Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
I should have known I was being watched. All my life, the signs were there.
—From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 1
Kaladin felt good.
Not great. Not after spending weeks hiding in an occupied city. Not after driving himself to physical and emotional exhaustion. Not after what had happened to Teft.
He stood at his window on the first morning of the month. Sunlight streamed into the room around him, wind tickling his hair. He shouldn’t have felt good. Yes, he’d helped protect Urithiru—but that victory had come at an agonizing cost. Beyond that, Dalinar had made a deal with the enemy: in just ten days, the champion of Honor and the champion of Odium would decide the fate of all Roshar.
The scope of that was terrifying, yet Kaladin had stepped down as leader of the Windrunners. He’d said the proper Words, but had realized Words alone weren’t enough. While Stormlight healed his body instantly, his soul needed time. So, if battle came, his friends would fight without him. And when the champions met atop Urithiru in ten days—nine, since the first day was underway—Kaladin wouldn’t participate.
That should have made him an anxious, stewing pot of nerves. Instead he tipped his head back, sun warm on his skin, and acknowledged that while he didn’t feel great, someday he would feel great again.
For today, that was enough.
He turned and strode to his closet, where he picked through stacks of civilian clothing neatly laundered and delivered this morning. The city was a mere two days free from occupation and the fate of the world approached, but Urithiru’s washwomen soldiered on. None of the clothes appealed to him, and shortly he glanced at another option: a uniform sent by the quartermaster to replace the one Kaladin had ruined during the fighting. Leyten kept a rack of them in Kaladin’s size.
Kaladin had stuck the uniform to the wall with a Lashing last night, after Teft’s funeral, as a test. Urithiru was awake, with its own Bondsmith, making things… different. His Lashings normally lasted minutes at best—yet here this one was, ten hours later, still going strong.
Syl poked her head into his room—past the hanging cloth doorway—without any thought for privacy. Today she appeared at full human size and wore a havah rather than her usual girlish dress. She’d recently learned how to color her dress, in this case mostly darker shades of blue with some bright violet embroidery on her sleeves.
As Kaladin fastened the last buttons on the high collar of his uniform jacket, Syl bounced over to stand behind him. Then she floated a foot or so into the air to look over his shoulder and examine him in the mirror.
“Can’t you make yourself any size?” he asked, checking his jacket cuffs.
“Within reason.”
“Whose reason?”
“No idea,” she said. “Tried to get as big as a mountain once. It involved lots of grunting and thinking like rocks. Really big rocks. Biggest I could manage was a very small mountain—small enough to fit in this room, with the tip brushing the ceiling.”
“Then you could be tall enough to tower over me,” he said. “Why do you usually make yourself shorter?”
“It just feels right,” she said.
“That’s your explanation for basically everything.”
“Yup!” She poked him. He could barely feel it. Even at this size, she was insubstantial in the Physical Realm. “Uniform? I thought you weren’t going to wear one anymore.”
He hesitated, then pulled the jacket down at the bottom to smooth the wrinkles across the sides. “It just feels right,” he admitted, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
She grinned. And storm him, he couldn’t help grinning back.
“Someone is having a good day,” she said, poking him again.
“Bizarrely,” Kaladin said. “Considering.”
“At least the war is almost over,” she said. “One more contest. Nine days.”
True. If Dalinar won, Odium had agreed to withdraw from Alethkar and Herdaz—though he could keep other lands he controlled, like Iri and Jah Keved. If Odium won, they were forced to cede Alethkar to the enemy. Plus there was a greater cost. If Dalinar lost, he had to join Odium, become Fused, and help conquer the cosmere. Kaladin wanted to think that the Radiants wouldn’t follow as well, but he wasn’t certain. So many people thirsted for war, even without the influence of an Unmade. Storms, he’d felt it too.
“Syl,” he said, dropping his smile. “I’m sure more people are going to die. Perhaps people I care about, but I can’t be there to help them. Dalinar will have to choose someone else to be champion and—”
“Kaladin Stormblessed,” she said, rising higher into the air, arms folded. Though she wore a fashionable havah, she left her hair white-blue, flowing free, waving and shifting in the wind. The… nonexistent wind. “Don’t you dare talk yourself into being miserable.”
“Or what?”
“Or I,” she thundered, “shall make silly faces at you. As I alone can.”
“They aren’t silly,” he said, shivering.
“They’re hilarious.”
“Last time you made a tentacle come out of your forehead.”
“Highbrow comedy.”
“Then it slapped me.”
“Punch line. Obviously. All the humans in the world, and I picked the one without a taste for refined humor.”
He met her eyes, and her smile was still storming infectious.
“It does feel warm,” he said, “to have finally figured a few things out. To let go of the weight and step out from the shadow. I know darkness will return, but I think… I think I’ll be able to remember better than before.”
“Remember what?”
He Lashed himself upward, floating until he was eye level with her. “That days like this exist too.”
She nodded firmly.
“I wish I could show Teft,” Kaladin said. “I feel his loss like a hole in my own flesh, Syl.”
“I know,” she said softly.
If she’d been a human friend, she might have offered a hug. Syl didn’t seem to understand physicality like a human did, though where she’d been born—Shadesmar, the Cognitive Realm—she had a substantial body. He had the sense she hadn’t spent much time on that side. This realm suited her.
Dropping to the ground, Kaladin walked back to the window, wanting to feel the sunlight. Outside he saw the heights of the mountains, capped by snow. Wind blew across him, bringing with it fresh scents of clean, crisp air and a flock of windspren. Including those that made up his armor, who soared in around him. They stayed close, in case they were needed.
Storms, he’d been through so much so quickly. He felt echoes of an anger that had almost entirely consumed him at Teft’s death. Worse, the feeling of nothingness as he fell…
Dark days.
But days like this existed too.
And he would remember.
His armor spren laughed and danced out the window, but the wind lingered, playing with his hair. Then it calmed, still blowing across him, but no longer playful, more… contemplative. All through his life, the wind had been there. He knew it almost like he did his hometown or his family. Familiar…
Kaladin…
He jumped, then glanced at Syl, who was walking through the room in a half dance, half stride, her eyes closed—as if moving to an inaudible beat.
“Syl,” Kaladin said, “did you say my name?”
“Huh?” she said, opening her eyes.
Kaladin…
Storms. There it was again.
I need your help. I’m so sorry… to ask more of you…
“Tell me you hear that,” Kaladin said to Syl.
“I feel…” She cocked her head. “I feel something. On the wind.”
“It’s speaking to me,” he said, one hand to his head.
A storm is coming, Kaladin, the wind whispered. The worst storm… I’m sorry…
It was gone.
“What did you hear?” Syl asked.
“A warning,” he said, frowning. “Syl, is the wind… alive?”
“Everything is alive.”
He gazed outward, waiting for the voice to return. It didn’t. Just that crisp breeze—though now it didn’t seem calm.
Now it seemed to be waiting for something.
* * *
Shallan lingered atop Lasting Integrity, the great fortress of the honorspren, thinking about all the people she’d been. The way she changed, based on perspective.
Indeed, life was largely about perspective.
Like this strange structure: a hollow, rectangular block hundreds of feet tall, dominating Shadesmar’s landscape. People—spren—lived along the inside walls, walking up and down them, ignoring conventions of gravity. Looking down along one of the inside walls could be stomach-churning unless you changed your perspective. Unless you convinced yourself that walking up and down that wall was normal. Whether a person was strong or not wasn’t usually subject to debate, yet if gravity could be a matter of opinion…
She turned away from the heart of Lasting Integrity and walked along the very top of the wall. Looking outward to survey Shadesmar: rolling ocean of beads in one direction, jagged obsidian highlands—lined with crystalline trees—in the other. On the wall with her, an even more daunting sight: two spren with heads made of geometric lines, each wearing a robe of some too-stiff glossy black material.
Two spren.
She’d bonded two. One during her childhood. One as an adult. She’d hurt the first, and had suppressed the memory.
Shallan knelt before Testament, her original spren. The Cryptic sat with her back to the stone railing. The lines and pattern that made up her head were crooked, like broken twigs. In the center the lines were scratched and rough, as if someone had taken a knife to them. More telling, her pattern was almost frozen.
Nearby, Pattern’s head pulsed to a vibrant rhythm—always moving, always forming some new geometric display. Comparing the two broke Shallan’s heart. She had done this to Testament by rejecting the bond after using her Shardblade to kill her mother.
Testament reached out with a long-fingered hand, and Shallan—pained—took it. It gripped hers lightly, but Shallan had the sense that was all the strength Testament had. She responded to being a deadeye differently from Maya, who stood nearby with Adolin and Kelek. Maya had always seemed strong of body, in spite of being a deadeye. Spren broke in different ways, it appeared. Just like people.
Testament squeezed Shallan’s hand, bearing no expression but that torpid motion of lines.
“Why?” Shallan asked. “Why don’t you hate me?”
Pattern rested his hand on Shallan’s shoulder. “We both knew the danger, the sacrifice, in bonding to humans again.”
“I hurt her.”
“Yet here you are,” Pattern said. “Able to stand tall. Able to control the Surges. Able to protect this world.”
“She should hate me,” Shallan whispered. “But there is no vitriol in the way she holds my hand. No judgment in the way she remains with us.”
“Because the sacrifice was worth something, Shallan,” Pattern said, uncharacteristically reserved. “It worked. In the end you recovered, did better. I am still here. And remarkably, I am not even a little bit dead! I do not think you will kill me at all, Shallan! I am happy about that.”
“Can I heal her?” Shallan asked. “Maybe if I… if I bond her again?”
“I think, after talking to Kelek…” Pattern said. “I think you are still bonded to her.”
“But…” Shallan glanced over her shoulder at him. “I broke the bond. That did this.”
“Some breaks are messy,” Pattern said. “A slice with a sharpened knife is clean; a slice with a dull one is ragged. Your break, done by a child without full Intent, is ragged. In some ways that makes it worse, but it does mean that some Connection between you two persists.”
“So…”
“So no,” Pattern said. “I do not think that merely saying Words once more would heal her.” His head pattern spun a little more slowly, as if he were contemplating something profound. “These numbers are… perplexing, Shallan. Strangely irrational, in a sequence I do not understand. I mean… I mean that we are walking on unfamiliar ground. A better metaphor for you. Yes. Unfamiliar ground. In the deep past, deadeyes did not exist.”
It was what they’d learned, in part, from the honorspren and from Maya. The deadeyes—all of them except Testament—had been bonded to ancient Radiants before the Recreance. Together they’d rejected their oaths, humans and spren alike. They’d thought it would cause a painful, but survivable split. Instead, something had gone terribly wrong.
The result had been the deadeyes. The explanation might lie with Kelek, the very person Shallan had been sent to Lasting Integrity to kill. She squeezed Testament’s hand. “I’m going to help you,” Shallan whispered. “Whatever it takes.”
Testament didn’t respond, but Shallan leaned in, wrapping her arms around the Cryptic. Pattern’s robe always felt hard, yet Testament’s bent like cloth.
“Thank you,” Shallan said. “For coming to me when I was young. Thank you for protecting me. I still do not remember it all, but thank you.”
The Cryptic slowly, but deliberately, put her arms around Shallan and squeezed back.
“Rest now,” Shallan said, wiping her eyes and standing. “I’m going to figure this out.”
Chapter 2: Taking the Next Step
I first knew the Wind as a child, during days before I knew dreams. What need has a child of dreams or aspirations? They live, and love, the life that is.
—From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 3
Syl eventually trailed out of Kaladin’s room and into his family’s quarters. He lingered in the sunlight and wind, hovering, because why not? Light here was constantly replenished, and holding the tower’s new Light seemed not to push him to action the way Stormlight did. Instead, holding it was… calming.
Yet he jumped when a loud noise sounded from farther inside, a set of shockspren snapping into appearance around him, like breaking yellow triangles. When he reached the doorway, however, he found the noise was just his little brother, Oroden, clapping. Kaladin calmed his thundering heart. He had lately become more prone to overreact to loud noises—including ones that, upon reflection, were obviously nothing dangerous.
No further words came from the wind, so Kaladin hovered out into the main room, where Oroden was playing with his blocks. Syl had joined him. Though she could make herself invisible, she rarely chose to around his family. Indeed, last night they had discussed a new procedure: When she appeared with color on her clothing, like the violet on her sleeves, it meant she was visible to others. When she appeared as a uniform light blue, only he could see her.
“Gagadin!” the little boy said, pointing. “You need bocks!”
“You” in this case meant Oroden himself—who had noticed that everyone called him “you.” Kaladin smiled, and used his Light to make the blocks hover. Syl, shrinking down, hopped from block to block in the air as Oroden swatted them.
What am I doing? Kaladin thought. A contest for the fate of the world is approaching, my best friend is dead, and I’m playing blocks with my little brother?
Then in response, a familiar voice spoke from deep within him. Hold to this, Kal. Embrace it. I didn’t die so you could mope around like a wet Horneater with no razor. Unlike the wind, this didn’t seem anything mystical. Instead… well, Kaladin had known Teft long enough to anticipate what the man would have said. Even in death, a good sergeant knew his job: keep the officers pointed the right way.
“Fyl!” Oroden said, gesturing to Syl. “Fyl, come fin!” He started spinning in circles, and she joined in, twirling around him. Laughterspren, like silver minnows, appeared in the air. That was another difference in the tower lately—spren were everywhere, showing up far more frequently.
Kaladin sat on the floor amid hovering blocks, and was forced to think about his place. He wasn’t going to be Dalinar’s champion, and he wasn’t the leader of Bridge Four any longer. Sigzil went to important meetings in Kaladin’s place.
So who was he? What was he?
You are… the wind’s voice said softly. You are what I need…
He went alert. No, he was not imagining that.
His mother entered, wearing her hair tied with a kerchief, like she always had when working in Hearthstone. She settled down next to him, nudged him in the side, then handed him a bowl with some boiled lavis grain and spiced crab meat on top. Kaladin dutifully started eating. If there was a group more demanding than sergeants, it was mothers. When he’d been younger such attention had mortified him. After years without, he found he didn’t mind a little mothering.
“How are you?” Hesina asked.
“Good,” he said around a spoonful of lavis.
She studied him.
“Really,” he said. “Not great. Good. Worried about what’s coming.”
A block floated past, steaming with Towerlight. Hesina tapped it with a hesitant finger, sending it spinning through the room. “Shouldn’t those… fall?”
“Eventually, maybe?” He shrugged. “Navani has done something odd to the place. It’s warm now, the pressure equalized, and the entire city is… infused. Like a sphere.”
Water flowed on command from holes in the walls, and you could control its temperature with a gesture. Suddenly a lot of the strange basins and empty pools in the tower made sense; they had no controls, because you activated them by speaking or touching the stone.
Syl got Oroden twirling, then left him dizzy and with a few blocks as a distraction. She popped to human size again and flopped onto her back next to Kaladin and Hesina, her face coated in an approximation of sweat. He noticed a new detail: Syl’s havah was missing the long sleeve that would cover the safehand, and she wore a glove—or she’d colored her safehand white and given it a cloth texture. That wasn’t odd; Navani always wore a glove these days to leave both hands free. It surprised him that Syl was wearing one though. She’d never bothered before.
“How do small humans keep going?” Syl said. “Where does their energy come from?”
“One of the great mysteries of the cosmere,” Hesina said. “If you think this is bad, you should have seen Kal.”
“Oooooh,” Syl said, rolling over and looking to Hesina with wide eyes, her long blue-white hair tumbling around her face. No human woman would have acted in such a… casual way in a havah. The tight dresses, while not strictly formal, weren’t designed for rolling around on the ground barefoot. Syl, however, would Syl.
“Embarrassing childhood stories?” the spren said. “Go! Talk while his mouth is full of food and he can’t interrupt you!”
“He never stopped moving,” Hesina said, leaning forward. “Except when he finally collapsed at night to sleep, giving us brief hours of respite. Each night, I would have to sing his favorite song and Lirin would have to chase him—and he could tell if Lirin was giving a halfhearted chase, and would give him an earful. It was honestly the cutest thing to see Lirin being scolded by a three-year-old.”
“I could have guessed Kaladin would be tyrannical as a child,” Syl said.
“Children are often like that, Syl,” his mother said. “Accepting only one answer to any question, because nuance is difficult and confusing.”
“Yes,” Kaladin said, scraping the last of the lavis from his bowl, “children. That’s a worldview that, obviously, solely afflicts children—never the rest of us.”
His mother gave him a hug, one arm around his shoulders. The kind that seemed to grudgingly admit that he wasn’t a little boy anymore. “Do you sometimes wish the world were a simpler place?” Hesina asked him. “That the easy answers of childhood were, in truth, the actual answers?”
“Not anymore,” he said. “Because I think the easy answers would condemn me. Condemn everyone, in fact.”
That made his mother beam, even though it was an easy thing to say. Then Hesina’s eyes got a mischievous sparkle to them. Oh, storms. What was she going to say now?
“So, you have a spren friend,” she said. “Did you ever ask her that vital question you always asked when you were little?”
He sighed, bracing himself. “And which question would that be, Mother?”
“Dungspren,” she said, poking him. “You were always so fascinated by the idea.”
“That was Tien!” Kaladin said. “Not me.”
Hesina gave him a knowing stare. Mothers. They remembered too well. Shamespren popped into existance around him, like red and white petals. Only a few, but still.
“Fine,” he said. “Maybe I was… intrigued.” He glanced at Syl, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. “Did you… ever know any?”
“Dungspren,” she said flatly. “You’re asking the sole living Daughter of Storms—basically a princess by human terminology—this question. How much poop do I know?”
“Please, can we move on?” Kaladin said.
Unfortunately, Oroden had been listening. He patted Kaladin on the knee. “It’s okay, Gagadin,” he said in a comforting voice. “Poop goes in potty. Get a treat!”
This sent Syl into a fit of uproarious laughter, flopping onto her back again. Kaladin gave Hesina his captain’s glare—the one that could make any soldier go white. Mothers, however, ignored the chain of command. So Kaladin was saved only when his father appeared in the doorway, a large stack of papers under his arm. Hesina walked over to help.
“Dalinar’s medical corps tent layouts and current operating procedures,” Lirin explained.
“‘Dalinar,’ eh?” she said. “A few meetings, and you’re on a first-name basis with the most powerful man in the world?”
“The boy’s attitude is contagious,” Lirin said.
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with his upbringing,” Hesina replied. “We’ll instead assume that four years in the military somehow conditioned him to be flippant around lighteyes.”
“Well, I mean…” Lirin and Hesina glanced at their son.
Kaladin’s eyes were a light blue these days, never fading back to their proper dark brown. It didn’t help that although he was sitting, he was hovering an inch off the ground. Air was more comfortable than stone.
The two of them spread the pages out on the counter at the side of the room. “It’s a mess,” Lirin said. “His entire medical system needs to be rebuilt from the ground up—with training in how to properly sanitize. Apparently many of his best field medics have fallen.”
“Many of his best in all regards have fallen,” Hesina said, scanning the pages.
You have no idea, Kaladin thought. He glanced at Syl, who had sidled over to sit closer to him, still human size. Oroden was chasing blocks again, and Kaladin…
Well, despite his tension, he let himself bask in it. Family. Peace. Syl. He’d been running from disaster to disaster for so long, he’d completely forgotten this joy. Even eating stew with Bridge Four—precious moments of respite—had felt like a gasp of air when drowning. Yet here he was. Retired. Watching his brother play, sitting next to Syl, listening to his parents chat. Storms, but it had been a wild ride. He’d managed to survive.
And it wasn’t his fault that he had.
Syl rested her head—insubstantial though it was—on his shoulder as she watched the floating blocks. It was odd behavior for her, but so was her being human size.
“Why the full size?” he asked her.
“When we were in Shadesmar,” she said, “everyone treated me differently. I felt… more like a person. Less like a force of nature. I’m finding I missed that.”
“Do I treat you differently when you’re small?”
“A little.”
“Do you want me to change?”
“I want things to change and be the same all at once.” She looked to him, and probably saw that he found that completely baffling. She grinned. “Suffice it to say that I want to make it harder for certain people to ignore me.”
“Is being this size more difficult for you?”
“Yup,” she said. “But I’ve decided I want to make that effort.” She shook her head, causing her hair to swirl around. “Do not question the will of the mighty spren princess, Kaladin Stormblessed. My whims are as inscrutable as they are magnanimous.”
“You were just saying you want to be treated like a person!” he said. “Not a force of nature.”
“No,” she said. “I want to decide when I’m treated like a person. That doesn’t preclude me also wanting to be properly worshipped.” She smiled deviously. “I’ve been thinking of all kinds of things to make Lunamor do. If we ever see him again.”
Kaladin wanted to offer her some consolation, but he honestly had no idea if they’d ever see Rock again. This was a different shade of pain, distinct from the loss of Teft, distinct from the loss of Moash—or the man they’d thought Moash had been.
That brought the reality of the situation back to him, along with the strange warnings the wind had whispered. He found himself speaking. “Father, what’s the battle look like currently? A ten-day deadline. Seems like everyone might simply rest and wait it out?”
“Not so, unfortunately,” Lirin said. “I’m warned to expect heavy casualties in the next few days, as Dalinar anticipates the fighting will last right up until the deadline—in fact, he fears the enemy might push harder to capture ground in the Unclaimed Hills and the Frostlands. Apparently, per the agreement, whatever each side holds when the deadline arrives… that’s what they get to keep.”
Storms. Kaladin imagined it: fierce battles over unimportant, uninhabited land—but which both sides wanted to hold nonetheless. His heart bled for the soldiers who would die in the nine days before it all would end.
“Is this the storm?” he whispered.
Syl glanced at him, frowning. But he wasn’t talking to her.
No… that voice replied. Worse…
Worse. He shivered.
Please… the wind said. Help…
“I don’t know if I can help,” Kaladin whispered, hanging his head. “I… don’t know what I have left to give.”
I understand, it replied. If you can, come to me.
“Where?”
Listen to the Bondsmith…
He frowned. The day before, Dalinar had mentioned having a duty for Kaladin in Shinovar, involving the Herald Ishi and some “odd company.” Kaladin had already resolved to go. So perhaps he could help.
Come to me, the wind repeated. Please…
There was a highstorm tonight, and Kaladin had thought to use it—and the Stormlight it offered—to get to Shinovar. However, Dalinar had promised him more details before he left. So, taking a deep breath, Kaladin stood and stretched.
It had been wonderful to spend time with his family. To remember that peace. But even as worn out as he was, there was work for him to do yet.
“I’m sorry,” he said to his parents. “I’ve got to go. Dalinar wants me to try to find Ishi, who has apparently gone mad. Not surprising, considering how Taln and Ash are faring.”
His mother gave him an odd look, and it took him a moment to realize it was because he was speaking so familiarly of Heralds—figures of lore and religious devotion the world over. He didn’t know any of them well, but it felt natural to use their names like that. He’d stopped revering people he didn’t know the day Amaram branded him.
God or king. If they wanted his respect, they could earn it.
“Son,” Lirin said, turning away from his many sheets of paper. From the way Lirin said the word, Kaladin braced himself for some kind of lecture.
He was unprepared for Lirin to walk over and embrace him. Awkwardly, as it wasn’t Lirin’s natural state to give this sort of affection. Yet the gesture conveyed emotions Lirin found difficult to say. That he’d been wrong. That perhaps Kaladin needed to find his own way.
So Kaladin embraced him too, and let the joyspren—like blue leaves—swirl up around them.
“I wish I had fatherly advice for you,” Lirin said, “but you’ve far outpaced my understanding of life. So I guess, go and be yourself. Protect. I… I love you.”
“Stay safe,” his mother said, giving him another side hug. “Come back to us.”
He gave her a nod, then glanced at Syl. She’d changed from a havah to a Bridge Four uniform, trimmed in white and dark blue, with her hair in a ponytail like Lyn usually wore. It was strange on Syl—made her look older. She’d never truly been childlike, despite her sometimes mischievous nature—and her chosen figure had always been that of a young, but adult, woman. Girlish at times, but never a girl. In uniform, with her hair up and wearing that glove on her safehand she seemed more mature.
It was time to go. With a final hug for his brother, Kaladin strode out to meet his destiny, feeling like he was in control for the first time in years. Deciding to take the next step, rather than being thrust into it by momentum or crisis.
And while he’d woken up feeling good, that knowledge—that sense of volition—felt great.
Welcome back to our Wind and Truth read-along, Sanderfans and Cosmere Chickens! This week, we’re talking about chapters 1 and 2 of the book. As you may have noticed from our Prologue discussion, we’re approaching these discussions a bit differently than usual. Paige is summarizing the chapters and adding commentary, Lyndsey is talking about chapter headers and spotlighting individual characters, and Drew is focusing on larger Cosmere connections and magic systems. We also have a new section wherein we discuss reader comments and theories in the read-along article and/or on various social media platforms. So please join the discussion here or on your preferred platform, and maybe you’ll see yourself quoted in future articles!
As always, we have to include a warning that there will likely be full Cosmere spoilers here, especially given the way Rhythm of War discussed wider Cosmere goings on and, as we saw in the prologue last week, it looks like Wind and Truth will do the same. So if you’re not caught up on all Cosmere works to date, you may want to bookmark this for a later date… unless you don’t mind spoilers, in which case, have at it!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
This week, we’re getting a sneak peek at chapters 1 and 2. As you likely noticed, chapter 1 is rather short and we see a smidge of both Kaladin and Shallan, while chapter 2 is solely a Kaladin point of view. I’m interested to hear everyone’s thoughts on these chapters, so let’s get to it and talk it through…
Chapter 1 is titled “Unfamiliar Ground” and it opens with an epigraph with a quote from page 1 of Knights of Wind and Truth, which we take to be an in-world volume, just like every other Stormlight Archive book title, and which I’m sure fans of the title ketek theory will love. It reads: “I should have known I was being watched. All my life, the signs were there.” This piques our interest and we have to wonder who wrote the book… Who do you think it might be, Sanderfans? Whatever the case, we look forward to more epigraphs, as we didn’t get to see those during the beta read!
We go on to find Kaladin feeling good. Like, really good. Weird, right? He’s aware that there will still be dark days but then he knows things can be good, even great, again. Suffering from bipolar depression myself and knowing how dark it can sometimes get, I relate strongly to Kaladin, so it’s really nice to see him feeling happy!
He does have a moment when Syl says she feels something odd on the wind and Kaladin feels the wind speaking to him: “A storm is coming, Kaladin, the wind whispered. The worst storm… I’m sorry…” He asks Syl if the wind is alive and she tells him that everything is alive.
Next we see Shallan at the top of Lasting Integrity with Pattern and Testament. She’s feeling bad over the whole broken bond thing and Pattern is his usual chipper self, comforting her with the fact that at least she didn’t kill him! I love Pattern’s enthusiasm about everything. Shallan wonders if she could rebond Testament and heal her, and Pattern responds that according to Kelek, she is likely still bonded to the deadeye. The scene ends with Shallan hugging Testament and promising that she’ll help her. It’s touching when Testament slowly hugs her back.
Chapter 2 is titled simply, “Family.” Its epigraph is from page 3 of Knights of Wind and Truth and reads:“I first knew the Wind as a child, during days before I knew dreams. What need has a child of dreams or aspirations? They live, and love, the life that is.” So, is the Wind (note the capital letter) the same voice that speaks to Kaladin in chapter 1 and tells him the worst storm is coming? Could the wind and the Wind be the same?
This chapter picks up with Kaladin again, getting suddenly spooked by the sound of Oroden clapping his hands. He thinks of how he overreacts to loud noises and, pardon my detour into a personal story here, but it relates… Kaladin being startled by noises makes me think of one of my cats, Weezy (who’s gone now, sadly). He liked to go outside at night and roam. Every morning, I’d get up and go to the door to find him waiting to come in and eat and nap. Occasionally, he wouldn’t be there but I’d clap and call his name and he’d come running. One night he went out and it started raining. It was the monsoon season and it rained for days. He never came home after that, and my daughter and I searched and searched, canvassing the neighborhood and putting up signs. Eight months later, my daughter was at the animal shelter and saw Weezy, terrified in his cage and nearly feral. We brought him home and isolated him from our other two cats so he could acclimate. I spent every evening after work with him, just sitting and letting him come to me if he wanted to be petted. Recuperation took a while, but even for years after, loud noises would freak him the crem out. Thunder, shaking a trash bag out, a knock on the door… poor guy was just traumatized.
Thank you for listening to my kitty story… back to chapter 2!
Kaladin thinks of the enormity of the impending contest of champions and begins to chastise himself for playing blocks with his brother. Then he hears a voice again, telling him to “hold to this,” but doesn’t attribute it to the wind, instead thinking that he had known Teft well enough that he could anticipate what Teft would say. Kaladin thinks of how he’s not Dalinar’s champion and no longer the leader of Bridge Four, and wonders who and what he is now. Again, he hears a voice: “You are…You are what I need…” He knows he didn’t imagine that and, because Syl didn’t hear it, Kaladin snaps to attention. Then Hesina enters and, as moms are wont to do, feeds him.
