Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

This ends when you decide: kill him while he watches, or forfeit and die by your own hand.” *

A child taken by a monster and lied to for decades could not be held accountable for this decision.

He had been singer, Herald, human, god. In the Spiritual Realm, he had seen what Connected them all. Last of all, he stood here, knowing weakness. Not being enough … like a young man he loved who celebrated now in Azimir. Not enough … You could never be smart enough. Jasnah had learned that. Nor could you just keep fighting forever. Kaladin had learned that. You couldn’t be strong enough, nor could you be perfectly honorable. That was what it was to be mortal. Sometimes you succeeded anyway. Sometimes you failed. Dalinar had experienced the breaking of oath after oath. Humans turning on singers. Singers turning from Honor to Odium. He’d even seen a god trying, as best he could, and finding no way out but to break his word.

But Ishar, you will be warm again. And that is another thing entirely to promise.”

“What are you?” He gestured toward Szeth. “Are you … are you his spren? His god?” “No,” Kaladin said. “I’m his therapist.”

Honor was born again in Dalinar Kholin.

changed for us,” Rlain said. He pulled Renarin closer, then attuned Love. “It changed for us, Mishram.”

“I’ll pay the cost. Send me back.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Szeth said, sobbing. “I cannot go with you. Not … not this time.” Live, then, the shadows whispered. Live and do better.

what good is it to fight now? Why struggle? Why care? The Stormfather is gone. Jezrien is gone. We have lost, finally. Honor is dead.” “Yes,” a quiet voice said. “Honor is dead.” Both Heralds spun to see Kaladin Stormblessed slowly pushing himself up to a seated position, hair disheveled, blue uniform rumpled, dirt on his face.

“But,” Stormblessed said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Dalinar Kholin is dead.

“I,” Kaladin whispered, walking through that version, “accept this journey.” The air split with a crack of thunder. When the reply came, it was Syl’s voice. These Words are accepted.

“Welcome, Kaladin Stormblessed. Herald of Kings. Herald of the Wind. Herald of…” “Herald,” Kaladin said, “of Second Chances.”

Only one other came close, but those powers were misaligned, while Honor and Odium wanted nearly the same things.

He found only the man’s corpse, huddled beside the stone railing. His clothing ripped, his body bloodied. The damage done by the winds and tempest had been too much for Dalinar—but beneath him, sheltered from the storm, Gavinor survived, unconscious but alive. Protected in one last act of self-sacrifice.

Yes. Dalinar Kholin had died. But the Blackthorn would live.

“I’ll find you. I promise.”

Renarin closed his own eyes to the anguishspren floating around him and gave his father a final hug. Of the sort that Dalinar had always needed, despite everyone else—everyone but Renarin—thinking otherwise. Being strong didn’t mean that you didn’t need anyone. Those around you were the source of your strength.

I’m sorry, it said in Wit’s handwriting. You are right, and your letter to me was—characteristically—full of wisdom and excellent deductions. I accept that we cannot continue as we have … Goodbye. It might be a great long time before we see one another again, if ever. She laughed. Because what else could she do? Her letter had explained all the logical reasons they were bad for one another—but at this moment, all she wanted was someone to hold. She pulled the covers around herself.

Now, with her mother and Bila, she reached the pool and found the strange too-thick liquid returning. Welling up from the ground. The color was different, a brilliant black-blue. A new tone accompanied it, pulsing to a new rhythm. The … Rhythm of War? She knew its name instinctively.

and from the witness of my husband, Szeth, and the witness of the black sword he bears.

He sat up and stretched, feeling remarkably hale for someone who had been completely vaporized by a deity. But, well, they didn’t make deities like they once had.

A woman he’d loved.

I will find my way back to him.

The entire city would persist in here, isolated and protected from whatever he did in the cosmere. One perfect place of peace and love.

bothered him that few would know what Dalinar had achieved and sacrificed. But fortunately, at least one person did know, and he wasn’t exactly a quiet type. Dalinar Kholin’s true story would be told. Once the time was right, and Hoid could get back to Roshar.

everything is already doomed?” “I…” “One more try,” Kaladin whispered. “Just once more.” “Once more,” Kalak said. “A … final Return?” “We heal,” Kaladin said. “We reclaim ourselves. Then we go back to Roshar. This time, we win for real. Instead of coming back withered from torture, you’ll return refreshed. Mended, and we’ll see what we can do together.” One more try.

he’s only said one thing. He said … he forgives you all.”