Last Inktober, I wrote two Discord message-sized short stories for the first two days. I plan to write short stories this Inktober, and today I'm starting with longer and more canon-accurate revisions of my original stories. That means I hope to post three stories today, starting with this one.
Expect spoilers for all books in this thread
All feedback is welcome
Cosmere Inktober 2024: Day One - White
When Deshka heard a rumor of who had been imprisoned in Urithiru, she dropped everything to break in. She dispatched with the Kholin guards, not caring how many bones she broke. She had trained nearly two years for this and was not going to let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this pass her by when it presented itself. Sure enough, the rumored prisoner was present. Even in prison he wore his color. The Assassin in White. She slammed him against the prison’s stone wall.
When she saw his face, everything flooded back. Two years ago, Deshka’s one and only reason for being, the one redeeming aspect of a world that deserved this Desolation, her dearest love, a king's guard, had ceased to be. His life had been forever sealed away like a spren in a gemstone and the man sitting before Deshka was to blame. She punched his chin. his ribs. his nose.
Deshka had not been allowed to see her love’s body, but the descriptions had been enough. Every single night since, she relived her gemheart falling from great height onto his own spear. Every single day since, she thought of what she would do if she met her husband's killer. How she would kill him, but slow enough that he would suffer. How she would share with him the most minuscule fraction of the pain she has felt. How she would feel the first joy in years as he feels his last. Her hands seized his throat.
Until now, these idle fantasies had been ideas formed in abstract, not concrete reality. She never thought she would have a chance to meet such a mythic figure. She had known that a man who had effortlessly killed so many people would kill her long before she could capture him. Yet despite this — despite knowing that these fantasies were not productive, they lingered. Even when days eventually went by without contemplation, the desire never subsided. Deshka let go of his throat and began lightly carving into his skin with a knife.
Deshka had been brought here, to Urithiru, after an Ashspren had sought a bond with her. Newly a Dustbringer, she’d been presented with newfound purpose. This ancient city, as home to the Knights Radiant, became her home too. Her first true home since that terrible night. But it was here that she rediscovered her fantasies. Here that she met the man she’d been trying so hard to forget. The blade pressed down firmer, drawing blood.
And yet, even as Deshka began to enact her darkest desires, something felt wrong. Even through the pain, he didn’t so much as wince. He didn’t fight back, despite being able. This man who stole her life from her seemed to accept his fate. He didn't seem to care that Deshka wanted him to suffer a fate worse than death. In fact, he almost seemed comforted. To her demands, he simply apologized. Deshka paused her revenge.
This was the man for whom Deshka had invented torture methods never before seen? This man before her, who was more pathetic than scary? Had he already experienced worse than Deshka could ever inflict upon him? Despite the blinding hatred she felt, she couldn't deny that, in his words, there was sincerity and regret. And she realised something else, too. On the path to this man, she carelessly injured several guards. They didn’t deserve it, and perhaps the assassin didn’t either. “I must show restraint,” Deshka whispered, “to prevent unnecessary harm to others.”
Tʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡoʀᴅs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ.
Deshka was flooded with power. Power she could use to destroy the man before her — but instead she displayed the restraint not to. Deshka would never forgive the Assassin in White for what he’d done, but she understood that torturing this man was pointless. So let the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass her by.