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

by Brandon Sanderson

what's special about her? Possible Herald ?

“I wonder if they eat in the Cognitive Realm. Is a food there what it sees itself as being? I’ll have to read and see if anyone has ever eaten while visiting Shadesmar.”

They were on a tiny Reshi island, technically sent to provide for the religious needs of any Vorin visitors. Some travelers did come to them for that, occasionally even some of the Reshi. But really, this was a way of getting away and focusing on their experiments. Geranid with her spren studies. Ashir with his chemistry—through cooking, of course, as it allowed him to eat the results.

..

Szeth leaped at one of the Shardbearers—a man in gold armor—deflecting his weapon with the shield and pushing past him. The other man, whose Plate was red, swung too.

does karbranth king own these now?

“Stay alert,” Dalinar chided them. They glanced at him, the one who had been dozing blinking awake. All three seemed incredulous. One—a tall, red-haired man—scowled. “This from you, Leef?” Dalinar bit back a retort. Who did they see him as?

Feverstone Keep.

Keep

the Order of the Stonewards, my lord,” the still-mounted scout was saying. “And a large number of Windrunners. All on foot.”

Mention of stonewards and windrunners

Suddenly, others began to fall from the sky. They hit with the sound of rock cracking, puffs of Stormlight blossoming from their figures. These all glowed blue.

mord Windrunners?

He could now see others in the distance, far off. A crowd of soldiers, not wearing Shardplate, waiting for the Radiants to return. Who were they, and why hadn’t they come forward?

Who was these people and why did they stay back and wear no shardplates?

He looked over his shoulder at the crowd gathering around the Blades. Men had begun to scream at one another, everyone scrambling to get a Blade before they were all claimed. “They are the first,” the Radiant said, turning to Dalinar. Dalinar recognized the depth of that voice. It was the voice that always spoke to him in these visions. “They were the first, and they were also the last.” “Is this the Day of Recreance?” Dalinar asked. “These events will go down in history,” the Radiant said. “They will be infamous. You will have many names for what happened here.” “But why?” Dalinar asked. “Please. Why did they abandon their duty?” The figure seemed to study him. “I have said that cannot be of much help to you. The Night of Sorrows will come, and the True Desolation. The Everstorm.” “Then answer my questions!” Dalinar said. “Read the book. Unite them.” “The book? The Way of Kings?”

razor-edged arrow

Herald Kelek is hinted in this chapter somewhere

One poor man from Eight was crawling toward the others, an arrow through his thigh. Kaladin walked up to him. He had dark brown skin and brown eyes, his thick black hair pulled back into a long, braided tail. Painspren crawled around him. He

“I know,” Wit said, then looked directly at him. “Adonalsium.” Dalinar frowned more deeply. “What?” Wit searched his face. “Have you ever heard the term, Dalinar?” “Ado … what?” “Nothing,” Wit said.

would say an excuse is something you claim, but do not believe, Nak-ali.” Hatham was using the high form of Au-nak’s name.

look him up

“A woman sits and scratches out her own eyes. Daughter of kings and winds, the vandal.”

shalash

“Is there a place where people live in gouges in the ground?” Kaladin said. “A city built in an enormous complex of lines, all set into the rock as if carved there?” “Sesemalex Dar,” Sigzil said, nodding, pulling off another boot. “Yes, it is the capital of the kingdom of Emul, and is one of the most ancient cities in the world. It is said that the city—and, indeed, the kingdom—were named by Jezrien himself.” “Jezrien?” Malop said, standing and scratching his head. “Who’s that?” Malop was a thick-haired fellow with a bushy black beard and a glyphward tattoo on each hand. He also wasn’t the brightest sphere in the goblet, so to speak. “You call him the Stormfather, here in Alethkar,” Sigzil said. “Or Jezerezeh’Elin. He was king of the Heralds. Master of the storms, bringer of water and life, known for his fury and his temper, but also for his mercy.”

jezeriah

Sesemalex Dar. It is, indeed, built in giant troughs. The pattern is quite amazing. It protects against highstorms, as each trough has a lip at the side, keeping water from streaming in off the stone plain around it. That, mixed with a drainage system of cracks, protects the city from flooding.

Wounded Parshendi lay staring up into the air, faces masks of pain, singing a quiet, haunting song to themselves. Often just as whispers. They never yelled as they died.

Dalinar inspected the clean-shaven ones for signs of any stubble. There was none, and more than a few had a faintly feminine shape to their faces. Could the ones without beards all be women? They didn’t appear to have much in the way of breasts, and their builds were like those of men, but the strange Parshendi armor could be masking things. The beardless ones did seem smaller by a few fingers, and the shapes of the faces … studying them, it seemed possible. Could the pairs be husbands and wives fighting together? That struck him as strangely fascinating. Was it possible that, despite six years of war, nobody had taken the time to investigate the genders of those they fought?

“I hold the suckling child in my hands, a knife at his throat, and know that all who live wish me to let the blade slip. Spill its blood upon the ground, over my hands, and with it gain us further breath to draw.” —Dated Shashanan, 1173, 23 seconds pre-death. Subject: a darkeyed youth of sixteen years. Sample is of particular note.

