So let’s see, what have we covered so far? Where to start with Brandon Sanderson’s many fantastic books, what kind of magic systems exist in each book and how they work… hmmmm… Ah, yes! The Cosmere!
I’ve been dropping hints about this topic along the way, but I didn’t want to delve too deeply, as I really thought it needed its own post. The Cosmere of Brandon Sanderson is a huge, overarching concept driving the narrative structure of his work, and while it may seem fairly straightforward on the surface, the deeper ramifications of these connections are going to be felt all across his books, especially going forward with the rest of his series.
So! Let’s get started. First question: What the heck is a Cosmere?
The origin of the Cosmere goes something like this: a long, long time ago, there was a singular entity that went by the name/title of Adonalsium. From what little we know, it was a celebrated force of life and creation. But something happened and Adonalsium was shattered into sixteen shards, each of them containing a single aspect of Adonalsium’s cosmological DNA and power, with both positive and negative aspects contained within.
Present at the Shattering of Adonalsium were sixteen individuals, who found the Shards left from the catastrophe and took them up, gaining immense power, and essentially ascending to godhood. With this newfound power, the Shardholders went off to do whatever it is that gods do.
With a consciousness to direct them, many of the Shards began to Invest their magic and influence in certain planets or peoples. Every Shard impacts a planet in a way that allows certain individuals to tap into its own distinct magical power. Sometimes that magic is Invested in the environment, as is the case with the Tears of Edgli in Warbreaker or the highstorms that come roaring through Roshar in The Stormlight Archive series; other times, the power is actually present within the individual, and they simply need fuel to activate it (i.e. burning metal in Mistborn).
The Cosmere is Sanderson’s fictional universe, far larger than just a planet or two; it encompasses solar systems and even galaxies. It’s entirely set apart from Earth, so any books or stories Sanderson sets on any version of Earth, (his Reckoners series, the Rithmatist series, etc.), have nothing to do with the Cosmere.
On a purely cosmological level, this setting is a huge playground, full of potential, where characters from different books can, have, and will end up meeting and interacting with each other across the stars. All of the Cosmere books are set amidst the various planets and systems and galaxies, and through various methods, there have already been some interplanetary crossover between certain characters. As Sanderson continues this epic story, those connections are only going to increase, leading to some interesting results.
On a slightly more abstract note, it’s also important to note that there are three different realms of existence in the Cosmere: the Physical Realm, the Cognitive Realm, and the Spiritual Realm. All things possess an aspect in each realm; Physical is the world you stand on now, Cognitive is the realm of thought and intentionality, and may be a method to allow travel between planets (accounting for some of the aforementioned inter-narrative meet-ups), and Spiritual has only been hinted at, but it seems to be, of course, some sort of afterlife. Not much is known about these realms currently, but as Sanderson’s characters learn more and more, they could hold the key to some very interesting opportunities.
So, we have various god-like beings tinkering around with the fundamental forces of the Cosmere for their own ends and curiosities. That all sounds well and good, except there is a caveat, as there always must be: the longer a person holds a Shard, the more that Shard’s influence comes to bear. The person who holds the Shard of Ruin was said to be a good man before taking it up, but after so many millennia, he literally became Ruin, the singular aspect of it driving him to assume the full mantle of destruction, cruelty, and pain. So while this influence is welcome in such Shards as Preservation, Honor, and Cultivation, it can lead to disastrous results in Shards that exert a more negative or destructive influence.
Whoa, that sounds intriguing. But this is a lot of information. What’s the actual story here?
Ah, you’re right! To pick up the story so far: when Adonalsium was shattered, and broke into sixteen Shards, the sixteen people present at the Shattering took up these Shards, one each, and found their way to different planets. They then set about doing what they felt compelled to do: make life, tinker with magic, and explore their new abilities.
Except, remember that caveat above, about how the longer a person holds their Shard, the more the Shard starts to override their personality, until they’re essentially transformed into that Shard? Well, then let me introduce you to a charming fellow by the name of Odium, whose Shard is basically an overwhelming hatred and disgust of pretty much everyone and everything. Consumed by the intense hatred of his Shard, Odium decided that there could be no other Shards, and instead of taking them for himself (which would change his personality and the influence of his own Shard), he simply decided to destroy the others.
I’ll not recount all the details for fear of spoilers, but needless to say, Odium has been somewhat successful in his relentless hatred and pursuit of war in the Cosmere. While not much is known about him, he has only just begun to rear his hateful head in The Stormlight Archive, and I can only assume we’ll get to know him as he was before taking up his Shard, as well as his motivations and his fall, as the story of the Cosmere coalesces.
But wait! Before you think all is lost against this enormous, cosmic force of hatred, you should know that hope prevails. There’s someone out there who understands what’s going on, and is actively working against Odium: a strange, witty, beguiling, and powerful man by the name of Hoid.
Appearing in incredibly subtle roles throughout Sanderson’s earlier books, Hoid is slowly coming into the spotlight of the Cosmere. Not much is known about him, except that he can travel from planet to planet, has potentially more than one magic system he can Invest into, and is extremely old—he was at the Shattering of Adonalsium, though he holds no Shard. He knows what’s really going on in the Cosmere as well as the stakes involved, and is endeavoring to recruit the remaining Shards and Worldhoppers (other powerful magic users like him who can traverse between Shardworlds) to help him stop Odium. What his endgame is, though, no one is quite sure.
Dang, that sounds intense. So what else do I need to know in order to read these awesome books?
Well, I wrote about this earlier, but when it comes to the Cosmere stuff? Don’t worry about it too much. Sanderson wrote all of this into the deep bones of his stories, and for the novels that are out now, you honestly don’t need a working knowledge of the Cosmere.
As you progress, you’ll start seeing the clues and start learning more about it, but don’t feel like you can’t enjoy the books on their own merits, without scouring them for deeper meanings and connections. Sanderson specifically writes his novels to be accessible, and while someday in the future readers will need to have a greater awareness of and familiarity with the Cosmere, we haven’t reached that point quite yet!
So what happens next?
Well, who knows? (Except for Sanderson!) We, the readers, don’t know a whole lot for sure, but there are a bunch of great forums and websites and wikis that are working hard to piece together the clues we have, and there are some fascinating theories and brilliant bits of speculation to delve into as we await further books set in the Cosmere.
What we do know is that Odium continues to wage war against the rest of the Shards, Hoid is (seemingly) out to stop him, and in between we have other Shards, Worldhoppers, and magic users from every planet in Sanderson’s work who have been or will be affected in some way, and will ultimately have to pick a side: will they stand against Odium and his all-consuming hatred, or will some recognize themselves in him, and join his devastating war against life?
Martin Cahill is a publicist by day, a bartender by night, and a writer in between. When he’s not slinging words at Tor.com, he’s contributing to Book Riot, Strange Horizons, and blogging at his own website when the mood strikes him. A proud graduate of the Clarion Writers’ Workshop 2014, you can find him on Twitter @McflyCahill90; tweet him about how barrel-aging beers are kick-ass, tips on how to properly mourn Parks and Rec, and if you have any idea on what he should read next, and you’ll be sure to become fast friends.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last time we were together, Kaladin went out for drinks with the guys and met some decidedly problematic patriots. This week, Shallan continues her researches into Urithiru and Lightweaving, with dubious help from Pattern.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Shallan Setting: Sebarial’s manor & warcamp Symbology: Pattern, Paliah, Shalash
IN WHICH there are maps, maps, maps—all showing Urithiru in different places; Pattern reads Dawnchant, because patterns; Vorin name games are weird; connections between the Urithiru legends begin to take shape; Shallan takes a bath; Pattern is disconcertingly curious about human anatomy, especially the private bits; Shallan realizes that she will probably never return to Jah Keved, considers her efforts to communicate with her brothers, and begins to develop plans to bring them to join her instead; she hurriedly prepares to meet her betrothed, wondering how to go about this wooing gig; on her way out, she wonders about Sebarial and Palona, and how such a smart man could have such chaotic ledgers; getting into the carriage, she checks with her soldiers and slaves to see how they are doing—well—and then proceeds to spend the ride playing with Stormlight; after some consideration, she decides not to use illusion as makeup when she meets Adolin.
Quote of the Week
“How do you reach a city if not by roads?” Shallan asked. “Nohadon could walk there, or so he claimed. But others do not speak of riding, or walking, to Urithiru.” True, there were few accounts of people visiting the city. It was a legend. Most modern scholars considered it a myth.
She needed more information. She scrambled over to Jasnah’s trunk, digging out one of her notebooks. “She said that Urithiru wasn’t on the Shattered Plains,” Shallan said, “but what if the pathway to it is here? Not an ordinary pathway, though. Urithiru was the city of Surgebinders. Of ancient wonders, like Shardblades.”
“Mm…” Pattern said softly. “Shardblades are no wonder…”
Shallan found the reference she was searching for. It wasn’t the quote she found curious, but Jasnah’s annotation of it. Another folktale, this one recorded in Among the Darkeyed, by Calinam. Page 102. Stories of instantaneous travel and the Oathgates pervade these tales.
Instantaneous travel. Oathgates.
“That’s what she was coming here for,” Shallan whispered. “She thought she could find a passageway here, on the Plains. But they’re barren stormlands, just stone, crem, and greatshells.” She looked up at Pattern. “We really need to get out there, onto the Shattered Plains.”
Two lovely little bits of foreshadowing here that I just have to point out.
“Shardblades are no wonder…”—not when you’ve been one, I guess. Thanks for the hint, Pattern, but I still didn’t catch on for a long time.
The whole thing of reaching a city not by roads, of a pathway from the Shattered plains, of ancient wonders, of instantaneous travel, of Oathgates… When I first read this, I had no idea how Brandon was going to make this happen. Sometimes I’m really glad I don’t figure these things out from the hints and foreshadows; discovering it along with Shallan was way better than merely having my suspicions confirmed! (On the other hand, I vaguely recall figuring out just enough about the Blades to be completely blown away by a) being right and b) getting a fulfillment so vastly grander than I suspected.)
Commentary
Research into the location of Urithiru now begins in earnest, as Shallan gets out every map she’s been able to acquire. The antics of cartographers are understandable, if annoying: most of them apparently consider their own land to be the most important, and therefore draw it at a larger scale than the rest of the world. Not quite sure how that works… I guess everything else just gets misshapen. The funny part is that none of them seem to claim that Urithiru is within their borders—it’s always just outside. That still places it all over the where, with no two maps agreeing. Poor Shallan.
Knowing what we know, of course, it makes a lot more sense; no one is quite sure exactly where it is, but each country (of the ten Silver Kingdoms, anyway) had a gateway that could get you there. It would be interesting to see all those maps; did they typically place Urithiru just outside the border nearest the location of their own Oathgate?
I wonder if the next book will show us Navani and Pattern working together to figure out the Dawnchant completely. Pattern is so adorably smug about it:
“You are not as good with patterns. You are abstract. You think in lies and tell them to yourselves. That is fascinating, but it is not good for patterns.”
Oddly enough, this is what segues into the best deduction Shallan has yet made—that Pattern’s way of looking at things, of seeing patterns but not metaphors, is the correct approach to “the pathway to Urithiru.”
Incidentally, I love the way Brandon stuck inconsistencies and general weirdness into the linguistics. Poor Pattern; not only do people have too many names (in this case, Nohadon), but the honorific name the ardents came up with to meet the need for symmetry isn’t symmetrical unless you understand the quirk about the h sound. So apparently, Nohadon would actually be written Nodadon or something like that. (Unfortunately, my computer doesn’t do the diacritical markings… or not without getting into more tomfoolery than I’m up for. I’ll just italicize it, okay?) So a Vorin speaker would see Nodadon, which is all lovely symmetry, and say Nohadon, which is by definition (and by definition only!) symmetrical. Obviously. Poor Pattern. At least he gets her back by recognizing the way in which the various scripts derive from the Dawnchant. Obviously.
Other tidbits: Shallan has set in motion the means to reconnect with her brothers after the loss of her half of their original spanreed, and plans to try to persuade them to leave the family estates and join her instead. Presumably, all this was done with the stipend Sebarial is indeed paying her—along with buying replacements for as many of the lost books as she could find.
Her slaves and soldiers seem to be doing well; the slave En even smiles at her, as he begins to get used to a much more pleasant mistress than he’s had for a long, long time. Vathah is grumpy, as is his habit; I can’t remember off the top of my head what finally shakes him out of it. (If anything.) And it still feels odd to read Gaz as a sympathetic character, given the way he was presented in The Way of Kings. He chuckles, he has an ear for wordplay, he eagerly searches out the books she wants. I still want to know more of his backstory; is this his natural self, and the foul-tempered lout of the previous book merely the effect of the debts? I can’t help thinking there’s more to his story. But it probably doesn’t matter.
Stormwatch
This is the next day, after Kaladin’s meet-up with the self-styled “patriots.”
Sprenspotting
I have to say, Shallan’s bath is much more entertaining than Elayne’s… mostly by virtue of her efforts to convince herself that there’s no need to be embarrassed by Pattern’s presence despite his masculine voice and identification. After all, the tub and the walls had spren, and that wasn’t a problem…
Shallan’s bath was also a lot shorter.
Ars Arcanum
This is rather a breakthrough chapter for Shallan. Not only does she begin to piece together the Urithiru puzzle, she makes progress on her Lightweaving and even figures out how to withdraw the Stormlight from an Illusion and make it go away. Short of draining every sphere in range, anyway, which is pretty much what always happened before.
She does have a block, though, that reminds me very much of the Aes Sedai weaving the One Power: she needs to sketch something in order to create an Illusion. Pattern indicates that it shouldn’t be necessary—which also answers an earlier debate about how someone like Elhokar could become a Lightweaver with no artistic training. Most Lightweavers don’t need to draw before they can create an Illusion. (Or, presumably, do any other creative artwork.) But for Shallan, it’s necessary. For now, at least… though I do have some hope that she’ll get over that as she grows into greater acceptance of who she is. Which reminds me…
“I’m quite good at that (inhaling Stormlight),” Shallan said sourly, “considering how short a time I’ve been doing it.”
“Short time?” Pattern said. “But we first…”
She stopped listening until he was done.
Argh.
Heraldic Symbolism
Paliah probably reflects the Scholar, as Shallan digs through all the maps and other information she has available, returning to the search for the way to Urithiru. Shalash, presumably, is the Artist and Lightweaver, as Shallan does a fair amount of both sketching and practicing.
Words of Radiants
Yet, were the orders not disheartened by so great a defeat, for the Lightweavers provided spiritual sustenance; they were enticed by those glorious creations to venture on a second assault.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 21, page 10
It never ceases to amaze me how much difference a single word can make in the tone of a sentence. “Enticed” makes me deeply distrustful of the Lightweavers in this scenario, whatever it was. Or maybe it’s just that the writer didn’t approve of the second assault. Or trust the Lightweavers. I have to keep reminding myself that the author of the in-book book is not, perhaps, the most reliable of narrators.
Shipping Wars
Shallan’s thoughts at the end of the chapter are thoroughly endearing, at least to me. Like most girls, she’s been comparing herself to the other women in the vicinity, and comes up short—both literally and figuratively (double meaning intended)—in her own estimation. It’s only reasonable that she would consider using her Lightweaving to just… augment things a little, here and there. Wisely, even though she calls herself foolish for it, she chooses to refrain and meet Adolin unenhanced. Also, this:
She’d have to rely, instead, upon her feminine wiles.
She wished she knew if she had any.
Heh.
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when we again go back in time to the darkening world that is the Davar family estate. Steel yourselves… but for now, head for the comment section and have fun!
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. With Sasquan 2015 a mere four weeks away, it’s still not too late to join 10,000 other fans and become a member—or even join the staff! The Con Suite will be run by another Sanderson beta-reader (small world!), and while the rumors of steak and lobster in the Staff Den remain only rumor, there’s sure to be something good. (Still counting on those bacon chocolate chip cookies…) Look for Wetlander at Registration any morning except Sunday—she’d really like to meet you there!
Big Damn Swords, orange blood, gods made of future metal… Brandon Sanderson’s books make use of a great variety of epic fantasy settings and magic systems, and each new series and short tale introduces yet more. 2015 marks ten years since Sanderson’s first fantasy novel Elantris was released, and since then the author has filled the shelves with so many different worlds that the ones that share the same grand universe are dubbed, simply, “The Cosmere.”
This variety of fantasy worlds sharing certain characteristics is not a new construct. (Role-playing games create this solely by virtue of publishing sequels.) But over the course of reading Sanderson’s novels, I started to notice more than a few parallels that the Cosmere has with the classic RPG series Final Fantasy.
Note: There are some spoilers ahead for existing Sanderson books in the Stormlight Archive and Mistborn series, as well as existing games in the Final Fantasy video game series. Nothing you don’t already know if you’ve read the books/played the games.
1. What if all the Final Fantasy games took place in the same universe? Enter: Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere.
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The FF games have vibrant characters and detailed worlds, but they also share certain elements: like the random monsters that plague your party, the weapons you can find, and how the presence of demi-gods (in the form of summonable beings) affects human society on that world. It’s fun for a player to imagine how a character from one game world (like Cloud from Final Fantasy VII) would deal with a situation in different game world (like the fantasy-medieval setting of Final Fantasy IX). Would he run to save Princess Garnet but end up stumbling to his knees, clutching his head? These are important questions, people.
Despite a few shared characteristics, chocobos, and cheeky cross-references, none of the Final Fantasy games actually take place in the same universe. Although they DID all cross over in a weird “non-canon” fighting game called Dissidia Final Fantasy, which strung all of the characters and settings together in with a loose dimension-crossing storyline. It provides the same kind of glee one gets from mixing everything in the toybox together, like so:
From a fan’s perspective, the urge to combine these games into one universe is always there, and it makes me wonder if this desire was part of the huge mix of inspirations that Sanderson must have been exposed to during his pre-publication writing period. The Final Fantasy games don’t really mix well without a lot of fan-created apparatus to hold them together, but what if you weren’t beholden to the various rules present in FF games? What if you could create a common mythology that allowed for the creation of several different types of fantasy worlds? And that allowed for the narratives in this worlds to grow naturally into bridging the gap between worlds (and book series)? This, in essence, seems to be what Sanderson is doing with the Cosmere.
2. Optimism and Agency in Final Fantasy and Sanderson’s Cosmere.
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Final Fantasy games allow the player embody characters that actively engage with their worlds, often following a narrative chain that turns into full resistance against that world’s order. In the earliest FF games, this was mostly because, well, it’s a game. You have to be a character that goes and does things, even if you’re something as random as Pac-Man or Q*bert, or else it’s not a game. Over time, these player characters are given more and more complex back stories, moving past the trope of “well, you’re destined, so…” and into narratives where the main character stumbles into the action. FF IV’s protagonist Cecil doesn’t realize the larger fight he’s in until he opens a box and unknowingly destroys a village. FF V’s protagonist Bartz literally has the plot drop on him (in the form of a meteor). VII’s Cloud would be happier to be left alone, and VIII’s main character Squall would be happier as a stain on the wall. Over the course of these games, these characters all discover the motivation for their struggle. In essence, their growth is tied to their choice to fight. Nearly every character in FF VI faces this personal struggle, and by the end of the story it becomes clear to the main character, Terra, that choosing to struggle means choosing to remain present to the world around you.
Choosing to fight for your world means having faith, and believing that your actions can lead to a better environment for others. Optimism in a better world motivates this faith, and in the mid to late 1990s and beyond, the Final Fantasy series began making this optimism far more central to the main characters. Final Fantasy IX, X, and XII all feature explorative, supportive, optimistic main characters in the form of Zidane, Tidus, and Vaan, respectively.
(Although Tidus’s optimism can get a little excessive.)
Final Fantasy’s optimistic main characters are key to understanding the worlds they inhabit, mostly because they’re all so eager to help and explain and change things about the world for others. Many of the main characters in Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere share this trait, something that has not gone unnoticed by the author himself:
In addition, we establish very quickly why Kelsier [in Mistborn] smiles so much. I’ve been accused of being a chronic optimist. I guess that’s probably true. And, because of it, I tend to write optimistic characters. Kelsier, however, is a little different. He’s not like Raoden [in Elantris], who was a true, undefeatable optimist. Kelsier is simply stubborn. He’s decided that he’s not going to let the Lord Ruler take his laughter from him. And so, he forces himself to smile even when he doesn’t feel like it.
Sanderson uses optimistic characters in the same manner that Final Fantasy does, to explain the world and push the narrative forward, but he also takes care to evolve his depiction of optimistic people from series to series. Elantris starts with a full-fledged optimist, Mistborn offers a begrudging and reactionary optimism in Kelsier, and the Stormlight Archive offers a complete deconstruction of the concept of optimism in the form of Kaladin, who struggles constantly with depression. We don’t know how Kaladin’s journey will change his optimistic viewpoint. In the same manner, Final Fantasy X players don’t know how learning more about the dystopic world of Spira will change Tidus.
In fact, of all the Final Fantasy games, I find the parallels between Final Fantasy X and the Stormlight Archive to be the strongest.
3. Stormlight, Pyreflies, Spheres, and Fiends.
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In the Stormlight Archive, stormlight itself is “radiant energy given off by highstorms that can be stored in gemstones,” since the gems and the stormlight itself both have value, these spheres are used as currency on Roshar, the world of the Stormlight Archive. Stormlight can be re-manifested by a person to achieve gains in that person’s strength, speed, stamina, and defense. We have yet to achieve confirmation that stormlight can manifest (or at least trigger a manifestation) of spren, the strange little creatures that appear in relation to emotions and also just because, but they can definitively provide a connection between a person and stormlight. Stormlight may or may not have its own will.
In Final Fantasy X, on its planet of Spira, energy takes the form of small globular pyreflies when condensed, and they can inhabit or condense further into spheres that hold memories or perform mechanical functions. Pyreflies can be passively absorbed by a person to achieve gradual gains in that person’s strength, speed, stamina, and defense. In the game, we learn that pyreflies are essentially a basic visible form of the energy binding all living beings. This energy can augment, record, and even re-manifest into aeons, strange and hugely powerful creatures; fiends, monsters that form from the pyreflies of restless beings; and individuals with strong memories associated with them. Later, we learn that a person’s own strength of will can allow them to reform themselves after dying, and that the world of Final Fantasy X is actually full of the living dead. Pyreflies, as such, often have their own will.
At one point in the game, you glimpse the realm where these pyreflies, the energy born of living will, all gather. It is a vast and eerie vista, essentially an afterlife containing all memories of all lands and peoples, called the Farplane.
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“ … a place with a black sky and a strange, small white sun that hung on the horizon … Flames hovered nearby … Like the tips of candles floating in the air and moving with the wind … An endless dark sea, except it wasn’t wet. It was made of the small beads, an entire ocean of tiny glass spheres…”
That isn’t the characters of Final Fantasy X describing the Farplane. That’s Shallan describing the Cognitive Realm, also known as Shadesmar, in The Way of Kings, the first novel in Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive series. Little has been revealed about the Cognitive Realm, but we do know that the act of thinking, in essence creating new memories, adds more real estate to the Realm. Possibly in the same manner that a Spiran’s will is added to the Farplane upon their death in Final Fantasy X.
Eventually, we find out that the source of Spira’s troubles (a giant Cloverfield monster aptly named “Sin”) is made of pyreflies and held together by the will of an angry alien entity called Yu Yevon. Yu Yevon’s true form isn’t human at all, rather, it appears as an extraterrestrial parasite. But Yu Yevon can manipulate the energy of Spira, the pyreflies, to create defenses for itself, so the main characters must sever that connection in order to have any chance of hurting this terrible alien god parasite.
In a sense, Yu Yevon’s actions in Final Fantasy X are a miniature version of what may have happened in Sanderson’s Cosmere. Currently, we know that the Cosmere was created by (or inhabited by) a god-like being known as Adonalsium. This being was shattered into 16 shards, each carrying an aspect of Adonalsium’s power, personality, and form. In Final Fantasy X, the malevolent Yu Yevon splits its attention and conducts its business through a variety of forms, the aeons and Sin in particular, each with their own power and personality. Is there a malevolent force behind the shattering of Adonalsium? And is that malevolent force acting through the shards? It’s impossible to say.
