“We are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size.” - Bernard de Chartres.
First, I must thank Patrick Rothfuss, who laid the foundation stone by stone, word by careful word. There is art in that work. It is deliberate, deep, and filled with quiet care. To begin here is to sit beside a roaring fire, to listen for names in the crackling dark, to find the world new and strange again. Without such a beginning, I would have wandered off long ago, my interest spent, my feet sore.
Next, let me thank TacticalDo. His “Price of Remembering” found, if not the ending itself, then at least a hint of what the third book might be. In reading his words, I felt a door unlock. I realized that I, too, was allowed to shape an ending with my own hands. To draw out my own truths from within.
To those who shared their thoughts and theories, I owe you a debt. You are like the bright sparks drawn out from flint and tinder, the kindled fires in dark places where alone I would have seen no answers. When ideas are tested, then tempered, then given breath, we all burn brighter for it. Many of your fancies proved fertile ground. The most fruitful, I have named in the appendix.
And last, let me thank all the quiet transcribers, those patient souls who listen and set words in careful rows. Hours of interviews and stories distilled into a card catalogue so that their secrets might be found and plucked from the shadows. Audio is a bramble, full of thorns and snags, but you gave me a lantern to see by, a path where before was only dark.
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