Excerpts Wind and Truth Read Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson: Interludes 3 and 4 Read new chapters from the new Stormlight Archive book every Monday, leading up to its release on December 6th By Brandon Sanderson | Published on December 2, 2024 Comment 1 Share New Share Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large. Reactor serialized the new book until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment went live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post in the Wind and Truth index. We’re thrilled to also include chapters from the audiobook edition of Wind and Truth, read by Michael Kramer and Kate Reading. Click here to jump straight to the audio excerpt! Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed. Interlude 3: El El, who had no title, stepped up to the Kholinar palace vault. Four Regal singers had been placed there as guards—a position of honor. Hopefully they would not fall too far after this. “You will open the vault for me,” El said to no rhythm. They didn’t question. That pleased him, as he never liked to kill mortals who served well. Their emotions did them credit. Still, he’d assumed they would know not to obey orders from him. He’d thought the Nine would have made that clear the moment he was reborn, but they were distracted with their war. So, unwitting, the four Regals hummed to Subservience, unlocked the doors, and opened them for him, bowing. When he entered, their leader—an envoyform—hurried in after. “I am to accompany all who enter, great one,” the Regal said, bowing again. “Pardon my intrusion.” “What is your name?” El asked. “Heshual,” the Regal said. “One of our names,” El said, strolling through the small chamber—which someone had begun to line with aluminum sheets. “What was your name before?” “It was… Govi, great one.” “Do you miss your old name?” “No?” the Regal said. “So timid,” El said to no rhythm. “You were passionate enough to become a Regal in this Return?” “I…” Heshual hummed to Tribute, which was a ridiculous rhythm to use for this exchange. El picked through the room, ignoring stores of gemstones, seeking a specific item. He stoked his annoyance, cherished it as all emotions should be. He did not channel it at this Regal, however, for El understood the reason for the timidity. “It is all right,” El said. “I assume one Fused noticed your passion and put you up for elevation—but since then, others have reprimanded you for standing up for yourself. Now you don’t know the proper way, because society is in shambles and my kind refuse to be proper role models.” The Regal hummed to Craving. A sign of agreement, and wanting more treatment like this. He got that rhythm right. “My kind wear thin, like shoes walked upon for too many miles,” El said softly. “My honor was stripped in part because I warned of the signs. We cannot rule much longer.” He found what he was seeking at last, on a shelf near the back of the vault: a specific gemstone, still attached to its dagger. Jezrien’s prison. El took it off the shelf, reverent. “Be careful, great one,” the Regal said. “That is a dangerous weapon.” “Oh, I know,” El said, taking one of the new anti-Stormlight gemstones from his pocket. He lifted it up, appreciating Raboniel’s handiwork. Then he touched it to the tip of the dagger, which pulled the anti-Light out and sent it into the gemstone prison. “Great one!” the Regal said. “That will… That…” El held up the gemstone, where a Herald’s soul had been trapped. It flashed as anti-Light met Light, and Jezrien was at long last destroyed. Not much of an explosion; barely enough to crack the gemstone. There hadn’t been much of Jezrien left. Now even that was gone. Forever. “Goodbye, old friend,” El whispered to no rhythm. Then he looked at the Regal, who gaped at him, horrified, fearspren appearing at his feet. “That imprisonment,” El said, tossing the dagger away, “is a punishment none deserve. We shame ourselves by trapping, instead of destroying, a Herald.” He held up his anti-Light gemstone, still almost full. “Yes, you were already nearly gone, weren’t you, old friend? The prisons don’t work on humans as well as was thought…” The poor Regal was cycling through rhythms like a person beset with madness. The soul of a trapped Herald had been by far the most valuable thing in the vault. “You should run to the Nine right now,” El suggested. “If you are quick, they might not punish you. The fault is theirs for not warning you about me. And perhaps I bear some fault. For being me. Naturally.” The Regal scrambled away, calling for the other three to watch El and not let him leave. Fortunately for them, he had no wish to depart. He settled down on a bench at the side of the chamber, wondering at the way many had changed names. Was that a glorious recovery of their ancient roots? Or a betrayal of the culture they’d possessed in the absence of the ancients? Before more guards arrived, he felt a presence overshadow him. Odium. What have you done, servant? the familiar voice said, vibrating El through his gemheart. An act of treason by one of the Fused? El did not reply. He considered that voice. It was almost right. Well? Odium said. “I see you,” El replied softly with no rhythm. “I know you for what you are. And what you are not.” The old Odium had come to hate being challenged. Perhaps that was why the Fused were so erratic—after thousands of years trapped on Braize, unable to fulfill his plans, their god had become erratic first. The new Odium pondered. Who are you? Ah… I see. Yes, curious. I had not paid enough attention to you, El. “Do you have his memories, then?” El asked. I can view them if I desire, though I do not see why you would name Jezrien a friend, yet destroy his spirit. “In all your divine wisdom,” El said, “you cannot imagine a