Amaram hesitated by the door, resting the blunt edge of the stolen Shardblade on his shoulder. The guilt was still there in his eyes, but he grew hard, covering it. “You are being discharged as a deserter and branded as a slave. But you are spared death by my mercy.” He opened the door and walked out. The branding iron fell, searing Kaladin’s fate into his skin. He let out a final, ragged scream.