Maybe Adonalsium was shattered by…
4. Big Damn Swords.
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Really, really lucky (or privileged) individuals in the Stormlight Archive have access to Shardblades. These are, in essence, enormous magical swords that would be impossible for a regular person to wield. Just look at how big Oathbringer is!
Big Damn Swords are not unique to Sanderson’s Cosmere, epic fantasy, or pop culture in general, so it’s no surprise that the Final Fantasy series makes use of them as well. Probably the most notable Big Damn Sword in the whole series is the Buster Sword, wielded by the spindly-armed, spiky-haired main character Cloud in Final Fantasy VII. (Pictured above.) Cloud’s foe, the eerie Sephiroth, wields an even LARGER sword. Later on in the series, the character of Auron from FFX gets in on the big sworded-action, too, although he at least wields his Big Damn Sword properly, using its weight to provide some extra damage to fiends instead of swinging the thing around as if it were weightless. (Auron is full-measures, full-time.)
Whenever I read the Stormlight Archive or play Final Fantasy there are other small parallels that come to mind. They aren’t really parallels–they’re too small to be–but nevertheless the imagery is linked in my mind.
For one, whenever I read about a chasmfiend in Stormlight Archive, I always picture the Adamantoise monster from Final Fantasy X.
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(“Except with a shrimp mouth,” Carl informs me. He’s such a good friend.)
Additionally, whenever we return to the Bridge Four crew, I can’t help but joke to myself… bridges are important! For doing the king’s bidding!
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For getting places!
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Too soon?
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6. Mist
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One final parallel that the FF games have with Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere is mist. When I first picked up Mistborn, the mist-heavy setting alone excited me because I’m a big fan of Final Fantasy IX, which counts a planet shrouded in Mist as a major plot point. The Mist is used as fuel for airships, machines, and magic and it’s only later that you discover that, much as the mist in the Mistborn series is the soul of Preservation, the Mist in FFIX is comprised of the souls of beings from another world.
Mist appears again in Final Fantasy XII and in largely the same function, although in this case it’s not comprised of souls (hooray!) and only appears in places where magic has been used to an extreme extent. Mist in this game acts as an atmospheric wound upon the world.
While there are certainly a few parallels between Final Fantasy (particularly FFX) and Sanderson’s Cosmere, I severely doubt that those parallels could be used to predict the ongoing story or structure of the Cosmere. There are too many fundamental differences in both systems. The Cosmere doesn’t make use of elemental crystals, or airships, or even the summoned beings that are so key to the mythology of most the FF games. Similarly, while the FF games contain the seeds of ideas we see in the Cosmere, those ideas aren’t nearly as fleshed out as they are in Sanderson’s books. There are no interactive charts mapping out Allomancy, Feruchemy, and Hemalurgy, no hierarchies of shards and worlds they’ve interacted with, no sub-structure of realms and their effects on the aforementioned. None of this complexity exists in Final Fantasy.
Chris Lough writes a lot for Tor.com, not really on Twitter, and is working on a mind-blowing expose on how all horses in fantasy fiction are really just two people in a horse costume.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Shallan pored over maps and practiced her Lightweaving on the way to meet with her dazzling betrothed. This week, we jump back in time to see the effects of her Middlefest interventions… and the lack thereof.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here. Click on through to join the discussion.
Point of View: Li’l Shallan Setting: the Davar estate Symbology: Inverse Pattern, Vedeledev, Chach
IN WHICH Shallan, Balat, and Wikim act like a normal family and get into a pun-off; a carriage arrives; shouting ensues; Jushu is given away in payment for his own gambling debts—House Davar’s debts are too great to allow anything else; Shallan buys him back with two knives and love; more shouting follows; Father has found an ominous outlet for his anger.
Quote of the Week
“You are the type of man who profits from the gambling of others. You know that it usually leads to loss. I give you items of real value. Take them. Please?”
The man considered. He held out his hands for the daggers, and his man passed them over. He unsheathed one of the daggers and inspected it. “Name for me one reason I should show this man pity. In my house, he was an arrogant glutton, acting without thought for the difficulty he would cause you, his family.”
“Our mother was murdered,” Shallan said. “That night, as I cried, Jushu held me.” It was all she had.
This makes me cry all over again—for the little Shallan who didn’t understand why her mother tried to kill her, why she had to defend herself against the one who should protect her, and for the family who has now been torn apart by the death and the deception it brought. Much as I want to kick Jushu up one side and down the other, I also feel pity for him; he found his “escape” in a way just as self-destructive as his twin’s original plan, but he never escaped from his escape.
Commentary
Once again, the whole Davar scene makes my heart hurt.
This chapter starts out so cheerfully: Shallan’s efforts at Middlefest are paying off. Balat has pretty much stopped killing cremlings for fun, as his relationship with Eylita has developed further—directly resulting, I think, from the walk Shallan set up for them. He’s trying hard to man up and be a leader, even as their father descends further into his own private gloom, ambition, and madness. Wikim, too, has changed dramatically. He is thoroughly enjoying his maths, with the approval and support of the Davar ardents—support that for once even went so far as to rebuke Lord Davar for his anger, claiming that the Almighty approved of Wikim’s interests. He has come so far, in fact, that he is no longer suicidal, and by way of proof, he gives Shallan his pouch of blackbane. (DUN!)
In fact, Balat is much better mentally, and Wikim is much healthier physically and mentally, and they’re sitting in the gardens together, laughing and teasing one another. Their conversation is a hoot, especially when Wikim starts tossing metaphors to Shallan to see what she can make of them. Just like, you know, a real family… although Shallan is still trying too hard to distract them when any negative interactions come up.
And then we find that, apparently, Shallan was unable to do anything for Jushu like she had done for Balat and Wikim. Whether she never had the chance, or was unable to come up with anything that worked, we don’t know—but Jushu has still been out playing Prodigal Son to the hilt, gambling away somewhat more than his share of the family’s (non-existent) fortune. Now (if you’ll forgive the mixed metaphors) the time has come to pay the piper, and he has nothing with which to pay. A quick look at the books makes it clear that whether he wants to or not, Lin Davar has no money to redeem his son’s debts.
This is a bad, bad, bad place to be, and all the optimism of the first pages is blown out like a candle in a highstorm. ::sigh::
We don’t really know whether Shallan had made a similar attempt to help her father, but she does think that he’d been doing better. Whatever caused that—mostly likely simple lack of provocation—it’s over now. There’s a chilling incident when she goes to him to ask that he reconsider his denial of Jushu. For the first time in probably ever, he yells at her; when she (foolishly?) points out the apparent folly of his approach to “fixing” their problems, things get scary:
He looked at her, face shadowed but eyes reflecting light, like twin embers in the dark of his skull. In that moment, Shallan felt a terrifying hatred from her father. He strode over, grabbing her by the arms. Her satchel dropped to the floor.
“I’ve done this for you,” he growled, holding her arms in a tight, painful grip. “And you will obey. I’ve gone wrong, somewhere, in letting you learn to question me.”
She whimpered at the pain.
“There will be changes in this house,” Father said. “No more weakness. I’ve found a way…”
“Please, stop.”
He looked down at her and seemed to see the tears in her eyes for the first time.
“Father…” she whispered.
He looked upward. Toward his rooms. She knew he was looking toward Mother’s soul. He dropped her then, causing her to tumble to the floor, red hair covering her face.
This is, quite possibly, the closest either one ever comes to acknowledging the truth. It also strengthens my belief that his love for her has, over time and perhaps with Odium’s influence, been turned to equal parts fear of what she could do if she felt sufficiently threatened by him. That bit with the “terrifying hatred” makes me reasonably confident that Odium is involved here.
She defies him, however obliquely, long enough to redeem Jushu from his creditors. The results of her defiance, though… The serving maid is bloodied and has a broken arm (at least), and her father makes it eminently clear that this is what will happen as the alternative to hurting Shallan. Disobey, and someone else will pay the price.
Agony.
Stormwatch
This takes place three years ago, four months after Middlefest.
Sprenspotting
Angerspren, shamespren, fearspren. The Davar home is not a happy place these days, and the spren reflect it. Also, no Pattern… unless… well, we’ll go to Ars Arcanum for that.
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
I just have to point out a couple of small items. One, of course, is Sakisa the axehound, who totally acts like any dog. The other amused me:
Vines shook and withdrew before her, though as her pace sped up, she stepped on more and more of them, feeling them writhe beneath her feet and try to yank back. Cultivated vines had poor instincts.
Heh.
Ars Arcanum
So about that missing spren… Is it possible that Shallan was inadvertently Lightweaving with Balat and Wikim? She hasn’t consciously connected with Pattern for a long time, but she did something at Middlefest, during her conversation with Hoid. Could she also have done something with her brothers as well?
I honestly don’t think she did; I think she simply gave them a focus other than their pain, their fear, and themselves. But it’s an interesting thought.
Heraldic Symbolism
The Heralds for this chapter are Vedeledev and Chach. I’m thinking that Vedeledev is the Healer, reflecting the impact Shallan’s efforts have had on Balat and Wikim. I suppose the number four could be significant, being as Jushu is the fourth son, but it seems less likely. Chach could, perhaps represent the Dustbringers, but I think it’s more likely she’s here as Guard and/or for bravery. I’m guessing probably not obedience, unless you consider Shallan being obedient to Hoid’s encouragement to
Keep cutting at those thorns, strong one… Make a path for the light…
Well. That’s enough of that. Come commiserate with me in the comments, and next week we can cheer up when Shallan and Adolin have a real date. We’ll need the fun of that chapter, after the grief of this one!
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. With Sasquan 2015 a mere three weeks away, it’s not too late to become a member. Look for Wetlander at Registration—she’d really like to meet you. Also, don’t forget that Hugo voting ends this Friday at midnight Pacific Daylight Time. Finish it up—there’s some good reading to be done!
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, we went back in time to see Li’l Shallan enjoying an afternoon with the two brothers she was able to help, and redeeming the one she couldn’t. This week, we get to have a lot more fun as grown-up (ish) Shallan goes on her first real date with Adolin, and they chat about poop. Heh.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here. Click on through to join the discussion.
Point of View: Shallan Setting: The Storm Cellar! Symbology: Pattern, Palah, Chach
IN WHICH Shallan meets Adolin for their first date, and is wigged out to realize that they’re supposed to sit and drink and watch the highstorm’s approach; she is repeatedly dazzled by his smile, his hair, his smile, his cologne, his smile, his laugh, his eyes, his smile (yeah, a whole lot of dazzling going on up in here); her efforts to play the appropriate part in the courtship game are derailed by her innate curiosity; Adolin responds to her accidental candidness by also becoming more genuine; bodily functions and Shardplate make for an embarrassing mix; everything about the conversation goes askew; the possibility of chasmfiend ranching arises; Shallan takes the excuse to segue into her desire to get out onto the Shattered Plains; Adolin explains current affairs; the highstorm approaches, and Shallan finds herself mesmerized instead of terrified; they finally duck into shelter with a wasted six-second lead before the storm hits; Shallan retires to the women’s sitting room.
Quote of the Week
“Well,” Adolin said, “if you must know, an old adage on the battlefield teaches that it’s better to be embarrassed than dead. You can’t let anything draw your attention from fighting.”
“So…”
“So yes, I, Adolin Kholin—cousin to the king, heir to the Kholin princedom—have shat myself in my Shardplate. Three times, all on purpose.” He downed the rest of his wine. “You are a very strange woman.”
Yup, I still think it’s one of the funniest lines in all of fantasy literature.
Commentary
This was such a fun chapter to read, and such a hard chapter to write about! The conversation between Adolin and Shallan, replete as it is with Shallan mentally drooling over Adolin’s smile, eyes, etc., is entertaining and delightful, and there are so many exchanges that I’d love to copy… but you can read the chapter for that.
Aside from the shipping, which was SO much fun, the thing I found most compelling in this chapter was a development in Adolin’s character. Prior to this, even though we’ve been in his head, we’ve mostly seen his character through the eyes of Kaladin and Dalinar. Having said that, I must admit it’s a very odd statement. But I stand by it; his POVs have primarily focused on either his father or a battle. While this shows us his love, and respect for Dalinar, and is a superb perspective for a battle/duel scene, there’s not a lot about his actual motivation. The primary exception is that we’ve seen from the inside that he is intensely loyal, particularly to his father and brother.
So far, we’ve been given the mostly-external perspective of Adolin as a self-confident, even arrogant, prince; a fighter and duelist preoccupied with fashionable appearances and social acceptability. He’s not one to follow the stupider versions of “vanity-before-sanity” fashions, but he has a good sense of style and he does the things appropriate to his station in Alethi society. Dalinar thinks of him with great affection, but considers him somewhat hot-headed and overly concerned with the opinions of others; Kaladin merely thinks him spoiled, arrogant, and shallow. In either case, we’re not shown a man of particular depth.
This chapter gave me a whole different perspective. Back in Chapter 37, we got a hint, with this reaction when he saw Shallan for the first time:
Gorgeous red hair. There wasn’t a single lock of black in it. A slender build, so different from the curvaceous Alethi. A silken blue dress, simple yet elegant. Pale skin—it almost had a Shin look to it—matched by light blue eyes. A slight dusting of freckles under the eyes, giving her an exotic cast.
The young woman seemed to glide through the room. Adolin twisted about, watching her pass. She was so different.
Here in this chapter, everything changes (except that it’s from someone else’s POV again). At the beginning of the chapter, both of them are trying to be “proper” about this courtship gig; the theme is repeated again and again: the fashion folio, oversized so as not to be mistaken for a woman’s book. References to things they’re “supposed to do.” Act refined, because Adolin will expect sophistication. Act poised, elegant. This winehouse is the latest fad. Courting advice: “get him to talk about himself.” “He looked at her, expectant.” “…feeling as if she were filling an expected role.” “…dutifully looking at him with widened eyes.” “He paused…” “…what she hoped was a breathy, adoring voice.” “He paused again. She was probably supposed to ask what happened next.”
And then it all breaks loose.
“What if you need to poop?” she asked instead.
BAHAHAHAHA! The funniest part is that he starts to answer the questions she was “supposed” to ask—the question they always ask—before it registers what she in fact said. And then he answers her: honestly, bluntly, if somewhat reluctantly, and admits right out loud that “not going the way it’s supposed to” is kind of refreshing.
In rereading now, I was struck with the realization that honestly, he probably didn’t care all that much about fashion, and fads, and all the social hoo-hah. He just did what was expected of him (even if it was getting boring), because he had nothing else of great interest to do, no particular desire to rebel, and not much to rebel against anyway. He created an appropriate persona that more or less fit his interests and was suitable for his station, and lived in that persona, acting the part, dutifully following the script… until Shallan came and knocked him sideways.
“…Do you know how many times I’ve told that story about saving the plateau run?”
“I’m sure you were quite brave.”
“Quite.”
“Though probably not as brave as the poor men who have to clean your armor.”
Adolin bellowed out a laugh. For the first time it seemed like something genuine—an emotion from him that wasn’t scripted or expected. He pounded his fist on the table, then waved for more wine, wiping a tear from his eye. The grin he gave her threatened to bring on another blush.
Suddenly, they are in a real conversation. They talk about chasmfiends, and the possible result of the continued hunts; he outright acknowledges that he’s not as dense as he pretends to be. They talk about the Parshendi, and his dueling; she admits that she is terribly ignorant of the politics, because all the information she had from Jasnah was badly outdated. She asks him to tell her some of what is going on…
And he does. He tells her the whole story: Dalinar’s visions, the betrayal by Sadeas, their salvation by the bridge crew, his current quest to win as many Shardblades as possible through dueling. Letting it all out seems to lift a weight from him, and she finds herself wanting desperately to help him. Those paragraphs confirmed it: I am resolutely on this ship. They have each been bearing burdens, for their families and for the world, and they have been acting the parts given them. Finally, here in this unlikely betrothal, they have each discovered a fitting partner: they’ve found someone to laugh with, to relax with; someone with whom they can be open, honest, natural; someone who brings out the best in them.
I love this chapter.
Stormwatch
Heh. Literally: Stormwatch. This is the same day as Chapter 47, of course. But I shall take advantage of the Stormwatch header to quote something fascinating:
The stormwall.
A huge sheet of water and debris blown before the storm. In places, it flashed with light from behind, revealing movement and shadows within. Like the skeleton of a hand when light illuminated the flesh, there was something inside this wall of destruction.
…
Life. Something lived inside that storm, something that no artist had ever drawn, no scholar had ever described.
I’ll… just leave that there for you to consider.
Sprenspotting
In conjunction with the aforementioned stormwatching, “Windspren zipped in tiny rivers of light overhead.” Pattern is nowhere to be seen–even by Shallan—during their conversation, though she hears him humming as the storm approaches. What is that supposed to mean?
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
Greatshells ahoy! This was an intriguing excursion into the biology of local fauna. Shallan postulates that chasmfiends, rather than being hunted as they’d always been, are now being essentially harvested, resulting in a decrease in the overall population. Oddly, rather than suggesting that they should stop, she instead draws the conclusion that perhaps the greatshells could be raised like chulls, breeding them and harvesting the gemhearts in entire batches. Greatshell ranching FTW! Might have problems with poachers.
Heraldic Symbolism
Palah and Chach preside over this chapter; the scholar and the guard—or learned/giving and brave/obedient. I’d like to hear your thoughts on their relevance here, because all I’ve got is Shallan going all biology-teacher on Adolin, and his bravery in battle—or perhaps that of his armorers.
Words of Radiants
These Lightweavers, by no coincidence, included many who pursued the arts; namely: writers, artists, musicians, painters, sculptors. Considering the order’s general temperament, the tales of their strange and varied mnemonic abilities may have been embellished.
–From Words of Radiance, chapter 21, page 10
This is from the same page as the epigraph of Chapter 47. The tone of this one, combined with what we know of Shallan’s own “strange… mnemonic abilities,” makes me think that the narrator may not be completely unbiased. So maybe the mistrust of the Lightweavers I got from the previous epigraph is more appropriately directed at the writer of this book?
Shipping Wars
Shallan and Adolin! Uh… we pretty much talked about that already.
Just Sayin’
This isn’t so much in-world phrasing, but in-world fashion. Believe it or not, it only just now occurred to me that the folio Adolin is examining gives us the visuals for the “Lift” interlude, which we’ll get to in…um… a couple of months or so. Okay, I’m slow sometimes.
There’s a lot in this chapter I didn’t address. Navani, the parshmen, Shallan’s drawings, the yu-nerig, thoughts on Jasnah and Tyn and Kabsal, the reactions of the Alethi women to Shallan’s presence… Please feel free to bring it all up in the comments! There’s plenty to keep us busy until next week, when we follow Adolin into the men’s sitting room for some frustrating confrontations during the storm, and then return with him to the Kholin complex for the aftermath.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Currently her thoughts are focusing toward preparations for her first-ever con experience: WorldCon 73, also known as Sasquan 2015. Anyone else planning to be there?
We’ve talked a lot about Brandon Sanderson and his many works, his worlds, his magic systems, and beyond. One thing we’ve not yet discussed are the amazing and robust line of characters that inhabit these wondrous landscapes and intriguing plots! These characters come from all walks of life. Some have lived in the gutters, and others have walked the battlefield countless times over. Some study in libraries, some study in combat. Some are gifted with great power, and still, others try to take it for themselves. But no matter where they come from, they’re all important, and they’re all worthy of your time.
Many of them seem to have key roles to play in Brandon Sanderson’s overall Cosmere, as well, and may appear in forthcoming books outside of their established series, so it may be useful to know of them beforehand!
We’ll start with the more street-level heroes of Sanderson’s work, and move up to folks on a more cosmic scale:
One of the first point of view characters we meet in the Stormlight Archives, he starts off his narrative stuck in a slave camp for a crime he most certainly didn’t commit. Though he can be brash and stubborn, Kaladin is one of the most honorable characters in the series, and it’s this virtue that leads the self-aware spren Syl to him, a being of immense power who starts him on his path to becoming a Knight Radiant. He’s classified as a Windrunner, which means he can handily manipulate atmospheric pressure and gravitation when the mood suits him. (That is if he can stop falling on his face; gravity training is hard.)
Dalinar Kholin, Bondsmith and Professional Badass (Stormlight Archive):
Another point of view character in the Stormlight Archive, Dalinar is brother to the King of Alethkar, Gavilar, and together, they fought to unite the warring princes of their fractured nation. However, after failing Gavilar on the night he was assassinated, Dalinar has been working tirelessly to keep the peace they fought for from shattering. This difficult task would be easier to accomplish if he stopped having incessant visions of events that happened centuries ago. And if that voice in the sky would stop threatening him.
Image may be NSFW. Clik here to view.
Art by Michael Whelan
Shallan Davar, Liar and Lightweaver Extraordinaire (Stormlight Archive):
We meet Shallan, another important point of view character from the Stormlight Archive, on a journey to learn from Jasnah, the greatest mind of her generation. Before stealing Jasnah’s most prized possession, that is. Readers soon learn that Shallan has more she’s running from than towards. She, too, is a proto-Knight Radiant, and is classified as a Lightweaver, able to manipulate waveforms of all kinds (sound, light, touch, etc.) as well as utilize the ability of transformation. She’s accompanied by a creepy and cutely neurotic companion named Pattern, who helps craft her lies into convincing magic. Now if she could only stop lying to herself…
Jasnah Kholin, Scholar (Stormlight Archive):
The scholar that Shallan sought patronage from, and the niece of Dalinar, Jasnah is interesting for two very certain reasons. The first is that she’s a brilliant scholar and atheist in a world where gods have clearly tampered, and so brings a unique perspective to this world of gods and men. Second, she’s had her Radiant abilities for some time, and has gotten so good at them that she can literally turn you into glass.
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Art by Michael Whelan
Szeth, the Assassin in White (Stormlight Archive):
Someone out there is killing Knights Radiants and world leaders, and that someone is Szeth. A Surgebinder and Windrunner, just like Kaladin, Szeth can be controlled by an Oathstone. He recently declared himself free of the orders of his (former) masters, and was granted the sword Nightblood from Warbreaker. Szeth is a wild card in the story of the Stormlight Archive, and quite probably represents the wills of characters playing a larger, Cosmere-sized, game.
Shai, Forger by Birth, Thief by Choice (The Emperor’s Soul):
She’s crafty, she’s quick, she’s smart, and she has about five different identities, all of which can kick your ass. From the novella, The Emperor’s Soul, Shai is a Forger, meaning she can craft new or alternate histories of objects, areas, and even people, and enforce that new history. She can make an old table new again, or rewrite an entire person’s life. When she’s caught trying to steal an artifact from the Rose Empire, she is given two choices: execution, or using her powers to recreate the mind of an almost-assassinated emperor. Shai is on the list because not only does she have a very interesting background and abilities, but she’s one of the few characters we meet with an overwhelming knowledge of Realmatic Theory and how the three realms that make up the Cosmere, Physical, Cognitive, and Spiritual, work together.
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Art by Sam Weber
Vin, Ascendant Warrior (Mistborn):
Our point of view from the first Mistborn trilogy (The Final Empire, The Well of Ascension, The Hero of Ages), Vin starts out at the bottom of the ladder, living under the thumb of the Lord Ruler, whose immense power has quashed any sort of rebellion for centuries. When she joins up with a rag-tag group of con-men and mistings (magic users), she discovers that she’s a Mistborn, a rare person with the ability to use all metals for magic, and all of their effects. Vin is our underdog, constantly being pushed and pushing back, learning about her magic until she has to not only learn where it came from, but inhabit it fully. One of the Slivers of the Cosmere, someone who’s wielded a Shard of Adonalsium, Vin is powerful but compassionate, growing both as a person and a hero with the help of her love, Elend, and her mentor, Kelsier. Although Vin’s story appears to be done, Sanderson’s readers surely wouldn’t mind her reappearing miraculously in other Cosmere-centric stories.
