There is anguish. There is grief. There is sorrow.
And then there is joy, and happiness, and family, and love. Sometimes it is so hard to separate the two warring sides in your head, of good versus evil. Sometimes it is so hard to see the good when your heart only knows the loss and the pain. That's how it was for me with A Sky Beyond the Storm. I wanted so badly to let this book shatter my entire soul (which it did). But I also had to remember the beautiful parts, no matter how much it broke me and tore my soul apart.
Buckle your seatbelts, friends. This review will be very, very long.
*Contains no spoilers*
I wanted so badly to crumple in despair and throw this book against the wall and rage and rage and rage until I was numb and my throat was begging me to shut the hell up. But there was something beneath that emotion when I finished, some small, quiet thing inside me that insisted it breathe: happiness. I finished this book, and although those three characters died and completely shattered my entire being, there was hope afterward. Hope on that last page, hope even from the first page of An Ember in the Ashes. And it is hidden, and it is sacred, and sometimes it is so hard to spot because the circumstances seem so bleak and desolate that you can't even bring yourself to. But it is there. It is always there, maybe a kernel, maybe a flicker, maybe an ember. But I swear to you, it is always there, just waiting for you to set it aflame. That's what Sky taught me, and it is a lesson that will live inside me forever.
To all you Sky readers out there, I know. I know exactly how you feel. And I'm here. I'm here for you. If y'all ever want to talk, I'm here.
There is something here in the heart of this book that has molded, shaped, and altered my insides. That has unlocked my view of life, that has made me better understand humans, life, love, good, and evil. And as I am writing this review, I am going to try and discover what it was.
Everything about this book, from its name, to its words, to its characters will disturb you. It will shock you. It will drag you out of your comfort zone, will snag you by the reins of your heart and will tug at your strings insistently, demanding every single emotion from the space between the stars, all the way to the stones beneath your feet. It will force you to feel every drop of love, of remorse, of passion, of sorrow, of anger. "This book will disturb the comfortable, and it will comfort the disturbed." It will hold you so tight you won't remember what loneliness felt like. It will rattle you so hard you won't know what to do with your mortal life for the next few days, the next few weeks. This book will absolutely, positively destroy you. Inch by inch. Slowly, quietly, so gently that you won't even notice it. Not until your heart is a wrangled mess on the floor. Not until you're forced to pick up the pieces yourself. Not until you reach the last page and it is too late, far too late to put the book down and pretend you never encountered it.
This book ripped me to shreds. It tore me limb from limb, vessel from vessel, thoroughly. It demanded I shut up and take the pain like a woman, like Helene, or Laia, or Afya, or Livvy, or Mamie Rila, or Mirra, or as any woman in this series would. This book showed not an ounce of mercy, not an ounce of regret. But in a way, I am glad. Because Sabaa Tahir portrays life. She portrays life the way it truly is, not as she wishes it to be or as we, her readers, wish it to be. Sometimes life is not always kind, and sometimes we forget that. Sometimes we forget that not everyone is full and bursting to the brim with happiness. Sometimes people ache for it. Sometimes people search their whole lives for it, chasing it, and never obtain it. Sometimes their whole lives pass and they have never tasted it. And we have to be grateful for those fleeting times, those brief moments of joy.
If there is anything I have learned since the day that wretched Mask killed my grandparents and arrested Darin, it is that you must love while you can. For tomorrow, all that you love might be ash. -Laia of Serra
We have to remember the people that fought and died in these wars, the people who fought for a dream they would never get to see. I think that is what Sabaa Tahir's message is. That we must fight for those moments of happiness because we never know how long they will last. We never know when our time will be up.
I swear this book is powerful enough to spark a revolution. There are truths and there are lies. And then there is this book, which contains both truth and lie, but that teaches us enough lessons that it barely feels like fiction anymore. It feels more like a memory.