situation where a friend deserves to die?” The new Odium laughed. A legitimately joyful-sounding chuckle. Curious. In a blink, he appeared beside El and waved a hand, slamming the vault door to lock out approaching guards. This Odium was human, elderly, and did not care to make himself larger than El to intimidate him. That was more than curious. That was impressive. “I have a problem,” Odium said. “Would you help me solve it?” “As a test?” El asked. “Or a legitimate need?” “Let it be both,” Odium said, strolling through the vault, studying objects one at a time. He wore the enveloping clothing many humans preferred—covering most of the body, never letting skin or carapace through. A way to display the ornamentation of skilled labor. “I would hum to Subservience,” El said, “if I had rhythms still.” “I will accept that,” Odium said. “I have a plan to capture the entire world, and am confident in my ability to secure Thaylenah and Shinovar. As for Azir, my predecessor left an army that had been heading toward Lasting Integrity, which I was able to turn. It lacks Fused, and now lacks surprise, but I think it should be sufficient to claim Azimir. But the Shattered Plains trouble me.” “I believe,” El said, “you have sent great numbers of Fused to the location.” “Is that odd of me?” Odium asked, pausing beside a stack of gemstones, each large as a fist, on a shelf. “I have been told,” El said, “that the term to use with a divinity is not ‘odd,’ but ‘inscrutable.’ ” Odium smiled again. He tapped each gemstone in turn, and they glowed with Voidlight—soft purple-on-black. “If you have sent so many Fused,” El continued, “and continue to worry—then I’d ask what is so important about a wasteland. Thaylenah is a trading hub, important for controlling the seas. Azir is the seat of an empire, and of great cultural and scientific development in this era. Both greater prizes. Both facing lesser armies. “One might guess this is about proximity. For example, getting those Fused to Azimir in time might be impossible. And you are confident in your plan for Thaylenah. So a reasonable person might assume that you sent the Fused to the only remaining location of note.” “Are you reasonable, El?” “Rarely.” Once again Odium smiled. “I would like to bring further forces to support the Shattered Plains. How would you do this?” “How much of a cost am I to assume I’d be willing to pay?” “A steep one.” “Then you already know the answer,” El said. “As the solution is a part of you.” “Dai-Gonarthis is dangerous to unleash,” Odium said. “Despite that,” El said, “if you require an Elsegate, she is the sole option—unless you have access to corrupted Elsecallers or a proper Honorblade.” “I have neither yet,” Odium said as he walked back to El. “You have traveled with the Black Fisher before.” “Yes,” he said. “Most of the lands you’d want are still protected from her touch, but Natanatan… Perhaps. You would need a strong source of Investiture on either side. And someone to lead your armies.” Odium studied him. “I see you, El, for what you are not. And for what you are.” El bowed his head. “If you serve me,” Odium said, “you may need to kill more of your… former friends.” “My friends had their chance. When left on this world, they enslaved my people. The Heralds deserve annihilation. It is… a mercy.” Odium nodded. “I dub you—” “No titles. Please.” Odium hesitated, and El saw danger in his expression. So, he was not immune to the rage, and being cut off by someone much lesser crossed a line. A worthy experiment. “Very well,” Odium said. “I name you ruler, with no title. You will take leadership of my armies to assault the Shattered Plains. Travel to the Peaks via shanay-im, and I shall send Dai-Gonarthis to you. Use her… particular talents to take the garrison at the Peaks, and claim the Shattered Plains in my name. I will pay her price another time.” This left many things unsaid. Why Odium was so interested in the Shattered Plains. How he knew that there would be enough power to Connect them to the well at the Horneater Peaks. The solution to both unsaid questions was likely the same. El again bowed his head. “The Nine will not care for my elevation.” “And what are your thoughts on the Nine?” “I think of them little, and when I do, I think little of them. Master.” “Then they report to you, El. Help me claim this world.” “If I do, can I rule human lands for you?” “If that is your wish, I will grant it.” Excellent. El bowed. “I will not fail, lest I be destroyed.” “El, I do not throw people away for failure, unless it came about by their negligence. Adopt this policy. Even in failure, it is often not the tool, but the wielder, who is at fault.” The god began to fade, evaporating to dark mist. His voice lingered. “We have much work to do. Not just on one world, but many.” Fascinating. El had walked in here expecting imprisonment, probably execution and forced rebirth. Instead it seemed he was leaving with an army, a promise, and a new god who might at last be able to conquer the entire cosmere. What an enchanting day. In his head, he began to compose a poem to celebrate this new god he was delighted to worship. Someone who, he suspected, would know the value of what he had—and would let El help humankind finally realize their true passions. He put Jezrien’s former prison back on the shelf, then tossed his anti-Stormlight gemstone into the air and caught it again while walking to the doorway, enraptured at the thought of how the Nine would react. Interlude 4: The Wrong Lesson Taravangian could save them. All of them. He strode, unseen, through Kholinar, now capital of a growing singer civilization. He could see this whole land, and knew its new leaders were not perfect. In that, they were no worse or better than the humans; while many of their policies were more