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Authors Note: Happy Birthday, to me! This is a reverse birthday gift, from me to all of you! In case you've forgotten or just haven't seen it around half a year ago, I set up a thread for snippets and dropped a bunch of idea titles for stores I want to write. Unfortunately, my poor writing skills and constant ideas for other stuff kept me from ever truly being able to just sit down and write a real story. That ends today! My hopes for the Cosmeric Tales is, while Brandon is typing out his doorstoppers with his feet, I'll try to tide you over with smaller stories, mostly separate from Brandon's, that could 'plausibly' have or will happen in the Cosmere. By god it's been a while but thanks to this experience, It'll be a much smoother ride for me to give this site the stories it deserves, or needs. Either one. So without further ado! I give you the first of the Cosmeric Tales! The Duststalker Prologue The gunshots echoed throughout the town. Dek couldn’t help but flinch at every single one, he’d never heard so many in a single night in all his life. The only impulse flashing through his mind was to get himself and his younger brother Nid as far away from those horrible sounds as fast as he could. Unfortunately for him, his brother had other ideas. “Dek, lemme go! I can help!” Nid pleaded with his brother. But the young adult wouldn’t hear it, “No, nonono, rust that, we’re not going near that at all! We’re getting to town hall and praying that the conners can deal with this.” Dek fired back, while pulling his brother along. “B-but it’s never been this bad before! What if they can’t?!” Nid yelled back. “If they can’t, then we stay right bloody quiet till this all blows over.” Dek’s frazzled reply did nothing to assuage the younger boy. Nid stopped walking, then Dek jerked to a stop, unable to pull his brother along anymore. He turned to glare at Nid. “This is not the time for this Nid! Stop showing off and let’s go!” He barked. Nid returned the glare and ripped his hand out of his brother’s grip, “You go! I’m gonna try and do something instead of just hiding!” He yelled. Dek balked at this, “Are you out of your rusted mind?! You’ll be killed!” “I can help! I’m metalborn aren’t I, I can do this!” Nid was adamant. Why? Why did his brother have to have these damn thoughts, acting like he could do anything? Why couldn’t the brat see that Dek was just trying to keep him safe. “No! You’re not a lawman Nid! You’re just a kid! Now come on!” He tried to pull his younger brother’s arm, trying to drag him to safety by force if he had to. The boy still didn’t budge. Nid glared at his brother, then tore out of Dek’s grip once more, “I’ll show you I can do it, I’ll prove it!” He yelled at his older brother as he started to sprint away, appearing to skim across the ground as he did so, like a skipping stone. Dek froze in place, he knew he couldn’t stop Nid, not really. If he tried to go after him, he’d be risking his own life. If he didn’t go, his idiot of a brother would probably get himself killed. He wasn’t bulletproof for god’s sake! Nid was still moving and was starting to leave his sight. He bit his lip so hard it almost bled. “Harmony’s lost balls!” Dek bit out as he turned and sprinted towards the gun fight. Dek kept to the edges of walls as he ran, doing his best to avoid where the gunshots were frequent while following his brother. He turned a corner in pursuit and saw his brother running towards a much larger man, dressed in a vest with a wild mane of black hair. He was pointing a gun towards a cowering woman, a hearty and cruel laughing echoing from him. It ended when his gun ripped its way out of his hand, flying in the air towards Nid. The boy dashed to the side to avoid it slamming into him. The outlaw turned towards the boy with shock plastered on his face “What the hel-”. Nid yelled as he sped up to the man and leapt, slamming into him shoulder first. The former gunman gasped as Nid tackled him straight into the dirt. Nid climbed to his feet and watched as the frightened woman fled away further into town. The boy winced as he rubbed his shoulder, while Dek was left stunned upon witnessing what had just happened, he’d never admit it to his brother but what had just happened was incredible, he’d just taken down an armed man nearly twice his size in seconds. Nid stood above the man and looked back at Dek with surprise written on his face, “Dek? You came-” He was interrupted by the bandit quickly rising and punching him in the chest, sending Nid to the ground. Nid let out a pained gasp as he fell and grasped his chest, gasping for air he no longer had. Dek was shocked as the bandit started to stand up, he knew that the kind of tackles Nid gave were the kind a normal man didn’t just get up and walk away from. Not so easily at least. A fearful thought flashed in his mind, ‘Metalborn’. “Ya little rustin’ bastard!” The bandit snarled as he stood up and stood over Nid, preparing to stomp down on his head. Dek rushed the man, then pushed him away from his downed brother as hard as he could, the outlaw barely stumbled and caught Dek by the face, then shoved him back with brutal force. Dek felt as though his neck had nearly snapped in two. He fell and landed harshly on his back, the furious man stomping towards him, “You shoulda waited for yer turn boy!” he growled out. Dek trembled at the threat, was he about to die? Was Nid going to die? He saw a glint next to him. A revolver, the bandit’s gun. The one Nid had torn from the man’s hands earlier. He frantically reached for it, wrapping his hands around its handle as he pointed at the outlaw. The bandit’s eyes widened as he tried to reach for Dek. Trying to stop him. But it was too late, Dek’s finger twitched on the trigger and the gun fired. A bang echoed through the night as the bandit stumbled to a stop. He brought his hands to his neck where the bullet had gouged through. The man who had just tried to murder the boys gave a weak gurgle, then collapsed to the dirt, blood pooling around his head. Dek sat there in shock. He’d just shot and killed a man. The man had tried to kill him and his brother, he was protecting them! He was in trouble for this, he must have been. You couldn’t just shoot someone, right? It all felt wrong, he’d taken a life and now he felt as though he was going to throw up. A pained cough broke past his spiraling thoughts. Nid still laid on the ground, curled up around his chest. Dek dropped the gun and stumbled over to his brother, kneeling beside him as he spoke, “Nid, Nid look at me!” He urged desperately. Nid lifted his head, gasping all the while, “Can’t. Breathe.” He gasped out. Did that man break Nid’s ribs? Had they punctured through his lungs? Was Nid going to die anyway? Dek shook his head, “Nono, you can. Deep breathes okay, in and out Nid. In and out.” Nid’s breathing slowly calmed from erratic to deep. Dek lifted Nid’s black shirt and saw a large bruise right on the center of his chest. He tried to feel around it, Nid gave a groan as he did but Dek didn’t feel anything wrong, at least he was pretty sure. Harmony help him, he wasn’t a rusting doctor! “Okay, we need to go. Lose some weight and I’ll carry you.” Nid gave a nod as Dek began to lift him. He struggled at first, then it was almost like he was holding a sack of flour instead of a mid-teen boy. A neat