Chapter 1: Prologue: Breaking
Dalinar Kholin was alone...so alone.
“You're not alone Dalinar.” Odium went down on one knee beside him, “I've always been here, with you.”
The thrill surged within and Dalinar knew that, at his core, he was a fraud. He was a murderer, a child killer. He was in a way connected to this creature. Dalinar clenched his hand into a fist, nails biting into the flesh of his hand so hard they drew blood. The pain was nothing more than a pin-prick next to the weight of his past.
“Let go Dalinar, you don't have to feel any of this.” Odium whispered.
The agony receded ever so slightly at his words. Could he really take it away, make this pain simply stop? In the back of Dalinar's mind The Stormfather wept distantly, but the sound was shoved away when Odium spoke again.
“Give it to me. It is my burden to bear, not yours.”
Dalinar hesitated, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to give the pain away.
A moment was all it took.
The pain was suddenly gone. Dalinar could no longer hear Evi's tears or the screams of people burning. He didn't feel the shame of having failed his brother or the loss of his nephew. The only thing he felt was The Thrill waiting at the edges of his awareness to be embraced.
Dalinar stood and looked at Odium, the god who had given him in truth that which the woman in the west had only given for a moment.
“See Dalinar, doesn't that feel better?” Odium asked, clapping him on the shoulder, “Ah, but of course, you'll want someone to fight. Meridas, lend The Blackthorn an appropriate weapon.”
Meridas Amaram stepped up, holding his hand out in a gesture that meant he was preparing to summon a shardblade. Ten heartbeats later Oathbringer dropped into his hand, and Amaram proffered it to Dalinar. “I knew you'd make the right choice in the end old friend.” Amaram said as Dalinar took the shardblade from the Sadeas High Prince.
Odium looked around before his gaze fell upon a nearby parshwoman, “You. You can fight as the human champion.”
Her eyes opened wide with fear, “Me?” she asked.
“Of course. Well, so long as the Bondsmith agrees.” Odium seemed to be enjoying himself as he look towards Dalinar.
Dalinar could feel The Thrill for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. It didn't come in it's entirety yet, but he hungered for contest, to test his strength against another, to slaughter foes without end. “This is what you needed me to do?” he turned to Odium, gritting his teeth.
“This, Dalinar? This is a formality. Afterwords is when the real fun starts.”
“Fine then.” Dalinar said, hefting Oathbringer and steeping towards the Parshwoman. He slashed at her with the Shardblade, cutting through her flesh and carapace as though it was air. Her eyes burned as she fell to the ground before him.
The boom echoed in Jasnah's ears. It sounded like something had crashed through the sky.
“J-Jasnah?” Renarin ask as he ran along behind her, “What...?”
Jasnah turnded her head to look at Ivory, who had appeared on her shoulder. “This isn't good Jasnah, I think...I think he's broken free.”
“The Oathgate then. We need to get as many people as possible somewhere safe.”
“Safe from what Jasnah? And where is safe from...from whatever that is?” Renarin shook his head, mottled blonde and black hair a mess, “What, Odium? That would mean that Father...”
Don't dwell on it Renarin. And Hurry!” Jasnah shouted, and began leading her younger cousin towards the Oathgate at a sprint.
“Misstress!” Wyndle whined, “This is bad. Very, very bad.”
“Shut it, Voidbringer.” Lift said, sliding beneath the legs of some Alethi guy to get to the Assassin in White, who was apparently almost as awesome as her. “Hey, Assassin, I think we should get out'a here!”
“ I think you are right, but where?” The Assassin asked, swinging that weird Shardblade and smacking a guy in the head with it's silver sheath.
“Not here. Storms, it sounded like someone just smashed a vase over the world.”
The Assassin grabbed Lift's arm and made himself so awesome that he glowed like some kind'a Herald or something. Then they flew. Well, it didn't feel like flying, more like they were falling the wrong way. Still, it did get them moving pretty fast.
“And not the crummy vase!” Lift shouted, “It was the good one that you put out to impress people. Someone's gana be mad when they get home and find whoever did that.”
They started falling sideways instead of up, going away, which Lift figured was good.
Beads flew through the air around Kaladin, Shallan, and Syl as they stood over a wounded Adolin in the Cognitive realm. “Damnation, Princeling! I am not loosing you!” Kaladin said, trying desperately to think of some way to save the storming man's life.
