The Way of Kings

“You needn’t worry about me,” Shallan said. “Jasnah doesn’t try to persuade me to abandon the devotaries.”

Kabsal leaned forward, growing more somber. He was older than she – a man in his mid-twenties, confident, self-assured, and earnest. He was practically the only man near her age that she’d ever talked to outside of her father’s careful supervision.

But he was also an ardent. So, of course, nothing could come of it. Could it?

“Shallan,” Kabsal said gently, “can you not see how we – how I – would be concerned? Brightness Jasnah is a very powerful and intriguing woman. We would expect her ideas to be infectious.”

“Infectious? I thought you said I was the disease.”

“I never said that!”

“Yes, but I pretended you did. Which is virtually the same thing.”

He frowned. “Brightness Shallan, the ardents are worried about you. The souls of the Almighty’s children are our responsibility. Jasnah has a history of corrupting those with whom she comes in contact.”

“Really?” Shallan asked, genuinely interested. “Other wards?”

“It is not my place to say.”

“We can move to another place.”

“I’m firm on this point, Brightness. I will not speak of it.”

“Write it, then.”

“Brightness…” he said, voice taking on a suffering tone.

“Oh, all right,” she said, sighing. “Well, I can assure you, my soul is quite well and thoroughly uninfected.”

He sat back, then cut another piece of bread. She found herself studying him again, but grew annoyed at her own girlish foolishness. She would soon be returning to her family, and he was only visiting her for reasons relating to his Calling. But she truly was fond of his company. He was the only one here in Kharbranth that she felt she could really talk to. And he was handsome; the simple clothing and shaved head only highlighted his strong features. Like many young ardents, he kept his beard short and neatly trimmed. He spoke with a refined voice, and he was so well-read.

“Well, if you’re certain about your soul,” he said, turning back to her. “Then perhaps I could interest you in our devotary.”

“I have a devotary. The Devotary of Purity.”

“But the Devotary of Purity isn’t the place for a scholar. The Glory it advocates has nothing to do with your studies or your art.”

“A person doesn’t need a devotary that focuses directly on their Calling.”

“It is nice when the two coincide, though.”

Shallan stifled a grimace. The Devotary of Purity focused on – as one might imagine – teaching one to emulate the Almighty’s honesty and wholesomeness. The ardents at the devotary hall hadn’t known what to make of her fascination with art. They’d always wanted her to do sketches of things they found “pure.” Statues of the Heralds, depictions of the Double Eye.

Her father had chosen the devotary for her, of course.

“I just wonder if you made an informed choice,” Kabsal said. “Switching devotaries is allowed, after all.”

“Yes, but isn’t recruitment frowned upon? Ardents competing for members?”

“It is indeed frowned upon. A deplorable habit.”

“But you do it anyway?”

“I curse occasionally too.”

“I hadn’t noticed. You’re a very curious ardent, Kabsal.”

“You’d be surprised. We’re not nearly as stuffy a bunch as we seem. Well, except Brother Habsant; he spends so much time staring at the rest of us.” He hesitated. “Actually, now I think about it, he might actually be stuffed. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him move…”

“We’re getting distracted. Weren’t you trying to recruit me to your devotary?”

“Yes. And it’s not so uncommon as you think. All of the devotaries engage in it. We do a lot of frowning at one another for our profound lack of ethics.” He leaned forward again, growing more serious. “My devotary has relatively few members, as we don’t have as much exposure as others. So whenever someone seeking knowledge comes to the Palanaeum, we take it upon ourselves to inform them.”

“Recruit them.”

“Let them see what it is they are missing.” He took a bite of his bread and jam. “In the Devotary of Purity, did they teach you about the nature of the Almighty? The divine prism, with the ten facets representing the Heralds?”

“They touched on it,” she said. “Mostly we talked about achieving my goals of… well, purity. Somewhat boring, I’ll admit, since there wasn’t much chance for impurity on my part.”

Kabsal shook his head. “The Almighty gives everyone talents – and when we pick a Calling that capitalizes on them, we are worshipping him in the most fundamental way. A devotary – and its ardents – should help nurture that, encouraging you to set and achieve goals of excellence.” He waved to the books stacked on the desk. “This is what your devotary should be helping you with, Shallan. History, logic, science, art. Being honest and good is important, but we should be working harder to encourage the natural talents of people, rather than forcing them to adapt to the Glories and Callings we feel are most important.”

“That is a reasonable argument, I guess.”