When Lirin arrives, he begins talking about the messiness of Dalinar’s medical corps layout. He says the whole system “needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.” Kaladin expects things to be quiet until the contest of champions but Lirin disabuses him of that notion, warning him that Dalinar expects heavy casualties before the deadline. Kaldin thinks about all of the senseless death that’s about to occur and quietly asks the voice if this is the storm. Syl looks at him oddly for talking to himself but the voice answers, “No…Worse…” Then the voice pleads for Kaladin’s help and he says that he doesn’t know what he has left to give. The voice continues, “If you can, come to me,” and Kaladin asks where. He’s told to listen to the Bondsmith.
Kaladin also has a short interaction with Syl prior to asking Lirin about the war. She’s full-sized and they talk about whether she prefers that or being small. It’s more work for her to be full-sized, of course, but she says she feels that she’s treated more like a person, like when she’s in Shadesmar. Then, after his exchange with the voice, Kaladin rises to go talk to Dalinar, mentioning that he’ll need to try to find Ishi. After Hesina gives him an odd look for talking about Heralds and their madness so casually, Lirin actually goes to Kaladin and hugs him. (It’s a nice moment, but I still give Lirin the side-eye whenever he’s around.)
Syl changes into a Bridge Four uniform with her hair in a ponytail, and Kaladin thinks of how it makes her look more mature in uniform, with a glove on her safehand. Even though she has sometimes seemed girlish, she was never a girl, so to speak. Not sure why Kaladin is thinking about how mature she is, but okay.
So, Sanderfans, let’s talk about some of the pressing questions we’re left with:
Who might be writing these words in Knights of Wind and Truth? What is the Wind? And why is it speaking to Kaladin now? What do you think the Bondsmith (I’m assuming the Wind means Dalinar here and not Navani) will tell Kaladin, or ask of him? Is it what Dalinar mentioned before, asking Kaladin trying to help Ishar with his mental state?
Is Dalinar right that there will likely be heavy casualties in the coming days? Will he be involved in any fighting alongside the Coalition armies? Or will he be busy preparing for the contest of champions?
Is Shallan going to be able to bring Testament closer to speaking and talking about her experiences (as Mayalaran does)? I really hope so, because I’d like to know why she came to Shallan when Shallan was so very young for a spren bond. It would certainly be interesting to see.
Let us know what questions or theories you have!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Characters and Relationships
There’s one thing I’d like to bring back from the old re-read format, and that’s a little discussion/analysis of the front matter: the chapter headings and quotes at the beginning of each chapter. The Heralds depicted on the chapter heading drawings often have some bearing on the chapter, and I’ve always found that to be an interesting (and subtle) touch throughout the books.
Kaladin and Shallan’s chapter is headed by Palah (Paliah), Herald of the Truthwatchers. Her aspects are “Learned/Giving” and her role is “Scholar.” Also of note is that she’s depicted in all four Herald spots, indicating a strong link between her and the characters/events. In this chapter we’re seeing Kaladin in a more relaxed state of mind. Perhaps this chapter header is meant to foreshadow something about his character arc for the rest of the book. He’s always been a leader, but without a squadron of people to lead, perhaps he’ll take on a more scholarly role. We’ve certainly seen him do that in the past when it comes to teaching his men the basics of healing, not to mention his spear training. As for Shallan’s part, she states that her goal is to help Testament no matter what. That certainly strikes me as “giving.”
Chapter two’s header features Vedeledev (Vedel), Herald of the Edgedancers in all four spots. Her aspects are “Loving/ Healing” and her role is “Healer.” This one seems pretty obvious. Kaladin’s entire chapter here has to do with healing himself, and with family love.
As for the quotes at the beginning of these chapters…
Sanderson likes to drop little quotes at the beginning of chapters in all his Stormlightbooks, using them to add a little more worldbuilding flavor in some cases. We can also glean some very enlightening hints as to broader Cosmere workings from them (as in Hoid’s letters in Rhythm of War), or they can be portents of the past/things to come (the death rattles in The Way of Kings).
I should have known I was being watched. All my life, the signs were there.
—From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 1
In this case, we seem to be getting excerpts from the in-world book sharing the name of the novel. As noted above, this has been a recurring theme in the Stormlight Archive; each novel has a corresponding in-world book with which it shares its title. It’s rare to have that revelation dropped on us so swiftly, but we do still have a lot of questions. Who’s the author? I’d assume a Knight Radiant, as we have proof of spren watching several Radiants from an early age with the intent to Bond them. Shallan is probably the best example, but there are others as well, so there’s precedent. Which Radiant in particular is penning this book? We’ll have to keep an eye on these to try to figure it out.
I first knew the Wind as a child, during days before I knew dreams. What need has a child of dreams or aspirations? They live, and love, the life that is.
—From Knights of Wind and Truth, page 3
I think it would be a good bet that our mystery author is a Windrunner, given that they’re talking about knowing the Wind (capitalization is important!) as a child.
And with that out of the way, let’s move on to chatting about the characters and relationships!
Kaladin
Kaladin felt good.
Hoo boy. Those are some nice words to read, eh? We’ve been waiting so long for poor Kal to experience a reprieve from the darkness surrounding him. He suffers from depression, and his life has been so hard up until now. I know I’m not the only one who’s been rooting for him from the get-go, so seeing him finally in a better place is just so gratifying. However, the second chapter is here to remind us that, though Kal’s doing better, he’s still not “fixed.”
He had lately become more prone to overreact to loud noises—including ones that, upon reflection, were obviously nothing dangerous.
There’s some PTSD here, clearly. Understandable, considering all the terrible things he’s witnessed and had to do in battle. Kaladin still has some healing to do. It’s a bit of a comfort to know that Teft’s voice is still in his head, giving him a much-needed berating when necessary.
As for his character arc? A first chapter for a character usually gives us our starting point, from which our POV character begins to change and grow. It looks likely that the strange voice he’s hearing in his head will have something to do with the plot, but his inner character arc is likely going to center around these questions: “So who was he? What was he?”
Everything Kaladin thought he was has been stripped away; he’s left without an identity or purpose.
Syl
“Last time you made a tentacle come out of your forehead.”
“Highbrow comedy.”
“Then it slapped me.”
“Punch line. Obviously.”
It’s also nice to see that Syl is still… well, Syl. Interesting that she’s making herself appear larger now, though. To put herself on an equal footing with everyone around her, as she states in chapter two. She didn’t want to be “smaller” than everyone else anymore.
She looked to him, and probably saw that he found that completely baffling. She grinned. “Suffice it to say that I want to make it harder for certain people to ignore me.”
Well, that one’s sure to set all the Kal/Syl shippers foaming at the mouths. Syl wearing her hair like Lyn (one of Kaladin’s exes) and presenting herself as being more mature are a bit suspicious, too.
He was unprepared for Lirin to walk over and embrace him. Awkwardly, as it wasn’t Lirin’s natural state to give this sort of affection.
Wow. That’s a nice surprise! It’s no secret from previous rereads that I’m not Lirin’s biggest fan. This display of affection is very out of the norm for him, and it’s incredibly nice to see him acting like a parent for a change rather than a judgmental d***head.
Shallan
Two spren.
She’d bonded two. One during her childhood. One as an adult. She’d hurt the first, and had suppressed the memory.
Speaking of healing from trauma… Shallan’s been through arguably even more than poor Kaladin. Not that suffering is a competition or anything, but this poor girl’s been through the wringer. The revelation at the end of book 4 that she’s had another (deadeye) spren this whole time was just as shocking to most of us as it was to her.
I’d argue that unintentionally hurting a friend leaves a deeper wound than many would expect, and Shallan’s used a multitude of questionably healthy tricks to cover that wound up. Now that it’s been revealed, what’s she going to do with it? It’s great to see her trying to figure out ways to help Testament rather than just shutting those memories away. It looks as though that might wind up being her major arc in this book, unless Sanderson throws us another curveball. He does like to do that…
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts and Theories
After a whole cascade of craziness in the prologue of Wind and Truth, this week’s preview chapters take a breezy step back. We’re setting things up now, rather than concluding them… but that doesn’t mean nothing of note happens in these chapters, when it comes to magic and theorycrafting.
We spend a lot of time right off the jump focusing on spren and their bonds. Kaladin may be having a relaxing, “good” day, but Syl is right there alongside him. And she’s acting a little differently since the events of Rhythm of War.
Today she appeared at full human size and wore a havah rather than her usual girlish dress. She’d recently learned how to color her dress, in this case mostly darker shades of blue with some bright violet embroidery on her sleeves.
Syl made an effort in Rhythm of War to understand Kaladin better, to adapt herself to more human patterns of thought. She’s continuing that here, but in a more overtly mature way. Something as simple as the size she presents is a clear indicator, but she’s also styling herself after the women she sees around Kaladin.
He noticed a new detail: Syl’s havah was missing the long sleeve that would cover the safehand, and she wore a glove—or she’d colored her safehand white and given it a cloth texture.
Another sign, toward the end of chapter 2, that Syl is working to be seen as something more serious than just a little magic girl. While she may go around talking about being a splinter of a god, it’s almost always tongue-in-cheek—but this is a new affectation, and notably one that Navani shares. Syl is growing just as Kaladin is, and each new Ideal he swears seems to be giving her more and more capacity.
And speaking of capacity, Syl is interacting with the Physical Realm more than ever. We’ve seen her ability to do so as far back as The Way of Kings, when she brings Kaladin the blackbane leaf, but she was stretched to her very limits when she did that. Now, she’s interacting with Kaladin in a very familiar way, poking him and teasing him.
Meanwhile, Shallan is having her own downtime in Shadesmar, reflecting on what occurred in Lasting Integrity during the climax of Rhythm of War. Her relationship with Testament (and with Pattern, for that matter) is very different from that of Kaladin and Syl, but it gives us a look at a different angle of the Nahel bond.
“Can I heal her?” Shallan asked. “Maybe if I… if I bond her again?”
Shallan has her guilt to work through, of course, but Pattern’s response is telling. He thinks Shallan is still bonded to Testament, despite making her a deadeye spren. This offers a whole bushel of complications to unpack, not least of which is the way Shallan has been using her Shardblade(s) throughout the books. When she killed Tyn in Words of Radiance? That was Testament. There’s some Connection still there, but the extent of it remains to be seen. Shallan has the opportunity to be a truly unique entity among the Knights Radiant, given her multiple bonds to the same kind of spren.
And that’s not all that we have to grapple with when it comes to deadeyes.
The deadeyes—all of them except Testament—had been bonded to ancient Radiants before the Recreance. Together they’d rejected their oaths, humans and spren alike. They’d thought it would cause a painful, but survivable split. Instead, something had gone terribly wrong.
We’re heading into true theory territory, now. The mystery of the Recreance, and why things happened the way they did, remains stark against the backdrop of the war against Odium. Ba-Ado-Mishram is potentially at the heart of all this, as she was the driving force behind the False Desolation. After she was bound by the Bondsmith Melishi and the Knights Radiant, there was a huge ripple effect across Roshar—the singers with whom she had Connected were reduced to the mindless slaveform, the Sibling in Urithiru felt the effects, and if a popular fan theory is correct, it also damaged the essential nature of bonds on Roshar.
Oh, and speaking of theories? Let’s talk about voices.
“A storm is coming, Kaladin, the wind whispered. The worst storm… I’m sorry…”
Kaladin gets a new, mystical entity to talk to! Well, maybe not talk to, but a new voice to hear. He feels that this is the wind itself, something separate from the windspren or the Stormfather or anything he’s encountered before.
And it’s both cryptic and foreboding. It makes for a solid counterpoint for the tension of the story, reminding us of the looming deadline and the contest of champions, despite Kaladin’s relatively relaxing time with his family. This voice could be, well, anything. Is it a fragment of Honor, like the Stormfather? Is it one of the Unmade, making a new play at one of the Radiants’ foremost members? Something else entirely? We’ll have to read and find out…
With the scaled-back tone of these chapters versus the constant revelations in the prologue, we don’t get much in the way of greater Cosmere connections or worldhoppers peeking out from behind the curtain. But this is The Stormlight Archive, and we can be sure there’s more where that’s concerned. In the meantime, I’ll have an updated look at all the worldhoppers we’ve seen on (and around) Roshar to share on Thursday!
possibly hot take—but I don’t really think that’s the Stormfather Gavilar is talking to…
An interesting theory that a lot of others are echoing, pretty much everywhere. Riftyn takes it one step further, putting into succinct words what a few people have theorized:
I’m thinking maybe dear ol’ Tanavast might not be as gone as Honor is. And the Stormfather might have inherited a bit more than just some power when Honor was splintered.
In a similar vein, Shannon (and quite a few folks over on Reddit) are using the moniker “Stormfaker,” which amused the heck out of me.
There are a lot of theories regarding the shift in font when the Stormfather is speaking, but this one by Hansolo312 on Reddit was particularly good:
The change between Italicized words and Bolded words when the “stormfather” is speaking indicates to me that the earlier theories were missing that key information. Ishar is the one speaking most of the time but the Stormfather really is present, Ishar is speaking through the Stormfather the way Dalinar speaks through him in RoW
Paige: In the Reactor discussion comments, we have the following theory in relation to the Stormfather possibly being someone else. Steve-son-son-Charles says:
If you go back and look at the actual text, you will see the Stormfather uses 2 different fonts. At first I thought this was a formatting issue, but then someone else pointed it out as well.
I wonder if we have both the Stormfather and the Fake!Stromfather communicating with Gavilar at the same time, but he is in such a manic state, he cannot tell/recognize the difference and thinks it is only 1 entity.
So I am slowly leaning more towards the Fake!Stormfather theory, but with a caveat!
And Floricienta has this to say about the theory:
I think It is indeed the Stormfather, we [see] later in the prologue [he] seemed concerned about the way that he approached Gavilar. My theory is that the Stormfather forced the bond between them like the spren can bond humans one way sided even before they swear the first ideal, like happened to Kaladin or Rlain. And like we see now with Dalinar, the bond made the Stormfather change and adopt Gavilar’s mannerisms and humanity, leading him to be able to tell a lie.
While I like what I came up with, I still can not explain how the Stormfather felt a Herald dying if it was actually him.
Drew: Over on Reddit, theories are flying fast. The “Stormfaker,” as many fans have taken to calling the entity in the prologue, has been theorized to be several different people. u/sistertotherain9 says on r/StormlightArchive that they think it’s Ishar, because he’s “shifty,” but also points out that Cultivation herself could be involved, thanks to Vasher’s work with Gavilar. There’s that Nightblood connection, after all…
Lyn: Ways points out that:
…Seons are apparently capable of FTL communication.
GREAT catch.
Over on Reddit, I particularly loved this comment by unknown817206:
If I take any one thing away from this chapter is that Gavilar is out of depth and doesn’t know anything about what he’s talking about
Thanks for the chuckle, I’m 100% with you.
Paige: And regarding the mention of Vasher in the Prologue, AndrewHB had this to say in the Reactor read-along:
Interesting that Gavilar knows Vasher/Zahel. At this time, he was using his Zahel identity. He would have already have trained Adolin. I am guessing that Gavilar somehow found out that Vasher was not from Roshar and he tired to blackmail Vasher into working for him. I have not read Warbreaker. But from what I have seen of Vasjer/Zahel in SA, Vasher does not seem to be the type to agree to be blackmailed. He would just move to somewhere else.
To which HA2 responded:
Theory: he was searching for a way to destroy Nightblood
What do you think, Sanderfans? Is that why Vasher agreed to research anti-Voidlight?
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 3 and 4!
Lyn: (Small side note: if any of you will be attending WorldCon in Scotland this weekend, please hunt me down and say hi! I’ll be posting what panels I’m on and what I’m wearing each day on my Facebook page, so give me a follow to better find me. I LOVE chatting Cosmere!) [end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Dedication
For Adam Horne
Who is a champion of books, and deserves his own Shardblade.
Preface
Welcome to Wind and Truth, Book Five of the Stormlight Archive. This is the midpoint in the series, and the ending of the first major arc. As such, I have wrestled with this book more than most, giving it a great portion of my thoughts, passion, and effort over the last four years. This is, to date, the longest book I’ve ever written—and this is among the longest amounts of time I’ve ever spent on a book. (Probably the longest, if you don’t count projects I set down and came back to years later.) I hope you’ll find the result worth the effort!
Please sit back and enjoy the show. A highstorm is brewing.
Prologue: To Live
Seven and a half years ago
Gavilar Kholin was on the verge of immortality.
He merely had to find the right Words.
He walked a circle around the nine Honorblades, driven point-first into the stone ground. The air stank of burned flesh; he’d attended enough funeral pyres to know that scent intimately, though these bodies hadn’t been burned after the fighting but during it.
“They call it Aharietiam,” he said, trailing around the Blades, letting his hand linger on each one. When he became a Herald, would his Blade become like these, imbued with power and lore? “The end of the world. Was it a lie?”
Many who name it such believed what they said, the Stormfather replied.
“And the owners of these?” he said, gesturing to the Blades. “What did the Heralds believe?”
If they had been entirely truthful, the Stormfather said, then I would not be seeking a new champion.
Gavilar nodded. “I swear to serve Honor and Roshar as its Herald. Better than these did.”
These words are not accepted, the Stormfather said. You will never find them at random, Gavilar.
He would try nonetheless. In becoming the most powerful man in the world, Gavilar had often accomplished what others thought impossible. He rounded the ring of Blades again, alone with them in the shadow of monolithic stones. After dozens of visits to this vision, he could name each and every Blade by its associated Herald. The Stormfather, however, continued to be reticent to share information.
No matter. He would have his prize. He ripped Jezrien’s long, curved Blade from the stone and swung it, cutting the air. “Nohadon met and grew to know the Heralds.”
Yes, the Stormfather admitted.
“They are in there, aren’t they?” he said. “The correct Words are somewhere in The Way of Kings?”
Yes.
Gavilar had the entire book memorized—he’d taught himself to read years ago so he could search for secrets without revealing them to the women in his life. He tossed the Herald’s Blade aside, letting it clang against the stone—which made the Stormfather hiss.
Gavilar mentally chided himself. This was just a vision, and these fake Blades were nothing to him, but he needed the Stormfather to think him pious and worthy at least for now. He took up Chana’s Blade. He was fond of this one, as its ornamentation bifurcated the blade with a slit down the center. That long gap would be highly impractical for a normal sword. Here it was a symbol that this Blade was something incredible.
“Chanaranach was a soldier,” he said, “and this is a soldier’s Blade. Solid and straight, but with that little impossibility missing from the center.” He held the Blade in front of him, examining its edge. “I feel I know them each so well. They are my colleagues, yet I could not pick them out of a crowd.”
Your colleagues? Do not get ahead of yourself, Gavilar. Find the Words.
Those storming Words. The most important ones Gavilar would ever say. With them, he would become the Stormfather’s champion—and, he had deduced, something more. Gavilar suspected he would be accepted into the Oathpact and ascend beyond mortality. He had not asked which Herald he would replace; it felt crass, and he did not want to appear crass before the Stormfather. He suspected, though, that he would replace Talenelat, the one who had not left his Blade.
Gavilar stabbed the sword back into the stone. “Let us return.”
The vision ended immediately, and he was in the palace’s second-floor study. Bookshelves, a quiet desk for reading, tapestries and carpets to dampen voices. Gavilar wore finery for the upcoming feast: regal robes more archaic than fashionable. Like his beard, the clothing stood out among the Alethi lighteyes. He wanted them to think of him as something ancient, beyond their petty games.
This room was technically Navani’s, but it was his palace. People rarely looked for him here, and he needed a reprieve from little people with little problems. As he had time before his meetings, Gavilar selected a small book that listed the latest surveys of the region around the Shattered Plains. He was increasingly certain that place held an ancient unlocked Oathgate. Through it, Gavilar could find the mythical Urithiru, and there, ancient records.
He would find the right Words. He was close. So tantalizingly close to what all men secretly desired, but only ten had ever achieved. Eternal life, and a legacy that spanned millennia—because you could live to shape it.
It is not so grand as you think, the spren said. Which gave Gavilar pause. The Stormfather couldn’t read his mind, could it? No. No, he’d tested that. It didn’t know his deepest thoughts, his deepest plans. For if it did know his heart, it wouldn’t be working with him.
“What isn’t?” Gavilar asked, slipping the book back.
Immortality, the Stormfather said. It wears on men and women, weathering souls and minds. The Heralds are insane—afflicted with unnatural ailments unique to their ancient natures.
“How long did it take?” Gavilar asked. “For the symptoms to appear?”
Difficult to say. A thousand years, perhaps two.
“Then I will have that long to find a solution,” Gavilar said. “A much more reasonable timeline than the mere century—with luck—afforded a mortal. Wouldn’t you say?”
I have not promised you this boon. You guess it is what I offer, but I seek only a champion. Still, tell me, would you accept the cost of becoming a Herald? Everyone you know would be dust by the time you returned.
And here, the lie. “A king’s duty is to his people,” he said. “By becoming a Herald, I can safeguard Alethkar in a way that no previous monarch ever has. I can endure personal pain to accomplish this. If I should die,” Gavilar added, quoting The Way of Kings, “then I would do so having lived my life right. It is not the destination that matters, but how one arrives there.”
These words are not accepted, the spren said. Guessing will not bring you to the Words, Gavilar.
Yes, well, the Words were in that volume somewhere. Sheltered among the self-righteous moralizing like a whitespine in the brambles. Gavilar Kholin was not a man accustomed to losing. People got what they expected. And he expected not just victory, but divinity.
The guard knocked softly. Was it time already? Gavilar called for Tearim to come in, and he did. The guard was wearing Gavilar’s own Plate tonight.
“Sire,” Tearim said, “your brother is here.”
“What? Not Restares? How did Dalinar find me?”
“Spotted us standing watch, I suspect, Your Majesty.”
Bother. “Let him in.”
The guard withdrew. A second later Dalinar burst in, graceful as a three-legged chull. He slammed the door and bellowed, “Gavilar! I want to go talk to the Parshendi.”
Gavilar took a long, deep breath. “Brother, this is a very delicate situation, and we don’t want to offend them.”
“I won’t offend them,” Dalinar grumbled. He wore his takama, the robe of the old-fashioned warrior’s garb open to show his powerful chest—with some grey hairs. He pushed past Gavilar and threw himself into the seat by the desk.
That poor chair.
“Why do you even care about them, Dalinar?” Gavilar said, right hand to his forehead.
“Why do you?” Dalinar demanded. “This treaty, this sudden interest in their lands. What are you planning? Tell me.”
Dear, blunt Dalinar. As subtle as a jug of Horneater white. And equally smart.
“Tell me straight,” Dalinar continued. “Are you planning to conquer them?”
“Why would I be signing a treaty if that were my intent?”
“I don’t know,” Dalinar said. “I just… I don’t want to see anything happen to them. I like them.”
“They’re parshmen.”
“I like parshmen.”
“You’ve never noticed a parshman unless he was too slow to bring your drink.”
“There’s something about these ones,” Dalinar said. “I feel a… a kinship.”
“That’s foolish.” Gavilar walked to the desk and leaned down beside his brother. “Dalinar, what’s happening to you? Where is the Blackthorn?”
“Maybe he’s tired,” Dalinar said. “Or blinded. By the soot and ashes of the dead, constantly in his face…”
Again Dalinar whined about the Rift? What an enormous hassle. Restares would be here soon, and then… there was Thaidakar. So many knives to keep balanced perfectly on their tips, lest they slide and cut Gavilar. He couldn’t deal with Dalinar having a crisis of conscience right now.
“Brother,” Gavilar said, “what would Evi say if she saw you like this?”
It was a carefully sharpened spear, slipped expertly into Dalinar’s gut. The man’s fingers gripped the table, and he recoiled at her name.
“She would want you to stand as a warrior,” Gavilar said softly. “And protect Alethkar.”
“I…” Dalinar whispered. “She…”
Gavilar offered a hand and heaved his brother to his feet, then led him to the door. “Stand up straight.”
Dalinar nodded, hand on the doorknob.
“Oh,” Gavilar said. “And Brother? Follow the Codes tonight. There is something strange upon the winds.”
The Codes said not to drink when battle might be imminent. Just a nudge to remind Dalinar that it was a feast, and that there was plenty of wine on hand. Though Dalinar still thought no one knew he’d killed Evi, Gavilar had found the truth, which let him use these subtle manipulations.
Dalinar was out the door a moment later, his lumbering, pliable brain likely focused on two things. First, what he’d done to Evi. Second, how to find something strong enough to make him forget about the first.
When Dalinar was off down the hallway, Gavilar waved Tearim close. The guard was one of the Sons of Honor, a group that was yet another knife Gavilar kept balanced, for they could never know he had outgrown their plans.
“Follow my brother,” Gavilar said. “Subtly ensure that he gets something to drink; maybe lead him to my wife’s secret stores.”
“You had me do that a few months ago, sire,” Tearim whispered back. “There’s not much left, I’m afraid. He likes to share with his soldiers.”
“Well, find him something,” Gavilar replied. “I can let Restares and the others in when they arrive. Go.”
The soldier bowed and followed Dalinar, Shardplate thumping. Gavilar shut the door firmly. When the Stormfather’s voice pushed into his mind, he was not surprised.
He has potential you do not see, that one.
“Dalinar? Of course he does. If I can keep him pointed the right direction, he will burn down entire nations.” Gavilar simply had to ply him with alcohol the rest of the time, so that he didn’t burn down this nation.
He could be more than you think.
“Dalinar is a big, dumb, blunt instrument you apply to problems until they break,” Gavilar said, then shivered, remembering seeing his brother approach across a battlefield. Soaked in blood. Eyes appearing to glow red within his helm, hungry for the life Gavilar lived…
That ghost haunted him. Fortunately, both Dalinar’s pain and his addiction made him easy enough to control.
Gavilar was soon interrupted by another knock. He answered the door and found nothing outside, until the Stormfather hissed a warning in his mind and he felt a sudden chill.
When he turned around, old Thaidakar was there. The Lord of Scars himself, a figure in an enveloping hooded cloak, tattered at the bottom. Storms.
“I was made promises,” Thaidakar said, hood shadowing his face. “I’ve given you information, Gavilar, of the most valuable nature. In payment I requested a single man. When will you deliver Restares to me?”
“Soon,” Gavilar said. “I am gaining his confidence first.”
“It seems to me,” Thaidakar said, “that you’re less interested in our bargain, and more interested in your own motives. It seems to me that I directed you toward something valuable you’ve decided to keep. It seems to me that you play games.”
“It seems to me,” Gavilar said, stepping closer to the cloaked figure, “that you’re not in a position to make demands. You need me. So why don’t we just… keep playing.”
Thaidakar remained still for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he reached up with gloved hands and took down his hood. Gavilar froze—for despite their several interactions, he’d never before seen the man’s face.
Thaidakar was made entirely of softly glowing, white-blue light. He was younger than Gavilar had imagined—in his middle years, not the wizened elder he’d seemed. He had a large spike, also blue, through one eye. The point jutted out the back of his skull. Was he some kind of spren?
“Gavilar,” Thaidakar said, “take care. You’re not immortal yet, but you’ve begun to play with forces that rip mortals apart by their very axi.”
“Do you know what they are?” Gavilar demanded, hungry. “The most important Words I’ll ever speak?”
“No,” Thaidakar said. “But listen: none of this is what you think it is. Deliver Restares to my agents, and I will help you recover the ancient powers.”
“I’ve grown beyond that,” Gavilar said.
“You can’t ‘grow beyond’ the tide, Gavilar,” Thaidakar replied. “You swim with it or get swept away. Our plans are already in motion. Though to be honest, I don’t know that we did much. That tide was coming regardless.”
Gavilar grunted. “Well, I intend to—”
He was cut off as Thaidakar transformed. His face melted into a simple floating sphere with some kind of arcane rune at the center. The cloak, body, and gloves vanished into wisps of smoke that evaporated away.
Gavilar stared. That… that looked a lot like what he’d read of the powers of Lightweavers. Knights Radiant. Was Thaidakar—?
“I know you’re meeting Restares today,” the sphere said, vibrating—it had no mouth. “Prepare him, then deliver him to my agents for questioning. Or else. That is my ultimatum, Gavilar. You would not like to be my enemy.”
The sphere of light shrank and turned nearly transparent as it moved to the door, then bobbed down and vanished through the crack underneath.
“What was that?” Gavilar demanded of the Stormfather, unnerved.
Something dangerous, the spren replied in his mind.
“Radiant?”
No. Similar, but no.
Gavilar found himself trembling. Which was stupid. He was a storming king, soon to be a demigod. He had a destiny; he would not be unsettled by cheap tricks and vague threats. Still, he rested his hand against the desk and breathed deeply, his fingers disturbing scattered notes and diagrams from his wife’s latest mechanical obsession. Not for the first time he wondered if Navani could crack this problem. He missed the way they’d once schemed. How long had it been since they’d all laughed together? He, Ialai, Navani, and Torol?
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the kind of secret you shared. Ialai or Sadeas would seize the prize from him if they could—and Gavilar wouldn’t blame them. Navani though… would she try to take immortality for herself? Would she even see its value? She was so clever, so crafty in some ways. Yet when he spoke of his goals for a greater legacy, she got lost in the details. Refusing to think of the mountain because she worried about the placement of the foothills.
He regretted the distance between them. That coldness growing over—well, grown over—their relationship. Thinking of her sent a stab of pain into his heart. He should…
Everyone you know will be dust by the time you return…
Perhaps this way was best.