trick Nid had been lucky enough to be born with, they called it Feruchemy. Dek rushed back the way they came. “Still think it was a good idea to play lawman?” Dek couldn’t help but jab at Nid. “Shut it” he mumbled out. Well, all Dek could do was hope he learned from this. The town hall was nearly in sight, they were so close to safety. A terrified squeal rang out from behind as Dek turned his head towards it. He nearly tripped when he saw an enormous shirtless man wearing shredded pants, metal lining its buckle, standing almost taller than a house and his dark skin seemed too tight around such a mountain of muscle. With his hands above his head he carried a horse, it struggled and squirmed in the man’s giant grip. The man grunted then with a yell of effort, took a step forward and threw the horse. It sailed above the boys’ heads, the sight had them frozen as the horse sailed through the air, screeching as it did. It smashed through the wall of the town hall, the building shook and the sounds of screaming echoed from the building. Dek just stood there, holding his brother as his mind struggled to understand what had just happened. The thundering footsteps behind shook him back to reality as he remembered the Koloss of a man that was now beginning to step towards them. Dek could say nothing, he simply gave a frightened scream as he sprinted away with his brother in his arms. Giving into fear as he ran, his heart thumping in his ears. They needed to leave, get out of town, hide in the rusting bush for a week for all he cared. Just be anywhere besides right in front of a bandit that could chuck a horse like a brick! He could feel his brother’s breathing becoming shallow and uneven as he struggled to breathe once again. His rhythm startled by the chaos that seemed to follow them. Dek couldn’t pay attention to it, not when every part of his mind screamed at him to run, not when he himself started to struggle for breath as his legs protested the strain of such a long sprint. The enormous man was lumbering behind them, but he seemed too slow, they were quickly losing him. Dek sprinted through the town, he went behind buildings and across streets to evade the man. The starry sky giving just enough light to see where he was, among the gunfire there was a shrill laughter in the air, Dek looked around, then in the distance where the gunshots were most frequent, saw a shadow flying through the air in the distance, visible only through the stars they blocked with their passing. Was that a person? He didn’t know and didn’t care. He kept running. Dek paused as they rounded past another house, catching his breath. He didn’t hear the footsteps anymore, they must have lost him. He looked at his brother, whose eyes were fluttering as he tried to steady his breathing, he was doing poorly. Dek shook him “C’mon Nid, don’t go to sleep, it is not a good time for that!”. Nid tried to focus through the pain, he looked at Dek, his eyes glistening, “Sorry…” he gasped out. Dek shook his head, “Be sorry later, just stay awake and I’ll get us out of here”. He tried to say with more confidence than he felt. Any confidence he had was shattered as a loud voice shouted not far from them,” This way! He’s going this way!”. Dek cursed, they were being followed! How did they know where they were? Was that giant some kind of tracker? He rushed between houses and made it to a larger area with stands and carts full of amenities, the markets. They were near the edge of town. So close. Dek tripped as his brother’s weight returned to normal. Dek checked his brother, and to his horror, Nid was unconscious. “Of all the bloody times! Damn it Nid wake up!” He tapped as he tapped his brother’s face, but there was no response, he was out cold. Dek felt the sweat fall down his pale face and into his red scarf, he was already tired just from running but he couldn’t carry his brother’s actual weight, he wasn’t used to it. He looked around frantically, he could hear the shouting of bandits coming closer, the gunshots that had once been far had gotten closer, too close. The sounds of the gunfight had moved towards them, why? Were the outlaws pushing towards the markets? Had the constables fallen back? As he spotted a mostly empty crate next to a stand selling some kind of black sand, an idea struck him. He dragged Nid towards it and struggled to stuff him in it, his brother was thankfully a bit smaller than most other kids his age. Thank Harmony for that. After putting the lid over the crate, hiding Nid’s unconscious body from sight, he crouched behind the stand itself. He’d done it, he’d hidden his brother, now what about himself? Dek froze as he realized he hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was too late, he could hear the bandits enter the markets, he heard a loud, graveled voice call out “Lost him, damn. Alright boys, Hezen and Dashei have got the conner’s on the ropes. Spread out, grab all the supplies that aren’t tied down! I want you all to grab food, water, and any metal we need by the armful. Bring them back to the carriages within the hour!” Dek heard their footsteps scatter. He stayed still, hoping he was unseen. He could hear a heavy set of footsteps near the stand he was hidden under. He heard a dark chuckle, full of mirth and malice. It sent a chill down his spine to hear it, but the next words spoken made his heart stop. “Ya fingers are pokin’ out.” The stand was lifted and thrown over Dek’s head, the jars of black sand smashing on the ground Dek whirled his head back at the monster that now loomed over him. Dark blue skin, with patches of gray, was stretched tightly over muscle, the skin of his face was pulled into a horrid, tooth-filled grin. Dark red eyes stared back into his hazel ones, Dek couldn’t muster the will to run, scream or even breathe as the beast stood over him. A rough pair of hands grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up with inhuman strength, a laugh full of unbridled sadism came from the one holding him up. “Thought ya could hide, huh? Not a bloody chance, now let’s have some fun!” The beast began to squeeze him by the shoulders, Dek screamed as he felt his arms being slowly crushed. “That’s enough Kev, drop him.” The gravelly voice from before ordered, the hands loosened and Dek fell back to the ground. The one who tried to crush him, Kev, turned with an annoyed groan, “Come on, Thev! I’m just doin’ my thing!” He whined. Dek turned his head to see them. Two men, with mottled blue skin. Koloss-blooded. Kev was dressed in ragged, torn clothing, his black hair a wild mess. The other, Thev, dressed in a more intact suit with a vest, seeming much cleaner than Kev. Dek looked beside himself without turning his head, the crate wasn’t knocked over. Thev rolled his eyes to Kev, “Yes, your ‘thing’, turning people into red smears on the ground with your bare hands.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do try to remember we need some alive.” The descendant of Koloss looked at Dek with discerning eyes, “And this one looks worth keeping alive.” Kev turned back to look at Dek’s frightened face, then leered. “Yeah, he does.” He walked back to Dek and grabbed his face as he continued, “He’s gonna scream well, I think.” Then slammed Dek’s head into the ground, then Dek saw no more. The last thought on his mind was a prayer to Harmony, praying for his brother’s safety.