“Kaladin, something's very wrong.” Syl yelled over the sound of thousands of glass beads bouncing off of each other, the ground, and four beings.
“She's right!” Shallan shouted, “Even if you save him it doesn't mean anything if all of us die...”
“Damnation, what do you want to me to then, woman.” Kaladin turned to look at Shallan, only to notice her looking up in horror. He followed her gaze. There was a great, storming, hole in the sky. It glowed red and malevolent against the dark sky of the cognitive realm, eight cracks jutting straight out from the...the hole in the sky!”
Harmony 'saw' him escape. He had only had is powers from around 300 years, but it still seemed that whatever this was, it was not something that was meant to happen. That worried him, it was headed right for his world and he didn't think he could stop it. He knew it was like him, a shard, but there was something else. There was a great and terrible power that it had somehow tapped into. Harmony sighed, his best hope of preserving anything of his world might be to ruin it.
Subject 487630982 was an odd case indeed. Nikolas looked through the report on his dataslate again. He'd have though it might be a fabrication if he hadn't examined the subject himself. At 6'8” he might have been Void Born, but his deep tan that had darkened further by sun exposure contradicted that observation. His black hair had hidden brands on his forehead, though a search through Imperial databases showed no matches for them. On the occasions that he'd awoken his shouting was also incomprehensible, and also showed no matches in the Imperial Database.
The oddest things, and the reason Nokolas had both a Genetor of the Adeptus Mechanicus and Space Marine bearing an Inquisitorial Seal standing in the operating room with him, was his arrival and the mysterious weapon he seemed to be able to conjure out of mid-air. As far as anyone could tell, he had fallen out of the warp and gone unconscious. The sword wasn't with him then, he'd conjured it in his moments of consciousness and those observing him had been forced to administer electric shocks to keep him from trying anything else. They hadn't been able to take the weapon, it just disappeared as soon as he released his grip on it. They had restrained him with metal manacles attached to the operating table he was lying on.
“Medicae, you mentioned that it seemed to have...unnatural healing abilities.” The Genetor's voice was raspy and metallic, sending shivers down Nikolas' spine.
“Um, yes. He heals faster than anything I've ever heard of. Screams like he's being tortured when in happens, even after anesthetic has been administered.”
“A mutant and an unregistered Psyker. We should dispose of it.” The marine reached a grey gauntleted hand down to grab a flamer off his belt.
“Wait Librarian.” Nikolas shivered again at the sound of the Genetor's voice. “We must study it. Perhaps question, it.” Instruments started to extend from the Adept's appendages, “Medicae, leave the room.”
Nikolas nearly ran for the door. Being in a room with one of those two would have been bad enough, but both. He shook his head and slumped against the wall as the door hissed shut. He still wasn't sure he wouldn't be killed for knowing about all this.
Kaladin screamed as he sucked in Stormlight. He didn't know were it was coming from, just that he was able to take it in. That might have been useful if it hadn't been for the screams. It reminded him of touching a dead Shard Blade, but more. Like touching ten times ten-thousand dead Shard Blades.
Still, Kaladin took in Stormlight. He didn't really have much choice, some kind of malevolent metal creature was trying to break open his skull! He tried summoning Syl as a Shard Blade, but as soon as she materialized in his hand his entire body seized up and he was forced to drop her.
The metal thing buzzed at something, a man that looked like he was wearing some kind of Shard Plate that Kaladin was vaguely aware of.
The Stormlight vanished. The screaming stopped. And the thing broke through his skull.
An hour after being dismissed, Nikolas was summoned back into the operating room by the Space Marine. He hadn't been told his name, and only knew that he was a Librarian.
“Storm off! What did you do to me? Are you some kind of Voidbringer?” Subject 487630982 shouted at the member of the Adeptus Mechanicus as Nikolas entered the room again. “Never again! I won't be aaaaarrggghhh!” he screamed, body arching for a moment before he slumped back to the table. The table seemed to glow with a faintly red light for such a brief moment, but that it might have been Nikolas' imagination.
Nikolas stopped, subject 487630982 had never spoken Low Gothic before. The Space Marine looked towards the Genetor, “He is completely irrational.”
