By Arissa Binte Kamaruzaman (24A01A)
Rating: 3/ 5 stars
Two pairs of eyes—one blazed in gold, the other sunk in shadow—meet across a battlefield.
Their gazes speak of diametrically opposed magic: Alaric, a prince of the night spars against Talasyn, a lost princess of the light.
Whether they know it or not, they have already hurt each other in many ways. Even before that very moment. Their ancestors’ spilt blood rests on their daggers, thrust towards each other out of vengeance. What are they to each other? Not strangers, but the heirs of rival empires, tethered by the invisible string of fated contempt.
Thea Guanzon’s The Hurricane Wars twists and turns this invisible string until its threads reveal that perhaps, those who are fated to hurt can, unknowingly, be fated to heal each other instead.
This novel embraces all the ingredients of a ravishing enemies-to-lovers tale. (Think: Kylo Ren and Rey from Star Wars, but immersed in the geopolitics of Shadow and Bone). Yet, like a dish made with an ambitious palate of flavours, it often confuses rather than delights the taste buds.
The Question for a Nation
The war between the Night Empire and Sardovia is a classic geopolitical conflict between two enemy nations. On both sides, people have shed blood for their nation: Talasyn’s mother dying at the hands of the Shadowforged; Alaric’s grandfather dying at the hands of the Lightweavers.
Talasyn’s journey in fighting for the sovereignty of Sardovia is a visceral one. It begins in the dust-ridden, apocalyptic cityscape of her homeland. Later, it takes root within the fantastical Nenavar Dominion, where dragons reside in the skies and Lightweaver magic is all abound. It is a storyline that evokes hope, for those whose claims to their land are undermined, still find the strength to defend what has always been their homeland.
From the first chapter, the grit that Talasyn and her soldiers uphold in each and every one of their battles, no matter the suffering wrought upon them by the Shadowforged, is testament to their strength.
It is this strength that drives their nationalist struggle across generations to no end. This very message is heartbreakingly inspiring, even in its simplicity. It is one that rings clear in a world increasingly ridden with suffering against innocent people—people whose rights to their homeland have been outstripped.
It’s a pity, however, that this beautifully crafted message is drowned out in the denseness of the plot. The first few chapters take a conscientious reader to pay attention to every minute detail of the historical conflict. It is especially confusing when read alongside mentions of new characters with futuristic names, and other, smaller nations that don’t really play a role in driving the plot forward, besides being part of the Night Empire’s quest for consolidating territory.
This isn’t to say that building an elaborate kingdom is a turn-off in a novel; it takes brevity in being able to paint the kingdom in a visually cohesive manner. Name-dropping territories without describing their distinctive features forces the reader to their own imagination—sadly, the fact that most readers are bereft of imagination leaves them utterly confused with the worldbuilding.
Nenavar Dominion: An Ode to South Asian Culture
Thankfully, Thea Guanzon manages to salvage the worldbuilding later on in her novel.
On the surface, the descriptions of the Lightweavers’ territory, the Nenavar Dominion, juxtaposed against the Night Empire’s seems contrived and trope-heavy: another Evil Empire against the rebel forces of good. The terms Lightweavers and the Night Empire did very little to help its case, for forces of “light” and “night” are quite honestly, the most unimaginative way one could establish two enemies.
But what singularly stood out amidst these cliches, was how Guanzon paid homage to South Asian culture and scenery in her descriptions of the Nenavar Dominion.
For all foodies out there, Guanzon’s rich attention to detail in South Asian-inspired cuisine is a feast for the eyes. In one sneaky escapade to a Nenavarene Night Market, Talaysn and Alaric find themselves greeted by a swathe of bright colours in foods that he’s never seen before. Guanzon describes one of these as “small round red [fruits] with spikes that made them look like sea urchins”, reminiscent of the ever-refreshing tropical fruit: rambutans. Yet, beyond making cultural references, she is equally creative in her surreal description of a fruit found “in the shape of human hearts that, when split open, revealed snowy white flesh speckled with black seeds”.
Indeed, the bustling atmosphere of the market, infused with the almost palpable array of aromas of seafood and meats, fruits, breathes life and stillness into an otherwise fast-paced plotline.