Hi all! I've been writing a flash fic (~1000 words or less) every day this month to celebrate Femslash February, following the minifemslashfeb2024 prompts! There are characters from all across the Cosmere. If you have any requests for pairings, send me an ask on tumblr or write a comment here. If you are only interested in fics rated General or Teen, click here - I've filtered them for you! If you are only interested in fics rated Mature or Explicit, click here. For all the fics, click here. The Collection will be updated daily! And if you are interested in other femslash fics, follow the Gal Palanaeum on tumblr for fic and art from others too!

Hello again, this time I bring you the first part of the fanfic. I plan to publish it in full once it's finished, but would appreciate feedback on the prose. In Spanish, I imitated Sanderson's type of writing, however, when it comes to translation, I can see how adaptation can have some problems. I used Google Doocks Auto Translate and spent half the month fixing what I noticed was wrong, but I still have some questions. In Spanish we usually try to avoid repeating words, especially pronouns. As we have words that refer to the person themselves, such as: "He carried his leather backpack, a wooden plate on his chest, his purse and a dueling staff that he hid behind the tentacles of his cloak." in Spanish it is "Llevaba su mochila de cuero, una placa de madera en el pecho, su monedero y un bastón de duelo que ocultaba detrás de los tentáculos de su capa" And I was wondering if the extra pronouns were normal, or just me not knowing how to adapt the text correctly. Also, the protagonist name, Calima, is synonymous with a specific type of fog, which unfortunately has no English version, and I was wondering if it would be better to leave it that way, or call it mist, fog, or haze. This and other suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Fragile as haze, part one.pdf

(Mild Oathbringer spoilers) The Blue Envelope with the Bronze Seal Rated Teen, 6000 words Summary: In a world in which soulmates exist, Sigzil rejects his to embark on an entirely different kind of adventure. Chapter 1 For being such an expansive auditorium crammed with so many people, it was unnerving to hear such a large silence. Sigzil was half-certain that everyone could hear the thumping of his heart. Certainly he could hear that one of the adjudicators standing against a far wall was chewing something. Focus. He stared at the top sheet of the pages in front of him, hands in his lap, willing the test to start. Would he even be able to concentrate while he was this nervous? He could hear clothing rustling as his fellow applicants adjusted their robes and wraps; the nervous tapping of pens, quickly self-chastened back to stillness; then at last, one set of footsteps, ringing clearly through the hall like bells. “You may begin.” Finally! Sigzil flipped over the first page eagerly, then skimmed through the length of the test, evaluating the difficulty of the questions to ease his mind a little. This would be a good place to start: actuarial questions. Get through those, and then he could start on the history of— The sound of whispering distracted him, and he glanced at the doorway to find a tall, large woman in high ranked scion’s robes in a huddle with two of the guards. They looked up, directly at him. Oh, Yaezir guide me, he thought miserably, and snapped back to the pages in front of him. If I get kicked out just for looking up, my parents will kill me. More footsteps, this time the heavy thud of boots. They sounded like they were getting closer, but Sigzil didn’t dare look up. He frowned, trying to concentrate. Calculate the merchant’s profit, and then subtract the taxes for the Prime, given Hazep’s Rule of Sixths. Consult the table of risks— The footsteps got louder, then louder. He covered one ear as he scribbled. Average distance of goods, value of goods…hold on. Are they delivered by ship or over land? Oh Pali, of course it’s both— Two looming shadows darkened the desk. A gauntleted arm knocked the pen from Sigzil’s hand, and it landed with a crack against the bronze floor. Sigzil watched numbly as his lucky pen shattered into a thousand pieces under the rows of desks. “Oops, I do apologize,” a gruff voice said, but Sigzil felt like the words were travelling to him underwater. Then two large hands grabbed him under the armpits and yanked him to standing. He hardly heard what came next. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us, Citizen Cheater.” Keep reading

21 fanfic authors got together for a Cosmere fanfic gift exchange with a femslash theme! All fics focus on at least two female characters from across the Cosmere. Fics range from General to Explicit ratings. The fanfic reveal was on Sep 26th, 2023 - Bi Shallan confirmation day! You can find fics for pairings like Shallan/Tyn, Navani/Kalami, Shan/Vin, Azure/Jasnah, pairings from Yumi and Tress, and more! Check out the Collection here.

I had always wanted to write a Stormlight Fanfiction, but never did until now. The working title is Watcher. The main story takes place during the same period as Oathbringer and Rhythm or War, but the prologue is significantly earlier. Prologue (spoilers for Rhythm of War): I’ll try to posted chapters daily. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

This is my first fan fiction, and as you can tell I'm not a very good writer. I just had an idea that I wanted to write down. Its a Stormlight Mistborn Era 2 crossover. Right now its only a few paragraphs.

I've had many ideas for fanfictions, some of them involved the Cosmere and I really, really want to talk about them. So here I go. This idea is Mistborn Symphony, a story that takes place in between Era 1 and 2, Era 1.5 if you will. Scadrial is very different from the way it should be, due to the Shards of Preservation and Ruin not being in harmony. This has led to Scadrial being fixed somewhat incorrectly with the continents being cracked apart into a massive archipelago. Humanity was saved, though life isn't as easy. The Mists have changed, they no longer cover the entire world, they are usually found far from civilization. They are also composed of both Preservation and Ruin, and they still Snap people into Allomancers, though a bit differently. Instead of merely awakening what's already there, pieces of the Mists leak into the soul and raise both the Innate Investiture of Preservation. and Ruin. On the plus side, the Mists can turn anyone (provided they are Scadrian) into a Misting! The bad news is that they also curse those foolish enough to enter the Mists with a horrific Malady that will stay with them until the end of their lives. The Mists are known in these days as the Maladic Mists. The type of Malady given to someone depends on what type of Misting they become. For example Bronze Mistings have their sense of hearing become hypersensitive, making even mundane conversation painful to hear. Heres the chart of Maladies that I have written up, feel free to come up with your own: The purpose of the Maladies in this story are because I want Allomancy to be more common, but for there to be to be a high price for the ease of acquiring it. A Malady functions similarly like a Curse from the Old Magic of Roshar. It is part of the soul and no one will know how to use Hemalurgy to separate them. It can also be inherited by children. The Maladic Mists will probably just kill unprotected Worldhoppers. Plus it also adds a cool environmental danger like the Highstorms of Roshar. Scadrians have discovered that certain Rhythms that resemble Bronze Pulses can influence the Mists in certain ways, making it safer for ships to sail through. So Symphonics, people trained to play the Allomantic Rhythms, are an important part of any ship's crew, not only protecting the crew from the Mists but also playing music to ease the monotony of a long journey. A constant threat are pirates, especially criminals who willingly become cursed with maladies in exchange for power greater than the average man. These necasitate that crews should have their own Metalborn, resulting in most crews having Metalborn of their own, some Natural and others Maladic. This story will follow the path of a boy, a descendant of the Keepers, as he has been proclaimed to be the True Hero of Ages. He has been sent on a journey to discover his past, with his crew consisting of many interesting individuals, such as a Maladic Seeker who claims to have been taught by Death himself, a Mysterious Mistborn running from her past, and others they will meet along the way. What do you guys think?

