Rane stood at the edge of eternity. It was lonely, out there, in the desolation of space. The darkness. Silent and beautiful.
He tossed a coin up into the air, catching it. The gambler. That's who he was. A gambler who had gone to space, seeking new worlds. And he would die here, in this wasteland.
"It's an abyss." he whispered, half to himself. "Looks like the God Beyond himself."
Indeed. buzzed a voice in his ear. Rane sighed. That rusting spren. He goes to Roshar for 6 months, and this bloody spren decided him to follow him all over the Cosmere.
"Ruin take you, spren. I don't even know what kind you are." he sighed.
Reacher. You are Willshaper.
"I don't have a rusting clue what that means."
Say the Words.
He laughed. "I'm no Rosharan Knight."
Say the Words. Avenge your brother.
Rane froze. "My brother . . . don't talk about him."
You need to make your own way.
"Brilliant. Why do you think I left rusting Scadrial?"
To follow your brother. Make your own way.
Rane breathed. "Spren . . . look . . . I left Scadrial to be my own man."
By following your brother like a starving axehound? The Reacher vibrated in confusion.
Rane sighed. "I am a Cauthon. I can't abandon him. We toss the dice together."
That's your father's words. Toss the dice together. I remember that.
"How . . . I hadn't met you before that!"
Our souls are . . . tied together. I need you to say the Words.
Rane paused. "I . . ."
For your brother.
Rust and Ruin. "Life . . . Life before Death."
The spren buzzed happily.
"Strength before weakness."
The spren began to glow brighter.
"Journey . . . Journey before Destination."
And the room exploded. Harmony burn him, he was glowing. He was Radiant.