[OB] Write a scene for the one year gap

[Leyrann]

3 hours ago, TheOneKEA said:

I can’t shake the mental image of Brandon and Peter reading this thread and laughing until they can’t see straight.

That said, the fanfic drabble about Kaladin being named Highprince Sadeas looks exactly like something Brandon would write.

That's like, the biggest compliment I could dream of. Thank you!

[Matt O]

Ok, here is a serious attempt from me.  I hope it doesn't come off totally cheesy

--------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Shallan paced back and forth across the green and yellow checkered floor. Each footfall sounded far too loud in this room. With large wooden beams standing vertically in each corner, unusual for any room in Urithiru, it felt like something more fitting for a remote outpost rather than a preferred audience chamber with the Queen. Twin braziers, both, oddly enough, burning fire, sat at each side of a plain, straight-backed wooden chair. The chair itself was carved to resemble a throne, but contained no spheres or gems, or even any gold. Purple tapestries made of thick cloth hung on each side of the room, covering windows which were currently closed. Of the three times that Shallan had been to this room, her impression of the audience chamber was at its worst now.

She didn't know if she hated the room so much, or if it was what took place within the room that she dreaded. She hadn't heard any of the guards in the room complain about the temperature. Storms, she hadn't seen any of them sweating either, and that was no small feat considering the formal armor that they wore. But if the room was pleasantly warm, then why did Shallan keep feeling beads of sweat running down her forehead. The handkerchief that she used to contain the perspiration was already getting damp and she had only been in here a few minutes. She glanced around at the guards who stared straight ahead.

“Pardon?” she asked one of the guards, a man with bushy drooping mustaches, dark brown eyes, and grey at his temples. He jerked slightly, then glanced at her, as if he wasn't expecting her to address him directly.

“Yes, Brightness?” he asked, recovering quickly and saluting.

“Do you think the Queen would mind if we open a window or two?” She gave him an innocent smile. “It's a bit warm in here.”

“Brightness Radiant,” the guard replied, pausing. He saluted again, and licked his lips. “I... I would love to be of service to your needs. However, I also need..” He stopped talking and stood up straighter. The rest of the guards similarly straightened, saluting smartly. Storms!

Shallan spun as Queen Jasnah Kholin entered the room. As usual she was the image of perfection. A curvacious figure that made Shallan blush slightly, flowing black gorgeous hair, done in intricate curls, held in place by miniature shardblades, she was what any man would consider desirable yet she didn't seem to notice her feminine beauty nor encourage the favor of suitors. Now that she was queen, she seemed even more disinterested in marrying, perhaps even a bit suspicious of it. No, Jasnah's only love seemed to be research. Research and... shaming her ward? Shallan felt a slight bit of guilt at that last thought.

Shallan bowed deeply, her eyes fixed upon the floor as she did so. “Your majesty,” she said, formally.

“We can dispense with the formalities, Shallan,” Jasnah replied, briskly, allowing an attendant to remove her outer robes. She sat down on her plain chair and looked at Shallan with eyes that seemed to know.. far too much. Shallan felt herself squirm slightly.

“I have had a long day, and I'm sure you've been busy as well,” Jasnah continued, her tone even and neutral. Her eyes rested on the stack of papers that Shallan clutched to her chest. Jasnah's eyebrow raised when she took in the crinkled edges. “I trust you have brought the transcriptions from the books in the library that I assigned to you?”

“I have,” Shallan nodded. “I hope that my work will be up to your standards.” She took a step forward and handed the papers to Jasnah. Oh storms, her hands were trembling... visibly! As the queen received the stack, Shallan tried, without success, to smooth the edges of a few of the more errantly crumpled notes. She realized what she was doing and blushed brightly, whipping her hands backward.

Jasnah looked down and began turning through the pages. At first, she went slowly. Then began turning pages faster and faster. She audibly sighed, then looked up, her face a scowl. Shallan felt her heart begin to beat faster.

“Let us be frank,” Jasnah said, again in a neutral voice. “You do not wish to be my ward. The quality of your work attests to this. As queen, I no longer have the time that I once did for this type of relationship between us.”

“Brightness... I... I mean, your majesty,” Shallan sputtered. “I do wish to be your ward, and do wish to do better. My mind has been.. distracted as of late.” She found herself staring at the floor again. Fool, she thought. Making excuses to Jasnah Kholin?

