I long for the days before the last desolation, before the heralds abandoned us and the Knights Radiant turned against us. When there was still magic in Roshar and honor in the hearts of men.
In the end, not war, but victory proved the greater test. Fire and famer forge a sword, time and neglect rust it away. So we won the war, yet lost it.
Now there are four whom we watch. The surgeon, forced to forsake healing and fight in the most brutal war of our time. The assassin, who weeps as he kills. The liar, who wears a scholar's mantel over a thief's heart. And the prince, who's eyes open to the ancient past as his thirst oif battle wanes.
One of them may redeem us.
One of them will destroy us.
-From the back of tWoK, Mass Market Paperback copy. I wrote every singe word from memory. I still need to memorize the hardcover copy's version, and both for WoR.
I have a problem.