A Silent Voice — Radiant’s Lupa, Identity and Trust
In the old Norse tales, no other story has sparked imagination and inspired more reinterpretations than the events of Ragnarök. Sometimes referred to as “the Twilight of the Gods,” it marks the beginning and end of the Norse saga as the gods wage war with their mortal enemies until the entire world is engulfed in flames, rendering all of creation back to ash.
In modern times, the story of Ragnarök is often considered to be a signifier of change. A cycle of rebirth as the old myths and monsters are destroyed, and depending on the iteration, the birth of new life as the world is created anew. Though it has been reinterpreted and mined to the point of cliche, what’s remained consistent is the ouroboros at the center of it all. The cycle of life and death, order and chaos, and creation and destruction.
Unsurprisingly, the beginning of Ragnarök is heralded through one such cycle. According to legend, it is said that it will commence when the twin wolves, Sköll and Hati have reached the end of their celestial hunt and devour the sun and moon, respectively. Sons of the monstrous Fenrir who is descendant of the trickster god Loki, they are figures of chaos by definition, yet their chase is also used to personify the sun and moon cycle — at least for the Vikings who passed on the myth.
The world of Radiant is no stranger to myths and monsters, both through its reinterpretations of familiar figures and reconstruction of its world following the rise and fall of ancient magic and upheaval of modern Sorcery. In the current arc, it appears the world of Pharenos is about to change once more, but before that story can unfold, it helps to go back to the beginning, starting with the messenger who chased the sun, arriving at a slightly different destination than their Norse parallel.
And her name is…
Radiant Memories is a collection of stories looking back at the Radiant universe and its 10 year anniversary. For more details, see below.
Skohell
As previously discussed in the Domitors (Bome) Arc/10th anniversary post I did a while back, Bome is a story of escalation, cross-examining the political systems in place through the general unease and inequality in society at large through the lens of isolation, fear and love — emotion — to further contextualize the various individuals who find themselves at the mercy of the main conflict. Though there are far too many new faces and subplots than I care to go over, the single unifying theme at the center is trust.
Trust — or the belief that someone or something can be relied on to do what they say they will — is a key element of social relationships and a foundation for cooperation. It is critical for romantic relationships, friendships, interactions between strangers, and social groups on a large scale, and a lack of trust in such scenarios can come with serious consequences. Indeed, society as a whole would likely fail to function in the absence of trust. — Psychology Today
The key phrase I want to emphasize here is “serious consequences” in the absence of trust. Bome as an institution is one run entirely on established governance, old traditions and an increasing amount of surveillance as the Inquisition begins to crack down on the Domitors, unaware that they’ve been doing much of the same through various underground networks and spies. Regardless of which side, the frustration and lack of transparency becomes apparent within both organizations with individuals becoming more distrustful if not hostile towards leadership, as well as growing unrest from the local residents who are either powerless to step in or are left to circumvent the system altogether to survive this harsh environment.
Lupa Lycco is one such character who had to forge a new identity to fight for her right to exist. As one familiar with the difficult way of life in Bome which frequently preys on the weak and underprivileged — even more so for the residents of the lower districts and the Infected — she understands the benefit of maintaining an aura of strength. Like a wolf that bares its teeth in the presence of immediate danger, she puts on a performative act of her own through a combination of sorcery and personas.
As a Domitor herself, Lupa’s monstrous wolf Skohell gave her the power to defend herself from the prejudice and cruel hands of those who would take advantage or harm her due to her status as an Infected. What really set her apart from most Sorcerers is her mastery of miniaturization (“booking”) magic, eventually making contact with Adhès and the Domitors of Bome. Her skills proved to be invaluable for Adhès’s larger ambitions, but unlike the inner circle, their working relationship is strictly professional, both for story related purposes — more on that later — and her distinct personality.
Ever the lone wolf, Lupa’s ability to adapt to the task at hand is mostly the result of keeping a safe distance from others through a combination of silence and her trademark solemn expression. With a couple of exceptions, most of her conversation panels throughout the first half of the Domitors Arc have her never directly face the other person entirely, rarely making full eye contact, if at all. It’s a fun detail I picked up upon rereading the material for this piece, but all you need to know for now is she’s often regarded as a very distant individual, seemingly disengaged with the world around her as her cold eyes stare elsewhere — as if searching for something.