A Day In The Life Of A Coinshot Courier Part 1 (Mistborn Era 2) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Throughout the Cosmere, there have been many stories told on many worlds, each as unique and meaningful as the birth of a star. This is a story in a world formerly covered by Mist and Ash, a world where heroes became legends and gods had died, a world that would soon rest in the hands of a courageous Allomancer, the champion of Harmony, fighting against the forces that sought to unmake everything he had ever known. This is not the story of that particular Allomancer. This is the story of another Allomancer being woken up by his absurdly loud alarm clock. With it's rapid ringing echoing throughout his rather small bedroom. In the middle of this room was a mattress laying on the floor, with a lump covered with a blanket on the top of it. The top of this lump shifted the blanket revealing a head full of unkempt black hair. The head shifted until facing the window next to his mattress. Tim gave a soft groan as he blearily opened his eyes, he then preceded to close them and groan louder as he was blinded by the light coming from his window, facing the sun as it was rising. "Oh bloody rusting..." Tim annoyedly murmured out loud as he sat up and rubbed his eyes before trying to silence the ringing of the infernal contraption that he regretted buying every morning. After feeling around for it on his nightstand, while nearly swiping a vial filled with oil and metal flakes off by accident, he slammed his hand on the top of it, allowing his room to be drenched in blessed silence. Despite the warmth of his banket enticing Timothy back to sleep he knew he had other obligations for the day, so after throwing off the blanket and standing up he went over to his wardrobe and got changed into his usual work clothes, a plain black shirt and pants, with a belt rimmed with pockets. "Gee, real daring today aren't you Tim?" He snarked at himself for how basic his choice always was. As he left his room he made sure to snag the four vials sitting next to his accursed alarm clock and the two small bags of coins under his mattress, tucking each of them into his belt pockets. Timothy Elariel, or just Tim as he preferred to be known, lived in a quaint little apartment in the fifth Octant of Elendel. Within view of the, rather overcompensating in his own humble opinion, Tekiel Tower. He disliked how it took up so much of the cityscape, why did buildings even have to be built so rusting tall anyway? He supposed that it came down to whichever arrogant idiot was currently running the oh-so great House Tekiel. Not that Tim really gave a rusting damn how proper nobles did things, he had more important tasks to deal with, such as getting his own breakfast ready. Checking his cupboards showed they were becoming quite bare, he'd have to have a shopping trip soon. He grabbed a packet of oats and turned on his stove to boil some water. While his body went through the motions of cooking his thoughts strayed to the rest of his day. If he remembered right he'd need to deliver five packages before noon, then six more before he could clock off. As Tim sat down and began eating a bowlful of tasteless, bland oats one spoonful at a time he realized that when he did go out for more food, he should try to fit honey into the list so he actually enjoy breakfast instead of just leaving it half-eaten all the time. He'd need to cut something else out of the list, perhaps cod oil? It wasn't as if he didn't already have enough for the next week or so. Heck he could just put his steel flakes into empty vials if he had to, it wouldn't make that much of a difference. As he changed his mental shopping list he stood up, leaving behind a half-eaten bowl of oats, he walked out of his apartment while locking his door behind him then started to go for the stairs, there were a few people walking past him, also leaving for work. They went around him, trying not to make eye contact, they knew what he was. Tim tried not to let that bother him, it wasn't as if he was actually a noble these days. He supposed that the difference between a noble metalborn and a regular metalborn would be rather meaningless in the eyes of the average person as he went up the stairs to the roof. He debated whether he should check his mail, then decided to leave that for later so he could at least try to enjoy his day at work. Most people wouldn't go up to the roof unless they were having a smoke, but Tim was not most people. He came onto the roof, the apartment complex he was living in was one of the larger buildings in the neighborhood. He walked right up to the edge of the roof, peered over it to remind himself just how far up he was, six stories up, a height that would unnerve most others, all it did for Tim was put a smile on his face. He grabbed a few coins from his belt pouches in preparation. He breathed in a deep breath, pulled one of his vials from his belt, opened it and drank it's contents. Immediately he felt that familiar warmth within his body, a well of power at his beck and call. His Allomancy. As he began to lightly Burn his steel, Tim saw the familiar blue lines spread from his chest, leading to all metals around him. With his heart beginning to race he leaped off of the roof and began to fall. Then when he Flared his steel and Pushed on the pipes and framework of the building behind him, he flew. Within Timothy's blood existed a power that all coveted, the power to Burn metals for supernatural abilities. The metal he could Burn was steel, which made Tim a Coinshot, the most well known of all Mistings. Timothy was grateful for living in Elendel, though living tended to be hard if you weren't a noble, the sheer amount of metal a Coinshot like him could Push off of made even the simple experience of going to work an absolute blast. He was well experienced in how to Push oneself around the city and it showed in how his feet rarely touched the ground, he Pushed off of anything that could get him higher and further. He looked down at the street, seeing the people walking around stopping and staring at him in amazement, he saw the occasional automobile and scoffed at them. They were faster transportation than carriages by a large margin, but they were incredibly noisy and hideously expensive to buy and even keep. He was glad that he'd never need to buy one. Not that he could afford it. His distraction caused his Pushing skills to slip and he accidentally Pushed on a lamp post at the wrong angle, sending him hurtling towards the wall of a building, Tim gritted his teeth and Flared his Steel, Pushing several coins to the floor at breakneck speeds and as they hit the floor they sent him hurtling above the building. He managed to land somewhat gently on the roof and let out a sigh of relief. He looked back and saw that the lamp post was bent wrong from his Push, Tim winced. "Harmony I hope that doesn't get posted in a broadsheet" He said to himself. He took a minute to catch his breath and let his jitters pass. He let this be a reminder to himself, even if he knew what he was doing, he should never get distracted while Steelpushing himself around the city. That would only end more close calls for himself. He threw down another coin and Pushed himself to the next roof. Soon enough he was back to enjoying the freedom of movement throughout the city, then soon after that his favorite pastime came to an end as he made it to his place of employment. Quicksilver Deliveries, a small courier company that was lucky enough to sit right across from the Fifth Octants smaller railway station. Tim tossed a coin down near the door and brought himself down, Pushing lightly enough on the coin to make the landing soft. "Time to get to work" Tim murmured to himself as he entered the establishment to begin his day of labor. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: Hey everyone. Just trying to finally grind my [Writing] Skill over here. I'll be doing this until the neurons in my brain finally decide to get with the memo. Then I'll be posting some actual stories onto Spacebattles. In the mean time I hope you enjoy my first attempts at actually writing stuff. If you have any criticisms, I'd like to hear them so I know how to improve. This particular snippet is an idea I've actually had for a while, but as with many of my writing ideas I've just never stuck with it long enough to get through the planning phase and start writing it out, so I've decided to stop planning so much and just let my fingers type what they want and keep going until I'm satisfied with what I've written. This idea was born through the thought of just how amazing it must be to be a Coinshot Courier, being able to Push yourself throughout a cityscape in a psuedo-flight, experiencing an incredible experience everyday as a job. I kind of wish Brandon had showed us more of the fantastical mundanity of Metalborn finding ways to profit themselves with their powers, instead of just telling us about them. But I'm not too hung up about it, that's what Fanfics are for! Besides we'll probably be seeing more of this kind of stuff in Era 3.

