“I gave you people an order,” Kaladin said. “I’m not fond of repeating myself.” “And what,” Roshone said, “makes you think you can order anyone around, boy?” 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.