The queen studied her for a moment without speaking. Then she said, “I am giving you what you asked of me. I am releasing you. There is no point in making this difficult.”

“I am very grateful, your majesty,” Shallan began. “I am just not sure that I want to be released.”

“Not sure,” Jasnah said. It was more of a statement, than a question. “Have you ever been sure what it is that you want?”

Shallen felt her shoulders begin to shake slightly. Oh, storms, no. Not now.

Jasnah sat up straighter in her chair and leaned closer to Shallan. “Those tears are evidence to me that I've made the correct choice. You have been overwhelmed. And people who are overwhelmed do not do their best work. In fact,” she glanced down at the papers again, “sometimes they do far less than their best.”

Shallen wiped her face, her cheeks flaming. Storms! She rarely cried in public. And now crying in front of the last person on Roshar that she wanted to be vulnerable to? Bury it deep inside and get ahold of yourself!

“Your majesty,” she sniffed. “I simply ask for one more chance.”

“But this isn't what you want, child!” Jasnah huffed, leaning back in the chair, spreading her hands out to each side. “I don't understand you, Shallan!”

“What do you mean?” Of course you don't. I don't even understand myself.

“You are married to a High Prince, you are a Knight Radiant, you clearly have gifts and skills that can and should be employed to help the kingdom, yet you keep begging to remain my ward, all the while proving through your actions that you don't have the heart for it.” Jasnah's eyes seemed to.. burn. Was that anger? Or just frustration.

“One more chance,” Shallan repeated, voice calm and collected. This is what I want. This is who I am.

Jasnah closed her eyes. Her lips moved but no sound came out, as if she was talking to herself. She rested her head in one hand. “This is getting absurd,” she muttered. “Inefficient. Silly, even. Ridiculous.” She opened her eyes, and her posture seemed to calm. “Very well, Shallan.” Her voice sounded resigned. She handed the stack of papers back. “Get me the research I asked for, do it right this time, and omit the unrelated sketches, and I may consider still allowing you to be my ward. As if a ward for a queen even made sense. Part of you seems determined. You may prove to me just how determined.”

“You won't regret this, your majesty,” Shallan promised. She bowed again, then tried to walk slowly out of the room. She felt like she was running.

 

* * * * *

 

Veil sauntered along the wide street of one of the many markets in Urithiru. Pattern clung to her trousers, blending in, but yet not at the same time. He hummed, vibrating. “Shallan,” he buzzed. “Why did you tell the queen that you wanted to be her ward?”

“Because I do,” Veil replied, her eyes looking at each random person that she passed.

“But.. but... Shallan, this confuses me,” Pattern oscillated. “You ignore her assignments. You come to the market every night. You visit the housing sections. You imitate other people. This does not seem to be to be someone who wishes to be a ward?”

“Shallan wants to be a ward,” Veil amended. “Veil has other goals.” Please don't ask me to explain that.

“Mmmmm I do not mean to object,” Pattern hummed. “I like the lies. I look forward to tonight's new lie.”

“Shallan will do her duty,” Veil insisted. “Just like I will do mine.” Pattern didn't immediately reply which gave Veil a chance to think about what he had said. She slowed her pace slightly. “What do you mean tonight's new lie?”

“Shallan,” Pattern buzzed. “You have imitated a different person each night for the last week. Am I not to assume that tonight will be any different? Humans have patterns, I have noticed. This is your pattern.”

Storms, thought Shallan. Had she gotten that bad? Surely it had only been once or twice. She didn't reply to Pattern and he didn't say anything else as she continued walking.

The markets were bustling activity. Taverns, firemoss dens, brothels, blacksmith shops, and places to dine were common and plentiful. The spurt in crime that had occurred during the presence of the Unmade, and the subsequent invasion of Voidbringers into Urithiru had largely subsided with Jasnah in command. While the queen didn't overtly micromanage Aladar or the other High Princes, there was a definite order and structure that existed in this place that Elhokar was never able to bring. Her touch was on many aspects of Urithiru now, and it showed.

