I will not speak on the relationship of Roshar’s divergent ecology here, as that is a topic too large to address in a simple survey such as this one. However, travelers to the planet should be made aware of the storms. Life on Roshar has been shaped over millennia by massive, Invested storms, which pose a danger that cannot be overstated.

These storms, by my best guess, predate the arrival of the Shards Honor and Cultivation—as do many of the spren. However, the presence of the Shards molded and transformed the planet’s nature to the point that it is difficult to distinguish what is pre-Shattering in origin, and what is a newer development. Surely, many of the spren that now exist on the planet have arisen from the friction between Honor, Cultivation, and Odium.

Odium. Be aware that this system is the current habitation of the Shard of Odium on the Physical and Cognitive Realms. This Shard undoubtedly caused the Splintering of Devotion, Dominion, Honor, and perhaps others throughout the cosmere.

Visitors to Roshar should know that fire will respond unusually because of the high-oxygen environment, which I believe is part of the reason that an alternative light source was developed during the early days of humanoid life on the planet. Be aware that lengths and times mentioned in essays and stories about the world usually use local measurements. A Rosharan year is longer than cosmere standard, and a Rosharan foot is larger than cosmere standard. It is difficult not to feel very small, at times, on this domineering, majestic tempest of a planet.

Edgedancer

EDGEDANCER

This story takes place after and contains spoilers for Words of Radiance.

Chapter 1

1

LIFT prepared to be awesome.

She sprinted across an open field in northern Tashikk, a little more than a week’s travel from Azimir. The place was overgrown with brown grass a foot or two high. The occasional trees were tall and twisty, with trunks that looked like they were made of interwoven vines, and branches that pointed upward more than out.

They had some official name, but everyone she knew called them drop-deads because of their springy roots. In a storm, they’d fall over flat and just lie there. Afterward they’d pop back up, like a rude gesture made at the passing winds.

Lift’s run startled a group of axehinds who had been grazing nearby; the lean creatures leaped away on four legs with the two front claws pulled in close to the body. Good eating, those beasties. Barely any shell on them. But for once, Lift wasn’t in the mood to eat.

She was on the run.

“Mistress!” Wyndle, her pet Voidbringer, called. He took the shape of a vine, growing along the ground beside her at superfast speed, matching her pace. He didn’t have a face at the moment, but could speak anyway. Unfortunately.

“Mistress,” he pled, “can’t we please just go back?”

Nope.