Edgedancer (The Stormlight Archive, #2.5)

by Brandon Sanderson

Lift prepared to be awesome.

That was basically the way to do it, right? Everyone else, they wound their branches together. Braced themselves. But Lift, she was a drop-dead. Don’t intertwine, don’t get caught up. Go your own way. Yes, that was definitely how she was. That was why she’d had to leave the palace, obviously. You couldn’t live your life getting up and seeing the same things every day. You had to keep moving, otherwise people started to know who you were, and then they started to expect things from you. It was one step from there to being gobbled up.

“We left because people started to know who I am. If you stay in the same place too long, then people start to recognize you. The shopkeepers learn your name. They smile at you when you enter, and already know what to get for you, because they remember what you need.” “That’s a bad thing?” She nodded, still staring at the sky. “It’s worse when they think they’re your friend. Gawx, the viziers. They make assumptions. They think they know you, then start to expect things of you. Then you have to be the person everyone thinks you are, not the person you actually are.”

She hadn’t dreamed, thankfully. She hated dreams. They either showed her a life she couldn’t have, or a life that terrified her. What was the good of either one?

“I can’t choose,” she whispered. “I don’t know how.” “Just pick one.” “I can’t. I don’t make choices, Wyndle.” “Nonsense! You do it every day.” “No. I just . . .” She went where the winds blew. Once you made a decision, you were committed. You were saying you thought this was right.

She stuck her tongue out at him. A totally rational and reasonable way to fight a demigod.