egalitarian, this was also a people who had been enslaved. He felt their complicated emotions, both wanting to be better than their slavers and being enraged at what had been done to them, sometimes lashing out. That rage was his greatest resource. With it, he would bring order to the entire cosmere. He held his hands to the sides, feeling the rhythms of the crowds who passed him, unable to see their god. He was still the one divided: a mind that wanted to plan, a heart that fought against that calculating coldness. Right now, the heart wanted to simply accept peace. But it could not abandon Alethkar, not after all the work these singers had done to claim it and build a home. It was theirs. They deserved it. That was the logic speaking. People were in pain. He could retreat his singers to Jah Keved, and there be content. Jah Keved had basically no armies. How would he bring order to the cosmere without armies? Did he have to? Yes. He did. Back and forth, back and forth. He partially wondered if this was the reason Cultivation had positioned him to be elevated—in giving him his curse and boon for so long. To create a person who could legitimately Connect to the power of Odium and take it, but one who would then be made impotent by the two warring sides within. He thought of her, and she appeared. Cultivation had not given up on him, and would not do so easily. Together they stood in the center of a major thoroughfare—palanquins lumbering past, laborers hurrying by in clumps, tradesmen shouting out wares. Human and singer living together in a delicate balance. Uncertain, like the one inside him. “Would you like to see?” she said. “What I can show you?” He calmed his rage at her. Wisdom dictated that if she wished to give him something, he should at least witness it. He nodded. She led him to gaze upward, toward stars only they could number. He stood rooted on Roshar—he could not visit these places, but he could see them. With her help, he was given a new perspective on how she thought it should be, each Shard in their realm of influence, governing their own lands. “It does not have to be one god,” she said. “One solution will never work for all. That was part of why we had to do what we did, ten thousand years ago. Let them be, Odium.” He saw something different from what she wanted him to see. He saw that gods could indeed be afraid. Of him. The power of Odium, with his predecessor, had killed several of them. That version of him had been too brazen, and had left itself wounded in a clash. Taravangian could certainly do better. “Taravangian,” she said, “do not learn the wrong lesson. See.” He saw. Gods who turned away from him, content to let the danger stay trapped. Interestingly, they considered all three of the gods of Roshar to be a problem, and were happy to leave them to their conflict. This was perfect. Isolated as the others were, he could watch and prepare exactingly how to defeat each one. Only one of them held two Shards of power, but that one was unable to function properly. Odium’s predecessor had never taken a second Shard of power for that reason. These can be defeated, he thought, seeing the permutations of possibility. They will regret ignoring me. He kept his thoughts from Cultivation as she tried showing him peaceful nations on many planets. He instead was most curious about the fact that two of the Shards appeared to be missing, completely vanished from interacting with the others. Hidden. One he understood with some effort. But Valor—where had Valor gone, and how did she hide from even his eyes? The tour over, he and Cultivation pulled their focuses back down to Roshar. The greater cosmere was a part of Taravangian’s ultimate plans, and had to be. But for now, this people here—this world—had to be his everything. “You worry me, Taravangian,” Cultivation said as they stood unseen among the people of Kholinar. “If I can admit it, you always worried me. I knew what I had to do, but I wish it could have been any other.” “If there were not something to fear about the person you chose,” he said, “then they could not have taken up Odium.” “There is a chance, a solid one,” she said, “that you will do what is right. I would not have taken this step otherwise.” “You are correct,” he agreed. “I will do what is right.” “Do not be so smug,” she replied. “A part of you knows this path you’ve started on is a terrible one. Listen to that part of you. Give it a chance.” And… Despite himself, he did feel it. It was the part of Taravangian that loved his daughter and grandchildren. The part of him that had grieved when forced to manipulate Dalinar while trying to break up the coalition. It was the part of Taravangian that remembered being young, uncertain, dull—yearning to do more to help his people. That was the Taravangian who had been given the chance to have anything he wanted, and had wished for the capacity to stop the coming calamity. In a moment, Taravangian felt as if… as if he were that same man he’d been long ago. “Very well,” he said, turning from her. Not in shame—he would not accept that emotion now—but in… compromise. “I will try.” He was a god divided. What if he let each side rule in turn? Excerpted from Wind and Truth, copyright © 2024 Dragonsteel Entertainment. Join the Read-Along Discussion Here Find All the Excerpts Here Listen to Interludes 3 and 4 MacmillanAudio · Interludes – WIND AND TRUTH by Brandon Sanderson, narrated by Kate Reading and Michael Kramer Buy the Book Wind and Truth Brandon Sanderson Book Five of The Stormlight Archive Buy Book Wind and Truth Brandon Sanderson Book Five of The Stormlight Archive Book Five of The Stormlight Archive Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget The post Read <i>Wind and Truth</i> by Brandon Sanderson: Interludes 3 and 4 appeared first on Reactor.

