"Women Who Gained Wisdom in Their Work" (KAR 321, obv. 2–11/IM.132512 iii.6–21)
Image: IM.132512, col. iii
This hymnic Akkadian text from the late second millennium BCE is found in two primary places: KAR 321, a school tablet that has excerpts from multiple famous compositions, and IM.132512, a lengthy poem praising the god Marduk and his city Babylon. The first half of it appears to alternate between couplets about the good deeds of men and women, although the genders of the various "theys" can be inconsistent. The second half seems to focus on the women dedicated to religious roles who served the gods in Babylon.
The men free the prisoner;
they release the captive at great cost.
The women set out rations of (silver? beer?);
how very reverently do they bless […].
They follow the divine law, protecting what is right:
the primal boundary, the ancient blueprint.
The hostesses of righteous Ningirsu, of sweet Alala:
they do not act disrespectfully with them; they honor and exalt each other.
They act appropriately as pleasing advisors:
brightening moods, loving joy.
Women who gained wisdom in their work:
the ugbabtu priestesses, who stay true to their (divine) spouse;
the naditu priestesses, who skillfully revive the womb;
the qadištu priestesses, who put verdigris into purifying water.*
They protect taboos and enforce prohibitions;
they bless the kneeler and acquire prayer.
They are careful, conscientious, aware of goodness;
they are constantly solicitous to the gods' sanctuaries.
(or: the gods' daughters are constantly solicitous.)
They act well and can be appropriate:
[…] of all Babylon, the herd (?) of Ishtar (?).
They are those liberated from service by Marduk.
He shall not rob them (?) or bring accusations against them.
* I'm extremely intrigued by this line for two reasons. First, the qadištu is the Mesopotamian equivalent of the Israelite qedešah, a "holy-woman" whom the Bible associates with both pagan religious rites and prostitution. Second, the association between gynecology ("reviving the womb") and the addition of rust or verdigris to "purifying water" is highly reminiscent of Numbers 5:17, where a priest adds dust to "holy water" to produce a potion that reveals whether a woman has been unfaithful. Is there a future paper here? Maybe!
Primary sources on this text:
Bird, Harlot or Holy Woman, pp. 289–90
Fadhil and Jiménez, "Literary Texts from the Sippar Library V," pp. 26–29
Foster, Before the Muses, p.878
Maul and Manasterska, Schreiberübungen aus neuassyrischer Zeit, pp. 112–20
“Would the Bone Carver make a difference?” And Bryaxis.
The Suriel had no eyelids. But its milky eyes flared with surprise. “I cannot see—not him. He is not…born of this earth. His thread has not been woven in.” (acowar)
The Suriel, a being similar to Elain in unexpected ways (link and link), implied that they could not see the Bone Carver’s impact because he is not born of this earth and it wasn’t woven in. Woven into what, exactly? One of my favorite scenes in the original trilogy has an answer:
My lips tugged toward a smile. But Rhys stared at all of us, somehow assembled here in the sun-drenched open grasses without being given the order. Our family—our court. The Court of Dreams.
They all quieted.
Rhys looked them each in the eye, even my sisters, his hand brushing down the back of my own.
“Do you want the inspiring talk or the bleak one?” He asked.
“We want the real one,” Amren said.
Rhys pushed his shoulders back, elegantly folding his wings behind him. “I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don’t know. I don’t really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn’t…I might have become as awful as that prick we’re going to face today.
[…]
And then he said to my sisters, “We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we’ll find out why.”
He surveyed them all again—and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together.
Rhys said, “We will walk onto that field and only accept Death when it comes to haul us away to the Otherworld. We will fight for life, for survival, for our futures. But if it is decided by that tapestry of Fate or the Cauldron or the Mother that we do not walk off that field today…” His chin lifted. “The great joy and honor of my life has been to know you. To call you my family. And I am grateful—more than I can possibly say—that I was given this time with you all.” (acowar)
This scene still gives me all the feels and it is still so very relevant to the overarching plot. I’ll explain why.
Rhys references a tapestry of Fate (alongside the Mother and Cauldron, naturally; there’s evidence it’s all part of the the same vast source. The witches in tog also refer to this as the Mother’s loom).
He also acknowledges each member of the Court of Dreams—a court dedicated to fighting for life, for survival, for their futures—before he binds them together through their hands, a mirror of their fates woven together in that grand tapestry. 🥹
Woven together, they create 8 points.
What else is connected by 8 points?