Urithiru had grown to become more than just a military encampment. It now held houses and families. The housing section was located near the military section, but separate. It would not be prudent to have prostitution and male soldiers milling around housewives and children. Even Veil could see that, and she had grown up in the streets where that sort of thing was more common than in the more affluent areas. Yes, Veil definitely approved of the changes that had occurred since Jasnah's coronation. Crime was down, hunger was down, poverty was down. Veil hoped that the harsh street life that she had struggled with as a child would be something that none of the families living here would ever have to know. She felt a slight pang of regret as she thought about Kholinar and what the people living there must be experiencing now. She wondered if any of them had been able to escape? Would they be able to find their way to Urithiru?

She slowed as she had reached the housing section. Sturdy, single family dwellings, made of wood, lined the streets here. None were too large, nor were any too small. They did tend to look the same, with little variety. That was one of the costs of limited space and a growing demand.

Veil sat down on a cement block across from a row of ordinary looking houses. She took out a pad of paper and a writing instrument, and a small chip for light. Veil couldn't afford massive spheres like Radiant or Shallan could, so she would have to make do with a dimmer sketching environment.

“Mmmmm,” Pattern hummed from her clothing. “Which house will it be tonight?”

“That depends on who comes out,” Veil answered. She reached into her pack and pulled out a bottle of spirits. Not the horneater white. She had tried that a time or two again and decided that drinking liquid crem would be more enjoyable. This bottle was a mild yellow. Perfect for relaxing, but not intense enough to get drunk. She had some stormlight just in case.

“Will it be another daughter?” Pattern wondered. “Or perhaps a son this time.”

“I haven't decided yet,” Veil murmured, absently. She took a pull from the bottle, but quickly put the lid back on as a women exited one of the houses. Veil began to sketch. The woman was young, perhaps late teens. She had on a non-descript green havah, and long, straight dark Alethi hair. Her eyes were a pale yellow. Veil took a memory and began filling in the details.

“Mmmmm,” Pattern buzzed. “Another daughter. It has been a daughter every night. Never a son. I am sensing a pattern here. Mmmm.. yes.. a pattern.”

“It could be a son some time,” Veil whispered. Of course, it couldn't. Shouldn't she just tell Pattern the truth? Keeping secrets from him seemed silly at this point. He probably had figured it out anyway. Did it matter to him? Did he care what she did as long as she was … as long as she was lying to people?

The young woman walked off down the street, toward the markets. Judging by the basket in her hands, and the faint glimmer of spheres, Veil judged that she would be gone at least 15 minutes. Veil took another pull from the bottle, a rather long one. Considering what she was about to do, she could afford to get a little tipsy. She stretched, then shoved the bottle away into her pack.

Veil stood up and breathed in stormlight. The alcoholic effect, as brief as it had been, vanished instantly. Her skin almost glowed, but Veil restricted the flow through force of will. She then looked at her sketch and breathed out. The air shimmered in front of her. Veil became the young woman that she had sketched. Her hair became longer, darker. Her clothing was replaced by the green havah. It wasn't real, but you'd never know without touching it.

She adopted the stroll she had seen the young woman make and sauntered toward the house that the woman had come out of. She almost knocked. Storms, you idiot, you live here. You don't knock. She opened the door and stepped in, trying to project confidence.

A man and woman were sitting at a long wooden table that had some remnants of dinner scattered on it. They looked up in surprise when she entered.

“Haia?” the man asked, eyes confused. The top of his head was bald, with grey and white curled hair encircling his head. He was stoutly built with a bit of an expanding gut and large, strong arms, slightly flabby with age. He wore a grey outfit that looked to be some kind of military uniform. “Did you forget something?”

“Yes, Father,” Veil replied. Please let him be my father, not an uncle or random visitor. The man nodded, and shrugged. Veil relaxed and let out an inaudible sigh. Her back muscles loosened, slightly.

“What did you forget, dear?” the woman asked. Her hair was similarly dark as the daughter's but had streaks of grey at the sides. It was pulled into a bun and she wore a plain dress, of a lower station for a light-eyes.

“I had to tell you something, Mother,” Haia answered. “You and Father both.” She tensed up again, slightly. If the woman was not the daughter's mother, this would be very awkward.

The women and the man both gave Haia their attention, looking calm and unphased. This was a good sign.

“I...” Haia hesitated. “Do you remember a while ago when we had a quarrel?”

The man squinted and looked at the ceiling, rubbing his fingers on his chin. The mother paused for several moments, then looked away, her hands tightening around her dress slightly.

“I've hurt you,” Haia continued. “Hurt you both.” I hope? What a strange thing to wish for.