Kelsier, Metallic Messiah, Kinda (Mistborn):
Kelsier is Vin’s mentor, and a fully fledged Mistborn himself, having discovered his abilities after being “broken” under the rule of the Lord Ruler, due to the murder of his wife and his subsequent imprisonment in a mining colony. While not the most stable man, his heart is in the right place as he sets about trying to depose the Lord Ruler and rid the world of his tyranny. What he’s up to now, no one knows. But there’s a ghost of a chance he’s still around somewhere…
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Art by Chris McGrath
Waxillium Ladrian, or How the West was Won . . . with Allomancy (Mistborn: The Alloy of Law):
Waxillium Ladrian is the main character of The Alloy of Law, a short story turned novel turned multi-book Mistborn series set 300 years after the events of the first trilogy. Wax was a bounty hunter who hunted in the Roughs, an area far outside the major cities of Scadrial, who is called back to the city (and his noble heritage) after the death of his uncle. Wax is on this list for two reasons: The first is that he’s a Twinborn, someone born with the ability to use both Allomancy AND Feruchemy, which is something we’ve only just seen recently in the Mistborn series and the Cosmere at large. He’s able to push on the metal around him, while also being able to increase and decrease his weight, which leads to some handy advantages over the outlaws he brings in. Second, Wax seems to be hooked into a larger scheme, with a certain god gently tugging the lure; something we’ll learn more about in the forthcoming Shadows of Self.
Slivers, Splinters, and Worldhoppers: The Demi-Gods Among Us
The Lord Ruler aka Metallic Messiah? (Mistborn):
Centuries ago, the Terrisman who would become the Lord Ruler, Rashek, murdered the supposed Hero of Ages, and took on a wealth of power at the Well of Ascension, becoming a Sliver of one of the Cosmere’s Shards in the process. He changed the planet’s orbit, its geography, and the people who lived on it, all in an attempt to A) keep Ruin at bay and B) to cement his rule over the planet. He also gifted himself Allomancy in addition to his natural Terrisman Feruchemical abilities, making him the only Fullborn, essentially granting himself immortality and devastating power. Although he only held a Shard for a fraction of a moment, the results changed the face of his entire planet. It has been hinted that we’ll learn more about the Lord Ruler in Bands of Mourning, the third book in the Wax and Wayne Mistborn series, which comes out in January of 2016.
The Stormfather classifies as a “Splinter” of a Shard; power that has been broken off of a Shard and subsequently obtained sentience. Sometimes this breaking is a purposeful action, as it was with the creation of the Seons on the world of Elantris, and sometimes it manifests on its own, as the Stormfather did. While we don’t know his specific origin, he seems to be an echo of a dead Shard, capable of manipulating Roshar’s highstorms in catastrophic ways. Where did he really come from? How was he made? What is he capable of, now that a certain somebody is bonded with him? From what we can tell, the Stormfather suffered greatly when the Shard Honor died and the Knights Radiant turned their back on their spren. And now, he’s barely hanging on.
Hoid, The Wanderer, The Trickster (Everything):
Pft, this guy. What a pain in the neck. Mister I’ve-Been-In-Every-Book-Whether-You’ve-Noticed-Me-Or-Not. Not only is he sneaky, he’s supposed to have every magic trick in the book. Plus, he’s a Worldhopper, able to travel between planets in the blink of an eye. He’s so frustratingly enigmatic that I’d hate him if I didn’t love him. Hoid is a mysterious character who we’re still learning about, bit by bit. What we do know is that he’s been around for centuries, and was present at the shattering of Adonalsium. Hoid’s story obviously holds the key to a greater understanding of the Cosmere.
Sazed aka Harmony:
Sazed was a Terrisman scholar set to teach Vin and watch over her in her training as both a Mistborn and as a disguised noblewoman. A feruchemist, he stored all his scholarly knowledge in his metalminds, and even as he grappled with his faith and understanding of the world, he never stopped learning and cataloging. It was only at the end, as Scadrial drowning in ash and stellar fire, the corpses of two Shards before him, that he realized what he had to do. Sazed took on both Shards, becoming something new in the process. The merging of Preservation and Ruin produced a new Shard: Harmony. Now he watches over the planetary system of Scadrial, plumbing the Cosmere for answers and learning of the new power he holds.
Vasher aka The Irritable Immortal plus OMG NIGHTMARE SWORD:
One of the best characters from Warbreaker was Vasher, a highly accomplished scientist, Awakener, and warrior, fighting to keep the city he reluctantly loves from crumbling to bits. He’s also the creator of a special, sentient and powerful blade known as Nightblood, whose idea of a fun time is to consume the soul or Breath of the user until they wither and die and can’t play anymore. Vasher may be grumpy as hell, but he’s smart and knows a ton about Realmatic theory and Investiture. He’s been around a long time and doesn’t always live on the planet of Nalthis. Without spoiling too much, Vasher may be living somewhere new at the moment. But someday, somehow, he’ll going to be drawn back into trouble again, and it’ll all be thanks to that stupid death-sword.
Khriss and Nazh aka Haven’t We Met Somewhere?:
We actually haven’t met these characters, but we’ve seen their handiwork across the Cosmere. Khriss is suspected to be the one writing the Ars Arcanum at the end of each book, cataloging and theorizing on the various forms of Investiture on each planet. She also seems to intensely dislike Hoid.
Nazh meanwhile, is her personal illustrator, being sent on missions to different worlds to draw and record what he finds, be it maps, outfits, people, creatures, and more. While these two are shrouded in mystery, they’re most certainly connected to Hoid, Odium, and the Cosmere at large.
Gods: Shards of the Cosmere
Ruin (Mistborn):
One of the Shards of Scadrial, Ruin used to be a man named Ati, until the Shard he held twisted him into a destructive being, whose whole mind, body and soul were dedicated to the ideas of cataclysm and destruction and endings: in essence, Ruin. Though he and his opposing Shard, Preservation, fought for many years, there could be no clear victor because of their diametric opposition. So Preservation cheated and locked Ruin away from the world. Furious, Ruin’s whole purpose became to escape and end the planet he inhabited. He came extremely close to succeeding, too, but was ultimately halted thanks to the interference of Vin.
Preservation (Mistborn):
The other Shard of Scadrial, Preservation used to be a man named Leras until the Shard he held began to overwhelm him and turn him into a being that honored life above all else: in essence, Preservation. Knowing Ruin would always hound his efforts, Preservation did his best to lock Ruin away, though he lost part of himself in the process. It was Preservation who used a part of himself to gift Allomancy to the people of Scadrial, and even as he neared death, his spirit lingered on to help in the form of mist.
Honor (Stormlight Archive):
Alas, not much is known about Honor, except that he was apparently a good man who tried to take Odium head on and lost. At least in his losing he found a way to trap Odium from leaving a certain Stormlight-y solar system. There are still echoes of him throughout Roshar, but unfortunately, he’s gone the way of Marley and is as dead as a doornail…or is he? (Really, I don’t know, but maybe?)
Cultivation (Stormlight Archive):
Honor’s lover. We know very, very little about her, except that she’s somewhere on Roshar, and she’s bunkered down, hiding from Odium to stay alive. Her influence can be seen in the spren that represent aspects of nature, but this is the limit of what we currently know about her. Some suspect she may be the Night Watcher, but there’s no confirmation of that. We do know that she can look into the future, though the extent and solidity of that ability is unknown.
Odium (Stormlight Archive):
A Shard holder, Odium apparently used to be a good man, but after spending so much time embodying the hatred present within the Cosmere, the man he was is no longer. All that’s left is an awful entity, bent on destroying everything that isn’t it. Odium is responsible for the death of every Shard so far, and it would have gone on to kill more had Honor not found a way to bind it to the solar system that it’s currently in. Not much is known of Odium, but I’m certain as the books continue on, we’ll come to know more of this cruel being’s purpose and ultimate end game.
Adonalsium:
Adonalsium isn’t so much a being as it is a term, being what the sixteen Shards were before they shattered. It comprised what some called God, or at least an immensely powerful aspect of Creation. It is a name that haunts the Cosmere, and you can find mentions of it throughout Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere books. It’s only a matter of time before we come to understand what Adonalsium was, what it is now, and what it will be in the years to come.
Note: There are more shards that have been revealed outside of the books, from interviews, AMAs, and other discussions with Brandon, but have not been revealed in the books yet. You can see a full list here.
So there you have it: a collection of heroes, saviors, enigmas, and gods, all grappling and fighting and struggling with one another in the vast sea of the Cosmere. While these people are only the tip of the iceberg of Sanderson’s wide cast of characters, I hope the above is more than enough to send you to your local bookshop, and learn their stories for yourself!
NEW READERS, here’s the full primer on Brandon Sanderson:
Martin Cahill is a publicist by day, a bartender by night, and a writer in between. When he’s not slinging words at Tor.com, he’s contributing to Book Riot, Strange Horizons, and blogging at his own website when the mood strikes him. A proud graduate of the Clarion Writers’ Workshop 2014, you can find him on Twitter @McflyCahill90; tweet him about how barrel-aging beers are kick-ass, tips on how to properly mourn Parks and Rec, and if you have any idea on what he should read next, and you’ll be sure to become fast friends.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, the Shallan-Adolin ship went sailing on the high seas, with curiosity and… unaccustomed frankness, shall we say? This week, Adolin is repeatedly disturbed by people and events which are beyond his power to affect; it’s a rough evening for our boy.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here. Click on through to join the discussion.
Point of View: Adolin Setting: the Storm Cellar, the Kholin complex Symbology: the Duelist, Palah
IN WHICH Adolin waits out the highstorm in the men’s bunker of this Storm Cellar; he speaks briefly to Elit about their upcoming duel and is snarled at for his pains; Sadeas strolls over to taunt him, and it very nearly works; Adolin’s response earns the approval of his bridgeman guard; he wanders through the markets, idly considering the earlier events of the day and the future event of tomorrow’s meeting with the Parshendi; as he returns to the Kholin domicile, he finds the bridgemen-guards in a bit of a turmoil over a new set of glyphs scratched into the sitting-room floor; Dalinar assumes responsibility for them, presumably part of his vision-trance, and Navani seems to agree; the end date of the countdown is duly noted.
Quote of the Week
Sadeas smiled again. “Do you think me an evil man, Adolin?”
“That’s too simple a term,” Adolin snapped. “You’re not just evil, you’re a selfish, crem-crusted eel who is trying to strangle this kingdom with his bulbous, bastard hand.”
“Eloquent,” Sadeas said. “You realize I created this kingdom.”
“You only helped my father and uncle.”
“Men who are both gone,” Sadeas said. “The Blackthorn is as dead as old Gavilar. Instead, two idiots rule this kingdom, and each one is—in a way—a shadow of a man I loved.”
A selfish, crem-crusted eel. Nice one, Adolin. Very accurate as well as eloquent. Sadeas, how I love to hate you. Vile wretch.
Commentary
Oh, hey, look! It’s an Adolin chapter! Hope you didn’t wear out the subject last week… (Seriously – that was amazing! I was gone on a mini-vacation with family and friends for three days, and I had major reading to do to catch up with y’all!)
This week we’re in Adolin’s head in the aftermath of his date with Shallan, and I have to revisit that subject very quickly. He’s very pleased that “this thing with Shallan” seems to be working, because she’s marvelous, exotic, witty, and not smothered in Alethi propriety. (Would that infer what we’d call “Victorian propriety” or “Alethi social expectations of behavior?” I suspect the latter. We can discuss the implications in the comments.) Also, he thinks that she’s smarter than he is but doesn’t make him feel stupid – and it’s implied that it’s rather an Alethi thing for the women to make sure the men know how much “smarter” they are.
I find myself deeply irritated by Vorin tradition. Adolin is not at all sure the betrothal will continue to work, since his relationships always work at first and fall apart later. Add to that the “she didn’t make him feel stupid” comment, and it makes me want to smack Alethi society at large. Any man who is reasonably intelligent but has a very limited education because “it’s not manly” would have to be very frustrated by all the well-educated women who confuse “uneducated” with “unintelligent” and correspondingly treat men like idiots. Even if it’s a subconscious irritation, it’s got to be there. (As a student of literature, I’m delighted with the relatively subtle inversion of expectations. As an observer of pop culture, it reminds me far too much of the typical sitcom and advertising trope where men are assumed to be stupid and incompetent, and only manage to survive by virtue of possessing an intelligent wife/girlfriend. GRRR.)
So here sits Adolin. For once in his life, he’s had a conversation with a woman who assumes that he’s intelligent enough to understand what she’s talking about. Even when she was being witty at his expense, she invited him in to the fun rather than making him the butt of it for others. IMO he was complimented by both of those, and it’s probably the first time in his life that’s happened. No wonder his relationships never last beyond a week or two.
Okay, back to the chapter. It opens with Adolin tossing a mild taunt or two at Elit about the seven-day wait for their upcoming duel; this is followed almost immediately by Sadeas throwing a couple of veiled taunts at Adolin about his overt flouting of the king’s—and Dalinar’s—authority. For a minute I wondered why Sadeas’s taunting bothered me so much more than Adolin’s, and if I was just being biased, but I don’t think that’s it. Not all of it, anyway. Elit has a legitimate means of getting back at Adolin: they’re dueling in two more days, and it was Elit’s choice to set the uncommonly long delay in the timing. Sadeas, on the other hand, is goading Adolin deliberately, knowing perfectly well there’s nothing Adolin can do about it without both undermining Dalinar and getting himself in horrible trouble.
Speaking of which… foreshadowing again.
A small part of him wished for Sadeas to provoke him, push away his inhibitions, drive him to do something stupid. Killing the man right here, right now, would likely earn Adolin an execution—or at least an exile. It might be worth either punishment.
Sadeas does his unholy best to provoke: pointing out the uncut gemstones on his ring and his coat, gained by doing an unauthorized plateau run in open contempt of Dalinar’s orders; making smart remarks about his “former property” who are now patrolling the markets; renouncing Elhokar’s appointment of him as Highprince of Information – and clearly indicating that no one else will accept any similar appointments from Elhokar; sneering at both Dalinar and Elhokar; hinting that neither of them will survive when Sadeas makes his move; and outright telling Adolin that “you’ll understand and agree with me eventually.”
Adolin managed to keep himself under control. He refrained from doing any physical violence that could get him in trouble, but at the same time he made it eminently clear that he was opposed to Sadeas in every way. I’m still wondering which of those gained him Skar’s nod of respect.
I just have to toss in a couple of other odd notes. One is Adolin’s realization that there is a parshman among the bridgemen, wearing a guardsman uniform and holding a spear. It’s funny in context (since we know why “Shen” is there) and heartbreaking in another (since we know why Rlain is there). When he points it out to Dalinar, he’s all, “Yeah, it’s cool. I was curious what would happen.”
The other thing is one that was mentioned last week in the discussion: Adolin’s Blade. I have to just quote the whole passage:
Adolin summoned his Blade, then dismissed it, then summoned it again. A nervous habit. The white fog appeared—manifesting as little vines sprouting in the air—before snapping into the form of a Shardblade, which suddenly weighed down his hand.
Brandon has confirmed that the “little vines” are because the Blade was originally an Edgedancer’s spren. While this is the only time I can find that someone’s Blade-summoning is described in this much detail, I’m not yet convinced that the process itself is significantly different than anyone else’s. It’s generally described as mist coalescing into the silvery Blade.
Stormwatch
True Stormwatch event in this chapter:
“Thirty-two days. Seek the center.”
“Seek the center.” I like the way the two drivers for the upcoming expedition dovetail. Dalinar, the soldier & highprince with the authority, is getting magically-delivered instructions to seek the center of the Shattered Plains. Shallan, the well-on-her-way magic user with the ability to find and operate the target, is getting instructions from research and old stories to search out the ancient city of Stormseat that used to be in the center of Natanatan. Sneaky.
Note, also, that Navani has counted out the countdown, and the end date is in the middle of the Weeping, rather than being the date of a highstorm as Dalinar hoped. It is also two days before the end of the year, and there just doesn’t seem to be any significance to the date at all. I guess she’ll just have to wait and see…
Ars Arcanum
We don’t know it yet, of course, but we’re seeing extremely accurate Truthwatching from Renarin and Glys right here.
Does anyone still seriously believe that Dalinar did this without realizing it? I know Dalinar takes the blame here, though of course he doesn’t remember doing it. This is totally inconsistent with his previous experience in the visions, where he could remember everything that happened. As he says himself, this is an awkward way for him to get the information; if it’s coming to him from the Stormfather, why could it not be included in the visions? Why would it be sent to his subconscious for him to scratch it into the ground, or the wall? The most logical answer, despite his assumption, is that it’s not coming to him – and certainly not from the same source as the visions. Honor even told him, in so many words, that he wasn’t much good at seeing the future. Cultivation, on the other hand, is… and Truthwatchers are directly in the center of the Cultivation side of the circle.
But of course they don’t know about that stuff yet, so Renarin’s activity goes unnoticed, and Dalinar assumes the responsibility for it.
Heraldic Symbolism
Palah is the Herald of the Truthwatchers. That is all.
Okay, it’s not quite all. Because Palah: Scholar, Learned/Giving, Truthwatchers, Emerald, Pulp, Wood/Plants/Moss, Hair is on this chapter arch twice. Once might be for Sadeas and his stinking uncut emerald gems, but the other has to be for Renarin the Truthwatcher. So say I.
Words of Radiants
And now, if there was an uncut gem among the Radiants, it was the Willshapers; for though enterprising, they were erratic, and Invia wrote of them, “capricious, frustrating, unreliable,” as taking it for granted that others would agree; this may have been an intolerant view, as often Invia expressed, for this order was said to be most varied, inconsistent in temperament save for a general love of adventure, novelty, or oddity.
–From Words of Radiance, chapter 7, page 1
Willshapers. We really don’t know much about them, do we? Their Surges are Transportation (motion, Realmatic transition) and Cohesion (strong axial interconnection); we know guess a fair bit about the first one, but I’ve heard very little explanation of the second. In any case, they appear to be the adventurers – but they also are associated with the Builder (Kalak). I do suspect the epithets of “erratic, capricious, frustrating, and unreliable” are artifacts of people who really, really don’t understand what drives them as an Order.
(Just in case anyone cares, I’ve officially given up my expectation that Adolin would be a Willshaper, and now hope that he’ll become a real Edgedancer so he can awaken his Blade.)
Shipping Wars
Wow, last week’s wars were really something! Carry on, carry on.
Just Sayin’
“Shalashian temperament” as an excuse to renounce your post as Highprince of Information, eh? What’s that supposed to mean?
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when Adolin ventures forth disguised as Dalinar to meet with Eshonai. This should be rich…
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. WorldCon 2015 is next week, and she is very much looking forward to meeting some of you there. Go find her at Registration, any morning between 8:30 and 12:30.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Adolin held his temper with Sadeas but nearly lost his cool over a new Stormwatch warning. This week, he takes over another of Dalinar’s roles as he goes out to meet with Eshonai about the proposed Parshendi surrender.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Adolin Setting: the Shattered Plains Symbology: Duelist, Chach, Ishar
IN WHICH Adolin makes Decisions; an Expotition is Planned; Adolin wins an Argument; as a result, he rides out on his father’s horse, wearing his brother’s armor; he and his escort meet Eshonai and her escort, with uneasiness on both sides; Adolin takes a scribe with him to speak with Eshonai between the two groups; pretending to be Dalinar, he opens by suggesting that they discuss her surrender; she seems much different than last time they met, and no longer wishes to parley; she tells him that there will be peace when one side is dead; Adolin returns to the warcamp to find Dalinar already planning a different, much larger Expotition—one which will take the battle to the Parshendi and an ending.
Quote of the Week
“Father!” Adolin snapped. “This is not subject to discussion!”
The room fell silent. Dalinar lowered his hand from the map. Adolin stuck out his jaw, meeting his father’s eyes. Storms, it was difficult to deny Dalinar Kholin. Did his father realize the presence he had, the way he moved people about by sheer force of expectation?
Nobody contradicted him. Dalinar did what he wanted. Fortunately, these days those motives had a noble purpose. But in many ways he was the same man he had been twenty years ago, when he’d conquered a kingdom. He was the Blackthorn, and he got what he wanted.
Except today.
This rather gives me the shivers. Especially followed, as it is, by Adolin’s argument that the kingdom cannot survive without Dalinar. Anyone else, but not Dalinar, with his visions and his leadership. Dalinar is correct in saying that the kingdom should be able to stand the loss of any one man, but Adolin is right when he points out that Alethkar is just not there yet. And Adolin, supported by Kaladin, wins the debate.
Commentary
First of all, greetings from Sasquan, the 73rd World Science Fiction Convention! I’m here, and if you’re here, please find me!! (I’ll be at Registration all morning, every morning… except I’m hoping to duck out early on Friday for the Writing Excuses podcast. I will also be at as many of Brandon’s events as I can swing.)
Now back to our regularly scheduled programming, which today involves some heavy-duty foreboding. There’s a perky bit at the beginning, when Adolin has made his decision not to worry about Dalinar’s “disconcerting behavior” during highstorms; since it’s all a package deal, and he’s already concluded that his father’s sanity is just fine, there’s really nothing else to do, and so he pragmatically moves past it.
From there, it goes steadily downhill. The worry about the assassin’s return is always hovering; the worry about Dalinar’s survival is stepped up by the emphasis on how much they need him; everything feels weird about Adolin’s departure to me, but to him it centers around the difference between riding his father’s Ryshadium and his own.
Gallant was a large black animal, bulkier and squatter than Sureblood, Adolin’s horse. Gallant looked like a warhorse even when compared to other Ryshadium. So far as Adolin knew, no man had ever ridden him but Dalinar. Ryshadium were finicky that way. It had taken a lengthy explanation from Dalinar to even get the horse to allow Adolin to hold the reins, let alone climb into the saddle.
It had eventually worked, but Adolin wouldn’t dare ride Gallant into battle; he was pretty sure the beast would throw him off and run away, looking to protect Dalinar. It did feel odd climbing on a horse that wasn’t Sureblood. He kept expecting Gallant to move differently than he did, turn his head at the wrong times. When Adolin patted his neck, the horse’s mane felt off to him in ways he couldn’t explain. He and his Ryshadium were more than simply rider and horse, and he found himself oddly melancholy to be out on a ride without Sureblood.
I’m… not even going to say any more about that. It makes me very sad.
Then things get even more ominous, as Eshonai pretty much repudiates everything she had said earlier to set up this meeting, and further states that it will be over when one side is dead, because they’ve just changed the rules. As Adolin tries to get more understanding of the situation, there’s this:
“King Gavilar,” Eshonai said, as if mulling over the name. “He should not have revealed his plans to us that night. Poor fool. He did not know. He bragged, thinking we would welcome the return of our gods.”
What was Gavilar planning? And how much did he unleash without their knowledge?
These are my burning questions, and I don’t know how many books we’ll have to wait to get the answers.
Perhaps most chilling of all, when Adolin finally reaches the warcamp after this abortive negotiation, Dalinar is well into a plan to assault the Parshendi—too well into it for this to be a new idea. He’s clearly been working on it for some time, and now that they have the negative response from Eshonai, he’s working out the details with his generals. There’s going to be a real war soon, and it’s going to put them out in the middle of the Shattered Plains just as the countdown finishes.
Stormwatch
Thirty-one days to go; this takes place on the day after the highstorm of the previous chapter.
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
Perhaps I should have held the quote about Sureblood and Gallant for this section, but it belonged up there. Here, I shall merely point out that the Ryshadium are definitely not mere horses. Aside from their stature, they’re connected with their riders in a way we clearly don’t understand yet. To quote Brandon (or paraphrase?), “Investiture is involved.” We just don’t know how.
Heraldic Symbolism
So here we stand with Chach and Ishar for a chapter that primarily involves Adolin and Dalinar. This combination was so frequent in TWoK that I was convinced Adolin would be a Dustbringer. For a more obvious association, though, once again Adolin is guarding his father and Dalinar is guiding his nation.