So recently I had one of many cosmere inspired dreams. In which the singers came to our plant instead of roshar (strange I know, I don't understand my brain). Essentially plot followed much along the lines of the books. Desolation comes and radiants appear and the battle for earth begins. Still working out the logistics of why bullets and such would not suffice (Beyond the carapace being strong enough to maybe deflect bullets not block them). Though an everstorm did knock out a lot of the infrastructure of human civilizations. My dreams get weirdly detailed I don't know why. The second idea I had was for a member of the 17th shard who is something of an anthropologist studying the various cultures and customs of the cosmere to bring back to silverlight. Granted over time certain issues may push against the 17th shard's non interventionist policies (there will be worldhopping). Have not decided on the home world of the OC's and such. Just curious if either of these sound interesting to anyone and if anyone has any suggestions to make things more interesting. As always thanks for reading and taking the time to comment.

Here's a short fanfic I wrote about Syl's original Radiant. I posted it on Reddit before so I thought I'd share it here as well. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Syl screamed, she felt a horrible ripping sensation as if her very being was being torn away, and then suddenly she was standing in Shadesmar somehow balancing on the sea of beads, and in front of her stood Relador with his wispy long beard glowing faintly. "You... Died.." she said, emotion welling through her. "Looks like it," said Relador, looking around sheepishly. "You know, when I said I always wanted to visit your homeland, I didn't think it would be under these circumstances." "I can't believe this" Syl said, sinking slightly into the ocean of beads clutching her head in pain. "If I never found you and dragged you into this war this never would have happened!" "Hey!" Relador said, grabbing her arms gently, "What's the motto Syl? Journey BEFORE Destination, and what a journey it's been" he said looking at her intensely with those sapphire eyes. "Before I met you, I was this grumpy old hermit living in the outskirts of my village, interacting with no one, feeling bitter and alone like my life had ended. And then you came along and Storms Syl I got to ride the winds because of YOU. I got to see the world and protect so many people, you took an old man who had given up on life, and turned him into an oldish man who realized his life was still worth something. I wouldn't give up these last few years for a century of life. Do you understand?" " I guess..." she hesitated, "But I know losing you will devastate me, I won't be able to function again." Relador puled her into a hug and spoke gently into her ear "You WILL be able to function, because you're made of pieces of divinity, isn't that what you're always telling me huh? Let me tell you what you're going to do. You're going to take 2 days, and just 2 mind you, and you're going to mourn this weak old man. Then after that you will go back to the physical world and you go find someone to bond again, you're too important to sit out this fight. Go find yourself a young lad this time, a real soldier, someone who can really take care of himself and others in a fight, not like this old fool who could barely swing a sword straight. Be with him, grow with him, so you can truly understand what it means to be human. He pulled back a bit so their foreheads were touching. That's when she noticed that she was crying, it was an odd sensation she didn't even know that spren could cry. "And Syl, be the same Light for him as you were for me, guide him through the dark times and I KNOW together you both will save us all and end these perpetual wars." He pulled back and stood up tall, she could see that tears were forming in his eyes too. "One last question" Syl said "Is this it then? Is this Loss? Like what you felt when that boy drowned in the flood all those years ago?" "Yes," he said looking down. "An emotion I had hoped you would never come to understand Syl, but I know you will be able to bear it and continue your journey without me." As she stared at him she noticed him stretching and fading away. His eyes filled with equal parts terror and determination "Sylphrena!" He said in one last attempt to be with her. "Maybe take 3 days? It is ME after all" he said giving her that characteristic wink that let him get away with anything as long as some woman was involved. Despite herself, she gave a short laugh and watched as he finally faded into the Beyond. And just like that she remembered, all the times sitting by different fires in different villages, rejoicing at listening to stories, watching him care for the people he met, protecting them when he could, truly LIVING as he was meant to. Suddenly Syl felt exhausted, wrung out, and slowly started sinking into the beads... "Yes," she thought. "That's what I'll do, I'll just rest here for 3 days and then I'll go back and bond again. She mumbled a single word as her eyes began to close and ocean engulfed her. "Kaladin." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Just thought I'd share a story of how I imagined Syl's first bond ended. It came to me as a kind of opposite to how Teft died with his spren. This might have been more peaceful and gave them both some closure

I'm creating a story that takes place on scadrial Era 2, It won't use any of the pre-established character, but maybe a few cameos (it also may reference the Set), I have the outline here: If you could ask questions about this mess, thus giving me the oppurtunity expound on the idea in a relevant way to my projected audience, that would be appreciated. (think of it like real time audience testing) if you could critque my ideas that would also be nice Background: The main character (Working name: Caduel) lost his arm as a child while working in the factory. Despite the tragedy of the event he did gain two things from the experience, the ability to burn iron and a mysterious slug like creature that shape shifted into his new arm. Six years later Cad works for "Travin's Allomantic Services", sketchy for-hire buisness that rents out a variety of allomancers for both legal and less-than-legal jobs. It is only when several of the hired allomancers go mysteriously go missing that Cad's curiousity gets the better of him cause him to get wrapped up in a web of conspiracy, politics, and hemalurgy. It is up to Cad to use his power, his wit and boundless luck, stop the atrocity or lose everything he's ever known, and perhaps a friend he didn't.

