The Way of Kings, Part 1 (The Stormlight Archive #1.1)

“Father,” Renarin said. “For the Old Magic to have affected you, you’d have had to travel to the West and seek it. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, ashamed. The empty place in his memories where his wife had once existed had never seemed as obvious to him as it did at that moment. He tended to ignore it, with good reason. She’d vanished completely, and it was sometimes difficult for him to remember that he had been married.

“These visions are not in line with what I’ve understood about the Nightwatcher,” Renarin said. “Most consider her to be just some kind of powerful spren. Once you’ve sought her out and been given your reward and your curse, she’s supposed to leave you alone. When did you seek her?”

“It’s been many years now,” Dalinar said.

“Then this probably isn’t due to her influence,” Renarin said.

“I agree,” Dalinar said.

“But what did you ask for?” Adolin said, frowning.

“My curse and boon are my own, son,” Dalinar said. “The specifics are not important.”

“But—”

“I agree with Renarin,” Dalinar said, interrupting. “This is probably not the Nightwatcher.”

“All right, fine. But why bring it up?”

“Because, Adolin,” Dalinar said, feeling exasperated. “I don’t know what is happening to me. These visions seem far too detailed to be products of my mind. But your arguments made me think. I could be wrong. Or you could be wrong, and it could be the Almighty. Or it could be something entirely different. We don’t know, and that is why it is dangerous for me to be left in command.”

“Well, what I said still holds,” Adolin said stubbornly. “We can contain it.”

“No, we can’t,” Dalinar said. “Just because it has come only during highstorms in the past doesn’t mean it couldn’t expand to other times of stress. What if I were struck with an episode on the battlefield?” That was very same reason they didn’t let Renarin ride into battle.

“If that happens,” Adolin said, “we’ll deal with it. For now, we could just ignore—”

Dalinar threw a hand up into the air. “Ignore? I cannot ignore something like this. The visions, the book, the things I feel—they’re changing every aspect of me. How can I rule if I do not follow my conscience? If I continue as highprince, I second-guess my every decision. Either I decide to trust myself, or I step down. I cannot stomach the thought of something in-between.”

The room fell silent.

“So what do we do?” Adolin said.

“We make the choice,” Dalinar said. “I make the choice.”

“Step down or keep heeding the delusions,” Adolin spat. “Either way we’re letting them rule us.”

“And you have a better option?” Dalinar demanded. “You’ve been quick to complain, Adolin, which seems a habit of yours. But I don’t see you offering a legitimate alternative.”

“I gave you one,” Adolin said. “Ignore the visions and move on!”

“I said a legitimate option!”

The two stared at one another. Dalinar fought to keep his anger contained. In many ways, he and Adolin were too similar. They understood one another, and that enabled them to push in places that hurt.

“Well,” Renarin said, “what if we proved whether or not the visions were true?”

Dalinar glanced at him. “What?”

“You say these dreams are detailed,” Renarin said, leaning forward with hands clasped in front of him. “What, exactly, do you see?”

Dalinar hesitated, then gulped down the rest of his wine. For once he wished he had intoxicating violet instead of orange. “The visions are often of the Knights Radiant. At the end of each episode, someone—I think one of the Heralds—comes to me and commands me to unite the highprinces of Alethkar.”

The room fell silent, Adolin looking disturbed, Renarin just sitting quietly.

“Today, I saw the Day of Recreance,” Dalinar continued. “The Radiants abandoned their Shards and walked away. The Plate and Blades … faded somehow when they were abandoned. It seems such an odd detail to have seen.” He looked at Adolin. “If these visions are fantasies, then I am a great deal more clever than I once thought myself.”

“Do you remember any specifics we could check on?” Renarin asked. “Names? Locations? Events that might be traced in history?”

“This last one was of a place called Feverstone Keep,” Dalinar said.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Adolin said.

“Feverstone Keep,” Dalinar repeated. “In my vision, there was some kind of war going on near there. The Radiants had been fighting on the front lines. They withdrew to this fortress, then abandoned their Shards there.”

“Perhaps we could find something in history,” Renarin said. “Proof that either this keep existed or that the Radiants didn’t do what you saw there. Then we’d know, wouldn’t we? If the dreams are delusions or truth?”

Dalinar found himself nodding. Proving them had never occurred to him, in part because he had assumed they were real at the start. Once he’d started questioning, he’d been more inclined to keep the nature of the visions hidden and silent. But if he knew that he was seeing real events … well, that would at least rule out the possibility of madness. It wouldn’t solve everything, but it would help a great deal.

“I don’t know,” Adolin said, more skeptical. “Father, you’re talking about times before the Hierocracy. Will we be able to find anything in the histories?”

“There are histories from the time when the Radiants lived,” Renarin said. “That’s not as far back as the shadowdays or the Heraldic Epochs. We could ask Jasnah. Isn’t this what she does? As a Veristitalian?”

Dalinar looked at Adolin. “It sounds like it’s worth a try, son.”

“Maybe,” Adolin said. “But we can’t take the existence of a single place as proof. You could have heard of this Feverstone Keep, and therefore included it.”

“Well,” Renarin said, “that may be true. But if what Father sees are just delusions, then certainly we’ll be able to prove some parts of them untrue. It seems impossible that every detail he imagines is one that he got from a story or history. Some aspects of the delusions would have to be pure fancy.”

Adolin nodded slowly. “I … You’re right, Renarin. Yes, it’s a good plan.”

“We need to get one of my scribes,” Dalinar said. “So I can dictate the vision I just had while it is fresh.”

“Yes,” Renarin said. “The more details we have, the easier it will be to prove—or disprove—the visions.”

Dalinar grimaced, setting aside his cup and walking over to the others. He sat down. “All right, but who would we use to record the dictation?”

“You have a great number of clerks, Father,” Renarin said.