I’m not entirely sure what “Heirs” references; the word is not used in the chapter. On a guess, it may be Adolin as Dalinar’s heir (both literally, and in the sense of him taking Dalinar’s place in leading the Kholin armies) and Eshonai as being the heir of all that the Parshendi once were (in the worst possible way, now). Please discuss!
Words of Radiants
In short, if any presume Kazilah to be innocent, you must look at the facts and deny them in their entirety; to say that the Radiants were destitute of integrity for this execution of one their own, one who had obviously fraternized with the unwholesome elements, indicates the most slothful of reasoning; for the enemy’s baleful influence demanded vigilance on all occasions, of war and of peace.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 32, page 17
Well. That just raises a whole boatload of questions. Who was Kazilah? Who/what was he fraternizing with? Why did they execute him? How? We can only speculate, of course, but I find myself assuming that this is related to the “wicked thing of eminence” again.
With regard to things I didn’t address but should have… would someone go do all the research on Teleb and the Oldblood? There are several other worthy topics as well, but y’all will have to go read the chapter to dig them out. I’m wiped.
For what it’s worth, I won’t be joining in on the discussion until much later tonight; by the time this posts, I’ll be at my station over in the Convention Center, and the programming really picks up tomorrow. I hope I make it back in time to get some sleep…
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Also, SASQUAN!
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Adolin took Dalinar’s place to meet Eshonai and discuss her proposal, only to find it withdrawn and defiance in its place. This week, Shallan and Kaladin each improve their Radiant skills as they take steps toward their intermediate goals.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Kaladin, Shallan Setting: The Warcamps, the Shattered Plains Symbology: Spears, Jezrien, Shalash
IN WHICH Kaladin wanders the edge between the chasms and the warcamps, musing, then steps into the chasm; Shallan, disguised first as a messenger boy and then as a maid, infiltrates Amaram’s manor; Kaladin attempts to alternate between running on the floor and running on the wall, but realizes he needs to work on the basics first; Shallan finesses a couple of close encounters and makes it to Amaram’s secret room, which turns out to contain maps; Kaladin discovers that his body fears falling even when his mind knows it’s safe; Shallan can’t take time to make sense out of the maps and glyph-writing, so she takes Memories of everything, then begins to draw frantically; Kaladin continues cautiously until he accidentally avoids a puddle with a reflexive Lashing, and sees how to change his perceptions; Shallan exits the house disguised first as Amaram, then as the messenger boy, and in giving Amaram the message which was her first alibi, she discovers that the Blade he bears is the one which had belonged to her brother Helaran; Kaladin improves dramatically and finally throws himself at the sky, surrounded by windspren; Shallan confirms that the man from whom Amaram obtained his Shards was indeed her brother, who is now certainly dead; as Kaladin returns to earth, he is dissuaded by Syl from going after Amaram right away, but on arriving in his room, he finds Shen waiting to say goodbye.
Quote of the Week
“It’s like when I first picked up a spear,” Kaladin whispered. “I was just a child. Were you with me back then? All that time ago?”
“No,” Syl said, “and yes.”
“It can’t be both.”
“It can. I knew I needed to find you. And the winds knew you. They led me to you.”
“So everything I’ve done,” Kaladin said. “My skill with the spear, the way I fight. That’s not me. It’s you.”
“It’s us.”
“It’s cheating. Unearned.”
“Nonsense,” Syl said. “You practice every day.”
“I have an advantage.”
“The advantage of talent,” Syl said. “When the master musician first picks up an instrument and finds music in it that nobody else can, is that cheating? Is that art unearned, just because she is naturally more skilled? Or is it genius?”
…
“I’ll take it,” Kaladin said. “Whatever it is that gives me that edge. I’ll use it. I’ll need it to beat him.”
…
Kaladin nodded, light wind ruffling his jacket as he fell through the night. “Syl…” How to broach this? “I can’t fight him without a Shardblade.”
She looked the other way, squeezing her arms together, hugging herself. Such human gestures.
“I’ve avoided the training with the Blades that Zahel offers,” Kaladin continued. “It’s hard to justify. I need to learn how to use one of those weapons.”
“They’re evil,” she said in a small voice.
“Because they’re symbols of the knights’ broken oaths,” Kaladin said. “But where did they come from in the first place? How were they forged?”
Syl didn’t answer.
“Can a new one be forged? One that doesn’t bear the stain of broken promises?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She didn’t reply.
I know, I know. That’s way too long for QOTW. But it’s all so important! Not that it answers any questions for us, at this stage. Syl was with him back then, but she also kinda wasn’t. His skill with the spear is somehow a joint effect—which explains some things that happen later, perhaps. And she knows how a new Blade can be forged… she just can’t tell. ::sigh::
Commentary
This was a crazy chapter, as it alternates between short clips of Kaladin and Shallan on their different missions. Each is honing their Radiant skills, making use of them, working toward a specific goal. The juxtaposition was fascinating to follow, though.
Kaladin is just beginning to seriously practice his Windrunning, and this night is one of intentional training to confront Szeth when he returns. Shallan has obviously been practicing her Lightweaving, and can now prepare multiple disguises ahead of time, switching between them as needed; her goal, for tonight, is to infiltrate Amaram’s manor on behalf of the Ghostbloods—a mission that was assigned clear back in Chapter 43, which seems like years ago!
Kaladin works and works on the basics, until he finally does something different by instinct—and suddenly, it all comes clear, and the Lashings become natural. I find it highly amusing that the breakthrough comes when he instinctively avoids falling in a puddle again. There’s a glorious sense of thrill and triumph, as he finally, finally, really becomes a Windrunner. There’s a feeling that everything is going to come right, now, and that he and Syl are going to get this figured out. There’s such a joy in his new skill… and then it descends into anger and self-justification as he returns to earth, with his bitterness toward Amaram and shielding Moash. It turns foreboding, too, as Shen prepares to depart, gives Kaladin his real name of Rlain, and is clearly apprehensive about where he’s going. His statement, “The winds are not what I fear,” gives me the shudders.
Shallan, meanwhile, has her own series of successes, through much greater danger; her sequence of disguise and misdirection achieves the immediate goal of obtaining access to Amaram’s secret room, which is a triumph in itself, but she has to work very quickly to get everything in Memory, and then pull off another masquerade to cover her tracks and keep anyone from getting suspicious. There’s a feeling of elation, as she manipulates the cook into not mentioning her presence to Amaram and exits the manor. There’s a feeling of relief as she slips back into the messenger disguise and is in the right place for Amaram to find her. There’s a nice little resolution as she delivers her message about “her mistress” wanting to document Amaram’s Shards… and then it descends into horror and grief as she discovers that his Blade is the one once held by her beloved brother Helaran. Amaram’s blithe description of the “assassin” and his own “counterattack” which killed the young man is all too sickeningly vivid, and all her accomplishments of the night are buried in the sorrow of knowing that her brother is truly dead.
Parallel stories, indeed, and tied together at the end by Amaram’s role in each of their sufferings.
Stormwatch
This is the same day as the previous chapter, in which Adolin had the ill-fated meeting with Eshonai. Thirty-one days remain in the countdown.
Sprenspotting
The windspren! The windspren! I can’t wait to find out if the theory about windspren coming together to form Plate is correct… In any case, the behavior of the windspren here certainly foreshadows their behavior in the climax.
…Syl zipped along to his right.
And to his left? No, those were other windspren. He’d accumulated dozens of them, flying around him as ribbons of light. He could pick out Syl. He didn’t know how; she didn’t look different, but he could tell. Like you could pick a family member out of a crowd just by their walk.
Syl and her cousins twisted around him in a spiral of light, free and loose, but with a hint of coordination.
…
A hundred windspren broke around him, like the crash of a wave, spraying outward from Kaladin in a fan of light.
He grinned. Then he looked upward, toward the sky.
What is this “hint of coordination,” hmmm? Will they, or won’t they? I think they will.
Ars Arcanum
We already talked about this to some extent, but I want to look at a few more details. One thing that bugged me on my first reading only just became clear tonight—while washing dishes, of course. Shallan couldn’t take the time to actually study the maps and the glyphs, so she took Memories of them. Once finished with that, she slaps a piece of paper on the desk and starts drawing frantically—but she’d just thought that she’d do all the drawing when she was safely back in her rooms. Why was she drawing?
…Well, duh. She hadn’t planned to disguise herself as Amaram, so she needed to draw him in order to make sure the cook didn’t bring up any of this again, especially to Telesh. Not sure why it took me so long to figure that out!
Other than that, I enjoyed seeing the skills she’s been practicing: multiple disguises which she can switch off, combined with a few physical props that simply make it easier; working with Pattern to provide different voices when necessary; and of course Pattern’s ability to unlock things. Good stuff, and extremely useful!
About Kaladin’s practice, I can certainly see Kaladin doing things exactly the way he did, including “hopping onto and off the wall a couple hundred times.” If it were me, though, I’d practice it in my own room, leaning against a wall and just shifting the direction of “down” over and over. Standing on the floor, then lying on the wall, then standing on the floor… all without moving. But then, I’m lazy and my method wouldn’t be nearly as cinematic. And it wouldn’t provide the opportunity to fall out of a puddle. Heh.
Heraldic Symbolism
For once I feel safe in saying that these are totally obvious. Kaladin and Shallan are each actively practicing their Radiant skills, and so the Heralds associated with their Orders naturally watch over the chapter: Jezrien, for the Windrunner, and Shalash, for the Lightweaver. “Into the Sky” hardly needs clarification.
Words of Radiants
Now, as the Truthwatchers were esoteric in nature, their order being formed entirely of those who never spoke or wrote of what they did, in this lies frustration for those who would see their exceeding secrecy from the outside; they were not naturally inclined to explanation; and in the case of Corberon’s disagreements, their silence was not a sign of an exceeding abundance of disdain, but rather an exceeding abundance of tact.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 11, page 6
This is the only mention of the Truthwatchers in the entire book until we reach Chapter 89, where Renarin reveals himself as a Truthwatcher. (And yes, I still think his claim is valid.) When we first read this epigraph, then, we had no idea of what Truthwatchers might do, and this gave us no further clue. Basically, they didn’t tell anyone what they did? Helpful. I have to wonder, though: what good is it to see the future if you never tell anyone else what you see? Or did they, as an Order, pool their information, decide what needed to be done about it, and tell the other Orders whatever they felt was necessary?
In any case, Renarin seems set to change that secrecy, at least among the small circle of known Radiants.
Just Sayin’
Totally irrelevant to the origin of this unit, but it strikes me as the perfect placement. As much time as I spent with Team Sanderson last weekend, we spent oddly little time talking about the books. One question I did ask Brandon, though, was whether Ym was an Edgedancer. We both acknowledged that with the healing thing, he had to be either an Edgedancer or a Truthwatcher, of course. He pointed out that Ym’s spren doesn’t look at all like Wyndle, which I countered by saying that I thought the Ym’s spren manifested the way Wyndle would if you couldn’t see the Cognitive Realm. He just smiled… and said something like, “I’m going to RAFO that. You’re very wise, and I put the description in for a reason, but I’m going to RAFO for now.”
Which means… nothing, really. “You’re very wise” can very well mean, “That was good logic, and would make sense if that’s what I was doing, but I wasn’t.” It can also mean, “You figured it out, but I don’t want to confirm it just yet.” Or… something else. Anyway, it’s still a RAFO. I guess we’ll just have to watch for manifestations of Glys; maybe we can see what he looks like by comparison. I find that I’m hoping it doesn’t mean we’ll see Ym again, because the only way I see that happening is if Nalan is going around only-mostly-killing Radiants and then bringing them back to life… and that just doesn’t sound like a good thing at all.
Well. That was a long chapter, and I didn’t even get to the discussion of Amaram and the stormwarden glyph-writing, which is important in light of the past few weeks’ discussion. So we’ll hit that in the comments, which ought to keep us busy until next week, when Adolin returns to the dueling arena for more fun and games.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. She’s also still recovering from Sasquan. Oy. What a week!
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Kaladin and Shallan both progressed in their Surgebinding skill development, moving forward toward their respective goals, but for each of them, progress was tainted by Amaram’s greed for Shards. This week, Adolin returns to the dueling arena once again, to provide another memorable show for the spectators.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Adolin Setting: the Shattered Plains Dueling Arena Symbology: Duelist, Battar
IN WHICH Adolin duels Elit using a new technique, very precise and calculated; Elit’s Plate completely seizes up for lack of Stormlight to repair it, Adolin is pronounced the victor, and the crowd is annoyed—all of which pleases Adolin tremendously; Shallan comes to congratulate him, and Navani promptly leaves; Shallan and Adolin begin to make dinner plans, but are interrupted by the arrival of Relis in a foul temper; Adolin had expected this and finally goads Relis into a duel by offering all his family’s Shards against those of Relis and whoever he brings with him; it promises to be spectacular.
Quote of the Week
“Fight me!” Elit shouted from within his helm.
“I have.” Adolin replied quietly. “And I’ve won.”
Elit lurched forward. Adolin backed up. To the boos of the crowd, he waited until Elit locked up completely— his Plate out of Stormlight. The dozens of small cracks Adolin had put in the man’s armor had finally added up.
Then, Adolin strolled forward, placed a hand against Elit’s chest, and shoved him over. He crashed to the ground.
Adolin looked up at Brightlady Istow, highjudge.
“Judgment,” the highjudge said with a sigh, “again goes to Adolin Kholin. The victor. Elit Ruthar forfeits his Plate.”
Heh. Poor Istow. She keeps having to judge in Adolin’s favor, even when she doesn’t want to. (I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her, frankly.)
Commentary
Yet another fighting style from Adolin. The first duel was a beat-down, then second one he carefully kept very close, and in this one he deliberately wore down Elit’s Plate until it seized up. It’s hard to comprehend how anyone can keep insisting that he’s lost his edge.
Then again, I guess we know that he’s doing it all on purpose, but all they see is that he’s being inconsistent—except for that nasty habit of winning everything.
::snicker, snicker::
One thing I found very interesting, particularly in light of recent discussions, was Adolin’s self-control in this duel. Despite the emotional backdrop, he is absolutely controlled—and controlling—as he executes exactly the duel he had planned.
Ideal form. Each step in place. The Thrill rose within him, but he shoved it down. He was disgusted by the highprinces and their squabbling, but today he would not show them that fury. Instead, he’d show them perfection.
(Incidentally, that’s obviously the source of the chapter title.)
Adolin is frustrated, angry, disgusted, and generally cranky about both the Parshendi and the highprinces who oppose Dalinar, but instead of being controlled or driven by his emotions, he is calm, careful, serene, precise, quiet. (Yes, I got those all out of the text.) He planned exactly how he wanted it to go, and it went exactly as he planned. Because he’s just that good. And all that in spite of the fact that Elit was clearly trying to wound or kill him. Isn’t that sort of against the principles of dueling, by the way?
Elit growled audibly from within his helm, then came in with another thrust. Right at Adolin’s faceplate.
Trying to kill me, are you? Adolin thought, taking one hand from his Blade and raising it just under Elit’s oncoming Blade, letting it slide between his thumb and forefinger.
Elit’s Blade ground along Adolin’s hand as he lifted upward and to the right. It was a move that you could never perform without Plate— you’d end with your hand sliced in half if you tried that on a regular sword, worse if you tried it on a Shardblade.
With Plate, he easily guided the thrust up past his head, then swept in with his other hand, slamming his Blade against Elit’s side.
Sweet. Reminds me a little of Dalinar’s lastclap; these guys are amazing. It must run in the family.
Adolin’s gambit pays off, since Relis comes storming in with his gaggle of lighteyes, all threats and bristles, and finally allows himself to be goaded into a duel. I’m definitely bothered by the fact that Brightlady Istow comes with him; even though she’s busy assuring Relis that Adolin didn’t break any rules, the fact that she’s in his company seems wrong to me. I suppose it’s partly combined with her attitude toward his first win, and knowledge of how she’ll behave in the upcoming one, but storm it, judges are supposed to be impartial!
I’ll always wonder – did Relis catch on right away about the loophole left when Adolin didn’t specify a number? I’m pretty sure Istow noticed it; did the others realize it as well, or did she give them the idea?
Stormwatch
This is the day after Kaladin’s and Shallan’s respective level-ups in Surgebinding; there are thirty days left in The Countdown.
Cue the ominous musics.
Heraldic Symbolism
Battar presides alone over this chapter. Patron Herald of the Elsecallers, she represents the attributes of Wise/Careful, which I assume is the reason she’s here. She is represented positively by Adolin’s careful, precise, perfect execution of the duel… and negatively by his failure to think carefully through the wording he used in his challenge to Relis:
“If you’re afraid,” Adolin said, looking back to Relis, “you don’t have to duel me alone.”
Relis stopped in place. He looked back. “Are you saying you’ll take me on with anyone else at the same time?”
“I am,” Adolin said. “I’ll fight you and whomever you bring, together.”
“You are a fool,” Relis breathed.
…
Relis stormed out. The others trailed after. The highjudge lingered, regarding Adolin. “You realize what you have done.”
“I know the dueling conventions quite well. Yes. I’m aware.”
She sighed, but nodded, walking out.
Oh, Adolin, that one little slip is going to hurt badly. On the other hand, some good things come of it, so we’ll forgive you.
Words of Radiants
As to the other orders that were inferior in this visiting of the far realm of spren, the Elsecallers were prodigiously benevolent, allowing others as auxiliary to their visits and interactions; though they did never relinquish their place as prime liaisons with the great ones of the spren; and the Lightweavers and Willshapers both also had an affinity to the same, though neither were the true masters of that realm.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 6, page 2
I’ve always taken this as evidence that both Transportation and Transformation give a reasonable affinity to Shadesmar, so that a Willshaper would be able to access it roughly as well as Shallan does; the combination of the two Surges, unique to the Elsecallers, grants true mastery. (Well… after a certain amount of practice, anyway. Heh.) It’s interesting to note that historically, the Elsecallers were known to graciously transport others—Knights Radiant only, or others as well?—to Shadesmar with them. Why?
Shipping Wars
I must point out how cute these two are:
Shallan Davar burst in, wearing a violet dress, red hair flaring as she crossed the room. “That was incredible!”
“Shallan!” She wasn’t the person he’d been expecting— but he wasn’t unhappy to see her. “I checked your seat before the fight and you weren’t there.”
“I forgot to burn a prayer,” she said, “so I stopped to do so. I caught most of the fight, though.” She hesitated right before him, seeming awkward for a moment. Adolin shared that awkwardness. They had only been officially courting for little more than a week, but with the causal in place … what was their relationship?
Aww. They’re just so perfect. Perfectly awkward, in this case, which is totally endearing. (Except I have trouble with a redhead in a violet dress. That doesn’t quite work for me. But maybe that’s just me. Redheads in the crowd? Does violet work for you?)
Hey, y’all didn’t talk about the glyph-script Amaram was using last week. I started to, but then my electricity went out for three days due to a freak windstorm, and I had no internet. *sigh* Maybe I’ll throw it out there this week, if we need more discussion in the comments.
You. Have. Been. Warned.
So get into some discussion this week, and then join us again next week when Shallan tries her hand at gaining the confidence of the Ghostbloods. This should be rich.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Look for her involvement in the upcoming releases of Shadows of Self and Bands of Mourning… Well, really, forget her involvement. Just watch for those books and get them the minute they come out, because Brandon Sanderson is awesome and tells brilliant stories. That is all.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Adolin gave another memorable dueling performance, setting up something he hopes will be spectacular. This week, Shallan is forcibly reminded that when the stakes are high, there is often a high price to pay—and sometimes the innocent pay it.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Shallan Setting: the Unclaimed Hills Symbology: Pattern, Shalash, Ishar
IN WHICH Shallan walks through the rain in the Unclaimed Hills to meet with several members of the Ghostbloods; Mraize is surprised that “Tyn and Shallan” were able to enter Amaram’s house and is impressed by the pictures she provides; Shallan has carefully chosen which bits of information are actually revealed by the pictures, but inadvertently reveals that she can draw very accurately from memory; Mraize realizes that Shallan killed Tyn and is working on her own, and commends her for it; as she is dismissed, she realizes that in his parting words, Mraize has given the others tacit permission to try to kill her; in a slight panic, she creates an Illusion of a boulder and hides in it, while sending Pattern to use her voice to tell the carriage driver to return to the warcamp; hoofbeats follow and then return; Mraize speaks to an unidentified companion of various other persons interested in these matters; when her Illusion dissipates, she begins the long walk back to the warcamp while practicing accents with Pattern; their practice is disrupted by the discovery of her carriage burned, her coachman and his parshmen murdered; she continues her walk more somberly, pondering how she could have handled this so no one died.
Quote of the Week
“We will need to find how much he knows.” Mraize’s voice. “You will bring these pages to Master Thaidakar. We are close, but so—it appears—are Restares’s cronies.”
The response came in a rasping voice. Shallan couldn’t make it out.
“No, I’m not worried about that one. The old fool sows chaos, but does not reach for the power offered by opportunity. He hides in his insignificant city, listening to its songs, thinking he plays in world events. He has no idea. His is not the position of the hunter. This creature in Tukar, however, is different. I’m not convinced he is human. If he is, he’s certainly not of the local species.…”
Thaidakar, Restares, Taravangian… So far, Mraize seems to know more about all these subversive groups than anyone else, but Gavilar apparently knew something about a couple of them, at least. (Too bad he didn’t pass that information on.) And what about “this creature in Tukar,” while we’re at it? I’m guessing—only guessing—that he’s referring to “that god-priest of theirs, Tezim.” What creates the legend of a god-priest on Roshar? An Unmade? Someone holding an Honorblade? A Surgebinder/Proto-Radiant? A rogue Herald?
Commentary
The juxtaposition of this chapter with the previous hits me almost as hard as the interweaving of the Lightweaving/Windrunning chapter did a couple of weeks ago. Last week’s title of “Perfection” was both literal and ironic, as Adolin was perfectly in control of the duel, but (as we know to our dread) not so perfectly in control of his wording when he challenged Relis. This week, Shallan’s planning and presentation was nearly flawless, but the whole thing almost unraveled by a few thoughtless words.
I must also note that this week’s title, “Veil’s Lesson,” brings back memories of another Lesson, one in which people also woke up dead. This time, though, instead of criminals springing the trap Jasnah set for them and paying the ultimate price, the innocent driver and porters were killed by the trap Shallan accidentally dropped them into.
I had all sorts of snarky comments in my head about Shallan learning that she was out of her league; that when you play games with the Ghostbloods, the stakes are high; that if you’re not careful, the innocent pay the price on your behalf. Then it hit me: she learned those lessons a long time ago. This is indeed a grim reminder, and this time she has some knowledge of what the stakes are, but she’s been caught in this kind of game since she was a little girl… and the innocent always seem to pay the price. From Li’l Shallan nearly murdered for the beliefs of her mother and her “friends,” to the destruction of her own innocence in self-defense, to the burden of protection which drove her father into madness, to the servants maimed as an outlet for his anger at her… and all of it tangled up with Ghostbloods, Skybreakers, and possibly other subversive organizations or fanatic cults. No, high stakes and lives on the line are not a new experience for her. The difference is that this time, she’s deliberately taking an active role, and is therefore more directly to blame when the innocent are murdered. And she knows it.
Still, she did acquit herself well for the most part. I was impressed that she replaced all the writing with appropriate but uninformative wiggly lines, and that she only gave him a small chunk of actual text which might serve to get him talking. I was more impressed that she had her story worked out so that the reasons for the missing information was perfectly plausible. If only she hadn’t admitted that she could draw so well from memory; it was a slight, understandable, but deadly error.
Well, she was bound to make some mistakes. At least this one wasn’t life threatening. Probably.
Foreshadowing, much? Ouch.
Stormwatch
This is the same day as Chapter 53, and the reason Shallan had to refuse Adolin’s dinner invitation. Thirty days remain.