The man looked confused. “Are you talking about the … no... that was just a little thing.” He looked to his wife, he seemed to have gone a little pale. Or am I just seeing what I hope to see? She finally met Haia's eyes.

“Haia,” she sighed. “I don't like playing these games. Yesterday, you were shouting at me. Said you wanted to leave. And now, tears? It's too much, dear.”

Haia wiped her eyes. This was becoming an awkward habit. But part of it felt so.. so right. “I was wrong, mother,” she sniffed. “You were right. I can see that now.”

“And what about the rest of it?” her mother asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Storms, she was skeptical.

Haia took a gamble. “You were right about me. About who I am.”

The father and mother cocked their heads, eyes showing confusion.

“I mean, about me playing games. I do that sometimes,” Haia continued. “I'm so sorry. So, very very sorry.”

The mother looked at the floor, frowning. The father's chair scraped as he stood up from the table. “Haia, dear,” he smiled, coming toward her. Was that a slight tremble in his voice? She didn't know him. Didn't know if it always sounded like that. “What is bothering you?” He casually opened his arms and she fell into them. She felt him jump. Don't seem too eager.

She forced herself to pull back slightly. “I've just been thinking,” she said, her voice quavering much more than she wanted. Stormfather, she was losing control already. “What right do I have to be ungrateful? When you've both given me so much?” This wasn't going so well. She didn't know enough about the real Haia to sell the lie. But then again, what child was not ungrateful to her parents? What parent wouldn't enjoy hearing the apologetic words of a repentant child?

“I...” He didn't seem to know what to say. Haia caught him sharing a look with his wife. She looked... bewildered. He patted her back, hesitantly. “There, there,” he whispered.

She didn't know what kind of relationship she had with her parents. Her family seemed at least willing to hold her. Had he done this before? Many times? Almost never? She didn't know, couldn't know. But she needed him to love her. Needed him to cherish her. She wanted to be strong, but a part of her wanted to be vulnerable. So vulnerable. Storm it, she thought. This man adores me. Taking a deep breath, and with that thought firmly planted in her head, she surrendered. She buried her head into his shoulder, a stranger whom she did not know... and she wept like a child.

 

* * * * *

 

Veil walked down the street, slowly, wiping her eyes. Pattern hummed at her side. “That was a very nice lie,” he purred.

Veil didn't speak, continuing to walk, eyes forward. What am I doing?

“Humans,” Pattern buzzed, “are sometimes hard for me to understand.”

Don't think about it. Shove it away. Keep it locked up tight.

“You had never met those people before,” Pattern continued. “Yet, you seemed to care for them a great deal.”

Veil kept walking. What could she say? Did she even understand herself what she was doing? She passed house after house, all looking the same. She was nearing the market again, and the bustle of military life reached her ears. There were a few people walking the opposite direction as her but she didn't stop until she found the one she wanted, a woman whom she had never met but whose name she knew.

“Haia,” Veil said to the startled woman.

“Yes,” Haia replied, jumping slightly and putting one hand to her chest. Her alarmed face changed to one of confusion. “Do I.. do I know you?”

“No,” Veil answered, nonchalantly. “But do me a favor. Be nice to your parents tonight.”

“My.. parents?” Haia's eyes widened slightly and her head tilted to the side. “You know them?”

“In a way. Please... I.... this may sound like an odd request. Treat them as if you've apologized.”

“What?” Haia laughed.

“Please,” Veil pled. She took out some glowing spheres.

The other woman backed away, scowling. “I... I don't understand what is happening.”

Without a further word, she side-stepped Veil and continued walking along the path. Veil continued to face her, with one hand outstretched, holding glowing spheres. Storms! Veil took one step toward Haia, then stopped, hands clenching and unclenching.

“Mmmmm...” Pattern hummed. “She did not want the lie.”

Veil noticed a pile of refuse lying along the side of the road. With one sturdy boot, she kicked into the center of it, where crem and other offal went flying spectacularly. “What am I doing?” she growled. Keep it in. Don't feel it.

“Mmmm,” Pattern oscillated. “I do not know.”

Veil stalked into an alleyway. A quick glance told her she was alone. She slumped against one of the brick walls, then slowly slid down into a sitting position. Her buried her head into her hands and her shoulders began to shake. Gently at first, then fiercely as her body was wracked with sobs. Tears ran down her cheeks and splashed onto the dirty alley floor.