He had plans to mitigate the length of his absence from this world, but they might take several tries to perfect. So… fewer attachments seemed better. To allow for a cleaner cut. Like one made with a Shardblade.
He bent his mind to his plans, and was well prepared by the time Restares arrived. The balding man didn’t knock. He peeked in, nervously checking each corner before he slipped through the door. He was followed by a shadow: a tall, imperious Makabaki man with a birthmark on one cheek. Gavilar had instructed the servants to treat them as ambassadors, but he hadn’t yet had a chance to speak with this second man, whom he didn’t know.
The newcomer walked with a certain… firmness. Rigidity. He wasn’t a man who gave way. Not to wind, not to storm, and most certainly not to other people.
“Gavilar Kholin,” the man said, offering neither a hand nor a bow. They locked stares. Impressive. Gavilar had expected… well, someone more like Restares.
“Have a drink,” Gavilar said, gesturing toward the bar.
“No,” the man said. Without a thank-you or compliment. Interesting. Intriguing.
Restares scuttled over like a child offered sweets. Even now—after joining this newest incarnation of the Sons of Honor—Gavilar found Restares… odd. The short, balding man sniffed at each of the wines. He had never trusted a drink in Gavilar’s presence, but always tested them anyway. As if he wanted to find poison, to prove his paranoia was justified.
“Sorry,” Restares said, wringing his hands as he hovered over the drinks. “Sorry. Not… not thirsty today, Gavilar. Sorry.”
Gavilar was close to tossing him aside and seizing control of the Sons of Honor. Except some of the others, like Amaram, respected him. Plus… why was Thaidakar so interested in Restares? Surely he couldn’t actually be someone important. Perhaps his tall friend was the true power. Could Gavilar have been kept in the dark for two years about something that vital?
“I’m glad you were willing to meet,” Restares said. “Yes, um. Because, um. So… Announcement. I have an announcement.”
Gavilar frowned. “What is this?”
“I hear,” Restares said, “that you’re looking to, um, restore the Voidbringers?”
“You founded the Sons of Honor, Restares,” Gavilar said, “to recover the ancient oaths and restore the Knights Radiant. Well, they vanished when the Voidbringers did. So if we bring back the Voidbringers, the powers should return.”
More importantly, he thought, the Heralds will return from the land of the dead to lead us again.
Letting me usurp the position of one of them.
“No, no, no,” Restares said, uncharacteristically firm. “I wanted the honor of men to return! I wanted us to explore what made those Radiants so grand. Before things went wrong.” He ran his hand through his thinning hair. “Before… I made them… go wrong…”
Restares wouldn’t meet Gavilar’s eyes. “We… we should stop trying to restore the powers,” Restares said, his voice wilting, and glanced to his stern friend—as if for support. “We can’t… afford another Return…”
“Restares,” Gavilar said, advancing on the little man. “What is wrong with you? You’re talking about betraying everything we believe?” Or at least pretend to believe. Gavilar subtly placed himself so he loomed over Restares. “Have you heard of a man named Thaidakar?”
Restares looked up, his eyes widening.
“He wants to find you,” Gavilar said. “I have protected you thus far. What is it he wants from you, Restares?”
“Secrets,” Restares whispered. “The man… can’t abide… anyone having secrets.”
“What secrets?” Gavilar said firmly, making Restares cringe. “I’ve put up with your lies long enough. What is going on? What does Thaidakar want?”
“I know where she is hidden,” Restares whispered. “Where her soul is. Ba-Ado-Mishram. Granter of Forms. The one who could rival Him. The one… we betrayed.”
Ba-Ado-Mishram? Why would Thaidakar care about an Unmade? It seemed such an oddly shaped piece of the puzzle. Gavilar opened his mouth to speak, but a hand squeezed his shoulder, fingers like a vise. Gavilar turned to see Restares’s Makabaki friend standing behind him.
“What have you done?” the man asked, his voice icy. “Gavilar Kholin. What actions have you taken to achieve this goal of yours, the one that my friend mistakenly set you upon?”
“You have no idea,” Gavilar said, meeting the stranger’s eyes until the man finally released his grip.
Gavilar took a pouch from his pocket, then casually spilled a selection of spheres and gemstones onto the table. “I’m close. Restares, you must not lose your nerve now!”
The stranger stared, his lips parting. He reached toward one of the spheres that glowed with a dark, almost inverted violet light. Impossible light; a color that should not exist. As soon as the stranger’s fingers drew close, he yanked them away, then turned wide eyes on Gavilar.
“You are a fool,” the man said. “A terrible fool charging toward the highstorm with a stick, thinking to fight it. What have you done? Where did you get Voidlight?”
Gavilar smiled. None of them knew of the secret scholar he kept in reserve. A master of all things scientific. A man who was neither Ghostblood nor Son of Honor.
A man from another world.
“It is set in motion,” Gavilar said, glancing at Restares. “And the project was a success.”
Restares perked up. “It… it was? Is that LFight…” He turned to his friend. “This could work, Nale! We could bring them back, then destroy them. It could work.”
Nale. Oh, storms. Gavilar knew—but tried to ignore—that Restares pretended to be a Herald to impress the others. The little man didn’t know Gavilar had become familiar with the Stormfather, who had told him the truth: that the Heralds had all long since died and gone to Braize.
So was this stranger pretending to be Nalan, Herald of Justice? He… had the right look. Many of the depictions were of an imperious Makabaki man. And that birthmark… it was strikingly similar to one on several of the older paintings.
But no. That was ridiculous. To believe that, one would have to believe that Restares—of all people—was a Herald.
The stranger tried to stare Gavilar down. Motionless, his expression cold. A monolith instead of a man. “This is far too dangerous.”
Gavilar continued to hold his gaze. The world would bend to his desires. It always had before.
“But you are,” the man eventually said, stepping back, “the king. Your will… is law… in this land.”
“Yes,” Gavilar said. “That is correct. Restares, I have more good news. We can move Voidlight from the storm to the Physical Realm. We can even carry it between here and Damnation, as you wanted.”
“That’s a way,” Restares said, looking to Nale. “A way… maybe to escape…”
Nale waved to the spheres. “Being able to bring them back and forth from Braize doesn’t mean anything. It’s too close to be a relevant distance.”
“It was impossible only a few short years ago,” Gavilar said. “This is proof. The Connection is not severed, and the box allows for travel. Not yet as far as you’d like, but we must start the journey somewhere.”
He wasn’t certain why Restares was so eager to move Light around in Shadesmar. Thaidakar wanted this information as well. A way to transport Stormlight, and this new Voidlight, long distances. As he was contemplating that, Gavilar saw something. The door was cracked. An eye was peeking through.
Damnation. It was Navani. How much had she heard?
“Husband,” she said, immediately pushing into the room. “There are guests missing you at the gathering. You seem to have lost track of time.”
He smothered his anger at her spying, turning to Restares and his friend. “Gentlemen, I will need to excuse myself.”
Restares again ran his hand through his wispy hair. “I want to know more of the project, Gavilar. Plus, you need to know that another of us is here tonight. I spotted her handiwork earlier.”
Another one? Another Son of Honor.
No, he meant another Herald. Restares was growing more delusional.
“I have a meeting shortly with Meridas and the others,” Gavilar said, calmly soothing Restares. “They should have more information for me. We can speak again after that.”
“No,” the Makabaki man growled. “I doubt we shall.”
“There’s more here, Nale!” Restares said, though he followed as Gavilar ushered the two of them from the room. “This is important! I want out. This is the only way…”
Gavilar shut the door. Then turned to his wife. Damnation, she should know better than to interrupt him. She…
Storms. The dress was beautiful, her face more so, even when angry. Staring at him with brilliant eyes, a fiery halo almost seeming to spread around her.
Once more, he considered.
Once more he rejected the idea.
If he was going to be a god, best to sever attachments. The sun could love the stars. But never as an equal.
* * *
Some time later, after he’d seen to Navani, Gavilar slipped away again. To his chambers this time, where he could confront what he’d learned.
“Tell me,” he said, walking across the springy carpet to regard the tabletop map of Roshar. “Why is Thaidakar so interested in Ba-Ado-Mishram?”
The Stormfather formed a rippling beside Gavilar, vaguely in the shape of a person, but indistinct. Like the wavering in the air made by great heat on the stones.
She created your parshmen by accident, he said. Long ago, just before the Recreance, Mishram tried to rise up and replace Odium, giving the Voidbringers powers.
“Curious,” Gavilar said. “And then?”
And then… she fell. She was too small a being to uphold an entire people. It all came crashing down, and so some brave Radiants trapped Mishram in a gemstone to prevent her from destroying all of Roshar. A side effect created the parshmen.
Simple parshmen. They were Voidbringers. A delicious secret he’d pried out of the Stormfather some weeks ago. Gavilar strolled to the bookcase, where one of the new heating fabrials had been delivered to him by the scholar Rushur Kris. He took it from its cloth casing, weighing it.
He had found a way to ferry Voidspren through Shadesmar to this world using gemstones and aluminum boxes. Who would have thought Navani’s pet area of study would be so useful? And if that conniving Axindweth eluded his grasp, he’d have to do the next part without her. He had his scholar, though in truth Gavilar was baffled by the Light he was creating… Light that could somehow kill the Voidbringers? How had Vasher made—
He thought he heard a faint crackling sound from the Stormfather. Lightning? How cute.
“You’ve never challenged what I’m doing,” Gavilar said. “I would have thought that returning the Voidbringers would be opposed to your very nature.”
Opposition is sometimes needed, the Stormfather said. You will need someone to fight, should you become champion.
“Give it to me,” Gavilar said. “Now. Make me a Herald. I need it.”
The Stormfather turned a shimmering head in his direction. That was almost them.
“What, those?” Gavilar said. “A demand?”
So close. And so far.
Gavilar smiled, hefting the fabrial and thinking of the flamespren trapped inside. The Stormfather seemed increasingly suspicious, hostile. If things did go poorly… could he trap the Stormfather himself in one of these?
Soon Amaram arrived with a small collection of people: two men, two women. One man was Amaram’s lieutenant. The other three would be new important Sons of Honor recruits, invited to the feast and given exclusive time with the king after. It was an annoyance, but a worthy one. Gavilar identified the two women from the notes, but not the older man in robes. Who was he? A stormwarden? Amaram liked to keep them around, to teach him their script, which preserved some semblance of Vorin devotion. That was important to him.
Gavilar met each guest in turn, and as he reached the older man, something clicked. This was Taravangian, the king of Kharbranth. Famously a man of little consequence or aptitude. Gavilar glanced at Amaram. Surely they weren’t going to invite him into their confidence—they should find the power who secretly ruled Kharbranth. Likely to be one of two women, per Gavilar’s spy reports.
Amaram nodded. So, Gavilar gave his speech about ancient oaths and Radiants—of glories past and futures bright. It was a good speech, but beginning to grate on him. Once his words had inspired troops; now he spent his entire life in meetings. After finishing, he let everyone get something to drink.
“Meridas,” Gavilar whispered, pulling Amaram aside. “These meetings are growing onerous. My experiment was a success. I have the weapon.”
Amaram started, then spoke softly. “You mean…”
“Yes, once we bring back the Voidbringers, we will have a new way to fight them.”
“Or a new way to control them,” Amaram whispered.
Well, that was new. Gavilar considered his friend, and the ambition those words implied. Good for you, Amaram.
“We must restore the Desolations,” Gavilar said. “Whatever the cost. It’s the only way.”
“I agree,” Amaram said. “Now more than ever.” He hesitated. “My efforts with your daughter did not go well earlier. I thought we had an understanding.”
“You simply need more time, my friend. To win her over.”
Amaram hungered for the throne like Gavilar hungered for immortality. And perhaps Gavilar would reward Amaram with it. Elhokar certainly did not deserve to be king. He was exactly the opposite of the legacy Gavilar wanted.
He sent Amaram to talk to the others. Once they had enjoyed their drinks, Gavilar would give another short speech. Then he could be on to… He frowned, noticing that one of the new recruits wasn’t conversing with the others. The elderly man, Taravangian, was staring at the map of Roshar. The others laughed at something Amaram said. Taravangian didn’t even look toward the sound.
Gavilar strode over, but before he could speak, Taravangian whispered, “Do you ever wonder about the lives we’re giving them? The people we rule?”
Gavilar was unaccustomed to people—let alone strangers—addressing him with such familiarity. But then, this Taravangian saw himself as a king, and perhaps as Gavilar’s equal. Laughable, when Taravangian ruled only one small city.
“I worry less about their lives now,” Gavilar said, “and more about what is to come.”
Taravangian nodded, appearing thoughtful. “That was an inspiring speech. Do you actually believe it?”
“Would I say it if I didn’t?”
“Of course you would; a king will say whatever needs to be said. Wouldn’t it be grand if that were always what he believed?” He looked to Gavilar, smiling. “Do you truly believe the Radiants can return?”
“Yes,” Gavilar said. “I do.”
“And you are not a fool,” Taravangian said, musing. “So you must have good reasons.”
Gavilar found himself revising his earlier opinion. A little king was still a king. Perhaps, among all of the dignitaries in the city tonight, here was one who might… in the smallest way… understand the demands placed on the man pressed between crown and throne.
“A danger is coming,” Gavilar said softly, shocked at his own sincerity. “To this land. This world. An ancient danger.”
Taravangian narrowed his eyes.
“It’s not just a Desolation we must fear,” Gavilar said. “They come. The Everstorm. The Night of Sorrows.”
Taravangian, remarkably, grew pale.
He believed. Gavilar usually felt foolish when he tried to explain the true dangers that the Stormfather had shown him—the contest of champions for the fate of Roshar. He worried people would think him mad. Yet this man… believed him?
“Where,” Taravangian asked, “did you hear those words?”
“I don’t know that you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Will you believe me?” Taravangian asked. “Ten years ago, my mother died of her tumors. Frail, lying on her bed, with too many perfumes struggling to smother the stench of death. She gazed at me in her last moments…” He met Gavilar’s eyes. “And she whispered: ‘I stand before him, above the world itself, and he speaks the truth. The Desolation is near… The Everstorm. The Night of Sorrows.’ Then she was gone.”
“I’ve… heard of this,” Gavilar admitted. “The prophetic words of the dying…”
“Where did you hear those words?” Taravangian asked, practically begging. “Please.”
“I see visions,” Gavilar said, frank. “Given me by the Almighty. So that we may prepare.” He looked toward the map. “Heralds send that I may become the person I need to be to stop what is coming…”
Let the Stormfather see sincerity in Gavilar. Storms… suddenly Gavilar felt it. Standing there with this little king, he felt it. Never before—in all of this—had Gavilar ever suspected he might be inadequate to the task.
Perhaps, he thought, I should encourage Dalinar to resume his training. Remind him that he is a soldier. Gavilar had the distinct impression that before too long, he would need the Blackthorn again.
Someone is approaching your door outside, the Stormfather warned. One of the listeners. Eshonai. There is something about this one…
One of the Parshendi? Gavilar shook himself. He dismissed Taravangian, Amaram, and the others—happy to be rid of that strange old man and his questioning eyes. The fellow was supposed to be unremarkable. Why did he unnerve Gavilar?
Eshonai entered as Amaram passed along his invitation. The conversation with the parshwoman went smoothly, with him manipulating her—and therefore her people. To prepare them for the role they would play.
* * *
After Gavilar grew weary at the feast once the treaty was signed, he retired to his rooms. He sank into a deep plush chair by his balcony, releasing a long sigh. Early in his career as a warlord, he’d never allowed himself the luxury of softness. He had mistakenly assumed that liking something soft would make him soft.
A common failing among men who wished to appear strong. It was not weakness to relax. By being so afraid of it, they gave simple things power over them.
The air shimmered in front of him.
“A full day,” Gavilar said.
Yes.
“The first of many such,” Gavilar continued. “I will be mounting an expedition back to the Shattered Plains soon. We can leverage my new treaty to obtain guides, have them lead us inward to the center. Toward Urithiru.”
The Stormfather did not reply. Gavilar wasn’t certain the spren could be said to have human mannerisms. Today though… that turned-away posture, hinted at in the warping of the air… that silence…
“Do you regret choosing me?” Gavilar asked.
I regret the way I have treated you, the Stormfather said. I should not have been so accommodating. It has made you lazy.
“This is lazy?” Gavilar said, forcing amusement into his voice to hide his annoyance.
You do not reverence the position you seek, the Stormfather said. I feel… you are not the champion I need. Maybe… I’ve been wrong all this time.
“You said that you were charged with this task of finding a champion,” Gavilar said. “By Honor.”
That is true. I do not speak in human ways. But still, if you become a Herald, you will be tortured between Returns. Why is it this doesn’t bother you?
Gavilar shrugged. “I will just give in.”
What?
“Give in,” Gavilar said, heaving himself out of his seat. “Why stay to be tortured and potentially lose my mind? I will give up each time and return immediately.”
The Heralds stay in Damnation to seal the Voidbringers away. To prevent them from overrunning the world. They—
“The Heralds are the ten fools for that,” Gavilar explained, pouring a drink from the carafe near his balcony. “If I cannot die, I will be the greatest king this world has ever known. Why lock away my knowledge and leadership?”
To stop the war.
“Why would I care to stop a war?” Gavilar asked, genuinely amused. “War is the path to glory, to training our soldiers to recover the Tranquiline Halls. My troops should be experienced, don’t you think?” He turned back toward the shimmer, taking a sip of orange wine. “I don’t fear these Voidbringers. Let them stay and fight. If they are reborn, then we will never run out of enemies to kill.”
The Stormfather did not respond. And again Gavilar tried to read into the thing’s posture. Was the Stormfather proud of him? Gavilar considered this an elegant solution; he was puzzled why the Heralds had never thought of it. Perhaps they were cowards.
Ah, Gavilar, the Stormfather said. I see my miscalculation. Your entire religious upbringing… created from the lies of Aharietiam and Honor’s own failings… it pointed you toward this conclusion.
Damnation. The Stormfather wasn’t pleased. It suddenly felt terribly unfair. Here he was drinking this awful excuse for wine to follow the ridiculous Codes—he gave every possible outward show of piety—yet it wasn’t enough?
“What should I do to serve?” Gavilar said.
You don’t understand, the Stormfather said. Those aren’t the Words, Gavilar.
“Then what are the storming Words!” he said, slamming the cup down on the table—shattering it, splashing wine across the wall. “You want me to save this planet? Then help me! Tell me what I’m saying wrong!”
It’s not about what you are saying.
“But—”
Suddenly the Stormfather wavered. Lightning pulsed through his shimmering form, filling Gavilar’s room with an electric glow. Blue frosted the rugs, pure light reflecting in the glass balcony doors.
Then the Stormfather cried out. A sound like a peal of thunder, agonized.
A Herald… a Herald has died… No. I am not ready… The Oathpact… No! They mustn’t see. They mustn’t know…
“Died?” Gavilar said. “Died. You said they were already dead! You said they were in Damnation!”
The Stormfather rippled, then a face emerged in the shimmering. Two eyes, like holes in a storm, clouds spiraling around them and leading into the depths.
“You lied,” Gavilar said. “You lied?”
Oh, Gavilar. There is so much you do not know. So much you assume. And the two never do meet. Like paths to opposing cities.
Those eyes seemed to pull Gavilar forward, to overwhelm him, to consume him. He… he saw storms, endless storms, and the world was so frail. A tiny speck of blue against an infinite canvas of black.
The Stormfather could lie?
“Restares,” Gavilar whispered. “Is he… actually a Herald?”
Yes.
Gavilar felt cold, as if he were standing in the highstorm, ice seeping in through his skin. Seeking his heart. Those eyes…
“What are you?” Gavilar whispered, hoarse.
The biggest fool of them all, the Stormfather said. Goodbye, Gavilar. I have seen a glimpse of what is coming. I will not prevent it.
“What?” Gavilar demanded. “What is coming?”
Your legacy.
The door slammed open. Sadeas, his face red from exertion. “Assassin,” he said, waving Tearim—in Plate—to tromp in. “Coming this way, killing guards. We need you to put on your armor. Tearim, get it off. We must protect the king.”
Gavilar looked at him, stunned.
Then one word cut through.
Assassin.
I’ve been betrayed, he thought, and found that he was not surprised. One of them had been bound to come for him.
But which one?
“Gavilar!” Sadeas shouted. “We need you in armor! Assassin on the way.”
“Tearim can fight him, Torol,” Gavilar said. “What is one assassin?”
“This one has killed dozens already,” Sadeas said. “I think we should have you in Plate just in case. You could wear mine, but my armorers are still bringing it.”
“You brought your armor to the feast?”
“Of course I did,” Sadeas said. “I don’t trust those Parshendi. You’d do well to emulate me. Trusting too much could get you killed someday.”
Screams sounded in the distance. Tearim, loyal as always, began removing the Plate for Gavilar to don.
“Too slow,” Sadeas said. “We need to buy time. Give me your robe.”
Gavilar hesitated, then met his friend’s eyes. “You’d do that?”
“I worked too hard to put you on that throne, Gavilar,” Sadeas said, grim. “I’m not going to let that go to waste.”
“Thank you,” Gavilar said.
Sadeas shrugged, pulling on the robe as Tearim helped Gavilar suit up. Whoever this assassin was, he’d find himself outmatched by a Shardbearer.
Gavilar glanced toward where the Stormfather had been—but the shimmer was gone.
Spren couldn’t lie. They couldn’t. He’d learned that… from the Stormfather.
Blood of my fathers, Gavilar thought as the Plate locked onto his legs. What else did it lie to me about?
* * *
Gavilar fell.
And he knew, as he fell, that this was it. His ending.
A legacy interrupted. An assassin who moved with an otherworldly grace, stepping on wall and ceiling, commanding Light that bled from the very storms.
Gavilar hit the ground—surrounded by the wreckage of his balcony—and he saw white in a flash. His body didn’t hurt. That was an extremely bad sign.
Thaidakar, he thought as a figure rose before him, shadowed in the night air. Only Thaidakar could send an assassin who could do such things.
Gavilar coughed as the figure loomed over him. “I… expected you… to come.”
The assassin knelt before him, though Gavilar couldn’t see anything more than shadows. Then… the assassin—doing something Gavilar couldn’t make out—again glowed like a sphere.
“You can tell… Thaidakar,” Gavilar whispered, “that he’s too late…”
“I don’t know who that is,” the assassin said, the words barely intelligible. The man held his hand to the side. Summoning a Blade.
This was it. Behind the assassin a halo, a corona of shimmering light. The Stormfather.
I did not cause this, the Stormfather said in his head. I do not know whether that brings you peace in your last moments, Gavilar.
But…
“Then who…?” Gavilar forced out. “Restares? Sadeas? I never thought…”
“My masters are the Parshendi,” the assassin said.
Gavilar blinked, focusing on the man once more as his Blade formed. Storms… that was Jezrien’s Honorblade, wasn’t it? What was happening?
“The Parshendi? That makes no sense.”
This is my failure as much as yours, the Stormfather said. If I try again, I will do it differently. I thought… your family…
His family. In that moment, Gavilar saw his legacy crumbling. He was dying.
Storms. He was dying. What did anything matter? He couldn’t. He couldn’t…
He was supposed to be eternal…
I’ve invited the enemy back, he realized. The end is coming. And my family, my kingdom, will be destroyed, without a way to fight. Unless…
Hand quivering, he pulled a sphere out of his pocket. The weapon. They needed this. His son… No, his son could not handle such power… They needed a warrior. A true warrior. One that Gavilar had been doing his best to suppress, out of a fear he barely dared acknowledge, even as he drew his last ragged breaths.
Dalinar. Storms help them, it came down to Dalinar.
He held the sphere out toward the Stormfather, his vision fuzzing. Thinking… was… difficult.
“You must take this,” Gavilar whispered to the Stormfather. “They must not get it. Tell… tell my brother… he must find the most important words a man can say…”
No, the Stormfather said, though a hand took the sphere. Not him. I’m sorry, Gavilar. I made that mistake once. I will never trust your family again.
Gavilar gave a whine of pain, not from his body but from his soul. He had failed. He had brought them all to ruin. That, he realized with horror, would be his legacy.
In the end, Gavilar Kholin, heir to the Heralds, died. As all men, ultimately, must.
Welcome, Sanderfans and Cosmere Chickens, to the read-along discussion of the preview chapters of Wind and Truth! If you haven’t already read the Preface and Prologue, we highly recommend that you do so now. We’re changing things up a bit from our usual reread article format, and beta readers Paige Vest, Lyndsey Luther, and Drew McCaffrey will each have their own commentary section wherein we discuss the chapters each week.
Lyn: I would like to mention one little thing about that. You may think that since we’re beta readers and hence have read the whole book, we’re going to drop hints or spoilers for things further along. Fear not, good readers. We actually go to great lengths to not do that, and may even allude to some misleading theories or red herrings in order to avoid spoiling the story. So if you see us entertaining a “what if?” and think to yourself, “ah hah!” Well… you might want to think again. We’re sneaky like that.
We’ll have a new read-along article every Monday, publishing in tandem with the chapter(s) that are being released each week, so that you can read the new material and jump in here to check out our commentary and join the discussion!
Reminder: We’ll be discussing spoilers for the entire Cosmere up until now. If you haven’t read ALL of the published entries in the Cosmere, especially The Stormlight Archive (including novellas), you may want to wait to join us until you’re done.
Before we dive in, allow us to introduce ourselves if you don’t already know us!
Paige: Hey, Sanderfans! I’ve been a fan of Brandon since it was announced he’d be finishing Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time. I picked up Elantris and Mistborn: The Final Empire because those were his only books that had been released at that time. I loved his writing immediately and haven’t looked back! (Except to work on reread articles, of course.) Peter Ahlstrom very kindly invited me to the Sanderson beta reader team in 2015 and I participated in my first beta read, Edgedancer, in 2016. My day job is working for the New Mexico Department of Public Safety, namely for the State Police. I went back to school four years ago and am still working on my first BA (though I have 3 AAs and 2 Certificates!). I enjoy writing flash fiction, short stories, and novels, though I don’t have anything beyond what I’ve self-pubbed, at this time. I do have two full novels and a ton of flash fiction available at my Patreon, and I’m pretty cheap! Erm… well, you know what I mean. You can also find several anthologies with some of my flashes and shorts at Amazon.
Lyndsey: Greetings, lovely Cosmere Chickens! I’ve been a beta reader for Brandon since Words of Radiance, and even have the incredible honor of having a character named after me (Lyn of Bridge 4). In the real world, I’m a fantasy novelist myself (you can find my debut novel here in print, ebook, or audio format) as well as a professional actress, seamstress, woodworker, and a ton of other weird and creative things that together almost earn me enough to provide for my family here in rural Connecticut.
Drew: Hello there! Like Paige and Lyn, I’m a beta reader for Brandon, though not quite with the same tenure. I started in 2018, and my first Cosmere beta read was Rhythm of War. (Some of you might actually know me better from the Wheel of Time fandom, where I’ve been active in various circles for decades.) I’m a fantasy writer, with short stories available on Kindle, and reviewer with thoughts on the Inking Out Loud podcast.
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
In the Prologue of Wind and Truth, we see the night of Gavilar’s assassination from Gavilar’s own point of view. The scene takes place seven and a half years before the events of Wind and Truth. Gavilar has a series of meetings: first with Thaidakar, then Restares and Nale; Navani pops in; then a recruiting meeting for the Sons of Honor, where he meets Taravangian; and finally, Eshonai, to seal his fate. He talks with the Stormfather quite a lot in between these meetings, but then Szeth shows up and, well, we know how that goes.
Each of the prologues in The Stormlight Archive has made me dislike Gavilar more and more, and this one is no different. He’s arrogant, with his thoughts of becoming a god, the Stormfather’s champion, a Herald, immortal. Being a Highprince wasn’t enough. Being the king isn’t enough. He’s just not satisfied and wants to be a god. One thing that I do enjoy, however, is how he repeatedly tries to speak the Words he’s looking for throughout the prologue and how the Stormfather repeatedly rejects him. Thanks for that, Brandon. ::chuckles::
We see Gavilar’s thoughts and how he deceives everyone, even the Stormfather, who chats with him throughout this entire prologue. He lets the Stormfather think that he wants to become his champion when he really just wants to start a Desolation so that he can take the place of a Herald, specifically Taln. ::laughs hysterically:: Taln… of all the Heralds to replace, he thinks he’ll replace Taln. Is that because Taln was just a common man prior to the Oathpact? Little does Gavilar know that Taln was the best of all the Heralds.
Gavilar wouldn’t allow himself to be tortured on Braize between Desolations, however. Oh, no, not our very-full-of-himself king of Alethkar. Gavilar would give in immediately, again and again, and come back to rule Roshar as an immortal. The Stormfather is appalled by this idea and says that it would mean eternal war, but Gavilar, it turns out, is A-okay with eternal war!
The Stormfather isn’t pleased with Gavilar and regrets choosing him, which frankly shows some smarts on the Stormfather’s part! Suddenly the Stormfather cries out in agony and says that a Herald has died and that he’s not ready. I know that many people have a theory on who this Herald is, so tell us what your thoughts are in the comments!