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
The general wild beauty of the surroundings form an idyllic backdrop to what turns out to be a vicious, deep, and twisty narrative. Shallan has so much fun, initially, enjoying a walk in the rain and observing the thirst-emboldened grass and the proliferating vines. She gives herself a little biology review as she strolls along, and compares the vegetation to what she’d be likely to find at home in Jah Keved. And then… the politicking starts, and we don’t get to enjoy the vines any more.
I love the way she describes (according to “Brightness Axeface”) and sketches a lady’s pace, including the angles of the feet—and then proceeds to draw Veil walking in a very different manner. As she would, of course. Interestingly, Shallan has a thought that I suspect may come into play again later:
It occurred to her that this person she became when she put on the hat and dark hair was not an imitation of someone else, not a different person. It was just a version of Shallan herself.
For some reason, I can’t help thinking along with her that this could be dangerous.
Aside from Shallan’s always-amazing artwork, and the clever use of the boulder she had put into the picture she drew for Mraize, there is another lovely little exchange I must point out:
“What I need to do,” Shallan said, “is train you to speak along with my images.”
“You should have them speak themselves,” Pattern said.
“Can I do that?”
“Why not?”
“Because… well, I use Light for the illusion, and so they create an imitation of light. Makes sense. I don’t use sound to make them, though.”
“This is a Surge,” Pattern said. “Sound is a part of it. Mmm… Cousins of one another. Very similar. It can be done.”
“How?”
“Mmmm. Somehow.”
“You’re very helpful.”
“I am glad…” He trailed off. “Lie?”
“Yup.”
Okay, I’ll admit it: I included the last five lines for the sheer fun of it. The earlier part, though, is the first clear indication we’ve had (unless you read the Ars Arcanum first) that Illumination uses more than just light to do its thing; control of this Surge confers the ability to manipulate other waveforms, too. So if she can figure out how to do it, she should be able to include sound in her Illusions. I’ll have to watch for this; right now, I can’t recall whether she succeeds in this book.
Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?
We’ve been given to understand that Mraize is Thaylen, but IIRC he’s also been confirmed as a world-hopper. This really makes me wonder about his involvement in Rosharan affairs. Has he returned because things started heating up? Did he trigger the heating? Or is he only tangentially interested in Roshar as it affects the Cosmere in general?
Speaking of world-hoppers, I have to confirm something that we discussed before: Iyatil, whoever she may be, is definitely not Khriss. I still don’t have any good guesses on who she is, but this much I know: Khriss is tall.
Heraldic Symbolism
The Heralds this week are Shalash and Ishar. Shalash is fairly obvious, with her connection to Shallan’s Lightweaving. What about Ishar? I can’t help thinking he’s there for Mraize, but whether as the Vorin ideals of pious/guiding, the opposite, or the “associated madness” I can’t even begin to guess. There is so much about Mraize and the Ghostbloods that we just don’t know… *sigh*
Words of Radiants
There came also sixteen of the order of Windrunners, and with them a considerable number of squires, and finding in that place the Skybreakers dividing the innocent from the guilty, there ensued a great debate.
–From Words of Radiance, chapter 28, page 3
Well. There seems to be some divisiveness among the Knights Radiant. Part of me really wants to know what the occasion was and what their various reasonings were, but I suspect this epigraph is mostly here to give us (a) hints of a conflict between orders; (b) Windrunners with squires; and (c) a peek into what the Skybreakers were all about. All three of those may well play critical roles in upcoming books.
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when Adolin and Shallan—with a reluctant Kaladin in tow—visit a menagerie for a change of pace. See you in the comments!
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Betas and gammas this year have been popping out all over; look for some spectacular books from Sanderson-wards in the near future! If you haven’t already acquired Elantris for your very own, it’s worth making sure you get the 10th Anniversary edition, too. It’s definitely new and improved.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Shallan came to a sobering realization about the gentle disposition of the Ghostbloods and her preparedness to interact with the organization. This week, things lighten up as her next date with Adolin goes unexpected places, and meets unexpected people.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Kaladin Setting: The Warcamps & Outer Market Symbology: Spears, Joker, Shalash
IN WHICH Kaladin sets himself to accompany Adolin and Shallan on their date, to Adolin’s exasperation; the carriage driver is—“You!” and Kaladin joins him cautiously; Wit and Kaladin trade smart remarks, in an exchange which Kaladin clearly loses; Wit drops a hint that he knows about Kaladin’s Surgebinding; as they arrive to pick up Shallan, Adolin discovers that the carriage driver is—“You!” and is suspicious; Shallan emerges and realizes that the extra man standing there is—“You!” and hugs him; Kaladin rides in the carriage with Adolin and Shallan, with a running internal monologue about the superficiality of lighteyes; Shallan gives Adolin the details of the dueling scheme she’s developed; it becomes clear that it might well work, but only because it’s such a lighteyed sort of game; they visit a menagerie in the Outer Market, where Shallan is fascinated, Adolin puzzled, and Kaladin bored; Kaladin admits to Syl that he’s almost ready; Dalinar arrives, and makes an announcement that sets Kaladin back to zero.
Quote of the Week
“It’s just a duel,” Kaladin said. “A game.”
“This would be different,” Adolin said.
“I don’t see why. Sure, you might win his Shards, but his title and authority would be the same.”
“It’s about perception,” Shallan said. “Sadeas has formed a coalition against the king. That implies he is stronger than the king. Losing to the king’s champion would deflate that.”
“But it’s all just games,” Kaladin said.
“Yes,” Adolin said— Kaladin hadn’t expected him to agree. “But it’s a game that Sadeas is playing. They are rules he’s accepted.”
Commentary
The chapter starts out on a rather sour note. Kaladin has decided to take Teft’s questions about Shallan seriously, and given the possibility that she could be an assassin, he’ll do the guarding himself. He is, however, extremely grumpy, and seems determined to take out his acid mood on Adolin. Lovely way to start a date.
Of course, everything goes a bit wonky when the carriage driver shows up. Heh.
This line really jumped out at me this time around: “Something just felt off about this Shallan Davar.” Adolin keeps saying exactly the same thing about Kaladin… which may well be one of the best reasons to suspect that he will become a KR of some description.
The central discussion, of course, is the scheme to get Sadeas into the dueling arena. Interestingly enough, when Shallan brings up the subject of the duel, Adolin assures her that it’s okay to talk about it in front of Kaladin; since he’s saved Adolin’s life twice and attends all the secret meetings, there’s no point in being coy. It’s also crystal clear that at this point, Adolin is expecting a two-on-one duel. He fully expects to win it, too.
It’s delicious (and deliberate) irony that the plan is actually a direct copy of something Sadeas did many years ago, but that it’s not something he can see coming, because the only set-up it needs is a spectacular win. It’s good to note that, although Shallan and Adolin fully believe it can work, and even convince Kaladin of the same, Shallan still insists that Navani and Dalinar need to examine the idea and approve it. As we’ll see later, they will do so—and neither of them caught the loophole in Adolin’s challenge either. But we’ll talk about that next week.
You know the worst part of this chapter? Things are starting to get better: Kaladin concludes that Shallan isn’t an assassin, the three of them almost behave like human beings to one another, Shallan has a great time sketching the menagerie, and Kaladin cheers up by thinking about flying. So much so, in fact, that he’s just about ready to (I think this is what they meant) tell Dalinar about becoming a Windrunner. Things are right on the brink of a big step up… and then at the very end of the chapter, Dalinar and Amaram show up and make an announcement that destroys it all.
Amaram, the wretch, doesn’t have a clue what the ancient oaths actually mean. Or if he does, he doesn’t care if he’s forsworn on the spot.
Stormwatch
This chapter takes place the day after the Elit duel and Shallan’s meeting with the Ghostbloods.
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
Quite the assortment of critters in today’s line-up!
Sarpenthyn—“little more than a lump of flesh with two bulbous eyes and four long tentacles.” Kaladin and Adolin both think it’s about the ugliest thing ever, but Shallan is wide-eyed and thrilled. She reaches in and grabs one of the tentacles to see if it’s warm or cold, and starts sketching, disgusted at the lack of scholarship when the identification plaque calls it “Devil rock captured in Marabethia. The locals claim it is the reborn vengeful spirit of a child who was murdered.”
Skyeels—Not a lot of information here, but we have all the sketches from TWoK for them.
“Some kind of chull-thing”—A rather uninformative grunt from Kaladin, who thinks it should be perfectly happy in its cage, where it’s at least safe from predators. Syl feels sorry for it.
The Colorful Chicken—presumably a parrot, it has “red, blue, and green feathers. She dug out colored pencils to do that sketch. Apparently, she’d missed a chance at sketching one of these a long time ago.” Nice little shout-out to the “Middlefest” flashback, the same day as the talk which earned Wit that enthusiastic and unexpected hug.
Whitespine—This one is the most interesting, all around. “The square face showed sharpened mandibles— like teeth, only somehow more vicious— and a pair of long, toothlike tusks that pointed down from the upper jaw. The stark spikes running from the head along the sinuous back, along with powerful legs, were clues as to what this beast was.” This particular specimen seems too small and apathetic to justify the stories, but both Kaladin and Adolin have seen what they can do to a human body, when in the wild. Shallan comments that “They don’t do well in captivity. This one probably would have gone dormant in crystal long ago, if it had been allowed. They must keep dousing it to wash away the shell.”
Someone who is more of a biologist than I am should talk about this. Just the concept sounds cool to me: something that goes dormant in crystal when it can’t move enough, but can be kept from doing so by dumping water on it.
And just because I can, I shall add another beast to this list:
Amaram—parading around in a bright yellow-gold cloak with the double eye of the Knights Radiant emblem in black on the back.
Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?
“You!”
Yep, Hoid is back in town, as annoying as ever. I found it highly amusing that for all the arguments about Kaladin being a better match for Shallan than Adolin because he’s more witty, he could barely figure out what Wit was saying half the time. Not that this stops Kaladin from sourly thinking that Adolin isn’t very good at cracking jokes to amuse his betrothed; humility is not one of Kaladin’s strong suits.
Hoid is just as fun as ever, or more so, but you have to go read the conversations to get the enjoyment. There’s no way I can adequately summarize it here! (Seriously, go read it again. Hoot.) However, there are a few details brought up in his exchanges that I want to highlight.
IIRC, we’ve had some other hints that Wit’s flute—which Kaladin forgot about when they left Sadeas’s bridge barracks—is perhaps more than an ordinary flute. Certainly, we have a WoB that Sadeas had it, and that Wit really wants it back. Where it is now… well, it could be in Urithiru, or it could be at the warcamps if it got left behind with unimportant stuff.
Wit drops a hint—and scares the living daylights out of Kaladin—that he knows about Kaladin’s Surgebinding. “I wouldn’t want you to go flying off on me.” Kaladin picks up the hint, obviously, but can’t figure out what to do with it. After a bit of verbal sparring, he asks what Wit wants of him; the answer sets up a scene several chapters downstream, where Kaladin tells him a story…
There’s also this lovely little tidbit:
“I’m a soldier, not a musician,” Kaladin said. “Besides, music is for women.”
“All people are musicians,” Wit countered. “The question is whether or not they share their songs. As for music being feminine, it’s interesting that the woman who wrote that treatise—the one you all practically worship in Alethkar—decided that all of the feminine tasks involve sitting around having fun while all the masculine ones involve finding someone to stick a spear in you. Telling, eh?”
First, I love the observation that “All people are musicians; the question is whether or not they share their songs.” That’s downright profound, it is. As for the tradition of men’s vs. women’s arts… while it’s possible that Wit is just yanking Kaladin’s chain for the fun of it, I think this is for real, at least within a range of interpretation. It’s at least a highly diverting interpretation, and quite possibly an insight into the past politics of Vorinism.
The second-best thing about this whole scene with Hoid is the way everyone looks at him and exclaims, “You!” Especially the first time you read it, it’s hilarious.
The first-best thing, though, is everyone’s reactions to Shallan’s reaction:
She suddenly started, eyes widening. She pointed at Wit with her freehand.
“You!” Shallan exclaimed.
“Yes, yes. People certainly are good at identifying me today. Perhaps I need to wear—”
Wit cut off as Shallan lunged at him. Kaladin dropped to the ground, reaching for his side knife, then hesitated as Shallan grabbed Wit in an embrace, her head against his chest, her eyes squeezed shut.
Kaladin took his hand off his knife, raising an eyebrow at Wit, who looked completely flabbergasted. He stood with his arms at his sides, as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
“I always wanted to say thank you,” Shallan whispered. “I never had a chance.”
Adolin cleared his throat. Finally, Shallan released Wit and looked at the prince.
“You hugged Wit,” Adolin said.
“Is that his name?” Shallan asked.
“One of them,” Wit said, apparently still unsettled. “There are too many to count, really. Granted, most of them are related to one form of curse or another. . . .”
“You hugged Wit,” Adolin said.
Shallan blushed. “Was that improper?”
“It’s not about propriety,” Adolin said. “It’s about common sense. Hugging him is like hugging a whitespine or, or a pile of nails or something. I mean it’s Wit. You’re not supposed to like him.”
I can never quite decide whether I think it’s funnier that Wit doesn’t know what to do, or that Adolin compares Shallan’s action to hugging a whitespine. Either way, that whole scene just delights me to the bottom of my socks.
Also:
“Hands off.”
“She’s far too young for me, child,” Wit said.
“That’s right,” Adolin said with a nod. “Stick to women your own age.”
Wit grinned. “Well, that might be a little harder. I think there’s only one of those around these parts, and she and I never did get along.”
Personally, I believe that to be an unmistakable reference to the holder of the Shard Cultivation.
Heraldic Symbolism
Another chapter where the Herald icons are fairly transparent: the Joker is always there when Wit plays a large role, and Shalash can variously be associated with Wit’s Lightweaving, Shallan’s Lightweaving, or Shallan herself.
Words of Radiants
The considerable abilities of the Skybreakers for making such amounted to an almost divine skill, for which no specific Surge or spren grants capacity, but however the order came to such an aptitude, the fact of it was real and acknowledged even by their rivals.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 28, page 3
This is from the same page as the Chapter 54 epigraph, and sounds very much like it could be the following sentence. I could be wrong, of course, but I take this to mean that the unique ability of the Skybreakers is the capacity to accurately determine guilt and innocence.
Shipping Wars
Okay, I laughed all the way through this chapter, with Shallan and Adolin all flirty and Kaladin all sour and cranky. I seem to remember thinking on my first read that Shallan was trying too hard again, and I kept expecting it to rebound on her. Luckily, subjects of real interest turn up before it gets too nauseating.
I don’t know if I thought this the first time through or not, but even worse than Shallan’s overplaying her role, Kaladin was being an absolute toad. Inwardly or outwardly, his antipathy toward lighteyes was way more annoying than Shallan’s somewhat obvious flirting. He’s so bad that not only does Syl accuse him of being so sour she can practically taste it, he even has to admit to himself that he
“wasn’t giving those two enough credit. They might ignore him, but they weren’t actively mean to him. They were happy and pleasant. Why did that annoy him so?”
I’m clearly starting to get paranoid and read too much into things these days, because that phrasing—“Why did that annoy him so?”—seems to carry hints. Hints of what, I don’t know for sure. Self-awareness? Attraction? Interference by Odium-spren? I shall choose to settle on the idea that Kaladin is finally starting to recognize his own unfair prejudice against others merely because they are lighteyes. That interpretation at least has the benefit of leading up to his choices in the upcoming chapters and his change in attitude toward Adolin, if not lighteyes in general.
Just Sayin’
Favorite line of the whole chapter:
If she was some kind of con woman, she wasn’t after Adolin’s life. Just his dignity.
Too late, Kaladin thought, watching Adolin sit back with a stupid grin on his face. That’s dead and burned already.
Aside from the way this makes me giggle like a teenager, I did note the phrase “dead and burned” as opposed to our “dead and buried.” On Roshar, or at least in Alethkar, if you weren’t important enough to be Soulcast into stone when you died, your body would be burned, not buried.
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when… when… when… Oh, my peeps, it’s coming. Next week: Whitespine Uncaged. The. Big. Duel.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. She’s also part of the facebook group “Storm Cellar—Brandon Sanderson Fans” which y’all are welcome to join for more generalized conversation.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, a date went in various unexpected directions. This week, Adolin goes forth to fight a duel that was supposed to be spectacular, but turns out to be a very different spectacle than he’d planned.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Kaladin, Adolin, Dalinar Setting: The Dueling Arena Symbology: Spears, Chach
IN WHICH the entire cast arrives at the dueling arena to watch the big event, with Amaram flaunting the Knight Radiant cloak; Syl pleads with Kaladin not to let Amaram ruin him; Moash is insubordinate. Adolin speaks briefly to his Blade, then joins Navani and Renarin; they discuss the terms of the match; he forgot Mother’s chain, but once arrayed in his Plate, Adolin walks out and awaits his opponents; there are FOUR of them. Dalinar is furious at the fast one Sadeas has pulled on them, but it’s all in the dueling conventions. Adolin agrees to the match, cursing himself for a fool; he hears Zahel’s voice giving him encouragement and advice; he moves to the attack, and it’s clear that all four opponents do indeed fear him; he fights incredibly well, but against four, he is soon bested; as they finally surround him, beating on his Plate and preventing him from signaling surrender, he realizes they intend to leave him dead or crippled. Dalinar asks to borrow Elhokar’s Blade, and Sadeas eggs him on; Elhokar shows unexpected insight in stopping him; Renarin steps into the arena. Relis makes it clear that Renarin will be killed if Adolin tries to surrender; the judge has clearly been Nobbled. She refuses to stop the fight; Renarin begins an epileptic seizure, while Adolin fights marvelously but hopelessly; Dalinar challenges the spectators to help, and turns to Amaram, who looks away like the rat he is; Kaladin takes a spear and jumps into the arena.
Quote of the Week
“They’re scared of you.” Zahel’s voice, drifting again above the crowd. “Do you see it in them? Show them why.”
Adolin hesitated. Relis stepped forward, making a Stonestance strike. Stonestance, to be immobile. Elit came in next, hammer held wardingly. They backed Adolin along the wall toward Abrobadar.
No. Adolin had demanded this duel. He had wanted it. He would not become a frightened rat.
Show them why.
Adolin attacked. He leaped forward, sweeping with a barrage of strikes at Relis. Elit jumped away with a curse as he did so. They were like men with spears prodding at a whitespine.
And this whitespine was not yet caged.
Every time I read it, this scene takes my breath away. As noted in the following paragraphs, it’s one against four, but it’s the four attracting the fearspren. If this were a duel without Shards, Adolin would have won; in the first few minutes Relis would have been dead and Elit maimed, with Adolin still untouched. But of course, they all have Plate, and so they recover. But it almost worked.
Also? The “Whitespine Uncaged” is totally, solely Adolin. There’s no one else in this fight. And he’s awesome.
Commentary
I was actually planning to break with tradition and do two chapters this week, because when I was rereading, I couldn’t stop at the end of the chapter. I figured I’d just do the whole fight at once, because everyone will talk about the whole fight anyway, right? Except I changed my mind. There is a lot in this chapter to deal with, so I’m going to request right up front that we try to hold off on discussing the events of the next chapter until we get there. Give this chapter its due.
To start with, let’s just get Kaladin’s issues out of the way. Every time he sees Amaram, he loses control, to the point that Sylphrena is begging Kaladin not to let Amaram ruin him. Juxtaposed against that unreasoning* antipathy, Moash lets slip that he’s met with Graves & Co. again, against Kaladin’s direct order, because he’s so confident that Kaladin will eventually agree that Elhokar ought to be removed. At this point, Kaladin is angry at Moash for that assumption, angrier that he disobeyed a direct order, disturbed by the implication that he just might refuse to obey further orders, and annoyed with himself for not having dealt with this already. I’m annoyed about that, too, because next time he considers the question, things will have changed. Considerably.
Sigh.
Back to Adolin. The conversation with Navani is unsettling in retrospect. Due to the terms of the duel—that it would go until surrender, rather than specifying a number of broken Plate sections—Navani can already see that they’re going to try to cripple Adolin… and in a few pages, that’s exactly what they attempt to do. When he realized that he forgot Mother’s chain, to my surprise that turned out to me more like a warning that something bigger was going to go wrong, rather than causing Adolin to be off balance. And four opponents was definitely “something bigger.”
I had completely forgotten that Brandon gives us the full explanation of the loophole here, with Sadeas’s tacit admission that he knew all about it, despite his claim to neutrality.
“Two?” Sadeas asked. “When was it said that he would fight two?”
“That’s what he said when he set up the duel!” Dalinar shouted. “Paired disadvantaged duel, two against one, as per the dueling conventions!”
“Actually,” Sadeas replied, “that is not what young Adolin agreed to. Why, I have it on very good authority that he told Prince Relis: ‘I’ll fight you and whomever you bring.’ I don’t hear a specification of a number in there— which subjects Adolin to a full disadvantaged duel, not a paired duel. Relis may bring as many as he wishes. I know several scribes who recorded Adolin’s precise words, and I hear the highjudge asked him specifically if he understood what he was doing, and he said that he did.”
It’s all “I heard” and “they say” but he knows too much about it. I’m convinced that he was involved in putting it together. He was probably the one who bought the judge, too. (Speaking of which, it seems apparent that she had the authority to call the duel any time she chose—for example, if she thought that one of the participants was in danger of injury beyond the bounds of appropriate dueling risk. Like what was happening here. She wasn’t required to stop it according to the conventions, but she could have. She didn’t.)
Back to Sadeas and his probable involvement, he digs in later with that whole “The Blackthorn I once knew” garbage, trying to inflame Dalinar to the point that he’ll just jump in and go for it. That was probably his goal all along. Which brings up one of the rare times Elhokar does anything to show that he has the makings of a king, however well buried he keeps such hints on a normal basis:
Elhokar caught him by the arm, standing. “Don’t be a fool, Uncle. Listen to him! Do you see what he’s doing? He obviously wants you to go down and fight.”
Dalinar turned to meet the king’s eyes. Pale green. Like his father’s.
“Uncle,” Elhokar said, grip tightening on his arm, “listen to me for once. Be a little paranoid. Why would Sadeas want you down there? It’s so that an ‘accident’ can occur! He wants you removed, Dalinar. I guarantee that if you step onto those sands, all four will attack you straight out. Shardblade or none, you’ll be dead before you get into stance.”
Dalinar puffed in and out. Elhokar was right. Storm him, but he was right.
This is one of those rare times that almost seem to justify Dalinar’s confidence in Elhokar’s ability to be a good king.
About the duel itself, it’s amazing. Four against one, and Adolin actually holds his own for a time. Once they manage to surround him, of course, it should be all over; he acknowledges it and tries to yield, and the cremlings refuse to allow that. They’re going to either kill or cripple him, and they’re all four—including his “friend” Jakamav—in on this. The judge is clearly not going to intervene until it’s just too late to prevent some “accidentally” crippling blow. And then Renarin steps in.
That boy. I’ve got nothing but admiration for him, no matter how he feels about his performance. A Blade that screams every time he summons it, no time to put his Plate on, but he walks out there to give whatever aid he can, even if it’s only to distract one of the “duelists” and give Adolin half a chance. I know there are a lot of people who find Renarin grating (including Shallan), but I have a lot of respect for him.
Of course, this brings up the moment of honesty from Relis, wherein he flatly states that this duel is not about honor. He’s out to punish Adolin—presumably for embarrassing his cousin?—and makes it quite clear that if Adolin doesn’t stay out here for the beatdown that will obviously end with him maimed or dead, Renarin will receive that fate instead. Coward. In spite of all his haughty words, he clearly knew that he couldn’t beat Adolin in a fair fight. He had to get two of the best duelists in the country to help him, even though he was supposed to be the dueling champion himself. (As backhanded compliments go, that’s a doozy!) He’s a coward and a bully, and I will love to see it rebound on his head next week.
As for Jakamav… As the old saying goes, with friends like that, who needs enemies? Better yet, the old rejoinder: with friends like that, who needs friends? Wimp. Political convenience overcomes conscience.