It Might Be Cold Outside But the German Industrial Meltdown Heats Up

But we are still a way off.

New study confirms official accounts that the elephants were poisoned.

There are several other names that will trigger the strange error.

Cat-astrophe averted.

Whatever the Nebra Sky Disc was for, and however old it is, skilled metalworkers went to a great deal of effort to make it.

Ancient hand stencils in Spain were made before modern humans reached Iberia.

During the late 1980s and early 1990s, Belgium became a hotspot for UFO sightings, with reports of triangular-shaped crafts dominating headlines. Among the most iconic images from this period is a photograph taken in 1990 by mechanic Patrick Marechal, reportedly capturing a triangular UFO with three red lights. Widely circulated and analyzed, it was considered one of the most compelling UFO images of its time—until controversy unraveled its authenticity. The image, captured in Petit-Rechain near Liège, was initially lauded by UFO researchers. Marechal, using a Kodak Ektachrome camera, claimed to have taken two photos, though only one turned out. Analyses by experts, including Professor Marc Acheroy of the Royal Military School in Brussels, suggested the object was real and solid, photographed in flight. However, skeptics raised doubts, citing the possibility of a secret aircraft project or photographic manipulation. In 2011, Marechal admitted he fabricated the photograph using a Styrofoam model and flashlights. Demonstrating how he created the image, Marechal emphasized the ease with which convincing evidence could be staged. Yet, the story took another twist in 2024. Roger Stankovic, MUFON’s national director for Australia and New Zealand, shared screenshots of a conversation with Marechal. According to Stankovic, Marechal claimed he was paid to declare the photo a hoax to coincide with the release of journalist Leslie Kean’s book, which featured the image. Stankovic further alleged Marechal confirmed the photograph’s legitimacy. The debate reignited when journalist Steven Greenstreet criticized the image’s use in UFO discussions. Just weeks after being caught red-handed promoting a fake UFO photo (and claiming false things about it), Lue Elizondo is now promoting another fake UFO photo on his ?for-profit ?speaking tour. In 2011, the creator of the photo admitted it's a hoax. pic.twitter.com/QE48f9i9db — Steven Greenstreet ? (@MiddleOfMayhem) November 20, 2024 “The photo was debunked in 2011 by photographer Patrick Marechal. He did this to coincide with the publication of Leslie Kean’s book, which had a chapter and the photo in his book. I contacted him in 2022, when he told me he was paid a large sum of money to debunk the photo.” Stankovic countered, asserting the photograph was real and that Marechal’s confession was orchestrated. My communications with Patrick Marechal, the photographer of the Belgian Triangle UFO in 1990. He is using Google translate from French to English making a little hard to follow however, he clearly is stating that the photo is real, and he was paid to debunk it pic.twitter.com/GccWHVtziD — Roger Stankovic (@RogerStankovic) December 1, 2024 The post Author Of Famous ‘Belgian UFO’ Photo Says He Was Paid To Call It A Hoax appeared first on Anomalien.com.