“Shallan?” Pattern vibrated. “You.. do not like the lie?”

“I hate myself!” she screamed, raising her tear-streaked face to the sky. “I hate what I did, hate who I am, hate who I am becoming!” She stood up, with fists clenched. “HATE!” she yelled again.

Pattern was silent for a moment. Then he buzzed again. “Jasnah can help, Shallan.”

No, she thought. Not her. The shame I feel simply being in her presence. The guilt. She will never trust me again.

“Shallan,” Pattern hummed again. “Jasnah understands you.”

“Of course she doesn't,” Veil sobbed. “She only understands how to balance a budget or manage a spanreed.” She winced at her own callous words.

“Jasnah lies too, Shallan,” Pattern purred.

Veil frowned, and looked at the ground, blinking back tears. “Lies? About what? That she never feels tired?”

“She hides deep secrets, Shallan. Very very good lies. Mmmmm yes.. very good.”

“Of course she doesn't. She's Jasnah Kholin.”

Pattern vibrated, obviously pleased. “You do not know of this? I had thought you did. She will tell you if you ask her.”

Veil wiped one sleeve across her nose and sniffed. “Are you saying I should just come up to her and ask her what she is hiding?”

“It will work,” Pattern buzzed. “Mmmm yes. She will not be able to hide it from you if you ask her.”

Perfect. Storms, this was yet another problem in a long line of problems for Veil to deal with. She didn't want to know anything more about Jasnah. She wanted to be as far away from Jasnah as possible. But... Shallan... Shallan might be willing to do what Pattern wanted. Shallan might be willing to ask Jasnah. After all, Shallan wanted to be a ward. Didn't she?

“We will ask Shallan to do this for us,” Veil informed Pattern. “She might. I won't, storms, no. But she might. Can you convince her? Can we convince her?”

“Mmmm, yes,” Pattern hummed. “The lies. I like these lies. I will convince. Mmmm, yes.”

“Very well,” Veil nodded, walking out of the alleyway. No one seemed to have noticed her outburst. “Let's return and find Shallan.”

 

[aemetha he/him]

This one is for @RShara

Shallan plodded through the alien landscape of Shadesmar. It was difficult for her to judge exactly how long she'd been in Shadesmar, it felt like a day, but who could even say if time flowed the same in this place. Jasnah had explained that Shadesmar was a realm of the collective thoughts of sapient beings made manifest. Did that mean if enough people thought time worked differently it changed in this place? Shallan was supposed to learn the secrets of this place, it was an essential aspect of her surge of transformation. Perhaps it was the blood from one of her earliest uses of it, but the very thought of taming shadesmar filled her with dread. Storms, what were the implications of that? I think it's bad, and its thought made manifest, did I just make this place more dangerous to myself? thought Shallan.

Shallan was relieved when a small campfire became visible in the distance. The sooner this expedition was over, the better. She was supposed to be a newlywed for storms sake, and this was a far cry from the comfort of her husbands bed. As she drew closer to the campfire she was able to make out an assemblage of people in animated conversation around it. It was a very odd collection of individuals. Shallan had met people from all corners of Roshar since becoming a Radiant and taking up residence with the powerful of her world, but the clothing these people wore was quite bizarre in many cases, and of a style she had not seen before.

A tall blonde woman in an elegant dress of an unknown cut stepped forward confidently as Shallan approached the assemblage. "Shallan Davar I presume? Welcome, you're the last to arrive. We'll be able to get started after the introductions. I must say, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, I've heard a lot about you." began the woman. "My name is Sarene. Princess Sarene actually, but then you're a Princess too now aren't you as are many of us, and I think we should dispense with the honorifics if we actually mean to get anything done here today. My colleague here is called Shai," she said, indicating a smaller, dark haired woman dressed in trousers and a loose shirt wearing spectacles. "or at least she is when she isn't pretending to be someone else. We're from Sel." continued Sarene.

Shallan cast her eye over the rest of the group. Certainly a very odd group of people. Wait. Shallan recognised one of the members of the group, perhaps she hadn't noticed right away because she was feeling really quite overwhelmed. "We've met" said Shalash. "Don't even think about reaching for that sketching pad!" she continued in a no nonsense tone. Shallan immediately put any thought of doing so from her mind, there was no way she intended to confront the herald of her order of Knights Radiant. A second woman in the group drew her attention as well. There was a familiarity about her that Shallan had trouble placing. Like the others, this woman was elegantly dressed in a distinctly alien way, and as Shallan observed her she was shocked to see her hair change colour!

