The Way of Kings (The Stormlight Archive, #1)

by Brandon Sanderson

Grump was last. He seemed very dissatisfied. “Where are you, Roamer? What a fool’s quest this is.” Then, he added in his own tongue, “Alavanta kamaloo kayana.” He splashed after his companions. “Well, you’ve got the ‘fool’ part right,” Ishikk said with a chuckle, turning his own direction and heading off to check on his traps.

This is Galladon using language from Sel (Elantris) Ishikk knows more than he's letting off

Szeth was accustomed to such pejorative labels. Though he was in his thirty-fifth year—and his seventh year since being named Truthless—his people’s large, round eyes, shorter stature, and tendency toward baldness led Easterners to claim they looked like children.

What would these men say if they knew that the man who emptied their chamber pot was a Shardbearer and a Surgebinder? A Windrunner, like the Radiants of old? The moment he summoned his Blade, his eyes would turn from dark green to pale—almost glowing—sapphire, a unique effect of his particular weapon.

szeths shardblade

that another cup of beer would prompt him to tell his greatest tale: that of the time when he’d seen the Nightwatcher herself and stolen a sphere that glowed black at night. That tale always discomforted Szeth, as it reminded him of the strange black sphere Gavilar had given him. He’d hidden that carefully in Jah Keved.

gavilars dark sphere szeth hid

Dalinar looked up. From this height, he could scan a large swath of the Shattered Plains, and he had an odd moment of familiarity. He felt as if he’d been atop this vantage point before, looking down at a broken landscape.

Lost city is low the shattered plains, hence dalinars déjà vu

The winds blew across Dalinar, returning with them that faint familiarity he’d felt a few minutes before. Standing atop a peak, looking out at desolation. A sense of an awful and amazing perspective. That’s it, he thought. I did stand atop a formation like this. It happened during— During one of his visions. The very first one. You must unite them, the strange, booming words had told him. You must prepare. Build of your people a fortress of strength and peace, a wall to resist the winds. Cease squabbling and unite. The Everstorm comes.

“Your Majesty,” Dalinar found himself saying. “I …” He trailed off as quickly as he began. What could he say? That he’d been seeing visions? That—in defiance of all doctrine and common sense—he thought those visions might be from the Almighty? That he thought they should withdraw from the battlefield and go back to Alethkar?

Gaz counted out four marks, though there were five days to a week. He handed them to Kaladin, but Kaladin left his hand open, palm forward. “The other one, Gaz.” “You said—” “Now.” Gaz jumped, then pulled out a sphere. “You have a strange way of keeping your word, lordling. You promised me …” He trailed off as Kaladin took the sphere he’d just been given and handed it back. Gaz frowned. “Don’t forget where this comes from, Gaz. I’ll keep to my word, but you aren’t keeping part of my pay. I’m giving it to you. Understand?”

“Yes,” she said. “That was sarcasm.” She cocked her head. “I know what sarcasm is.” Then she smiled deviously. “I know what sarcasm is!” Stormfather, Kaladin thought, looking into those gleeful little eyes. That strikes me as ominous.

“But, you arrived hours ago, then! What have you been doing? How could I have missed seeing you here?” “I had … things to be about,” Wit said. “But I couldn’t stay away from the hunt. I wouldn’t want you to lack for me.”

what was wit up to during the battle then?

They passed statues of the Heralds, five male, five female.

5 : 5 male female ratio

He holds the most frightening and terrible of all of the Shards. Ponder on that for a time, you old reptile, and tell me if your insistence on nonintervention holds firm. Because I assure you, Rayse will not be similarly inhibited.

Sweat streamed from his forehead, and the room seemed to grow just faintly darker. Or, no, more focused. Just him and the beasts. The only wind was that of his weapons spinning, the only sound that of his feet hitting the floor, the only vibration that of his heart thumping.

‘The girl’? Seeli, our daughter. And since when have you called me woman? Is Taffa so hard to say? Stormwinds, Heb, what has gotten into you?”

The Desolations had happened during the near-mythical shadowdays, before real history began. Before mankind had defeated the Voidbringers and taken the war to heaven. The Voidbringers. Was that what these things were? Myths. Myths come to life to kill him.

