It seemed that everybody knew something about the Voidbringers. People in rural areas spoke of them as mysterious creatures that came out at night, stealing from the unlucky and punishing the foolish. Those Voidbringers seemed more mischievous than evil. But then there would be the odd story about a Voidbringer taking on the form of a wayward traveler who-after receiving kindness from a tallew farmer-would slaughter the entire family, drink their blood, then write voidish symbols across the walls in black ash.

Most people in the cities, however, saw the Voidbringers as spirits who stalked at night, a kind of evil spren that invaded the hearts of men and made them do terrible things. When a good man grew angry, it was the work of a Voidbringer.

Scholars laughed at all these ideas. Actual historical accounts-the ones she could find quickly-were contradictory. Were the Voidbringers the denizens of Damnation? If so, wouldn't Damnation now be empty, as the Voidbringers had conquered the Tranquiline Halls and cast out mankind to Roshar?

I should have known that I'd have trouble finding anything solid, Shallan thought, leaning back in her chair. Jasnah's been researching this for months, maybe years. What did I expect to find in a few hours?

The only thing the research had done was increase her confusion. What errant winds had brought Jasnah to this topic? It made no sense. Studying the Voidbringers was like trying to determine if deathspren were real or not. What was the point?

She shook her head, stacking her books. The ardents would reshelve them for her. She needed to fetch Tifandor's biography and return to their balcony. She rose and walked toward the room's exit, carrying her lantern in her freehand. She hadn't brought a parshman; she intended to carry back only the one book. As she reached the exit, she noticed another light approaching out on the balcony. Just before she arrived, someone stepped up to the doorway, holding aloft a garnet lantern.

"Kabsal?" Shallan asked, surprised to see his youthful face, painted blue by the light.

"Shallan?" he asked, looking up at the index inscription atop the entry-way. "What are you doing here? Jasnah said you were looking for Tifandor."

"I…got turned around."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Bad lie?" she asked.

"Terrible," he said. "You're two floors up and about a thousand index numbers off. After I couldn't find you below, I asked the lift porters to take me where they brought you, and they took me here."

"Jasnah's training can be exhausting," Shallan said. "So I sometimes find a quiet corner to relax and compose myself. It's the only time I get to be alone."

Kabsal nodded thoughtfully.

"Better?" she asked.

"Still problematic. You took a break, but for two hours? Besides, I remember you telling me that Jasnah's training wasn't so terrible."

"She'd believe me," Shallan said. "She thinks she's far more demanding than she is. Or…well, she is demanding. I just don't mind as much as she thinks I do."

"Very well," he said. "But what were you doing down here, then?"

She bit her lip, causing him to laugh.

"What?" she demanded, blushing.

"You just look so blasted innocent when you do that!"

"I am innocent."

"Didn't you just lie to me twice in a row?"

"Innocent, as in the opposite of sophisticated." She grimaced. "Otherwise, they'd have been more convincing lies. Come. Walk with me while I fetch Tifandor. If we hurry, I won't have to lie to Jasnah."

"Fair enough," he said, joining her and strolling around the perimeter of the Palanaeum. The hollow inverted pyramid rose toward the ceiling far above, the four walls expanding outward at a slant. The topmost levels were brighter and easier to make out, tiny lights bobbing along railings in the hands of ardents or scholars.

"Fifty-seven levels," Shallan said. "I can't even imagine how much work it must have been for you to create all this."

"We didn't create it," Kabsal said. "It was here. The main shaft, at least. The Kharbranthians cut out the rooms for the books."

"This formation is natural?"

"As natural as cities like Kholinar. Or have you forgotten my demonstration?"

"No. But why didn't you use this place as one of your examples?"

"We haven't found the right sand pattern yet," he said. "But we're sure the Almighty himself made this place, as he did the cities."

"What about the Dawnsingers?" Shallan asked.

"What about them?"

"Could they have created it?"

He chuckled as they arrived at the lift. "That isn't the kind of thing the Dawnsingers did. They were healers, kindly spren sent by the Almighty to care for humans once we were forced out of the Tranquiline Halls."

"Kind of like the opposite of the Voidbringers."

"I suppose you could say that.

"Take us down two levels," she told the parshman lift porters. They began lowering the platform, the pulleys squeaking and wood shaking beneath her feet.

"If you think to distract me with this conversation," Kabsal noted, folding his arms and leaning back against the railing, "you won't be successful. I sat up there with your disapproving mistress for well over an hour, and let me say that it was not a pleasant experience. I think she knows I still intend to try and convert her."

"Of course she does. She's Jasnah. She knows practically everything."

"Except whatever it is she came here to study."

"The Voidbringers," Shallan said. "That's what she's studying."

He frowned. A few moments later, the lift came to a rest on the appropriate floor. "The Voidbringers?" he said, sounding curious. She'd have expected him to be scornful or amused. No, she thought. He's an ardent. He believes in them.

"What were they?" she asked, walking out. Not far below, the massive cavern came to a point. There was a large infused diamond there, marking the nadir.

"We don't like to talk about it," Kabsal said as he joined her.

"Why not? You're an ardent. This is part of your religion."

"An unpopular part. People prefer to hear about the Ten Divine Attributes or the Ten Human Failings. We accommodate them because we, also, prefer that to the deep past."

"Because…" she prodded.

"Because," he said with a sigh, "of our failure. Shallan, the devotaries-at their core-are still classical Vorinism. That means the Hierocracy and the fall of the Lost Radiants are our shame." He held up his deep blue lantern. Shallan strolled at his side, curious, letting him just talk.

"We believe that the Voidbringers were real, Shallan. A scourge and a plague. A hundred times they came upon mankind. First casting us from the Tranquiline Halls, then trying to destroy us here on Roshar. They weren't just spren that hid under rocks, then came out to steal someone's laundry. They were creatures of terrible destructive power, forged in Damnation, created from hate."

"By whom?" Shallan asked.

"What?"

"Who made them? I mean, the Almighty wasn't likely to have 'created something from hate.' So what made them?"

"Everything has its opposite, Shallan. The Almighty is a force of good. To balance his goodness, the cosmere needed the Voidbringers as his opposite."

"So the more good that the Almighty did, the more evil he created as a by-product? What's the point of doing any good at all if it just creates more evil?"

"I see Jasnah has continued your training in philosophy."

"That's not philosophy," Shallan said. "That's simple logic."

He sighed. "I don't think you want to get into the deep theology of this. Suffice it to say that the Almighty's pure goodness created the Voidbringers, but men may choose good without creating evil because as mortals they have a dual nature. Thus the only way for good to increase in the cosmere is for men to create it-in that way, good may come to outweigh evil."