The Emperor's Soul

by Brandon Sanderson

The woman they spoke of, Wan ShaiLu, was more than a simple con artist. So much more. She could change the nature of reality itself.

Why would she bother learning to paint? Wasn’t ordinary art mundane compared to her mystical talents?

We either use this woman’s skill, or we give up control of the empire.”

How many years had it been since Frava and Gaotona had agreed on anything at all, let alone on something so divisive as making use of the Forger?

Shai pressed her fingernail into one of the stone blocks of her prison cell. The rock gave way slightly.

Limestone. An odd material for use in a prison wall, but the whole wall wasn’t of limestone, merely that single vein within the block.

To Forge something, you had to know its past, its nature.

however, as she noticed another set of markings on the bed leg, lit by her flickering candle. Those kept track of her days of imprisonment.

If her count was right, only a day remained before the date set for ...

One day. One day remaining to create a soulstamp and escape. But she had no soulstone, only a crude piece of wood, and her only tool for carving was a fork.

You’re not going to get out this way, Shai, she told herself. You need another method.

She’d waited six days, searching for another way out. Guards to exploit, someone to bribe, a hint about the nature of her cell. So far, nothing had— Far above, the door to the dungeons opened.

If she were going to take someone to an early execution, she’d have let the prisoner think something else was happening, so she wouldn’t resist.

However, they didn’t lock Shai in manacles as they marched her out of the dungeons.

She shouldn’t have been caught, but she could do nothing about that now.

She had been bested, betrayed by the Imperial Fool when she’d assumed she could trust him. He had taken her copy of the Moon Scepter and swapped it for the original, then run off.

No matter how good you were, someone was better. Live by that knowledge, and you would never grow so confident that you became sloppy.

Last time she had lost. This time she would win.

was. She would seize it and thrive. This time, she played not for riches, but for her life.

She tried with some success not to feel dwarfed by them. Her people, the MaiPon, were not known for their stature.

Judging by that styled hair, the youthful captain did not often wear a helmet.

That polished armor, that crisp air. Yes, he fancied himself bound for important things in the future.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, woman.”

If someone were to turn over one of those urns and remove the stamp on the bottom, the piece would become simple unornamented pottery.

Frava, senior among the arbiters of the Heritage Faction, was probably the most powerful person in the empire other than Emperor Ashravan himself.

Shai had long pondered how to rob this woman, as—among her duties—Frava oversaw the Imperial Gallery and had offices adjacent to it.

Gaotona was eldest of the ruling arbiters. He was said to be the least influential among them, out of favor with the emperor.

Both fell silent as Shai entered. They eyed her as if she were a cat that had just knocked over a fine vase.

Shai missed her spectacles, but took care not to squint as she stepped up to face these people; she needed...

“You have quite the list of crimes credited to your name.” The way you say that . . . What game was this woman playing? She wants something of me, Shai decided. That is the only reason to bring me in like this.

reForging your soul,

Did you really assume that we would fail to recognize a simple forgery of such an important imperial possession?”

It gave Shai a little thrill of satisfaction to know that her forgery now occupied the Moon Scepter’s position of honor in the Imperial Gallery.

“You were obviously planning to swap this for the painting in my office by the Imperial Gallery. And yet, you were striving for the Moon Scepter itself. Why plan to steal the painting too? Greed?”

“My uncle Won,” Shai said, “told me to always have a backup plan. I couldn’t be certain the scepter would even be on display.”

“But child, you can’t honestly believe we’d let you free. With sins like this? You are in a monumentally bad predicament, and our mercy can only be extended so far . . .”

They were listening. Something is wrong, Shai thought. They’re worried.

Together, that was meant to make her pliable, willing to agree to anything in the hope that she’d be freed.

An opportunity indeed . . . It was time to take control of this conversation.

“Girl, you are to be executed on the morrow! If we did wish something of you, the payment would be your life.”

“My life is my own,” Shai said. “And it has been for days now.” “Please,” Frava said. “You were locked in the Forger’s cell, with thirty different kinds of stone in the wall.”

“Forty-four kinds, actually.” Gaotona raised an appreciative eyebrow. Nights! I’m gl...

“You thought I wouldn’t recognize the grindstone, didn’t you? Please. I’m a Forger. I learned stone classification during my first year of training. That...

“Yes, I know about the plates of ralkalest, the unForgeable metal, hidden behind the rock wall of my cell,” Shai guessed.

“The problem with ralkalest,” Shai said, “is that it’s not a very strong metal. Oh, the grate at the top of my cell was solid enough, and I couldn’t have gotten through that. But a thin plate? Really. Have you heard of anthracite?”

“It is a rock that burns,” Gaotona said. “You gave me a candle,” Shai said, reaching into the small of her back. She tossed her makeshift wooden soulstamp onto the desk.

Nights! It looked like they’d actually bought it. She’d worried they’d know enough of Forgery to see through her lie.

And so we come to my payment.” “I could still have you executed,” Frava said. “Right now. Here.” “But you won’t, will you?” Frava set her jaw.

she’d impressed him, but at the same time, his eyes seemed . . . sorrowful? Was that the right emotion? She found this aged man as difficult to read as a book in Svordish.

They were called Essence Marks, the most powerful kind of soulstamp. Each Essence Mark had to be attuned to a specific individual, and was intended to rewrite their history, personality, and soul for a short time.