Finally, as Adolin’s Plate begins to lose pieces, leaving him vulnerable to the Blades, this:
Dalinar turned upon the stands full of spectating lighteyes. “You can watch this?” he shouted at them. “My sons fight alone! There are Shardbearers among you. Is there not one of you who will fight with them?”
He scanned the crowd. The king was looking at his feet. Amaram. What of Amaram? Dalinar found him seated near the king. Dalinar met the man’s eyes.
Amaram looked away.
Some “Knight Radiant” you are, dude. You couldn’t even begin to be a true Radiant.
It’s really set up so that there’s no good solution for the Kholins—it looks like at least one of them is going to die, no matter what they do, and even the king can’t stop it. Honor is dead.
* “Unreasoning” does not mean “unreasonable,” for the record. There’s plenty of reason for Kaladin’s attitude, but when he sees Amaram, he stops reasoning altogether.
Stormwatch
The day after the menagerie date. Twenty-eight days remain.
Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?
Well, of course we know who Zahel is, and we’ve met before. It’s not exactly a major issue, but until I can get to that Warbreaker reread, can anyone tell me how Zahel is making his voice audible to Adolin in the midst of all the shouting and clashing? I can’t remember. I love that he’s doing it, though, and that he’s trained Adolin well enough that with so few words, Adolin can sort out a whole new strategy in a matter of seconds. They’re afraid of you. Show them why.
Heraldic Symbolism
Chach watches over this chapter alone, and I can think of half a dozen reasons. I just wish I knew which was the right one. Kaladin is in his role as Guard. Adolin is also Guard, in one sense, as well as being Brave and (again in one sense) Obedient. Chach is so often associated with chapters which focus on Adolin, if it weren’t for that Edgedancer Blade I want him to restore, I’d still insist he’s destined to be a Dustbringer.
Words of Radiants
Twenty-three cohorts followed behind, that came from the contributions of the King of Makabakam, for though the bond between man and spren was at times inexplicable, the ability for bonded spren to manifest in our world rather than their own grew stronger through the course of the oaths given.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 35, page 9
Well, that’s a mouthful. I’m not entirely sure what the cohorts from the King of Makabakam have to do with anything, but there are two significant truths stated here: (1) the bond between man and spren is at times inexplicable; (2) bonded spren increase in their ability to manifest in the Physical Realm as the Knight-in-training progresses through their Ideals. The second is primarily a confirmation of what we already suspected. The first, though… the first is a 2×4 reminder that we really don’t have anything resembling solid knowledge about what triggers a bonding and what its development will necessarily look like for any of our budding Radiants.
Just Sayin’
In total, he had forty men on duty.
None of them would be worth a drop of rain if the Assassin in White attacked.
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when we’ll finish off this duel. You know, one way or another…
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. She’s also part of the facebook group “Storm Cellar—Brandon Sanderson Fans” which y’all are welcome to join for more generalized conversation.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, the spectacular duel Adolin anticipated turned into an unexpectedly menacing spectacle. This week, the spectators cheer the results of activities they can neither see nor hear, and get not one, but two unexpected endings. (Grrrr.)
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Shallan, Kaladin Setting: the Dueling Arena Symbology: Spears, Jezrien
IN WHICH a full disadvantaged duel is fought; a full disadvantaged duel is won; a full disadvantaged duel is wasted.
What, you want details? This time you really should read the chapter; trying to recap it is futile.
Oh, okay, I’ll give it a shot:
Kaladin comes to Adolin’s aid, and there are lots of nifty moves and cool Surgebinding, and Pattern comes out to play, and what with Adolin’s awesome fighting and Kaladin’s awesome Windrunning and a super-cool Lastclap, they win. Then Kaladin throws it all away.
Is that better?
Quote of the Week
He sped up, then lunged between two of the Shardbearers, ramming his spear into Relis’s cracked vambrace. The man let out a shout of pain and Kaladin pulled his spear back, twisting between the attackers and getting close to Adolin. The young man in blue armor glanced at him, then quickly turned to put his back toward Kaladin.
Kaladin put his own back toward Adolin, preventing either of them from being attacked from behind.
“What are you doing here, bridgeboy?” Adolin hissed from within his helmet.
“Playing one of the ten fools.”
Adolin grunted. “Welcome to the party.”
“I won’t be able to get through their armor,” Kaladin said. “You’ll need to crack it for me.” Nearby, Relis shook his arm, cursing. The tip of Kaladin’s spear had blood on it. Not much, unfortunately.
“Just keep one of them distracted from me,” Adolin said. “I can handle two.”
“I— All right.” It was probably the best plan.
“Keep an eye on my brother, if you can,” Adolin said. “If things go sour for these three, they might decide to use him as leverage against us.”
“Done,” Kaladin said, then pulled away and jumped to the side…
Yes, I know. Even with the Rule of Awesome in play, Suspension of Disbelief stretches mighty thin here. The idea that Relis, Elit, and Jakamav would be so surprised by Kaladin’s entrance that they’d just stop swinging for 15-20 seconds, allowing Adolin and Kaladin to have this little tete-a-tete (dos-a-dos?), is patently absurd. I love it anyway.
The thing is, for all their suspicions, dislikes, and grudging-respects of the past, for all Kaladin’s questions about trust on the way in, Adolin responds with instantaneous trust and cooperation. It gets me every time I read it, and I just toss my disbelief to the wind and enjoy it.
Commentary
What a crazy chapter. Nothing like rising to the heights and plunging to the depths all in one fell swoop, is there?
I have to laugh at Kaladin’s plan: assuming that he’ll be the one to take down their opponents, if Adolin can just crack their Plate open for him. Ummm… really? If he could do that on command, he’d already have won. The biggest thing in favor of Kaladin’s approach—at least if you’re trying not to cripple anyone during a war—is that if a weapon is going to get through their Plate, at least Kaladin’s would only cause normal damage. That’s a good thing…?
I would now proceed to laugh at Adolin’s arrogance in thinking that, even with all the damage to his own Plate, he can still handle two of the best duelists in Alethkar on his own… except that he actually can.
The prince fought desperately against his two opponents, swinging his Blade back and forth between the men on either side of him. And storms he was good. Kaladin had never seen this level of skill from Adolin on the practice grounds— nothing there had ever challenged him this much. Adolin moved between sweeps of his Blade, deflecting the Shardblade of the one in green, then warding away the one with the hammer.
He frequently came within inches of striking his opponents. Two-on-one against Adolin actually seemed an even match.
I find myself in the odd position of not caring in the slightest whether it’s realistic for a duelist to be so good he can actually hold off two opponents. I just love that it’s Adolin, the one who wanted nothing more than to be a duelist but refrained from dueling because of the Codes, the one who has trained and trained on the practice grounds and on the battlefield, the one who has no Surgebinding or Stormlight assists, the one who looks like a spoiled rich kid when he’s actually a highly disciplined soldier—it’s Adolin, assisted only by his own skill and stamina, who really can hold his own against two opponents.
If this had gone the way he planned, as a 2-on-1 duel, he’d have mopped the floor with them; it was only the fourth opponent who actually damaged his Plate in the previous chapter. Even now, having taken multiple hits so that his Plate is leaking Stormlight from nearly every piece, he manages to damage one opponent badly enough that Kaladin can “finish him off” (destroying his breastplate) with just a spear, batter another into yielding, and get a wrestling grip on the third just before his Plate locks up. (Snicker. Jakamav, this moment of ignominy couldn’t possibly happen to a more deserving guy jerk.)
Yup, our boys are amazing. Adolin is a stunning duelist, and Kaladin is a Stormlight-enhanced maniac. I suppose in a way you can’t blame Relis, the sneaking coward, for running off to “fight” Renarin. I can’t help thinking that dismissing his Blade was probably the best move Renarin could possibly have made here; even Relis hesitates to strike an unarmored and now unarmed man. That hesitation is just long enough to allow Kaladin to slide into place and do a Lastclap—and send both himself and Relis reeling from the screams of the trapped spren. (The foreshadowing… it hurts us, it does. Ow.)
And so we win! We win!
And once again, Kaladin blows it. Just like how many (?!) other times, he fails to think through the possible side effects, and causes terrible grief to his own side by his impulsive actions. All they went through in the last few minutes, all of Renarin’s imprudent bravery, all of Adolin’s beating, all of that Stormlight burned, and Kaladin can only see his opportunity to get his vengeance on his enemy, and he destroys their entire plan.
From the tension, to the awesome, to the victory… to the pits.
SANDERSOOOOOONNNNN!!!!!
Sprenspotting
Pattern and Sylphrena are the only spren we spot in this chapter, and their roles, while minute, are really fun. Right at the beginning, Shallan sends Pattern to see if he can somehow interfere with Abrobadar as he fights/toys with Renarin, while Syl assures Kaladin that this time will be very different from last time he came to the rescue of a lighteyes fighting a Shardbearer. The next time we see either of them,
On the other side of the arena, the fourth man—the one who had been “fighting” Renarin—was waving his sword at the ground for some reason. He looked up and saw how poorly things were going for his allies, then left Renarin and dashed across the arena floor.
“Wait,” Syl said. “What is that?” She zipped away toward Renarin…
This makes me giggle helplessly every time I read it. Abrobadar standing there waving his sword at a bumpy shape on the ground is enough in itself, but Syl going “Hey, wait a minute!” and zipping off to investigate a Cryptic… Maybe it’s just because in the middle of all this tension I need some comic relief, but it makes me laugh.
The other breathtaking moment with Syl comes a little later, when Kaladin finds himself unexpectedly fighting two full Shardbearers, trying to buy Adolin a little more time:
The wind began to blow around him. Syl returned to him, zipping through the air as a ribbon of light.
…
Wind. Motion. Kaladin fought two Shardbearers at once, knocking their Blades aside with the helm. He couldn’t attack—didn’t dare try to attack. He could only survive, and in this, the winds seemed to urge him.
Instinct . . . then something deeper . . . guided his steps. He danced between those Blades, cool air wrapping around him. And for a moment, he felt—impossibly—that he could have dodged just as well if his eyes had been closed.
The Shardbearers cursed, trying again and again. Kaladin heard the judge say something, but was too absorbed in the fight to pay attention. The crowd was growing louder. He leaped one attack, then stepped just to the side of another.
You could not kill the wind. You could not stop it. It was beyond the touch of men. It was infinite. . . .
Aaahhhhh! Fuel for the fires of windspren-make-Shardplate theories, though of course there’s not quite enough evidence to call it proof. It makes me wonder, though, whether the living version of Shardplate is any more… well, solid than a living Shardblade. In Dalinar’s “midnight essence” vision, the KR’s armor seemed extraordinarily mutable; is it possible that the real, living thing only ever looks like armor, but in reality is a constantly shifting, flexing, moving flow of thought?
(Also, did I just use “reality” in that question?)
Ars Arcanum
Windrunning FTW! For the first part of the fight, Kaladin seems to just hold the Stormlight rather than using it for Lashings or anything, but it seems to augment his natural skill (as I think we’ve noted before). Better balance, quicker responses, that sort of thing.
Falling on Relis’s back with a multiple lashing, though… that was outstanding. It did severe damage to his Plate, and put him out of the fight for ten heartbeats plus the time it took him to recover from the fall. All of which served its purpose: keep someone occupied so Adolin has a fighting chance.
Heraldic Symbolism
Jezrien, patron Herald of the Windrunners, is fairly obvious here. Need we say more?
Words of Radiants
Malchin was stymied, for though he was inferior to none in the arts of war, he was not suitable for the Lightweavers; he wished for his oaths to be elementary and straightforward, and yet their spren were liberal, as to our comprehension, in definitions pertaining to this matter; the process included speaking truths as an approach to a threshold of self-awareness that Malchin could never attain.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 12, page 12
This is an odd duck. Some people read this as Malchin having bonded to a Cryptic, but being unable to progress as a Lightweaver because of his inability to speak the further truths he would need in order to become as self-aware as the Cryptics demand. Others read it as someone who thought he could choose which Order he wanted to belong to, and being miffed by finding that the spren of that Order won’t take him because of his lack of self-awareness.
Thoughts? IMO, he doesn’t sound like much of a KR candidate anyway, but that’s probably just me being snooty tonight.
Just Sayin’
“What are you doing here, bridgeboy?”
“Playing one of the ten fools.”
Yes, indeedy. But it’s a good thing, all in all.
There are more things to discuss: Shallan’s self-flagellation for failing to see The Loophole; lots more about the actual fighting (what was your favorite moment?); Renarin; Brightlady Istow’s reluctance to call anything… Lots, lots more. Please join in! It’s been great to see all the new folk stepping in!
That ought to keep us busy until next week, when we have to deal with the aftermath of Kaladin’s interference.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. She’s also very tired…
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, a full disadvantaged duel was fought; a full disadvantaged duel was won; and a full disadvantaged duel was wasted. This week, the aftermath: a lot of shouting and unwarranted stubbornness.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Kaladin, Sadeas Setting: The Shattered Plains Symbology: Spears, Nalan
IN WHICH Dalinar and Elhokar argue about Kaladin; Kaladin says stupid things that prove he’s way out of his depth; he gets yelled at by Elhokar for it; Dalinar and Elhokar argue some more; Elhokar stomps out; Kaladin says more stupid things; he gets yelled at by Dalinar for it; Sadeas wigs out about the close call he just had, and begins making plans to get rid of Dalinar before Dalinar can get rid of him; Kaladin goes to prison and says yet more stupid things; Syl does not yell at him for it.
Quote of the Week
“You’re going to let the king put me in prison.”
“Yes,” Dalinar said, rising. “Elhokar has a temper. Once he cools down, I’ll get you free. For now, it might be best if you had some time to think.”
“They’ll have a tough time forcing me to go to prison,” Kaladin said softly.
“Have you even been listening?” Dalinar suddenly roared.
Kaladin sat back, eyes widening, as Dalinar leaned down, red-faced, taking Kaladin by the shoulders as if to shake him. “Have you not felt what is coming? Have you not seen how this kingdom squabbles? We don’t have time for this! We don’t have time for games! Stop being a child, and start being a soldier! You’ll go to prison, and you’ll go happily. That’s an order. Do you listen to orders anymore?”
“I…” Kaladin found himself stammering.
Dalinar stood up, rubbing his hands on his temples. “I thought we had Sadeas cornered, there. I thought maybe we’d be able to cut his feet out from under him and save this kingdom. Now I don’t know what to do.” He turned and walked to the door. “Thank you for saving my sons.”
Oh, blast it all anyway. If it weren’t for Kaladin stepping in, Adolin would never have survived this duel to challenge Sadeas. And if it weren’t for Kaladin stepping in, Sadeas could have been pinned down to an immediate duel. Dalinar is caught between gratitude and fury, and I certainly don’t blame him for giving Kaladin a well-deserved dressing-down.
Commentary
Well. For all I’ve come to the defense of both Kaladin and Elhokar many times in the past, today I’d dearly like to grab them each by an ear and smash their heads together. Really hard. Yes, I understand where each of them is coming from, but what a pair of tools!
Elhokar doesn’t seem to comprehend, even after all these years, that kingship is not about getting to be the biggest bully on the playground – it’s supposed to involve leadership, self-discipline, even self-sacrifice; whatever it takes to do what’s best for your country. He seems to think that because he’s king, he gets to tell everyone what to do ‘cause he da boss-man; everyone is supposed to bow to his every whim. He has no concept at all of putting the needs of his people ahead of his own impulsive desires.
Elhokar should not ever have let his temper control him so that he lost the opportunity to tie Sadeas down on the duel. As noted last week, he could have perfectly well ignored Kaladin (or told him to wait) while he dealt with Adolin’s boon first. But he didn’t, so now he’s threatening to execute the man who saved the lives of his cousins just moments earlier. There was a time when he was an unwitting tool for those who used him for their own advancement and wealth. That’s not quite as likely to happen anymore, but his current disposition isn’t much better: now he’s a tool for his own emotions, and he doesn’t even realize how stupid it is to make major decisions solely on the basis of how he feels about it at the moment.
Speaking of being “a tool for his own emotions”… Kaladin is just as bad. He did this amazing thing by using the powers he gains from his bond with Syl, and then threw it all away on a perceived opportunity to further his own personal grudge against Amaram. Tool.
While we all appreciate that Amaram is a scuzzbucket, a murderer, and a thief, Kaladin was incredibly egocentric in thinking that he had every right to expect the same reward as Adolin, and (worse) in forgetting that boons are granted, not demanded. I’m not sure, at the moment, whether he’s been so wrapped up in his own issues all along that he wasn’t paying attention, that he didn’t recognize the overriding importance of getting Sadeas off Dalinar’s back. It’s possible; he’s been focusing on protecting/leading the bridgemen, guarding the Kholin family members, and becoming a Windrunner. Maybe he wasn’t paying attention to what Dalinar was trying to accomplish, and subconsciously regarded it as lighteyed politics. That’s not much of an excuse, though; Syl has been going nuts about the red-eyed spren, and there’s the whole Assassin in White thing going down, to say nothing of the countdown scribbles. These are events of world-shaping import, and if he doesn’t realize the significance of removing a major threat to Dalinar’s ability to deal with them, he’s been paying attention to the wrong things.
*sigh* Yes, I understand why Kaladin did what he did. I even understand why Elhokar did what he did. But both of them were being extraordinarily short-sighted and self-centered, and they both bear the blame for ruining the plan. What’s really sick-making is that by all rights, given the loophole in the wording, Adolin shouldn’t even have survived to make the challenge; when he won, astonishingly, against all the odds… these two clowns threw it away.
I never thought I’d say this, but at the moment I’m more angry at Kaladin and Elhokar than I am at Sadeas and Amaram. S & A are foul and slimy by nature, so of course they do foul and slimy deeds, and justify them according to their respective foul and slimy ideologies. Kaladin and (at least in my head) Elhokar are supposed to be part of Team Light, but their combined selfishness just did a bang-up job of stabbing Dalinar in the back.
With friends like that, who needs enemies?
Stormwatch
Same day, obviously. There are twenty-eight short days left in the countdown, as Dalinar knows all too well – and as Elhokar and Kaladin also know, but seem to have somehow forgotten while they’re busy being petty.
Sprenspotting
The only spren in this chapter is a very subdued Sylphrena. Last time we saw her, she was spinning with joy as the judge awarded the day to Brightlord Adolin. In her one appearance today, she finally drifts into the room after Kaladin is locked in prison, and he appears to blame her for the events of the day. I can’t call it the beginning of their downward spiral, but it’s certainly a mile-post on the way to the nether regions.
Heraldic Symbolism
Nalan, Nalan. Judge. Herald of Justice. There seems to be a bad case of “poor judgement” going around.
Words of Radiants
So Melishi retired to his tent, and resolved to destroy the Voidbringers upon the next day, but that night did present a different stratagem, related to the unique abilities of the Bondsmiths; and being hurried, he could make no specific account of his process; it was related to the very nature of the Heralds and their divine duties, an attribute the Bondsmiths alone could address.
—From Words of Radiance, chapter 30, page 18
If Shallan and Jasnah are correct and the Parshendi themselves are the Voidbringers, this would be interpreted as Melishi figuring out a way to bring down an entire race. I begin to suspect that the real Voidbringers are instead those spren which place Listeners in the forms which enslave them to Odium. In that case, perhaps his connection to the Stormfather, combined with the way the Listeners need a highstorm to transform, gave him some way to control which spren could form bonds. Maybe? I’m sure there are a thousand theories. Let’s hear them!
Welp. Thus endeth Part Three: The grand finale of Adolin’s dueling spree has fizzled, and Kaladin is grumping in prison. On the bright side, next week we can leave Kaladin to his grumping while we dodge over to the other side of the continent to begin the third set of Interludes. Lift!
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Lately, she’s been enjoying a fine helping of schadenfreude pie as she watches the reactions to Shadows of Self scattered over facebook. Mwahahahahaha. Incidentally, according to a Sanderson tweet, the action of the Wax & Wayne books is set in the Cosmere timeline after SA5. Just in case you’re keeping track.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, everyone threw temper tantrums and Kaladin landed in prison. This week, we jaunt across the continent to Azir’s capital, where we’ll meet with an unexpected style of proto-Radiant. Warning: This chapter qualifies as a novelette all by itself, so the reread is both extra-long, and completely inadequate.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Lift Setting: The Bronze Palace, Azimir Symbology: Copia, Vedeledev, Nalan
IN WHICH Lift and her spren Wyndle enter the Bronze Palace through an upper window, and assist a small group of thieves to enter as well; while the others search for disposable goods, Lift sets off in search of food, followed by the awkward Gawx; he chooses to raid the viziers’ quarters, while she aims for the party food; she succeeds, but is followed and captured by Darkness and his henchmen; she escapes, but they have also captured Gawx and present him as hostage; she calls their bluff, but it wasn’t a bluff; she escapes, but returns to perform her first Regrowth to keep Gawx from dying; Darkness prepares to execute her, but Gawx, now named the new Aqasix, declares her pardoned of her thievery; Darkness departs.
Quote of the Week
“Why… why do you hunt me?”
“In the name of justice.”
“There are tons of people who do wrong things,” she said. She had to force out every word. Talking was hard. Thinking was hard. So tired. “You… you coulda hunted big crime bosses, murderers. You chose me instead. Why?”
“Others may be detestable, but they do not dabble in arts that could return Desolation to this world.” His words were so cold. “What you are must be stopped.”
There were plenty of bits in this chapter that I liked a whole lot more than this, but I had to use it. It doesn’t even have much to do with Lift… but it has everything to do with Nalan and what he’s doing. It’s worth noting that he doesn’t actually answer her question the first time; he merely gives his excuse: “In the name of justice.” Yes, he’s hunting “in the name of justice”—but he’s not hunting to serve justice. He’s hunting proto-Radiants, because he believes that what they do can bring the return of a Desolation. I could be wrong, but I think he really believes that.
Then again, I think he’s also quite, quite mad.
Commentary
Lift is just way too much fun… although I suspect that if I had to be around her for any length of time, my attitude would be much more like Wyndle’s long-suffering restraint. I mean, aside from calling him Voidbringer all the time purely to annoy him, this:
Stealing regular stuff was no fun. She wanted a real challenge. Over the last two years, she’d picked the most difficult places to enter. Then she’d snuck in.
And eaten their dinners.
Naturally. No point in stealing things you can sell and then buying food. Just steal the food in the first place. Oy.
Okay, she does have a point, actually; she breaks into rich people’s places because they have the best food, and then she eats their dinner—but it’s not like she’s taking anything irreplaceable, or even anything she has to worry about fencing carefully. Especially with the rich folk, she’s not even stealing anything they actually value.
Her interactions with Wyndle are generally hilarious—except that I keep getting irritated when she interrupts his lectures. She might not be interested in what he was going to say, but we are! We want to know how things work, but we just get hints, because she won’t let him finish a sentence. Silly girl. (Not that he was telling us anything we hadn’t already more or less figured out, but it was interesting to read his explanations nonetheless.)
After all that insouciance, it was unexpected to read something like this:
“Why did you even come with them?” Wyndle asked, creeping out of the room. “Why not just sneak in on your own?”
“Tigzikk found out about this whole election thing,” she said. “He told me tonight was a good night for sneaking. I owed it to him. Besides, I wanted to be here in case he got into trouble. I might need to help.”
“Why bother?”
Why indeed? “Someone has to care,” she said, starting down the hallway. “Too few people care, these days.”
And this sequence, which in one way seems so out of character, and in another way perfectly in character:
Lift safely reached the upper reaches of the palace, hidden in the shadows there. She squatted down, hands around her knees, feeling cold.
“You barely knew him,” Wyndle said. “Yet you mourn.”
She nodded.
“You’ve seen much death,” Wyndle said. “I know it. Aren’t you accustomed to it?”
She shook her head.
…
Who would cry for Gawx? Nobody. He’d be forgotten, abandoned.
…
“Why do you care?” Wyndle asked again. He sounded curious. Not a challenge. An attempt to understand.
“Because someone has to.”