Of course, this ends up being far from the case, as we’re given a few minor details throughout regarding her thoughts and relevant memories. Within the broader strokes of the story, however, this approach carries its own set of consequences. Almost every character misreads her intentions more than once and at least one or two attempt to provoke her once they figure out the magic words, giving further credence to the icy persona she’s carefully maintained to move incognito.
On the one hand, this could be intentional so as to not tip her cards early, particularly when dealing with the other Domitors, while on the other — ̶i̶̵̶t̶̵̶’̶̵̶s̶̵̶ ̶̵̶t̶̵̶o̶̵̶ ̶̵̶h̶̵̶i̶̵̶d̶̵̶e̶̵̶ ̶̵̶t̶̵̶h̶̵̶e̶̵̶ ̶̵̶f̶̵̶a̶̵̶c̶̵̶t̶̵̶ ̶̵̶t̶̵̶h̶̵̶a̶̵̶t̶̵̶ ̶̵̶s̶̵̶h̶̵̶e̶̵̶’̶̵̶s̶̵̶ ̶̵̶i̶̵̶n̶̵̶t̶̵̶o̶̵̶ ̶̵̶c̶̵̶o̶̵̶s̶̵̶p̶̵̶l̶̵̶a̶̵̶y̶̵̶.
In all seriousness, these figurative and literal masks are all in service to a larger goal, driven by a very specific set of principles. Over the course of the story, the bond between a Nemesis and their tamer is given a higher degree of contextualization, typically the result of a forced awakening due to a high stress situation or a special ritual. Though it is strictly taboo, even among Sorcerers, those with the affinity and temperament to tame one know that such a bond is not to be taken lightly. Or to paraphrase one character directly, “once the pact has been made, it’s permanent.”
With that advice in mind, most take special care when it comes to their Nemeses by learning from someone already experienced, lest their bestial nature overwhelm them. In Lupa’s case, her mentor would do more for her than just teach her Sorcery and survival skills, giving her purpose, a renewed sense of living and a true home when things were bleakest. But when that home is disrupted and the weight of the final task that was entrusted to her becomes intertwined with a personal score to settle, the responsibility of a living up to their legacy is put on hold and the endless search for answers in the city of wolves begins…
***Spoilers for Volumes 11–17 begin here***
The Wolf and the Sun
The irony in Lupa’s character is that while she is primarily portrayed as a very reserved and detached individual, she is quick to lose her composure, especially when it comes to personal matters. After capturing Seth, Mélie and Ocoho during a chance run in with them while out on a job, she intends to turn Seth over to Adhès as he’s been hunting him following the aftermath of Rumble Town. While relaying the information to Opilion, she briefly drops her usual serious look, not out of celebration of a job well done, but a moment of reflection:
That brief respite is shortly interrupted upon arrival in Bome when Doc manages to swipe the book containing his comrades, only to also release the imprisoned Nemesis that was being transported via airship. Amidst the confusion, Lupa manages to escape, returning empty handed to a packed audience and an impatient Adhès who demands she finish the job. Now accompanied by Kamagoe and his Nemesis, Samjoko (that’s the “three-legged crow” or sun bird found in various mythologies btw), they return to the surface to hunt their bounty.
It’s at this point where we start to get a clearer focus on Lupa’s working relationship with the Domitors, as well as the general feel for Adhès’s leadership style. Needless to say, both realize that failure isn’t an option, lest they temp the wrath of Adhès further, so they track Seth down thinking they can get the drop on him via numbers. Unfortunately for them, they underestimate his abilities and Fantasia affinity, using their own tactics against them. Their lack of coordination eventually erupts in anger and the usually collected Lupa loses focus while her accomplice mocks her further.
For the uninitiated, this fight is personal for Lupa for reasons that go beyond obligation or avoiding Adhès’s fury. To the Domitors, Seth’s interruption in Rumble Town was merely a setback in their larger end goal, but to Lupa, it was the moment that destroyed her home, leading her to take the lead and confront her target head on. And when she finally corners Seth, catching him off guard for the first time since this encounter began, all he can do is listen as his unknown assailant reveals why he’s in this predicament:
Having written an entire retrospective on Hameline, it’s no secret that her unanticipated popularity and importance has had an influence on the Radiant mythos and the larger storytelling picture. Still, you have to remember that the first four volumes were designed around the possibility that the series ended prematurely for its continuation was not set in stone. It needed to have the most impact early on for both continuity purposes and attracting an audience in the long run, and while the series persevered after the fact, her sudden exit from the stage left a big hole of possibilities.
