Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Mishram is imprisoned,” Iyatil said. “Can any prison truly hold a god?”

“We shouldn’t have sent you in alone,” Darcira said. “Alone? Darcira, we both know my ego is big enough to count for between two and four people, depending on the day and my mood.”

“Mmm…” Pattern said, moving onto her clothing. “I am very glad you did not get killed while I was not here. I should like to be there when you die. It is a thing friends do for friends.”

“Mistress, please don’t use such crude terminology.” “That sword ardent does it.” “Zahel is not a role model.”

“He’s married, you know.” “Yeah,” she said, leaning farther to the side. “His husband’s hot too. Seems unfair. You’re hot, you can fly, and you have a hot husband? Windrunners, Wyndle, I’m tellin’ ya. Something’s up with them.

“How can you not want to grow up,” Wyndle said, “and still spend half your days ogling men? Don’t you see the contradiction?”

“I get the secret handshake?” he whispered. “Just don’t go sharin’ it,” she said. “It must remain special,” Gav added. “I … I’m honored,” Wyndle said.

Renarin found his mind drifting, and he kept glancing at Rlain.

“want to talk about it?” It? Renarin’s panic grew. What “it”? Was he supposed to know what this particular “it” was? I do not know, Glys said, equally worried. Is it us, maybe? They will always be afraid of us, I fear. “The way you look at Rlain,” Drehy said in response to Renarin’s apparent confusion.

I know you can carry a great weight, my friend. You’ve done it already.”

“I have spent,” Renarin whispered, “what feels like an eternity alone with these visions.

“I don’t know,” Renarin said. “But remember. Remember it can be lies.” “Why pay attention if it could all be lies?” “Because truth is just the lie that happened,” Renarin said.

“She … plays both sides,” Renarin admitted. “She’s told me as much.”

There are few paths in this universe I fear to walk. This is one of them.”

In short, despite first impressions, he had grown fond of her. However, that didn’t mean he liked the way that she worked by instinct. Accidentally joining a secret organization bent on ruling Roshar, then never finding a time to mention it to anyone until it became a crisis? In his experience, that was the most Shallan thing she could have done.

That kills both me and Radiant, and likely negates Pattern and Testament. Not that either were very useful. Testament hid behind Pattern, who stood with one hand to his chest, pattern spinning, like a woman whose garden party had just been spoiled by unexpected rain.

“Lift, you’re so highly Invested I’m surprised normal people can’t feel it. You glow so brightly to my life sense that you outshine anyone nearby. You’re sure Gavinor was here?”

“It’s not immoral to stop hurting, Szeth,” Kaladin said, looking back again.

“I’ve always been too good at killing. You recognize that; it’s what drew you to me.” “I was drawn,” she said, “to willpower, determination, and a desire to protect. Yes, I like the way you dance with the wind when you use a spear, but it’s not the killing, Kaladin. It never was.”

“This is your dark brain talking,” she said. “You weren’t killing when you rescued Bridge Four. You pulled thirty men out of the darkness and the chasms, then you forged them into something wonderful.” “Yeah,” he said. “I forged them into killers.” “A family,” Syl said. “Don’t try to distort it. I was there, Kaladin. You did it because you couldn’t stand to let them keep dying. You did it out of love.”

Storms. “Great,” Syl said. “That went well.” “Well?” Kaladin said. “He spouted nonsense at me, refused to listen, then vanished.” “He also didn’t vaporize us or anything,” Syl said, floating a foot or so up into the air, shining softly in the darkness, hair blowing once more as the breeze returned. “And he’s crazy—so, you know, some nonsense is expected. He noticed you and offered you a chance to talk to him again.”

The darkness was still there and wanted him to believe things would never change, but this little victory proved the opposite. Because while he might never be rid of the thoughts permanently, he was done letting them win.

Isolated as the others were, he could watch and prepare exactingly how to defeat each one. Only one of them held two Shards of power, but that one was unable to function properly. Odium’s predecessor had never taken a second Shard of power for that reason.

He was a god divided. What if he let each side rule in turn?