I came up with a world a few years ago, and last week I thought "Why don't I turn it into a fan fiction?" The story starts in a world I created, and then moves to Roshar. I have 2 chapters done, and I will post more later if anyone likes it. Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Hoid's 100% Correct true Cosmere Facts Hoid decides to have a bit of fun with his new penpal Harmony. Full Mistborn & Stormlight spoilers. My first-ever Cosmere fic, inspired by this thread. Feel free to comment with your own Correct True Facts.

Welp, now that I've finished Dawnshard, I'm back to reading this and figured I'd see what other fans are around. This is so good so far and I can't wait to find out what the heck is going on. Link: Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality Spoilers for chapter fourteen:

I’m not sure where this is supposed to go, so I’m putting it here: Challenge: Write a fanfic set in Era 2, where Kell drags Marsh to a showing of a play based on TFE so they can make fun of it - and remember old friends. Bonus: Dox and Ham are cast as women. Brandon makes a cameo as the playwrite. Era 2 main cast characters are present. Sazed gets dragged into the fun. Challenge 2: Write a modern age Scadrial fanfic involving Survivorist metal band (think Christian Metal) called the Survivor’s Crew. Bonus: Kell is the secret backer funding the whole thing. The Band members dress like crew members. Have actual music for the band. They don’t only do heavy metal. Write lyrics for the songs.

I have a kind of obsession with Hoid. (As I'm sure many of us cosmere fans do) And I have a lot of crazy theories about him. And some of them morphed into this short story. (Spoilered for Mistborn and Stormlight) (And I apologize for the bolded text. I can't figure out how to unbold it)

I’m almost done listening to Oathbringer (it’s getting crazy intense!) and I started writing some fanfic! Also, I totally didn’t know Graphic Audio was a thing until today. It looks awesome! I’ll have to check it out on my next read(?) through. Curious about which Sanderson series I should start next! -Samuel

Here's a little something I wrote to explore Dalinar's first attempts Summary (Possible Oathbringer Spoilers): (Open this spoiler to see fic):

This is my fanfiction I'm writing. It takes place around 13 years in the future. If you want to read it here is the link. (It's not finished. This is only a part of the first draft.) Anyway here's the link. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XPIiak-o9gJaPPhGaHdTc2AMHSh6_RKE6TEK49weknQ/edit?usp=sharing

A list of all the stories I'm working on that have something to do with the Cosmere fandom and other Brandy Sandy works, and a short summary of each. COSMERE STORIES: Stormlight Archive: Pentagram: An SA AU where Kaladin is bitten by a werewolf around the beginning of the second book. First chapter is currently under construction. Crossovers: Stormlight Archive: Avatar: The Last Airbender: Siblings of Storm, Siblings of Soul: An SA/ATLA crossover where Zuko wakes up in the path of the slave caravan that's carrying Kaladin near the beginning of the first book. First chapter is currently under construction. RECKONERS STORIES: Before and After: A collection of one-shots in the Reckoners series. First one-shot is up on Fanfiction.net and second is currently under construction. Steelson: A Reckoners AU where Steelheart adopts David. Prologue is up on Fanfiction.net and first chapter is under construction. Crossovers: Avatar: The Last Airbender: Deception: A Reckoners/ATLA crossover where the Fire Nation Royal Family (and maybe co.) are Epics. Prologue is up on Fanfiction.net and first chapter is under construction. Aliases and Pen Names: Fanfiction.net: Gray Jedi 4000 AO3: I_Deal_In_Nightmare_Fuel Wattpad: GrayJedi4000 Note: I will take requests for one-shots and flash fictions. Other Note: This will be updated as progress happens.

Hello eveyone. I have been working on the outlines for a Mistborn fanfic for some time now and while I have much of the ideas organized, there is one important plot element that I would love to include but I am unsure if the Mistborn Era 2 tech would be able to provide what I need to make it plausible. So here it goes: the story would be set in the 50th year anniversary for the Catacendre and follow the first Double Steel Twinborn on record, who as it happens, is one of Spook's many granddaughters. Without going into too many details, I need her to be able to use her compounding to walk on water for about 20 seconds. Now, I have done some research and according to the math, that would require her to go run at 30 meters per second/108 Kilometers per hour. I think it could be done since research shows that humans speed cap has been theoretically placed at around 45 km and we are talking about a double steel twinborn compounding to very fast effects. However, I have also read from a WoB that such Twinborns would also have a cap in their speed due to air resistance. Does anyone here have any idea if the speeds I am talking about would be too much due to the air resistance and if so, what wild west level resources/clothing could be used to help her handle that 20-second sprint? Thank you for your time and for bearing with me.