Then Kaladin saw it. He thought he’d set the pack on the rim of the barrel, but in his haste he’d just pressed it against the side of the barrel. The pack now clung to the wood. Stuck there, hanging as if from an invisible hook. Faintly streaming light, just like Kaladin. As Kaladin watched, the light faded, and the pack slumped free and fell to the ground.

Kaladin, you’ve heard the stories. Men who walked on walls, men who bound the storms to them. Windrunners. Why would you want to be rid of something like this?” Kaladin struggled to define it. The healing, the way he never got hit, running at the front of the bridge … Yes, he’d known something odd was happening. Why did it frighten him so? Was it because he feared being set apart, like his father always was as the surgeon in Hearthstone? Or was it something greater? “I’m doing what the Radiants did,” he said.

chasm—Kaladin found a man sitting on a boulder, wearing a lighteyes’s black uniform. A small fire of rockbud shell burned in front of him. The man’s hair was short and black, his face angular. He wore a thin, black-sheathed sword at his waist.

Hoid

“Derethil fought the Voidbringers during the days of the Heralds and Radiants,”

During his weeks of recovery, Derethil studied the strange people, who called themselves the Uvara, the People of the Great Abyss.

“The emperor, Derethil discovered, resided in the tower on the eastern coast of the largest island among the Uvara.” Kaladin felt a chill. The smoke images were just from his mind, adding to the story, weren’t they? Had he really seen a tower before Hoid mentioned it?

I’ve come to your land to chase an old acquaintance, but I end up spending most of my time hiding from him instead.”

who's hoid looking for / hiding from?

“And take good care of that blasted apprentice of mine. He really should have let me know he was still alive. Perhaps he feared I’d come to rescue him again.” “Apprentice?” “Tell him I graduate him,” Hoid said, still walking. “He’s a full Worldsinger now. Don’t let him get killed. I spent far too long trying to force some sense into that brain of his.” Sigzil, Kaladin thought. “I’ll give him the flute,” he called after Hoid. “No you won’t,” Hoid said, turning, walking backward as he left. “It’s a gift to you, Kaladin Stormblessed. I expect you to be able to play it when next we meet!”

sigzil is hoids apprentice

dear to me took fright for my safety and, perhaps, my sanity. Kings, they explained, do not walk like beggars for hundreds of miles. My response was that if a beggar could manage the feat, then why not a king? Did they think me less capable than a beggar?

‘My family traveled to Urithiru via the direct method, and had been awaiting me for weeks when I arrived.

my mane had grown quite robust without a razor to tame

‘And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.

For the substance of our existence is not in the achievement, but in the method.

Always. Waiting. I see their faces in mirrors. Symbols, twisted, inhuman …” Dalinar glanced at Sadeas, and the two shared a disturbed look. Was Elhokar’s paranoia

“Above the final void I hang, friends behind, friends before. The feast I must drink clings to their faces, and the words I must speak spark in my mind. The old oaths will be spoken anew.” —Dated Betabanan, 1173, 45 seconds pre-death. Subject: a lighteyed child of five years. Diction improved remarkably when giving sample.

“According to stories that contradict one another. You’ve told me that the Radiants could fly and walk on walls.”

“They sure could. And make stone melt by looking at it. And move great distances in a single heartbeat. And command the sunlight.

diff characteristics of radiants

“Oh, you can infuse,” Teft said. “You can drink in the Stormlight and command it. But being a Radiant was more than that. It was their way of life, the things they did. The Immortal Words.” “The what?” Teft rolled his sphere between his fingers again, holding it up and staring into its depths. “Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination. That was their motto, and was the First Ideal of the Immortal Words. There were four others.” Kaladin raised an eyebrow. “Which were?” “I don’t actually know,” Teft said. “But the Immortal Words—these Ideals—guided everything they did. The four later Ideals were said to be different for every order of Radiants.

But the First Ideal was the same for each of the ten: Life before death, strength before weakness, journey before destination.”

good to know

“Life before death,” Teft said, wagging a finger at Kaladin. “The Radiant seeks to defend life, always. He never kills unnecessarily, and never risks his own life for frivolous reasons. Living is harder than dying. The Radiant’s duty is to live. “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. Strength does not make one capable of rule; it makes one capable of service.”

“Journey before destination. There are always several ways to achieve a goal. Failure is preferable to winning through unjust means. Protecting ten innocents is not worth killing one. In the end, all men die. How you lived will be far more important to the Almighty than what you accomplished.”

Renarin watched with keen interest, bespectacled eyes curious, intense. If only the lad could be persuaded to become an ardent. He could be an engineer then, if he wanted. And yet he refused. His reasons always seemed like poor excuses to Dalinar. “It’s kind of bulky,” Dalinar noted. “Well, it’s just an early model,” Navani said defensively. “I was working backward from one of those dreadful creations of Longshadow’s, and I didn’t have the luxury of refining the shape. I think it has a lot of potential. Imagine a few of these on a battlefield to dull the pain of wounded soldiers. Imagine it in the hands of a surgeon, who wouldn’t have to worry about his patients’ pain while working on them.”