A What if Cosmere Fanfic

[Lunarpup1998]

Soo after reading Rythm of War I experienced my typical post story blues. Why do great stories have to end :'( So to get over this I do what I normally do. I keep thinking about it, I let the story dwell in my brain I start thinking of what might happen i start playing scenes over in my mind. It was during this period i decided to re-read mistborn and remind myself whats going on in the Cosmere. Then I started thinking y'know what i wonder what it would be like if these two worlds started interacting. i started Imagining Wax and Kaladin having conversations. Wayne trying to teach Shallan about accents and non-illusury disguises. How Adolin would react to Scadrian fashion. Or how a fight between an Allomancer and a Radiant might play out.

So i decided hey why not. Now i didn't want to write this like all of a sudden all of my favourite characters are together in one place. I wanted there to be a believable reason as to why shardblades are being waved about in an elendel market. And well that reason got quite dark. and it turned from being a silly what-if thought experiment into a silly Darkest timeline what-if thought experiment.

Basically the synopsis is as follows (I will put it under a spoiler banner just in case I accidentally spoil books 1-4)

Spoiler

It is set after Book 5 which doesn't currently exist, I have taken several liberties with with regards to what has happened on Roshar. First Odium won. Dalinar was defeated at the Contest of Champions. Uritheru was lost, the orders turned on each other many were wiped out. Only a handful survived. Those who did were chased of Roshar, they fled through shadesmar taking shelter on other worlds. Partially to avoid Odiums wrath and partially to gather more allies and warn the people of other worlds. Odium may be trapped in the Rosharan system but his new armies were not.

Kaladin, Shallan and Adolin have been guided to Scadrial by Wit. Unbeknowst to them however they've been followed.

Again this is just a what if, a possible path the story could take.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143434/chapters/71547465

Any and all feedback would be appreciated, I'll put the first part on here the rest I'll put up on AO3.

[Lunarpup1998]

So here is the first part there are five (of course) I've tried to name them in a way to make a Ketek. I have no idea if it works but hey I tried

Spoiler

Approaching Storm

Waxillium Ladrian’s eye twitched, a small quirk he’d first noticed in the roughs. Something was wrong, profoundly wrong. He didn’t know what exactly. He just felt a near constant blanket of anxiety.  It wasn’t due to the fact that he was sitting in one of the cities seediest pubs waiting for a notorious criminal to make an appearance.  Or the fact that the mists were once again absent for the ninth night in a row. No it was something else. He glanced over to his partner Wayne, slumped over the bar in a ratty looking duster and equally well-worn wide-brimmed hat. He fingered at the piece of paper in his coat pocket a warrant authorising him to bring in the criminal known as the brute. A loneshark and a pewterarm, known for leaving people who got in his way, bloodied and broken. He’d put several constables in the hospital already and those who remained were too scared to try their luck. So an officer had approached Wax figuring how better to take down an Allomancer than with another, after all sometimes you just gotta fight metal with metal. he’d agreed of course partially out of boredom partially out of duty but mainly because the officer who had approached him, had practically begged him to. 

The pub was mostly empty due in part to it’s reputation and the fact Wax had bribed most bystanders to go elsewhere. So the only people aside from himself, and Wayne was the barkeep a grizzled half-blind gentleman, never seen without his trusty cigar. 

A cigar he put out as the door opened to admit a large balding man with a face only a mother could love. Wax exhaled as he motioned for the barkeep to disappear, he slunk back into the kitchens with a faint grumble which sounded like a plea to not wreck his bar. Wax knecked back a shot of whisky and steel shavings as the brute approached, topping up his metal reserves.  

“You got my money?” he said in a voice like granite, rough hard and unyielding. Wax smiled and pulled out the piece of paper and slammed it onto the table. The brute grunted “what’s this!”  

“Consequences my friend, they catch up to us all.”  

The brute growled and wax began to flare his mettle. Some more than others.  

 

*** 

  

Kaladin paced, he hated waiting. Wit had been gone for several hours now. Apparently, trying to find them better lodgings. He exhaled as he looked over their current shelter, a simple room with a single window overlooking a small market below. It was a bizzare place this Scadrial, the buildings were too tall and seemed flimsy like a brisk wind would simply knock them over. The ground felt too soft and the trees too fragile. Wit had warned them of a lack of Highstorms. Kaladin thought that he meant they were less frequent, than on Roshar. He’d been wrong of course. Although a part of him still held out hope. Wit had also briefly touched  the fabrials, except they weren’t like the ones he’d seen in Uritheru or even in the Warcamps. They weren’t powered by stormlight and their seemed to be no visible gemstones Or Spren. That had also been a shock, no windspren dancing in the skies or flamespren darting about the coals of a fire. This world felt empty, quiet. But still so busy. He glanced up as a familiar ribbon of light alighted on his shoulder.   

