Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive, #4)

by Brandon Sanderson

YOU GIVE TOO MUCH OF YOURSELF TO THAT HUMAN. “Isn’t that why we exist?” NO. YOU HAVE ALWAYS MISUNDERSTOOD THIS. YOU DO NOT EXIST FOR THEM. YOU EXIST FOR YOU. YOU EXIST TO CHOOSE.

“Your abilities are what made the original Oathpact,” she said. “And they existed—and were named—long before the Knights Radiant were founded. A Bondsmith Connected the Heralds to Braize, made them immortal, and locked our enemies away. A Bondsmith bound other Surges and brought humans to Roshar, fleeing their dying world. A Bondsmith created—or at least discovered—the Nahel bond: the ability of spren and humans to join together into something better. You Connect things, Dalinar. Realms. Ideas. People.”

to the power that moved within him. The mind did not like being questioned, but the power … It liked questions. It liked arguments. It was passion. There was a weakness here. In the division between the Vessel and the Shard.

Dear Wanderer, I did receive your latest communication. Please forgive formality on my part, as we have not met in person. I feel new to this role, despite my years holding it. You will admit to my relative youth, I think.

I have been fascinated to discover how much you’ve accomplished on Scadrial without me noticing your presence. How is it that you hide from Shards so well?

“What does it say?” “‘War is the last option of the state that has failed,’” Adolin said, tapping the side with the divine robed figure. He pushed it to spin it in Kaladin’s fingers, showing the other side. “‘But it is better than having no options.’”

“I talk to my sword too,” Adolin told them. “Funny thing is, she eventually talked back. Never be afraid to show a little respect to those you depend upon, friends.”

I have reached out to the others as you requested, and have received a variety of responses.

The tower was the same color the sky turned in Shadesmar when a highstorm was passing over Roshar.

Should we not walk? On our feet? The ones I now have again? I do like my feet. They are befittingly perambulatory.”

Much as you indicate, there is a division among the other Shards I would not have anticipated.

Endowment at least responded to my overtures, though I have not been able to locate Invention again following our initial contact.

Whimsy was not terribly useful, and Mercy worries me. I do think that Valor is reasonable, and suggest you approach her again. It has been too long, in her estimation, since your last conversation.

“I don’t deserve mercy. I don’t deserve anything.” “You just want to stop existing,” Kaladin said. “You don’t want to actually kill yourself, not on most days. But you figure it sure would be convenient if you weren’t around anymore.” “Better for everyone to not have to deal with me,” Noril said.

“It wouldn’t be, you know,” Kaladin said. “Better for everyone, if you vanished. Your niece loves you. Your return would make her life better.” “I can’t feel that way,” Noril said. “I know. That’s why you need someone to tell it to you. You need someone to talk to, Noril, when the darkness is strong. Someone to remind you the world hasn’t always been this way; that it won’t always be this way.”

“A man can’t hate himself because of what he’s done or not done,” Teft said. “I used to. Still try to sometimes, but I keep reminding myself that’s the easy path. It isn’t what they would have wanted of me, you know?”

The deaths of both Devotion and Dominion trouble me greatly, as I had not realized this immense power we held was something that could be broken in such a way. On my world, the power always gathered and sought a new Vessel.

That said, the most worrying thing I discovered in this was the wound upon the Spiritual Realm where Ambition, Mercy, and Odium clashed—and Ambition was destroyed. The effects on the planet Threnody have been … disturbing.

Other Shards I cannot identify, and are hidden to me. I fear that their influence encroaches upon my world, yet I am locked into a strange inability because of the opposed powers I hold.

I have begun searching for a pathway out of this conundrum by seeking the ideal person to act on my behalf. Someone who embodies both Preservation and Ruin. A … sword, you might say, who can both protect and kill.

But this does not get to the core of your letter. I have encouraged those who would speak to me to heed your warnings, but all seem content to ignore Odium for the time being. In their opinion, he is no threat as long as he remains confined in the Rosharan system.

I do not share their attitude. If you can, as you suppose, maintain Odium’s prison for now, it would give us necessary time to plan. This is a threat beyond the capacity of one Shard to face.

