“I open my eyes to the cold, gray sky; to the howling ocean crashing against Jimeta’s rocky bluffs. I can’t stay in the past.”

These feelings juxtapose with the open lines of the text, where Zélie uses words like “warmth” and “lullaby” to describe the ocean of her childhood. Now, with her Baba dead, she sees things as “cold” and “gray” as she tries to move forward without him. The personification in this sentence suggests that, like the “howling ocean,” her grief crashes against her even though she wishes to be free of it.

“I stumble back as magic bubbles inside me. My legs go numb. Magic shackles me to my past, dragging me under despite how hard I pull.”

This metaphor—comparing Zélie’s magic to chains anchoring her to the past—conveys the trauma that she experienced during the ritual in the temple. Even though she survived it, she still feels as if she is suffocating as she struggles to feel safe and free under its power. This idea conveys The Cyclical Nature of Violence, as she must continue her fight without time to process the violence of her past.

“The girl’s mother runs into the rain, pulling a thick yellow shawl over her head. She grabs her daughter’s wrist, muscles tensing when she spots my white hair.”

This quote shows the hypocrisy of the noble class. When Zélie sees a girl in the street, she notes the white streak in her hair—a mark that the girl now has magic. However, despite her own daughter possessing magic, the child’s mother still reacts coldly to Zélie. While the nobles would like to blame their fear of magic for their mistreatment of the maji, the reality is that they are now just treated as a lower class of people, with magic having little to do with why.