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“And what about me?” she said. “I could write your history. Your life. Whatever you think you’ve done, whatever you think you’ve accomplished … that’s ephemeral, Gavilar. Words on the page define men to future generations. You spurn me, but I have a grip on what you cherish most. Push me too far, and I will start squeezing.”
I have discovered the entrance to the realm of gods and legends, and once I join them, my kingdom will never end. I will never end.”
You never got half of Dalinar Kholin. When he put his mind to something, you got the whole man—and had to simply pray to the Almighty that you could handle him.
“I want you training, teaching, and helping us fight this war. Don’t be ashamed, son. You fought well. You survived things no man should have to. That sort of experience leaves scars, same as any wound. It’s all right to admit to them.”
“I favor compassion,” Leshwi said, “so long as it does not override worthier Passions.”
“If you forget why you are fighting, then victory itself becomes the goal. The longer we fight, the more detached we become. Both from our own minds, and from our original Passions.”
This land is for the ordinary singers to inherit. I will not leave it desolate simply to prove we can murder better than our enemies.”
No army, no matter how clean its reputation, walked away from war untainted. And no leader, no matter how noble, could help but sink into the crem when he stepped into the game of conquest.
“I wasn’t aware,” Jasnah said, “that you could forbid the queen from taking action.”
The control room hadn’t come with them. Instead, two enormous spren stood in the air nearby: the attendants of this gateway, thirty or forty feet tall, one marble white and the other onyx. Adolin raised a hand toward them as he stepped across the platform. “Thank you, Ancient Ones!” he called.
Storms, I love this man, she thought. For his humor, his brightness, his genuine goodness. With that smile, brighter than the cold Shadesmar sun, she became Shallan. Deeply and fully.
“Pressure that I asked for and welcome,” Jasnah said. “The quickest changes in history often happen during times of strife, and these are important moments. But you’re important too. To me. Thank you. For always being you, despite the rise of kingdoms and the fall of peoples. I don’t think you can understand how much your constant strength means to me.”
His touch is a flame never extinguished. Bright and alive, and the only smoke is in his eyes
Never underestimate the strength of a soldier trained to stand fast.
Never underestimate the worth of being willing to hold. Your. GROUND.
“The Nine,” Raboniel said, “are taking care to not lose our footing in this world. We have waited thousands of years for this chance; they do not wish to trip by running too fast.”
Smart Taravangian hated company. Smart Taravangian forgot the point of being around other people. Smart Taravangian was terrifying, but he would gladly have been that version of himself today. He would have welcomed the emotional anesthesia.
“I see you’re envious of those more skilled in the masculine arts than you, Ruthar,” Wit said. “I agree, you could use lessons on how to be a man—but those in this room would teach lessons far too advanced. Let me call in a eunuch to instruct you, and once you’ve reached his level, we’ll talk further.”
“How remarkable,” he said. “If you spend your life knocking people down, you eventually find they won’t stand up for you. There’s poetry in that, don’t you think, you storming personification of a cancerous anal discharge?”
“I will use my own unfortunate experience today as an example of why this is a terrible tradition. Ruthar’s blood will be the last such spilled. And as we leave this era of barbarism, each and every attendant at court will know that Alethkar’s first queen is a woman unafraid of doing what needs to be done. Herself.”
In that silence, Venli finally believed what Mazish had told her. In that silence, all of Roshar changed. Venli was no longer the last. And in that silence, Venli thought she could hear something distant beyond the rhythms. A pure tone.
“I will send such gems to your people as proof of my willingness to work together.” She turned to go. “If you intend to use ciphers to give hidden instructions to your scholars, kindly make them difficult ones. The spren I will use to unravel your true messages do like a challenge. It gives them more variety in existence.”
Time. It was a sadistic master. It made adults of children—then gleefully, relentlessly, stole away everything it had given.
“I am an artist,” Wit said. “I should thank you not to demean me by insisting my art must be trying to accomplish something. In fact, you shouldn’t enjoy art. You should simply admit that it exists, then move on. Anything else is patronizing.”
“It will,” Wit said, “but then it will get better. Then it will get worse again. Then better. This is life, and I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say. That is truth. I promise you, Kaladin: You will be warm again.”
Notum lowered his sheet, then said in a loud voice, “Honor is not dead so long as he lives in the hearts of men!”
As there was nothing left for Veil to protect Shallan from feeling, she began to fade. But as she faded, one last question surfaced: Did I do well? “Yes,” Shallan whispered. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Adolin stepped forward, but the honorspren at his side snapped the gag in warning. He forced himself back into parade rest and clenched his jaw.
“Because you need to kill,” Sekeir said, walking up to Adolin. “Humans are monsters, with a lust for death that can never be sated. You thrive upon the terrible emotions of the Unmade. You don’t fight Odium. You are Odium.”
Maya’s cries grew louder. Frantic, guttural, they weren’t proper shouts. They were the pained anguish of someone who had forgotten how to speak, but still needed to give voice to her agony.
She looked up at him and nodded. He nodded back. “Thank you.” “Stren…” she whispered. “Stren. Be…” “Strength before weakness.” She nodded again, then turned her scratched-out gaze toward the ground, exhausted.
“I meant a different test,” Blended said. “The true trial—the one you’ve been engaging in for the last few years: the test for this spren’s loyalty. She was the only judge who ever mattered, and today was her chance to offer judgment.” Blended leaned forward. “You passed.”
“Someone,” he said, “who wisely turned down the power the others all took—and in so doing, gained freedoms they can never again have. I, Jasnah, am someone who is not bound.”
“That’s why I’m so fond of you,” he said. “You are poised, you are smart, and you are always ready with a ploy; but when each of those things fails you, Jasnah, you are—above all else—paranoid.”
Timbre was firm. Some people charged toward the goal, running for all they had. Others stumbled. But it wasn’t the speed that mattered. It was the direction they were going.
“Look at it, Kal,” Tien said softly. “See the colors. If you think letting Teft die is a failure—but all the times you supported him are meaningless—then no wonder it always hurts. Instead, if you think of how lucky you both were to be able to help each other when you were together, well, it looks a lot nicer, doesn’t it?”
Power flooded Navani. Infused her, making her pain evaporate like water on a hotplate. Together, she and the Sibling created Light. The energy surged through her so fully, she felt it bursting from her eyes and mouth as she looked up at Moash and spoke. “Journey before destination, you bastard.”
Lirin dangled from the gauntleted fist of a Shardbearer in resplendent Shardplate. Armor that seemed alive as it glowed a vibrant blue at the seams, Bridge Four glyphs emblazoned across the chest.
Keep fighting, a voice said in his head. Salvation will be, Rlain, listener. Bridger of Minds. I have been sent to you by my mother, at the request of Renarin, Son of Thorns. I have watched you and seen your worthiness. Speak the Words, and do not despair.
Eventually, he stood up and embraced Teft’s statue. Then he wiped his eyes and nodded to Syl.
“Not luck,” Dalinar said. “Conviction. Brilliance. I was scared for you, but should have remembered when I was scared of you—and realized how much danger the Fused were in by trying to take your fabrials from you. You are incredible. You’ve always been incredible.”
FAREWELL, ESHONAI, the Rider of Storms said. FAREWELL, RADIANT. Bursting with songs, Eshonai let herself pass into the eternities, excited to discover what lay on the other side.