“Nine Surges. You know of the Surges?” “The innate forces by which all life, all reality, are connected. Gravitation. Transportation. Transformation. But … I thought there were ten?” “That is human talk,” Raboniel said to Derision. “They claim a tenth, of Honor alone. Adhesion is not a true Surge, but a lie that was presented to us as one. True Surges are of both Honor and Cultivation—Cultivation for life, Honor to make the Surge into natural law. Things must fall to the ground, so they created Surges to make it happen.”

Unfortunately, as proven by my own situation, the combination of Shards is not always a path to greater power.

We must assume that Odium has realized this, and is seeking a singular, terrible goal: the destruction—and somehow Splintering or otherwise making impotent—of all Shards other than him.

To combine powers would change and distort who Odium is. So instead of absorbing others, he destroys them. Since we are all essentially infinite, he needs no more power. Destroying and Splintering the other Shards would leave Odium as the sole god, unchanged and uncorrupted by other influences.

“Most spren appear nothing like creatures from our world.” Notum smiled, a rare expression on the spren’s face, then gestured to himself. “Do we not?” “The humanoid ones, yes,” Adolin said. “I’ve never seen one in the shape of a horse.” “Not all spren were imagined by men, Adolin Kholin,” Notum called to him. “Farewell.”

“No one ever accomplished anything by being content with who they were, Shallan,” Adolin said. “We accomplish great things by reaching toward who we could become.” “As long as it’s what you want to become. Not what someone else thinks you should become.”

You say that the power itself must be treated as separate in our minds from the Vessel who controls it.

Never underestimate the strength of a soldier trained to stand fast.

Never underestimate the simple intimidating force of a man who won’t back down.

Never underestimate the worth of being willing to hold. Your. GROUND.

I find this difficult to do on an intrinsic level, as although I am neither Ruin nor Preservation, they make up me.

Regardless, I will try to do as you suggest. However, you seem more afraid of the Vessel. I warn you that this is a flaw in your understanding.

“You’re not…” Lirin lowered the chart. “Insane?” Kaladin asked. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t see them as our brothers, sisters, children. They make us feel helpless. We are afraid because we can’t bind a broken mind the way we do a broken finger.”

You have not felt what I have. You have not known what I have. You rejected that chance—and wisely, I think.

However, though you think not as a mortal, you are their kin. The power of Odium’s Shard is more dangerous than the mind behind it. Particularly since any Investiture seems to gain a will of its own when not controlled.

My instincts say that the power of Odium is not being controlled well. The Vessel will be adapted to the power’s will. And after this long, if Odium is still seeking to destroy, then it is because of the power.

Of course, I admit this is a small quibble. A difference of semantics more than anything.

“If there is one thing I can guarantee you about humankind, Last Listener, it is this: Provide them with a sword, and they will find a way to impale themselves upon it.”

In truth, it would be a combination of a Vessel’s craftiness and the power’s Intent that we should fear most.

Regardless, please make yourself known to me when you travel my lands. It is distressing that you think you need to move in the shadows.

They eventually reached her nest, a large opening where four tall ventilation shafts met. Here she’d piled up blankets, food stores, and some treasures. One of Dalinar’s knives she was absolutely sure he hadn’t wanted her to steal. Some interesting shells. An old flute that Wyndle said looked strange.

You can’t be taking stuff from people who don’t have much. That was the first rule of not being a total-and-utter-useless-piece-of-chull-dung.

He’d been given a boon and a curse. Intelligence on one side. Compassion on the other. When smart, he assumed the compassion was the curse. But was it really? Or was the curse that he could never have both at once?

On that day, he’d been a god. On the day when he’d created this fragment a year ago, he’d considered himself a prophet to that god. So what was he now? A priest? A humble follower? A fool? In a way, it felt a betrayal to think in religious terms. This was not the act of gods, but men. No. A god made you what you are.

“Their lives will be spent as they expect—in war, in glory, in blood. I will give them exactly what they’ve been asking for. They don’t know it, but they beg me for death in their requests for power. Only you have begged me for peace.”

I find this format most comfortable, as it is how I’ve collaborated in the past. I have never done it in this way, and with this kind of partner. —From Rhythm of War, page 1

I approach this project with an equal mixture of trepidation and hope. And I know not which should rule. —From Rhythm of War, page 1

I approach this project with inspiration renewed; the answers are all that should matter. —From Rhythm of War, page 1 undertext