“I like this place.” remarked Syl as she examined one of the strange lamps lighting up their small room. It glowed much like stormlight but not quite, instead of a gemstone the light appeared to be emmiting from a thin piece of metal. Wit explained that much of the city was powered by something called electricity a creation of man, not a tool from the almighty. Kaladin still didn’t trust it.  

“How do you feel?” 

Syl shrugged, “I feel…lonely, Honor isn’t here… but my bond with you…it’s enough.”  Kaladin grunted. He’d been worried about her,  Syl was a tiny piece of divinity, divinity belonging to a dead god, worlds away from where they were now. 

He turned towards his companions, Adolin, and Shallan were currently seated around a small fire. A pot of stew bubbling away. The latter had fallen asleep her head resting on her beloved’s lap.  Kaladin had one more, quick look out of the widow at the strange city beyond, before joining his friends around the fire. Adolin looked up as he approached trying to force a smile. Kaladin saw through it, he’d used that same smile on many an occasion. The Highprince was hurting…no not a highprince anymore, just another refugee.  

They all were, they’d lost, Uritheru belonged to the enemy, as did many of the other orders. Those who refused to submit, were given three options either lie down and die, go into hiding and hope to avoid the fused, or flee and maybe escape. A part of Kaladin wished that he’d stayed behind, that he’d died fighting alongside the others. But his curse of watching everyone else fall while he remained standing proved still intact. He thought down the darkness that threatened to send him plummeting into despair. He couldn’t afford that not now; they were in an alien land with its own threats.  

Adolin was coping even worse than he was, he’d lost his father, brother and home in a matter of days. He felt his heart clench as he thought of Dalinar and the rest of the Windrunners.  Several had escaped into Shadesmar and were being led to Zahels home on Nalthis. Many of them were not so lucky. The Windrunners had been decimated when the contest of champions failed. Only Rock, Dabbid and Sigzil had managed to escape into Shadesmar. Dabbid and Sigzil were with Zahel and Rock was back with the civilians at Harmony’s Perpendicularity. Three out of nearly three-hundred. He clenched his fists trying to fight back the waves of guilt and anger.  

“how is she?” he asked trying to district himself from dwelling on unpleasant memories.  

“About as expected, barely been able to draw her away from that sketchbook of hers.”  

Kaladin shook his head in disbelief but smiled nonetheless, “The scholar in her must be loving this, getting a chance to draw all these new sights.” 

“She’s hiding behind it, like she did with Veil and Radiant…”

Kaladin grew silent he’d expected that, it was what she did. Focus on something else don’t let the pain cripple you. He was doing as well to an extent, Focusing on the people he could still save not on the ones he’d lost. But of course it was hard, everytime he had a moment to think he’d think of them.

“What about you and Syl?” 

Kaladin shrugged “Syl…you know, she’s excited by everything, but she’s hurting too, in her own way.” Adolin nodded, though his mind seemed to be elsewhere as he continued to stare into the flames 

“it’s all gone to damnation hasn’t it...”  

Kaladin didn’t reply. Adolin wasn’t wrong, they’d been tricked, strung along and used as pawns in an endless, pointless war. Chased from their home and their families hounded every step of the way. He didn’t say that though,  Instead he glanced back to the door and frowned, what was taking Wit so long.  

He looked back at Syl who was perched in the window watching the residents of Elendel walk by. He pulled at the band on his wrist. It was a simple leather bracelet embedded with some kind of metallic coin. Apparently, it would allow him to understand the native language, something about the metal storing identity and connection similar to powers of a Bondsmith. Kaladin didn’t really understand, but as long as it worked, he didn’t care. 

“You see him out there?” 

“hmm oh wit, no… but there are soo many people, there are palanquins that run on their own, lights that don’t use fire or Stormlight, this place is strange, I love it. Oh and women don’t cover their safehands. So no gawking. “ he raised his eyebrows at that. That was gonna be hard to get used too. But of course the covering of the safe-hand was a Vorin tradition, the Nations to the west of Roshar didn’t practice it. So why would people of another world.  “wait…I think I see something” he watched as Syl froze, he could practically feel her anxiety, “…oh…oh no.” Kaladin frowned as Syl fuzzed and zipped over to him “He’s here…oh stormfather he’s here.”  

“Wit?” 

She spun around him, “no...Vyre, the traitor, the murderer.” she hissed and he felt the blood in his veins turn to Ice. No not here how could he follow us here. He jumped towards the window hoping that Syl was mistaken. He felt his stomach drop as he saw a figure standing in the square below dressed in a finely cut black military uniform a red scarf tied around his eyes and the blade of the assassin in white in his hand. Moash. He barely had time to warn the others before the door to their hiding spot disintegrated and two more traitors entered the room.   

 

 

[Lunarpup1998]

part 2 is up

[Cheyenne Sedai]

I'd love to see more of this fic. It's really interesting so far.

 

[Lunarpup1998]

Part 3 is up