"Welcome Shallan, my name is Siri." the woman said as she approached and embraced Shallan as though they weren't meeting for the first time. "I believe you know my sister? Tell me, is she still as full of herself as she used to be? You'll be able to tell, if she still behaves as if she has a second sword firmly lodged up her backside then she hasn't changed.". Shallan found herself smiling, this was a woman after her own heart, and her description of lady Azure wasn't far from Shallan's recollection. "This here is Shashara." she said indicating the woman standing next to her. Shashara was impossibly tall and beautiful, and her face was painted with a scowl that was almost physically painful. "Don't mind her. She's my sisters boyfriends wife who he killed. Yeah, it's confusing. Some kind of cosmeric shadowy ghosty thing. I'm not the best person to ask about that."

Another woman approached Shallan and reached out to embrace her as she had seen Siri do, before seeming to change her mind mid embrace and instead try to shake Shallan's hand. The indecision didn't go well, the outcome had been that the woman had walked up to Shallan and grabbed her by the breast! The woman was clearly mortified at what she had done, and began fishing around in her handbag and pulled out a small notebook. "Oh dear." she said "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. This wasn't on the list. How did that happen? What do I do? Apologise. I must apologise!" The woman looked up at Shallan, smoothed out her odd stiff backed and high necked dress and composed herself. "I apologise your highness. I'm not very good with people I'm afraid. My husband usually helps with these types of matters, but they said this was something my attributes were required for and he would just get in the way. My name is Steris, and I'm from Scadrial."

An imposing woman stepped forward next, standing next to a small man with a meek expression. Odd thought Shallan. He seems to be the only man that was invited here. "Now that the introductions have been taken care of, I think it's time to move on to the business at hand. I am the Supreme Supervisor of the Silverlight Sodality for the Sensible and Sustainable Subsistence of S, and my friend here has approached us with a request." the woman said. "Go ahead Tom."

"Ladieth" began Tom. "We need to dithcuth the exthethive uthe in the cothmere of the letter eth."

Edited December 18, 2017 by aemetha

[kenod]

1 hour ago, aemetha said:

An imposing woman stepped forward next, standing next to a small man with a meek expression. Odd thought Shallan. He seems to be the only man that was invited here. "Now that the introductions have been taken care of, I think it's time to move on to the business at hand. I am the Supreme Supervisor of the Silverlight Sodality for the Sensible and Sustainable Subsistence of S, and my friend here has approached us with a request." the woman said. "Go ahead Tom."

"Ladiesth" began Tom. "We need to dithcusth the exthethive uthe in the cothmere of the letter sth."

Neat, but is Tom from an actual story?

[aemetha he/him]

1 minute ago, Ookla the Foxed said:

Neat, but is Tom from an actual story?

No, not at all. The last two characters introduced are entirely made up for the purpose of this story.

[kenod]

8 minutes ago, aemetha said:

No, not at all. The last two characters introduced are entirely made up for the purpose of this story.

Alright, thanks.

[RShara she/her]

I also need a rolling on the floor laughing emote, but there isn't one

[.S.A.M.K.M]

I want to see Rock as the king of the stone eater peaks, leading his people into battle screaming, "can you smell what the Rock is cooking?" He might be an awesome replacement for the current king of Jah keved.

[Krios]

Just discovered this thread and wrote my own scene. Firstly I know that this is not a possible scene, but I just love the idea behind it and Kelsier is my favorite character. So I just had to include him and I played a bit with this fate.

Spoiler

Dalinar chapter:

 

The others had finally left the meeting room and only Adolin had remained behind in a chair by the large glass doors, which kept the mists from the balcony outside. Slowly he sank into an armchair next to his son and sighed:

“If only we had made some progress by now, but inspite of the Azishs codex we are just spinning in circles. All the while Odiums forces reform and we are wasting our chance for real advancement in this war. Do they still not understand what is at stake? ”

“You are slipping into the Blackthorn again, father. Now we need the Bondsmith, who can unit instead of divide.”

Outside the mists, a truly rare site in Urithuri, swirled and the slow breeze produced flapping sounds of the new banners with the insignia of the reformed Knights Radiants hung outside.