So, I had a lot of fun writing the Ati and Leras piece a little while ago, so I thought I would try another speculative Cosmere History. One of the pieces of Cosmere History I would love to know more about is the Five Scholars, and Shashara in particular. Despite how little we know about her, her story has always really intrigued me, so this is my take on her. Let me know what you guys think :). [I know I might be suspending disbelief a little with what Vasher can see here, and what he’s capable of doing with the spy-glass, but let’s just say it works for now so I do not have to figure out how it actually works. My angle is he has a good vantage point, and he’s doing a combination of looking through the glass and using his naked eye]. [Also, I know that Brandon has said that "Nightblood" is not the original name, and that Vasher only named it that after killing Shashara, but without another name to fill in I used Nightblood as a placeholder.] Here are my two primary reference points: "There's something particularly chilling about watching dead men kill living ones." Shashara stepped back from the spyglass, but her eyes continued to dart back and forth across the battlefield, no doubt calculating the odds of their success. "What's that?" Vasher stepped forward to join his wife, though he took little pleasure in what he saw. As one of the leaders of this army, he felt obligated to make an appearance, but he would have much preferred to be back in their laboratory, puzzling out what exactly had went wrong with that sword. . . Shashara laughed, it was strange to hear such a beautiful sound when men screamed and died below them. The couple stood alone on a high platform, suspended in the air by giant Awakened ropes, giving them an impressive view of the battlefield below. "Have I ever told you that you have the lyricism of a lifeless?" Her hair was a vibrant blonde, but Vasher had trouble discerning whether that was for appearances or a genuine show of emotion. Is she enjoying this? "Oh, a couple of times." It was an old joke, between them. Shashara's perfect lips quirked into a familiar smirk. They had both chosen to reveal themselves as Returned for this battle, rather than concealing their divinity beneath facades of humanity. The colours of Shashara's hair and eyes were dazzling, and her well tailored white uniform shone in the light of her Bio Chroma. Aside from her shoes, which looked rather flimsy compared to standard military boots, she looked the part of a general. Today, Glorysinger was revealing herself in all her splendor. "You were saying?" "It's just strange isn't it? Before Lifeless, war was a contest of the living, and the dead were the defeated. But who can win a a battle against the dead, and what does it mean to defeat your enemies if they will rise again as to join your army? We Awaken them and preserve them, then we command them to kill so we can create more. The dead multiply as humanity diminishes. Not a very good survival strategy for the living, is it?" "No, I do not think it is." "Well, it's a good thing we picked the right side then. Us dead people need to stick together." "That. . . was not a funny joke." "The moment I trust your taste is the moment I know my sense of humour is lost beyond all hope." Shashara stiffened suddenly as the battle seemed to shift below them. Vasher watched as her fingers played with the clasp on the weapon. Her hands seemed to have a darker tone than was normal, their colour deepened by Nightblood's aura. "It's not ready. You know that." "How are we to know anything without testing its potential? It's sentient, isn't it? I can hear its voice even now. It can sense the evil down there Vasher. It knows its purpose." "The blades on Roshar. . ." "Colours, who cares about the blades on Roshar. Nightblood is more than some. . . splinter of divinity bound by foolish ideals. I think even those poor fools who call themselves Heralds would fear what we've accomplished." Her grip on the sword tightened. "Shashara. . ." She finally looked up from the battle to meet his eyes. Her gaze was cold and determined. You are not the person you think you are. You are a brilliant scholar and a fearless leader. You drive me mad while being the love of my life. There are other ways. Don't do this. Shashara sighed and re-slung the weapon across her back. "Oh, fine." She stepped towards him, and they embraced. "I don't know what I'd do without your love and support, dear one." Vasher allowed himself a smile--only because Shashara's face was so buried in his shoulder that she could not see him, of course. "Good thing you will never have to find out." He tightened his grip on her, wanting to hold on to the moment for as long as possible. All too soon he could feel her begin to pull away. Reluctantly, he let his hands fall to his sides. Shashara smiled, letting her fingers linger as she straightened his scarf. "Gag and hold to ground." Vasher's eyes widened as one end of his scarf forced itself between his lips and down his throat, while the other encircled his body and yanked him to the floor of the platform. From his new angle, he could see where Shashara had discarded one of her shoes when she walked over to him, and the patch of grey where she had leeched the colour from the floor. Shashara wasted no time, and was already reaching into her satchel taking out a length of starched cord and one of the little straw men Vasher had made her. "Hold things". The chord shot towards him, further restricting his movement. "Explore and disarm". The straw man sprung to life in her hands and scampered over to Vasher. It began to clamber over him, digging under his clothes and exploring hidden pockets, searching for hidden weapons or coloured objects it could remove. Though the Command was simple, the visualization was complex, and difficult to master. Shashara replaced her shoe, and then cautiously approached Vasher has he desperately tried to escape his bonds. Breathing through his nose, he tried mouthing the words he needed to Break the Command on his scarf, desperately trying to force any air he could to make a sound. She has more breath than you, fool. You couldn't break her Commands even if you could make a sound. With the precision of a master inventor, Shashara methodically began stealing the colour from Vasher's clothing, using it to Awaken her own. The tails of her own scarf rose, preparing to snatch arrows from the air or entangle would-be attackers, and tendrils of rope uncoiled from where they hung at her waste, reaching out like the tentacles of an octopus. As she continued, her pant legs seemed to stiffen and the tassels on her sleeves sprung to life. This can't be happening. She won't do this to you. She can't. "I'm sorry to do this Vasher, but I won't let your softness stifle our vision. Nightblood is the future, and we cannot let its potential be wasted for the sake of sentiment. Just watch. You'll see." Shashara gave a few more careful Commands, causing Vasher's bonds to prop him upright and bring him over to the spyglass. "There you are. Nightblood will make us proud. I promise." Shashara turned and clambered over the edge of the railing, using her scarf, her sleeves, and the ropes at her belt to climb down to the ground. The front lines had moved and been pushed into the shallows of the river below. With the magnificent waterfalls in the background, the sight might have been breathtaking if it weren't accompanied by the sound of the more grisly breath -taking going on, and the increasing redness of the waters down stream. Shashara came into view again, gliding across the land on the back of one of the giant ropes their Awakeners used as catapults. In the brilliant uniform, with her hair, still blonde, flowing behind her, and her brilliant Bio Chroma, she seemed like a hero of out legend riding a serpentine dragon into battle. Hero, or villain? The enemy archers and Awakeners recognized Glorysinger instantly, and began training their arrows and boulders on her, hoping to take out a powerful enemy before she could join the battle. It was fruitless, of course. Shashara was too well prepared and her Commands were the most nuanced in existence. The rope she rode wove deftly down the hill, dodging between the falling stones, while her scarf deftly plucked arrows from the air mid-flight. Before the archers and Awakeners could get off a second round Shashara had joined the fray. She didn't draw Nightblood. As the large rope carried her through the battle, the cords at her waist unfurled lashed out, wrapping around necks and breaking them, or slamming soldiers, both living and Lifeless, into the ground. Others found themselves flying backward, pulled back and held by their own uniforms. Though it was inefficient, the ninth heightening allowed her to Awaken using only the sound of her voice. Vasher knew she kept some coloured scarves in her satchel for exactly that purpose. The tails of her scarf continued to defend her, narrowly deflecting the few attacks that managed to catch her as she slid past. Soon, Shashara had crossed to the other side of the battle. The rope she was on arched, lifting her into the air. Though many of the living soldiers turned to regard her with wonder, the Lifeless continued to fight, ignorant of her glory. With the falls to her back, Shashara looked down on the battlefield like a goddess descending from the heavens to smite her enemies. Arguably, that was exactly what she was. And then she drew Nightblood. She cried out as she held the weapon aloft, slamming nearby Lifeless to the ground with a forceful Command. Nightblood began to leak black smoke, it’s flaw corrupting Shashara’s Breath. An enemy Awakener, seeing an opportunity, sent a boulder flying towards her. The hurtling stone met Nightblood and vanished, dissolving into smoke. Shashara smiled. Her rope turned and dove back into the fray. A trail of black smoke followed in Shashara’s wake as both living and Lifeless were vapourized by Nightblood. Finally, unable to watch anymore but unable to turn away, Vasher closed his eyes. **** Later, when Vasher found her, Shashara was picking through corpses, scavenging for Breath to recover. VaraTreledees, only recently arrived, glanced down at them occasionally as he discussed the battle with some of their officers. “I can’t say I’m surprised you managed to free yourself, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get away with keeping it a secret.” Shashara smiled, but Vasher could hear the strain in her voice. Her Bio Chroma was significantly weaker than before, putting her just shy of the Eighth Heightening. “You don’t get to do that.” “Specificity is a scholar’s friend, Vasher. Vagueries are a waste of time.” Vasher stepped forward, unconsciously increasing his size. “You know what I mean.” His tone was low and menacing, but thankfully he kept the trembling in his hands from creeping into his voice. Shashara met his eyes for a moment and then shrugged, unconcerned with his anger. “Fine then, pout if you need to. When you’re done sulking we can go over the Nightblood’s performance. Now that we have a proto-type we can start discussing a test group. We will need more Breath though, lots of it. It might be a good idea to get a team together to test the weapons so we can save our Breath for Awakening. Conversely, I suppose we could teach others the Command and then handle testing personally, though I do worry about them being able grasp the nuances of the visualization.” Vasher stepped back. “You want to create more?” Sashara frowned. “Of course I want to make more. Did you see what it did, Vasher? I was. . . Nightblood was unstoppable. A few more victories as decisive as that one and the war will be over. A thousand Breaths is really a pittance when you think about it. If we equipped some elites with these weapons, and then backed them with a squad of lifeless, even Yesteel would have to admit our superiority.” Sensing his hesitation, and no doubt anticipating his arguments, Shashara continued before he could get a word in. “And who is to say we need only create weapons? The potential of Type IV Biochormatic Entities could be limitless. I know you disagree, but what if we could create Biochromatic poets, or even scholars? We know Roshar’s Radiants gained valuable counsel from the Spren. Think how our research could be enriched by getting an Awakened perspective.” “No.” “No?” Shashara scoffed. “No.” Shashara's eyes narrowed. “I promised to be your wife, Vasher, not your slave. You don’t control me. Here. . .” Vasher flinched as Shashara reached for Nightblood. Noting his discomfort, Shashara smirked as she unslung the sheath from her back and held the weapon out for Vasher to take. From anyone else, freely offering a weapon like Nightblood would have been a sign of trust. Shashara made it seem like an act of defiance, emphasizing his failure to intimidate her. She was handing him what might be the most deadly object in the Cosmere, confident that even then he would not be able to stop her from achieving her goals. She’s right. She’s always right. He saw that now. No matter what arguments he used, or what pressures he applied, he could not control Shashara. Nalthis itself would be dissolved into nothing before she let anyone get in her way. “Go on, take it. If I can’t talk some sense into you, maybe Nightblood can. It was drowsy after the fight, but it’s seeming to wake up now.” Hesitating, Vasher took the sword. Vasher? Shashara was right. Nightblood’s voice did sound strange. Did you see me? I think. . . I think I. . . um. . . I think I destroyed a lot of evil. Shashara says I did verrrrry well. I think she’s going to make new friends for me. Vasher scowled. “You can’t make friends Nightblood. You’re a sword.” Shashara smiled and turned, searching for more Awakened clothing she could recover breath from. Who sayssss? Shashara’s my friend. And I think you are too. “How do you know what friendship even is?” It’s. . . It’s like you and Shashara. You’re friends. You do friend things. The sword’s voice, which Vasher couldn’t help but see as masculine, seemed to be growing more clear, and less muddled. Nearby, Vasher watched as Shashara recovered some breath from a fallen soldier’s tunic, causing her Bio Chroma to brighten slightly. Giving a woman like Shashara an idealized appearance and Bio Chroma had always seemed painfully unfair. She could dazzle kings and charm the most skeptical of scholars with her mind and wits alone. Adding inhuman beauty and a glowing aura seemed like overkill. See? Frieeeendsssss. Are you two going to do that thing? “I’m going to do something, Nightblood, but probably not what you think.” I mean that thing where you . . . DESTROY EVIL. Shashara--Vasher’s brilliant, fearless, incredible wife--turned in surprise as Vasher drew Nightblood. “Don’t worry, I will.”

