Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive, #3)
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“Don’t panic,” he said. “It’s a good thing.” “It?” she said, growing alarmed. “Well, someone just arrived at the tower.” “Oh, that. Sebarial passed the news; the bridgeboy is back.” “Him? No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Adolin searched for words as voices approached, and several other people stepped into the room. At their head was Jasnah Kholin.
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The time of changes, when the men from the hidden island of the Origin at last came to reclaim Natanatan?
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They’ll come with Light in their pockets, Grandfather had said. They’ll come to destroy, but you should watch for them anyway. Because they’ll come from the Origin. The sailors lost on an infinite sea. You keep that fire high at night, Puuli. You burn it bright until the day they come. They’ll arrive when the night is darkest.
Jacob Wright
knights radiant?
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“Of course. An Elsecaller, Brightness. A thing you never explained; a word which no one but the most dedicated scholar of the esoteric would recognize! That explains it perfectly.”
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But maybe you don’t have good options! Maybe all the good men are dead, so all you have is me!
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“It’s how my master always did things,” Sigzil said, looking at his feet. “He’d tell a story anytime someone was confused, or when people were angry at him. And, well, it changed everything. Somehow.” He looked to Kaladin. “I suppose,” Kaladin said slowly, “that maybe you feel … like a moon.…” “No, not really.” It was about responsibility, but he had really not explained it well. Storms. Master Hoid had named him a full Worldsinger, and here he couldn’t even tell a story straight.
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“Did your master teach you to be that insensitive?” Kaladin eyed him. “I have a suggestion, sir,” Sigzil continued. “Try to understand what people want out of life, and respect that, rather than projecting onto them what you think they should—” “Shut it, Sig.” “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
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These were lesser gods, but still holy. He could see their true shapes beyond the streamers, a faint shadow of a larger creature at the bottom.
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“Did you … did you stick yourself to the ground?” Kaladin asked. “Just part of the plan, gon!” Lopen called back. “If I am to become a delicate cloud upon the sky, I must first convince the ground that I am not abandoning her. Like a worried lover, sure, she must be comforted and reassured that I will return following my dramatic and regal ascent to the sky.” “You’re not a king, Lopen,” Drehy said. “We’ve been over this.” “Of course I am not. I am a former king. You are obviously one of the stupid ones I mentioned earlier.”
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Kaladin folded the gemstone in Hobber’s fingers. “Just try,” the captain said softly. “Being a Radiant isn’t so much about your strength or skill, but about your heart. And yours is the best of all of us.”
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“You will visit with me someday!” Lunamor said. “You and all Bridge Four, as you are family now.” “Ground,” Lopen insisted, “I will still love you. I’m not attracted to anyone the way I am to you. Whenever I leave, I’ll come right back!” Kaladin glanced at Lunamor. “Perhaps,” Lunamor noted, “when that one is away from too much toxic air, he will be less…”
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He closed his eyes, kneading and humming his mother’s song to a beat he could almost, barely, just faintly hear.
Jacob Wright
more non parshmen with this emphasis on rhythm?
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You decide how you are defined. Don’t surrender that to them. They will gleefully take the chance to define you, if you allow it.”
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“Worst part is, she’s probably right,” Shallan said. “Around her, I do act more like a child. It’s like part of me wants to let her take care of everything. And I hate, hate, hate that about myself.” “Is there a solution?” “I don’t know.” “Perhaps … act like an adult?”
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The following letter explains the truth about your deceased brother, Nan Helaran, acolyte of the Radiant order of the Skybreakers.
Jacob Wright
OH MY GOD
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King Gavilar’s efforts to rekindle the Desolations are likely the true reason he was assassinated. Though there were many in the palace that night who had reason to see him dead.
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Reflected in the waters of the well, a face appeared over his shoulder. A woman with pale white skin, glowing faintly, and hair that hovered around her head like clouds.
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When he looked up, he found that spren standing in front of him. Teft … she whispered. You’ve spoken oaths.… Foolish, stupid oaths, spoken when he’d hoped that being Radiant would remove the cravings.
Jacob Wright
OH MY GOD
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“Your butt is too nice. Old guys shouldn’t have tight butts. It means you spend waaay too much time swinging a sword or punching people. You should have an old flabby butt. Then I’d trust you.” “She … has a thing about butts,” Yanagawn said. “No I don’t,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “If someone thinks I’m strange for talking about butts, it’s usually because they’re jealous, ’cuz I’m the only one without something rammed up mine.”
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The Stormfather rumbled in frustration. That woman! This is a creation specifically meant to defy my will!
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Veil wanted to spend her days drinking and laughing with the men, practicing espionage. Radiant wanted to practice with the sword and spend time around Adolin. What did Shallan want? And did it matter?
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Shallan cocked her head as she saw Renarin glance at his father. Dalinar responded with a raised fist. He came so Renarin wouldn’t feel awkward, Shallan realized. It can’t be improper or feminine for the prince to be here if the storming Blackthorn decides to attend. She didn’t miss the way that Renarin actually raised his eyes to watch the rest of the proceedings.
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“They tried to break me. Damnation, they did break me. But then he made me again, a new man.” Moash paused. “I threw it all away.” “Sure, sure,” Guff said. “I always do that,” Moash whispered. “Why must we always take something precious, Guff, and find ourselves hating it? As if by being pure, it reminds us of just how little we deserve it. I held the spear, and I stabbed myself with it.…”
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Did you expect anything else from us? We need not suffer the interference of another. Rayse is contained, and we care not for his prison.
Jacob Wright
i am so confused
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“Well, you have a chance, Lyn. A chance nobody has had for ages, a chance in millions. Either you seize it, and in so doing decide you’re worthy, or you leave and give up.” He pressed the gemstone back down into her hand. “But if you leave, you don’t get to complain. As long as you keep trying, there’s a chance. When you give up? That’s when the dream dies.”