Together, he and his officers stepped out into the sunlight, and the breeze caught his cape, making it flutter. Yes. He was wearing a cape. It wasn’t standard. It was a little ostentatious. But Damnation, it looked good with this uniform, and he’d wanted to wear a formal uniform cape for literally a decade.

“Don’t assume I’ll dance whenever you sing.”

observances, didn’t take up weapons. Warfare wasn’t for those with morals. You didn’t kill a man, then refuse to walk on stones.

“Szeth, you still act like you’re some object to be toted around and used as a bludgeon.” “I am.” “No. You’re a person.”

To rely on human choice is to rely upon chaos itself.”

If a human can’t judge good and evil though, Nightblood said, then how can a sword?

Zahel? That’s him. Vasher changes his name sometimes. He never calls himself Warbreaker anymore! I liked that name, but he hates it. Isn’t that strange?

You should find Vivenna, Nightblood said. She promised she’d come looking for me if I was stolen! Anyway, I think maybe that ever since I was made, I’ve been … leaving dead people. I … have only recently started to think about it.

I’m not like a fleshy person. My brain, if I have one, is metal. I think that makes me … slow to change.

I don’t want to kill, Szeth. It doesn’t feel like me.

“Most people don’t know you like I do,” Kaladin said. “What is it, Syl? What’s bothering you?”

“We could…” His stomach twisted. “We could find you another knight, Syl. One worthy of you.” “Kaladin Stormblessed,” she said, glaring, lifting in the air to be at eye level with him. In her full-sized form, she was still smaller than he was, but somehow her ability to intimidate was not related to her size. “Don’t you dare say things like that.”

“People who think that we’re different,” Syl said, “don’t know you either. They look at you and see a perfect soldier.” “What do you see?” “Flaws,” she said. “Wonderful ones. I’ve never known perfection, Kaladin, but I should think it boring if I did.”

“I’m not perfect, Kaladin. I think our flaws are what make us the most similar. We’ve both spent far too much of our lives living for other people.” “Me for the bridgemen. And you … for me, right?” She nodded.

“Have you heard about the fixed brawl, Excellency?” “That’s what they call the fight where you nearly lost your Shards,” Yanagawn said. “Stormblessed saved you.” “I might not be here,” Adolin said, “if someone hadn’t stood up for me when it wasn’t their fight. I’m here for you and this city. I promise it.”

Since Shallan was off doing … well, he didn’t know what exactly. Shallan stuff—probably involving the fate of reality itself.

There wasn’t a lot else to do on the Shattered Plains. I dated basically everyone eligible and at least halfway interested. Wait, wait, Maya thought, laughing—something that was so good to hear from her. Adolin. Were you a slut?

“Help our allies, Adolin. Save this city. That’s what we are now.” “People who build,” Adolin said softly. “People whose lives mean something,” Aladar added. “Your mother would be proud of you too.”

“Many learn the wrong lesson. It is not that stone is mundane to one who kills, it is only that soldiers—living a life of destruction—are forced to defile it. Increasing their sin with each new weapon forged.”

“All this time the Shin knew that the enemy hadn’t been defeated? That the Heralds were among us?” “Obviously,” Szeth said. “We were the guardians of their swords. We were entrusted with their Sacred Truth.” “The way you say that has the air of something important,” Syl said. “Utmost importance,” Szeth said. “The Sacred Truth of the Heralds is the knowledge that the enemy would someday return. If Talmut ever broke. On that day, we Shin would be needed to fight.”

Death did not frighten him, but dying here … failing in his quest … That legitimately terrified him.

Storms. Bless the Fused for their insistence on announcing their titles and accolades; it gave Adolin time to set his stance.

“You came here to help Ishu-son-God see clearly,” Szeth said. “I think showing you are earnestly helping will do a great deal. Come.”

“They said you’d win me over. I said that you were a fop, a dandy who was more interested in clothing and duels than warfare.” “I think, actually,” Adolin said, “both of you were right. I’d much, much rather be choosing tomorrow’s wardrobe than be here killing. You?”

“Remarkable,” the man said, shaking his head. “You’re really the son of the Blackthorn?”

“I want to be enough,” he said. “I’m nothing more than a man with a sword and armor. That used to be enough.” Once, he’d been the best. Now that didn’t matter.