“It is Eighth Epoch, three thirty-seven.” Eighth Epoch? Dalinar thought. What does that mean? This vision had been different from the others. They had been more brief, for one thing. And the voice that spoke to him. Where was it? “Where am I?” Dalinar asked the knight. “What kingdom?” The knight frowned. “Are you not healed?” “I am well. I just … I need to know. Which kingdom am I in?” “This is Natanatan.” Dalinar released an inhaled breath. Natanatan. The Shattered Plains lay in the land that had once been Natanatan. The kingdom had fallen centuries ago. “And you fight for Natanatan’s king?” he asked. She laughed. “The Knights Radiant fight for no king

“The Desolation,” he said. “That means the Voidbringers, right? Those are what we fought this night?” The knight sniffed dismissively. “Voidbringers? These? No, this was Midnight Essence, though who released it is still a mystery.” She looked to the side, expression growing distant. “Harkaylain says the Desolation is close, and he is not often wrong.

who's this?

“At least tell me this,” Dalinar said, grasping for a specific question to ask. “I have trusted Highprince Sadeas, but my son—Adolin—thinks I am a fool to do so. Should I continue to trust Sadeas?” “Yes,” the being said. “This is important. Do not let strife consume you. Be strong. Act with honor, and honor will aid you.”

hint

“Other than Alethkar and Jah Keved, few kingdoms have many Blades.” It was a matter of some pride among the armies. “This thing is not true,” Rock said. “Thaylenah has five Blades and three full suits of Plate, all held by the royal guards. The Selay have their share of both suits and Blades. Other kingdoms, such as Herdaz, have a single Blade and set of Plate—this is passed down through the royal line. But the Unkalaki, we have not a single Shard. Many of our nuatoma—this thing, it is the same as your lighteyes, only their eyes are not light—

The size of a contested plateau determined the number of troops you could field on it. The Parshendi usually brought a large force to the Tower, and they had rebuffed the Alethi assaults there twenty-seven times now. No Alethi had ever won a skirmish upon it. Dalinar had been turned back there twice himself.

“And if I don’t want that responsibility? What if I just want

to be something normal, like a baker, or a farmer, or …” Or a soldier, he added in his mind. He’d picked up a staff a few times in secret, and though he’d never been able to replicate that moment when he’d fought Jost, there was something invigorating about holding a weapon. Something that drew him and excited him.

Kaladin feeling the Thrill the first time wielding a quarter staff

A man’s emotions are what define him, and control is the hallmark of true strength. To lack feeling is to be dead, but to act on every feeling is to be a child.”

“Doesn’t it bother you at all that the Radiants betrayed us?” “Legends. The Recreance is an event so old, it might as well be in the shadowdays. What did the Radiants really do? Why did they do it? We don’t know.” “We know enough. They used elaborate tricks to imitate great powers and pretend a holy calling. When their deceptions were discovered, they fled.” “Their powers were not lies. They were real.” “Oh?” Sadeas said, amused. “You know this? Didn’t you just say the event was so old, it might as well have been in the shadowdays?

Dalinar was the Blackthorn. He was a natural force, never to be halted. He was death itself. He— He felt a sudden stab of powerful revulsion, a sickness so strong that it made him gasp. He slipped, partially on a patch of blood, but partially because his knees grew suddenly weak.

h

He couldn’t leave them. Just like he’d never been able to leave anyone who he’d thought needed him. He had to protect them. He had to. For Tien. And for his own sanity.

Why do you suppose,” Dalinar said, “there are no Shardplate-like suits for workmen?” “What?” “Shardplate gives awesome strength, but we rarely use it for anything other than war and slaughter. Why did the Radiants fashion only weapons? Why didn’t they make productive tools for use by ordinary men?” “I don’t know,” Adolin said. “Perhaps because war was the most important thing around.” “Perhaps,” Dalinar said, voice growing softer. “And perhaps that’s a final condemnation of them and their ideals. For all of their lofty claims, they never gave their Plate or its secrets to the common people.”

