Chapter 115

SEVEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO

I , the Almighty, created art.

The unique tones of the planet harmonized with me and Kor. In this she had trouble, but I showed her the orderly nature of art—while she added a flair of unpredictability. Together we made the ground sing, and raised up incredible stone structures—beautiful sweeping vistas, rock made liquid until it froze into the shapes we’d imagined. Sounds sculpted from our joy.

I experienced her as our power mixed. Harmonizing.

“Stay here with me,” she said. “Continue to create.”

Rayse was moving again.

“Let him be,” she said.

“He will lead them all to destruction,” I said. “Every person on this planet, including the spren we made. Rayse will bleed them, turn them into his own army, send them into the cosmere to war.”

“We can take steps. Careful steps, quiet steps.”

Our tones became discordant. She never wanted to act directly. I needed to. Though I had an accommodation with Odium, it was only to prevent the worst—if I wanted to actually stop him, I needed to act against him, through my followers.

The people needed a god.

“You think,” I said, sensing Kor’s disappointment, “that Rayse is smarter than I am.”

“I think he is more ruthless,” she replied. “He gives power to the singers, creating those Fused, knowing you will respond—which will let him go a little further.”

“There are no other options ! ” I declared, possibilities spreading before me like paintings in motion. Her way led to so much loss. Peace at home, destruction abroad. “We cannot go too far,” I said to her. “Your wise limits on what we can give to our followers will prevent the planet from falling.”

“There are holes in that covenant. I know you have seen them.”

I had. If one of us were to die, then our followers would be able to draw power without being bound—as our will was what maintained the covenant. More, Rayse and I were not forbidden from clashing personally. If we did …

If he goaded me into it …

“I will not go that far,” I whispered to her. “Tell me I am wrong. Tell me that if I do not act, Rayse will not seek to destroy the cosmere.”

She could not deny it. Her way was often too safe, and she knew it. I sensed her acknowledgment, but also her pain.

“At least seek the help of the others,” she said.

So, at her wish, I reached out to them. The powerful Shards who ruled the cosmere, each in their own place. We had agreed not to interact, but all of us saw how silly that promise—made as mortals—was in the face of divinity. Our powers, though concentrated on planets and systems, swept through the entire cosmere. We could sense each other. All except a few—like Euridrius, holder of Reason—who had vanished. Or like Ambition, who had been destroyed.

I reached out to the others for help. The strong ones, the ones smarter than I. The heroes. Leras, known as Preservation, who had always had such a strong nature. Ati, perhaps kindliest among us, who had boldly taken up Ruin. Edgli, Endowment, who was the most compassionate woman I had ever known. Bavadin, shrewd and capable. Chan Ko Sar, Invention, who traveled the cosmere creating great marvels.

I sought them each in turn.

Each rejected me.

They were afraid of Odium—but he was bound on Roshar. A dangerous animal, now caged. They feared that any intervention would lead to his escape, and were willing to sacrifice Roshar to keep him contained.

I was not. I made one final attempt at locating Valor, the great dragon god Medelantorius—as she was a warrior who would surely join me. Medelantorius was not to be found, unfortunately. Had Odium killed her, as he had poor Aona ? Valor would not have died easily. I would doubtless have felt those waves of death ripple through the cosmere.

Defeated, I returned, determined to resist Odium a lone.

“Stay with me,” Kor whispered again. “This could destroy you.”

“I know,” I said. For I sensed my own potential fall in the permutations.

I went anyway.

I left her, knowing that in doing so I broke her heart. I perhaps marched to my death because I had told the people that I was their god. They were crying out to me, and my Honor insisted I respond.

I met the struggling humans in one of their tents, speaking with Ishar and others who had been allowed to Surgebind on Ashyn. They still carried the seeds of that ability within them, and their Connection to Odium was a pathway to binding a god—for we could not give of ourselves without exposing ourselves. I told these humans I could bestow their Surges again, if they were willing to obey and accept the rules I placed on them. They had already been thinking of ways to regain their powers, and Ishar had a plan. A good one, involving the distant world that could collect souls.

And thus we had an agreement. They swore to me, and I gave them the largest portion of myself that I would ever grant.

Giving birth to Heralds.