Thursday, January 12, 2012

The Scent of the Wind

This will make no sense unless you've read Patrick Rothfuss' glop of fantasy The Name of the Wind, which has an unbelievably overpowered hero named Kvothe. And possibly even if you have.  

Sweat pooled on Kvothe's furrowed brow. He was weaving so many threads together in his mind. Weaving just three of these threads would break most men's will, and there were roughly sixteen threads involved, so Kvothe's mind was at least as complicated as eight normal men's*.

"Kvothe, the vessel is about to burst! You have to do something!"

Kvothe couldn't spare any effort for speech, but he had been using his spare time in between classes, music, and teaching eighteen different languages to orphans at the same time, to master the art of knitting. He quickly knitted the word "silence" into a blanket and showed it to Denna, who quieted, chastened.

"There!" he gasped, "It's done." The massive water tank had held. The pipes were in place and connected, held there by the force of Kvothe's thought. He placed his hand upon the lacquered handle.

"Now, who would like to try the first flush?"

*As revealed in A Wise Man's Fear, Kvothe is not so good at math, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's not at all a ridiculously overpowered fantasy superhero. At all.