The Harp sat atop a large rendering of an eight-pointed star. Its cardinal points stretched longer than the other four, with the Harp situated directly in the heart of the star.
The hair on the back of her neck stood. She could have sworn the blood in her body reversed course.
She had the creeping feeling she’d been brought here.
Not by the Cauldron or the Mother or the Harp. By something vaster. Something that stretched into the stars carved all around them. (acosf)
The eight-pointed star. A symbol of the Starborn. Something both @offtorivendell and I have theorized means something more and is connected to Wyrd. In the Dusk Court, it is depicted as a compass rose and the Harp rests in its heart (or the space between where all those points meet).
The Harp makes perfect sense there. When the right strings are plucked, it can manipulate time and space, even move power from one place to another. These strings seem to mimic the ley lines in Wyrd’s grand tapestry, which move magic and communication across great distances. And the vast force that brought Nesta to that symbol and object—which are linked to Wyrd’s magic, especially since one of them was Made in the Cauldron—is Wyrd. She is a force that governs all life and winds between worlds.
I’ve suggested before that Elain might have access to Wyrd’s secret language (the language of the universe, of creation) and linked it to her tapestry and ley lines in one of my absolute favorite metas. It makes even more sense why Elain and the Harp would echo one another, if their magic is connected to Wyrd’s tapestry and ley lines in particular.
In hofas, we learn the Asteri knew how to bend this tapestry—the fabric of worlds—through ley lines. They used this knowledge to conquer worlds and amplify their own magic when needed, pooling massive amounts of raw power, or firstlight, in the land where these lines met.
“We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning—rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them—and left. Our brightest minds found ways to bend the fabric of worlds. To travel between them. Wayfarers, we called them. World-walkers.”
[…]
Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”
“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.
“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”
[…]
“There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”
[…]
“Every world has at least one thin place,” Vesperus drawled. “And there are always certain people more suited to exploit it—to claim its powers, to travel through them to other worlds.” (Vesperus speaking to Bryce, Azriel, and Nesta; hofas)
-
“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.”
“Ley lines,” Bryce breathed.
Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. (Bryce speaking to the Princes of Hel, hofas)
In blooming dreams, I mentioned the curious terms Bryce uses to discuss the secrets that were left behind in the land:
“No,” Bryce said quietly. “We’re exactly where we need to be.” She pointed to the floor, the carving of rivers of stars winding throughout. “And this place wasn’t built by Pelias. He had nothing to do with these tunnels, the carvings.” She laid a hand on the floor. Her starlight flowed through the carvings in the stone, the walls, the ceiling—
What had looked like etched seas or rivers of stars now filled in with starlight, became…alive. Moving, cascading, coursing. A secret illustration, only for those with the gifts and vision to see it.
The rippling river of starlight flowed right to the sarcophagus in the center of the chamber. Swirled around it like an eddy.
Bryce threw herself against the coffin, legs straining as she pushed—
And the sarcophagus slid away. Revealing a small, secret staircase beneath. (hofas)
Secrets were left behind for those with the gifts and vision to see. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a thousand times more: this screams Elain to me. I’ve theorized that she was given gifts and vision from Wyrd to unravel the Asteri’s remaining secrets buried in the land. And it is interesting how this illustration of flowing magic on Avallen, magic that Bryce followed to uncover a hidden chamber, mirrors how Elain’s is described in acosf:
Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring, a sparkling river that she followed to the open doors of the chamber. Elain stood at the wall of windows, clad in a lilac gown whose close-fitting bodice showed how well her sister had filled out since those initial days in the Night Court. Gone were the sharp angles, replaced by softness and elegant curves. (acosf)
It wouldn’t surprise me if Elain’s words to her family in acosf were, in fact, prophetic (and not just iconic): find me when you wish to begin. Based on the events in hofas, the IC will likely require the third sister’s gifts and vision to find a true beginning untethered from the Asteri. The more I think about the Asteri’s influence on Prythian—from the rotted peaks to the rigid division of magic to the objects they weaponized—the more I am convinced Wyrd’s tapestry wasn’t meant to be controlled this way, especially not in the name of violence toward her creation.
I’m not the only one who believes Elain’s magic is linked to this grand tapestry, particularly the ley lines and thin places that overlap within it. @merymoonbeam recently discussed Elain’s sight, ley lines, and thin places; she theorized that the Cauldron itself may be a thin place. @offtorivendell also theorized that Elain’s sight is connected to weaving and the Cauldron and Ouroboros are portals associated with thin places in her meta on the Chaos star. The Cauldron, Ouroboros, and Trove are all connected to Wyrd; they were Made to harness her magic (or exploit, claim - as Vesperus said, which explains how they utterly destroyed their own world). Thin places are parts of the tapestry that connect beings and worlds through overlapping ley lines. It’s where Void and Chaos meet. Certain symbols reflect this balance, like the Starborn star.