This book took everything out of me. It took everything in me to get to the last page. It took a lot of convincing to make me understand that this series is truly over. That I will never read another new word, that I will never know how Helene moves on from her losses, that I will never know what color eyes Elias and Laia's children will have, that I will never know whatever came of the rest of these beautiful characters. And if I ever decide to put myself through this again (which I know I most certainly will, since this is my favorite series of all time), I will never read another new word, another new phrase. And my heart can't bear it. I can't move on. It's really, truly over. I couldn't stand the emotions that kept pouring out of me reading these raw, aching words. But I realized that no matter how many times I reread this series, even when I start memorizing every single line of each and every book, it will still yield the same pain, the same love, the same heartbreak. I will always feel something for these characters; I will never, ever let them go. They will always be with me.
Do I remember what life was like before this book? No, I don't. Do I want to go back to return to the life I had before this, to turn back 24 hours, to have picked up a different book that would not have hurt me in this way, that would not have wounded me so badly, that would not have changed something deep inside me? ... No. I don't.
Because I am a weapon that has been whetted, a weapon that has been sharpened and honed. My mind is sharper now, but it is also softer. More forgiving. More understanding. More thankful. And what I mean by that is I've learned so much from the villains in this story. Sometimes, as a reader, it gets difficult to understand the antagonist. Sometimes you just want to watch them to die a slow, painful death for ever hurting your characters. Sometimes you want to brandish the scim yourself. But there is a reason villains exist, and that reason is not to make life hell for the main characters. The truth is that villains are humans too. They are people. They have dreams, and desires, and hopes, and wishes, and fears, and loves, too. And this book really teaches you that. It really forces you to look inside yourself, to find the softest part, to find the part that truly understands the evil in this world, and that no one is ever truly evil. Because evil people never think they're evil. They think they are doing the right thing. They think they are bettering humanity, and that makes me wonder, how could we ever blame someone, a person who has felt love and fear and hate, for doing something if that's what they think is right? How could we ever deem them evil if that is what they have been taught all their lives, if that's how they lash out with their pain?
I couldn't help it. When I finished Sky, I couldn't help loving Keris Veturia. So many people hate her and wish her dead, and maybe I did, too, for a little while. But after Sky, I realized that she is a result. She got hurt so much, and her mother was taken from her, and Keris was forced to listen to her own being tortured to death. And from that flame, from that burning, rigid fire, Keris retaliated. She locked up her heart, sealed it with the strongest, toughest glue, hid it behind layers and layers of armor and pretended it didn't exist. Used it so rarely that sometimes she forgot it was there. That is a result. That is what happens when you have been hurt so badly and you are not strong enough to fight. For how powerful and tough Keris is, she was not strong enough. She gave in to her pain; she allowed it to rule over her. Thus, she lost every battle worth fighting. And at the end of Sky, when we finally realize why Keris is the way she is, understanding is gifted to us, is instilled inside us. Sabaa Tahir grants us an invaluable gift, one of empathy.
I've learned so much from Sky. I've learned the true power of love, of friendship, of friendship that turns into family. I've learned of hope, I've learned not to turn away from it, not to scoff at it and dismiss it with a wave of the hand. I've learned of holding on and how you can never let go, you can never stop fighting, you can never give up on the people you love, because if it was them, they would never stop fighting for you.
What is inside this book? Life. Love. Friendship. Loyalty. Pain. Death. Grief. But also so much more. So much that I don't think I'll ever be ready to talk about, because it just hurts so much, and the wound is still fresh and still bleeding and I need a break. I need to step away from this for awhile and gather my head.
When you think of Helene Aquilla, and all she has been through, all she has lost, I think to myself that it is unfair. It is unfair that someone as beautiful, as noble, as worthy of love and happiness and a good life had to endure one of such pain and sadness and loss. She did not deserve it. But then when I have these thoughts, I think back to these words:
"Love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It takes and it takes and it takes and we keep loving anyway." (I really need to stop quoting Hamilton in my reviews. I think it's becoming problematic.)