“Easier said than done. I almost fear, that a our victory in Thaylen City was too easy. The common soldier already start too see us more as gods than men.”

Twice again the banners flapp in the wind, but Dalinar thought he heard something else out there in the grey.

“But father I am not sure if you still classify as mere men,” Adolin interjected and something small broke through the window outside and dropped to the floor. A small circular piece of metal engraved with the portrait of someone.

The instincts of the soldier took over and they leaped to there feet. He sucked in stormlight and Adolin reached to the side summoning his shardblade. Quickly they moved back into the room to get more space for the following fight. He just wanted to shout for the guards, but what crashed through the window left him unable to speak.

It was a strange looking man with a mad grin on his face. Strange was the mans grey cloak made of dozens of tassels only sown together at the very top. Stranger yet were the scars swirling around his arms partially covered by bands of metal. But the strangest thing was the coiled spike, made from different metals just like the bands, stuck in the mans right eye. In his hand he carried a spike fitted around the head with another piece of metal.

“What do you want?”, Adolin demanded to know, but the attacker just raised the spike pointing it towards his son still more than a dozen feet apart. Then the spike shot forward from his hand directly through his sons skull, dropping Adolin and his shardblade to the floor. It did not vanish, his son was dead.

Before he could react the spike flew back towards the man, but instead of catching it he let it pierce his own chest. Finally he crumbled to his knees next to his firstborns corpse, glaring at the stranger demanding only on thing: “Why?”

And he spoke with a familiar voice: “If you take on of mine, I shall take on of yours, my friend.” It was Odiums voice. “Choose your champions wisely, Dalinar. For I have chosen mine.” With these words the stranger, Odium, raised his hand once more and Mayalaran, the last that remained of his son, flew into his hand and dissolved into treacherous mist. The assassin turned into a blur and speed out on the balcony, stopped, smiled once more and then shot up into the air like an arrow. Blinded by tears he stumbled after him outside. There he found his guards dead and scrawled in their blood stood the words: “Give me your pain.”

I like Kelsier becoming essentially everything he hated and if Ruin and Harmony can control someone spiked amybe Odium can too.

 

Edited December 19, 2017 by Krios

[Heir of the Void he/him]

Where ever I go, I must also shitpost.

Serious scene is going to take a bit longer.

_| |_

Szeth? Nightblood sent.

Szeth looked up instinctively as his Shardblade thought to him  "What is it, Sword-nimi?" 

You remember the Highmarshal the Scowly Windrunner mentioned right?

"Yes?" Szeth frowned. His memory had never degraded; what sort of test might this be?

And you remeber the Shardblade she had, right? The one she couldn't summon?

"I do."

Well, uh, do you think you could find her spanreed code for me? I hear those information centers Tashikk can connect also everwhere, and I was hoping that maybe I could, um,

"What is your interest in this weapon, Sword-nimi? 

I was wondering if she's Destroyed any interesting Evil. I mean, purely from an academic standpoint, of course. It's just that I...

Szeth looked down towards Thaylen City. He was currently hanging weightless thousands of feet in the air; not the best time for his Shardblade to start acting even stranger than usual.

"Is now really the best time for this, Sword-nimi?"

I guess not. We don't want to be late for our meeting with Nale, either.

"But Nale is right here." The Herald of the Skybreakers said.

"Nin-son-God. I apologize."

"There is no need to apologize." Nale said, looking exactly as emotionless as ever. "So, you have chosen to serve Dalinar Kholin?"

"Yes. But I do not understand." Szeth looked at the Herald who had restored his life. "You have chosen to serve the Voidbringers?"

Nale seemed unperturbed. "They are the true masters of this realm, by ancient law. It is what I must do. And you have chosen to serve the Splinters of Honor." He shook his head. "You could never control yourself. What makes you think you could control them?"

"You think you're in control?" Szeth shot back, increasingly perturbed.

"You think you could do better? You be head of the Skybreakers, then." 

"Why do you judge me?" 

Nale's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of anger appearing on his face. "You killed innocent people!"

Szeth's memories flashed back, unbidden, to his years spent as Truthless. So many deaths. But that was the past, and could not be changed. "The means to an end!"

“You started a Desolation!”

The faces the newly risen Radiants flashed through Szeth’s mind. He felt, for the first time in more than a decade, perfectly, truly confidant. “I caused a Revolution!”

