Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5)

by Brandon Sanderson

They had odd symbols on them, which made Kaladin nervous, but Wit insisted it wasn’t actual writing. Merely marks on a paper representing sounds. It took Kaladin a few minutes to realize the joke.

“It is the power and substance of the visions you were shown, starting years ago. It seeks for men to see their heritage, as it searches for a new Vessel to hold it.”

He danced through it, and Syl danced with him, both riding the eddies of the Wind. And if he’d ever known a perfect moment in his life—crystallized joy, like light made into something you could hold—this was it. Worries abandoned. No, worries battered away. Worries refused. In that—at the edge of the world and the advent of the end of all things—Kaladin Stormblessed allowed himself to be happy. For what felt like the first time since Tien’s death.

She put her hand on his, resting on her shoulder. “When did you get so good at talking to humans?” “I listen to you,” Pattern said softly. She smiled. “Then I do the opposite,” he added.

Two Heralds crested a hill nearby, and Shallan glanced away. Shallan … Veil said inside her. She forced herself to look back. At a woman with red hair, walking beside Jezrien the king.

If I don’t control myself, I can’t protect, can’t help. If I let what Tien’s death did to me happen again and again, I will break. I can’t keep a stranglehold on those I love. And finally, most potent of all: I have to live for myself. Let him go for now.

Wit, you crafty bastard.

HERE IN THIS WORLD I FOUND PERFECTION, A RELIC OF THE BEING I HAD SLAIN FOR HIS OWN GOOD. ROSHAR HAD BEEN GROWN ENTIRELY FROM EQUATIONS, AS A GRAND TESTAMENT TO THE DIVINE NATURE OF MATHEMATICS—A CELEBRATION OF THE INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN SONG, NUMBERS, AND ART.

“Unoathed! Arm up!”

You have let yourself become an attendant to your human, an auxiliary to his will.”

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