Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

“I could never figure out why these humans were so shy about the spot between their legs! Strange to my uncultured spren mind. Then I figured it out! Must be something pretty ugly down there, for everyone to be so afraid to show it! The ugliest thing I know of is a chull head. So when I made this body, I put one there.”

For years, Shallan had hated herself. Now she merely feared herself. That was progress.

Not Moash. He no longer missed Moash.

“I’m proud,” Kaladin repeated, drawing gloryspren. “Proud of who you are and what you’ve become. I don’t think there’s a captain all the world over who could feel more joy than I do right now, seeing you all. I started this two years ago in an effort to get a handful of sorry men to look up for a change. Little did I know they’d end up taking to the skies.”

It hadn’t yet been ready to move beyond his brands. Those were healed now, and as Kaladin settled down in a chair, the others gathered around and cheered as the tattoo artist started the proper glyphs on his head. Bridge Four. This time, the tattoo took.

“You three,” Kaladin said, “are all that’s left of our original command structure. You … well, you are among the best friends I have. I wanted to say thank you. Lopen, for your enthusiasm. Skar, for your support. Sigzil, for your concern.”

“You’re the right one, Sig,” Kaladin said. “I need the person who will keep them the safest. In this case, that’s the man who cares the most, who knows the most, and whose judgment I respect. You. If you don’t trust yourself, trust me.

I hunger for something I cannot describe.” Pancakes? the black sword—strapped to Szeth’s back—said in their minds. Szeth, I think it might be pancakes.

For they were her champions.

“I think he’s always been optimistic,” Adolin said. “You don’t jump in to save a doomed man unless you’re optimistic.” “Honor is dead…” Kaladin whispered. “You were wrong on that point though,” Adolin said. “Honor isn’t dead.”

“Wit made it sound like … well, he made me think I should see the people I care about before I leave. We never know what is going to happen tomorrow.” Then, remarkably—even though she’d already hugged him—he awkwardly bent and gave her a hug. He followed it by hugging Adolin—and if she were the jealous type, she’d have noted that Adolin’s hug was longer than hers.

“You and I,” she said, “were there at the start. We meet at the end, like Adolin said. When the world is safe, and Dalinar’s done what he needs to do, we can all laugh and joke again.”

“Shallan, you have to—” “Promise.” He sighed. “I can’t promise what the future will be.” “Reality warps around you, Kaladin. It always has. Promise me. If there’s a promise, then we can make it happen.”

“And what do you need?” Syl asked softly. “Always looking out for me, are you?” “It’s basically my only job.”

He was Taravangian, the divided one—and he could save them. All of them.

Relationships were about compromise, she had read, and so she’d procured a new bed. And she hated it.

Her life and Dalinar’s seemed very different. He’d burned a city, and people forgave him. He’d proclaimed the Almighty to be dead, and half the ardents had joined him. Yet when Jasnah was honest about her atheism, her thoughts on government, or her displeasure with traditions like the safehand … well, condemnation and judgment had chased her like twin headsmen, each looking to get a whipping in before the execution. When Jasnah Kholin spoke her mind, people hated her. Perhaps she’d learned the wrong lessons from that, but could she be blamed?

“Thank you,” he said. “For understanding?” “For trusting me to understand,” he said. “I’ve never begrudged you your secrets, Shallan, but now that you’re sharing them, I find them precious.”

“Don’t say it,” she told him, climbing to her feet. “What?” he said. “It’s absolutely allowed, even encouraged now.”

How many people who had cared for her would she have to kill?

“Honor’s power needs a host,” she said. “Whether or not that is you, and whether or not that solves your problems, remain to be seen.

“I do not make the tactical decisions, and so the burden of failure is not my own. At other times, I find myself a coward.”

“It’s not cowardly to know your own limitations, Excellency,”

“So we are not facing Rayse. My old enemy must be dead, and someone else has taken up the Shard of Odium.

“Hey,” she said. “Feeling real is enough. The things in our heads can be some of the most important things in our lives. Love is in our heads. Confidence. Integrity. All things we make up, but they’re still very important.”

Szeth-son-Honor

After so many, many years, his booted feet fell not on blasphemous stone.

forefinger massaging his forehead. “And in a way, he’s right, Navani. I didn’t raise him. He was always just … so perfect, all on his own. Or with Evi’s help, I suppose. I now realize I never did anything other than order him around.”

everywhere … Nah, don’t see it.” “You two are buffoons,” Gaz said. “I should have stayed a storming deserter. At least out in the wilds, everyone was too depressed to make small talk.”

“Someone,” he whispered to himself, “is going to eventually discover I’m a fraud, won’t they?” “You’re not a fraud,”

“Yes,” Wit said. “Ask your spren what happens if fragments of a god are left to their own devices for too long. They stand up, start walking about, and start riding around in people’s earrings. They start caring.

“I have yet to know a person,” Wit said, “who took up one of those Shards and didn’t regret it, my friend.”

I should not like to trust our freedom to another man’s sword. No matter how comically large said sword may be.”

“What are we, if we don’t have our word?”

Actually, there are a whole lotsa things the Almighty should fix and hasn’t. Wonder if he gets distracted by all the prayers.” “The fact that he’s dead,” Navani said dryly, “might be the most distracting part.”

At the very least, they had never known the tyranny of the storm—and so had never been forced to hide. He found beauty in that.

As an inanimate object with feelings, the sword said from Szeth’s back, I think I should be offended. “No offense was implied, sword-nimi,” Szeth said. Oh, good! I won’t kill you then. Ha ha.

“Scars exist,” Szeth said. “They are permanent once you bear them. So you endure. Not only physically, but mentally.”

“I exist. I do what is needed. Eventually, I will no longer exist. That is enough.”

“You are a person,” Dalinar said, “capable of growth. Capable of learning. If that is the case, then you are capable of mistakes.”

Regardless, if you look into the Spiritual Realm … you will see. Perhaps you will see. “See what, exactly?” Our shame.

“Don’t mind him, Brightness,” Palona said. “He’s having a rough time with how responsible he’s becoming.”

She suspected that if it came to a head, the lighteyes would discover how little “tradition” was worth in the face of centuries of pent-up rage.

Their homestead was nearby: a sturdy building constructed of boards, held together with wooden pegs. No metal, of course.

The Almighty has given us the limbs to move and the minds to decide. Let no monarch take away what was divinely granted.

Until we return, Zora, this cell is yours. You will take the seon and report directly to Master Thaidakar.”

“Sometimes,” she said, “it’s good to ask the questions long before you need the answers.

“Surely it has been done,” Dalinar said. Wit grew distant, a faint smile on his lips. “Once. It wasn’t a full Ascension, but a mortal did give up the power once. It proved to be the wrong choice, but it was the most selfless thing I believe I’ve ever witnessed. So yes, Dalinar, it is possible. But not easy.”

“Truly. What is your game?” Game, Shallan? I fight for survival. Odium will rip through anyone, anything, to get what he wishes. Thousands of years have proven he cares nothing for me or my children. Honor is a coward who always hated us. Destroyed us. Betrayed us. And all Cultivation does is watch.

“Master Thaidakar will see eventually,” Iyatil said. “He is smarter than you give him credit for. He works to protect his homeland above all else, but once we find Mishram for my purposes, he will see. Master Thaidakar can only protect his land if the Shards can be controlled. Will this fit your plans as well?”