Even for the shameless Joe Scarborough, this was shameless. Today's top story is, incontrovertibly, Joe Biden's pardoning of his son Hunter, and Ol' Joe having repeatedly lied in promising not to do so.  But on today's Morning Joe, Joe Scarborough was unwilling to describe the pardon as even one of the two top stories of the day, saying instead that numbers one and two were Trump's nominations of Kash Patel and Pete Hegseth. Jonathan Lemire hit the usual MSNBC notes. The Patel pick was "a nod to the extreme right-wing portions of Trump base, the Steve Bannon ultra-MAGA sector." Mika Brzezinski went along with Scarborough's lineup, also consigning the pardon story to third place.  A full 43 minutes into the hour, Mika teased the pardon segment, promising the show would be back from a commercial break in 90 seconds. But when Morning Joe returned--surprise!--no pardon talk, just more kvetching about Patel and Hegseth! Instead of leading with Biden's pardon and his lies about it, Scarborough buried the story 52 minutes deep into today's show. And even when he—finally— got around to the subject, the pusillanimous Scarborough didn't opine a peep about the pardon and Biden's lies about it, hiding behind his panelists who hashed it out. There was no outrage over the pardon or Biden's lying before the election that he wouldn't issue a pardon. There was merely pallid analysis of how the Justice Department felt about it, and how the Biden family was pained by the prosecutions.  At the end of the pardon segment, Scarborough couldn't resist circling back to his prized subject of the day, teeing up former Obama US Attorney appointee Joyce Vance to warn of the "dangers" of the Patel appointment. Scarborough's craven performance was presumably part of his effort to rehabilitate his reputation as a dependable toady of the liberal establishment, after having received harsh criticism in lib corners for his pilgrimage to Mar-a-Lago after the election to kiss the Trump ring. Jimmy Stewart, star of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, with its iconic filibuster scene, would have been impressed by Scarborough's 51-minute filibuster to put off a discussion of the Biden pardon.  Here's the transcript. MSNBC Morning Joe 12/2/24 6:00 am ET MIKA BRZEZINSKI: Republican Senator Mike Rounds of South Dakota, expressing his support for current FBI Director Christopher Wray, after Donald Trump announced over the weekend he will nominate loyalist Kash Patel to that position, one which shouldn't normally even be open for a nomination. We'll have the latest about that controversial selection from the President-elect. Also ahead, we'll dig into newly-surfaced allegations against Trump's pick for Defense Secretary, Pete Hegseth, as reports of whistleblowers have surfaced detailing years of troubling behavior. And we'll go to President Biden's pardon of his son Hunter, who is set to be sentenced later this month on federal tax evasion and gun charges. JOE SCARBOROUGH: We've got a lot of great guests straight ahead to talk about the two big stories this morning. One, of course, Kash Patel. Two, the breaking news overnight regarding Pete Hegseth--more information. We'll also get to the Hunter Biden pardon, later.   . . .  MIKA: Still ahead on Morning Joe, we're going to get to President Biden's controversial decision to issue a full and unconditional pardon to his son Hunter, and the swift reaction from Capitol Hill. We're back in 90 seconds. . . .  SCARBOROUGH: Joyce, before we let you go, I do want to ask you about your concern about Kash Patel possibly being the FBI Director. Again, a possibility. Donald Trump would have to fire Christopher Wray first, as he said, he wants to do. But then, he's talking about putting in somebody who has promised to jail judges, jail journalists, go after people inside the Justice Department who did not go along with the 2020 conspiracy theories about stolen elections. What are the dangers of putting in somebody that has promised us he's going to jail journalists if they didn't go along with the Stop the Steal conspiracy theory?