These places of balance, where opposing forces meet and merge in the tapestry, is also repeatedly reflected in those who are farseeing, like Wyrd, and in symbols that represent her across worlds, as @merymoonbeam and I have theorized.
Elain’s murky realm and unfocused eyes;
the milky eyes of the Suriel;
the murky darkness in the Oracle’s chamber;
the cloudy water in mystic tubs;
the smoky water of the Cauldron;
the murky darkness in the Night Court’s library;
the smoking black altar in Wyrd’s temple;
the breathing, bottomless pit of Chaos in Hel.
In other words, as @merymoonbeam pointed out, they reflect thin places in Wyrd’s grand tapestry. Sarah also includes subtle references to this tapestry through words like entwined, weaving, veil, and…braid:
Seer. The word clanged through me. She’d known. She’d warned Nesta about the Ravens. And in the chaos of the attack, that little realization had slipped from me. Slipped from me as reality and dream slipped and entwined for Elain. Seer. (a description of Elain’s sight, acomaf)
-
The smoke parted, and he sucked in a breath at the being that emerged. Sphinxes were rare—only a few dozen walked the earth, and all of them had been called to the service of the gods. No one knew how old they were, and this one before him … She was so beautiful he forgot what to do with his body. The golden lioness’s form moved with fluid grace, pacing the other side of the hole, weaving in and out of the mist. (a description of the oracle, hoeab)
-
A withered humanoid form, veiled and dressed in gray robes, the material gauzy enough to reveal the bony body beneath, stood at the massive desk at the entrance of the room. The Mistress of the Mystics. If she had a name, Lidia had never heard it uttered. (a description of the Mistress of the Mystics, hofas)
-
It was like a braid, the song—a plait of seven voices, weaving in and out, individual strands that together formed a pattern. (a description of the priestesses’ service honoring Wyrd, acosf)
These references ultimately bring us back to where this meta began: the Suriel. Their sight was limited to the beings woven into the tapestry of their specific world. But what about Elain’s sight? Without any training whatsoever, she was able to see Koschei, his prisoners, his lake, and an onyx box that was important to him. Koschei, like the Bone Carver, was not born of this world. She might not be able to see all of the threads of his story yet, but maybe it’s a matter of finding the right combinations—threads, or ley lines, in the tapestry—to locate the information she needs. Or a matter of securing the right help. If she can learn how to use the threads in Wyrd’s tapestry, it might be possible for her to learn the Asteri’s secrets, who are also not born of this earth, and unravel the threads that bind their land.
I believe Nesta’s comment about Elain training in acosf with her friends and Azriel was a very big hint: she did not wait for her family to begin. She is probably already exploring her gifts and vision with friends, Azriel, or even the priestesses who worship Wyrd and seem to possess their own methods for piercing the veil like subterranean mystics.
We’ve already seen her friends (and Azriel) bend the fabric of the world to vanish and move through it unseen. Cerridwen and Nuala even created their own dark tapestry, another reflection of the grander one governed by Wyrd, in acotar:
Nails clicked on stone, and my escorts swapped glances before they swung me into an alcove, a tapestry that hadn’t been there a moment before falling over us, the shadows deepening, solidifying. I had a feeling that if someone pulled back that tapestry, they would see only darkness and stone. (acotar)
What if, like so many have suggested (@silverlinedeyes, @merymoonbeam, @offtorivendell, myself and more), that is why Elain was drawn out of the House to learn about the weaver’s tapestry with Feyre? Was Elain so curious about it because she’s seen something similar in her mind, or watched her friends create a void with their magic? Could they help Elain master Void so she can weave Hope?
If this is the direction Sarah goes, I can see Elain claiming the forbidden magic of Wyrd not for violence or power, but for life. To fight for her own future, and the futures of her friends and family, like her sisters before her. Maybe she already has at least once before and we’re about to see it on a far grander scale in her book.
The closest thing to art in the Legion is metal body art - those soldiers who are left handicapped but still able to fight have crude prosthetic limbs or fingers made for them, even the occasional aluminum eye, and the priestesses deck themselves out in bulky jewelry to signify their status as holy women unavailable for abuse. That’s one bit of their culture that will outlive them. Positive or no.
