The last is the highprince, a warlord whose eyes have opened to the past as his thirst for battle wanes. The third is the liar, a young woman who wears a scholar’s mantle over the heart of a thief. The second is the assassin, a murderer who weeps as he kills. The first is the surgeon, forced to put aside healing to become a soldier in the most brutal war of our time. But ignore the steel long enough, and it will eventually rust away. Or was that victory an illusion all along? Did our enemies realize that the harder they fought, the stronger we resisted? Perhaps they saw that the heat and the hammer only make for a better grade of sword. Nothing, it appears, is more challenging to the souls of men than victory itself. A time when there was still magic in the world and honor in the hearts of men. The age before the Heralds abandoned us and the Knights Radiant turned against us. I long for the days before the Last Desolation. The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson BLURB
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