The Cosmere

Different worlds with hard-ish magic systems that are different. Yet each is a manifestation of the same underlying forces/rules across the Cosmere.

Whether it’s Stormlight, Ferruchemy, Metallurgy, etc. they’re all aspects of investiture.

Which means you get unique stories and challenges in the worlds but you also get the occasional cross of characters with one set of magic in another world of the Cosmere that has another.

And my personal favorite in the Cosmere is the Wax and Wayne series of Mistborn (books 3-7) where you have metal based magic in a Wild West like setting. So people who can manipulate metal using bullets from pistols in unique ways. Imagine all those fantasy novels with wizards… but centuries later as technology advances to the age of steam engine and firearms.

An excerpt from one of those books

Smoke curled in the air over the bandit boss’s pistol.

“Oh . . .” Wayne said softly. “You just made a bad mistake, mate. A very bad mistake.”

The boss turned away from the body, holstering his gun. “Fine,” he yelled, walking toward the door. “You can have some fun, boys. Burn it out of your blood quickly and meet me outside. Let’s—”

Everything froze. People stopped in place. The curling smoke hung motionless. Voices quieted. Whimpering halted. In a circle around Waxillium’s table, the air rippled just faintly.

Wayne stood up, shouldering his dueling canes, inspecting the room. He was placing each and every one of the bandits, Waxillium knew. Judging distances, preparing himself.

“As soon as I drop the bubble,” Wayne said, “this place is going to erupt like an ammunition store in a volcano.”

Waxillium calmly reached into his jacket and slid a hidden pistol from beneath his arm. He set it on the table. His twitch had vanished.

“Well?” Wayne asked.

“That’s a terrible metaphor. How would an ammunition store get into a volcano?”

“I don’t know. Look, are you going to fight or not?”

“I’ve tried waiting,” Waxillium said. “I gave them a chance to leave. I tried giving this up.”

“You gave it a good show, Wax.” He grimaced. “Too good a show.”

Waxillium rested his hand on the pistol. Then he picked it up. “So be it.” With his other hand, he poured out his entire pouch of steel into his wine cup, then downed it.

Wayne grinned. “You owe me a pint for lying to me, by the way.”

“Lying?”

“You said you hadn’t brought a gun.”

“I didn’t bring a gun,” Waxillium said, reaching to the small of his back and sliding a second pistol out. “You know me better than that, Wayne. I never go anywhere with only one. How much bendalloy do you have?”

“Not as much as I’d like. The stuff’s damn expensive here in town. I’ve got maybe enough for five minutes’ extra time. My metalminds are pretty much full, though. Spent a good two weeks sick in bed after you left.” That would give Wayne some healing power, should he get shot.

Waxillium took a deep breath; the coldness inside him melted away and became a flame as he burned steel that pinpointed each and every source of metal in the room.

For anybody interested in starting with a book that is in the Cosmere “Mistborn: The Final Empire” is a great starting point.