“What exactly was Hameline doing in the ten years before her return to Rumble Town? What kind of person was she in that unspecified period? And if she was capable of change at the end, could tragedy have been adverted?” These are questions that the Domitors Arc contends with as Seth searches for Hameline’s stolen Nemeses while confronting his past and Lupa who desperately seeks answers into her untimely demise in addition to her true objective. The story never explicitly states what that relationship is — with Lupa deliberately avoiding the question when prompted — but through her memories and hidden reactions, they were close enough for Hameline to entrust her with carrying out her last wish and Lupa to seek revenge on her behalf.
With her prey finally within her grasp, Lupa confronts Seth, only to be confronted with the inevitable truth. Though Hameline was killed in battle (by Torque), her sacrifice was of her own accord, saving the boy standing right in front of her along with the hope that this world can change. A hope that the rattled Lupa is unable to process at the thought of her friend and mentor “abandoning” her for a quixotic dream, causing her to further lash out as the Inquisition arrives to apprehend them all.
In a twist of fate, Seth saves Lupa upon witnessing Kamagoe’s betrayal who had abandoned her upon realizing their current objective was a lost cause with the Inquisitor Conversos, their elusive target and securing their own escape being too much to handle all at once. Naturally, they each have questions for the other — lots of questions — but they’ll have to wait as they need to cooperate until they’ve escaped their current predicament.
With a small amount of bickering and second doubts about who he just rescued, Seth manages to come up with a last-ditch plan, using the accumulated Fantasia in his arm to reforest the surrounding plaza. Though Lupa is still not convinced, having suggested he brute force his way forward only for him to adamantly refuse due to his destructive power, it’s enough for her to repay the favor, carrying him to safety — using the same booking magic she used to capture him at the start — upon exhausting all of his energy and blacking out off screen.
Distant Memories
As noted by the Journal of Applied Psychology (Colquitt, Jason A.; Scott, Brent A.; LePine, Jeffery A. (2007), the perception of trust is predicated on some level of vulnerability or giving up some level of personal security, whether it be through words or actions. Colquitt, Scott and LePine identify these perceptions on three levels:
- Trust: an individual’s ability to open up to people, including those already identified as dependable.
- Trustworthiness: personal behaviors and characteristics one would look for in favorable relationships.
- Trust propensity: the likelihood or frequency of the individual to share or become vulnerable in front of others based on life experience.
For Lupa, that trust does not come easily. Following her unofficial excommunication from the Domitors, she continues to carry on as business as usual. She presses Seth for answers by forcibly waking him up, taking a defensive stance, still not bothering to face his direction. When Ocoho activates her Gysoni in order to expedite a certain task with Lupa present, she immediately protests given the spell’s high degree of invasiveness and lack of independency. And when the two women are unwillingly paired up to rescue the former’s friends, their worldviews and personalities clash more than once, prompting further friction as they arrive closer to their destination.
At the same time, however, this is also the start of her second wind. As Lupa is thrust into Seth and company’s orbit, she is subsequently forced out of her comfort zone as her assumptions about them and the nature of trust is challenged. That’s because for all disguises and barriers she puts up in order appear tough or avoid getting personally attached, when it comes down to it, the next couple chapters/volumes are really just a variant of the same question:
“Who is Lupa Lycco?”
There’s the obvious stuff of course — the Nemesis tamer of Skohell, the talented Sorcerer and master of Booking magic, and the doting protégé/friend/younger “sister” of Hameline. What I’m getting at is how do you define a character whose sole motivation has now been ripped away from them? How do you force them to grow out of their older sibling’s shadow and into someone who by all accounts should be on the same page with the main cast given their shared history?
