Fireborne

“She and I have trained together for as long as we’ve been in the Guardian program, and we’ve known each other since the orphanage before that. It’s a past life’s worth of memories that we’re both pretty good at not talking about.”

This passage illustrates the habit Lee and Annie have of avoiding talking about things of substance from their pasts. Lee prefers to avoid the truth of the atrocities his father committed as a dragonlord without checks to his power. Meanwhile, Annie prefers to pretend that Lee is not the son of the man who murdered her family. These characters must become comfortable with these topics and with their own realities as they experience coming-of-age.

“What he could. But much of it came naturally to me, Leo. Just as it will for you. We were born to rule, just as the peasants were born to serve.”

This passage depicts something Lee remembers his father telling him as a child—as Stormscourges, they are born to rule just as others are born to serve them. This exemplifies the problematic thought processes and power systems held by the elite of the former regime.

“What would it have been like, I can’t help wondering, to receive a note of good luck from him this morning, instead of one of caution from the Ministry of Propaganda? What did Lee feel as he read those words?”

Something Annie must find for herself throughout the novel is her own confidence. Her wonderings when she compares her note to the one Lee receives just before the opening ceremony of the Firstrider Tournament illustrate her self-doubt but also her desire for recognition by others.

“I feel a twinge of something between bitterness and admiration: It comes so naturally to him. Not just winning—but thinking he should win. And then the rejoining thought, unwanted but undeniable: Of course it does. Of course it comes naturally to him. It’d come naturally to you, too, if you were dragonborn.”

While Annie’s bitterness can easily be stemming from her jealousy for not having the same easy confidence and widespread support from their community as Lee does, this passage also hints at tension between the two characters. Considering they come from opposite backgrounds and could just as easily be on opposite sides of a coming war as the same side, this note of bitterness between them from Annie’s perspective adds tension to the narrative.

“I have moved toward her, pulled by the magnetism of her beaming smile; as I congratulate her and our eyes meet, I see her smile change and briefly soften. As if she recognizes, in a fleeting moment, the same thing I do: The tournaments aren’t over; the bracket is narrowing; she and I are, after today’s results, set on an increasingly likely collision course.”

While this passage is in reference to their inevitable competition against each other for Firstrider, it also hints that facing each other might be possible on a broader scale. With Julia appearing to add internal conflict to Lee’s support of Callipolis and Annie worrying his dragonborn background will cause him to defect, their collision course could possibly be on opposite sides of a war.

“I saw enough, during my years at Albans Orphanage, to mark the changes that have been made in the poorer neighborhoods over the years since the Revolution. New housing has been erected, roads are now cobbled, schools have been built in neighborhoods where literacy had been unheard of. For the most part, the people we pass seem well-fed—if a little poorly dressed—and they walk with the purposeful stride of the employed. The posters might be heavy-handed, but they’re heavy-handed about changes that are real.”

The earlier chapters of the novel continue to express the positive changes the Revolution seems to have made on Callipolis. Though propaganda plays a large part in society, which poses a red flag of concern to readers about the intentions of their new government, even characters such as Lee recognize the ways in which their society has positively benefited from his changes.

“‘Do you think she finds it strange, being surrounded by people who…’

Annie finishes his sentence immediately, like she’d been thinking about it, too. ‘Who tested better than her?’

‘Or were born into the kind of privilege that made them test better.’”

This is a scene in which Annie and Lee hold different perspectives than their own upbringings and experiences should have led them to believe. Annie tends to view the metal testing as a great opportunity for lower classes to rise above in society. However, Lee takes notice of the fact that it still favors the higher-class individuals whose born privileges give them better opportunities.

“Palace Day was one of the most terrible massacres this city has ever seen. Yes, the guilty were punished—but so were countless numbers who were completely innocent—just for being born into a particular family.”

Tyndale’s words to Lee highlight The Moral Ambiguity of Revolution. Despite the positive changes that have already been described in these early chapters, Tyndale is unwilling to forget the brutal massacre that initially occurred. Munda’s novel is full of moments like this, addressing the double-edged sword of political conflict.

“He kept trying to reconcile his father and his dragon with a burning house, a family dying, a girl being held and made to watch. He could not think of anything that could have merited it. How could his father have done such a thing? His father had been brave, noble. His dragon made him a leader of men—not just a good man, but a great one. These beliefs, taken for granted before his father’s death, were one of the few comforts he had left. Now these comforts were stained. Try as he might, he could no longer think of his father without a sickening sense of doubt. It infected all his memories. Even memories of things like dinner with his family and stories before bed were no longer safe.”