I know a lot of readers are suffering from the amount of death in this book, especially the ones of three very important characters. I understand. But I also understand why those deaths were necessary, and it isn't just because Sabaa Tahir is evil (although a lot of us beg to differ, and rightfully so). War is not a living thing. It has no conscience. It doesn't understand what it's doing is wrong. It doesn't understand the cost. Sabaa is showing us that in war, we cannot choose who dies and who lives on. We can only choose our decisions. We can either choose to stop fighting and unite, or we can keep killing, keep hurting. From Sky, you learn to understand that for every person you kill, you are ridding a child of their parent, a lover of their beloved, a friend of their family. We are all human and we are all loved. We can't take lives. We can't just rip people out of each other’s arms. We should understand each other more. We should reach out to each other more. We should be there for each other. Sky just makes me wonder, why are we so damn disunited? How can we bridge the gap? Must there always be a villain in each story? Or can we just learn to protect each other, no matter if we are Scholars or Martials or Tribespeople? No matter if we are Black or Asian or Caucasian or Latinx? Must there always be one group fighting against another?
There is strength that is sometimes found in even the weakest of humans. There is something slumbering inside all of us, I think, a beast that awakens, that opens one eye, when we read about characters as strong and as brave and resilient as Helene Aquilla, as Laia of Serra, as Elias Veturius, as Avitas Harper, as Mirra of Serra, as Darin of Serra, as Musa, as Livia Aquilla. There is strength, and there is pride, and there is joy, but most of all, there is something ethereal inside each of us that awakens when we read about characters like these. Why? Because there is something inside us that is reflected on these pages, something we recognize in the characters that reminds us of ourselves. We always think we are weak, or scared, or afraid. We always think we are incapable of enduring the things Helene Aquilla has dealt, or of doing the things Laia of Serra has done, or being as strong in both body and mind as Elias Veturius is.
But how do you think Sabaa Tahir was able to create such resilient characters? Fiction is truth, and is derived from truth. Nothing is ever created; it is remade. Sabaa Tahir has encountered a soul as fiery as Laia's, as tough as Helene's, as good and as beautiful as Elias', as soft as Harper's, as enduring as Musa's and Livia's, as determined as Quin's. These people exist, and they are stories that live inside us. They are stories that will always be there, just around the corner of our minds to pull strength from. They will never go away. As long as we remember this story.
There will never come another series that changes me as this one did. I haven't lived the rest of my days out but I know. There will never be another like this. Not for me.
I have 253 characters left for this review, but I am not ready to shut up about this book. I still have so much to say. If there is one thing I know I will always remember about this book, it is that I will take Laia's courage, I will take Helene's intelligence and endurance, I will take Elias' strength and forgiveness. I will take Avitas' soft, good, kind soul, I will take Livvy's beautiful heart, I will take Tas' innocence, I will take Darin's stubbornness, I will take Afya's loyalty, I will take Mamie Rila's loyalty, I will take Mirra's toughness, I will take Quin's determination, I will take the Nightbringer's love.
And from all of these things that I take, I will be remade. I will become a better person. I will have learned not to take advantage of my people and my moments and the time I have left. I will have learned to stay silent and listen to people before I speak my mind and I will always keep believing in other people. And I do my best to spread love and kindness everywhere I go.
I feel like this review is sort of sad, so I want to end it on a positive note. If you still don't believe how good this book is, just know that I neglected food, water, sleep, and family while I rushed to finish this book. I snapped at my brother to shut up like ten times when he was blabbering nonsense. I ate nothing. (You know it's a big deal when I neglect food. Because I am greedy and I can never get enough.) I drank no water. I left my AP essay an hour before it was due (because we all know that’s not the priority here). From 10:23 am to 4:33 pm, the only thing I worried about was finishing this book. And if that’s still not enough to convince you to read this series, I am so so sorry for you.
Because you'd be missing out on an entire universe.