It all begins when Seth and Lupa have a chance to properly speak on equal terms following the previous encounter, where they still continue to give each other a hard time, much to their annoyance:
Once again putting up a cold front, they start connecting the dots between Hameline, their history and current predicament now that Adhès presumably has targets out on both their heads. Though their alignment is no longer in direct conflict, she still can’t bring herself to buy Seth’s version of events. The thought of her older sister willingly giving herself up to preserve a far-fetched dream, for a complete stranger no less flies against the image of the person who once stretched out her hand while struggling to carve out an existence for herself on the streets. The same person who once believed coexistence between the Infected and non-Infected couldn’t be achieved, until…
…That same self-fulling prophecy from before was challenged once more. It’s worth reiterating again that this conversation takes place without either party facing one another. Upon rereading these volumes for this piece, this was the first instance I picked up on Lupa’s indirectness before realizing it was present elsewhere. Again, it’s an adorable detail out of context, yet in this moment, she briefly turns around before returning to face away, not out of a position of strength or superiority, but genuine emotion, not quite ready to face the reality that her sister is gone — not quite ready to trust or show vulnerability to this stranger.
With their goals aligned, Seth asks for her help in retrieving Hameline’s last memento — her stolen Nemeses. She agrees, on the condition that he assist her with releasing Skohell who was captured by the Inquisition during their previous battle. Not exactly the friendliest way to start over, but a small act of faith nonetheless now that the two share some common ground.
As much as I’ve waxed poetic about this moment, Lupa’s apotheosis — a word from Ancient Greek meaning “divinization” or climax in more literary settings — doesn’t come from Seth directly. In fact, she continues to cold shoulder him all the way through their rendezvous and into the next chapter of this story with the new team she is coerced into! But after their plan goes sideways and Seth is captured by the Inquisition while the rest of his allies are still unaccounted for, a desperate Ocoho recruits her and the newly released Diabal to aid in their rescue.
No One Left Behind
On an individual level, no one is happy about this arrangement. Ocoho having to rely on the two individuals who had a hand in their recent misfortunes (Diabal and the Faithful of the Hermit; Lupa and the Domitors), Lupa being forced to cooperate against her will on top of being on Adhès’s hit list, and Diabal — not saying much, but not proud of his prior involvement, nonetheless. It’s a team formed out of necessity, and as Ocoho tells them, she’s willing to put aside her animosity towards them for her friends. Regardless of their previous conflicts of interest, she knows that Seth trusted them enough as shown during the Domitors attack on the canal, therefore, places her trust in his judgment.
With the terms and negotiations out of the way, they set out to sneak into the Domitors’s hidden base where problems arise between the women who, to put it lightly, don’t get along. As Lupa secures safe passage for them through an underground runner which leads to an altercation when they try to take advantage of the perceived helpless traveler, she nearly strangles the leader, prompting Ocoho to intervene. Though the display is excessive, it’s used as a starting point to highlight the corruption in Bome and environments not nearly as friendly to the magically inclined like Cyfandir.
In the more lawless zones of the lower districts, survival becomes a way of life, which is what Lupa argues holds power over people like the smugglers who regularly victimize or take advantage of the less fortunate. Even the Domitors, for all their violent tendencies and questionable ethics, do serve a higher ideal in protecting their own kind. As a result, she further argues that just having an ideal is far easier to grasp to the average citizen or Sorcerer struggling to survive. In other words, it gives them something to believe in — a tangible form of trust through actions, more or less.
On the other hand, Ocoho’s inexperience with the outside world beyond the relatively peaceful walls of Caislean Merlin is used to highlight that she herself was a victim of other people’s ideals left unchecked. Indirectly referencing the Faithful of the Hermit’s schemes, she knows when people become comfortable with compromise for the sake of their ambitions, it leads to people acting on their hubris, crossing further lines and having the ends justify the means, regardless of the damages. This is also something that Ocoho wrestles with after having violated Mélie’s free will with her Gysoni early on in the story. Despite having the best of intentions, this leads her to second guess herself more often with the guilt of having hurt her friend both mentally and spiritually.
The beauty of these moments is that the story never places greater value on one position or the other. The very formation of this trio was predicated on a vague threat of Ocoho using her Gysoni on them to cooperate, but outside of trying to help Diabal with his inner demon when it reemerges, she never makes good on this threat. Still, she recognizes Lupa’s perspective and growing concerns, going so far as to reflect on her own unreasonable demands due to hanging the spell over their heads. Basically, you can’t expect people to perform or work at their best from intimidation, which is ironically what Lupa starts to see during their rescue operation.