Learning more about Annie’s experiences opens Lee up to a perspective he’d been ignorant of before, where his father is not only the loving parent that Lee experienced but the brutal tyrant many others feared. This passage illustrates the destruction of Lee’s idealization of his father and dragonlord society, which allows him to eventually choose Acceptance Over Revenge years later.

“The greater resentment comes from Mr. Sutter, whose anger hangs over the Midsummer dinner like a cloud with the comments he can’t stop making to Cor: What’s the point of our daughters going to school if this is what they get? Before, we’d just have found her a suitable match […] The arguments justifying class-iron labor postings are offered patly in class—but when you look at Ana, imagine her toiling in a workhouse because she answered a few questions wrong on a test, words like the good of the state begin to make less sense.”

Cor’s family is the only instance throughout the novel where readers get to see firsthand how the metal test can work backward. It’s been celebrated as an opportunity for lower-class individuals to move up in society. However, the poor testing Cor’s sister does sends her down to the lowest class whereas before, she’d have been able to remain stable as is with her own family.

“I’ve never felt a desire for victory quite like this. All Power’s jokes about highlanders and peasants, all the entitlement he brags about among his patrician friends, all the ministry’s misgivings about me and their favor for riders like him—I finally have a chance to throw it back in their faces, in public. Because Power may be more polished leadership material on the ground, but the air is my turf. In the lead-up to the match, many of the Janiculum riders stop talking to me, while Rock and the other riders from the countryside sit with me at nearly every meal. But not all loyalties divide along such lines.”

This is the first explicit moment in the novel where Annie feels a desire to prove those who don’t believe in her wrong. Prior to this, she had internalized their discrimination and believed herself less capable. Now, Annie feels a boost of confidence and inner strength that will drive her through her coming-of-age arc.

“Perhaps it’s madness to wish such a thing, with the future looming over us as it does. But the truth is that however it ends, I want you to taste it. My kin, my first friend—I want you to know what it’s like to feel the might of the world at your feet. Not in pretend: in earnest. And then I hope you let yourself imagine how it could go from there. You and I, retaking what’s ours. Making those bastards pay for what they’ve done. Setting things right. Our fathers may be dead, but their blood runs in our veins. We were born to this.”

Julia’s message to Lee illustrates a choice of revenge over acceptance. However, Lee is not inclined to accept such an offer. Instead, he’s committed to coming to terms with his new reality and accepting his role the way it is rather than returning to the flawed way his society was before.

“What would it be like to serve as Alterna to this boy, whom of all people I should refuse to serve? And what perversion of upbringing or nature makes that easier for me to envision than becoming his superior? A revolution was fought to undo these patterns, and yet here I am, unable to picture any future but one where I repeat them. That won’t do. That can’t do. I won’t let it. I will not let Power be right. Not about my people. Not about my desires. Not about me.”

At this point in the novel, it is apparent Annie hasn’t completely accepted her past experiences with the dragonlords and still struggles with Acceptance Over Revenge. She is determined to reverse all patterns created in the past regime. This is both reflective of her reliance on a simplified version of the past and of her growth toward self-confidence. The tension between her understanding of her past and future continues as the novel progresses, pushing and pulling as she matures into a new mindset.

“And you are not naïve. Wake up. You think his regime is better because it calls serfs by another name and teaches them to read? Maybe it is. For now. In a time of plenty, without pressure or strain. But watch and see how that vision splinters when we exert pressure. Then we can revisit whether you think it’s noble. Whether you have the stomach for more.”

Julia’s words invite Lee to open his eyes to the ways in which Atreus’s system is flawed. Though it might be better than the old regime in some ways, the propaganda he promotes causes many to overlook the flaws that’ll only splinter at the slightest conflict.

“My father taught me the form of courage that he needed. The courage of thinking from your knees. That was what we had. But today, as I stood in front of Lee sur Pallor, I realized I’m done with my father’s kind of courage. I felt how those words tasted, yes, sir to a dragonlord’s son, sour and familiar, like old milk turned. And I realized that if I don’t like how those words taste, it’s up to me to do something about it. I’m done thinking from my knees. It’s time to think from my feet.”