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Something stirred deep within her. Glimmers of memory from a dark room, screaming her voice ragged. A childhood illness nobody else seemed to remember, for all it had done to her. It had taught her that people she loved could still hurt her.
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In my times of peace, however, my mind has always been the one thing I could rely upon.” Except once.
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Ivory was the only new-generation inkspren to form a Radiant bond.
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the honorspren—and therefore the Windrunners—would never return.
Jacob Wright
honorspren = windrunner inkspren = elsecaller cryptic = lightweaver
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“It’s your daughter,” Dalinar guessed. “Her lunacy.” “Jasnah is fine, and recovering. It’s not that.” Gavilar frowned, his expression dangerous.
Jacob Wright
??? is this what jasnah was talking about earlier?
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We also instruct that you should not return to Obrodai. We have claimed that world, and a new avatar of our being is beginning to manifest there.
Jacob Wright
i feel like i should know what this is
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This is all we will say at this time. If you wish more, seek these waters in person and overcome the tests we have created.
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“Then what does anger you? What is your passionate fury, Moash, the man with an ancient singer’s name?” Yes, it was there. Still burning. Deep down. Storm it, Kaladin had been protecting a murderer. “Vengeance,” he whispered.
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“I can train you with those,” Moash said. “Sticks?” Khen asked. “Spears,” Moash said. “I can teach you to be soldiers.
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Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed that sometimes they responded to certain rhythms.
Jacob Wright
the thrill has to be a rhythm
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“Yeah,” Lopen added. “Drehy likes other guys. That’s like … he wants to be even less around women than the rest of us. It’s the opposite of feminine. He is, you could say, extra manly.”
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“Honor? No, he truly is dead, as you’ve been told.” The old man’s smile deepened, genuine and kindly. “I’m the other one, Dalinar. They call me Odium.”
Jacob Wright
HOLY SHIT
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He looked to Dalinar. “Passion, Dalinar Kholin. I am emotion incarnate. I am the soul of the spren and of men. I am lust, joy, hatred, anger, and exultation. I am glory and I am vice. I am the very thing that makes men men.
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“Honor cared only for bonds. Not the meaning of bonds and oaths, merely that they were kept. Cultivation only wants to see transformation. Growth. It can be good or bad, for all she cares. The pain of men is nothing to her. Only I understand it. Only I care, Dalinar.”
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Odium patted him on the shoulder. “Take a minute, Dalinar. I’ll leave you here. Relax. It—” He cut off, then frowned, spinning. He searched the rocks. “What?” Dalinar asked. “Nothing. Just an old man’s mind playing tricks on him.” He patted Dalinar on the arm. “We’ll speak again, I promise.” He vanished in an eyeblink. Dalinar collapsed backward, completely drained. Storms. Just … Storms. “That guy,” a girl’s voice said, “is creepy.”
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She nodded, as if it were a compliment. “I’ll talk to Gawx. You got good food at that tower city of yours?” “We can prepare some for you.” “Yeah, I don’t care what you prepare. What do you eat? Is it good?” “… Yes?” “Not military rations or some such nonsense, right?” “Not usually.” “Great.” She looked at the place where Odium had vanished, then shivered visibly. “We’ll visit.”
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“This is the purpose of its creation. We cannot beat the enemy; so instead, we save whatever we can.” “The only way,” Taravangian agreed. Dalinar would never accept this fact. Only one man would be strong enough to make that sacrifice. Taravangian felt a glimmer of … something. Memory.
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Give me the capacity to save us. “Take this,” he said to Adrotagia, pulling down a sheet he’d annotated. “This will work.” She nodded, towing Mrall from the room as Taravangian knelt before the broken, ripped, sliced-up remnants of the Diagram. Light and truth. Save what he could. Abandon the rest. Thankfully, he had been given that capacity.
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A little spren that looked like a ball of light. Yes … she’d seen one of those near Eshonai. What was it?
Jacob Wright
is venli a radiant?? or like a parshman version of one instead of a fused
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A lesson. A display. Those words caught in his mind, and he found himself reaching back through his memories toward something still fuzzy, undefined. Something … something to do with the Rift and … and with Sadeas?
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Storms. Does everything I imagine have to be about destruction? About dying, broken bodies, smoke in the air and blood on the stones? The warmth inside of him said that it did not.
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“Have you ever considered, bridgeman, that bad art does more for the world than good art? Artists spend more of their lives making bad practice pieces than they do masterworks, particularly at the start. And even when an artist becomes a master, some pieces don’t work out. Still others are somehow just wrong until the last stroke.
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“You learn more from bad art than you do from good art, as your mistakes are more important than your successes. Plus, good art usually evokes the same emotions in people—most good art is the same kind of good. But bad pieces can each be bad in their own unique way. So I’m glad we have bad art, and I’m sure the Almighty agrees.” “All this,” Adolin said, amused, “to justify your sense of humor, Shallan?” “My sense of humor? No, I’m merely trying to justify the creation of Captain Kaladin.”
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“If I stretch a lie too far, people are more likely to be suspicious,” Shallan said lightly, then stepped over to the king. “Your Majesty, you’re going to be a woman.”
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“I wasn’t speaking of you, Captain,” the king said quietly. “I was referring to my own limitations. When I fail this city, I want to make sure you are there to protect it.” Kaladin looked away, ashamed. Had he really just been thinking of how selfish this man was? “Your Majesty…” “No,” Elhokar said firmly. “This is a time to be realistic. A king must do whatever he can for the good of his people, and my judgment has proven … deficient. Anything I have ‘accomplished’ in life has been handed to me by my father or my uncle. You are here, Captain, to succeed when I fail. Remember that. Open the ...more