It seemed that Dalinar had been four people in his life. The bloodlusty warrior, who killed wherever he was pointed, and the consequences could go to Damnation. The general, who had feigned distinguished civility—when secretly, he’d longed to get back on the battlefield so he could shed more blood. Third, the broken man. The one who paid for the actions of the youth. Then finally, the fourth man: most false of them all. The man who had given up his memories so he could pretend to be something better.