The Stormfather then goes from chatting in italics to ALL CAPS (I don’t know why this is, but it’s ominous). He bids farewell to Gavilar, telling him that he won’t stop what’s coming. Of course, what’s coming is the assassin in white and it’s interesting to think that the Stormfather might have been able to stop it, had he wanted to.
The part of this prologue that struck me the most, I think, is knowing that the Stormfather can lie. Despite this betrayal, as he is dying, Gavilar tries to give the Stormfather a Voidlight sphere to give to Dalinar (though Szeth believes Gavilar is talking to him, and he takes the sphere and writes that Dalinar must find the most important words a man can say). Of course, the Stormfather is like, there’s no way I am picking anyone from your family again, you bunch of nutters! Though, of course, he eventually changes his mind. I wonder why he chose Dalinar after all? What do you think, Sanderfans?
There are other conversations that Gavilar has that night, prior to Szeth’s arrival, which are also worthy of discussion. The prologue skims over Gavilar’s chats with Navani and Eshonai, which we’ve seen already but which also would have been interesting to revisit from Gavilar’s point of view. He’s his usual arrogant self during both of them. Though he does think about how beautiful Navani is, especially when she’s angry, he doesn’t let that interfere with his plans for grandeur. Then, with Eshonai, he sends her on her way with a Voidlight gemstone thinking he’s manipulated her and, by extension, all of the Parshendi, but when she goes straight to the Five, they decide to kill him ASAP. Certainly not his smartest move.
But I like his interaction with Thaidakar, “The Lord of Scars.” ::nudge:: He wants Gavilar to deliver Restares to him and we learn that it’s because Restares knows where Ba-Ado-Mishram has been secreted away in her gemstone prison. The Stormfather reveals that her capture essentially created the parshmen, but what would Thaidakar want with Mishram? What’s also cool about this interaction is that Thaidakar is talking to Gavilar through a seon. Of course, we saw a seon in Rhythm of War… Mraize gave one to Shallan so she could offer updates on her search for Restares/Kelek at Lasting Integrity. Might be the same saucy little seon. But what I find cool is that Thaidakar is likely not on Roshar and is communicating via seon from Scadrial. Seons are seriously awesome, y’all!
Aside from Thaidakar, Gavilar meets with a couple of Heralds, though he doesn’t believe them to be Heralds until the Stormfather confirms that Restares is a Herald. He doesn’t tell Gavilar which one, though. We know Restares is actually Kelek, and he’s with Nale, who he names in front of Gavilar. Kelek also tells Gavilar that another of them is in the palace, though he doesn’t name Shalash. We already knew that, of course. She’s out there destroying her likenesses, as Ash is wont to do.
Nale doesn’t seem to care for Gavilar but then, does Nale care for anyone? Of course, he’s all about the law and, as Gavilar is king of Alethkar, he’s essentially the law in Alethkar, so Nale doesn’t give him grief about wanting to bring back the Voidbringers. Though Kelek does say something I find redeeming for him: He says that he “wanted the honor of men to return” and that he wanted “to explore what made those Radiants so grand.” He then says that he personally made things go wrong. Hmm… Primarily, poor Kelek is just desperate to get off Roshar, and we know that he’s still trying to attain that goal years later when Shallan and Adolin find him in Lasting Integrity.
One very interesting revelation—a tidbit that made my eyebrows shoot up during the beta read last year—was that Vasher is working with Gavilar to make Voidlight. Gavilar gloats while thinking about how he has a “secret scholar”: “A master of all things scientific. A man who was neither Ghostblood nor Son of Honor. A man from another world.” This lowers Vasher in my estimation a bit, if I’m being honest. ::sniff::
Gavilar also meets with Amaram and several Sons of Honor recruits, one of whom is none other than Taravangian, who it seems was shopping around for a Secret Society before he created his own. I was surprised that Gavilar kind of opened up to Taravangian and told him about the Everstorm and the “Night of Sorrows.” And we discover why Taravangian started his death rattle collections in Kharbranth… because his mother spoke Gavilar’s words in a death rattle ten years prior to that night. One fun thing about this meeting is that Amaram says his efforts with Jasnah didn’t go well, and it made me laugh, thinking of the way she scathingly dressed him down in Oathbringer. ::giggles::
So… questions and speculation time. Probably more questions than speculation, knowing me!
What other lies might the Stormfather have told Gavilar? And has he also lied to Dalinar? What do you think he might have lied to Dalinar about, Sanderfans?
What does Kelsier want with Mishram? Maybe he thinks she can bestow power on him… that would be interesting. The Ghostbloods are a far-reaching society with their fingers in a lot of pies, so there could be any number of reasons why Kelsier wants Mishram, I suppose.
How exactly did Kelek make things go wrong? I don’t know if he did something personally to cause the Recreance or if he just thinks he did, but he definitely feels responsible.
What is the Night of Sorrows? I wonder if it refers to the contest of champions between Odium and Dalinar. It’s always spoken of along with the Everstorm and the True Desolation, but there’s no definitive answer. I honestly don’t know if we have a word of Brandon about it, I couldn’t find one. Does anybody know?
How did Vasher come to be creating Voidlight for Gavilar? He was obviously already Zahel, the expert warrior, training the princes in combat. Why would he tell Gavilar his real name and why/how is he making Voidlight?
What do you find interesting about this prologue, Sanderfans? Tell us in the comments and we can keep the discussion going!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Characters and Relationships
I have to admit, when I saw that the prologue was from Gavilar’s POV my first reaction was “ugh.” It makes sense from a story standpoint, of course. All of the previous ones were different perspectives on the same event and Gavilar is the main player in that event, so it does make sense that we’d finally see through his eyes for this, the final book in the first five-book arc. I have to imagine that the prologue chapters of the back half of the Stormlight Archive will center on a different event, and I’m deathly curious to see what that event winds up being. I doubt it will be anything we can guess at this point, unless maybe it’s something big that happens at the conclusion of this book.
Also interesting to note is that the previous POV characters (with the possible exception of Szeth) all had some sort of character arc in that specific book, so we could use the prologue to draw some conclusions about the starting points of their narratives. However… we know that Gavilar’s not going anywhere after this. His POV is being used more as a lens to show us the different Big Players in the Cosmere, and open up our minds to what’s really been going on behind the scenes. As such, I think it’s safe to say that we can expect this book to be incredibly lore-heavy.
Let’s delve a little into the different characters introduced in this chapter, and what their relationships/arcs may tell us…
Gavilar
Gavilar is SUCH an unlikable character. Not only does he mistreat his wife (as we’ve seen in the prologue of Rhythm of War) and his daughter (there’s some evidence in her POV sections of being imprisoned as a child, not to mention him trying to marry her off to that snake Amaram), he’s trying to mislead a magical being that shares his thoughts to some degree. So he’s opportunistic, manipulative, AND stupid.
His thoughts about his brother Dalinar really highlight his arrogance. The only positives he comes up with are things that he can use to further his own ambitions. He discounts everything about Dalinar except for Dalinar’s talent at war, and rather than try to help him with his alcoholism, he facilitates it.
His relationship with Navani isn’t much better. While we do see some snippets of humanity in his thoughts about her, he quickly squashes them, as he believes that he needs to distance himself from “mortal feelings.” Whether this would be an effective strategy for warding off the insanity inherent in immortality, we’ll never know, as he doesn’t live to see his plan put into motion.
I’m not sure if we can categorize Gavilar’s relationship with Taravangian as anything more than an acquaintance; and catastrophically poor judgment of character, on Gavilar’s part. That’s a running theme with him: He’s incapable of recognizing the parts of other people that are worthy of praise and therefore, he’s unable to tap into or foster those strengths into something more. And that’s his biggest failure, ultimately.
Dalinar
A reminder of the fact that at this point in the story, Dalinar is still deep in the throes of alcoholism, PTSD, and depression. He’s murdered his own wife, is keeping that fact from his sons, and isn’t treating them particularly well, either. He’s a broken man, through and through, and hasn’t yet made his journey to the Nightwatcher to remove his traumatic memories. It’s hard to see glimmers of the noble man we come to know in The Way of Kings in this broken husk.
Kelsier
If you didn’t know before now that Thaidakar was our old friend Kel from Mistborn… well… surprise! There’s always another secret.
“You can’t ‘grow beyond’ the tide, Gavilar,” Thaidakar replied. “You swim with it or get swept away.”
Kel would know this better than most, given his failed revolt against the Lord Ruler. In a way, it’s almost nice to see him voicing this. Growth, much? (But if he’s not fighting against the tide, what is he doing?)
We know that he was chilling out in the Cognitive Realm for a while before finding a physical body to inhabit on Scadrial, but we’re still pretty hazy on what his goals are, and how his character has changed. Without inner POV chapters from him, all we have are our best guesses.
The big question is… what does Kel want with Restares? He IS a noble, but Kel’s grown past that at this point. He has bigger plans than just overthrowing a ruling class. Or at least, we can assume he does… It must have something to do with the fact that Restares is actually a Herald, but… what?
Nale
He wasn’t a man who gave way. Not to wind, not to storm, and most certainly not to other people.
Not much more to say about him than that, eh? Sums him up quite nicely. Nale has never been one to see the grey in a situation; it’s always either black or white, crime or law. We know that Nale is hell-bent against another Desolation happening and is willing to do pretty much anything to avoid it. Will we see some growth in him over the course of this book? Or is he destined to die? Will he just remain the same, unchanging forever? Time will tell…
Restares (aka Kelek)
“I wanted the honor of men to return! I wanted us to explore what made those Radiants so grand. Before things went wrong.” He ran his hand through his thinning hair. “Before… I made them… go wrong…”
Another instance of a Herald gone insane? Or is there more to this quote? We do know that after this point in the story, he heads off to Lasting Integrity and remains there until Adolin’s trial in Rhythm of War.
Stormfather
The little man didn’t know Gavilar had become familiar with the Stormfather, who had told him the truth: that the Heralds had all long since died and gone to Braize.
What reason does he have to lie? There’s a lot of really interesting information in here that can be read between the lines in their conversation.
Vasher
He had his scholar, though in truth Gavilar was baffled by the Light he was creating… Light that could somehow kill the Voidbringers? How had Vasher made—
More importantly, why the heck is VASHER helping Gavilar? What possible motivation could he have had? We currently don’t know much about Vasher post-Warbreaker, or why he showed up here on Roshar in the first place.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts and Theories
This prologue has sure been a long time in coming, hasn’t it? Ever since the early days of The Stormlight Archive, theories have been flying hot and fast about what actually happened on the night of Gavilar’s assassination—and now we finally know the whole story. (Well, maybe.) (Mostly.)
“Do not get ahead of yourself, Gavilar. Find the Words.”
One of the biggest and longest-running theories out there is that Gavilar didn’t actually die, but rather became a Cognitive Shadow (like a Herald). And lo and behold, here he is trying to do exactly that… until he doesn’t. He dies with the Stormfather looming over him, telling him that he messed up, that he didn’t understand the assignment.
So that sure feels like a nail in the coffin for the Gavilar-Will-Be-Odium’s-Champion theory, doesn’t it?
But don’t you worry, merry theorists and Arcanists, because while this may have put an end to one big theory, the prologue opened up a few entirely new cans of worms: What’s going on with the Stormfather here? Is it even the Stormfather at all? And what’s the deal with a Herald dying on the night of the feast?
“Died?” Gavilar said. “Died. You said they were already dead! You said they were in Damnation!”
This sequence makes it clear that this entity calling itself the Stormfather is perfectly capable of lying to Gavilar, and in fact seems happy to do so for its own reasons. If it is the real Stormfather… whoo boy, that opens up whole worlds of potential complications, given his bond and relationship with Dalinar.
“Not him. I’m sorry, Gavilar. I made that mistake once. I will never trust your family again.”
The final interchange between Gavilar and the Stormfather is particularly fascinating here, since the Stormfather seems to tell Gavilar that he’s done with the Kholin family. Is this another lie, or did he change his mind? If it’s not the Stormfather at all, who is it? Some common opinions include Ishar, the mad Herald, or possibly one of the Unmade, here to cause chaos and get the Desolations up and running again.
“A Herald… a Herald has died… No. I am not ready… The Oathpact… No! They mustn’t see. They mustn’t know…”
If there’s one theory that’s taken the Cosmere fandom by storm in the last year or so, it’s that Shallan’s mother is the Herald Chanarach. Though we don’t know if the exact dates line up, we do know that Shallan killed her mother around the time of Gavilar’s feast. The red hair, the infamous “The world ended, and Shallan was to blame” line, the Word of Brandon that Taln never broke… there is a bunch of steam picking up around this one.
But this is Brandon Sanderson we’re talking about here. The obvious answer isn’t always the right one, and there’s still so much we don’t know about the Heralds. And this is far from the only point of interest in this prologue when it comes to the magic of the Cosmere.
Thaidakar was made entirely of softly glowing, white-blue light. He was younger than Gavilar had imagined—in his middle years, not the wizened elder he’d seemed. He had a large spike, also blue, through one eye. The point jutted out the back of his skull.
There was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it nod to the identity of Thaidakar at the end of Rhythm of War, but here we see it in full glory: Thaidakar is none other than Kelsier himself, back from the dead after the events of Mistborn Era 1, and getting his fingers in all sorts of pies outside of Scadrial.
Given how this book is coming right out with such a major Cosmere crossover as Kelsier—even if just in magic hologram form—and showing other interplanetary developments like the Seon and the movement of Investiture between worlds, I think we all need to buckle up. Brandon said “the gloves are coming off” with The Lost Metal, and now we’re heading into his biggest book yet.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections here on the site and on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters one and two![end-mark]
On December 6, 2024, Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
In addition, Stormlight beta readers Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest will be here every Monday to dig into the new details and implications of each new chapter. Keep track of their Wind and Truth Read-along here.
And that’s it! You don’t have to sign up for anything. You don’t have to circumvent any paywalls. You don’t have to turn off your ad blocker. The chapters will just be here for you to read and enjoy and discuss.
Back when we were Tor.com, we got into the tradition of serializing the Stormlight Archive series, starting with the very first book The Way of Kings, (all of it still here, by the way!) and we’re excited to be working with Dragonsteel Entertainment to continue that tradition with Wind and Truth. A lot has changed since then, but getting to read a new Stormlight with the Tor.com-now-Reactor commenters and readers… well, it feels like coming home.[end-mark]
*Note: The Wind and Truth title logo in this article is not the final version.
Happy Monday to our favorite Sanderfans and Cosmere Chickens, and welcome to another Wind and Truth read-along discussion. Last week we covered Chapters 19 and 20, and if it hasn’t felt like a Sanderlanche to you so far, well—buckle up, baby! We’ve enjoyed seeing your discussion on those chapters—check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments! This week, we tackle Chapters 21 and 22.
Note that this post will possibly contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, to follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Let’s get to it!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 21 is titled “Incomplete Truths” and the epigraph outlines the two lies Nohadon told to the travelers he had encountered.
Now we see Shallan and her plucky band of Lightweavers head to Narak to eavesdrop on the Ghostbloods, I guess? They’re disguised, of course, first as soldiers and then as crem scrapers as they set themselves up to watch the building where the Ghostbloods are supposed to be having their meeting.
One of the masked Ghostbloods, either Iyatil or the other woman from Scadrial, checks all of the newcomers before allowing them to enter the building. She feels their faces to check for Lightweavings and holds a jar of black sand up to each person, to check, I’m assuming, for investiture. (Drew has more to say about that below.)
After some hemming and hawing, Shallan and company decide to go through with their plan.
A plan which we will presumably see later, because the chapter moves back to Urithiru.
We catch up with Sigzil after the meeting at the top of the tower, feeling like a fraud and wresting with imposter syndrome to rival Navani’s. His spren calms him down when he worries that he isn’t like Kaladin, he doesn’t know how to lead. Vienta reminds him that he survived Bridge Four and that he’s now a leader, a hero.
“Live that truth.”
This scene got me right in the feels because I totally understand how Sig feels, constantly expecting that someone will figure out what a fraud you are. But we are more than we think we are, all of us. And so is Sigzil. ::grabs a tissue::
Sigzil strategizes with Kmakl and they decide to keep the Windrunners slated to go to Thaylen City at Narak until they’re needed for air support, then to send them to Thaylen City via Oathgate. Sig then tells Ka, another Windrunner, that he has a strange idea about how to defend Narak. Ka suggests running it past the Mink who, unsurprisingly, has disappeared again.
Meanwhile, Jasnah joins Dalinar, Navani, and Fen in what I’m presuming is the garden room, to further discuss matters. The room is overgrown with vines and grass and rockbuds. It’s not much to Dalinar’s liking but the Sibling says that they made it for their sister, the Nightwatcher, in case she were to visit.
The Sibling talks with them of when they were formed from the Stone six thousand years before. They mention that the Stone was the sibling of Wind (from which the Stormfather was formed?) and Night (from which the Nightwatcher was formed?) The Sibling mentions how confusing it is to learn of all that’s happened while they’ve slept.
Jasnah has questions, but it’s clear that Dalinar has something that he apparently wanted to tell them all privately, and that message of such import is that… he’s not ready to fight Odium. No… really? He mentions his mistake in overlooking the possibility of assault from the singers and worries that he’s overlooked something else.
Wit enters—he brings fruit for Jasnah… aww—and tells Dalinar that he’s wise to be worried. He mentions how the power of Odium would remember him (Wit) and hate him, but that he’s troubled by the situation with the new Vessel, who stole his memories and let Wit think he’d bested a god.
Then Dalinar tells them that he encountered Cultivation, and that she’d encouraged him to seek the Spiritual Realm in order to expand his knowledge of the past. He says that Cultivation told him he’s been on this path for years and could learn how to defeat Odium.
He asks Wit what really happened when Honor died and Wit admits that he doesn’t know.
“I was off-planet for the event, to my eternal shame. Other matters drew my attention, and I let the centuries slip away from me. He was erratic when I left. When I returned…” He shrugged. “Gone. The Radiants broken. The world in turmoil following the Recreance. I’ve been trying to catch up ever since.”
Dalinar asks him what happened to Honor’s power and Wit realizes that Cultivation has put an idea in Dalinar’s head. He advises him that anyone who takes up a shard ends up regretting it.
Jasnah proposes trying to renegotiate the contract, since Odium has a new Vessel. She suggests letting him leave Roshar and Wit says they can’t unleash him upon the Cosmere. But then Dalinar says that he thinks the best option is to pursue the avenue that will lead to Honor’s power. Wit, amazingly, agrees. If that doesn’t scare you… Wit agreeing that Dalinar should pursue the shard of Honor? Scares me.
As the discussion continues, Wit suddenly throws a bowl at a stack of tables, which smacks into Lift, hiding under a tablecloth. Jasnah had known she was there but Dalinar is caught completely off guard. And who should be with her but the Mink? Dalinar asks why he didn’t just ask to join them and Mink replies that asking just gives people the opportunity to say no.
He’d thought they were going into the private meeting to talk about retaking Alethkar. And then Herdaz. When Jasnah looks at Dalinar, she knows that taking Alethkar would be impossible. But the Mink, Dieno, is calling in his favor with Dalinar: He wants fifty Windrunners to transport a couple of hundred of his troops to Herdaz. Jasnah argues against it even as she knows that Dalinar will agree to it.
Then Ivory tells Jasnah that the Stormfather is near and Dalinar confirms it, saying that he’s overheard their conversation and isn’t happy about it. Dun-dun-dunn…
Chapter 22 is titled “Looking for a Third Option” and the epigraph mentions Nohadon parting with the family he had encountered.
Kaladin is amazed at the forested slope below the pass where they’d entered Shinovar. From stepping on vines to tapping leaves that don’t hide, he feels like the forest is frozen in time. Syl’s having a blast, flitting about, laughing. And then, finally, Kaladin attempts to break the ice with Szeth and get this therapy session started, already.
“Dalinar says that things you’ve done have left you scarred. Not only physically, but mentally.”
“Scars exist,” Szeth said. “They are permanent once you bear them. So you endure. Not only physically, but mentally.”
“What if they aren’t permanent?” Kaladin said. “Stormlight can heal physical scars. What if mental scars can heal too? If not remove them, then make them more limber, easier to bear—”
Szeth cuts him off—unsurprisingly, he seems less than open about his scars, or about anything else. He flat tells Kaladin that he’s not interested in why Dalinar sent Kaladin along.
“I trust Dalinar because I must,” Szeth continued. “So I am not allowed to resent you. Nevertheless, do not assume I will endure you trying to ‘save’ me, Kaladin Stormblessed. Not all beneath your judging gaze are in need of your protection. Keep your attention on finding the Herald.”
Well then, excuuuse me for trying to help! Not really—Kaladin wouldn’t say that. Probably. Instead, he begins asking questions about Ishar. Again, Szeth isn’t interested in a discussion. He says he’s just there to cleanse his homeland. He announces that there’s an Unmade in Shinovar. Kaladin asks how he knows it’s an Unmade and Szeth says that he met it.
Then he proceeds to start telling a story, which we will have to wait for, unfortunately. But it looks like we’re in for a flashback chapter soon!
For now, we go back to Dalinar, and what we expect to be a major spat with the Stormfather, who is quite angry. He takes Dalinar into a vision where they shout at each other for a while and Dalinar essentially tells the Stormfather to either help him or get out of his way. Well, you all read it, right? I can’t think of much to add to that very interesting conversation.
When Dalinar comes out of the vision, Wit is there, having heard everything. He instructs Dalinar to use Stormlight to connect to his “clock” so that he’ll know how much time is passing in the Physical Realm while he’s in the Spiritual Realm. They decide to experiment and go to fetch Navani and Jasnah.
So… Shallan is about to crash a Ghostblood party, we’re (hopefully) about to get a Szeth flashback, and Dalinar is going to experiment with the Spiritual Realm. Looks like we have a lot to look forward to next week!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
First, I dared not tell them this dusty traveler with whom they shared a meal was in fact that very king they had heard of. The second was that I did not explain that very king had abdicated his throne and walked away from his kingdom.
After we parted with affection the next day, I watched their cart roll into the distance, pulled by the father with two children riding in the rear, the mother striding with a pack on her back. Dust blew with them, for dust goes where it wishes, ignoring all borders.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Once again, we’ve got some interesting stuff here that doesn’t seem to tie in directly with the chapters that follow them. I suspect that once we get to the end of this part, the reason for these quotes will become clear, but for now… They’re still a bit of a mystery.
Chapter 21’s arch Heralds are Palah (Paliah), the patron of the Truthwatchers and Talenelat (Talenel, Taln), Herald of War, the patron of the Stonewards. Their attributes and roles are, respectively, Learned/Giving & Scholar and Dependable / Resourceful & Soldier. For a chapter with a pretty wide range of POVs represented, this pairing really seems to be most closely tied to the continuation of the strategy meeting. There’s a lot of thinking and planning in here, and in this author’s opinion, the Heralds portrayed are here because of that.
Meanwhile, Chapter 22’s arch Herald is solely Nalan (Nale), Herald of Justice, patron of Skybreakers. His attributes are Just/Confident, and his role is Judge. This one is a tough one. While we do have a Kaladin/Szeth POV, Nale doesn’t actually show up, and the entire conversation between Dalinar/the Stormfather/Wit doesn’t strike me as particularly just or confident. I suppose Nale might just be here for Szeth as a Skybreaker, but that seems awfully… plain.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t seeing a ton of new information or developments to analyze in either of these chapters in regards to character arcs and relationships. But I’m certain that Drew is going to have a field day below with all this Cosmere connectivity, so let’s go over the things I did notice so you can all dig into all that juicy Cosmere stuff!
Sigzil
Sigzil did his best to pretend he was Kaladin.
Oh, Sig. While it’s sweet that he looks up to Kal so much, Kaladin chose him specifically because he thought Sigzil would do a good job on his own merits.
Kaladin was always so sure of himself. He always knew the next step to take.
Excuse me while I go laugh myself silly in a corner. Poor Sig doesn’t know Kal nearly as well as he thinks he does. Nor do I think he would believe Kaladin, should Kal ever tell him just how often he second-guesses himself.
Bridge Four was the only place I ever felt like a person rather than an accident
Not a surprise to see this sentiment, as it’s shared almost universally amongst all the members of Bridge Four, but still heartwarming to see.
Dalinar
Now, for the first time she could remember, [Dalinar] asked if she wanted his help.
Interesting. What exactly precipitated this change? Part of me wonders if the issues Dalinar’s having with Adolin might have opened his eyes to the ways his actions have affected others. Or maybe it’s his ability to remember what happened with his wife.
I do also want to briefly touch on Dalinar’s decision to attempt to take on the Shard of Honor. It’s a noble goal, made all the more so because he doesn’t want it. I believe it was Plato who wrote that only those who do not seek power are qualified to hold it. Will Dalinar wind up traveling this route? I suppose we’ll have to RAFO, won’t we?
Kaladin/Szeth
The relationship that’s unfolding between these two is quite charming, in my humble opinion. Kaladin trying to gently pry Szeth out of his hiding hole while Szeth doesn’t think he’s hiding at all… It’s sweet, in a way.
I have killed, and I bear the weight of those killings. To wish otherwise would be to minimize the damage I have done.
There’s atonement for legitimate transgressions, and then there’s self-flagellation.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
After a fairly light set of chapters last week—at least in terms of magic on the page and theory territory—we hit the ground running with Chapter 21. At this point, we should probably expect that to be the case with Shallan POVs…
Her Unseen Court is preparing to infiltrate a Ghostblood hideout, but they’re running into a big problem: White Sand. Well, black sand, but it’ll turn white in the presence of kinetic Investiture. That means no Lightweaving and that means no Radiant spren. This isn’t a new phenomenon in The Stormlight Archive, of course; we’ve seen white sand used as far back as Oathbringer. But what’s notable is how widespread its use is becoming.
Where it was once a tool used by Hoid, it’s becoming relatively common knowledge. The Fused used it in Urithiru and now the Ghostbloods are utilizing it to heighten security. This is all another indicator of what Sanderson talked about with the release of The Lost Metal (and why we’re going full Cosmere spoilers for this read-along column). The gloves are off when it comes to crossovers, and cross-Cosmere elements are playing more of a direct role in the narrative, now, rather than being simply Easter eggs.
That’s not to say that there aren’t Easter eggs anymore, of course.
“Ask your spren what happens if fragments of a god are left to their own devices for too long. They stand up, start walking about, and start riding around in people’s earrings.”
This should be immediately notable to anyone who’s read Mistborn, but I wonder if Brandon might be playing a deeper game with this particular reference. Obviously earrings play a big role in the Metallic Arts, having utility across all three disciplines of Allomancy, Feruchemy, and Hemalurgy, but in the context of spren and Investiture gaining intelligence, it stands out even more. I feel like there’s a hint here.
There’s a more direct reference to Mistborn (and Elantris) a bit later, and this is directly relevant to Dalinar’s current conundrum:
“On one [the power of a god] was all around, and we didn’t realize it. In another, the god’s power was stuffed in a metaphorical closet—packed into Shadesmar, left to rot.”
This is of course referring to Preservation in the mists and the Dor in Sel’s Cognitive Realm. But there’s a huge question lingering about Honor. For the longest time, the assumption was that Honor’s splintering found an outlet via the spren on Roshar, and it was simply fragmented and spread widely across the world and in Shadesmar. But this conversation implies that the spren really couldn’t be much of an outlet, and Honor’s power must be hanging around somewhere, more coherent than anyone realized.
It would be thematically appropriate to have it actually be in the Spiritual Realm. That would complete the trifecta, with three worlds each dealing with the power of a fallen Shard in one of the three Realms. Dalinar certainly seems to think Cultivation is leading him in the right direction.
And speaking of Rosharan history and the forces of Investiture that inhabit it:
“The Nightwatcher came from the Night, as the Stormfather came from the Wind.”
and
“I, formed from the Stone, which was the sibling of the Wind and Night.”
These primal (or perhaps primordial) forces, given shape by Cultivation and Honor, are taking more and more of a prominent spot. The arrival of the Wind as an entity is one thing, and fits well with Kaladin’s arc, but now we have Stone and Night as well. On top of that, the Sibling’s apparently confused recollections are throwing a real wrench in things.
Well, maybe.
Jasnah notes that the Sibling’s account of the timeline conflicts with the Stormfather’s, and the Sibling admits they are confused. But these chapters outright confirm that the Stormfather has lied to Dalinar!
Does that surprise you? Anger you?
It’ll probably anger a lot of the fans of the Stormfaker theory, at least. The Stormfather pretty openly talks about how he did in fact try to work with Galivar, and that his word cannot be taken at face value.
Maybe the Sibling is right about the timeline, and the Stormfather lied about this as well? One way or another, the history of Roshar needs to come to light sooner rather than later…and things are lining up fast for a side trip into the Spiritual Realm!
Fan Theories
Karen T on Reactor has some thoughts about Szeth and, oh boy, do we feel this:
I have a feeling I’m going to be spending half the time wanting to give Szeth a big hug due to all his trauma, and the other half wanting to slap him upside the head due to his being insensitive to Kaladin. Thankfully Nightblood will help defuse the tension with his comments.
