ask him to; probably even the people wouldn’t call it unjust — he had served, after all. But there was so much work to do: administration, logistics, even charity. He could do something. He should do something.
The warm, loving look Ozriel gave him made him ache. He knew Ozriel would never demand anything in exchange. None of his siblings would, especially after what had happened to him.
But he was a prince, and he had a duty to his people.
Ozriel is a fascinating character because he is essentially the ultimate Mary Sue, and characters that are superficially similar to him are generally... poorly executed (pun intended).
I've seen some readers just absolutely not vibe with this characterization, they find the fact that Ozriel is simply the best—full stop, literally better than everyone else at the Sacred Arts and beyond—to be very off-putting, because they are used to character like this being flawless, perfect, shallow, two dimensional, poorly written characters, and as such they miss out the actual depth of Ozriel.
Ozriel's superiority is his character flaw. It is the source of all of his problems. It defines his entire lived experience and colors every interaction he has with everyone else, and the fact that it is actual superiority instead of a superiority complex makes it worse.
Early life Ozmanthus is extremely explicit in describing the fundamental basis for how his success was a struggle. Will just lays it out, the loneliness, the isolation, the anger and resentment. To be Ozmanthus was to be alone.
More than just loneliness however was the ways in which his superiority was the breeding ground of his shitty personality and the lack of respect he gave to others. He had older and "wiser" authority figures demanding and expecting respect and deference when he understood the Sacred Arts better than them. Cradle is a world where might makes right and Ozmanthus was Mighty. He became haughty and spiteful, prideful and cruel.
And it wasn't enough. It didn't bring him what he wanted—it didn't even let him preserve what he had. Not as Ozmanthus, and not as Ozriel. His problem is what separates him from other Mary Sue archetypes. He is the best, but that isn't enough. He is the best, but he isn't flawless and that fact is something that he both bitterly remembers and yet often forgets.
Flaw-wise, sure, he has pride and hubris induced errors, such as his plan for his Leave of Absence discounting Makiel's possible actions, but Hubris isn't anything new from a literary perspective. What's more interesting is the ways in which his literal power and talent is the problem, which is seen so much in his interpersonal interactions with Suriel and with others.
He is so knowledgeable, so good at reading Fate, so interconnected with everything that it actively sabotages any authentic relationship efforts. How hard is it to attempt to meet someone on "equal ground" to develop a friendship when you can see into Fate and know exactly what to say to make them like you?
His interactions with people "below" him are filled with manipulations and guidance that serve purposes multiple years and 20 steps down the line. It doesn't really matter that he's always right and is trying to help because that doesn't make it better. It still hurts the people he's trying to help in the moment, and he doesn't know how to turn it off.
Playing around with Ozriel from a fan fiction or fan theory standpoint works best when these flaws are leveraged rather than ignored. Don't make this man bad at something, make him so good at it that it hurts him anyway.
The question came to Taili unbidden. She had been… doing something. Something important. The past was so slippery. She had been fleeing something… or was she pursuing? Conflicting memories warred in her mind. She remembered being prey, she remembered being a predator. She was a teacher, a queen, a slave, a soldier, a beast, yet also none of them. She just wanted her head to stop hurting. What was she thinking about? Something was missing. Something important.
Transfixed by the empty sky, Taili was watching when the man in black armor appeared overhead. Though he was far enough away that he should have been invisible to her, she could make out his every detail. His armor was a gleaming, liquid black, his hair streamed like a stark white banner in the void of space, and he brought with him a profound silence. It was as though she had gone deaf to a sound she hadn’t before noticed. The quiet brought a small amount of clarity to her fractured mind.
Enough to make her aware of the agony that was her body. Her left arm had twisted into something resembling a crabs claw made of flesh. Her right was a mangled wreck of flensed skin and shattered bone. Her legs were fused with the rocky hillside leaving her trapped. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t seem to make her lungs move. Her thoughts were muddled by pain, but one rang out clearly.
Help me
As though in answer to her mental plea, the man reached out his arm. The empty sky rippled like a disturbed pond and a scythe appeared in his outstretched hand. It’s handle was as long as the man was tall and he gazed down at the world for a moment and an eternity, before raising the weapon. When he brought it down it seemed to cleave through the sky itself. The slash of absolute darkness could be seen even against the pitch black sky. That darkness would consume everything, but its edge was traced by a soft white light. In her last moments, Taili looked at that light and knew that her end had come. But with her end came memories.
.
Memories of a quiet night on a grassy hill, of the warmth of someone by her side, of the soft whistle of the wind in the leaves.
Please tell me someone else noticed the fact that Lindon & friends left Cradle and went straight to Grave. Eithan worked hard on that pun, people. Appreciate it.
Telariel: Us judges are entertaining ourselves by keeping count of how many times Ozriel mentions his students from Cradle and betting on them .
Telariel: so far Zak is going to get a new couch with the amount of times he’s accidentally called them his kids. I’m getting a new gaming setup for the amount of anecdotes about them, Makiel isn’t allowed to play and claims that he “doesn’t want to” and Suriel is going to have all of our worldly belonging with the amount of times he’s pulled out random items and sighed sadly.