“Medicae, calm him. Perhaps he will respond to someone...unaugmented.”
Nikolas slowly walked up to the restrained, shouting man. “You can understand me?” he asked, trying to sound calming. Trying not to let his voice shake.
487630982 turned his head to look at him, his pale blue eyes seethed with fury. Wait, hadn't his eyes been nearly black before? “Let me out of these bonds and go to damnation!” He shouted.
“I need you to talk to me, otherwise both of us will likely be executed.” Nikolas tried to keep the fear out of his voice as he said it.
487630982 seemed to force himself to take a deep breath before speaking again, “Just you. I don't want those...things anywhere near me.”
Nikolas looked to the Space marine and Genetor.
“Let him try. I would learn if there are more like this one.” The Genetor as he moved towards the door, towing the Space Marine with it. It wouldn't matter, they'd be listening and could blow the whole room with a series of Demolition charges.
“Syl, make sure they're gone.” 487630982 said, apparently to the air.
“Wha...” Nikolas started before being interrupted by the man.
“Wait.” he said. It sounded like he was used to giving orders and Nikolas obeyed reflexively. Maybe ten seconds when by before he nodded to the air and spoke again. “Can they hear us?” He whispered.
Nikolas' brows furrowed, “Of course they can. You didn't really think they'd just leave if they couldn't.”
“I guess not.” 487630982 sighed, then launched into a series of questions. “Were is this? How did I end up here? Was anyone else with me?” He asked the questions so quickly it almost sounded like one long word, and visibly forced himself to stop.
“You're on Phantine, Sabbat sector.” Nikolas answered the easiest question first, giving the man the name of the planet and it's sector in the Segmentum Pacificus.
“I have no idea what either of those things are.” He said, giving Nikolas a flat look.
“Look, I'm supposed to be asking you questions. If you want a chance of getting out of here you need to answer me.” The flat look turned into a glare, but 487630982 nodded.
“Alright.” Nikolas nodded, “Let's start with the easy ones. Who are you, were are you from?”
“My name is Kaladin, I'm a solider under Dalinar Kholin, High Prince of Alethcar.”
Nikolas nodded, likely there was a servitor searching imperial records for the names that 48763...that Kaladin had given. Nikolas continued to question the man, who didn't seem to know much about what happened to him. He spoke of 'the cognitive realm', the warp maybe? Of strange powers that Nikolas had never heard of, most didn't seem like things he'd heard of Psykers doing. It seemed he had been with a couple other people before he'd woken up here. Nikolas questioned the man for a little more than half an hour before the grey clad Space Maine entered the room again.
“487630982.” He said, a Bolter pointed straight at Kaladin's head. “Show me these...powers.”
Kaladin looked at the air to one side, seemingly listening to something before nodding once. “Will it get me out of here?” He asked, glaring daggers at the Marine.
“I might not kill you.” Was the only response.
Kaladin grimaced and stretched his hand out looking at Nikolas. Nikolas took his hand. Kaladin screamed as he breathed in and began glowing faintly, then Nikolas stated to glow. There was a blur for a moment, it felt like he fell and the next thing he knew, Nikolas was standing up from where he'd fallen...on the ceiling.
The Space Marine cocked his head slightly, helmet scraping against his pauldron. “Could you teach another Psyker to do this?”
Kaladin raised an eyebrow, “I don't know what these Psykers are, but I'm not one of them. I'm a Knight Radiant, a Windrunner, Only another Radiant can use these powers.”
The Marine seemed to consider his words before speaking again. “The healing then. Explain that.”
“I can't. I breathe in Stormlight and it just...heals me.”
“Stormlight.” The marine said flatly and held out one of his hands, the other still pointing the bolter at Kaladin. “Like this?” A writhing mass of...something appeared in his hand for a moment before vanishing.
“Um...maybe, kind of. Just, less pure evil.”
Reddin stalked his prey through Lympa. The girl seemed to b e wandering aimlessly through the hive city, drawing on a sketchbook as she went. He was more than a little curious about the girl, but that wouldn't be enough to waste this much time stalking her. No, she had the barring of a noble. She seemed to be a bit panicked, looking around in a combination of awe and confusion, occasionally talking to herself. This was good, he might be able to corner her and take whatever valuables she had without any trouble.
