My Wonderful World

"This story," Wit said, "is a meaningless one. You must not search for a moral. It isn't that kind of story, you see. It's the other kind of story." The Cryptic held up a flute, and Kaladin recognized it. "Your flute!" he said. "You found it?" "This is a dream, idiot," Wit said. "It's not real." "Oh," Kaladin said. "Right." "I'm real!" the Cryptic said with a musical, feminine voice. "Not imaginary at all! Unfortunately, I am irrational! Ha ha!" She began to play the flute, moving the fingers along it - and while soft music come out, Kaladin wasn't certain what she was doing to produce the sounds. She didn't have lips. "This story," Wit said, "is called 'The Dog and the Dragon.' " "The ... what and the what?" Kaladin said. "Or is this not the part where I speak yet?" "You people," Wit said. "A dog is a...

Shallan closed her eyes, smiling, remembering the last time she’d seen a play at her father’s. A traveling children’s troupe come to entertain her. She’d taken Memories for her collection—but of course, that was now lost at the bottom of the ocean. “The Girl Who Looked Up,” she whispered. “What?” Pattern asked. Shallan opened her eyes and breathed out Stormlight. She hadn’t sketched this particular scene, so she used what she had handy: a drawing she’d done of a young child in the market. Bright and happy, too young to cover her safehand. The girl appeared from the Stormlight and scampered up the steps, then bowed to Pattern. “There was a girl,” Shallan said. “This was before storms, before memories, and before legends—but there was still a girl. She wore a long scarf to blow in the wind.” A vibrant red scarf grew around the girl’s neck, twin tails extending far behind her and flapping in a phantom wind. The players had made the scarf hang behind the girl using strings from ...