Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

I deserve peace. The spear formed in his hand again, but then was Syl, laughing as they danced. I deserve to be happy. He tossed her as a spear from one hand, then caught her as a woman—Syl choosing when to be which, but him sensing each change. They turned, whirling, two hands holding two hands. I will enjoy this. I will let myself enjoy living. The darkness didn’t die, but it retreated as all darkness did before light. And as they twirled, Syl’s laughter calling to the sky, the Wind arrived and began dancing with them. The Wind began moving them both. Pushing him this way, then that. A swirling, gusting, powerful force. Alive, guiding his steps. I remember this, Kaladin thought. From my childhood. I remember moving, and the Wind joining me. I remember … peace and freedom. He danced through it, and Syl danced with him, both riding the eddies of the Wind. And if he’d ever known a perfect moment in his life—crystallized joy, like light made into something you could hold—this was it. Worries abandoned. No, worries battered away. Worries refused.