…
She set Gawx on his back, face toward the sky. He wasn’t really anything to her, that was true. They’d barely just met, and he’d been a fool. She’d told him to go back.
“Goodness is irrelevant,” Darkness said. His Shardblade dropped into his fingers.
“You don’t even care, do you?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t.”
“You should,” she said, exhausted. “You should… should try it, I mean. I wanted to be like you, once. Didn’t work out. Wasn’t… even like being alive…”
Despite whatever her back-story might be—and it sounds horrific—she chose to care. She’s an Edgedancer by nature, I guess.
Also? I really, really want that back story. What is with Rall Elorim, anyway?
In other news, Azir has a most interesting way of choosing a new leader at the best of times. Everyone who’s interested fills out a bunch of paperwork and writes an essay, and the viziers choose the best one. At this worst of times, it’s downright bizarre, with everyone who “ought” to be a candidate doing their level best to be a lousy one. Gawx does have a fair point, though: it beats the bloody-succession-war method. Ironic, then, that he is chosen — as a result of being the only person to bleed.
Stormwatch
The timeline isn’t specific on this one; it just says, “Before the Weeping,” which means it’s roughly concurrent, give or take a few weeks, with the main plot events.
Sprenspotting
Wyndle! Wyndle cracks me up. What a mismatch in personality between spren and human! Due to other recent thoughts on the subject, I specifically noticed his reactions to Lift’s continual references to him as “Voidbringer.” Aside from generally being offended (which is only natural) the tone of his objections really fits with the concept that the Voidbringers are a type of spren, rather than a race of physical beings.
Despite his claim to have holes in his memory due to the Realmatic transition, there’s a boatload of good information in Wyndle’s words. Just a few points:
• He did not choose his bond-mate; she was chosen for him by “the Ring,” presumably a group made up of the Edgedancer-bonding spren. Whether by agreement or because it’s not possible to disagree, he accepts the assignment.
• Lift was chosen because she had “visited the Old Magic” and “Our mother has blessed her.” This has so many possible implications, the most prominent being that Lift went to see the Nightwatcher and (corollary) the Nightwatcher is closely tied to Cultivation. This could be wrong, of course, but it does seem reasonable.
• It seems that Lift’s “boon” was the ability to gain Investiture directly from food… or was it the ability to see and touch things that are only in the Cognitive Realm? Or was it both? That would be unusual, wouldn’t it, to have two gifts from the Nightwatcher? And what was the curse? Or… is one the boon and one the curse? In which case… which is which?!
• In the Cognitive Realm, Wyndle appears like a vine which grows very quickly in whatever direction he wants to go, and sometimes forms a face through which he speaks to Lift. In the Physical Realm, the vine-trail he leaves behind hardens as if briefly becoming solid crystal, which people sometimes see—which sounds to me very like what Ym sees. As noted a few weeks back, Brandon will neither confirm nor deny this theory. (Here’s one case where I’m in disagreement with what I perceive as “most of the fandom”—I think Ym was a proto-Edgedancer, but most seem to think he was a Truthwatcher. Brandon almost promised that we’ll find out… or at least, that we’ll eventually find out for sure what kind of spren creates the effect Ym’s spren did. I suspect we’ll get it from someone who sees either Glys or Wyndle in the Physical Realm.)
• In the Cognitive Realm, he was apparently a master gardener, since “Cryptics and honorspren alike came to see the crystals I grew from the minds of your world.” The minor point is that, despite the political issues which make Cryptics and honorspren tend to not get along well (is that because they’re opposite each other on the circle of Surges/Orders?), they all admired his work. The major weirdity is the thought of growing crystals in the Cognitive world from the minds of those in the Physical world. How does that even work? (I’m afraid my mind just knocked all his pretty crystals down, flailing about to make sense of this.) Also: would the Edgedancer-spren be known as Gardeners, or is that just Wyndle? He notes that his choice of human would have been “an accomplished gardener” Iriali grandmother; again, is that his personal preference, or are all of his “type” gardeners of one sort or another? If they are, I’m betting that their non-sentient counterpart would be lifespren—which would also make sense for Edgedancers.
All Creatures Shelled and Feathered
The poor little larkin… I’m curious as to whether its forlorn appearance is due to its captivity in general—wings bound, and stuffed in a bag—or to the fact that they seem to have a means of preventing it from taking in Stormlight except when they want it to. Is it basically starving all the time, so that when it finds a source of Investiture, it will instinctively suck it all in no matter the consequences to anyone else? Or… How intelligent are these creatures, anyway?
Ars Arcanum
So this is what an Edgedancer does—superslides, supergrowth, and superhealing. Well, this one, anyway… “Darkness” implies that she’s barely an amateur compared to the skills they once displayed, but with no one except a spren with holes in his memory to train her, I think that can be forgiven.
“Abrasion” (friction) is seen mostly in its absence; Lift makes herself frictionless to move quickly and to escape clutching hands. I can’t help wondering if there might be a connection between her climbing the walls with Wyndle forming hand- and foot-holds for her, and using friction to make herself “sticky” instead of “slick”… but we’re not given anything. In fact, Wyndle is seriously puzzled by her ability to touch him and actually use the grips he provides, so it doesn’t seem likely that the Edgedancers of old did anything quite like this.
“Progression” seems to be a relatively new skill, according to Wyndle’s lecture, but it certainly works well! I know a lot of people find it irritating that Lift should be able to make the seeds grow without knowing what to do, and even more so that she can heal Gawx with Regrowth. I have a few theories, though for anyone determined to be annoyed they won’t be enough. One is that some forms of Investiture seem to be more intuitive than others in this grand Cosmere, and Roshar seems a place where that’s the case. Another is that since Cultivation is still alive, and Progression is definitely Cultivation-linked, it may be even more intuitive than some Surges. A third is that with her odd connection to the Cognitive Realm, Lift has a unique ability to just know what to do. Your thoughts on the subject?
Oh, one more thing:
I will remember those who have been forgotten.
I notice that the Coppermind wiki identifies this as the second Ideal of the Edgedancers, but I’m questioning that, myself. Given how much she can already do at the beginning of the Interlude, it seems at least equally probable that this would be the third Ideal, and we just don’t yet know what the second one was. Anyone have a WoB stating that Lift has only said two of the Ideals? Because in lieu of that, I hold to the idea that this is more likely the third.
Heraldic Symbolism
Vedeledev = Edgedancers and Nalan = Nalan. Need we say more?
Just Sayin’
Lift uses “stormin’” a few times, but her favorite cuss-word seems to be “starvin’.” Suitable, for a street waif who needs food not only for survival and the inevitable teen growth spurts, but who needs extra food because she turns too much of it straight into Investiture.
“Kadasixes and Stars!”—a very Azish turn of phrase; Kadasix apparently translates as Herald.
Y’all can have a nice debate over whether “May he lead in wisdom. If he ever stops drooling” refers to “Yaezir, Herald of Kings” or “Gawx, Aqasix of Azir.”
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when we join Szeth for some contemplation atop Urithiru. Well, this should be cheerful.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. If she seems strangely absent from the comments this week, it might have something to do with the rumor that Bands of Mourning is going into gamma-reading this week.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Lift and Wyndle led us into discussions of Edgedancers, the Cognitive Realm, murder, and justice. This week, we join Szeth atop the highest tower in the world to contemplate the End of All Things—or the end of all his former assumptions, anyway.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Szeth Setting: Urithiru Symbology: Assassin, Vedeledev
IN WHICH Szeth sits on the top of Urithiru and contemplates the things he has done; having fought someone who held and used Stormlight, he faces the possibility that the past eight years have been based on a lie; he departs Urithiru, falling toward a place he hopes to find answers.
Quote of the Week
“What does it mean if the Shamanate are wrong? What does it mean if they banished me in error?”
It meant the End of All Things. The end of truth. It would mean that nothing made sense, and that his oath was meaningless.
It would mean he had killed for no reason.
Well. Not so sure about that “end of truth, nothing makes sense” part, frankly, in my opinion, it never made sense to send someone out with an Honorblade and orders to implicitly obey anyone who picks up his Oathstone. Seriously, people? I mean, what could possibly go wrong?
But that last? Yeah, it means that. For. No. Reason.
Commentary
Every now and then, I do feel a little bit sorry for Szeth. I mean, he was trying so hard to obey the rules no matter what the cost. But then… I think about the cost, and I don’t feel sorry for him anymore. Yes, the cost was high—but he’s not the one who paid it. And frankly, this makes me want to kick him:
The screamers deserved their deaths, of course. They should have killed Szeth.
This, and thoughts like this, which we’ve seen before and will again, when we’re in his head. Even as he murders more and more people, he seems to increasingly think of himself as the victim. “Oh, poor me. All those people I murdered scream at me every time I close my eyes. Poor, poor me. Life’s really hard when you can’t close your eyes.” Gah. Self-identification as Victim makes me want to hurl.
On a lighter note (for a few minutes), this short interlude gives us a truckload of hints and snippets of information. This is our first actual glimpse of Urithiru, a hundred terraced stories high, with that odd, flat, windowed, eastern wall. Whatever it may once have been, and whatever it will become, at this point Szeth seems to be the only person who knows exactly where it is and has the capability to get there.
However, given that he considers it “the only place in the East where the stones were not cursed, where walking on them was allowed,” it seems probable that the Stone Shamans know of it. It’s even possible that they know exactly where it is, I suppose, and that he found it based on existing maps. This train of thought brings a whole series of questions about the Stone Shamans, though. Do they train with the Honorblades? Are there traditionally one or more individuals among them who practice the Surgebinding that comes with the eight Honorblades they’ve been “protecting” for the last few millennia? Have they had them that whole time? If not, when did they acquire them? Which one do they not have, besides Taln’s? Who does have that one? In the later Interlude, is Taravangian telling the truth about another Blade going missing, or is that something he made up on the spot to distract Szeth? And does Szeth have the Honorblade because he was named Truthless, or had he already been “gifted” it for life, or…? Why did he have it? So many questions.
But we at least learned here, clearly(ish) stated for the first time, that the “crime” for which Szeth was named Truthless was a claim that either the Voidbringers or the Radiants (or both, or one implying the other) were returning. The Stone Shamans insisted that it was a false alarm, that the Voidbringers are no more, the powers of old (Surgebinding via spren?) are no more, the Knights Radiant are fallen, the Stone Shamans are all that remain. Which is… manifestly false. Did they know it was false? Were they deceiving themselves? Did they really believe Surgebinding was gone forever? Did they know the truth, but perpetrated a lie to maintain control? I hope we get some answers eventually. For now, we know that they were committed to a set of beliefs that were flat-out wrong.
It reminds me of an odd discussion I had this summer about the nature of reality. From my perspective, reality just is. We may perceive reality differently, depending on our basic assumptions, and we may attribute observable phenomena to different causes depending on those assumptions, and in some cases our perceptions and attributions vary rather dramatically. My argument was that our beliefs may be correct or incorrect, but reality is immutable. We each have a responsibility to decide what to believe, and we each have a right to our own beliefs, but those beliefs don’t change reality itself. The argument of my friend was that our perceptions determine reality, so that we each have a reality all our own; her example was that for George over there who is colorblind, certain colors don’t exist in his reality. My counter to that was that George’s inability to perceive red and green as distinct colors doesn’t make them any less a part of reality.
(The funny part is that the debate began with her insistence that no intelligent person could possibly believe a cosmology different than what she believed, because Science. Since I consider myself reasonably intelligent but hold to a very different cosmology, I pointed out that both views rest on a set of assumptions, and a scientist in particular should at least acknowledge that there are unprovable assumptions involved. She didn’t want to admit that all theories of origins have to make some assumptions, and next thing I knew, “reality” was being redefined. Not quite sure how “Science Irrefutably Proves This” suddenly became “Reality Is Defined By Perception” but… oh well.)
Anyway… Back to Roshar. There was Szeth, thinking that the Stone Shamans knew the truth, and believing that when they named him Truthless for saying something else, they must have been right, so off he went to obey the rules for being Truthless. Then he met up with Kaladin, who clearly could do at least some of the stuff that was supposed to be impossible in this day and age… and suddenly his perception ran head-on into the brick wall of reality. Suddenly the all-knowing Stone Shamans turned out to be completely wrong, meaning that despite all their declarations, he was not, in fact, Truthless… and there was no justification for the rules he followed after all.
Okay, I can feel sorry for him.
But what kind of special irrationality does it take?—to give someone an Honorblade which not only can’t be beaten, but also bestows Surgebinding skills on the holder… and then send him out with a rock in his hand, bound to give the rock to anyone that wants it, and then to obey whatever orders they choose to give him—good, bad, or indifferent. That’s just stupid irresponsible nonsense.
Szeth did the deeds, and he is guilty no matter whose rules he was following. But IMO, the Stone Shamans are every bit as guilty as Szeth, since they gave him the power to do those deeds. Likewise guilty are the masters he’s obeyed, because they used the tool at hand to commit evil deeds. Perception be damned; the reality is that a whole host of people were murdered with no justification whatsoever.
Stormwatch
This interlude takes place somewhere along the line of the past two Rosharan weeks, or roughly during the timespan of Part Three.
Heraldic Symbolism
Vedeledev watches over this chapter alone, and I have to admit that I’m slightly baffled by her presence. Why is the Healer, patron Herald of the Edgedancers, associated with this hot mess?
Just Sayin’
“Glories within.” On a guess, this is a Shin idiom; no one else seems to say it, anyway. It certainly serves as a reminder that there’s a whole raft of stuff we really don’t know about the people, culture, and religion of Shinovar.
Now we can try to figure out what charges a prosecutor would bring against Szeth, how on earth a defense attorney could possibly make a case for him, how the jury would rule, and what sentence the judge would be likely to hand down. Or… not. It’s up to you where the comments roll this week! Next week, we’ll look in on Eshonai and the new rhythms she’s attuning these days. This also will be an uncheerful episode, methinks. For now, I’ll see you in the comments!
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. For one more day, she will be holed up in her gamma cave, nitpicking away to help minimize distractions in the awesome story that is The Bands of Mourning. Y’all, seriously: Tremendous story.
During his recent Shadows of Self tour, Brandon Sanderson read an in-progress excerpt from the third Stormlight Archive book, and we’re pleased to share it with you now! If you missed Brandon on tour this time, be sure to keep an eye out for future events—who knows what extra goodies await us all!
The excerpt below is from the beginning of the book’s first flashback chapter, when Dalinar is a young man. It contains no spoilers for either The Way of Kings or Words of Radiance, so dive right in!
Rockbuds crunched like skulls beneath Dalinar’s boots as he charged across the burning field. His elites tromped behind him, a handpicked force of soldiers both lighteyed and dark. They weren’t an honor guard. Dalinar didn’t need guards. These were simply the men he considered competent enough not to embarrass him.
Around him, rockbuds smoldered. Moss—dried from the summer heat and long days between storms this time of year—flared up in waves, setting the rockbud shells themselves aflame. Dalinar charged through the smoke, trusting in his padded armor and thick boots to protect him. Flamespren, like tiny people made of fire, danced from one burning patch to the next.
The enemy—pressed by his armies from the north—had pulled back into this town just ahead. Dalinar had held himself back, with difficulty, from entering that initial clash. He’d known the real fighting would take place in the town.
He hadn’t expected the enemy to—in a desperate move—fire this plain, burning their own crops to block the southern approach. Well, no matter. The fires could go to Damnation for all Dalinar cared. He led his men in a charge, and though some were overwhelmed by the smoke or heat, most stayed with him. They’d crash into the enemy from the south, pressing them between his men and the main army.
Hammer and anvil. His favorite kind of tactic: the type that didn’t allow his enemies to get away from him.
As Dalinar burst from the smoky air, he found a few lines of spearmen hastily making ranks on the southern edge of the town. There were remnants of a wall, but that had been torn down in a contest a few years back. Dalinar had forgotten the town’s name, but the location was ideal. A large ridge to the east made a natural break from the storms and had allowed this place to sprawl, almost like a real city.
Dalinar screamed at the enemy soldiers, beating his sword—just a regular longsword—against his shield. He wore a sturdy breastplate and helm along with iron-lined boots. The spearmen ahead of him wavered as his elites roared from the smoke and flame, shouting a bloodthirsty cacophony.
A few of the spearmen dropped weapons and ran. Fearspren, gobs of violet goo, wriggled up en masse around the enemy rank. Dalinar grinned. He didn’t need Shards to intimidate.
He hit the spearmen like a boulder rolling through a grove of saplings, swinging his sword and sending limbs into the air. A good fight was about momentum. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Drive forward and convince your enemies that they’re as good as dead already. That way, they’ll fight you less as you send them to their pyres.
As he waded among them, the spearmen thrust spears frantically—less to try to kill him, more to try to push away this madman. Their ranks collapsed, and many of the men turned their flanks to Dalinar’s men, focused only on him.
Dalinar laughed, slamming aside a pair of spears with his shield, then disemboweling one man with a sword deep in the gut. The man dropped his spear in panic, trying to grab at his entrails, and his allies backed away at the horrific sight. So Dalinar came in swinging, catching the two off balance, killing them with a sword that bore their friend’s blood.
Dalinar’s elites decimated the now-broken line, and the real slaughter began. Dalinar pushed forward, keeping momentum, shearing through the ranks until he reached the back, breathing deeply and wiping ashen sweat from his face. A young spearman fell before him, crying, screaming for his mother as he crawled across the stony ground, trailing blood. Fearspren mixed with orange, sinewy painspren all around.
Dalinar shook his head, picking up a fallen spear and striding past the youth, slamming it down into the boy’s heart as he passed. Men often cried for parents as they died. Didn’t matter how old they were. He’d seen greybeards do it, same as kids like this one. He’s not much younger than I, Dalinar thought. Maybe seventeen. But then, Dalinar had never felt young, regardless of his age.
His elites filled in behind him, having carved the enemy line in two. Dalinar danced, shaking off his bloodied blade, feeling alert, excited, but not yet alive. Where was it?
Come on…
A larger group of soldiers hiked down the street toward him, led by several officers in white and red. Dalinar could see from the way they pulled up, alarmed, that they hadn’t expected their spearmen to fall so quickly.
Dalinar charged. His elites knew to watch, so he was followed by a force of fifty or sixty—the rest had to finish off the unfortunate spearman ranks. Fifty would do. The crowded confines of the town would mean Dalinar shouldn’t need more.
As he neared this newer force, he focused his attention on the one man riding a horse. The fellow wore plate armor obviously meant to re-create Shardplate, though it only of common steel. It lacked the beauty, the power, of true Plate. He still looked like he was the most important person around. Hopefully that would mean he was the best.
The man’s honor guard rushed to engage, and Dalinar felt something stir inside him. Like a thirst, a physical need.
Challenge. He needed a challenge, storm it!
He engaged the first member of the guard, attacking with a swift brutality. Fighting on the battlefield wasn’t like in the dueling arena; Dalinar didn’t dance around the fellow, testing his abilities. Out here, that sort of thing got you stabbed in the back by someone else. Instead, Dalinar slammed his sword down against the enemy, who raised his shield to block. Dalinar hit in a series of quick, powerful strokes, like a drummer pounding out a furious beat. Bam, bam, bam, bam!
The enemy soldier didn’t have an opportunity to mount a counterattack. He clutched his shield over his head, putting Dalinar squarely in control. Dalinar kept hitting as he raised his own shield before him and shoved it against the man, forcing him back until he stumbled. The man’s shield shifted, letting Dalinar’s sword come down at an angle and bite him in the upper arm.
The shield dropped completely. This man didn’t get a chance to cry for his mother.
Dalinar let his elites handle the others; the way was open to the brightlord. Not old enough to be the highprince. Some other important lighteyes? Or…didn’t Dalinar remember something about a son mentioned during Gavilar’s endless planning meetings? Well, this man certainly looked grand on that white mare, watching the battle from within his helm, cape streaming around him.
Dalinar pulled up, swiping his sword eagerly, breathing in and out. The foe raised his sword to his helm in a sign of challenge accepted.
Idiot.
Dalinar raised his shield arm and pointed, counting on at least one of his strikers to have lived and stayed with him. Indeed, Jenin stepped up, unhooked the short bow from his back and—as the brightlord shouted his surprise—shot the horse in the chest.
“Hate shooting horses,” Jenin grumbled as the beast reared in pain. “Like throwing a thousand broams into the storming ocean, Brightlord.”
“I’ll buy you two when we finish this,” Dalinar said as the brightlord fell backward, tumbling off his horse. Dalinar dodged forward around flashing hooves and snorts of pain, seeking out the fallen man. He was pleased to find the enemy rising.
Dalinar came in swinging. The brightlord managed to get his sword up, but Dalinar batted it away, then dropped his own shield completely and came in with a two-handed power swing, intending to knock the lighteyed soldier back down. Fortunately, the man was good enough to recover his stance and intercept the blow with his shield.
They probably heard the subsequent crack all the way in Kholinar. Indeed, it vibrated up Dalinar’s arms.
Momentum. Life was about momentum. Pick a direction and don’t let anything—man or storm—turn you aside. Dalinar battered at the brightlord, driving him backward, furious and persistent. The man withstood it admirably, and managed a surprise feint that caught Dalinar off guard. It let the man get in close to ram Dalinar with his shield.
Dalinar ducked the blow that followed, but the backhand hit him solidly on the side of the head, sending him stumbling. His helm twisted, metal bent by the blow biting into his scalp, drawing blood. He saw double, his vision swimming.
The brightlord, smartly, came in for the kill. Dalinar swung his blade up in a lurching, full-shouldered blow, slapping the brightlord’s weapon out of his hands.
In turn, the brightlord punched Dalinar in the face with a gauntlet—and Dalinar’s nose crunched.
Dalinar fell to his knees, his vision blurry, sword slipping from his fingers. His foe was breathing deeply, cursing between breaths, winded by the short—frantic—contest. He fished at his belt for a knife.
An emotion stirred inside of Dalinar. A fire that filled the pit within. It washed through him and awakened him, bringing clarity. The sounds of his elites fighting the brightlord’s honor guard faded, metal on metal becoming clinks, grunts becoming like a distant humming.
Dalinar grinned. Then the grin became a toothy smile. His vision returned as the brightlord—who had just retrieved his knife—looked up and started, stumbling back. He seemed horrified.
Dalinar roared, spitting blood and throwing himself at the enemy. The swing that came for him seemed pitiful and Dalinar ducked it, throwing his shoulder against his foe and shoving him backward. Something thrummed inside of Dalinar, the pulse of the battle, the rhythm of killing and dying.
The Thrill.
He knocked his opponent off balance, then reached for his sword. Dym, however, hollered his name and tossed him a polearm, with a hook on one side and a broad thin axe on the other. Dalinar seized it from the air and spun, ducking the brightlord’s swing. At the same time, he hooked the man around the ankle with the axehead, then yanked.
The brightlord fell in a clatter of steel. Before Dalinar could attack further, unfortunately, the honor guard became a bother. Two had managed to extricate themselves from Dalinar’s men, and came to the defense of their brightlord.
Dalinar caught their sword strikes on his polearm and twisted it around, backing away and slamming the axehead into one man’s side. Dalinar ripped it free and spun again—smashing the weapon down on the rising brightlord’s head and sending him to his knees—before coming back and barely catching the remaining guard’s sword on the haft of the polearm.
Dalinar pushed upward, holding the polearm in two hands, sweeping the guard’s blade into the air over his head. He stepped forward until he was face to face with the fellow. He could feel the man’s breath.
Dalinar spat blood from his shattered nose into the guard’s eyes, then kicked him in the stomach. He turned toward the brightlord, who had scrambled—again—to his feet and now was trying to flee. Dalinar growled, full of the Thrill, and swung the polearm in one hand, hooking the spike into the brightlord’s side, and yanked, dropping him a third time.
The brightlord rolled. He was greeted by the sight of Dalinar slamming his polearm down with two hands, driving the spike right through his breastplate and into his chest. It made a satisfying crunch, and Dalinar pulled it out bloodied.
