The Sunlit Man

by Brandon Sanderson

“Same is said of the storm on my homeworld,” Nomad said. “But I know someone who survived it, then inspired a whole host of us to do the same.”

“It is the name I deserve. And it sounds a little like my birth name, in my own language.” “Which is?” “Sigzil,”

“We name you Zellion,” Contemplation said. “After the original Lodestar, who led us to this land and to life. As you have led us.”

“It means One Who Finds,”

Intent. “I…” he whispered. “I accept.” Warmth flooded into him through their grip.

“A lesson for you,” he said. “You never get to be ready. You just have to move forward anyway.

Nomad wasn’t surprised; the Night Brigade didn’t like people to know why he was important. The Dawnshard was a weapon too valuable to sell.

“Our faith,” she said, “is that this is all part of some plan. It’s not about everything happening the way we want—but trusting that it is happening the way someone wants.”

“I’ll assume none of you have seen Shardplate in action before. Stand back and enjoy this next part. I’ll make us a path.”

Storms. He had to get off this planet, or everything would start looking like part of some nebulous, deific plan.