Dawnshard (The Stormlight Archive, #3.5)

by Brandon Sanderson

“When Aimia fell,” he explained, “the Na-Alind—a family among the greatshelled gods of the Reshi—took in the last of the larkin. Greatshells do not think or speak like people do, and the ways of our gods are strange. But best we can tell, there was a promise among them. To protect these, their cousins.

Tradition. Stronger than Soulcast wood. If only they could find a way to build ships directly out of it, they’d fear no wind or wave.

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s nice to make people laugh at you for something you do, and not something you can’t control. You know?” “I . . . Yes. I think I do.”

Omens weren’t real. But the way people reacted to them was very real. Inverting that was all about perspective.

“Storming lighteyes,” Lopen muttered. “Always making things more difficult for us common folk.” “Us common folk?” she asked. “You are a Knight Radiant.” “The most common one.” “You frequently tell me how uncommon you are, Lopen.” “It’s only a contradiction if you think about it.” “I . . . I have no response to that.” “See? You are getting it already.

Storms. Was it her, or did this tea taste extra good? She inspected it, then glanced at the sunlight pouring through the porthole. Was it . . . brighter than usual? Why did the colors in her room look so exceptionally vivid all of a sudden?

“What are they, Rysn?” the captain asked. “Truly? They seem like monsters of nightmare and the Void.” “Most people who are different from us are frightening at first,” Rysn said. “But one thing Vstim taught me was to see past my own expectations. In this case, it meant looking past what I assumed made someone a person, and seeing the humanity—and the fear—in what appeared to be a nightmare.”