The Way of Kings Prime by Brandon Sanderson

Author:Brandon Sanderson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Dragonsteel Entertainment, LLC
Published: 2020-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

Vorinism didn’t speak much of the afterlife. The monks said that it was not man’s place to worry about the next life, but that his focus should be on this one. The mortal life was where man faced his challenges—and to the Vorins, those challenges were manifest in the danger of the Stormshades.

The Returns were finished, Vorinism now taught, but there was much that could be learned from the past. The Khothen themselves were a metaphor. When the Stormshades threatened, men had been forced to live within the precepts of society, not creating chaos or fighting against other men—for all of humankind had a far greater enemy to face. Men needed that same unity in everything they did. If one pressed the monks to speak about the afterlife, they simply explained that living well—remaking oneself by transforming the Ten Carnal Attributes into the Ten Divine Attributes—would assure a man rewards.

The Elinrah priests were more forthcoming. They whispered of the Almighty’s Dwelling, the radiant gathering of stars that shone in the night sky. The Dwelling was said to be at the very center of that collection of stars, where the points of light were so thick that one couldn’t distinguish space between them. That place of light and peace was where the souls of good men would find rest.

There were other places too. One, Khothar, was a place of fire and smoke. Khothar was the land of the Stormshades—and the Elinrah taught that this was a land where the souls of men who did not follow the Almighty were punished. There was a place even worse, however. The Deep. A place reserved for men who professed allegiance to the Almighty, but who were evil in their hearts. This was a place of special suffering, a land of dark coldness. A land of madness.

Merin hadn’t expected to find himself there.

But where else could he be than the Deep? What had he done that he would lie bound, his screams lapped up by the highstorm’s roar, his face beaten by both rains and the crashing waves from the river below? The wind of the tempest pushed from behind, but it was doubled by passing air to the sides, a wind created as their boat moved at a ridiculous speed over the waters.

Cities, dark from the clouds overhead, blipped past like drops of forgotten rain. If men in them watched the river, they might have seen fools caught in a perpetual roar of destruction. They might have heard screams of terror over the wind. But they probably didn’t.

Fortunately, unconsciousness took Merin before madness could.

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