In this passage, Annie takes a vital step in character growth. She decides that the submissive form of courage that her father taught her was a way for him to get by in the past, but she desires more. Rather than bowing down to others, Annie is committed to fighting for her own right to be in control. After all, these are the opportunities the new regime was built for.

“It is difficult, knowing that your choices are ones whose consequences others suffer […] But that is the price of leadership. How exactly would you compromise with these people, Lee? They don’t want our world. They want theirs. And that’s something I will not allow. We are building something better.”

Atreus makes this argument to Lee when he becomes worried about the children the Pythians might orphan in attacks should Callipolis not surrender to them. Atreus attempts to convince Lee that the risk of those lives is not easy but might be the better alternative to giving the triarchy their former power, a discussion thematically supporting The Complexities of Leadership.

“Here are the facts. You’re a finalist like Lee, his equal or better in every one of his classes, his only challenger in the air, his match on every count of trauma. You’re every bit as qualified for Firstrider as he is, you’re the only real threat he’s ever had. But he doesn’t see that. And I’m not sure you do, either.”

Ironically, it is Power, an antagonistic peer of Annie’s, who explicitly points out the ways in which she rivals Lee, despite her own lack of confidence in her skills. Power’s words here have a significant impact on the development of Annie’s growing confidence.

“As much as I come away from these sessions furious—furious with Power, furious with the memories, furious—there’s also triumph. Because for the first time in my life, the old wounds are useful. The fury gives me Aela; and when we’re together, like this, we’re powerful. At such a price, the memories of weakness finally serve a purpose, and once used, they never hurt with the same strength again.”

Through training sessions with Power practicing spillovers with Aela, Annie is able to face the memories and emotions she’s spent a lifetime ignoring. Through facing these, she’s slowly able to let go of the pain, sadness, and anger attached to them, choosing Acceptance Over Revenge.

“Do the justifications for our choices matter to those who starve? For years I’ve told myself, if not always that the old regime was in the wrong, at least that Atreus is in the right. That his system is fair and good, that he has a plan worth following. Wasn’t that the point? Just as Atreus once told us: You only deserve this mantle as long as you can be more reasonable and more virtuous than what came before. I realize I’m no longer sure we are.”

In this passage, Lee is struggling to cope with The Complexities of Leadership. When every choice leads to unjust deaths, he can’t decide on a better path, let alone one that conforms to the values of fairness and justice that Atreus’s Revolution promised.

“The thing that strikes me, now that I’m older, is that what happened to my family was…routine. All of it. I’m not the only child who survived a fire; there was a name for it. I was a designated witness. When it happened, Leon wasn’t acting out of anger; he was completely calm. After all, he was just exercising his legal rights. Another day on the job, for a dragonlord.”

This passage illustrates Annie’s final acceptance of her history and experiences. She no longer views what Lee’s father did as a targeted attack against her in particular but rather a small act in the grander problem. She is one of many victims.

“‘As much as I’ve hated doing collections these past two weeks,’ Annie goes on doggedly, ‘as much as I felt like a Stormscourge—I also know it was nothing close to the worst of what they did. And so long as that’s the case, this is the side you want to be on. Even if we’re a little evil, we’re still better than the evil they were, before.’”

This is Annie’s way of justifying The Complexities of Leadership. When their only option is to choose the lesser of two evils, she finds comfort in the fact that the unfortunate things she and Lee have done thus far in their service to the new regime are still nowhere near as bad as it used to be.

“Then he heard Atreus’s command. It had been said so quietly, the soldier thought at first he had misheard it. ‘Take the boy into the hallway,’ Atreus murmured, “and slit his throat.”

Despite what Lee has always believed, the First Protector had ordered him to be killed during the revolution. This does not bode well for their intertwined futures throughout the rest of the series, and it complicates Lee’s understanding of his own history and memories. 

“He would never tell anyone about the time he disobeyed his commander’s orders. The time when he carried a boy into a hallway and kept walking. Looking back on that moment, he tried to tell himself it had been a choice. A choice, for better or for worse, that had defined him. The truth was, it hadn’t felt like a choice at all. He had simply looked at the boy and seen, not a dragonlord’s son, but a child like any other.”

This anonymous soldier serves as a prime example of what the ideal society should be like—a man who judged a child not because of his birthright, his family’s actions, or the system he was born into, but on the child he was and the man he could become with the right guidance.