“A highstorm,” Kaladin said, shooting up through the sky after Szeth. “The red storm is from the Parshendi, but why is there a highstorm coming? This isn’t the time for one.” “My father,” Syl said, voice growing solemn. “He brought the storm, rushing its pace. He’s . . . broken, Kaladin. He doesn’t think any of this should be happening. He wants to end it all, wash everyone away, and try to hide from the future.”
