Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

“You can’t ‘grow beyond’ the tide, Gavilar,” Thaidakar replied. “You swim with it or get swept away. Our plans are already in motion. Though to be honest, I don’t know that we did much. That tide was coming regardless.”

“I know where she is hidden,” Restares whispered. “Where her soul is. Ba-Ado-Mishram. Granter of Forms. The one who could rival Him. The one … we betrayed.”

‘I stand before him, above the world itself, and he speaks the truth. The Desolation is near … The Everstorm. The Night of Sorrows.’ Then she was gone.”

In the end, Gavilar Kholin, heir to the Heralds, died. As all men, ultimately, must. Alone.

While Stormlight healed his body instantly, his soul needed time.

“It just feels right,” he admitted, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She grinned. And storm him, he couldn’t help grinning back.

“Don’t you dare talk yourself into being miserable.” “Or what?” “Or I,” she thundered, “shall make silly faces at you. As I alone can.”

“Because the sacrifice was worth something, Shallan,” Pattern said, uncharacteristically reserved. “It worked. In the end you recovered, did better. I am still here. And remarkably, I am not even a little bit dead! I do not think you will kill me at all, Shallan! I am happy about that.”

“No,” she said. “I want to decide when I’m treated like a person. That doesn’t preclude me also wanting to be properly worshipped.” She smiled deviously. “I’ve been thinking of all kinds of things to make Lunamor do. If we ever see him again.”

“I wish I had fatherly advice for you,” Lirin said, “but you’ve far outpaced my understanding of life. So I guess, go and be yourself. Protect. I … I love you.”

who were speaking with a kind of spren that Kelek called a “seon.”

“Mmmm. Humans are … squishy. Not just bodies. Minds too. Memories too. Ideas too. Mmmm…” He sounded pleased by that.

“Would that any of us,” he said, “could protect ourselves from the costs heroism often requires. But again, if there were no cost, no sacrifice, then would it be heroism at all?

“I don’t know it all. I’d like to. Considering what breaking … breaking the bond did to me.”

“Very well. Though, you know when I said I was sure you wouldn’t get me killed?” “Yes?” “I should like,” he declared, “to make a retraction.”

“So…” Kaladin said. “Do you want your flute back?” “Hell no. I gave that to you, bridgeboy. Returning it would be almost as insulting as losing it!”

As infuriating as the man—or whatever he was—could be … when Kaladin had been in the worst darkness of the storm, Wit had traveled a nightmare to pull him free.

Listen to the Wind when it speaks, Kaladin. It’s weaker than it once was, but it has seen so very much.”

“You’re talking,” Kaladin said softly, “as if one of us won’t survive this.” “I wish I were optimistic enough to think one of us will survive.” “Wit, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you say you’re immortal.” “Immortality doesn’t seem to go as far as it once did, kid.”

“Dalinar is going to send you to Shinovar,” Wit said, “because he hopes Ishar can help with the contest of champions. Ishar can’t help, not like that, but you still need to go.” “Why?” Kaladin asked. “Why go if I can’t do what I’m sent to do?” “Because this is the journey, Kaladin,” Wit said softly. “The last part of it. Listen

“The wrong people get far too much mileage out of things that sound nice,”

“We need hope, Kaladin,” Wit said, leaning farther forward. “We’re heading straight toward what may be the most difficult moment in our lives. So remember: Hope is wonderful. Keep it, treasure it. Hope is a virtue—but the definition of that word is crucial. You want to know what a virtue truly is? It’s not that difficult.”

“A virtue is something that is valuable even if it gives you nothing. A virtue persists without payment or compensation. Positive thinking is great. Vital. Useful. But it has to remain so even if it gets you nothing. Belief, truth, honor … if these exist only to get you something, you’ve missed the storming point.”

If hope doesn’t mean anything to you when you lose, then it wasn’t ever a virtue in the first place. It took me a long time to learn that, and I finally did so from the writings of a man who lost every belief he thought he had, then started over new.” “Sounds like someone wise,” Syl said. “Oh, Sazed is among the best. Hope I get to meet him someday.” “When you do,” Kaladin said, “maybe some of his wisdom will rub off.”

“That’s it, eh?” Wit said. “Just you becoming your world’s first therapist.” Kaladin glanced at Syl, who shook her head. “We have no idea what that is, Wit.” “Because,” Wit said, “you haven’t finished inventing it yet.”

“You know what first drew me to you, Kaladin?” Wit asked. “You did one of the most difficult things a man can do: you gave yourself a second chance.”

You’ve lived for others for so long, Kaladin. What happens when you try living for you?”

“Wit,” Kaladin called just before the man vanished. “What about my story?” “You will tell your own story this time, Kaladin!” Wit said. “And if you’re lucky, the Wind will join in.”

For her, it was the day when a set of parents had, for the first time, wanted her.

“I am one person stretched thin, Radiant Kholin,” he said, standing with his hands clasped behind him. “Like colors on the mast that have waved too long in the wind. I don’t know what I believe or trust any longer, but what was done to you was not right. I could not play the sham role they demanded of me. I ask your forgiveness for even considering it.”

He saved me with no expectation of reward. In that moment I knew that Honor lived.”

Best speak to Midius—your Wit—about that. A fantodic man himself, that one.”

“Take a person from the darkness and show them that light still exists. It won’t fix everything, but it does make a difference.”

“Szeth, will you be fine here on your own for a while?” “I’m never alone,” the man said in his lightly accented voice. “Even without spren or sword, I’d have the voices.”

Who was Kaladin to do this? The only person available. Stormfather help them all.

So this kingdom has no heir to take over should something happen to me and Navani.”

“Sir,” he said, going stiff. “Please, no. I’m broken.” “Life breaks us,” Dalinar said. “Then we fill the cracks with something stronger.”

“I will not force this upon you, Kaladin. But I will ask, because I must. Will you be our heir?”

Nobility is not of the blood, but of the heart.

They brought the horse. They literally brought the storming horse. With Adolin riding it.

“You don’t need all of that, do you?” “Shallan,” he said, offended. “I’m traveling light! I’ve left ninety percent of my clothing.” “And brought all of your swords.” “I need them.”

“Take care,” Kelek said, “with your two bonds, child. You may see things that are not good for the healthy mortal mind.” “Fortunately, I haven’t had one in years,” she said, glancing back. “I make do with this one instead.”

“If I am to give you parting wisdom,” the Herald said, “it is this: just because something is fleeting, do not imagine it to be unimportant.”

“I want to be better,” he whispered. “We all do,” she said.

Perhaps the greatest miracle of her life was that Adolin had somehow managed to remain single until she arrived.

“The bonds form faster,” Leyten said, “because the way was paved by a brilliant, very brave spren pioneer.”

“Lopen will surprise you, Kal. He’s changing. Guess we all are, now that we don’t have you to watch over us. Kids gotta grow up sometime.”

“You’ll be back,” Skar said. “I don’t know if I will, Skar. Not this time.” “I was there when the storms tried to claim you. We went out to cut down a corpse, and found you alive. There’s more than a bit of the wind to you, Kal, and the east wind sees tomorrow before anyone else does. You’ll be back.”

My weapon … has never been a Blade, Radiant

“Reality,” Shallan hissed, “is what I decide it to be.”