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January 21 - February 18, 2023
“In ancient days,” Jasnah said, “a man who brought peace to his kingdom was considered to be of great worth.
They kept their distance, hesitant, as if he were fragile. Or holy.
Somebody has to step forward and do what is right, because it is right.
‘Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.’ ”
Death comes, they whispered. Death comes to all. But life comes first. Cherish it.
“Didn’t you once tell me that you didn’t understand your own self?” “Well, yes.” “And yet you expect to be able to understand the exact workings of the Almighty?”
“You will find wise men in any religion, Shallan, and good men in every nation. Those who truly seek wisdom are those who will acknowledge the virtue in their adversaries and who will learn from those who disabuse them of error.
“It’s just another war. If they weren’t fighting one another, they’d find others to attack. It’s what we do. Vengeance, honor, riches, religion—the reasons all just produce the same result.”
“If I should die,” Dalinar said, “then I would do so having lived my life right. It is not the destination that matters, but how one arrives there.” “The Codes?” “No. The Way of Kings.” “That storming book.”
“The finest defense of character is correct action. Acquaint yourself with virtue, and you can expect proper treatment from those around you.”
“Strength before weakness. All men are weak at some time in their lives. The Radiant protects those who are weak, and uses his strength for others.
“Life before death,” he whispered. “Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.” The First Ideal of the Knights Radiant. He breathed in deeply, and a thick jolt of power shot up his arm. His muscles burned with energy, with the desire to move. The tempest spread within, pushing at his skin, causing his blood to pump in a powerful rhythm. He opened his eyes. Glowing smoke rose around him. He was able to contain much of the Light, holding it in by holding his breath. It’s like a storm inside me. It felt as if it would rip him apart.
“Put two men together, and they will find something to argue about. Gather them into groups, and one group will find reason to oppress or attack another. Now this. How do I protect them? How do I stop this from happening again?”
At times, it seems to me that to be human is to want that which we cannot have. For some, this is power. For me, it is peace.”
The prayer tied on his arm was simple. Three glyphs: wind, protection, beloved. A prayer to Jezerezeh—the Stormfather—to protect loved ones and friends.
“We’re their champions. Bridge forward!”
“It is time for us to fight,” he said, voice growing louder. “And we do so not because we seek the glory of men, but because the other options are worse. We follow the Codes not because they bring gain, but because we loathe the people we would otherwise become. We stand here on this battlefield alone because of who we are.”
We fight here because we understand. The end is the same. It is the path that separates men. When we taste that end, we will do so with our heads held high, eyes to the sun.”
THE WORDS, a voice said, urgent, as if directly into his mind. In that moment, Kaladin was amazed to realize that he knew them, though they’d never been told to him. “I will protect those who cannot protect themselves,” he whispered. The Second Ideal of the Knights Radiant.
Art was about creation. That was its soul, its essence. Creation and order. You took something disorganized—a splash of ink, an empty page—and you built something from it. Something from nothing. The soul of creation.
What was a prayer, if not creation? Making something where nothing existed. Creating a wish out of despair, a plea out of anguish. Bowing one’s back before the Almighty, and forming humility from the empty pride of a human life.
Something from nothing. True creation.