Lupa may have involuntarily signed up for this assignment, but that didn’t stop her from playing her part to ensure their success, attempting to wake Ocoho and Diabal when they get pulled into the Sidh or even showing visible concern when Seth is put in danger during a free for all against her former colleagues and an uninvited guest. For all her bravado and masquerading to reach her goals, her driving principles of not putting more innocents in danger and avoiding unnecessary damages (i.e. killing as a last resort) chip away at the façade despite given multiple opportunities to make a break for it. She may not be able to bring herself to fully agree with Ocoho by the end, but they do share at least one desire — an outcome where no one gets left behind.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “So, Lupa finally turns over a new leaf and her new allies show her the way. Good deal, local Internet man points out the obvious. Article finished.”
(Wait, come back!)
Like Hameline before her, Lupa still views herself as the outsider of the story, unwilling to show her true self to anyone because that would involve having to give something up in return. In this case, sharing the burden of her true objective she’s been carrying this whole time. Having been a lone wolf for so long, she fails to recognize the new path that’s been laid in front of her — a refusal of the call, if you will. Instead, she further isolates, taking shelter in Hurlä’s safehouse while the rest recover. Unsure of where to go and with no one to confide upon, once again, she’s all on her own now…
…At least, that’s what she believes.
“That’s Trust”
For Lupa to truly move forward, she has to move past her assumptions, remove any lingering doubts and recognize what’s right in front of her. She needs help for the burden that lies ahead, but the fear of rejection and pride of showing vulnerability is what prevents her making the first move. Alternatively, she could just be an introvert by nature, and there are enough moments within the text to support that theory, with the biggest tell being her indirectness towards others.
Admittedly, this could also be me reading into this far too much! Still, as an introvert myself, it can be hard to find people to relate to or ask for things directly. It’s not an impossible task, but 9 times out of 10, sometimes it takes a gentle nudge from another person to initiate that first step. So, imagine my surprise when that individual in Lupa’s story ends up being another introvert who until recently hid from the rest of the world, refusing to make himself known out of fear for his own safety.
As the person who has walked closely in her shoes, Diabal recognizes their hosts inherit trust and goodwill towards them has been there all along despite their previous circumstances as enemies. Just as Seth was able to break through his older brother leading to their reunion here in Bome as they confidently fought side by side, Diabal offers the same for Lupa, telling her it’s okay to be honest with them — and herself. After all, they’ve worked together, fought alongside one another and even let her hold onto Hameline’s Nemeses, the very objective that instigated this entire arc, now reclaimed and in the hands of someone who understands its true value. If nothing else, is there any reason at this point that would lead them to mistrust her intentions?
With further doubts put to rest, Lupa approaches them and tells her story. The work she’s been doing behind the scenes with Hameline, Adhès’s endgame and the plan to use his own tools against him as he threatens to unleash Armageddon should Project Tartarus reach full completion. But with Hameline gone now, she can no longer rely on her wizardry to achieve their promise. In desperation, she turns to the same team that were once her enemies for help. No more secrets or disguises, just open honesty and communication as she stands in front of Seth and company hoping that her plea is answered…
The Wolf and the Stars (Final Thoughts)
In the story of Ragnarök, the wolf Sköll devours the sun while his brother Hati eats the moon. In the story of Radiant, one could argue that Lupa and Hameline are two wolves in their stories. “But wait, Dark Aether!” I hear my lore experts about to correct me. “Isn’t one the wolf tamer and the other a rat catcher?” Yes, that’s true, and while this may be a bit of stretch on my part, hear me out. There’s one small detail I’ve neglected to bring up until now.
You see, Sköll means “treachery” or “one who mocks” in old Norse while Hati is “hatred” or “one who hates.” In Radiant, Hameline’s hatred for the humans who ruined her life set the stage for her to return to the islet of her creation — on a moonlit night no less (for viewers of the anime). As for Lupa, she was left for dead on the streets by a world uncaring of her existence until the day she met the one who would give her life new meaning, only to be taken away as she cursed the sun, all the while the world kept turning in its indifference to her grief.
In this version, neither one ends up devouring their respective targets. Hameline ultimately gives up on punishing the townsfolk after a change in heart, preventing the eternal night that would have befallen. And though Lupa “catches” the sun on more than one occasion — Seth, quite literally at the beginning! — she also switches sides in order to prevent Ragnarök (technically Tartarus, but any version of hell in this context).