Was this a undisclosed part from one of his visions?

they have Shardblades then?’ “ Danlan said. Dalinar hadn’t realized that Jasnah had made a response. “No.” A scratched reply eventually came. “ ‘But they have them now. When did you first see a Parshendi Shardbearer?’ ” “After Gavilar’s death,” Dalinar said. He made the connection. They’d always wondered why Gavilar had wanted a treaty with the Parshendi. They wouldn’t have needed one just to harvest the greatshells on the Shattered Plains; the Parshendi hadn’t lived on the Plains then. Dalinar felt a chill. Could his brother have known that these Parshendi had access to Shardblades? Had he made the treaty hoping to get out of them where they’d found the weapons?

Where exactly did the Parshendi get their shards?

‘What were the first things they spoke to you about?’ “ Danlan said. “ ‘The very first questions they asked? Can you remember?’ ” Dalinar closed his eyes, remembering days with the Parshendi camped just across the river from them. Gavilar had become fascinated by them. “They wanted to see our maps.”

Did they want to see the maps to locate Urithiru? Is that where the shards they have were found possibly? In the capital where the tower in the Shattered Plains is.

“We brought you plenty,” Thresh said. “I cannot believe you buy these from us. They are not worth nearly so much as you outsiders think. And you give us metal for them! Metal that bears no stain of broken rock. A miracle.”

shin and stone

His memory was returning. Kasitor was a large Iriali city, second in size only to Rall Elorim. He’d

Even Axies’s tattoos weren’t that noteworthy here. Perhaps he drew stares because of his blue nails and crystalline deep blue eyes. Aimians—even Siah Aimians—were rare. Or perhaps it was because he cast a shadow the wrong way. Toward light, instead of away from it. It was a small thing, and the shadows weren’t long, with the sun so high. But those who noticed muttered or jumped out of the way. Likely they’d heard of his kind. It hadn’t been that long since the scouring of his homeland.

He’d learned long ago not to worry. When the Curse of Kind followed you, you learned to take what happened as it happened.

Like all Aimians, he could change the color and markings of his skin at will. That

Test successful. Have noted spren who appear only when one is severely intoxicated. Appear as small brown bubbles clinging to objects nearby.

He’d been hunting this particular type of spren for years. If they proved real, it would be quite a victory. Why did they appear only in Iri? And why so infrequently? He’d gotten himself stupidly drunk a dozen times, and had only found them once. If, indeed, he had ever really found them.

Sometimes, even the most common types—flamespren, for instance—would refuse to appear. That made it particularly frustrating for a man who had made it his life’s work to observe, catalogue, and study every single type of spren in Roshar.

Around him flowed large numbers of the golden-haired Iriali. The hair bred true, like black Alethi hair—the purer your blood was, the more locks of gold you had. And it wasn’t merely blond, it was truly gold, lustrous in the sun.

adolins mom was Iriali / Iri?

It wasn’t long. At precisely seven forty-six in the morning—the locals could use it to set their timepieces—

Look up timepices on roshar. Dalinar has a fabrial version

It takes the shape of a large jet of water, Axies thought, creating a tattoo along an open portion of his leg, scribing the words. The center is of the deepest blue, like the ocean depths, though the outer edges are a lighter shade. Judging by the masts of the nearby ships, I’d say that the spren has grown to a height of at least a hundred feet. One of the largest I’ve ever seen. The column sprouted four long arms that came down around the bay, forming fingers and thumbs. They landed on golden pedestals that had been placed there by the people of the city. The spren came at the same time every day, without fail. They called it by name, Cusicesh, the Protector. Some worshipped it as a god. Most simply accepted it as part of the city. It was unique. One of the few types of spren he knew of that seemed to have only a single member. But what kind of spren is it? Axies wrote, fascinated. It has formed a face, looking eastward. Directly toward the Origin. That face is shifting, bewilderingly quick. Different human faces appear on the end of its stumplike neck, one after another in blurred succession.

what kinda spren is this?

Axies felt drained, as if something had been leeched from him. That was reported to be a common reaction.

Two new spren in as many days! At this rate, it might only take a few more centuries to complete his research. Grand indeed. He resumed whistling to himself.

He took it, and his Stormlight illuminated some two dozen names written in the warrior’s script of his homeland. Some had a note beside them with instructions on how they were to be killed. Glories within, Szeth thought. “These are some of the most powerful people in the world! Six highprinces? A Selay gerontarch? The king of Jah Keved?”