Also regarding Szeth, or his spren, rather, JPGU says:
I have a Theory about Szeth’s Highspren, the fact that we don’t know his name makes me think that he is Auxiliary
And Isilel feels that Urithiru is in danger:
So, Skybreakers are totally waltzing into Urithiru after it gets emptied of troops, aren’t they? The omission in Sibling’s assurances was very blatant.
I don’t understand why they don’t consider dismantling the physical structure of the Oathgate, like the Fused intended to do at Thaylenah in OB once they started losing. Maybe this is something that will finally occur to the Sibling/Navani at a dramatically appropriate time?
1234 also thinks that Urithiru is in danger, but from a different quarter:
Nobody mentioned Ishar in ch 2? Our boys might never meet him because he will make a strike on unprotected Urithiru, what if he can somehow see what Dalinar sees due to their meeting and stealing a part of Dalinar bond or something? It would be cool to see Navani confronting him and we see what Sibiling is capable in battle vs Bondsmith Unchained… he created Oathpact he might be able to enter Urithiru on his own. Kal and Szeth will not find him but battle the Unmade and then Szeth swears his 4th ideal and go majin Vegeta on Kaladin due to Unmade tricks and we finally see what Division does.
Meanwhile, jer is concerned for Adolin and/or Dalinar:
I have been converted: Adolin is so dead. Either that or Dalinar is. Without reconciliation, one of them is deader than a doornail, and the survivor will live with the guilt…
What do you think? We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 23 and 24![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 23: Compromise
Would that men could always do the same—if I could enshrine one law in all further legal codes, it would be this. Let people leave if they wish.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
The drizzle had fully committed to rain by the time Radiant’s team moved into position. If those last few Ghostbloods were coming to the meeting, they would arrive soon. And if there weren’t more coming… well, an enemy conference was likely underway, making it even more important that Radiant get into that hideout.
So, she helped Red wheel a small tool cart down the roadway, past rainspren like candles, each with a single eye on the top. They reached an intersection right in front of the Ghostblood hideout. She found the Ghostbloods setting up here to be impressively blatant. When others made hideouts in grimy corners of the worst parts of a city, they chose the middle of a storming military camp. Some people higher in the Alethi military must be in Mraize’s pocket. She’d have work to do uncovering them all.
Once in position, she and Red began to set up a small pavilion in the rain. They’d dropped their Lightweavings, relying on hooded cloaks to mask their faces, in case that sand could reveal them. Soon someone from the Ghostbloods—as expected—came to check on them.
It wasn’t the masked guard. Damnation. Radiant kept calm and allowed Red to handle it while she hung back, fiddling with their tools. The guard she wanted—the one with the mask—emerged from the shadowed porch but did not approach.
“Hey,” the other Ghostblood said as he arrived. “What’s this?” His name was Shade, a man with Horneater blood, though he looked more Alethi despite the forked beard. She thought the masked woman had fetched him as they were setting up.
“We’re supposed to level this intersection,” Red said. He noted Shade’s Alethi uniform. “I have the orders somewhere, Sergeant.”
“You’re supposed to work in the rain?” Shade demanded.
“Yeah. Storming unfair.” Red thumbed at the little pavilion. “At least we’ve got that. If you want to take it up with the camp operations commander, I wouldn’t mind a little time off.”
Shade picked through the tools, then poked around in the pavilion—while the masked guard lurked by the building. Adolin’s sessions with Radiant let her spot the readiness of a trained soldier: the stance, the alert attention.
Calm, careful, Radiant rearranged the tools after Shade finished poking through them. He was built like a boulder, so it would be easy to assume he was the more dangerous, but he didn’t have the casual grace the masked woman did. Shade stepped back in thought, rain dripping down his beard. He wouldn’t want to draw attention, but he also wouldn’t want random workers so close to their base, maybe hearing things they shouldn’t.
“Pack up and work somewhere else,” he told Red. “For at least a couple more hours. You don’t need authorization; just tell them I gave the orders.”
Red glanced at Radiant, and—hood pulled tight—she nodded.
“Yes, Sergeant,” Red said with a sigh.
The two of them slowly began disassembling the pavilion. Shade returned to the masked guard and they exchanged whispers. Then the guard fell into position by the door while Shade slipped inside, passing a large jar of the black sand that had been tied hanging outside.
“That’s a problem,” Red whispered over the sound of beating rain. “Did you catch their exchange?”
“Mmm…” Pattern said from Radiant’s coat. “He said, ‘I want them gone by the time Aika and Jezinor get here.’ And the woman said, ‘Ya.’ ”
“We were supposed to lure out the short one,” Red said. “We need that mask.”
“I’ll go in close and deal with her,” Radiant said.
“You sure?” Red asked. “What if she makes noise?”
“I’ll be quick,” she replied, noting Gaz as he came trotting up to them.
“My part’s done,” Gaz said. “Why are we taking the pavilion down?”
“Get angry about it,” Radiant said, with a nudge from Veil. “Demand to know who gave these orders. Pretend you’re our foreman.”
Gaz launched into it with gusto, complaining loudly that they didn’t have authorization to set up anywhere else. He did well enough he even drew a few angerspren. Perfect. Shallan and Red set up the pavilion again—they’d barely started disassembling it—while Gaz demanded to speak to the sergeant who had changed their orders. With that as an excuse, Radiant told Pattern to wait behind, then walked over to the building. She stepped out of the rain into the covered porch, and hesitated by the door.
The guard emerged from the shadows, mask peeking from the front of her hood. As on Iyatil, it made the woman seem… inhuman. Painted wood, without carvings of facial features—hiding all except those eyes. Locked on to her.
“Oh!” Radiant said. “Sorry. But, um, our foreman wants to talk to you. Um. It’s… um. Sorry…”
The guard took her by the arm. Radiant twisted and whipped up her other hand—pushing a small stiletto toward the guard’s throat. The enemy caught it, her eyes narrowing, then grunted and shoved Radiant backward, trying to trip her.
A year training with Adolin gave Radiant some unexpected grit. She resisted the shove and kept her stance, locking eyes with the masked creature.
Now, she ordered her armor.
In a blink, the armor formed. Not around her, but around the guard, freezing her in place as it had Red earlier. Radiant caught a glimpse of a pair of shocked eyes as the helmet encased the woman’s face.
Shallan! the creationspren said, eager.
“Just keep her mouth closed,” she said. “Like the drawing Shallan did for you. Right?”
Shallan! they replied in a chorus. The only sound from the guard was muffled exertion, so hopefully the helmet plan was working. Radiant thought they’d explained it well enough to the creationspren: a mechanism that held the jaw shut by making the helmet tighter at the bottom, below the mask.
She checked the sand in the hanging jar. Still black, as she’d hoped. They’d said that it took an intelligent spren to activate the stuff—which made sense, otherwise it would be useless, turning white in warning whenever someone got anxious. Her Plate spren hadn’t affected it even when forming.
Red and Gaz came jogging up. “It worked,” Radiant whispered, her heart thumping from the exchange.
Gaz nodded toward the woman’s motionless left hand, raising a knife toward Radiant—the gauntlet had simply formed around it, letting the blade peek out. She’d missed that entirely. A good warning. A year of practice had given her some skill, but it was a weak substitute for a lifetime of battle experience.
“Eh,” Red whispered, wheeling over the cart, “she could have healed from it.”
“And what would that have done to the sand?” Gaz whispered, gesturing toward the glass jar. “We’re not sure if a healing will activate it or not. If so, the first person who stepped through that door would have known a Radiant had been here.” He inspected the armor closer, locked down as it was. “Yet this did work. I can barely hear her.”
The captive woman didn’t even tremble from struggling to escape. Together, they managed to tip her into the two-wheeled cart, throw a tarp over her, then wheel it into their small pavilion. Had any guards on the walls seen? Darcira and the strike team were poised to intercept any who came running, but still she worried.
Move quickly, Shallan thought, taking over from Radiant. She didn’t want the last few Ghostbloods to arrive at the door and find the guard missing.
Gaz put his arms around the head of the armored woman to be in position. He nodded.
Shallan touched the armor. Could you dismiss just the helmet please? she asked.
Shallan! the armor said. The helmet vanished in a puff of Stormlight. Gaz snapped his arms around the woman’s neck, executing a perfect choke hold. Shallan needed Radiant again for a moment while watching the struggling woman be strangled, her eyes bulging, her skin going a deep red around the mask.
Gaz didn’t kill her, though he held on longer than Radiant thought necessary. He’d explained earlier: assuming your attacker didn’t want to kill you, the best way to escape a choke hold was to pretend to fall unconscious early. So Gaz ignored the struggles, the painspren, the frantic eyes, the sudden limpness and counted to himself softly.
She’d never asked how he knew this so well.
Gaz nodded, and Shallan dismissed the armor, then began stripping to her undergarments while the two other Lightweavers efficiently undressed the guard, then bound and gagged her. Gaz had warned Shallan that people usually didn’t stay unconscious for long after being choked out. Indeed, the guard was stirring as Shallan finished re-dressing, wearing the woman’s clothing. Utilitarian brown leathers that weren’t particularly formfitting, along with a hooded cloak and a frightening number of knives strapped across her person.
Though Shallan was accustomed to being short compared to the Alethi, she was a tad taller than this offworlder. Close enough, hopefully. She already had her hair under a wig, but her options had been limited, so she was distressed to notice that the guard had closer-cropped hair than the pictures had depicted. Storms. She’d cut her hair, which meant Shallan would have to leave the hood up indoors. Would that seem odd?
Red knelt beside the figure, then—appearing more unnerved by this than stripping a captive—tried to figure out how to remove the mask. Turned out it was bound in place by two cords, which he undid, and pulled the red-orange mask free. Shallan had expected it to stick—she’d always felt that Iyatil had worn hers so long that the skin had grown over it. That proved an incorrect assumption; the mask was obviously removed and cleaned often, but it was also worn so continuously that it left imprints on the guard’s face.
Her skin was as pale as Shallan’s, and without the mask she seemed far less dangerous. Though she was probably in her middle years, her face was smooth, almost childlike.
Stop that, Shallan thought, taking the mask from Red. You need to stop comparing all Shin people to children. It was a bad habit. Besides, this woman wasn’t even Shin—she was an offworlder who just happened to look Shin.
Shallan tied on the mask and pulled up her hood. The mask covered her full face, and was peaked slightly at the center, sloped at the sides. It was wide enough that her ears would barely be visible. Aside from the eyeholes, it had two holes near the nose for breathing, and a small portion was missing for the mouth—like a bite had been taken out of it at the chin.
Red nodded. “Looks pretty good.”
“I don’t know,” Gaz replied, scratching his cheek. “It would fool a casual passerby. But Ghostbloods?”
Shallan fell into an imitation of the woman’s stance. Dangerous, ready. Stepping with the kind of casual grace that took years to perfect. She narrowed her eyes behind the mask, mimicking the woman’s expression—conveying it through posture.
Well done, Veil thought.
Red glanced at Gaz, cocking an eyebrow.
“All right, fine,” Gaz said. “I still find it creepy how she can do things like that. Just don’t take the hood off. The hair is wrong.”
A moment later, Darcira ducked into the pavilion. “You’re not in place yet?”
“Going now,” Shallan said in a whisper, as it was easier to mask her voice that way.
“Did you find your watchpost?” Darcira said to Gaz.
“Yeah,” he said. “Neutralized them fast enough to show up here and help. What took you so long?”
“Had to go and position the strike team, if you forgot,” Darcira said. “What do we do if there were more than two observation posts watching the base?”
None of them could answer that, but they’d spotted only two in their sweep of the area. They had to trust in their skills. Shallan slipped one of her team’s spanreeds into her sleeve, glanced at Pattern—dimpling the wood of the cart, humming to himself nervously—then waved goodbye. She left them, instead falling into place by the alcove. She maintained the same posture and stance as before. Sticking to shadows. Not speaking.
You can do this, Veil whispered.
Her heart still thrummed like listener war drums. She was going to enter the enemy stronghold alone—and could not use her powers. But it was the only way. What did you do when there was a guard watching for you?
You became the guard.
Not five minutes later, Shallan spotted two people trotting up to the safehouse. Aika and Jezinor, a pair of Thaylen traders. They’d arrived with Queen Fen’s retinue, which explained why they were some of the last. They’d needed to find an excuse to come to the Shattered Plains.
Shallan’s nervousness faded as she made a good show of checking their features with her hands, then holding the glass jar of sand up to each one. Neither seemed to notice anything off. She knocked on the door, as she’d seen done before. Shade opened it and waved the other two in. Shallan slipped in herself, and he held the door open for her. They’d be trusting their watchposts to send spanreed warnings if anything approached the safehouse. Posting a guard outside for too long risked drawing attention.
This was it. Veil was right, she could do this. Unless they asked her to say too much. Unless there was a third watchpost they hadn’t found. Unless her disguise failed.
It was too late now. She had walked confidently straight into the den. Now she either proved to be a predator herself, or she got eaten.
* * *
Navani left Dalinar alone in the room with the plants to talk to the Stormfather while she stepped outside with the others, knowing he’d fill her in later.
She entered a world of chaos. Strategists planning, messengers running orders, a world spinning up to deal with another crisis. It was time to be a queen. Which regrettably meant dealing with all the random issues that no one else could. At the perimeter of the room, at least a dozen people waited for her attention.
So many systems had fallen apart during the occupation. Schooling had been ignored. Trade for less important supplies—everything from extra buttons to feed for pet axehounds—had been interrupted. Now, with the tower awakened, many problems were being solved while others—such as who got to use which services when—were just beginning.
They could handle it without her, but they didn’t know it. And… perhaps she needed to banish such thoughts. She was important to the administration of this tower, this kingdom. Vital even.
So she went into motion, assigning some of her staff to various problems. Makal to rehouse people whose living quarters now turned out to be important for other reasons. Venan to organize meals for everyone attending the meeting, and to covertly keep a list of who was sending what messages where, just in case.
Next she found Highprince Sebarial and Palona waiting for her. They had learned an unfortunate lesson: that sometimes you had to put yourself where Navani could see you in order to get her time. They had questions about how to get supplies into the city if there was a war on the Shattered Plains.
“We can’t keep relying on the Oathgates,” Sebarial said, rubbing his forehead. The girthy man had gone back to wearing an open-fronted takama, now that the weather was summer at the tower, and his belly poked out in a way he reportedly thought was distinguished. “But organizing shipments from Azir up through these mountains is going to be an enormous hassle. Flying them in will be prohibitively expensive in Stormlight unless we can make more airships. Yes, we can grow food now, but other supplies…”
“Bring me proposals,” Navani said, looking over Palona’s ledgers.
“This was supposed to make me rich!” Sebarial said. “I was Highprince of Commerce! I was supposed to be able to skim thousands to line my own pockets! But I can barely make any of this balance. There’s nothing to skim!”
“Don’t mind him, Brightness,” Palona said. “He’s having a rough time with how responsible he’s becoming.”
“You’re good at being useful, Sebarial,” Navani said. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“My darkest secret,” he grumbled. “I still pay for my household staff, vacations, and massages out of public funds, I’ll have you know. It’s a huge scandal.”
“I’m sure Brightness Navani knows what a miscreant you are, gemheart,” Palona said, patting his arm.
He sighed. “We’re mobilizing troops to Thaylenah and the Shattered Plains. You’re authorizing active battle pay, then? You realize this is going to dip into what little we have remaining? We might be able to offer extra rations instead of battle pay in some cases.”
“Thank the Almighty for the emeralds we got on the Shattered Plains,” Palona said. “It’s the only way we’re making enough food for everyone right now.”
“I’ll see if we can get more time with the Radiant Soulcasters,” Navani said. “Given the way the tower is functioning, we can have them working at an increased speed.”
“They break gemstones as they work, Brightness,” Sebarial said. “Even Radiant Soulcasters need gems as a focus, which means we can’t continue like this forever. We’ll need a gemheart ranch up here, but there isn’t a lot of space, so we can’t lose the Shattered Plains.”
She did her best to calm him, then took a meeting with Highprince Aladar on the status of the lighteyes. There was a lot of general panic about Jasnah’s work to free the Alethi slaves, a decision that Dalinar had copied for Urithiru after some persuasion. It would be a slow process, designed to take effect over time, with social systems in place to facilitate. Jasnah, as usual, had done her research.
However, the lighteyes were pushing back. “Tradition will be cast to the winds,” Aladar said. “The upright, natural order of things is being trampled. How can the lighteyed families maintain themselves without lands and taxes? What does it even mean to be lighteyed any longer?”
“It means what it has always meant,” Navani said.
“Which is?” Aladar asked. “Brightness, with the elevation of Stormblessed to a full house, and now to third dahn, what about the other Radiants? More than three-quarters of them were darkeyed and are now light. It’s chaos!”
“It’s a problem for after the contest, Aladar,” Navani said. “When we’re not focused on a mass invasion. For now, I need logistical work from you. Make certain that supplies are transferred per the generals’ requests. Fen can provision some of the soldiers we send her, but if we move battalions to Narak they’ll run out of water quickly if we don’t prepare. Also, make sure to check on Adolin and get him what he needs.”
The stately bald man shook his head and sighed. “As you wish—but my concerns won’t go away, Brightness. This problem is a bubbling cauldron. It’s going to overflow. Only the invasions are stopping it.”
“I know,” she said. “But let’s worry about the crisis we are facing now first, Aladar.”
He bowed, then went to see to her orders. She tried not to be annoyed—and commanded the appearing irritationspren to vanish. Aladar was reasonable for a highlord, and was simply passing on what the less reasonable highlords were thinking. They were a powerful contingent, and hadn’t failed to notice that—after years of politicking—almost everyone who had opposed Dalinar was now dead. Rumors about what had really happened to Sadeas churned, for all that Jasnah worked behind the scenes to quash them.
Yes, the upper ranks of the lighteyes were a bubbling cauldron. Unfortunately for them, the darkeyes had been boiling for far longer—and they suddenly had access to advocates in the form of people who could bend the laws of reality. She suspected that if it came to a head, the lighteyes would discover how little “tradition” was worth in the face of centuries of pent-up rage.
Navani put that problem out of her mind for the time being. It was dangerous to do so, but she had to perform mental triage. War was upon them, and for eight more days she needed to keep everyone pointed the same direction. She worked through a dozen other problems as functionaries and aides found her. She kept turning and finding lifespren swirling around her, or gloryspren skulking by the ceiling, or any number of them darting around. It was like she was some storming heroine from a story, the silly type where a young and innocent girl always had a thousand lifespren or whatever bobbing around her.
As she worked, she kept glancing toward the room where Dalinar met with the Stormfather. He’d always been ambitious. But this?
Is it right, what he contemplates? she asked the Sibling. Ascending to Honor?
Someone will need to eventually, the Sibling said. The power can’t be left to its own devices. It will come awake.
Why hasn’t it already? It’s been thousands of years.
Whatever the reason, be glad. These powers aren’t like the tiny pieces that become spren. The power of a Shard needs a partner, a Vessel. Without it…
What? Navani asked.
Great danger. We do not think as humans do. To separate the power from those who are attached to the Physical Realm… that should frighten you. It is not so terrible a thing for part of me to despise you. But for the power of a god to? Dangerous. For all of us.
Navani shivered at the Sibling’s tone, but had to keep working. She checked in with her scholars, who had been waiting patiently in the next room—one of the few small ones that made a ring around the lifts up here. Inside, seven ardents had set up a display. Navani hated to make them cart it all the way up here, but despite the faster lifts, there just wasn’t time for her to go elsewhere for meetings. People needed to come to her.
Rushu met her at the doorway, in her usual grey ardent’s robes, sweat trickling down her brow. Indeed, this room was uncomfortably warm. The pretty woman was, as usual, trailed by several young male ardents eager for her attention. In this case they’d volunteered to set up Rushu’s presentation. Even after all these years, Navani couldn’t decide if Rushu was oblivious or deliberate in the way she ignored masculine interest.
“Brightness!” Rushu said, bowing as she entered. “Thank you for making the time.”
“I don’t have long, I’m afraid,” Navani said. “Dalinar’s antagonizing the Stormfather again, and I’ll need to go the moment he’s ready to talk.”
“Understood, Brightness,” Rushu said, walking her to a counter set up with some fabrials and a small oven burning Soulcast coal, of all things. A separate attractor fabrial above it collected the smoke and invisible deadly gases in a sphere of swirling blackness, allowing the small oven to burn without scent or the need for a chimney. Flamespren played within, their iridescent forms mimicking the shape of the fire and the molten red coloring of the hearts of coal.
Beside the oven was a more modern heating device, a large ruby fabrial like the ones they’d installed in many rooms. Those were proving, to the Sibling’s annoyance, more effective than the tower’s ancient methods, which required heating air in a boiler at the center of each floor, then blowing it into the specific room when requested. While that was amazing, a simple ruby heating fabrial didn’t waste energy keeping massive boilers going all the time. Unfortunately, modern fabrials had other problems, at least in the eyes of the Sibling.
“We’ve only had a day or so to work,” Rushu said, “but I wanted to show you our progress. This was an enlightened idea you had—and could revolutionize the fabrial art! Brightness… this could be your legacy.”
“Our legacy, Rushu,” Navani said. “You’re doing the work.”
“Pardon, Brightness. It’s your idea. Your genius.”
Navani prepared another complaint, then… then discarded it. Storms, maybe she was growing. “Thank you, Rushu. Let’s not assume we’ve changed the world after one day’s work though. Show me what you’ve done.”
Rushu unlatched the glass front of the oven. The group of flamespren within shivered as the cool air entered, then continued to frolic, taking the shapes of small minks cavorting over the surface of the burning coal.
She plucked a coal out with a pair of tongs, then nodded to one of her assistants. The heating fabrial next to the oven had an outlet valve: basically, a hole drilled into the gemstone that they kept plugged with an aluminum stopper. The assistant unscrewed the plug and opened the valve, usually something quite inadvisable. Because the moment he did so, the flamespren in the heating fabrial—a vital piece of what powered it—would escape.
This one scrambled out onto the plug and immediately started to vanish back into the Cognitive Realm. Then Rushu held her coal close to it. Another ardent used tuning forks to play what they hoped was a comforting tone to the spren. Instead of vanishing, the flamespren hopped onto the coal in Rushu’s hand and let her deposit it in the oven. She came out a moment later with a different flamespren on another coal, blinking glowing red eyes, red “fur” blazing along its form.
Calmed by the tone, it let her bring it over to the fabrial. They trapped it inside using modern techniques of Stormlight diffusion. Then, with the gemstone plugged and a new spren inside, they recharged the fabrial with a Radiant’s help and turned it back on so it began heating again.
What abomination are you creating now? the Sibling asked in Navani’s head.
Abomination? Navani replied. Did you not see what we just did?
Enslaving spren, the Sibling said, in torment and captivity.
Navani leaned down by the front glass of the oven, where the spren were scampering across the coals. Torment, you say? Tell me, Sibling, which of these spren was the one held captive? If it was tormented, I can’t see any lasting effect.
It’s still wrong to keep spren in such small prisons, the Sibling said.
“Brightness,” Rushu said, leaning in beside her and looking at the spren in the oven, “this is really possible. Did you read the writings of Geranid and Ashir I gave you?”
“Some of it,” Navani said. “Before the invasion. I know they’ve been able to keep the same flamespren for months at a time, without losing them to the Cognitive Realm. It requires maintenance of a fire.”
“Yes, but there’s more!” Rushu said. “Their research taught me something amazing: the flamespren will stay even longer if you give them treats.”
“What kind of treats do flamespren want?” Navani asked. “More coal?”
“Names,” Rushu said. “Names and compliments. Brightness, if you think about the spren, they mold to your thoughts.”
“I read about the molding process,” Navani said. “If you measure them, they lock to those measurements. But… compliments?”
“This one is Bippy,” Rushu said, pointing to one of the spren. “See how its head has that little tuft on top?”
Bippy looked toward them at the attention, then hopped up to the edge of the oven, staring out with too-large eyes. A bit of fire itself, responding to Rushu merely mentioning its name.
“Fascinating,” Navani said as some of the gloryspren that trailed her began to spin around the two of them.
“We can cultivate them over time,” Rushu said. “An entire… herd? Pod?”
“I’m voting for a flare,” one of the other ardents said. “A flare of flamespren.”
“An entire flare, then,” Rushu said, “of domesticated flamespren. It’s too early to tell, but Brightness, you might be right. If they can be trained… then we can teach them to go in and out of fabrials on command.”
Domesticated flamespren? the Sibling asked. Nonsense.
Is it? Navani asked, still watching Bippy. Rushu moved her finger back and forth in front of the glass, and Bippy ran to follow it. When Rushu complimented the spren on its trick, Navani could have sworn that Bippy glowed brighter. Intelligent spren seek bonds with people. Why not lesser spren?
It… it isn’t natural, the Sibling said.
Pardon, Sibling, Navani said. But neither is living in towers that are climate controlled. If we conformed only to what was natural, my people would be living naked in the wilderness and defecating on the ground.
The Sibling simmered in the back of her mind, like a burning coal themself.
You’ve said our practices are cruel, Navani said, trying to soften her tone. I’m attempting to do something about that. We keep chulls as beasts of burden; can we not do the same for spren? If being in a fabrial is uncomfortable for a spren… well, so is pulling a cart for a chull. But assuming it’s not too bad, we should be able to train them to do it willingly, with rewards. We can … cultivate them, Sibling. Isn’t this a better way? To have spren take shifts in the fabrials, with training to get in and out willingly?
She held her breath, waiting. The Sibling had been hard-nosed about this.
See my heart, Sibling, she sent. See that I’m trying.
I see, the Sibling said. Rushu jolted and looked around, as did the other ardents, indicating the Sibling had chosen to be audible to them as well. This is a good thing you attempt. All spren being free would be preferable. But… if this works… perhaps I can see a compromise. Thank you. For listening and changing. I had forgotten that people are capable of that.
Navani released a held breath, and with it a mountain of tension. Rushu’s eyes had gone wide, and the ardent fiddled in her pocket, pulling free a notebook.
“Sibling?” Rushu whispered, awespren bursting around her. “Thank you for talking to me. Thank you so much!”
What is this? the Sibling asked Navani.
Rushu’s been asking after you constantly since we bonded, Navani thought. Haven’t you heard?
As I said, I don’t pay attention to every word spoken inside my halls, the Sibling said. Only to what is relevant. Then, after a pause, they continued, Is this relevant?
To Rushu, yes, Navani said.
With her notepad out, Rushu bit her lip and looked to Navani pleadingly.
“Rushu would like the chance to talk to you,” Navani said out loud. “I think she wants to ask you about fabrials.”
“Very well,” the Sibling said, and Rushu gasped softly. “You should go, Navani. I believe your husband’s conversation with my sibling is finished. There will be ramifications.”
Navani nodded. As she left, though, she heard the first of Rushu’s questions—and was surprised that it wasn’t about fabrials at all.
“Navani tells me,” Rushu said, “that you are neither male nor female.”
“It is true.”
“Could you tell me more about that?” Rushu asked.
“To a human, it must sound very strange.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” Rushu said quietly. “Not in the slightest. But talk, please. I want to know how it feels to be you.”
Navani left them to it, pleased. The fabrial experiment showed promise—but more, if she could get the Sibling talking to other scholars, she suspected that would help with the spren’s reintegration. So far, the Sibling only worked with them because Navani had essentially bullied them back into a bond. The more friends, or at least acquaintances, that the Sibling had, the better.
For now though, it was time for Navani to deal with another spren. And with a husband who had decided to become a god.
Szeth-son-Neturo found magic upon the wind, and so he danced with it.
Strict, methodic motions at first, as per the moves he had memorized. He stepped and spun, dancing in a wide circle around the large boulder. Szeth was as the limbs of the oak, rigid but ready. When those shivered in the wind, Szeth thought he could hear their souls seeking to escape, to shed bark like shells and emerge with new skin, pained by the cool air—yet aflush with joy. Painful and delightful, like all new things.
Szeth’s bare feet scraped across the packed earth as he danced, getting it on his toes, loving the feel of the soil. He went right to the edge, feet kissing the grass—then danced back, spinning to the accompaniment of his sister’s flute. The music was his dance partner, wind made animate through sound. The flute was the voice of air itself.
Time became thick when he danced. Molasses minutes and syrup seconds. Yet the wind wove among them, visiting each moment, lingering, then dashing away. He followed it. Emulated it. Became it.
More and more fluid he became as he circled the stone. No more rigidity, no more preplanned steps. Sweat flying from his brow to seek the sky, he was the air. Churning, spinning, violent. Around and around, his dance worship for the rock at the center of the bare ground. Five feet across and three feet high—at least the part that emerged from the soil—it was the largest in the region.
When he was wind, he felt he could touch that sacred stone, which had never known the hands of man. He imagined how it would feel. The stone of his family. The stone of his past. The stone to whom he gave his dance. He stopped finally, panting. His sister’s music cut off, leaving his only applause the bleating of the sheep. Molli the ewe had wandered onto the circular dance track again, and—bless her—was trying to eat the sacred rock. She never had been the smartest of the flock.
Szeth breathed deeply, sweat streaming from his face, wetting the packed earth below with speckles like stars.
“You practice too hard,” his sister—Elid-daughter-Zeenid—said. “Seriously, Szeth. Can’t you ever relax?”