Despite not sharing as much of the spotlight or page space as other characters, I think what most spoke to me in the making of this essay was Lupa’s character growth towards that conditional trust. Like a lot of relationships in Radiant, it’s one that’s predominantly defined by cause and effect, external factors and tragedy, but what’s unique in Lupa’s tale is her newfound trust isn’t entirely resolved or made whole by one individual. It’s a work in progress filled in by several people.
After learning the truth about Hameline’s death, Lupa doesn’t share in Seth’s aspirational dream of coexistence of finding the Radiant. Nor does she warm up to Ocoho’s idealism and ethical concerns of right and wrong. She’s stubborn to cling onto her old perceptions, even after Diabal gives his big pep talk. But through these experiences, she gains some valuable perspectives, even appreciation for what they bring to the table. In some ways, she wants to believe in the possibility of change.
Though she can’t go along Seth’s pipe dream, she knows her sister put her trust in him and wants to understand her motives better through his light. Despite their differences and arguing, she sees Ocoho’s determination and love for her friends are genuine by her refusal to abandon them even when the odds are stacked against them, prompting Lupa to ensure their safe escape. And for all her stubbornness, all it took was Diabal’s willingness to step out of the shadows and show her the way. Not only by proving that their team of misfits can be trusted, but by letting her open her heart and move forward for the first time since her sister’s passing.
So, she tells her story — and asks for help.
When I got to the end of this essay, I wasn’t happy with the previous iterations of this draft. In fact, I count no less than three versions of the main body that I had to rework to make proper sense! This arc has been on my mind a lot lately and it’s hard to overstate the sheer volume of ideas, themes and character dynamics on display.
It’s not every day I get to open a volume and bounce from an action-packed scene of aerial theatrics and elemental manipulation to political strife between king and country, governmental powers and some vigilantism here and there. To say nothing of the complexity of our main heroes’ budding relationships — some wholesome, some distant and everywhere in between — as well as some of the difficult circumstances each of them land into during their extended stay in Bome.
Frankly, it’s overwhelming!
What’s equally overwhelming is trust. It’s the crucial backbone towards healthy relationships, mutual understanding and sometimes the difference between life and death. Perhaps that’s one reason why Radiant makes it a point to circle back to it even in the story’s darkest hour. Not every character and relationship are weighed equally, some fracture under pressure from external factors, others blossom when push comes to shove, and not every hero with good intentions gets rewarded or villain receives equivalent punishment for their atrocities.
Because life, my dear reader, has a funny way of taking one’s light clad hand and showing you the truth about this irrational world. Sure, you can most certainly tackle it alone, but you don’t have to if you want to tag along. You can be strong and shed tears for a loved one or fear the coming calamity, but you can share the pain if it becomes unbearable. Even in those dark moments, whether you’ve committed one or several mistakes, sometimes, all you can do is have faith and trust in something bigger than one’s self.
Because every now and then, that bravery to step forward deserves to be recognized, a cry for help answered and an act of faith rewarded with mutual trust, whatever form it may take.
“Because, I can show you the future, if you’ll permit me to.”
In the story of Ragnarök, the world is engulfed in endless winter until the clash of the gods destroys the world, starting with the death of the sun and moon. In Radiant, the wolves that chased the sun and moon became one with the stars — creating two once more. A wolf that rekindled her faith in humanity swearing to uphold her sister’s final request to create a better world through the trust that’s been instilled by her new companions, and a wolf that loved her younger sister enough to know that she would be okay without her.
In other words, “to live.”
(Editor’s Note [3/6/24]: a reader reached out and notified me that I had been using “Dormitors” instead of “Domitors.” For some reason, my mind inserted an “r” or I’ve been mispronouncing it this entire time! Upon double checking the localization, I have corrected all instances here and previously. Thanks to Neptune9095 for pointing this out!)
All screenshots and media captured from my computer and phone using the original source, unless otherwise noted.
Dark Aether is a writer/contributor for TAY and AniTAY. You can check his main writings on Medium, archives at TAY2, or follow him on Twitter @TheGrimAether. Not Dead Yet.
Twin Wolves (More Radiant)
