The Way of Kings

Shallan never got a chance to look at Jasnah’s notebooks. Might she, perhaps, have taken notes on the Soulcaster? Shallan sat at the desk, hurriedly pulling open the top drawer and poking through the brushpens, charcoal pencils, and sheets of paper. All were organized neatly, and the paper was blank. The bottom right drawer held ink and empty notebooks. The bottom left drawer had a small collection of reference books.

That left the books on the top of the table. Jasnah would have the majority of her notebooks with her as she worked. But… yes, there were still a few here. Heart fluttering, Shallan gathered up the three thin volumes and set them before her.

Notes on Urithiru, the first one declared inside. The notebook was full – it appeared – of quotes from and notations about various books Jasnah had found. All spoke of this place, Urithiru. Jasnah had mentioned it earlier to Kabsal.

Shallan put that book aside, looking at the next, hoping for mention of the Soulcaster. This notebook was also filled to capacity, but there was no title on it. Shallan picked through, reading some entries.

“The ones of ash and fire, who killed like a swarm, relentless before the Heralds…” Noted in Masly, page 337. Corroborated by Coldwin and Hasavah.

“They take away the light, wherever they lurk. Skin that is burned.” Cormshen, page 104.

Innia, in her recordings of children’s folktales, speaks of the Voidbringers as being “Like a highstorm, regular in their coming, yet always unexpected.” The word Desolation is used twice in reference to their appearances. See pages 57, 59, and 64 of Tales by Hearthlight.

“They changed, even as we fought them. Like shadows they were, that can transform as the flame dances. Never underestimate them because of what you first see.” Purports to be a scrap collected from Talatin, a Radiant of the Order of Stonewards. The source – Guvlow’s Incarnate – is generally held as reliable, though this is from a copied fragment of The Poem of the Seventh Morning, which has been lost.

They went on like that. Pages and pages. Jasnah had trained her in this method of note taking – once the notebook was filled, each item would be evaluated again for reliability and usefulness and copied to different, more specific notebooks.

Frowning, Shallan looked through the final notebook. It focused on Natanatan, the Unclaimed Hills, and the Shattered Plains. It collected records of discoveries by hunters, explorers, or tradesmen searching for a river passage to New Natanan. Of the three notebooks, the largest was the one that focused on the Voidbringers.

The Voidbringers again. Many people in more rural places whispered of them and other monsters of the dark. The raspings, or stormwhispers, or even the dreaded nightspren. Shallan had been taught by stern tutors that these were superstition, fabrications of the Lost Radiants, who used tales of monsters to justify their domination of mankind.

The ardents taught something else. They spoke of the Lost Radiants – called the Knights Radiant then – fighting off Voidbringers during the war to hold Roshar. According to these teachings, it was only after defeating the Voidbringers – and the departure of the Heralds – that the Radiants had fallen.

Both groups agreed that the Voidbringers were gone. Fabrications or long-defeated enemies, the result was the same. Shallan could believe that some people – some scholars, even – might believe that the Voidbringers still existed, haunting mankind. But Jasnah the skeptic? Jasnah, who denied the existence of the Almighty? Could the woman really be so twisted as to deny the existence of God, but accept the existence of his mythological enemies?

A knock came at the outer door. Shallan jumped, raising her hand to her breast. She hurriedly replaced the notebooks on the desk in the same order and orientation. Then, flustered, she hurried out to the door. Jasnah wouldn’t knock, you silly fool, she told herself, unlocking and opening the door a crack.