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Sel is notable for being dishardic, one of few planets in the cosmere to attract two separate Shards of Adonalsium: Dominion and Devotion.
at some point in the distant past, both Devotion and Dominion were destroyed. Their Investiture—their power—was Splintered, their minds ripped away, their souls sent into the Beyond.
the bulk of the Investiture that made up the powers of Dominion and Devotion is trapped on the Cognitive Realm.
magic on Sel is very dependent upon physical position. In addition, the rules of perception and intent are greatly magnified on Sel, to the point that language—or similar functions—directly shapes the magic as it is pulled from the Cognitive Realm and put to use.
She could change the nature of reality itself. That raised another question. Why would she bother learning to paint? Wasn’t ordinary art mundane compared to her mystical talents?
The longer an object exists as a whole, and the longer it is seen in that state, the stronger its sense of complete identity becomes. That table is made up of various pieces of wood fitted together, but do we think of it that way? No. We see the whole. “To Forge the table, I must understand it as a whole.
“Each object sees itself as something. Connection and intent are vital.
The Heritage Faction continued to dig up and revive ancient feasts in an effort to sway public opinion back toward them.
Even after all this time, the window had seen itself as something beautiful.
EACH person was a puzzle.
No person was one single emotion; no person had only one desire. They had many, and usually those desires conflicted with one another like two rosebushes fighting for the same patch of ground. Respect the people you lie to, Tao had taught her. Steal from them long enough, and you will begin to understand them.
I am depending upon you to preserve us in power by means of this art we so freely call an abomination. Our hunger for power outweighs our conscience.”
Well if this isn't pertinent right now...
We will be led by someone not truly alive, Gaotona thought. The fruits of our foul labors.
Just … please, let it not be a monster.
You can’t always write what you know—not exactly what you know. You can, however, write what you see.
Scadrial, another dishardic planet, is characterized by a host of unique features. It is one of only two places in the cosmere where humankind does not predate the arrival of Shards.
the planet itself did not exist before its Shards, Ruin and Preservation, arrived in the system.
I can say, however, that their conflict is manifested directly in the ways that Investiture is used on Scadrial.
The planet was literally moved at various points by individuals wielding immense amounts of Investiture.
Hemalurgy. Usable by anyone with the right knowledge, this dangerous creation has proven able to warp souls regardless of planet or Investiture, creating false Connections that no Shard designed or intended.
A flower. That was what it had been called. A myth, a story. A dream.
“Who tells you how to decide what to do with your time? Was it your parents who showed you? What’s the secret?” “The secret to what?” “To being human,” Lift said softly. “That,” the man said, chuckling, “I don’t think I know. At least not better than you do.”
calm your tentacles,
I bet those scribes work nights. They feed off ink. Why sleep when you could be writin’ up some new law about how many fingers people can use to hold a spoon?
Government in a nutshell lol
“I want control,” she said, opening her eyes. “Not like a king or anything. I just want to be able to control it, a little. My life. I don’t want to get shoved around, by people or by fate or whatever. I just … I want it to be me who chooses.”
THIS
If you ever encounter another of the Sleepless, tell them you’ve spoken with Arclo. I’m certain it will gain you sympathy.”
When one achieves immortality, one must find purpose beyond the struggle to live, as old Axies always said.”
“What if ‘instinct’ doesn’t guide us? What if everybody is frightened, and nobody has the answers?” It was the conclusion that had always been too intimidating to consider.
And then, by instinct, she did something she would never have thought possible. She hugged Darkness. He clung to her, this monster, this callous thing that had once been a Herald. He clung to her and wept in the storm. Then, with a crash of thunder, he pushed away from her.
summoned Wyndle in the shape of a large, shimmering, silvery fork. A Shardfork, if you would. She stabbed him into the pancakes,
Okay that is funny
“You’ve got what figured out?” “Nothing at all,” Lift said, with the utmost confidence. But I will listen to those who are ignored, she thought. Even people like Darkness, whom I’d rather never have heard. Maybe that will help.
“Y’know, Wyndle. It’s strange, but … I’m starting to think you might not be a Voidbringer after all.”