Oh, Reddin didn't mind trouble if it came to that. It just wasn't usually worth it when nobles were involved. They tended to have ways of getting revenge that was almost worse than just being killed. A simple robbery wouldn't be worth the effort for someone like that. So he followed, waiting for the right time to get his payday.
“Is he still following us Pattern?” Shallan asked in a half whisper.
The odd pattern on her skirt buzzed, shifting and moving around to the back of her skirt to look. “Yes!” he buzzed in a cheerful tone. “He makes a pattern! Not as subtle as the woman in the mask. Even you should be able to spot it.”
“I'm sure I could.” Shallan responded out of the corner of her mouth, “But don't want him to see me looking. Now, you're sure you can translate the language for me? I all sounds like gibberish to me.” Pattern simple hummed in accent.
Reddin had his chance. The noblewoman turned down an alleyway that would eventually lead down into the underhive. No one would be there, no witnesses.
Reddin drew his knife, he'd won it off an Imperial Guardsman a couple months back, and stepped quietly into the alley. His plan was simple, sneak up on the girl, threaten her with his knife, take her valuables, and get away. As long as she didn't scream he'd get off free. Even then, there was a fairly low chance of anyone coming to check it out.
He'd executed similar muggings dozens of times before, that was why he was so surprised when he stepped into the alley and found the girl hold a massive glowing sword right a his neck.
He raised his hands, dropping the knife. It was a good knife, he'd hate to leave it behind. “I'll, ah, I'll be going.
The girl said something in a language Reddin didn't understand, then a buzzing voice came from the sword, which started to subtly vibrate. “Move and I wish shove this Shard Blade straight through your through. That is what she said.” The girl spoke again, to the sword this time, which responded in the same language. After another few words from the girl the sword vibrated again. “You are going to help us, but first we have some questions.
Reddin had tried to run. The girl had made the sword vanish in a puff of mist and Reddin had figured that would be the best time to get out of this crazy situation. That had been a mistake. The sword reappeared and with a casual swing it had cut cleanly through his foot. A thin slit had been cut into the ground and half his shoe had been severed from the other half. His foot though, was still attached. He couldn't feel anything below were the sword had gone through his foot and the flesh had gone grey. He could probably still limp along on his heel, but he didn't dare they to get away less the girl cut through something else.
So he was stuck here, in an ally barely a stone-throw away from the underhive, answering a series of odd questions for an eccentric redheaded noblewoman who's words were translated by some kind of strange vibrating pattern that might be able to spontaneously turn into a massive sword.
So Reddin answered the woman's questions...for hours. Every question he answered seemed to spark a dozen new ones, some incredibly simple, some very complicated, others confusing, and many heretical. With all the time they were in the ally he was shocked that someone hadn't walked in. He almost wished someone would. At least then he might be able to get away, or at least have someone to share in his misery.
Jasnah was curious. This wasn't out of the ordinary, she was often curious. She was a scholar, and curiosity was what drove scholarship. Even after finding herself in this strange place she was more curious that frightened. Oh, she was certainly frightened, but the questions she had flying through her brain kept her distracted from the fear. Curiosity was something Jasnah was used to.
What Jasnah wasn't used to, was people. She had spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. Even Nevani, her mother, was kept at arms length. So when she was completely out of her depth when faced with her younger cousin having a panic attack.
“It's everywhere! War, death, destruction.” Renarin was on his knees, hands clutched to his head amid mottled blonde and black hair. “Plots, blood, disease, debauchery.”
“Calm down Renarin.” Jasnah knelt next to the young man, resting her gloved safe hand on his shoulder in a gesture of familiarity. “We know that what you see can be wrong. After all, you thought I was going to kill you.”
“It's not like that.” Renarin looked up, tears welling in his eyes, “That was one person. This...this is more. Jasnah it's everywhere, everything, everyone. More people and places than I could ever have imagined ever existing.” He let out a shaking breath, “Jasnah, what do we do?”
Jasnah tightened her hand on Renarin's shoulder, “I don't know Renarin, not yet. But we will not stand idly by”
There are a lot of character I want to include in this, both from the Cosmere and from 40k. I could spend a lot of time just showing the Cosmere characters arriving and getting their feet back under them. Because of how long that would take, I'm going to focus primarily on Kaladin and Shallan initially, with an occasional cut away to other characters. I will try to give a summary of how each character got to were they are once we see them in the story, but I won't waste a ton of time going over every detail.