As the two walk alone in moonlit streets, side by side, in moonlit, Nenaverene streets where they are strangers, a sense of newfound intimacy arises, of two people experiencing a new world for the first time, together. A quiet, beautiful secret at that, for amidst the crowds, no one notices the pair of royals, who don plain, black cloaks in replacement of their usual royal grand-fare.
I quite liked this scene, for it marks a notable turn in Alaric and Talasyn’s relationship. Before, the two were perennially engaged in squabbles. Yet, just as Alaric notices Talasyn sneaking out of the palace before dawn, he volunteers to escort her to the Night Market. This is done out of apparent ‘gentlemanliness’—he claims that it wouldn’t have been safe for her to walk outside alone at night.
Alaric’s curiosity in savouring Nenaverene delights, is matched by Talasyn’s eagerness at sharing the little things that make up her heritage. One cannot help but feel touched, at seeing how two people filled with contempt, slowly learn to respect and care for each other.
Betrothed to the Enemy
Arguably, the best part of this novel is its handling of the enemies-to-lovers trope. Nothing is a guiltier pleasure than the enemies-to-lovers trope—even better when paired with a contract marriage.
The two former enemies on the battlefield turn wide-eyed in shock when they learn that they have become pawns in their parents’ diplomatic mission to unite the two historically divided kingdoms of Nenavar and the Night Empire. But the reader is suspicious towards their enmity: Alaric doesn’t seem altogether offended by the possibility of being betrothed to Talasyn; in fact, he seems pleasantly surprised.
From being held at sword’s length on the battlefield to taking lessons in aethermancy (ancient magic that fuses light and darkness) together in the court, the two find themselves at a crossroads between their deep hatred and growing attraction for each other. Just as the characters themselves admit in their internal dialogue, “hatred is another kind of passion”.
Guanzon is quite clever at pushing and pulling the forces that bind the two together—each time the reader feels that the two are inevitably going to end up confessing to the other; they suppress their feelings and remind themselves of their commitment to the larger cause of their nation.
A critical moment is when the two meet in the court’s garden—facing each other, for the first time, not as enemies but as each other’s betrothed. They get caught in a physical altercation, nevertheless, as Talasyn takes her first lesson in aethermancy with Alaric, who has been trained from young in the ancient magic of fighting.
Talasyn almost falls into the pond when she absorbs Alaric’s blow, but he holds her, almost too close for comfort, to prevent her from falling. She is awed by his strength but tells herself otherwise. He, however, is taken by her beauty but convinces himself that his feelings will soon pass. He wouldn’t have prevented her from falling if he hadn’t actually cared for her, even just a little—and that he did, only proves that his armour is softening for her heart.
While the slow burn stretched too long for my own liking, it might resonate with others, who perhaps appreciate the long, drawn-out conflict between the two. It mostly sticks to the formula–rich with snappy dialogues and quiet pinning. A deeper look into how the two actually change each other for the better would have been worth exploring—even if this is only the first book in the trilogy.
Some Hits, Some Misses
No doubt, the fusion of romance and fantastical elements makes ‘The Hurricane Wars’ a worthy consideration for light reading. Still, I’ll caution that it doesn’t read as lightly as one imagines light reading would, due to its ambitious world-building.
But with enough patience, you’ll find that there are some gems of lines to be unearthed in this novel. A particular case is the part in which the simmering slowburn finally heats up its flames: a final aethermancy lesson between Alaric and Talasyn. Like in other fights before, the two find themselves in an almost lethal embrace, but this time, Talasyn is caught in a surrender. Alaric gently reminds her:
“Your instinct is to strike first, before anyone can hurt you. But sometimes it’s the blow that moulds us…. Letting it ring against our defenses, until we are assured in the knowledge that, when it’s over, we will still be standing.”
It is this iconic line that reminds me of Taylor Swift’s “The Great War”, which perhaps best encapsulates the energy of this entire novel. Against nationalist struggles and an ongoing war that only appears to grow more violent, the two have to come to terms with what it means to trust, and what it means to betray.
If you soldier through the end of this trilogy, perhaps you’ll find that Alaric and Talasyn can finally look each other in the eyes and say: “My hand was the one you reached for/ All throughout the Great War”.