Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

Moral victories didn’t matter when cities fell anyway. He’d always tried to fight for his kingdom and his family, while others played games and murdered in the night—but when he stood up for those he loved, he became a villain? For killing a man who had tried to do the same to him?

Second chance, Adolin. You’ve been given a second chance. You know what your father did with his. What will you do with yours?

know that to this day, people are confused by how at the end, spren began arriving in the East without the need for bonds. Notum, now among the most famous of honorspren, is an example. The answer is simple, however. As the lands began to think of them, and remember them, they needed less the bond of a single person to give them purchase in the Physical Realm. For the thoughts of an entire people bolstered them.

Because if you could do it all yourself, you wouldn’t need a sword at your side.

Sometimes, Maya said, you don’t need a Radiant or a Shardbearer. A person’s life isn’t meaningless because they can’t hit the hardest anymore, Adolin. At some point, you’re going to realize why you’re really here.

“Then we lose, Szeth,” Kaladin said. “Maybe we even die. But in doing so, we retain ourselves—because I tell you, there are worse fates.”

“Just as it didn’t matter,” Dalinar said, “if one boy could prove himself better than a lighteyes—the people deserved better lives anyway.”

“The burden you ten carried,” Kaladin said, “is unfair. And while trauma doesn’t excuse what you did, it does explain it. We can’t let you, or Ishar, hurt others—but that doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt yourselves. You have a right to receive help.”

“Every moment we live changes us, Navani,” he said. “Living the memories of gods has changed me above all.

“Because of the fire,” she said. “There is no need to trust someone who couldn’t hurt you, Dalinar. I trust you because you can hold that fire and not be burned.”

A figure stepped through, wearing a Kholin uniform, carrying a familiar Shardblade. Oathbringer, the Blade Dalinar had thought secure in his rooms. It was carried by a man who was shockingly, alarmingly familiar. Prominent nose. Lean build. Dark expression. Elhokar.

Wut

Yet something had changed in him. Or had been changing. His worth did not come from whether he helped. Only in whether he tried.

In that instant—as Adolin was flung toward his death—a burst of light, like sparks thrown by a hammer on steel, exploded from Abidi and became a swarm of embers. Which flashed to surround Adolin. Adolin crashed back-first into the wall, and the stone broke. But Adolin did not. Sir! the voices said. He became aware of strength. Metal surrounding him, bolstering him. Protecting him.

Oh fuCK yeah FINALLY

He felt satisfaction from the spren. This was … a design they knew? From long ago?

SLAY

“I am my own agent,” Szeth shouted. “I make my own choices. I. Am. THE LAW!” Light erupted around him.

YEAH!

It groaned and stirred, as Adolin Kholin—in Shardplate painted blue, shining between the joints with a flaming orange glow—strode out of the throne room.

About time!

She nodded, and he felt her thoughts. Oaths had fallen, but she would not let him fight alone. “Because in this case,” Adolin said quietly, “a promise is something deeper than an oath.”

Tears in his eyes, Adolin nodded. Then he raised his arm to salute the fallen warriors who had come to fight when others hid in their fortresses. In that moment, Adolin saw Honor. Alive and well.

Adolin thrust his hands to the sides, and a ring of Shardblades appeared around him in a wide circle, point first into the floor, each with a Plate helmet appearing from white mist, hanging from the pommel. “I said,” Adolin commanded, “ARM UP!”

This is so fuckkng cool

“I do not have much substance in this realm, but … well, ‘not much’ seems to be enough to control this Plate. The windspren have accepted me as their bearer.”

Omg

To a free Azir. And so far as he knew, the only kingdom in Roshar other than Urithiru that had stood successfully against the invasion.

HELL YEH

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.

“One is not enough. The change must come from many.”

The change to become this newest version of himself wasn’t about abandoning what he admired about himself. It was only about finding a healthy way to handle it.

“I will protect myself, so that I may continue to protect others.”

“Every parent must choose themselves or their child, every day—sometimes multiple times a day. When to play. When to rest. Every decision we make influences others, and sometimes harms them. That’s not the way of kings. That’s the way of life.”

“I learned that I don’t have to make that sacrifice,” he explained. “I can’t protect everyone, and I have made peace with that. It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to do what I can, and I’ve learned that I can help without losing myself. You spren have given your entire lives to your Radiants. I can repay that now.”

“Nobility has nothing to do with blood, Ishar. But it has everything to do with heart.”

Dalinar Kholin had been an absolute storming genius.

Adolin had survived that terrible night by telling himself he needed to see his father again, to make amends. He felt that last parting gift from Dalinar, but was still sad. He’d never have the chance to look Dalinar in the eyes again. Damnation, that hurt.

This really fucking sucks actually

Her hands went to her stomach, cradling it. Oh … oh storms.

If this is what i think it is, this is bullshit