Chapter 3: Still Alive
Kaladin sat on a cot in the small room he'd been given. The bed took up moist of the space, leaving barley enough room to stand. A small window was cut into the wall and Kaladin looked out into an infinite sky. As far as he'd been able to tell this world had no ground, only a layer of dark fog far below.
Syl floated by the window, looking out at the sky longingly. She looked mostly the same, a young woman clad in a girlish dress that faded to mist. She was the same pale blue color she'd always appeared above the level he knee would be, but the dress below that point faded to the red color of in infected wound.
Kaladin sighed. Syl didn't respond. Normally she would make some quip or remark when he did something like that. The fact that she didn't worried Kaladin almost as much as everything that had led up to this point.
“Syl...are you ok?” Kaladin asked hesitantly.
“I'm scarred Kaladin. This place is...wrong.” She turned her head to regard Kaladin, he eyes were wide and afraid.
“What could possibly be wrong about being in an unknown place, with insane people, and our friends nowhere to be found. Oh, and Stormlight makes the sound on a thousand tortured souls.”
Syl gave Kaladin a sad little smile, “Did you just call Adolin your friend?”
“I...Well I guess I did. After meeting those monsters maybe I'm starting to think that a stupidly dressed lighteyes isn't so bad.” Kaladin game Syl a smile that he didn't quite feel, but it seemed to lift her gloomy mood somewhat all the same.
“I'm still scared Kaladin. It feels like somethings trying to worm it's way into me, to change me into something...wrong.”
“But you can stop it right. You've managed to keep it out so far.” Kaladin felt a pang of panic, he wasn't sure what he'd do without Syl anymore, last time he'd lost her...He would have become the wretch again.
“I don't think so, it's not me keeping it out. I think you can, or we can.”
“You mean the bond?”
“Yes. Kaladin, if you break your oaths again...”
“I won't Syl. I won't kill you.”
“I don't think I'll die Kaladin. I think...I might become something like a...a void spren.” She whispered the last two words, like her words might give them substance. “I think that if I get too far away from you it might happen anyway.”
Kaladin felt his eyes go wide. Syl had been terrified of remembering what she was the first time, this would be worse. Could he stop it from happening. Could he really take this on his shoulders? Yes, he realized. “Syl, I swore to defend those who couldn't defend themselves. That includes you! I will defend you, Syl.”
Shallan sat on a wooden box, looking over the the man who's foot she had partially severed, Reddin. He had shown he to this series of rooms, almost like a small abandoned house. They were in a part of the metal city, in a place that the man apparently used as a hideout.
The scholar in Shallan wanted nothing more than to investigate this city, to find out how it was made and how it all worked. It was all one piece as far as she could tell, with sets of rooms connected to hallways. It made her think of Urithiru.
She couldn't focus on that right now though. First she'd have to survive, to learn were she was, and to find Adolin and Kaladin and anyone else from Roshar that had ended up here.
She turned to Pattern, who had taken a place on the wall beside her. His usual moving patterns were marred by the occasional sudden angle, on e more thing to investigate. “Can you translate?” She asked.
Pattern buzzed, “Yes!”
“Reddin, I need you to answer more questions.” She said, and Pattern repeated her words in the language of this place, Gothic Pattern had called it.
The man spoke and a moment later Pattern repeated his words in Alethi. “Fine, tell me what you want to know.”
“If I needed to find someone, who could I ask?”
“Go ask the Administatum, I'm sure they have records. They keep records of every toenail you clip off.” Shallan couldn't be sure, but his original tone may have suggested disgust with this Administratum.
“And what if I told you I didn't trust the Administratum?” She asked. She didn't know if she could trust them or not, but she figured it would be best to explore all her options.
“What, like they're in the underground? Ask one of the gangs, they'll find whoever it is...for the right price.”
Shallan sighed and drew out her sketchbook. She didn't have any money from this place or much to trade. Three large gemstones, but they still held stormlight. She was reluctant to give them up as long as the contained it. She might be able to draw in Stormlight from anywhere when she was here, but that Stormlight was wrong, tainted somehow. The Stormlight in her gems didn't have that property.
