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@obrian-of-the-surface-world
It’s so interesting how the city is literally rotting from the inside out with corruption! That’s really cool symbolism!

Rose your symbology of the Blood representing the duality of “guilt” and “sacrifice” is a powerful analogy, and the fact that these images and experiences come from Liorah’s dreams are also portentous.

Thank you! The sacrifice part actually didn’t occur to me until I was writing that post, but it works in multiple ways. Dreams (Albeit not overused) can be amazing for symbolism. Even the fact of the character frequently having nightmares/dreams can be an indicator that they have something they won’t face consciously.

Also, I find it very amusing how there’s another writer who’s writing a plague/pandemic. There are a lot of stories that include pandemics, or maybe I just notice them more. It does make good conflict!

@this-is-not-an-alien

Oh no! Poor Liorah!! Lol she’s tough she’ll get through it. Just don’t send Faye into the desert alone!!! :D.

LOL, I see what you did there XD For your information, I did make Faye cross the entire desert all by her lonesome self. More than once. *Evil laughter* The great overwhelming emptiness and the constant threats are way more effective on her than on Liorah, who regards it as the norm.

Like obrian-of-the-surface-world said the blood symbology is really powerful! And it works perfect for PTSD, the dual symbolism is really fantastic it’s like how God takes evil and turns it to good <3

Thank you! That’s exactly it! There’s one particular scene where you can just see the meaning shift completely and it was so cool! (At least… hopefully. That was the goal XD)

Lol, thanks!! I love my little morbid cupcake, he deserves a lot of hugs… ooh maybe we RP that idk how he would react to you hugging him; depends on his mood, the weather, the alignment of the stars lol XD

LOL, I’m totally going to get stabbed! Don’t worry, most of my characters would stab me willingly by this point XD Or at any point actually XD *More evil laughter*

 

I can’t believe I forgot to mention the yellow dress! It’s probably the most recurring and noticeable use of subtext and symbolism in the second book.

Liorah does quite a lot of embroidery, (Don’t tease her about it. Someone did once and she said it was proof she had the patience to stab something thousands of times.)

Throughout the second book, she’s working on embroidering the bodice of a bright yellow dress. She started this dress shortly after the traumatizing events of book one. (And the situation in book two is definitely worse) so the bright, sunny yellow dress is a very glaring contrast with the bleak surroundings.

Here’s one of the first mentions of it:

“How far are you on that dress? The lovely yellow one?” She (Sahar) said, brightening.
“It’s almost finished, but I still don’t know how you convinced me. It’s so… bright.” I said, doubtfully.
“But yellow looks so nice on you,” Sahar said,

The interesting thing about this (And many following passages) is that Liorah outright comments on how bright the dress is. It’s too hopeful, too happy, too beautiful for the situation. She feels as though nothing beautiful can exist in such a horrible world, as though it’s a cruel joke.

She works on the dress on and off throughout the story, and she often regrets that she ever started it or thinks about how poorly it suits the situation. But she doesn’t give up on it, as though she’s unconsciously holding on to the fact that things will get better and there are still beautiful things.

After another event, she finally abandons the dress, when it’s very nearly finished. She’s finally given up hope.

A few chapters later, Faye, the other main character, finds the dress and you get this short scene:

It was the lovely dress Liorah had been working on, abandoned in a corner. The embroidery was all but done, but it had an air of hopelessness, as though Liorah had given up on it. The fabric, once bright yellow, was now streaked with ash and dust, faded in the face of the fire.

I examined it, but it had somehow escaped the flames. It was just dirty, not ruined.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Should I do it?

Before I could change my mind, I searched through Ceren’s (One of the horses) saddlebags and found Liorah’s sewing material.

I clearly saw the pattern Liorah had been making on the front panel. The geometric pattern was outlined in small, nearly invisible stitches to mark where everything would go. There was only a small section left.

I threaded the needle with sea-green thread and began stitching, matching my stitches to hers. I had never expected Liorah to be capable of such neat, tedious work, but she was as skilled with a needle as my sister Raisa.

I worked on the dress, changing the thread as the patterns appeared beneath my fingertips. Dusty rose and sea-green, bright teal and violet.

The sun cast fleeting, translucent rays of molten gold across my work, dappling my hands and casting shadows on my work.

I turned the dress over and knotted the thread on the last pattern. I held it up in front of me. The sunlight-yellow gown glowed in the warm light of the sunset, the bright patterns dancing across the bodice. The skirt swept out gracefully. I smiled, my eyes stinging with sudden bittersweetness.

During all the long days of waiting, the anxiety, the worry, the nightmares and the fear, Liorah had created something beautiful, and it had been my honor to finish it.

It was a fleeting idea at first because I once made an artwork of Liorah in a bright yellow dress, then the idea kept recurring. I need to expand and refine it, but I quite like the symbolism.