Edgedancer: From the Stormlight Archive

What good is seeking a greater law, when that law can be the whims of a man either stupid or ruthless?

It was good to remember that life wasn’t only about scratchy things.

Sometimes it was about soft pillows, fluffy cake. Nice words.

Mothers.

“Pity can be a powerful tool. Anytime you can make someone else feel something, you’ve got power over them.”

“What if you’re wrong though?” Lift whispered. “What if

‘instinct’ doesn’t guide us? What if everybody is frightened, and nobody has the answers?”

What is it to be you, little Radiant?”

He’s almost as weird as you are.”

“Will you fight them, little Radiant?” the assassin asked.

“You, alone, against two journeyman Skybreakers? A Herald waiting in the wings?”

She glanced at Wyndle. “I don’t know. But I have to go anyway, don’t I?”

But not my stone … What good is seeking a greater law, when that law can be the whims of a man either stupid or ruthless?”

He pulled his sword out of the sheath a fraction of an inch.

Black smoke poured from the blade, dropping toward the floor and pooling at his feet. Lift felt a sudden, terrible nausea.

“I’m going anyway,” he whispered.

“Sounds dangerous.”

His vines scrunched as they tightened against one another.

“You think?”

“Yeah, totally,” Lift said, then peeked around the corner.

“Something’s wrong about that guy in white. Can you get killed, Voidbringer?”