Oathbringer (The Stormlight Archive, #3)

by Brandon Sanderson

“Well!” said Palona, hands on hips as she regarded Sadeas’s corpse. “I guess that’s one problem solved!” Everyone in the room turned toward her. “What?” she said. “Don’t tell me you weren’t all thinking it.”

Kaladin turned back and swept his arm before him, summoning Syl. A bright, dew-covered Shardblade formed from mist into his hand. He spun the Blade and rammed her down into the floor in one smooth motion. He held the grip, feeling his eyes bleed to blue. Everything grew still. Townspeople froze, gaping. Roshone’s eyes bulged. Curiously, Kaladin’s father just lowered his head and closed his eyes. “Any other questions?” Kaladin asked.

He grunted. “Or when you’re being uncommunicative.” She transformed into the shape of a young woman in a havah, seated in the air and holding an umbrella as she moved along beside him. “It is my solemn and important duty to bring happiness, light, and joy into your world when you’re being a dour idiot. Which is most of the time. So there.” Kaladin chuckled, holding a little Stormlight as he ran up the side of the next hill, then skidded down into the next valley.

“Hmmm,” Syl said. “I would be an excellent mother. I’d teach the little spren to fly, to coast the winds, to harass you.…” Kaladin smiled. “You’d get distracted by an interesting beetle and fly off, leaving them in a drawer somewhere.” “Nonsense! Why would I leave my babies in a drawer? Far too boring. A highprince’s shoe though…”

Some days, it seemed you couldn’t break Kaladin Stormblessed with all the stones on Roshar. Then one of his men would get wounded, and you’d see him crack.

“Ha!” Lunamor said. “Finding a smile on your face, Kaladin Stormblessed, is like finding lost sphere in your soup. Surprising, yes, but very nice too. Come, I have drink you must try.” “I need to get back to—” “Come! Drink you must try!”

“I could use some help with this bread,” Lunamor said. Renarin smiled immediately. All the youth ever wanted was to be treated like the rest of them. Well, that attitude benefited a man. Lunamor would have the highprince himself kneading dough, if he could get away with it. Dalinar seemed like he could use a good session of making bread.

“Fine, Skar,” Kaladin said. “Point made. Anyway, we don’t have a lot of time left before I leave with Elhokar. I’d like to push the recruits harder, see if they’re likely to be able to swear the oaths. Any thoughts?” “Shove them off edge of plateau,” Rock said. “Those who fly, we let in.” “Any serious suggestions?” Kaladin asked.

Failure is the mark of a life well lived. In turn, the only way to live without failure is to be of no use to anyone. Trust me, I’ve practiced.”