She stood up from the grass and stretched. Elid was fourteen, three years older than he was. Like him, she was on the shorter side—though she was squat where he was spindly. Trunk and branch, Dolk-son-Dolk called them. Which was appropriate, even if both Dolks were idiots.
She wore orange as her splash: the vivid piece of colorful clothing that marked them as people who added. One article per person, of whatever color they desired. In her case, a bright orange apron across a grey dress and vibrant white undergown. She spun her flute in her fingers, uncaring that she had broken her previous one doing exactly that.
Szeth bowed his head and went to get some water from the clay trough. Their homestead was nearby: a sturdy building constructed of boards, held together with wooden pegs. No metal, of course. Szeth’s father worked on the rooftop, plugging a hole. Normally he oversaw the other shepherds, visiting them to give them help. There was some kind of training involved, which Szeth didn’t understand. What kind of training did shepherds need? You just had to listen to the sheep, and follow them, and keep them safe.
Neturo was between assignments, working on the house he and his brothers had built. In a field opposite the home—distant but visible—the majority of their sheep grazed. A few, like Molli, preferred to stay close. Szeth liked when they could use fields near the homestead, as he could be near the stone and dance for it.
He dipped a wooden spoon into the trough and sipped rainwater, pure and clean. He peered through it to the clay bottom—he loved seeing things that couldn’t be seen, like air and water.
“Why do you practice so hard?” Elid said. “There’s nobody here but a couple of the sheep.”
“Molli likes my dancing,” Szeth said softly.
“Molli is blind,” Elid said. “She’s licking the dirt.”
“Molli likes to try new experiences,” he said, smiling and looking toward the old ewe.
“Whatever,” Elid said, flopping back on the grass to stare at the sky. “Wish there was more to do out here.”
“Dancing is something to do,” he said. “The flute is something to do. We must learn to add so that—”
She threw a dirt clod at him. He dodged easily, his feet light on the ground. He might be only eleven, but some in the village whispered he was the best dancer among them. He didn’t care about being the best. He only cared about doing it right. If he did it wrong, then he had to practice more.
Elid didn’t think that way. It bothered him how apathetic she had become about practicing as she grew older. She seemed like a different person these days.
Szeth tied his splash back on—a red handkerchief he wore around his neck—and did a quick count of the sheep.
Elid continued to stare at the sky. “Do you believe the stories they tell,” she eventually said, “of the lands on the other side of the mountains?”
“The lands of the stonewalkers? Why wouldn’t I?”
“They just sound so outlandish.”
“Elid, listen to yourself. Of course stories of outlanders sound outlandish.”
“Lands where everyone walks on stones though? What do they do? Hop from stone to stone, avoiding the soil?”
Szeth glanced at their family stone. It peeked up from the earth like a spren’s eyeball, staring unblinking at the sky, a vibrant red-orange. A splash for Roshar.
“I think,” he said to Elid, “that there must be a lot more rock out there. I think it’s hard to walk without stepping on stone. That’s why they get desensitized.”
“Where do the plants grow, then?” she asked. “Everyone always talks about how the outside is full of dangerous plants that eat people. There must be soil.”
True. Maybe the terrible vines he’d heard of stretched out long, like the tentacles you might find on a shamble, or one of the beasts that lived in the tidal pools a short distance down the coast.
“I heard,” Elid said, “that people constantly kill each other out there. That nobody adds, they only subtract.”
“Who makes the food then?” he said.
“They must eat each other. Or maybe they’re always starving? You know how the men on the ships are…”
He nervously looked toward the ocean—though it could be seen only on the sunniest days. Technically, his family was part of the farming town of Clearmount, which was at the very edge of a broad plain, excellent for grazing. This part of Shinovar wasn’t crowded; it was a day or two between towns. He heard that in the north there were towns everywhere.
The grassland bordered on the southeastern coast of Shinovar. Clearmount, and Szeth’s family homestead, was in an honored location near the monastery of the Stonewards, which was up along the mountain ridge. In Szeth’s estimation, this was the perfect place to live. You could see the mountains yet also visit the ocean. You could walk for days across the vibrant green prairie, never seeing another person. During the early months of the year they grazed the animals here, near their homestead. In the mid months they would take the sheep up the slopes, seeking the untouched and overgrown grass there.
He bent down next to old Molli, scratching at her ears as she rubbed her head against him. She might lick rocks and eat dirt, but she was always good for a hug. He loved her warmth, the scratchy wool on his cheek, the way she kept him company when the others wandered.
She bleated softly when he finished hugging her. Szeth wiped the salty, dried sweat from his head. Maybe he shouldn’t practice dancing so hard, but he knew he’d made a few missteps. Their father said that they were blessed as people who could add beneath the Farmer’s eyes. The perfect station. Not required to toil in the field, not forced to kill and subtract—allowed to tend the sheep and develop their talents.
Free time was the greatest blessing in the world. Maybe that was why the men of the oceans sought to kill them and steal their sheep. It must make them angry to see such a perfect place as this. Those terrible men, like any petulant child, destroyed what they could not have.
“Do you think,” Elid whispered, “that the servants of the monasteries will ever come out and fight for us? Use the swords during one of the raids?”
“Elid!” he said, standing. “The shamans would never subtract.”
“Mother says they practice with the Blades. I’d like to see that, hold one. Why practice, except to—”
“They will fight the Voidbringers when they arrive,” Szeth snapped. “That is the reason.” He glanced toward the ocean. “Don’t speak of the swords. If the outsiders realized the treasures of the monasteries…”
“Ha,” she said. “I’d like to see them try to raid a monastery. I saw an Honorbearer once. She could fly. She—”
“Don’t speak of it,” he said. “Not in the open.”
Elid rolled her eyes at him, still lying on the grass. What had she done with her flute? If Father had to make yet another… She hated when he brought that up, so he forced himself to stay quiet. He pulled away from Molli, and then looked down at the ground she’d been licking.
To find another rock.
Szeth recoiled, part shocked, part terrified. It was small, only a handspan wide. It peeked up from the earth, perhaps revealed by last night’s rain. Szeth put his fingers to his lips, backing away. Had he stepped on it while dancing? It was in the packed earth of the dancing ring.
What… what should he do? This was the first stone he’d ever seen emerge. The ones in other villages and fields—carefully marked off and properly revered—had been there for years.
“What’s up with you?” Elid said.
He simply gestured. She, perhaps sensing his level of concern, rose and walked over. As soon as she saw it, she gasped.
They shared a glance. “I’ll get Father,” Szeth said, and started running.
Welcome, Sanderfans and Cosmere Chickens, to another Wind and Truth read-along discussion. Last week we analyzed the events of chapters 21 and 22, wherein the Stormfather gave Dalinar a piece of his mind. This week, we check out what’s going on in chapters 23 and 24, which include… you guessed it… a Szeth flashback! Check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, to follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 23 is titled “Compromise” and we’re back with Shallan and her Lightweavers as they scope out the Ghostbloods’ hideout. Remember that they’re posing as crem scrapers, and once they feel enough time has passed, Shallan and Red move closer to the hideout and start setting up a pavilion. A Ghostblood guard approaches—but not the masked woman, as Shallan had hoped; he questions them, and they say they’ve been ordered to clear that intersection. The guard tells them to move so they start tearing down. Then Gaz arrives and pretends to be their supervisor and chews them out, so they set up the pavilion again. Shallan, sans Pattern and any Lightweaving, approaches the masked woman in front of the hideout. They tussle and Shallan tells her armor to form around the woman, thus immobilizing her.
They carry the masked woman back to the pavilion where Shallan takes her clothes and her mask before stationing herself in front of the hideout. Two Thaylen Ghostboods show up, the last to arrive, and Shallan slips into the hideout behind them.
With Shallan heading into enemy territory, we jump to Navani, waiting for Dalinar to finish chatting with the Stormfather. She puts on her queen hat… crown?… and meets with numerous people who have administrative issues for her to resolve. We get to see Sebarial again! Long time, buddy! He’s bummed out about not being able to skim more spheres from the crown. It’s good to see him and Palona.
Navani has a chat with the Sibling, asking for guidance about Dalinar’s thoughts of ascending to Honor. Amazingly, the Sibling says that someone needs to take up the power eventually. And now for the unsettling part:
The power can’t be left to its own devices. It will come awake.
Come awake? Like a spren? An (almost) all-seeing, (almost) all-knowing, powerful spren? Is that a cool idea or a terrifying one? I’m voting for terrifying. What about you, Sanderfans?
Navani then observes while Rushu demonstrates the works she’s been doing with flamespren. It’s actually quite an interesting scene and harkens back to that interlude in The Way of Kings where we saw a couple of scholars, Ashir and Geranid (Interlude 1-8, if you would like to go check it out!) studying flamespren. Well… Geranid was studying them, Ashir was cooking.
Rushu has been experimenting, finding ways of encouraging spren to help power fabrials instead of imprisoning them to do so—a compromise, if you will. The Sibling isn’t impressed at first, but then grudgingly admits that it’s better than imprisoning them.
As Navani leaves the meeting to go speak with Dalinar, the Sibling agrees to answer some questions from Rushu. And to Navani’s surprise, the first question is not about flamespren.
“Navani tells me,” Rushu said, “that you are neither male nor female.”
“It is true.”
“Could you tell me more about that?” Rushu asked.
“To a human, it must sound very strange.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” Rushu said quietly. “Not in the slightest. But talk, please. I want to know how it feels to be you.”
This is very interesting, and now we look at Rushu, and her seeming disinterest in the attentions of the male ardents around her, in a slightly different light. Go, Brandon—it’s great to see this kind of inclusion!
Chapter 24 is titled “In the Dancing Ring” and is a Szeth flashback! Yay! Finally! As you recall, our last Szeth and Kaladin chapter ended with Szeth about to reflect on his childhood, twenty-six years ago. So it appears that his flashbacks will be stories that he’s telling Kaladin. Which is super-duper cool, Sanderfans. Let’s talk about it!
He is but eleven years old and is not yet Szeth-son-son-Vallano but Szeth-son-Neturo. And he likes to dance while his sister plays the flute. Let’s take a moment to appreciate the poetry of this scene.
The music was his dance partner, wind made animate through sound. The flute was the voice of air itself.
Time became thick when he danced. Molasses minutes and syrup seconds.
Brandon’s writing is generally quite captivating, but here, it is poetic.
It turns out that he’s dancing around a rock that protrudes from the earth. “The largest in the region.” He’s dancing for the rock and when his frenzied dance finishes, his sister, Elid-daughter-Zeenid, who is three years his elder, chastises him for never relaxing. Well, isn’t she a gem?
We also see a bit of culture in the bright color that Elid wears:
She wore orange as her splash: the vivid piece of colorful clothing that marked them as people who added. One article per person, of whatever color they desired.
So it appears as if they dress in plain colors and wear a “splash” of a bright color to show that they “add” rather than “subtract.” We also learn that Szeth, and his family, are shepherds and that Molli, an old, blind ewe, apparently likes to hang out with Szeth rather than with the herd.
This will be important later.
::foreshadowing::
We also learn that Szeth’s family’s homestead is close to the ocean near the monastery of the Stonewards. It seems that sometimes men on ships come and raid along the coast. That sounds terrifying, considering the Shin, or at least the shepherds, seem to be pacifists.
::moreforeshadowing::
I know you just read the chapter, Sanderfans, and don’t need quotes of what you just read, but I need to highlight one more thing:
Their father said that they were blessed as people who could add beneath the Farmer’s eyes. The perfect station. Not required to toil in the field, not forced to kill and subtract—allowed to tend the sheep and develop their talents.
So raising sheep is adding and killing people is subtracting. Man, if young Szeth knew how much he’d be subtracting later in his life, he would be quite the unhappy child. ::sad face::
Seeing Szeth as a carefree child who hugs his blind old ewe (who apparently likes to lick the dirt) is touching, but bittersweet. What happens to this child who loves to dance to turn him into the Szeth we know? We’ll eventually find out, but for now, we’ll just enjoy who he was.
The Szeth sees what Molli the ewe is actually licking. It’s a rock. Small, only as wide as a hand, but it’s a rock. Szeth is shocked and afraid and even Elid, who seems unhappy with her quiet life, gasps upon seeing it. Szeth runs to get his father.
Lyndsey’s Commentary
Chapter 23 has two heralds in the arch: Palah (Paliah), patron of the Truthwatchers (attributes Learned/Giving and role of Scholar) and Shalash (Ash), Herald of Beauty, patron of the Lightweavers. Her attributes are Creative/Honest and her role is Artist. It seems to me that Palah is here for Navani and her ardents, in their attempts to work with fabrials and to get the situation in the Tower under control. Shalash could be here for Shallan and her efforts to infiltrate the Ghostbloods, especially since Shallan’s having to get quite creative to work around the security the Ghostbloods have in place.
Chapter 24, our first Szeth flashback chapter, has a very odd choice for its Herald in the chapter arch. All four spaces are occupied by Ishi (Ishar), Herald of Luck, patron of the Bondsmiths. His attributes are Pious/Guiding and his role is Priest. My best guess on this one is that he’s here because of his pious attribute, as we see both Szeth and his sister holding very true to their beliefs regarding the stone.
Would that men could always do the same—if I could enshrine one law in all further legal codes, it would be this. Let people leave if they wish.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
A very wise philosophy. Sometimes it’s best to simply walk away from something, rather than continuing to put yourself through the pain it causes.
Shallan
Shallan needed Radiant again for a moment while watching the struggling woman be strangled, her eyes bulging, her skin going a deep red around the mask.
Poor Shallan still has a gentle heart, despite all that she’s seen and been through. She can’t stand to watch someone be hurt, even someone who’s an enemy. That says quite a lot about her character.
Navani
They could handle it without her, but they didn’t know it. And . . . perhaps she needed to banish such thoughts. She was important to the administration of this tower, this kingdom. Vital even.
This is a good reminder that Rome wasn’t built in a day… and neither shall Navani’s self-confidence. After a lifetime of being discounted and put down by her previous husband (among others), it’s going to take a lot of time for her to come to terms with the fact that she’s worthy of the praise and admiration that’s shown to her by her people.
She kept turning and finding lifespren swirling around her, or gloryspren skulking by the ceiling, or any number of them darting around. It was like she was some storming heroine from a story, the silly type where a young and innocent girl always had a thousand lifespren or whatever bobbing around her.
Navani doesn’t realize that she is a heroine. I think it’s hard to see and accept that in yourself, no matter who you are. The idea that you’re important to others aside from those who are closest to you (and sometimes even them) can be a hard pill to swallow, for some. Especially for those who have suffered the kind of degradation Navani has.
“Pardon, Brightness. It’s your idea. Your genius.”
Navani prepared another complaint, then… then discarded it. Storms, maybe she was growing.
I’m so proud of her. Not only for growing, but for recognizing that she’s growing.
Sebarial
“I still pay for my household staff, vacations, and massages out of public funds, I’ll have you know. It’s a huge scandal.”
“I’m sure Brightness Navani knows what a miscreant you are, gemheart,” Palona said, patting his arm.
I’ve always adored Sebarial and the relationship he has with his mistress. He’s very endearing, with his constant protestations that he’s a worse person than he really is.
Sibling
So far, the Sibling only worked with them because Navani had essentially bullied them back into a bond. The more friends, or at least acquaintances, that the Sibling had, the better.
It’s hard to imagine the loneliness the Sibling has endured since the Tower was abandoned. I think it’s sometimes hard to imagine the intelligent spren having relationships outside of their chosen Radiants, since we’re so accustomed to seeing them talking to only them. But we’ve seen time and again that once the spren form a strong Bond with their Radiant, they do begin to reach out and make themselves visible/heard by others. Having one friend is nice… but more is better, and the spren are very much “real people” with emotions and personalities similar to the humans.
Szeth
I don’t know about all of you, but I’m so excited to finally be digging into Szeth’s backstory! He’s been one of the most intriguing characters to me for a long time (I can’t help it, I’m a sucker for a tortured antihero) so this first flashback chapter is heartily appreciated!
Szeth-son-Neturo found magic upon the wind, and so he danced with it.
Oh, my. I love that he liked to dance! This is a side of him I doubt any of us could have guessed. Dance is such a beautiful, calm and gentle thing… so very different from the dance of death he now engages in.
“Seriously, Szeth. Can’t you ever relax?”
Well, that at least sounds like the Szeth we know and love. Some aspects of personality never change, no matter what we go through.
He didn’t care about being the best. He only cared about doing it right. If he did it wrong, then he had to practice more.
So, a perfectionist, then. That does indeed sound as if it hasn’t changed much. He’s always been very rigid in his adherence to rules and strictures, and he got rather upset when Kaladin bested him in their ill-ending duel.
He bent down next to old Molli, scratching at her ears as she rubbed her head against him. She might lick rocks and eat dirt, but she was always good for a hug.
Oh jeez. This is too endearing. And therefore it immediately makes me terrified for poor Molli’s chances of making it out of these flashbacks alive. Maybe… maybe I’ll be wrong and she’ll be the Stormlight version of Bela from Wheel of Time…
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
There’s no doubt that Shallan’s chapters so far have been full of interesting and exciting lore discoveries and developments. We’re certainly gearing up for more of that as she maneuvers into place to infiltrate the Ghostbloods’ meeting… but I have to admit, Brandon is really stringing things along in these last few Shallan scenes. There isn’t a whole ton of magical excitement to be found reading about some roadwork in the rain.
At least Shallan has the mask on now, and the last members of the Ghostblood crew have arrived.
And speaking of masks, let’s talk about what they mean (on a couple different levels). I made mention last week that story crossovers are becoming more overt, more directly impactful, as we move into the post-The Lost Metal era of the Cosmere. This mask, stolen from a Ghostblood agent, is emblematic of that in a few ways.
Those who’ve read Mistborn Era 2 know what that mask is, and know about the Malwish culture it came from. Sure, we had Iyatil and her mask back in Words of Radiance, but that mask always stayed on—both physically and metaphorically. In fact, the biggest “unmasking” of Iyatil that has occurred so far didn’t even happen in a Stormlight Archive volume; for that, we have to look to the epilogue of The Lost Metal.
But Brandon is determined to keep pulling back the curtain, or steadily removing the mask, as it were. Now we have a more substantial Ghostblood contingent active on and across Roshar, including multiple Scadrian agents. The ties and conflicts between Roshar and Scadrial are growing, and it certainly seems to be pointing toward the possibility of a late-game Cosmere showdown between the two planets.
Where once these planets were operating in their own little echo chambers, with a select and secretive group of people aware of the greater context of the Cosmere, now the doors are getting blown off. It’s not just super-special people like the Heralds or Hoid, or secret agents like the Ghostbloods, who know about and are working to understand the greater handiwork of Adonalsium.
Shallan infiltrating this meeting has all the potential to be just the latest in a long line of revelations, and even as she plays a major role in The Stormlight Archive, she could easily be a pivotal player in setting up the conflicts to come over the next few decades of Cosmere novels.
It was too late now. She had walked confidently straight into the den. Now she either proved to be a predator herself, or she got eaten.
Whatever happens in the next chapter, we can be sure that there will be serious fallout to come down the road.
But if there’s one mask left, still fully hiding the face behind it, it is certainly Shinovar. We finally get the first of Szeth’s flashbacks, a whopping 24 chapters (not including interludes) into the story… and it’s full of implication, if not revelation.
Around and around, his dance worship for the rock at the center of the bare ground. Five feet across and three feet high—at least the part that emerged from the soil—it was the largest in the region.
Like the stone of Szeth’s homestead, peaking out from ground, we get the faintest taste of Shin culture, of Shin religion, of the secrets that lurk in Szeth’s past. There is so much more to come. What of the Unmade that plagues Shinovar, the dark presence that Szeth has been tasked with cleansing away? What of the Stone Shamans, and their use of the Honorblades? What of the stone itself? The Stone Itself?
We’re still only on Day Two, and all of Szeth’s past remains to be unmasked.
Fan Theories
AzraelAzari over on Reddit has a pretty interesting theory:
Am I the only one convinced Kaladin can’t be the one to take up Honor’s shard because he doesn’t have a relationship with Taravangian? I think it will either be Dalinar, where we will get a round two of their philosophical argument on the actions a King should take (but as gods) or it will be Szeth and it will play on the wording of the 5th ideal of the Skybreakers. Where you BECOME the law
Our weekly “Reddit comment that made Lyn laugh” award goes to EternityDisc with this gem:
Random observation but thank god Gavilar is dead because he would have hauled his ass to the Spiritual Realm so fast if he knew Honor’s shard was up for grabs
You’re not wrong, Eternity.
Daedrathell has a really fascinating theory that Nohadon and Tanavast switched places. It’s rather long, but you can read it in its entirety here.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 25 and 26![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 25: Purposeful Danger
The Almighty has given us the limbs to move and the minds to decide. Let no monarch take away what was divinely granted. The Heralds also taught that all should have the sacred right of freedom of movement, to escape a bad situation. Or simply to seek a brighter dawn.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Walking into that safehouse was like stepping into a memory: that of Shallan’s first meeting with Mraize. There, she’d entered the basement of a building that shouldn’t have had one. Here—after following Shade through the entryway—she headed down another set of stairs cut into the stone.
They were smooth and well-shaped, dark with lichen, with some crem buildup at the corners of the steps—indicating that water had occasionally seeped in during the many years this place was unoccupied. Using a diamond for light, Shade took them down, and Shallan wondered at the ancients who had crafted it. Why would you build downward, risking flooding?
The air was damp in here, though the stones weren’t wet, and she soon smelled incense. At the bottom of the stairs Shallan found the Alethi woman who had been sent to spy on Dalinar. The actor, an acolyte Ghostblood who had probably been teased with membership like Shallan.
The woman was studying Mraize’s trophies. Housed in a small room full of glass-fronted cases, each unlabeled artifact had its own shelf lit by a handful of chips. A silvery horn or claw from some great beast. A chunk of light red crystal, like pink salt—though of a deeper, more vibrant color. A violet stone egg, partly crystalline, with silver swirling around its shell. A fat, succulent leaf that pulsed red and seemed to radiate heat. A vial of pale sand she now recognized as having a very practical application.
Secrets, each stoking her hunger. She’d been strung along with the promise of a feast of answers, ideas, even dreams. Worlds full of people for her sketch collection. Shade let the newcomers linger to look at the trophies, but Shallan feigned indifference, leaning against the wall and glancing through the eyeholes in the mask toward the glass case beside her.
There, in the reflection on the glass, she glimpsed a shadowy figure with white holes for eyes. Sja-anat, one of the Unmade, was here. She studied Shallan in turn, existing in this realm only as a reflection, then smiled in a knowing way and vanished.
Storms. Did she know who Shallan really was? There wasn’t time to wonder, as Shade waved the two newly arrived Ghostbloods into the next room. Shallan risked following—though Shade remained behind with the actor—and closed the door after them.
The room beyond turned out to be large, bigger than the building above, though the ceiling was relatively low. It was entirely stone, with little furniture, and her door was in the northeast corner. The southern wall—to Shallan’s left, maybe forty feet away—was stacked with bales of hay, targets on each one. Maybe twenty feet ahead of her, seven people clustered around a lone podium. They chatted softly, and Shallan’s breath caught as she saw Mraize with the group, fiddling with some contraption.
His very silhouette still intimidated her. He had a lean strength that never quite matched his fine clothing—which today was a coat, shirt, and trousers, with a ruffled portion of his shirt bursting out below the neck. Bright red, like blood from a slit throat.
Remember your breathing, Veil whispered. Keep it up, kid.
Shallan nodded absently and did her breathing exercises, calming her emotions. Half of the act of an imitation like this was about emotions, and not drawing the wrong spren. She could do this. No need for anxiety.
Mraize barely glanced over as the two newcomers joined six others. Shallan hung back, breathing calmingly and scanning the room, the mask sitting strangely on her face and blocking some of her field of vision. Where was Iyatil?
There. She saw the woman watching the group from beside the north wall, giving her a full view of the room. Short and masked, Iyatil crouched on the stone ground. Others, particularly those from Alethi culture, might have mistaken her for a guard, but she was the master, and Mraize her second.
Storms. Where Mraize was an overt, blatant kind of dangerous—always holding some sort of weapon, talking about hunting and death—Iyatil was the quiet kind. The kind that watched from the shadows, ruminating on the sounds you’d make when stabbed.
Shallan stepped forward, because standing in the doorway would draw attention. She forced herself to adopt the proper gait, and found her counterpart—the third masked offworlder—watching from all the way across the room by the west wall. He prowled forward, passing a stand of burning incense, and approached the two newcomers where—Shallan could barely hear—he offered them a drink.
The guard slunk to a bar set up against the east wall near Shallan and started mixing the drinks. This was a trained assassin—and Mraize was having him… mix drinks? Was this a way of intimidating the others?
No. No, the Ghostbloods were relaxed. They just needed drinks, and the assassin was the one available to get them.
“Ah,” Mraize said as the large contraption in his hands clicked. “There.” He hefted it and placed a small, heavy arrow into it. The device was a kind of crossbow, though larger and bulkier than the ones Shallan had seen.
Intrigued, Shallan stepped closer. Then she checked Iyatil and the other masked offworlder. They were watching not the device but the people. Right; Shallan tried to do the same, moving along the north wall, behind the group of people, who faced the targets.
“Mraize!” said Aika, the Thaylen trader in a skirt and vest. “You said this meeting was urgent; why are you playing with a new toy while we have drinks?”
“Had to wait for stragglers, Stolen Purse,” he said, with a smile. “And a good drink, well studied, is an excellent start to any difficult conversation.”
“Feels strange,” said the other Thaylen, “to have so many of us together. How long has it been?”
“Since the briefing on the Everstorm,” said the man wearing the patterned regalia of an Azish vizier. “The year before it arrived. Honestly, I’ve missed you all. Mraize, we have Oathgates now. We should meet more often.”
“Meeting is dangerous,” Mraize noted, raising the crossbow to sight at one of the targets.
“Mraize, love,” said a woman, Veden like Shallan by her accent, “you enjoy danger, don’t you?” Shallan took a Memory of her; aside from the vizier she was the only one of the group not in Hoid’s stack of drawings.
“I enjoy purposeful danger, Icy Tongue,” Mraize said—Shallan knew he had a nickname for everyone. Not a code name, just a quirk of his. “Danger with value and lessons. Foolhardy danger, without purpose, is a waste. A whorehouse for the emotions.”
He triggered the crossbow, which shot the larger-than-average bolt into one of the hay bales.
“You missed the center, Mraize,” one of the others said.
“Hence the practice,” Mraize said, reloading the device.
As the assassin delivered drinks, Shallan worried what she was expected to do. Hopefully not fetch drinks. If she had to ask someone their preference, she didn’t like her chances of imitating Iyatil’s accent, which she’d heard only a few times.
Best for her to avoid saying anything. She prowled along the wall, smoke from one incense burner wafting in her wake.
Iyatil glanced at her.
Panic erupted in Shallan’s chest, like daggers suddenly slid between her ribs.
Calm, Veil reminded.
She did her best, maintaining her poise, and picked a spot, then squatted, mimicking Iyatil’s posture. Moving had drawn attention, so she determined to stay still. Blessedly, that seemed the right move. Iyatil’s attention immediately returned to the group, and the other assassin settled back against the west wall and watched with folded arms.
“Is this device the reason we’re all here, risking discovery, Mraize?” Icy Tongue asked, sipping her drink.
“No,” he said, raising the weapon once more. “This is merely a diversion.” He released and hit the target, though not at the center. “Any of you ever used one of these?”
“Crossbow,” the Azish man said. “Common guardsman weapon.”
“No,” Icy Tongue said. “That’s a Thaylen hand ballista. Heavier than a normal crossbow, intended to deliver a payload.”
“Exactly,” Mraize said, nodding to her. “They were developed to carry oil or a flaming brand to set fire to enemy sails. Never been terribly effective, unfortunately, but they’re enjoyed by some enthusiasts. My father had a few when I was young.” He held up the device, studying it. “A modern weapon, relying on mechanical strength rather than strength of arm.”
“It’s obviously difficult to aim,” one of the others said. “I have trouble seeing why you’re so interested in it.”
Mraize casually loaded another bolt. Shallan studied him from where she crouched. His actions always had a purpose. What was the lesson here?
Storms, even when he wasn’t watching her, she felt intimidated by him. Worse, she felt an icy chill at the nape of her neck and—despite trying not to—glanced at Iyatil. Who had been looking in her direction.
Shallan glanced away immediately, breathing as calmly as she could. An anxietyspren appeared anyway, a twisting black cross. Did Iyatil suspect? The spren wasn’t an immediate tell, as one could come because you were worried about basically anything, but…
Storms. Storms, storms, storms. These were experts in the very arts that Shallan, as Veil, had pretended to know. Sweat ran down her face, and the mask suddenly felt heavy and suffocating. Her breath kept getting caught, the heat of it puffing around her cheeks and leaving her skin damp. She wanted to rip the mask free.
Did you notice, Veil said, that he left his trouser leg tucked into his sock?
Shallan glanced again at Mraize, and it was true. In dressing, he’d let his right sock catch the back of his trouser leg. In the face of her panic, it was an almost comical detail.
Veil chuckled. He’s just a person, Shallan. They all are. How does Mraize try to control you?
“Through intimidation,” she whispered. “Intimidation, secrets, and an air of mystery.”
