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November 21 - November 27, 2020
I remember so few of those centuries. I am a blur. A smear on the page. A gaunt stretch of ink, made all the more insubstantial with each passing day.
Midius once told me … told me we could use Investiture … to enhance our minds, our memories, so we wouldn’t forget so much.
Why would I want to remember?
He didn’t like it when people used the word “stupid” for the way he was. People called one another stupid when they made mistakes. Dabbid wasn’t a mistake. He could make mistakes. Then he was stupid. But not always. He couldn’t think fast like others. But that made him different, not stupid. Stupid was a choice.
Dabbid wasn’t Radiant. He wasn’t brave. He wasn’t smart. But today he hadn’t been stupid either.
Maybe if I remembered my life, I’d be capable of being confident like I once was. Maybe I’d stop vacillating when even the most simple of decisions is presented to me.
What was a god who only made demands? Nothing but a tyrant with a different name.
Instead I think, if I were to remember my life in detail, I would become even worse. Paralyzed by my terrible actions. I should not like to remember all those I have failed.
Regardless, I write now. Because I know they are coming for me. They got Jezrien. They’ll inevitably claim me, even here in the honorspren stronghold.
And so, I’ll die. Yes, die. If you’re reading this and wondering what went wrong—why my soul evaporated soon after being claimed by the gemstone in your knife—then I name you idiot for playing with powers you only presume to understand.
The bond is what keeps us alive. You sever that, and we will slowly decompose into ordinary souls—with no valid Connection to the Physical or Spiritual Realms. Capture one of us with your knives, and you won’t be left with a spren in a jar, foolish ones. You’ll be left with a being that eventually fades away into the Beyond.
I felt it happen to Jezrien. You think you captured him, but our god is Splintered, our Oathpact severed. He faded over the weeks, and is gone now. Beyond your touch at long last. I should welcome the same. I do not. I fear you.
Nevertheless, I’m writing answers for you here, because something glimmers deep within me. A fragment of a memory of what I once was. I was there when Ba-Ado-Mishram was captured. I know the truth of the Radiants, the Recreance, and the Nahel spren.
I tell you; I write it. You must release the captive Unmade. She will not fade as I will. If you leave her as she is, she will remain imprisoned for eternity.
“I’m thinking,” Lirin said, “that my wife needs a supportive husband, not a self-righteous one.”
I see that your thoughts and feelings are evolving on this topic—and because you’re you, they’re going the absolute wrong direction.”
Who would you rather have out there fighting? Some crazed killer who enjoys it, or the boy you trained to care?” He hesitated, then opened his mouth. “Before you say you don’t want anyone fighting,” Hesina interrupted, “know that I’ll recognize that as a lie. We both know you’ve admitted that people need to fight sometimes. You simply don’t want it to be your son, despite the fact that he’s probably the best person we could have chosen.” “You obviously know the responses you want from me,” Lirin said. “So why should I bother speaking?” Hesina groaned, tipping her head back. “You can be so
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“He’s got the emptiness, bad as I do. I can see it in him. We all can. But he gets up anyway. We’re trapped in here, and we all want to do something to help. We can’t, but somehow he can. “And you know, I’ve listened to ardents talk. I’ve been poked and prodded. I’ve been stuck in the dark. None of that worked as well as knowing this one thing, sir. He still gets up. He still fights. So I figure … I figure I can too.”
Other people didn’t understand intelligence and stupidity. They assumed people who were stupid were somehow less human—less capable of making decisions or plans. That wasn’t it at all. He could plan, he merely needed time. He could remember things, given a chance to drill them into his brain. Part of being smart, in his experience, was about speed more than capacity. That and the ability to memorize.
Taravangian had a huge advantage over almost everyone else. Others, stupid or smart, tended to overestimate their abilities. Not Taravangian. He knew exactly how it felt to be both smart and stupid.
The plan of a man, not a god.
I look forward to ruling the humans. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
I had my title and my rhythms stripped from me for daring insist they should not be killed, but should instead be reconditioned. Repurposed. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
“Who are you really?” “Someone,” he said, “who wisely turned down the power the others all took—and in so doing, gained freedoms they can never again have. I, Jasnah, am someone who is not bound.”
“I feel,” she said, “like I should be terrified by that statement.” “That’s why I’m so fond of you,” he said. “You are poised, you are smart, and you are always ready with a ploy; but when each of those things fails you, Jasnah, you are—above all else—paranoid.”
Humans are weapons. We singers revere Passion, do we not? How can we throw away such an excellent channeling of it? —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
I love their art. The way they depict us is divine, all red shades and black lines. We appear demonic and fearsome; they project all fear and terror upon us. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
To humans, our very visages become symbols. You find echoes of it even in the art from centuries before this Return. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
Some people charged toward the goal, running for all they had. Others stumbled. But it wasn’t the speed that mattered. It was the direction they were going.
Watch them struggle. Witness their writhing, their refusal to surrender. Humans cling to the rocks with the vigor of any Rosharan vine. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
Humans are a poem. A song. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
You can kill me, but you can’t have what I have. You can never have it. Because I die knowing I’m loved.”
For ones so soft, they are somehow strong. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
For ones so varied, they are somehow intense. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
“Live … as long as I … and you can appreciate … anything … that still surprises you.…
For ones so lost, they are somehow determined. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
“If he keeps pushing, he’ll have me. So I have to go.” THAT IS A LIE, the Stormfather said. IT IS HIS ULTIMATE LIE, SON OF HONOR. THE LIE THAT SAYS YOU HAVE NO CHOICE. THE LIE THAT THERE IS NO MORE JOURNEY WORTH TAKING.
For ones so confused, they are somehow brilliant. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
“They all die, Tien. Everyone dies.” “So they do, don’t they?” “That means it doesn’t matter,” Kaladin said. “None of it matters.” “See, that’s the wrong way of looking at it.” Tien held him tighter. “Since we all go to the same place in the end, the moments we spent with each other are the only things that do matter. The times we helped each other.”
“I’m not strong enough,” Kaladin whispered. “You’re strong enough for me.” “I’m not good enough.” “You’re good enough for me.” “I wasn’t there.” Tien smiled. “You are here for me, Kal. You’re here for all of us.” “And…” Kaladin said, tears on his cheeks, “if I fail again?” “You can’t. So long as you understand.”
The enemy thinks he’s won. But I want to see his face when he realizes the truth. Don’t you? It’s going to be delightful.”
I accept that there will be those I cannot protect!”
For ones so tarnished, they are somehow bright. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
Radiant. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
And so I am not at all dissatisfied with recent events. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
Roshar will be united in its service of the greater war. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
All this time, he’d been asking what a god could possibly fear, but the answer was obvious. Odium feared men who would not obey him.
And I will march proudly at the head of a human legion. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
You have performed a kindness, the Sibling said in her head. “I feel awful.” That is part of the kindness.
They should not be discarded, but helped to their potential. Their final Passions. —Musings of El, on the first of the Final Ten Days