Nale breathed deeply. Such glorious feeling! Anger flowed through him for the first time in forty-one centuries, sparking through synapses older than any kingdom on the planet.

“YOU BETRAYED THE LAW!” He declared.

Szeth felt no hesitation. “I AM THE LAAAAW!”

These words are accepted.

Nale began backing away as the once-Truthless began glowing with smokestone-colored light. Thankfully, Szeth’s advancement had disrupted his lashings and sent him falling toward the ocean. Nale lashed himself to the northwest. Szeth would recover long before impact; it would be best if he was long gone-

One second, and he stopped, the blood draining from his face. "You? No!" The word still hung in the air when death took him.

[Song she/her]

This is for all you Jaspen shippers out there!!!

Jasnah pressed her fingers into her temples and stared at the pages before her. Mystica sat along with the translated words from the Crystals. Patterns were beginning to emerge about the unmade. Perhaps she would get Renarin's help with this stage. His ability to understand such things was strange, but helpful. And she was feeling lost.

The curtains at her window began to sway.

Jasnah summoned ivory in one hand and picked up a throwing knife in the other. 

The curtains opened to revel one of the Bridgemen.

Jasnah groaned and took a guess "Teft?"

The man shook his head. "No, he is the ugly one.  I am Lopen,"

Jasnah did not drop either weapon. "Why are you here uninvited? I have a door."

"More romantic this way." He stepped off the windowsill and onto Jasnah's rug.

Jasnah pointed ivory at Lopen with a glare.

Lopen grinned. "Allow me to explain. As a Radiant I have my pick of women. But who should I choose? You were an obvious candidate. Smart, and Radiant in both senses (wink). Plus a queen, appropriate as soon all Herdazia will say "Lopen, you can slick to walls and fly. You should be King."

Jasnah sighed. She was used to such advances. Though normally not quiet so confident in their delivery.

"Not interested. Get out."

Lopen shook his head. "I did hear rumours that you had little interest in Men. But I am no man. I am a God."

He flipped up to stand on the roof. It would have looked rather impressive if he landed the flip. Instead he crashed to his knees. All the spheres in his pockets escaped and rained down onto Jasnah's floor.

Jasnah dismissed her ivory-blade and sighed. 

"You are not a God. You are simply a man chosen by an honour spren in a time of need. A rather silly honour spren I suspect. "

 A small blue figure appared before Jasnah for only a second. Did he really just...

"Naco! Not at my future wife!" Lopen returned to the floor, less awkwardly this time and began to pick up his spheres.

Jasnah stared at the ridiculous little man. And she began to laugh. 

It was loud and awkward and contained a few embarrassing snorts. Her eyes filled with tears. She never laughed, not like that, laughing till her stomach hurt. Oh but by Ash's eyes it felt good to do it. 

Lopen raised an eye-brow. "Um, maybe we could start with a causal betrothal. See how it goes."

Jasnah grinned. "This was a pleasant diversion. I will let you go. But if you come uninvited again I will soulcaste you into the most fragile crystal I can and throw you off the top of this tower. Understand?.

"Of course my dear. I will await your invitation."

And he opened and walked through the door past two very confused members of the Cobalt guard.

[Leyrann]

On 20-12-2017 at 10:40 PM, Heir of the Void said:

One second, and he stopped, the blood draining from his face. "You? No!" The word still hung in the air when death took him.

Okay. You win today's internet.

[.S.A.M.K.M]

I can't wait until shallan shares what she knows of the sons of honor with the Kholins. The idea that the king was purposely trying to bring back the void bringers would be deeply upsetting.

[Bort he/him]

On 15/12/2017 at 9:15 PM, Matt O said:

I think you've hit upon something that the books seem to be foreshadowing: that capturing spren to make fabrials work isn't a Good Thing.

For a while I thought this was part of the Great Betrayal that led the Radiants to forsake their oaths. As I learned more though, I decided against this theory - they must have been aware that doing so would kill their spren.

I do agree though. Imprisoning spren in fabrials I don't think will turn out well. Apart from the whole teaching the Parshendi how to trap spren thing.

[.S.A.M.K.M]

I think the unmade will not only be trapped in gem stones but in a fabrial. The classic turning the enemy power against them. The power of all nine used against a specific target at the same time would be an epic strike, sure to have permanent effect.