And if you refuse to give him any of those benefits?
Then…
Just a person. Iyatil too. People, and highly confident ones, who could make mistakes. They wouldn’t expect Shallan to be here—would never assume her capable of taking the face of one of their best.
Even the most skilled swordswoman, Radiant said, can lose a duel. They might be good, but if they suspected you, they’d have done something by now. You’re doing it.
You’re doing it, Veil said. I mean, look how silly he is.
He really wasn’t—it was a small mistake, one people commonly made. And she was in over her head, she knew. But this had to be done, and that little mistake Mraize had made, it was a sign that he was flawed.
Shallan chuckled softly, and the anxietyspren vanished away.
“Did you know,” Mraize said to the others, “that on some worlds the crossbow became the default weapon for an entire era of warfare? While the weapon is generally slower to reload, it requires less training to use than a bow. With the right design it can pierce steel, so instead of the archer who practices all their life, or the regal lighteyes in plate armor, such battlefields are ruled by the farmers with two months’ training and a technological advantage.”
“Until a Shardbearer marches through their ranks and lays waste to the whole lot,” said the man in the Alethi uniform. “You know Aladar tried crossbowman ranks once? Sure, they’re powerful—but slow. Best used with a full pike block for support. And if there’s one man in Plate on the other side, those crossbowmen draw him like rain draws vines.”
“Interesting words, Chain,” Mraize said, sighting with his hand ballista and loosing again. “Words spoken with the wisdom of the past—excellent at teaching us to deal with the world as it has existed. And only as it has existed.”
He looked to Iyatil, who gestured for him to continue. He set the ballista down and opened the front of the podium. A glowing sphere spren floated out—much like the seon that Shallan had discovered in her communication box.
It changed shape, becoming an older man’s face, with mustaches. Wait… did she recognize him?
“Tell them,” Mraize commanded.
“We’ve found Restares,” said the floating, glowing head. “He told us, and Shallan, the details. Mishram’s prison is hidden in the Spiritual Realm.”
Storms. That was Felt. One of Adolin’s soldiers.
Coldness enveloped Shallan, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of disconnect. Felt was a spy.
Felt was a Ghostblood.
It was good no one was currently looking at her, because she couldn’t keep the small shockspren away. All that time she’d spent trying to find the spy—an entire trip through Shadesmar—only to decide she was herself the spy. While Mraize had sent a backup. Of course he had. Storms… she felt suddenly violated, knowing Felt had been watching all along.
“That’s the important bit,” Felt continued. “Ala has been chatting with Restares, who has all kinds of things to say once you press him. Ala’s pretty fed up with him, since little of it seems relevant, but I’m taking notes anyway.”
Ala? The seon?
Wait…
“Thank you,” Mraize said. “Ala and you have done well. You will be compensated.”
Ala was a Ghostblood too? It certainly sounded that way. On one hand, Shallan’s sense of betrayal deepened—but on the other, she was relieved. The spren had put up quite an act of being a frightened prisoner, but if that wasn’t the case, then maybe Shallan didn’t have to feel so bad for her.
“I don’t want your rusting coin, Mraize,” Felt said. “I never wanted any part of any of this. Though Ala specifically asked me to tell you she wants a pony. I… I think she might be joking?”
Mraize smiled. “Keep the Herald captive. Further instructions will come.” He made a gesture, and the face faded back to a glowing sphere, which hid in the podium again.
“The prison is in the Spiritual Realm?” one of the group said. “So it’s impossible to reach.”
“Hardly,” Mraize said. “Iyatil and I received intel from a very special contact yesterday, indicating that if we watched Dalinar we would have a chance to enter the Spiritual Realm. We thought we might need our newest recruit to nudge him into it, but that wasn’t necessary. Dalinar met with Cultivation herself, who urged him to seek Honor’s power. He will be stepping into the Spiritual Realm soon, and Iyatil and I will follow. Until we return, Zora, this cell is yours. You will take the seon and report directly to Master Thaidakar.”
The Azish vizier nodded.
The Thaylen woman he’d called Stolen Purse folded her arms. “You’ve never specifically left someone else in charge before.”
“This is true,” Mraize said, calmly reloading his hand ballista.
“So… you think this is dangerous?” the woman continued.
“I know it is,” Mraize said. “We might not return. Or if we do, hundreds of years could have passed here. But we will find Mishram’s prison.”
“Wait,” said Icy Tongue. “Mraize, how does this help Master Thaidakar’s plans?”
Mraize didn’t reply, instead sighting his target and loosing. He finally hit the red center circle.
“We should be working on our plan,” Icy Tongue said, “to transport Stormlight offworld, now that we know it can be blanked of Identity and transferred between realms. How does chasing down some ancient spren further Master Thaidakar’s orders to provide him a renewable source of Investiture?”
Shallan leaned forward. She’d already known that the Ghostbloods wanted the power of the Radiants and the versatility of Stormlight. That explained a great deal—such as, for example, recruiting Shallan. But there was more. Why was he so interested in Mishram? She reached into her sleeve, fingering the spanreed she’d hidden in there, strapped to her arm. She sent three quick flashes—a warning to the others to be ready, but not to come quite yet. She was close.
Mraize didn’t answer. He readied his weapon for another shot—though he selected a bolt with a gemstone affixed to it, near the head. What had they said? That these hand ballistas were designed to deliver a larger-than-normal payload?
Oh, storms. A gemstone by itself was meaningless. But if he managed to get hold of the anti-Stormlight that Navani had developed in Shallan’s absence…
He launched the bolt, and hit the target straight on.
The wisdom of the past is excellent at teaching us to deal with the world as it has existed. And only as it has existed.
Mraize wasn’t showing affection for an old, obsolete piece of technology. He was practicing with a weapon that, suddenly, could be used to kill Radiants—and their spren.
“Once in the Spiritual Realm,” Mraize said, “Iyatil and I will watch Dalinar. If we stay close to him, most likely he will lead us to the prison.”
“How can you know that?” Icy Tongue asked.
“Because I do,” he said. “Master Thaidakar has approved this course—and you eight will lead in our absence. That is all you need know.”
“Pardon,” said Icy Tongue, “but we’re Ghostbloods. No secrets, Mraize. Those are the rules.”
“Master Thaidakar’s actions,” Mraize said, “prove he does not believe in this rule. Sometimes information is dangerous, and must be kept sheathed like a fine blade.”
Shallan leaned forward farther, but then caught something from the corner of her eye. Iyatil was in motion. The short woman crossed the room and stooped beside Shallan, where she whispered something.
In a language that Shallan did not recognize.
* * *
Dalinar sat with Navani in the garden chamber, both of them in chairs at the center, facing one another. He held her hands, vines moving around them without wind or touch. Navani said they were dancing to rhythms Dalinar couldn’t hear.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, Dalinar,” she said, squeezing his hands. “What happens if this works? Will I lose you?”
“If I were to Ascend to Honor,” Dalinar said, “I don’t think you’d lose me. Cultivation spoke to me earlier, and according to Ash, Honor often interacted with the Heralds.”
“I don’t mean losing your presence,” she said. “I mean losing you—your love, your humanity. I don’t want to be selfish, and we will do what the world needs. But I have to ask. What will it mean, Dalinar? And does it have to be you?”
He didn’t know the answer to either question. They both leaned forward, him resting his forehead on hers. Contemplating. Deciding. Fearspren wiggled out of the stones around his feet.
“All this time,” he whispered, “I’ve been trying to become a better person, Navani. Through the course of it, I’ve discovered terrifying truths, and I’ve shared them with the world. That our god died millennia ago, that humankind stole this world from those who owned it. Answers that once were easy now prove difficult.
“I am scared of this step, but I want to provide answers again regardless. I feel that something has been guiding me all this time. Something I can’t explain, something beyond Honor. I know someone has to step up and do this. The contest isn’t enough. There’s more, and I think I’m the only one who can find out what it is. I spent a great deal of time searching for how to become a stronger Bondsmith, and I think that was a step toward a greater truth of what I actually need to become.”
She gripped his hands, and he loved her for the way she gave his words some thought, and didn’t contradict him immediately. But also for the way she didn’t immediately agree.
Wit finally returned, slipping in. Dalinar and Navani pulled back from each other, and he could see the concern in her eyes.
“Love,” he said, “we don’t know if this will work. We don’t have to make all the decisions now.”
“Sometimes,” she said, “it’s good to ask the questions long before you need the answers. I can’t help thinking that we’re dabbling in things well beyond our capacity, Dalinar. The powers of gods? Several of my scholars inadvertently detonated themselves just last month, working on anti-Light. Now you’re contemplating going somewhere that frightens even Wit.”
“To be fair,” Wit said, leaning against the wall near the door, “a great number of things terrify me. I mean, have you considered—really considered—how insane it is that society entrusts you mortals with children? After… what, two decades of life, half of it spent in diapers?”
“Wit,” Navani said, “people don’t spend ten years in diapers.”
“See?” Wit said. “I’m roughly ten thousand years old, and I barely feel comfortable with my knowledge of how to care for an infant. It’s a wonder any of you make it to adolescence…”
“Focus, Wit,” Dalinar said. “The plan. The Spiritual Realm.”
“We’re out of our depth,” Navani said. “Like an army struggling against an enemy with far more modern equipment.”
“Or a scholar trying to read complex ideas in a language she has barely studied,” Dalinar added. “But we have only eight days before I need to face Odium, and I’m certain the Stormfather is hiding things from me.”
“The Sibling agrees,” Navani said. “They keep pointing out the Stormfather’s inaccuracies and our incorrect understanding of historical events.”
“The goal,” Wit said, “is for you to relive those events. So you can find out the truth of Honor’s death, and uncover secrets even I don’t know.” He frowned. “I don’t know why the Stormfather would lie though.”
“I don’t think… he ever expected anyone to be able to contradict him,” Dalinar said. “He never thought the Sibling would reawaken.” He met Navani’s eyes. “So long as the Heralds are mad and Wit is useless—”
“Hey!”
“—the Stormfather could provide the sole narrative. We have to find the truth, Navani. We have to know what happened to Honor.”
“Which brings us back to the central question,” Navani said softly. “What does it mean to replace him?”
“Dalinar would Ascend,” Wit said. “His mind would expand to see with the eyes of deity. The Shards are not omniscient—it is relatively easy to hide things from them. But they are… blessed with a near-infinite capacity to understand. To see into the future, in its many permutations, and to comprehend what that means.”
“It sounds like,” Navani said, “you’d no longer be human.”
“It sounds like,” Dalinar said, “a version of what has already happened to you, with your bond to the tower. We’re working through that. We could work through this.”
She nodded hesitantly. “But I ask again: Do you have to do it, Dalinar? Why must it always be you?”
From Jasnah or Adolin, perhaps those words would have been a challenge. A question why he always put himself in the center of the issue. He found such questions ridiculous—who else could he trust with a problem of such magnitude? Someone needed to walk the difficult roads, and—as ruler—it was his duty. That was what The Way of Kings taught.
From Navani, it wasn’t a challenge but a plea. If someone was called to sacrifice, couldn’t he pass the burden just this once?
“I can’t trust this to anyone else,” Dalinar said. “You learn, as a general, when to send your best lieutenant—and when to go yourself.” He squeezed her hands. “Navani, if I lose the contest of champions… we lose me. I will be Odium’s, and he will bring out the Blackthorn. Whatever we can do to prevent that, I want to try, even if it means this Ascension, as Wit calls it. If, after the contest, the power is changing me too much, I will find another and give it to them.”
“Is that allowed?” she asked, glancing to Wit.
“Technically, yes,” he said. “But it is extremely difficult to do. Once you are a god, Dalinar, it is nearly impossible to let go.”
“Surely it has been done,” Dalinar said.
Wit grew distant, a faint smile on his lips. “Once. It wasn’t a full Ascension, but a mortal did give up the power once. It proved to be the wrong choice, but it was the most selfless thing I believe I’ve ever witnessed. So yes, Dalinar, it is possible. But not easy.”
“Nothing ever is,” he said. “Not for us.”
Navani looked back at him, then nodded. “Very well. Let’s do it then. Together.”
“… Together?”
“I’m not going to let you go into the realm of the gods alone,” she said. “You’ll need a scholar to help interpret what you see in the past.”
Damnation. She was right. They had gone into visions together before; it was possible. But if it was going to be as dangerous as Wit implied…
No. From her expression, he knew that if he suggested taking another scholar instead of her, he would bring down a wrath to make the Stormfather look like a spring squall. And justly so. For all the same arguments he’d made to himself about doing this personally, he needed the best at his side. That was Navani.
“You are wise,” he said. “I hate it, but you are right. We’ll try this together. But we’ll need to prepare the others to lead Urithiru while we are gone. Wit thinks it will take us days to accomplish this.”
“I can keep an eye on things here,” Wit said. “First, we’ll have you peek into the Spiritual Realm and see if this even works. If you leave your bodies behind, as I’m hoping, I should be able to bring you back out if you’re needed.”
“Excellent,” Navani said. “How do we proceed?”
“Well,” Wit said, “you once had to use a highstorm and the Stormfather’s powers—but you’re Bondsmiths now. You can open a perpendicularity and push into the Spiritual Realm. Once there, I suggest using Connection to guide you into a specific slice of the past. I’ll help you with that. You can peek into an event I’ve witnessed, experience it, and return so we can compare notes. If that works, we can send you on a longer journey, into times I wasn’t here to witness.”
Dalinar and Navani met each other’s eyes and nodded.
“Great,” Wit said. “Let’s head down the elevator and find a good location to try the experiment.”
“Why not here?” Dalinar asked.
“You are about to pierce through the three realms and try to throw yourselves into the Spiritual Realm,” Wit said. “If you get it wrong, you’ll end up in Shadesmar—but with the force you’re using, you could as easily cast yourselves beyond the tower. Personally, I’d feel more comfortable if we were somewhere lower, so you had less distance to fall if things go awry.”
“Very well,” Dalinar said, standing. “Let’s tell Aladar and Sebarial what we’re planning, just in case, then find somewhere lower down for the experiment.”
Chapter 26: Hunting the Hunter
I continued on my way, contemplating dust and the nature of desertion. For I, as king, had walked away from my duties, and it was different for me. Had I not renounced a throne the Almighty had granted, and in so doing, undermined my very own words? Was I abandoning that which was divinely given me?
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Shallan stared at Iyatil. The woman’s eyes seemed distant behind that mask, and strangely human—as if the mask were some beast that had swallowed a person.
Iyatil repeated her comment in, presumably, their native tongue. In a panic, Shallan reached for the spanreed in her sleeve, ready to call the others. Only… she hadn’t actually learned anything yet. How were the Ghostbloods going to sneak through to the Spiritual Realm with Dalinar? Why were they so interested in one of the Unmade? They’d already made contact with Sja-anat. Wasn’t that enough?
There was no helping it. If Iyatil hadn’t been suspicious before, she would be when she got no reply. Shallan gripped the spanreed.
But Veil whispered: You can do this, Shallan. Try.
Shallan couldn’t understand what Iyatil had said, but what was her body language saying? Iyatil nodded to the side, toward the third masked offworlder. Her words had been short and terse, maybe a question, more likely an order. So, risking it, Shallan gave a curt nod.
That worked, and Iyatil scurried back toward the doorway in the eastern wall, Shallan following. The third assassin met them, and they huddled together, with Iyatil speaking quickly in their own language. In the center of the room, Mraize hinted to the others what Shallan had guessed: that with some minor tweaks, the hand ballista would be very useful in coming years.
Shallan couldn’t pay attention to him, for she had now gotten herself into a conversation with not merely one person speaking another tongue, but two. They’d expect a response other than a nod. She had to escape the conversation without making a scene.
Find an excuse, Veil whispered, for not paying attention.
Yes… distractibility was a universal human foible. Unfortunately there wasn’t much in the room. Just the targets, Mraize and his crew, four bleak stone walls…
Wait. The doorknob. Silvery, polished, reflective. Being crouched down together as they were put it near eye level. Shallan fixated on it, waiting until the others noticed her distraction.
“Aleen?” Iyatil said to Shallan. “Aleen, vat ist erest missen?”
Shallan pointed at the doorknob and spoke, whispering a word that would be the same regardless of language. “Sja-anat.” The whisper hopefully masked her voice.
Iyatil hissed softly, pushing Shallan aside to look closely at the doorknob. When she saw nothing, she grunted, and—ignoring their conversation—stalked toward Mraize. The other foreigner glanced at Shallan, so she shrugged, then leaned in to study the doorknob. He moved off after Iyatil.
Shallan calmed her nerves, avoiding drawing a spren this time. Iyatil had taken the bait, and hadn’t seemed to find anything too irregular about Shallan. Unless she was telling Mraize she was an impostor right now. Maybe it was time to call the others. Shallan reached again for her spanreed, but a moment later a shadow moved across the doorknob, and then Sja-anat appeared as she had earlier: a jet-black female figure with white holes for eyes.
I wondered, she said in Shallan’s mind, how you would manage without speaking her tongue, Shallan. That was clever.
“So you do know it’s me,” Shallan whispered.
It is difficult for mortals to distinguish one soul’s flame from another, but I am not mortal.
“Are you going to reveal me?”
As you just revealed me? Perhaps.
“Whose side are you on, Sja-anat?” Shallan whispered. “Truly. What is your game?”
Game, Shallan? I fight for survival. Odium will rip through anyone, anything, to get what he wishes. Thousands of years have proven he cares nothing for me or my children. Honor is a coward who always hated us. Destroyed us. Betrayed us. And all Cultivation does is watch.
I am on the side of preserving a world for my children. You should not fear “my side,” Shallan. You should embrace it. If there is room for my children, there will be room for yours.
Iyatil returned, Mraize tailing her. Again Shallan gripped the spanreed but held her nerve. Sja-anat did not hide, but persisted—small, but distinguishable, as a reflection in the doorknob, looking up at Iyatil.
“Lieke, stay here,” Iyatil said in Alethi. “Entertain the others.” She opened the door, grabbing the doorknob despite the reflection there. Mraize followed, as did Shallan, assuming that Lieke was the other masked figure.
Shade and the actor were gone from this little alcove. It was darker in here, where the sole light was provided by chips—painted on one side, to shine only on Mraize’s treasures.
“There,” Iyatil said. “My trophy case. I see her reflection.”
Wait… her trophy case? It wasn’t Mraize’s?
Iyatil pulled a mirror out on wheels from behind one of the cabinets. Shallan closed the door to the other room softly, then stayed back, trying not to draw attention.
Sja-anat appeared in the mirror, all slender smoke and magnetic eyes.
“Why are you here?” Iyatil demanded. “You’re supposed to be watching the Bondsmiths. Have they begun the process?”
“My children watch,” Sja-anat said, her voice tinny and small, as if she were communicating down the length of a long hallway. “The Sibling is awake. They are not easy to fool, even for me. I myself would draw attention.”
“This isn’t what you told us,” Iyatil said. “The timing will be tight. We need to get into Shadesmar and be ready to enter Dalinar’s perpendicularity as soon as it opens.”
“You will not miss your opportunity,” Sja-anat said. “Though I question your eagerness to be lost in that place.”
“You said our spren could guide us,” Mraize said, stepping closer to the mirror. “You said they understood that realm.”
Our spren?
Our spren?
Shallan backed up a pace, pressing against the cold stone wall. Mraize and Iyatil had spren? They were Radiant?
That’s why they were so eager to meet Sja-anat! Veil said. Sja-anat’s requirements for those who bonded her children were different from those of ordinary Radiants.
Storms. Shallan had been key to facilitating Sja-anat meeting with the Ghostbloods. She’d known all along that her flirtatious half-commitment to the Ghostbloods was dangerous. Here was proof. Why had she let it go on for so long?
You were confused, Radiant said, far from home, and you thought Jasnah was dead. You needed to feel a part of something. Do not be too hard on yourself.
Shallan had made many mistakes, yes, but she hoped she was learning from them. Today she stepped forward, closer to Iyatil and Mraize, hoping to catch signs of their spren—to tell what orders they had joined. Or… if they had bonded Sja-anat’s children, were they actually Radiants? Renarin was, but he’d chosen to take the title for himself.
In her shock, she’d missed some of what Sja-anat was saying. Assurances that her children could offer guidance in the Spiritual Realm. “There is only so much that can be done for mortals,” the Unmade continued. “Like a fish suddenly on the land, you will be in a place that is hostile to your existence. My children will guide you, but you still may not return.”
“We will go regardless,” Mraize said softly.
“And I am glad,” Sja-anat said. “One last warning, however. I do not think you will find an ally in my sister. Mishram is not… fond of humans.”
“We are not seeking an ally,” Iyatil said. “Tell us when Dalinar starts getting ready, so we may prepare.”
“As you wish,” Sja-anat said. “My children say he is talking to his advisors. He is close though.”
“What of Shallan?” Mraize asked. “Does she hunt us?”
“She does,” Sja-anat said. And did not look toward Shallan standing behind them.
Shallan didn’t spot a spren on Mraize’s clothing or shoulder, but she did note the quiver of crossbow bolts at his side. Specifically, one had a gemstone affixed with white-blue light that warped the air around it. Shallan hadn’t seen the anti-Light, but Wit had told her about it, and she recognized it from the description.
Mraize, as ever, had worked quickly and efficiently. So far as Shallan knew, there was barely a tiny bit of the stuff in Urithiru, carefully locked away. Yet Mraize had already stolen some. She couldn’t help but be impressed.
“I’m worried Shallan will interfere,” he said.
“The girl is distracted,” Iyatil said. “You fixate upon her too much, acolyte. We made the proper threats; her attention will be on protecting and watching her loved ones.”
Iyatil waved Mraize off, and he bowed to her. It felt strange to see him defer; he had always seemed so in command. Though there was a level of self-control to his obedience. Mraize did not complain or seem upset to be dismissed. He walked with his head held high, opening the door to reveal the Ghostbloods practicing with his oversized crossbow.
Sja-anat vanished, and Shallan followed Mraize, trying not to be trapped with Iyatil. Unfortunately, the woman put her hand up to stop Shallan.
“Something is wrong with him,” Iyatil said softly. “I do not think he has been replaced with a duplicate, but I do question his loyalty to our cause.”
Thankfully, the words were in Alethi. Perhaps because she’d just been speaking to Sja-anat in that tongue, and continued on momentum. Perhaps it was because in this room, away from the others, she didn’t worry about being overheard. Or perhaps with Sja-anat around… she wanted to be?
Iyatil still focused on Mraize, thoughtful. “I’ve spent so long training him. It is natural for him to want his own acolytes. But he thinks solely of his own advancement, and not the greater purpose.”
Shallan needed to push. She needed answers. She found herself speaking in a whisper. “Thaidakar’s purpose.”
“Master Thaidakar will see eventually,” Iyatil said. “He is smarter than you give him credit for. He works to protect his homeland above all else, but once we find Mishram for my purposes, he will see. Master Thaidakar can only protect his land if the Shards can be controlled. Will this fit your plans as well?”
Stay silent? Or speak? Which was more suspicious?
Iyatil looked at her, waiting. Shallan sweated, and tried giving a nod again.
“That’s it?” Iyatil said. “You’ve been so…”
She focused on Shallan, eyes widening behind her mask. Shockspren exploded around her. Damnation. That was it.
Iyatil lunged, and Shallan caught the hand, expecting a knife—but Iyatil wasn’t attacking. She was reaching for Shallan’s hood, and in her deflection Shallan knocked it aside, revealing her wig.
Iyatil hissed, then shouted, scrambling backward, “Radiants! We are discovered!”
Happy Monday to our loyal readers, our cherished Sanderfans and Cosmere Chickens! And welcome to another Wind and Truth read-along discussion. Last week we discussed the events of chapters 23 and 24, where a disguised Shallan managed to gain entry into the secret lair of the Ghostbloods, and young Szeth danced in our first flashback! This week, we’re here to discuss what’s going on with Shallan and Dalinar in chapters 25 and 26. Check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, to follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 25 is titled “Purposeful Danger” and opens with Shallan descending into the depths of Narak to a large underground room filled with Ghostbloods. Oh, it’s real now! The Thaylens she admitted to the hideout while masquerading as a guard stop to admire several of Mraize’s prizes that he’s collected from various worlds. Shallan turns to find Sja-anat looking at her, reflected in the glass of another display case. Sja-anat smiles at her and then vanishes. Rather unsettling, isn’t it? Considering that we know little about Sja-anat’s plans or endgame. What is she doing there? Working for the Ghostbloods or spying, as Shallan herself is? It’s interesting to think about.
Shallan skulks around the edges of the group, scoping out the room and noting both people she had known were in the society and those who were new to her. She sees Iyatil crouched, surveying the room, and when she attracts the woman’s gaze, Shallan crouches as well, mimicking her posture, hoping to avoid Iyatil’s attention.
Mraize plays with some kind of contraption that shoots large, heavy-looking arrowheads, and another Ghostblood mentions that it’s a Thaylen weapon, intended to deliver a payload. Shallan sees Mraize with a bolt with a gemstone on it and she realizes that with anti-Stormlight, it could be used to kill a spren or a Radiant.
Mraize also pulls out his seon, which takes on the likeness of Felt, who tells those assembled that Mishram’s prison is in the Spiritual Realm. Shallan can’t stop the shockspren from manifesting around her. She realizes that Felt and the seon, Ala, had been Ghostblood spies all along.
Mraize announces that Cultivation has visited Dalinar, who will go to the Spiritual Realm and that he, Mraize, will follow him, along with Iyatil. Then Iyatil herself crosses the room, approaching Shallan; she bends down and speaks to her in a language that Shallan doesn’t know.
We jump to Dalinar, of course, because we must be left in suspense, worrying that Shallan may have been discovered by Iyatil after just a few minutes!
Dalinar is speaking with Navani in the garden room and she asks him if she’ll lose him if he ascends to Honor, which is quite a heartbreaking possibility to contemplate. After how many years of a loveless marriage to Gavilar, and all the years of being alone after he died, she finally gets together with Dalinar only to lose him again? Hasn’t Navani been through enough? Hasn’t she sacrificed enough? Does she have to give up Dalinar, as well? ::Paige has sad feels:: Navani asks why it has to be him that does this and, of course, Dalinar thinks that he’s the only one who can do it. He feels that something has been guiding him and that the contest may not be the most important thing right now.
Wit pops in and offers his thoughts. He thinks that Dalinar needs to see—to relive—the history of Roshar since the humans arrived, which will allow Dalinar access to truths and revelations that even Wit doesn’t know. And bloody hell, but Wit knows a lot—to think about the secrets that even he doesn’t know about is kind of mind-boggling. Wit also mentions that he doesn’t know why the Stormfather would lie. I thought that was unsettling back in the prologue when he lied to Gavilar; it’s still concerning to know that he’s lied to Dalinar.
Navani again wonders what would happen were Dalinar to take up the shard, and Wit chimes in:
“Dalinar would Ascend,” Wit said. “His mind would expand to see with the eyes of deity. The Shards are not omniscient—it is relatively easy to hide things from them. But they are . . . blessed with a near-infinite capacity to understand. To see into the future, in its many permutations, and to comprehend what that means.”
We saw Taravangian’s ascension, and frankly, it was alarming. Of course, the pruned Blackthorn isn’t as scary as Taravangian was—smart Taravangian, at least. So perhaps Dalinar ascending wouldn’t be as frightening? Perhaps. What do you all think, Sanderfans? What unexpected realizations might Dalinar have if he takes up the shard of Honor? Will he also think he has a plan to save everyone and fix everything? Or might he really be able to solve the problems of Roshar without being a creeping, creepy creep?
I just don’t know. He speculates that if it doesn’t work, he could find another to give the shard to but Wit says that’s not a likely scenario… that once one holds the power of a god, it’s not so easy to give it up. I mean, could you see Taravangian seeing reason and deciding to give up Odium’s shard because he’s just a little crazy with all of that knowledge and power? Yeah, neither could I.
Forgive me from highlighting another section, here, but it’s better read from Brandon than from me:
“Surely it has been done,” Dalinar said.
Wit grew distant, a faint smile on his lips. “Once. It wasn’t a full Ascension, but a mortal did give up the power once. It proved to be the wrong choice, but it was the most selfless thing I believe I’ve ever witnessed. So yes, Dalinar, it is possible. But not easy.”
Is he talking about Vin? I kind of feel like he’s talking about Vin. I could be wrong, but she did take up Preservation for a minute, right? So that’s got to be who Wit’s talking about, right? Or am I overlooking something, Sanderfans?
Moving on, Navani tells Dalinar that she’s going with him. Because of course, she is. And is he really going to argue with her? No. No, he’s not. Wit wants to stage a test run into the Spiritual Realm and suggests that they find a place lower in the tower, in case it doesn’t work. That way, they won’t have as far to fall. …I’m sorry, what?
Chapter 26 is titled “Hunting the Hunter” and thankfully, we return to Shallan, who tries to think of how to field Iyatil’s question or order, which the woman repeats after a moment. After Iyatil glances toward the other mask-wearer, the man, Shallan takes a chance and simply responds with “a curt nod,” which seems to satisfy Iyatil. She goes to speak to the other off-worlder and Shallan follows. Iyatil and the male Scadrian have a hurried conversation and Shallan understands none of it.