"Stop!" he finally bellowed. "Stop it! Stop killing each other!" Everyone heard the voice of Kaladin Stormblessed, the man they all had grown to respect, and dropped their weapons. Beard began telling Sah one of his stories, this one about meeting a listener when he was only three. Kaladin turned, and saw King Elhokar on his knees. In one hand, his son, in another... a piece of paper. Storms, was that a sketch? In the hush that had fallen over the battlefield, everyone could hear his whispered oath, spoken with a determination rarely heard from someone who was supposed to command a nation. "Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination." The first ideal of the Knights Radiant. A burst of light came from the ruler, revitalizing Kaladin and healing all the wounds the soldiers had taken during the scuffle. The illusion faded, and he fell to his knees. Shallan and Adolin were both there to witness his weakness. "Bridgeboy, I don't think this was a good idea." With difficulty, he stood. "I know. Shallan, I won't ask you to do that again. I just... had to know what might have been." //tears

Hey guys! I'm currently working on a Fan comic for The Reckoners. It's an aftermath story for Calamity. It's called Absolution and I hope you guys take a chance to read it,and enjoy it. If you like it, please tell me your thoughts, Plot: Tavi Phaedrus has become very uneasy since the fight with Obliteration. For months, She's not eating much, she's become restless, and becomes extremely jumpy. She remembers clearly on what happened during the battle. She was brought into David's world to fight Limelight, a version of her father, and nearly died because of it. She now worries that he will find a way to finish the fight she was dragged into . Prof also has a hard time living with himself. After all the horrible things he's done, he finds it hard to accept it all. He does everything he can to avoid his powers. He doesn't want to hurt his closest friends more than he already did. In doing so, he slowly grows more distant. After an alliance is made between the two dimensions, the two meet. Again. Can the two Epics learn to work together. Can they do that whilst two Epic plan a way to destroy New Cago?