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May 4 - June 14, 2025
She was a warmth in his arms, and he held to her as much as she did him,
CHILD OF HONOR.
“What have I done to her?” YOU HAVE KILLED HER.
MEN CANNOT BE TRUSTED, CHILD OF TANAVAST. YOU HAVE TAKEN HER FROM ME. MY BELOVED ONE.
“I’ve been searching for you, haven’t I?” Dalinar said. “All this time, without seeing it.”
The truth was, he liked Adolin. And those two were good for one another. They fit.
“Thank you,” Kaladin said to Dalinar, “for believing me.”
“As long as you don’t hurt my face, I suppose.” “Don’t be ridiculous. I like your face.”
He splashed through puddles of water, and found himself smiling because he wore the boots Shallan had stolen from him.
It was the day of the countdown he had scribbled on the walls without knowing. The last day.
The king was Dalinar’s Tien.
He ran to the body on the ground. Sureblood.
It was the voice of the Almighty.
“Still alive, bridgemen?” Adolin asked. “Still alive,” Skar said.
“Fleet kept running,” Kaladin growled, getting back under Elhokar’s arm.
“He couldn’t win, but he kept running. And when the storm caught him, it didn’t matter that he’d died, because he’d run for all he had.”
“Because a clever woman,” Adolin said, “once asked me to attack a boulder for her.”
This would be a sad place to die. A place away from the wind.
A duel. He could win a duel. Even in the middle of a storm, even against a monster, this was something he could do.
“I ran until . . . until I couldn’t any longer,” Kaladin whispered. “End of . . . the race.”
I will protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Strength before weakness. “You. Will. Not. Have. Him.”
He is mine! a feminine voice said. I claim him. HE BETRAYED HIS OATH.
“I will protect even those I hate,” Kaladin whispered through bloody lips. “So long as it is right.”
Glowing, brilliant, a Shardblade emerged from the mist, vivid blue light shining from swirling patterns along its length.
Then Kaladin exploded with Light.
“The Knights Radiant,” Kaladin said softly, “have returned.”
Lead them, Adolin. Unite them.”
“You two,” Adolin said, “are getting a storming raise.
It brought peace, and Dalinar finally set down that boulder, the one he’d been carrying for over six years.
Rats had a better chance fighting a chasmfiend.
A quick glance at his corpse told Adolin that the highprince would never rise again.
A dozen of the bridgemen formed up around him. Skar, at their head, looked to Adolin and nodded. Good men. They’d seen Roion’s fall, and still they joined him.
Lead them, Adolin. Unite them.
An attack. That was the way to go. “Father . . .” Adolin whispered. The assassin parried the thrust, then placed his hand against Dalinar’s chest. The highprince, suddenly glowing, lurched up into the dark sky. He didn’t scream.
His eyes afire with a light that somehow made the assassin’s seem dull by comparison, he wore the uniform of a bridgeman, and bore the glyphs of slavery on his forehead.
“but the sky and the winds are mine. I claim them, as I now claim your life.”
Szeth looked horrified. Good.
“You are what I’ve been looking for.” “Yes. Finally.”
He passed Bridge Four in a tight formation, and the men—at a barked command from Teft—threw something down before Kaladin. Blue lanterns, lit by oversized gems that had lasted the Weeping.
Burning with Stormlight, enraged and alight, Kaladin launched himself at the assassin and met him Blade against Blade.
“Ha! I knew there was something wrong with that man.”
Syl lived. Syl lived.
“Good to see you too,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “I hear you’re going to get us out of this mess.”
“You too?” he said. “Um . . .” She bit her lip. “Yeah. Sorry.” “Sorry? Storms, woman! Can you fly like he does?”
“They have,” Kaladin said, yanking his spear back. “And they’re going to kill you.”
“No. The wind is mine. The sky is mine. They have been mine since childhood. You are the trespasser here. Not me.”
“Then I was right all along. I was never Truthless. I could have stopped the murders at any time.”
“You’re wonderful,” he said. “Truly, Syl. You are.”
Kaladin strolled across them with Szeth’s Shardblade on his shoulder.
Iconic