The blow seemed a signal of sorts, and the honor guard and other soldiers finally broke before his elites. Dalinar grinned as he watched them go, gloryspren popping up around him like glowing, golden spheres. Damnation, it felt good to best a force larger than your own.
The Thrill, unfortunately, dwindled. He could never seem to hold on to it as long as he wanted. Nearby, the man he’d felled groaned softly. Dalinar stepped over, curious, kicking at the armored chest.
“Why…” the man said from within his helm. “Why us?”
“Don’t know,” Dalinar said, tossing the polearm back to Dym.
“You… You don’t know?” the dying man said.
“My brother chooses,” Dalinar said. “I just go where he points me.” He gestured toward the dying man, and Dym rammed a sword into the hole in the breastplate, finishing the job. The fellow had fought reasonably well; no need to extend his suffering.
Another soldier approached, handing Dalinar his sword. It had a chip in it the size of a thumb right in the blade. Looked like it had bent as well.
“You’re supposed to stick it into the squishy parts, Brightlord,” Dym said, “not pound it against the hard parts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dalinar said, tossing the sword aside as one of his men selected a replacement from among the fallen of high enough rank to have one.
“You…all right, Brightlord?” Dym asked.
“Never been better,” Dalinar said, then sucked blood up through his broken nose. Hurt like Damnation itself.
His men formed up around him, and Dalinar led the way further down the street. Before too long, he could make out the bulk of the enemy still fighting up ahead, harried by his army.
He halted his men, contemplative.
Thakka, captain of the elites, turned to him. “Orders, sir?”
“Raid those buildings,” Dalinar said, pointing at a line of homes. “Let’s see how well they fight while they see us rounding up their families.”
“The men will want to loot,” Thakka said.
“What is there to loot in a hovel like this?” Dalinar said with a shrug. “Soggy hogshide and old rockbud bowls?” He pulled off his helm to wipe the blood from his face. “They can loot afterward. Right now I need hostages. There are civilians somewhere in this storming town. Find them.”
Thakka nodded, shouting the orders. Dalinar reached for some water. He’d need to meet up with Sadeas, and—
Something slammed into Dalinar’s shoulder. He caught only a brief sight of it, a black blur that hit with the force of a roundhouse kick. It threw him down, and pain flared up from his side.
“An arrow?” he said, blinking as he found himself lying on the ground. A storming arrow sprouted from his right shoulder, with a long, thick shaft. It had gone right through the chain.
“Brightlord!” Thakka said, kneeling, shielding Dalinar with his body. “Kelek! Brightlord, are you—”
“Who in Damnation shot that?” Dalinar demanded.
“Up there,” one of his men said, pointing at the ridge above the town.
“That’s got to be over three hundred yards,” Dalinar said, shoving Thakka aside and standing. “That can’t—”
He was watching, so he was able to jump out of the way of the next arrow, which dropped a mere foot from him, slamming against the stone ground. Dalinar stared at it, then started shouting. “Horses! Where are the storming horses!” Had the fires delayed them?
No, fortunately. A small group of soldiers had guided them more carefully across the fields, but had caught up by now. They came trotting forward as Dalinar’s order was passed, bringing all eleven horses. Dalinar had to dodge another arrow as he seized the reigns of Fullnight, his black gelding, and heaved himself up into the saddle.
He galloped back the way they’d come in, trailed by ten of his best men. There had to be a way up that slope… There! A rocky set of switchbacks, shallow enough that he didn’t mind running Fullnight up them. Dalinar was more worried that by the time he reached the top, his quarry would have escaped.
He eventually burst onto the top of the ridge; an arrow slammed into his left shoulder, going straight through the breastplate, and nearly throwing him from the saddle.
Damnation! He hung on somehow, clenching the reins in one hand, and leaned low, watching ahead as the archer—still a distant figure—stood upon a rocky knob and launched another arrow. And another. Storms, the fellow was quick!
Dalinar jerked Fullnight to one side, then the other, feeling the thrumming sense of the Thrill return, driving away the pain. Hooves made a clatter on stone as another arrow zipped past his face, dangerously close. Ahead, the archer finally seemed to grow alarmed, and leaped from his perch to flee.
Dalinar charged Fullnight over that knob a moment later, jumping the horse after the fleeing archer, who turned out to be a man in his twenties wearing rugged clothing. Dalinar had the option to run him down, but instead galloped Fullnight right past and kicked the archer in the back, sending him sprawling. Dalinar pulled up his horse, then turned it about to pass by the groaning archer, who lay in a heap amid spilled black arrows.
Dalinar’s men caught up as he climbed roughly from the saddle, an arrow sprouting from each shoulder. He seized the archer, who had finally struggled to his feet and was scrambling—dazed—for his belt knife.
Dalinar turned the fellow about, noting the blue tattoo on his cheek. The archer gasped and stared at Dalinar, covered in soot from the fires, his face a mask of blood from the nose and the cut scalp, stuck with not one but two arrows.
“You waited until my helm was off,” Dalinar demanded. “You are an assassin. You were set here specifically to watch for me.”
The man winced as Dalinar gripped him hard—an action that caused pain to flare up Dalinar’s side. The man nodded.
“Amazing,” Dalinar said, letting go of the fellow. “Show me that shot again. How far is that, Thakka? I’m right, aren’t I? Over three hundred yards?”
“Almost four,” Thakka said. “But with a height advantage.”
“Still,” Dalinar said, stepping up to the lip of the ridge. He looked back at the befuddled archer. “Well? Grab your bow!”
“My…bow,” the archer said.
“Are you deaf, man?” Dalinar snapped. “Get it!”
The archer regarded the ten armed elites on horseback, grim-faced and dangerous, before wisely deciding to obey. He picked up his bow and a few arrows, then stepped hesitantly over to Dalinar, giving one glance to the similar shafts that were stuck into him.
“Went right through my storming armor,” Dalinar muttered, shading his eyes. To his right, the armies clashed down below, and his main body of elites had come up to press at the flank. The rearguard had found some civilians and was shoving them into the street.
“Pick a corpse,” Dalinar said, pointing toward an empty square where a skirmish had happened. “Stick an arrow in one, if you can.”
The archer licked his lips, still seeming confused. Finally he took a spyglass off his belt and studied the area. “The one in blue, near the overturned cart.”
Dalinar squinted, then nodded. Nearby, Thakka had climbed off his horse and had slid out his sword, resting it on his shoulder. A not-so-subtle warning. The archer contemplated this, then drew his bow and launched a single black-fletched arrow. It flew true, sticking into the chosen corpse.
“Stormfather,” Dalinar said, lowering his hand. “Thakka, before today, I’d have bet you half the princedom that such a shot wasn’t possible.” He turned to the archer. “What’s your name, assassin?”
The man raised his chin, but didn’t reply.
“Well, either way, welcome to my elites,” Dalinar said. “Someone get the fellow a horse.”
“What?” the archer said. “I tried to kill you!”
“Yes, from a distance,” Dalinar said, letting one of his men help him up onto his horse. “Which shows remarkably good judgment, since the ones I get close to tend to end up very dead. I can make good use of someone with your skills.”
“We’re enemies!”
Dalinar nodded toward the town below, where the beleaguered enemy army was—at long last—surrendering. “Not anymore. Looks like we’re all allies now!”
* * *
For the full tour experience, you can watch Brandon read the Dalinar chapter excerpt during his recent appearance at Google!
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, Szeth sat on top of Urithiru, feeling sorry for himself and working himself up to go find better answers. This week, Eshonai reveals more of the difference in her character after her transformation to Stormform; as expected, this is not a cheerful event.
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Eshonai Setting: Narak Symbology: Listener, Kalak, Ishar
IN WHICH stormform Eshonai meets with the Five plus Venli to discuss the plan she has developed for fighting the humans—to get everyone possible into stormform; she lies and manipulates them to gain some cooperation; Venli is still keeping secrets; Eshonai circumvents the Five, announcing the immediate implementation of her plan; the sisters go out to the practice grounds, where Eshonai again announces her plan, requiring each soldier to choose immediately whether or not to join her in stormform; once the few who refuse the transformation are identified, she sends her soldiers to do the same among the civilians; all those who refuse are gathered with those few soldiers on the practice ground; Eshonai attunes her new Rhythms to block out any hints of self-awareness; when her old lieutenant indicates discomfort with the proceedings, she puts him and her former division in charge of the dissenters, knowing that she will have all of them executed once she’s got most of the people in stormform; she returns to the city, prepared to tell her people a concoction of lies to keep them in line; while she waits for the people to gather and settle for her speech, she is informed that the dissenters have escaped into the chasms; despite Venli and her spite, Eshonai shrugs them off as essentially dead already, since they cannot possibly get far enough away via the chasms before the next highstorm hits.
Quote of the Week
“Our people must take that form, Eshonai,” Venli said. “It is inevitable.”
Eshonai found herself attuning the new version of Amusement… Ridicule, it was. She turned to her sister. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew exactly what this form would do to me. You knew this before you took the form yourself.”
“I… Yes.”
Eshonai grabbed her sister by the front of her robe, then yanked her forward, holding her tightly. With Shardplate it was easy, though Venli resisted more than she should have been able to, and a small spark of red lightning ran across the woman’s arms and face. Eshonai was not accustomed to such strength from her scholar of a sister.
“You could have destroyed us,” Eshonai said. “What if this form had done something terrible?”
Screaming. In her head. Venli smiled.
“How did you discover this?” Eshonai asked. “It didn’t come from the songs. There is more.”
Venli did not speak. She met Eshonai’s eyes and hummed to Confidence. “We must make certain the Five agree to this plan,” she said. “If we are to survive, and if we are to defeat the humans, we must be in this form—all of us. We must summon that storm. It has been … waiting, Eshonai. Waiting and building.”
The new Eshonai makes me sad; I liked the old Eshonai, the one who is still screaming in her own mind, and I still hope she will somehow return. Venli, on the other hand… I never liked or trusted the old Venli, and the new one is even worse. She tacitly admits that she’s still keeping secrets.
I can’t help thinking that the only thing worse than these two and their spiteful semi-cooperation would be these two truly working together as a team. ::shudder::
Commentary
This chapter makes me melancholy. It’s so hard to watch Eshonai under the control of the stormspren, and it’s made worse by the ways in which she almost recognizes the differences. Between her own voice screaming at her from the Rhythm of Peace, the differences in the Rhythms she can hear, and the repeatedly slippery recognitions of behavior that is not quite natural, it’s pretty clear that there’s still something of the old Eshonai buried in there, and that the new Eshonai is being controlled by another entity.
The big question I have now, though, is whether that buried Eshonai is being clever—if desperate—in a few things. Specifically, did she deliberately put her “former friends” in charge of the dissidents, a group which includes her own mother, knowing that they would figure out what she was going to do to them and that they would attempt to escape? She shrugs off their departure just a shade too easily, and Venli accuses her of doing something deliberately, though even super-sneak Venli doesn’t seem to know quite what it might be. Earlier, Eshonai almost acknowledged something weird about the way she didn’t choose her own squad for the first group to transform; later, she consciously thinks that it was nice of Thude to make it so easy to get rid of him and the rest of her old squad. Combining this with the knowledge that the last we see of her in this book is as she’s falling into the chasms herself, I have to wonder. Did old-Eshonai, buried deep within, subtly manipulate new-Eshonai into setting up the dissidents to escape rather than be executed? And will that one little nudge end up being the thing that saves her life and her soul? I can hope…
Nonetheless, it’s deeply uncomfortable to be in her head as she displays impatience and contempt for so many of the people that she’s spent all these years leading and protecting. This new arrogance is revolting after the careful, humble stewardship we saw earlier.
I’m not going to recount every episode that caught my attention on the way through here, but I have to point out a few things. The “new rhythms” that give the chapter its title are creepy:
Buried within those new rhythms, the names of which she intuited somehow, she could almost hear voices speaking to her. Advising her. If her people had received such guidance over the centuries, they surely would not have fallen so far.
Ick.
There’s also the way those new rhythms make other people nervous. Is that simply because the rhythms are unfamiliar, because the others can’t hear the Rhythm she’s using? Or is there something in the rhythms themselves that causes uneasiness in those not (yet) attuned to the Voidbringer spren? It would be an interesting exercise to make a list of all the old and new Rhythms, and see how many direct correspondences there are, of the sort Eshonai makes between Amusement and “the new version of Amusement… Ridicule, it was.” Are all the new ones all a bitter twist on the old ones?
There are also repeated mentions of the red eyes, which she and Venli both have. During the meeting of the Five, Abronai whispers to himself, “Red eyes. Have we come to this?” Later, Eshonai thinks that her old friends will have to be executed, because she’d instilled in them too much fear of the old gods; they don’t trust her because of her red eyes. (Wise folk, these…)
Tied to that, I had to notice the number of times she can’t quite explain her own actions, and as noted above, I grasp at straws of hope that the old Eshonai can still be recovered.
Stormwatch
This Interlude actually jumps forward in time just a little; it takes place on the same day as the upcoming Chapter 60, six days after the last few chapters of Part Three.
Sprenspotting
Oh, the spren, the spren, the spren. What is the “cometlike” spren Eshonai keeps trying to chase away? Is it possibly the spren that was displaced when she took stormform? It certainly seems to be connected to her former self, anyway. Is it part of the screaming? And is it in any way similar to the way dead Shardblades scream when touched by a Radiant?
Then there are the stormspren. Thousands and thousands of them. Why are there suddenly so many of them around for Venli to collect? Were they always there, or are they now being sent? If the latter, by whom? Questions, questions. They also seem to have an… interesting effect on the local windspren:
Today’s clear sky rained down white sunlight, and a few windspren approached on a breeze. They stopped when they grew near, then zipped away in the opposite direction.
Best guess, windspren are too closely related to Honor-spren to be comfortable approaching Odium-influenced spren. Thoughts?
Heraldic Symbolism
I have to think that the Heralds on this interlude reflect the very twisted versions of their attributes presented by Eshonai and Venli. Kalak, the Maker, with his divine attributes of Resolute and Builder, is inversely reflected in Eshonai’s resolute direction of her people; she’s building them, all right, but building them into the antithesis of everything they’ve believed for centuries. Ishar, the Priest, with his attributes of Pious and Guiding, is reflected in Venli’s careful collection of the spren of their old gods, guiding the Listeners back to the Voidbringers they once served.
There. That ought to keep us busy until next week, when we dive into Part Four with bitter, gloomy Kaladin. Things just keep getting cheerier and cheerier up in here.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. She is still moderately astonished every time another best-seller hits the shelves and she finds her name in the acknowledgements; that’s just bizarre. Fun, though.
Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, we saw Stormform Eshonai sorting her people into stormform-wannabees and everyone else, leaving us to wonder whether the real Eshonai was somehow trying to protect the remnant. This week, we rejoin Kaladin in his cell for story-time with Wit. Bafflement ahoy!
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Point of View: Kaladin Setting: Kholin warcamp prison Symbology: Spears, Nalan, Joker
IN WHICH Kaladin complains about his too-nice prison cell; he hears a lot of unintelligible shouting down the hall; he considers trying to draw Stormlight from the lamp outside his cell; he also considers the possibility of breaking out; he argues with Syl about Dalinar, Elhokar, and Syl’s statement that it would be different this time; Wit makes snarky remarks from a bench outside the cell; Kaladin is surly about it; Wit begins playing his strange musical instrument, asking Kaladin what he sees; Kaladin finally responds, and Wit builds the story of Fleet around Kaladin’s responses; the interpretation is unclear; Wit leaves.
Quote of the Week
“Dalinar can go rot. He let this happen.”
“He tried to—”
“He let it happen!” Kaladin snapped, turning and slamming his hands against the bars. Another storming cage. He was right back where he’d begun! “He’s the same as the others,” Kaladin growled.
Syl zipped over to him, coming to rest between the bars, hands on hips. “Say that again.”
“He…” Kaladin turned away. Lying to her was hard. “All right, fine. He’s not. But the king is. Admit it, Syl. Elhokar is a terrible king. At first he lauded me for trying to protect him. Now, at the snap of his fingers, he’s willing to execute me. He’s a child.”
“Kaladin, you’re scaring me.”
“Am I? You told me to trust you, Syl. When I jumped down into the arena, you said this time things would be different. How is this different?”
She looked away, seeming suddenly very small.
“Even Dalinar admitted that the king had made a big mistake in letting Sadeas wiggle out of the challenge,” Kaladin said. “Moash and his friends are right. This kingdom would be better off without Elhokar.”
Syl dropped to the floor, head bowed.
It’s impossible, now, not to see the beginnings of the broken bond in this argument. ::sniffle::
Also: Kaladin, if things aren’t any different this time, it’s your own storming fault. Quit blaming everyone else—especially Syl—for the results of your impetuous behavior. Sure, Elhokar did something stupid. But you did something stupid first, setting up the situation. Stop playing I’m Just A Victim Here, and admit your own culpability.
Question: Why doesn’t Syl point this out to him? Does she not see it? Or is she not allowed?
Commentary
Thus begins Part Four: The Approach. While the title may have many other implications, the most transparent is that this entire Part is leading up to the march on Narak and the Everstorm. The last chapter in Part Four includes the final bit of decision-making, and the first chapter in Part Five is the staging of the combined armies.
For now, though… here sits Kaladin, sulking in his cell, convinced that everything is someone else’s fault—the lighteyes, the king, the spren, anyone but himself. He’s a bitter, bitter man right now, and that bitterness is already beginning to work its way out in all manner of downward-spiraling ways. It’s not only making him miserable, it’s making Syl miserable, and it’s eating away at their bond. He’s letting it interfere with the truths he knows about Dalinar, and blocking his ability to see new truth as it is presented. I’m actually surprised that Wit managed to get through to him at all, in this state. I guess there’s something to be said for a captive audience.
(Okay, groan. Yes, I know. I did it on purpose.)
The thing that’s really bugging me is that, in general, I like Kaladin, and I like all he’s set up to become. He’s a natural leader in many ways, and he’s all about protecting those he considers his responsibility. That’s great, and it suits a Windrunner very well. What I dislike is that he thinks he wants to be a team player—but he wants to do it on his own terms. It doesn’t work that way—especially when you aren’t qualified to be the coach.
Moving on… I had to snicker a bit at Wit’s appearance.
Kaladin scrambled up to his feet. Wit sat on a bench by the far wall, outside the cell and under the spheres, tuning some kind of strange instrument on his lap made of taut strings and polished wood. He hadn’t been there a moment ago. Storms… had the bench even been there before?
It’s a good question. Heh.
I love the way Wit goads Kaladin into making suggestions about the story: he plays his harp (or whatever it is—electric guitar?) and waits for Kaladin to tell him what the music provokes in his imagination. Each time Kaladin makes a statement, Wit turns it into a versified chant, expanding on it and explaining thea background for the suggestion, never actually going beyond what Kaladin said. Then he waits until Kaladin moves the story forward again. So in large part, it’s a story about Kaladin, or at least about Kaladin’s frame of mind.
Essentially, it’s a story about a legendary runner named Fleet, who could outrun anything, even the Herald Chanarach. Eventually, with no one left to challenge, he challenged the highstorm itself, running before the storm across the entire continent. It almost caught him in the central mountains, but then he reached the divide and gained ground. Again, it almost caught him in the mountains guarding Shinovar, but he managed to stay ahead of it, if only just. His strength finally failed and he collapsed… but the storm was spent as well, and could not pass the point where he fell.
Even though it was (at least in one sense) his own bad-tempered statement that ended the story there, Kaladin is shocked that Wit agrees with him, that Fleet died. But… the story isn’t over.
“Upon that land of dirt and soil,” Wit shouted, “our hero fell and did not stir! His body spent, his strength undone, Fleet the hero was no more.
“The storm approached and found him there. It stilled and stopped upon its course! The rains they fell, the winds they blew, but forward they could not progress.
“For glory lit, and life alive, for goals unreached and aims to strive. All men must try, the wind did see. It is the test, it is the dream.”
Kaladin stepped slowly up to the bars. Even with eyes open, he could see it. Imagine it.
“So in that land of dirt and soil, our hero stopped the storm itself. And while the rain came down like tears, our Fleet refused to end this race. His body dead, but not his will, within those winds his soul did rise.
“It flew upon the day’s last song, to win the race and claim the dawn. Past the sea and past the waves, our Fleet no longer lost his breath. Forever strong, forever fast, forever free to race the wind.”
Kaladin (and perhaps the reader) is left wondering what it means, because stories have meaning. But when he asks Wit, the answer is merely that since it’s Kaladin’s story, he must decide what it meant.
“The storm caught him,” Kaladin said.
“The storm catches everyone, eventually. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good.” Wit tipped his sword up toward his forehead, as if in respect. “Then you have something to think about.”
He left.
I love that ending. And I should probably have ended with it, but I have to comment. (Hey, it’s my job, right?) It’s an amazing story for a developing Windrunner, one who can indeed race the wind and win (as long as he doesn’t run out of Stormlight). Sadly, Kaladin is too lost in his own personal frustrations to see the connection, and we have no evidence he actually spent any time thinking further about it.
Stormwatch
This chapter takes place on Kaladin’s third day in prison—the first being the day of the duel—so there are now 26 days left in the countdown.
Sprenspotting
Oh, my poor dear Sylphrena. Watching her droop in this chapter is painful, especially now that we know where this attitude of Kaladin’s is leading. *sigh*
There are a couple of other interesting notes, though. One odd tidbit I noticed was that part of Kaladin’s complaint about his cell was the lack of exposure; he missed the wind. The solitude wasn’t an issue, the lack of wind was. Is this significant of his connection to windspren through his honorspren? Or is it just a general lack-of-fresh-air problem?
Another (though it seems “old news” by now, we were pretty enthusiastic when we first saw it) was this one:
She lifted her chin. “I’m no highspren. Laws don’t matter; what’s right matters.”
Highspren have, I believe, been confirmed as the Skybreaker-spren; this highlights a major difference between honorspren & highspren—and therefore, between Windrunners and Skybreakers—and one that we should all be cognizant of, even for ourselves. There is sometimes a distinction between what is legal and what is moral; there is even, sometimes, a case where moral conduct requires opposition to an unjust law. Even more than real life (for most of us), Roshar seems to have plenty of these cases, from Alethkar to Shinovar. Realistic worldbuilding FTW?
It does make me wonder: in the old days, was there frequent conflict between Skybreakers who judged guilt or innocence solely according to law, and Windrunners who judged action according to moral values rather than legal? Where did the other Orders fit along this spectrum, or did they care?
Back to the chapter…
Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?
Well, hello, Hoid. Lightweaving, or just personal insight and clever storytelling?
Also, this little Easter egg regarding other places he’s been and things he’s done:
Wit leaned down to tune his instrument, one leg crossed over the other. He hummed softly to himself and nodded. “Perfect pitch,” Wit said, “makes this all so much easier than it once was….”
I think we can take it as a given that he holds at least 200 Breaths, just in case you were curious. I suppose it’s possible there are other ways he could have acquired perfect pitch, but this is the sort of thing Brandon throws in for the obsessiveoverly detail-orientedvery thorough among us to find and squee over.
Staging Note: the epigraphs of Part Four form a letter which responds to the letter of the TWoK Part Two epigraphs. Feel free to comment on them as we go, particularly if you notice a connection between the epigraph and the chapter content. I, however, will be dealing with them in total as a separate post at the end of Part Four, just before the next set of Interludes. Just so you know.
Heraldic Symbolism
Nalan, Judge, Herald of Justice and patron of the Skybreakers. Because Kaladin deserves to be in prison? Because he doesn’t? Because Syl mentions the highspren? The Joker, wild card, jester, Wit. Because Wit.
Well. That was cheery. Let’s go hit the comment thread, and then come back next week for a much more positive chapter—at long last—as Shallan starts out practicing Scholarship and ends up practicing Lightweaving.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Back when she started all this fandom business, though, it was with the Wheel of Time and Leigh Butler’s famous WoT Reread. It’s suitable, then, that she went out as Cadsuane last night to acquire a signed copy of the final release: the Wheel of Time Companion. Yes, of course Cadsuane.