She gave a last look to Reddin and started drawing. A picture started to form, herself standing next to Adolin. Kaladin joined them, looking grumpily off to the side. Pattern came next, his head impossible geometries and his body a stiff robe, the form he wore in Shadesmar. Sylphrena came last, smiling and poking Kaladin in the side.
While she drew, she thought. Shallan needed to get information. Her options seemed to be this Administratum and the gangs. She doubted that she could get what she wanted through official channels, that left the gangs. She couldn't pay them, so she'd have to convince them to help he some other way. Veil could do that,and Radiant probably could too. But she couldn't become them, not now. Could Shallan do this? She'd have to.
A giant stood outside the door to Kaladin's small room. He stood easily as tall as a man in shard plate, was clad in a simple grey robe, and had a completely bald head. His eyes seemed to see through Kaladin, piercing his very soul. He was honestly surprised that the giant didn't seem to be able to see Syl.
“Subject 487630982, Kaladin. You will follow me.” He said, and began to walk off with long stides. He turned after two steps to look back at Kaladin, who hadn't moved. “Can you not understand?”
“I understand you just fine, but I don't see why I should follow you just because you tell me to.” Kaladin said, leaning against the door-frame and folding his arms over his chest.
The giant glared down at Kaladin, “You will follow. By order of the inquisition.” He dug into his robe and pulled out a scroll, letting it unroll for Kaladin to see. The scribbles looked simlar to the women's script, but Kaladin couldn't read it. Still, the wax seal affixed to the bottom looked official. Kaladin figured he should play along for now.
“Fine.”Kaladin said, moving to walk behind the giant man. “So, what's your name?” The giant ignored him. “Ok, were are we going?”
“You are to teach others how to use your Psyker power. Then you will explain what that Deaom sword is and it will be taken by the Inquisition.” He said it matter of factly, not asking for Kaladin's help. Besides, he wouldn't give them Syl even if he could..
Kaladin stopped in his tracks, light from the nearby window falling across his face. “No.” He said defiantly.
“It was not a request. I was telling you what will happen.”
“Storm off. I already told your surgeon, I can't. Even if I could I wouldn't tell you”
The giant loomed over Kaladin, his massive frame prommicing pain for anyone trying to fight him. Kaladin chose not to fight him. He reached out a hand and breathed in, the screams filled his mind and he screamed in turn, forcing the Stormlight into the giant and lashing him away. The screaming stopped as Kaladin forced the last of the Stormlight into the man, who fall backwards down the hall like it was a pit.
“Kaladin.” Syl said.
“Syl, I'm not letting them lock me in a room tied to a table again. I'm not...”Kaladin turned to face Syl, but noticed she wasn't looking at him or down the hall were the giant fell, but out the window. Kaladin stepped up to the window and looked out.
He saw some kind of floating metal chicken spiraling downwards with a trail of black smoke streaming from it's rear. Around it, armored men with small flaming wings were scattered, they held some kind of weapons that shot streaks of red light. Their target was what caught Kaladin's attention. A huge red monster with wings and a pair of wicked, and rather impractical Kaladin thought, looking battle-axes. It swooped down and bisected a pair of the armored men, their blood flying in massive spurts as they fell from the sky.
Kaladin's fist clenched. He didn't know what that thing was, but it was clear that them men were outmatched. They would be dead in a matter of moments.
“Kaladin.” Syl said, he voice pleading.
Kaladin could help, but the agony of using this realm's Stormlight.
I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Syl appeared in his hand as a Shardblade, mist forming along her legnth. He lifted her, ready to cut through the wall to get to those men. 'I don't even know who they are.' The thought passed unbidden into his mind.
I will protect even those I hate, so long as it is right.
Three cuts made an opening that Kaladin could fit through. He lashed the cut section outword and it flew into the sky. Kaladin gritted his teeth, the screams in his mind tearing at his sanity. He lashed himself through the opening at at the monster.
The sky was his again. Even with the screaming in his head the freedom he felt was euphoric.
Kaladin dodged around one of the armored men with a quick pair of lashings, dismissing them just after, leaving him streaking towards the beast again.
