The Sorceress and her murderous pet cat parted the sea of guards and stood before us, gloating. She and her ilk seemed to have found another backwater planet to conquer. Her pearlescent skin glistened as she leaned down to look at the rope that fuzzed into the ground where the cognitive anchor had landed after our tête-a-tête and said, “Let me tell you a story about a foolish jester who didn’t follow the rules and was going to be swiftly snuffed out of existence, crushed into a thousand itty-bitty pieces by the most beautiful and wise Elantrian in the Cosmere.” A short story like that with an obvious moral and no nuance? Supreme torture to anyone with a pulse. If the sorceress had her way, an opportunity for her threat of true disassociation may soon arrive. However, what she did not notice in her perusal is that the cognitive anchor had given the rocks below a few ideas and the ground beneath her illustriousness and our scholarly debate soon came up to meet us in the form of a boulder with a few things to say.