Syl formed into a spear in Kaladin's hand and he thrust her towards the monster, aiming for it's spine. One of the axes intercepted Syl, turning her aside as Kaladin flew past. He spun and canceled his lashing, replacing it with a half lashing upward, leaving him floating in place.
The red monster swooped around and started toward him, Axes held ready to strike and face in a rictus scream. The red streaks repeatedly his it's hide from the sides asnd behind, but it apeeared to take no notice.
Syl became a shield and he managed to catch the monster's axes, though the force of the blow forced Kaladin downwards ans the beast flew over him.
Kaladin lashed himself towards the monster as it began to turn to make another pass at him. Through the screaming in his mind, Kaladin realized something important. He was far more maneuverable than it.
Kaladin lashed himself up as it came at him. It flapped it's wings, gaining lift to follow after Kaladin. Kaladin fell upwards faster than the monster could and it passed under him, starting to loop.
Kaladin dismissed the lashing upwards, then lashed himself to the monster's back. He immediately started to fall towards it as it came down. It evened out, flying horizontally, but Kaladin was being pulled toward the beast. Syl formed into a spear and Kaladin slunged her into the monster's back.
Normally this would cause the target's eyes to burn as the Shard severed it's spine. This time, the monster burst into flames, dissipating into the air.
Kaladin couldn't hold his lashings anymore and let go of his Stormlight. His momentum carried him through the air as his vision when black. He was vaguely aware or one of his arms being caught, then the other, before his world faded to blackness.
Adolin was alive. He was surprised by this, after the wound to his gut and the subsequent...events had made him sure we was soon to be sent to the battlefield to fight for the Tranquiline Halls.
Adolin groaned and felt at his side. The was no wound at all, no blood, only skin. Something clicked in Adolin's head and he opened his eyes. He had been stripped down to his under-clothes. He sighed and it turned into another groan as he say up. He was in a huge hallway made of what looked like metal. A few people walked along nearby, but they seemed content to ignore him.
He held out his hand, waiting ten heartbeats for his Shardblade to form in his hand. It dropped into his waiting grasp, as soon as it did it started to scream.
Adolin quickly dismissed his Shardblade. What was that? It sounded like what his brother and the other Knights Radiant had described. Did that mean that he had somehow become a Radiant? Stormlight would have explained how he'd healed the wound so completely so quickly.
“If I am a Radiant, what order am I? Where's my spren? Have I ever said the Words?” Adolin spoke to his sword, at least he imagined he did, having dismissed it. “Life before Death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.” Surely he'd said them at some point. But he hadn't Said them.
He stood up and began to walk. He didn't know where he was or where he was going, but it felt better than just sitting nearly naked in the...hall? Street? He thought as he walked, what order was he? Could he create illusions like Shallan? That did feel like him. Fly, or fall the wrong way at least, like Kaladin? He thought back to the journey to Kolinar, hopefully that wasn't it. Was he like Renarin, a...Storms he couldn't remember all the names. He thought back to his time in Shadesmar, to the spren they'd met and to the woman with burned out eyes that was his Shardblade. She'd looked like...Cultivation Spren. Did that make him a...stupid names. A Cultivation...Solider. Sure he'd go with that until he could remember.
Kelsier looked out at the chaotic roiling energy that was all about him. It seemed to want to strike at him, but it fell short against some kind of invisible barrier. He spun, seeing the energy in all directions. Then his eyes settled on someone. “Saze!” He said, looking at his old friend standing in the circle of...not chaos. “Were are we?”
“I am glad you survived, too” He said, his Terris accent hadn't changed over the centuries. “To answer your question, we are in the cognitive realm, I think.”
“Saze, I've been to the cognitive realm. I've lived their longer than I have in the physical. This isn't the cognitive realm.”
“This is not our cognitive realm. Something had happened, one of the Shards has broken free and...torn a hole between The Cosmere, the place we live, and this place. It is...quite disturbing.”
“Ok.”Kelsier said slowly, trying to wrap his head around all this. “So what's the physical realm here like?”
“Worlds. More inhabited worlds than total worlds in The Cosmere. Many, many times more.” Sazed's normally calm demeanor was rattled. “We must search out any others from Scadreal, and The Cosmere as a whole, I think.”
“Ok, that's a good start. What after that? Can we bring them all back?”
“I do not know my friend, I do not know.” Sazed said, worry clear in his tone.