To save her own… assets, her interior Veil voice encourages her to find a distraction, so Shallan stares at a doorknob and when it’s obvious that it’s her turn to speak, she points and whispers, “Sja-anat.” This has the desired effect of pulling Iyatil’s attention from the conversation that Shallan doesn’t understand. Iyatil checks out the doorknob and seeing nothing, she leaves the others to go talk to Mraize. Shallan is left alone when the male Scadrian follows Iyatil, leaving her to pretend to study the doorknob.
Then, who should show up in the shiny doorknob but Sja-anat. She tells Shallan that she’s clever for managing to get out of that conversation without being able to speak their language. Shallan holds a whispered conversation with the Unmade and flat out asks her whose side she’s on. Hey, someone’s being direct and trying to get useful info? Well done, Shallan!
Sja-anat says that she fights for “survival” and that Odium has proven that he doesn’t care about her or her children. She basically suggests that Shallan should join her. It’s rather refreshing to see her lay the cards out on the table this way. How do you feel about Sja-anat and her seeming rejection of Odium, Sanderfans?
Iyatil and Mraize approach and, surprisingly, Sja-anat does not hide. Iyatil tells the other Scadrian, Lieke, to stay and entertain the others while she and Mraize (with Shallan following) enter the alcove occupied by Mraize’s trophy case. Only it’s not his, it’s Iyatil’s, who points to the glass and Sja-anat’s reflection. She asks Sja-anat why she’s there when she’s supposed to be watching the Bondsmiths. The Unmade answers that she would draw attention from the Sibling so her children watch instead.
Then… ::drumroll:: Mraize drops a bomb right on Shallan’s head. He reminds Sja-anat, who is questioning why they’d want to risk becoming lost in the Spiritual Realm, that she had told him that “our spren could guide us.”
Yup… they’re Radiant, bonded to Sja-anat’s children. Shallan remembers being the one to arrange Sja-anat’s meeting with the Ghostbloods. Radiant reassures her and tells her not to be too hard on herself for this unforeseen consequence.
Meanwhile, Sja-anat warns Mraize and Iyatil that Mishram is not “fond of humans,” which we gleaned when she appeared to Shallan in Shadesmar. Angry Unmade is angry.
Then Mraize asks Sja-anat if Shallan is hunting them. The Unmade confirms that she does hunt them and does not look at Shallan! She’s totes covering for her. I love it! Then Iyatil tells Mraize that he fixates too much on Shallan, that her attention will be on protecting her loved ones. She sends Mraize away and tells Shallan (still in disguise, of course) that something is wrong with him:
“I do not think he has been replaced with a duplicate, but I do question his loyalty to our cause.”
Wait, what? Replaced with a duplicate? She’s his Babsk and she thinks it’s possible to “replace” someone that she knows so well? To the point that she can’t tell if it’s really him? How…?
Then Iyatil talks of finding Mishram for her purposes and says that Thaidakar can protect his land if the Shards can be controlled. She asks Shallan if this will fit her plans as well and Shallan doesn’t know how to answer so she nods again.
Then Iyatil focuses on Shallan and, presumably, realizes that her eyes are wrong. Shockspren appear as she realizes it’s not her cohort behind that mask. She shouts:
“Radiants! We are discovered!”
Wait. Radiants? Are they ALL storming Radiants? Holy guacamole on a chouta, Sanderfans… the Ghostbloods have leveled up in the most dangerous way. How can Shallan and her Unseen Court go head to head with Radiant Ghostbloods? What do you all think of this development?
Please, please discuss all the things in the comments because we want to see your thoughts on these super interesting developments!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
For chapter 25, all four Herald portraits are of Jezrien (Jezerezeh), Herald of Kings, patron of the Windrunners. His attributes are Protecting/Leading, and his role is King. This doesn’t seem to relate to Shallan’s section, but it does relate to Dalinar’s part. He’s talking about ascending to hold the Shard of Honor, and leading/protecting the entirety of the world, if not the Cosmere.
Chapter 26 is also a pretty obvious choice, with all four portraits being of Battah (Battar), patron of the Elsecallers. Her attributes are Wise/Careful and her role is Counsellor, and if Shallan’s not the embodiment of care and wisdom in this chapter, I don’t know who is.
The Almighty has given us the limbs to move and the minds to decide. Let no monarch take away what was divinely granted. The Heralds also taught that all should have the sacred right of freedom of movement, to escape a bad situation. Or simply to seek a brighter dawn.
I continued on my way, contemplating dust and the nature of desertion. For I, as king, had walked away from my duties, and it was different for me. Had I not renounced a throne the Almighty had granted, and in so doing, undermined my very own words? Was I abandoning that which was divinely given me?
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Interesting that these excerpts are coming now, when Dalinar is considering abandoning his duties as “king” and seeking a higher power.
Felt
Felt was a Ghostblood.
Reminder that Felt was one of the men that went with Dalinar to visit the Nightwatcher, and was with Adolin and Shallan on their trip to Lasting Integrity. I’ll let Drew go into more detail about his status as a worldhopper.
Dalinar
From Jasnah or Adolin, perhaps those words would have been a challenge. A question why he always put himself in the center of the issue. He found such questions ridiculous—who else could he trust with a problem of such magnitude? Someone needed to walk the difficult roads, and—as ruler—it was his duty.
Hubris vs. responsibility… it’s a fine line to walk, to be sure, and a fundamental part of Dalinar’s personality. Where does the line between tyrant and leader fall? Is he right about his understanding of when to lead vs when to delegate responsibility… or is his ego getting the better of him?
Sja-anat
I am on the side of preserving a world for my children.
And who can blame her for that, truly? The more we see of her, the more I question whether she’s the villain she’s been labeled. Though… that said, what villain really considers themselves to be a villain? Taravangian also only wanted to protect his own, and look at the atrocities he committed to provide that protection…
Iyatil & Thaidakar (Kelsier)
He works to protect his homeland above all else, but once we find Mishram for my purposes, he will see. Master Thaidakar can only protect his land if the Shards can be controlled.
Something gives me the feeling that Kelsier wouldn’t be terribly pleased with this secret being withheld from him. He always has been the type to appreciate his compatriots having plans and agency, but this seems to be going too far.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
All right, Cosmere fans. Here we go.
Straight away, we follow Shallan down into this new Ghostblood lair, and we’re treated to Mraize’s Cosmere Goodies 2.0. (Well, not Mraize’s. Iyatil’s. We’ll get to that.) First, we have to break down what exactly we’re looking at, here.
Housed in a small room full of glass-fronted cases, each unlabeled artifact had its own shelf lit by a handful of chips. A silvery horn or claw from some great beast.
Brandon leads off with something sure to get some eyebrows raised: Dragonsteel. This is almost certainly from a dragon, just like we’ve previously seen in Tress of the Emerald Sea on the great scholar dragon Xisis.
A chunk of light red crystal, like pink salt—though of a deeper, more vibrant color.
Here we have some Roseite Aether, again as seen in Tress of the Emerald Sea (and The Lost Metal). This actually showed up in Words of Radiance as well, the first time Shallan saw Mraize’s collection. Knowing what we do now about how Aethers work, though, raises the question of whether this is the same bit of Roseite Aether, or if Mraize/Iyatil/the Ghostbloods have another source of it on Roshar. It sure doesn’t seem like TwinSoul is visiting them, given what we find out in The Lost Metal.
A violet stone egg, partly crystalline, with silver swirling around its shell.
Then we get our first big question mark. This object doesn’t resemble anything we’ve seen in published canon (or really anything in readily available unpublished canon, either.) My gut instinct upon reading this was that it’s a dragon egg, hence the silver swirl. That’s an easy leap to make, with a Dragonsteel claw or horn sitting right next to it.
But there’s a wrench in that possibility. This Word of Brandon indicates that his plan, at least a couple years ago, was to have dragons be born like humans and live the first stretch of their lives entirely in human form. But curiously, he waffles a lot while answering the question, leaving room for some changes.
What if the birth of a dragon depends on who the parents are? Maybe a female dragon mating with a human male could end up with a hatching situation, and the inverse being a live birth?
Or perhaps this is a Sho Del egg. In canon, we’ve still seen very little of them—just a couple brief glimpses in The Sunlit Man and Yumi and the Nightmare Painter, along with the MeLaan epilogue in The Lost Metal. They certainly have some draconic qualities, and they don’t seem to have the same ability as dragons when it comes to shapeshifting.
It could also be something entirely new, something Brandon is saving for something more in the future. Maybe The Isles of the Emberdark will hold an answer? Maybe we have to wait for the Dragonsteel series itself…
A fat, succulent leaf that pulsed red and seemed to radiate heat.
Another one that doesn’t have an easy answer. There are a couple of places in the known Cosmere with noteworthy vegetation, and Words of Radiance showed that the collection includes the Tears of Edgli flower from Nalthis. But this leaf, emitting heat, doesn’t really line up with anything we saw in Warbreaker; nor does it immediately fit with the local flora of Patji in Sixth of the Dusk.
It seems we have a couple new things to keep our eyes peeled for in forthcoming Cosmere publications.
A vial of pale sand she now recognized as having a very practical application.
Unfortunately the final item named in the collection is a well-known quantity at this point, so there’s not much room for speculation. White Sand has become more and more of a ubiquitous tool in the Cosmere, though that brings its own ramifications.
The Lost Metal shows that Autonomy is aggressively moving against Scadrial, yes, but Wind and Truth takes place before Mistborn Era 2—and Arcanum Unbounded indicates that there was some sort of blockade or closure, preventing visitors from reaching the world. Word of Brandon is that that was only temporary, but we don’t know when the restriction was lifted. Certainly during the events of Secret History it was still closed off, which we know thanks to Khriss’ comments to Kelsier.
How long has Iyatil been working on this? Perhaps she visited everyone’s favorite tidally locked planet before Autonomy said “no thanks” to foreigners?
A quick aside for a random theory on a throwaway line:
If there is room for my children, there will be room for yours.
Is Shallan pregnant? Anyway…
“My trophy case. I see her reflection.”
And there’s the boom. Of course all this was Iyatil’s rather than Mraize’s. She’s the boss, after all—Shallan just gets fixated on Mraize because he’s the one who steals the spotlight. Speaking of stealing the spotlight, it’s easy to forget all the neat little things in the trophy case when this just happened:
“You said our spren could guide us,” Mraize said, stepping closer to the mirror.
Whoo boy, things just got a whole lot more difficult for Shallan and the Unseen Court. Mraize and Iyatil, bonded to Enlightened spren sent by Sja-anat… they have a serious Investiture arsenal at this point. Mraize holds Breath, as we saw in Rhythm of War. He’s got an Aviar, he’s got anti-Light, and now he’s in control of two indeterminate Surges.
And now the jig is up, and Shallan is surrounded by a bunch of Ghostbloods.
Fan Theories
Lyn: In the weekly discussion thread over on Reddit, Saruphon has this interesting theory based on the epigraphs:
From this i predicted that someone will get to leave Roshar at the end of WAT, maybe Odium (in case odium lose) or the knights radiant (in case Dalinar lose). … This is Alethi Right of Travel, but BS putting this here foreshadow that someone or some group will get right of travel to leave Roshar even if their team lose (likely Knight Radiant)
As for hilarious off-the-wall tinfoil hat theories that will cause me to eat one of my many renaissance faire hats if it’s right, we’ve got redshadow310 speculating:
What if Stick is a shardblade? In an earlier chapter it’s mentioned that abandoned blades fade in the physical world after time. What if they don’t fade completely but the perception of them changes? A deadeye radiant spren, abandoned on an isolated beach for millennia begins to perceive itself as a stick like all the other driftwood around it and changes form.
I’m not saying it’s impossible. Sanderson’s thrown some pretty wild curveballs at us, after all. But mark my words, if this turns out to be true, I’ll be consuming a cap.
I think Mastpar speaks for us all when they say “I would die for Bippy!” I have similar thoughts about Molli the ewe which can be summed up thusly.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 27 and 28![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 27: What Is Right
Twenty-six years ago
Szeth’s father, Neturo-son-Vallano, knelt beside the new stone. Szeth’s mother, Zeenid-daughter-Beth, was overseeing painting classes in the town, so they’d sent her a message via Tek, one of their carrier parrots. Wind blew across them, bringing with it the pungent scent of the gathered sheep in the nearby pasture.
Szeth hid behind his father, peeking out. He wasn’t certain why this new stone frightened him so. He loved their rock, and a new one was surely cause for celebration, but shamefully… he wished he hadn’t found it. Something new meant possible celebration, possible attention, possible change. He preferred quiet days full of languid breezes and bleating sheep. Nights beside the hearth or the firepit, listening to Mother tell stories. He didn’t want some grand new thing. Szeth had what he loved.
“What do we do, Father?” Elid asked. “Call the Stone Shamans?”
“It depends,” he said. “Depends.”
Their father was a calm man, with a long beard he liked to keep tied with a green ribbon at the bottom, matching ones on his arms, together forming his splash. He got to wear three, as his duty of training other shepherds elevated him. His head was shaded by his customary tall reed hat with a wide brim, and he had a bit of a paunch that spoke to his talent as a cook. He had all the answers. Always.
“What about it is uncertain, Father?” Szeth said, peeking around at the little stone. “We just do what is right.”
Father glanced at their larger stone, then at this one. “A single rock is a blessed anomaly. Two… might mean more. It might mean the spren have chosen this region.”
“What do you mean?” Elid asked, hands on her hips.
“I mean there might be other rocks,” Father said, “hiding beneath the surface here. Stone Shamans will want to set aside the entire region, preserve it and watch it for a few years to see if anything else emerges.”
“And… us?” Szeth asked.
“Well, we’ll have to move,” Father replied. “Tear down the house, in case it’s accidentally on holy ground. Set up wherever the Farmer finds land for us. Maybe in the town.”
In the town? Szeth turned, looking into the distance—though the rolling hills prevented him from seeing Clearmount unless he climbed up on top of one. It was close enough to walk to in an hour or so, but he found the place noisy, congested. In the town, it felt like the mountains weren’t just around the corner, because buildings blocked them out. It felt like the meadows had gone brown, replaced by dull roads. You couldn’t smell the sea breezes.
He didn’t hate the town. But he got the sense that it hated the things he loved.
“I don’t want to move!” Elid said. “We found a rock! We shouldn’t be punished.”
“If it’s right though,” Szeth said, “then we have to do it. Right, Father?”
Father stood up, pulling at his trousers, and waited. Soon Szeth picked out his mother hurrying along the path between hills toward their home. She wore a long green skirt as her splash—while it was only one piece, that size… well, it was an audacious amount for her station. She had a white apron over the front, and curly light brown hair that bunched up around her head like a cloud.
She was carrying one of the town’s shovels—a relic crafted from metal that had never seen rock, Soulcast by an Honorbearer and gifted to them.
Szeth gaped, his jaw dropping. That couldn’t mean…
Mother hurried up to them, shovel on her shoulder. Father nodded toward the new rock, and Mother let out a relieved sigh. “So small? Your note had me worried, Neturo.”
“Mother?” Szeth said. “What are you doing?”
“Merely a quick relocation,” she said. “I borrowed one of the shovels, but didn’t tell anyone why. We’ll dig up the rock and move it a few hundred yards. Let it rain a little, so it seems to have naturally poked up, then tell everyone.”
Szeth gasped. “We can’t touch it!”
Mother pulled out a pair of gloves. “Of course not. That’s why I brought gloves, dear.”
“That’s the same thing!” Szeth said, horrified. He looked to his father. “We can’t do this, can we?”
Father scratched at his beard. “Depends, I suppose, on what you think, son.”
“Me?”
“You found the rock,” Father said, glancing at Mother, who nodded in agreement. “So you can decide.”
“I choose whatever is right,” Szeth said immediately.
“Is it right for us to lose our home?” Father asked.
“I…” Szeth glanced at the house.
“There might be dozens of rocks underneath here,” Father said. “If that’s the case, then we should absolutely move. But in the hundreds of years that rain has fallen on this region, only two have emerged. So it’s unlikely. Moving the stone a few hundred yards will still make the shamans watch this area, but with the rocks being farther apart, the worry will be more nebulous. But that requires us to move it. In secret.”
“We hate the stonewalkers,” Szeth said, “because of how they treat rock.”
Father knelt down, one hand on Szeth’s shoulder. “We don’t hate them. They simply don’t know the right way of things.”
“They raid us, Father,” Elid said, folding her arms.
“Yes, well,” he said. “Those men are evil, but it’s not because they live in a place with too much stone. It’s because of the choices they make.” He smiled at Szeth. “It’s okay, son. If you want us to turn this in now, well, we’ll do it.”
“Can’t you just… tell me what to do?” Szeth asked.
“No, I don’t think that I can,” Father said. “Unfair to put you in this spot, I know, but the spren gave you the first sight. You should decide. We can move the rock, or we can move our home. I’ll accept either one.”
“Maybe we should let him sleep on it,” Mother said.
“No,” Szeth said. “No. We can… move the rock.”
All three of them relaxed as he said it, and he felt a sudden—shameful—resentment. His father said Szeth could choose, but they’d all clearly wanted a specific decision. He’d made it not because it was right, but because he had sensed their desires.
But how could they all want it if it wasn’t right? Maybe they saw something he didn’t—maybe he was broken. But if so, they should have simply told him what they intended to do, and then done it. That would have been fine. Why give him the choice? Didn’t they see that made this his fault?
Mother pulled on her gloves and started digging. Szeth winced each time the shovel scraped the stone. That metallic sound was not natural. He hoped that they would discover the rock was enormous—so that the plan had to be abandoned. In the end, it was small. Eight inches long, and a dull grey color. He could have held it in one hand, if he’d wanted.
Molli the ewe, seeming to sense his tension, rubbed up against him and he gripped at her wool, her warmth. Even Mother seemed a little unsure, now that she’d dug the rock out. She stepped back, leaving it in the hole.
“You scraped it,” Elid said. “That seems… kind of obvious.”
“Once we’ve buried it again,” Mother said, “nobody will see the scrapes.”
“How much trouble would we be in,” Elid asked, “if someone found out?”
“I suspect the Farmer wouldn’t be happy,” Father said. He laughed then, and it sounded genuine. “Might require some cake to make up for it. Don’t get that look, Szeth. We show devotion because we choose to. And so, the kind of devotion we make is ours to decide.”
“I… don’t understand,” he said. “Don’t the Stone Shamans tell us what to do?”
“They share the teachings of the spren,” Mother said, as she shouldered the shovel. “But we interpret those teachings. What we’re doing here today is reverent enough for me.”
Szeth thought on that and wondered—as this was not the first clue in his life—if perhaps this was why they chose to live outside the town. Many shepherd families lived at least part of the year inside it. His family visited each month for devotions, so he didn’t dare think that his family wasn’t faithful. Yet the older he got, the more questions he had.
How did he feel about his parents doing something he knew the shamans wouldn’t approve of?
They were still all standing there, staring at the rock, when the horns sounded. Father looked up, then whispered a soft prayer to the spren of their stone. The horns meant raiders on the southern coast. Stonewalkers.
Szeth felt an immediate panic. “What do we do?”
“Gather the sheep,” Father said. “Quickly. We must drive them toward Dison’s Valley on the other side of the town. The Farmer has troops in the region. We’ll be safe inland.”
“But this?” Szeth said, gesturing to the rock. “This!”
Mother, suddenly determined, reached down and grabbed it in her gloved hands. Together, all four of them froze, then looked toward their family stone. It sat there, unmoving. None of them were struck down. Szeth thought he could tell, from the way his parents slowly relaxed, that they hadn’t been certain.
At least this indicated his parents hadn’t been secretly moving rocks around all his life. Mother walked over to a tree nearer their house, then carefully placed the stone into a gnarled nook among the roots and hid it with leaves.
“That will do for now,” she said. “If raiders do come here, they’ll think nothing of a stone. They don’t reverence stone or the spren who live within them. You all gather the sheep; I’ll return this shovel.”
Father and Elid went to do exactly that. Szeth hugged Molli, wishing this day had never begun.
Chapter 28: Obstacle
I do not have answers, and there will always be some who denounce me for this decision I made. But let me teach a truth here that is often misunderstood: sometimes, it is not weakness, but strength, to stand up and walk away.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Iyatil ran for the larger room, giving Shallan time to reach into her sleeve and activate the spanreed strapped to her arm. A long press, locked into position, which would make the ruby on the other spanreed pulse—indicating an emergency.
Shallan turned to run up the steps.
Radiant stopped her. She’d fooled Mraize and Iyatil. She’d done it. They were just people. Deadly, capable, manipulative. But people. In some ways less capable than Shallan, for if they genuinely had spren, they were very new to them. Perhaps barely a few days into their bonding.
Instead of running, Radiant ripped away the stupid wig and mask. “Armor,” she commanded.
Shallan!
It encased her in a heartbeat, a bright glow from the front of her visor illuminating the room. Pattern followed at her summons, a brilliant, silvery sword. And Testament?
She would not ask Testament to kill again. Shallan reached her left arm to the side, and Testament appeared as a powerful shield, affixed to her arm, light as a cloth glyphward.
Shallan was no longer a child, confused, terrified, forced to kill with a gifted necklace. She had spoken Truth. And today she was the Radiant she’d once only imagined.
From the larger room with the bales of hay, Iyatil shouted to the others. “The Lightweaver is here! She was impersonating Aleen!”
Radiant stepped through the doorway, checking the corners. She leveled her weapon at Lieke, who had been right inside. He fled backward, stepping on purple fearspren. Radiant didn’t blame him. Facing a Shardbearer without Shards was not a wise proposition. Unless you were a storm-faced bridgeman, of course.
Across the room, Mraize took her in, then smiled. Storm him, he was proud of her. He calmly raised his hand ballista and shot a normal, non-lit bolt. She deflected it easily with her shield, and was struck by a new fear. What would happen if anti-Light met a Shardweapon?
Storms, they were in unknown territory.
Iyatil ripped the ballista out of Mraize’s hands. Nearby, the other Ghostbloods were doing themselves credit. When Shallan had pulled similar operations on groups like the Sons of Honor, there had been mass chaos. The Ghostbloods moved with deliberate coordination, spreading out, two summoning Shardblades, others producing conventional weapons.
Iyatil moved quickest of all, explaining why she’d retreated instead of engaging Shallan. Stabbing a Knight Radiant was basically useless; she needed something stronger. Iyatil pulled a bolt from Mraize’s pouch and raised a now-cocked ballista with it loaded, glowing bright. While Mraize had chosen a conventional bolt, Iyatil would shoot anti-Stormlight.
Shallan ducked back into the trophy room. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Ghostbloods retreating toward the west side of the large chamber. Storms, of course they’d have another exit. There was no way in Damnation’s cold winds they would trap themselves—which meant she couldn’t just hold this room and wait for the others.
She stepped into the doorway and shouted, “Mraize!”
Her helmet amplified the sound, as if she’d spoken with ten times the force. Wow.
Shallan! the armor said, somehow conveying You’re welcome.
Mraize stopped retreating and turned toward her.
“Would you become the prey?” she demanded. “Running before the axehound?”
“Even a master hunter hides from the storm,” he called back. “I will face you when it is time, little knife.”
“Why not now?” she asked, advancing. Iyatil was pulling on Mraize’s arm to flee, ballista lowered to her side. Lieke opened a hidden door in the west wall. The others went through—one at a time, no pushing.
Shallan held her hands to the sides, dismissing both Pattern and Testament. “Go find the others; see what is taking them so long,” she whispered to the spren. She could resummon them, but didn’t want to risk them if that bolt was loosed.
Iyatil trained the ballista on her, but did not shoot. She knew she had exactly one shot. The others were escaping, but so long as Iyatil and Mraize were focused on Shallan, she bought time for the strike force to arrive.
“I’ve seen Mishram,” Shallan said. “Lightning in her eyes. Hair like midnight. I’ve seen her.”
That did it. The two fixated on her even more squarely.
“Mishram is imprisoned,” Iyatil said.
“Can any prison truly hold a god?” Shallan said, stepping forward. “Whatever advantage you think you can gain from her, you’re wrong. She is malevolent and terrible, the essence of hatred, imprisoned for two thousand years. She will destroy you, Mraize. Whatever your plan, it is not worth the risk.”
Mraize clasped his hands behind his back, studying her. Her argument wasn’t a good one—Mraize was willing to make big wagers, and was not driven by fear—but it was all she’d been able to come up with on the spot.
Still, he studied Radiant. Was he thinking about what she’d said…
No, Veil thought. He’s thinking how we surprised him by sneaking in here. And how bold we are to stand here, staring down that weapon.
“We don’t have to be enemies,” she said to him.
“You aren’t my enemy,” he said. “You’re my obstacle.”
Iyatil shifted.
She’s going to shoot.
Shallan dove to the side while breathing out and purposely ejecting all of her Stormlight. With some, she created two illusions: one of her jumping in the other direction, another staying in place.
Iyatil tracked the correct Shallan, then loosed.
Go! Shallan commanded the armor.
Shallan? the spren sent, but obeyed, vanishing right as the crossbow bolt took her in the ribs. She tumbled in her dive, grunting at the sudden jolt of pain. She almost drew in Stormlight, but forcibly stopped herself. No. No.
The bolt had a metal tip, with a gemstone clipped into the shaft. That tip… it was designed, like the weapons of the Fused, to move Light. In this case, it injected the anti-Light, making it seep through her. It wasn’t painful, not compared to the actual wound, but it was wrong. A cold that prowled through her veins, carried through her body with every beat of her heart.
Painspren clawed up from the stone ground around her. This feeling was unnatural, counter to her very nature, but… she felt she could have drawn it in like normal Light. She decided not to try, as it did not seem to be able to hurt her so long as she set her jaw against the pain and refused the normal Stormlight that would heal her. Because if those two met…
Through tears of pain, Shallan watched Mraize take Iyatil by the arm and gesture toward the exit. She instead pulled a knife from its sheath at her belt and moved toward Shallan.
Then, blessedly, something distracted them. Shouts from the hidden hallway?
The ceiling in the center of the room—between Shallan and the other two—melted.
Stone in a hole maybe eight feet across poured down, as if it had suddenly become mud. It splashed on the floor of the cavern—missing the podium by inches and touching none of the people—then instantly hardened. Through that hole came a dozen Windrunners one after another—the last carrying Erinor, Darcira’s husband, a Stoneward. That explained the meltiness.
Hand on her wound—bloodied fingers around the crossbow bolt—Shallan met Mraize’s eyes.
Then he, Iyatil, and Lieke—who had been lingering—vanished. The air around them warped with a light tinged black-violet, and they were gone.
* * *
Szeth trailed off, having told Kaladin a little about his family as they walked through the forest for a few hours. A story of the discovery of a rock, told in fits and starts. Kaladin hadn’t interrupted, enjoying hearing the other man open up—plus, learning about the Shin was genuinely interesting.
This time when Szeth trailed off, he didn’t continue.
“You heard a horn?” Kaladin eventually prompted. “What did that mean?”
“I’m done for now,” Szeth said.
Kaladin sighed, but otherwise contained his annoyance. At least that story had been something. They soon reached a sharp drop-off. Here the trail wound down in a series of steep switchbacks, so they took a quick jaunt into the sky. Kaladin felt invigorated, bathed in the light of a sun that had passed its zenith and was now working toward the horizon.
“Do you have forests near your home?” Szeth asked as they lazily drifted down, skimming the tops of the foliage.
“Not like this,” Kaladin said. “I didn’t see a true forest until I reached the Shattered Plains, and took a trip to the harvesting operations a half day’s march north.”
“I always thought there couldn’t be trees outside Shinovar,” Szeth said, Stormlight escaping his lips. “How could they grow in a land with no soil?”
“And I,” Kaladin said, “never imagined you’d have them here. With nothing for their roots to grip.”
Szeth grunted at that, then Lashed himself in a steady swoop along the mountainside. Kaladin followed as the trees dwindled, and they approached Shinovar proper: a vast plain of vibrant green. Kaladin had seen many a field before, but he realized that up until this moment, he’d never seen something so alive as this prairie. Though again, there were no lifespren, which he found odd.
Regardless, fields back home had grass, but with more space between the blades, so the brown cremstone filtered through. Here the grass grew like moss, achieving an aggressive density. As if the individual blades had formed mobs, armies, pike blocks.
Following Szeth, he landed on an outcropping on the slope. As Szeth sat down to inspect the land before them, Kaladin walked to the edge, his Stormlight giving out, and his full weight settled on him, his feet sinking into the soft soil to an unfamiliar degree. The entire view—with the rolling hills of green and a thick blanket of grass—made him think of an ocean. Each of those hills a swell or wave, with trees like ships. There was even what he thought might be a herd of wild horses in the distance. Incredible.
“I see it now,” Kaladin whispered.
“What?” Szeth asked.
“I see how your land survives. That grass… it doesn’t move, doesn’t react. Yet it feels as if it could swallow everything. Like it wants to consume me.”
“It will, once you die,” Szeth said softly. “It will take all of us. Undoubtedly later than we deserve.”
What a delightful way of thinking. Syl landed next to Kaladin, becoming full sized and trimmed in violet. She was grinning, naturally. “Look at the solitary trees!” she said, pointing. “Look at them just sitting there alone, without a care in the world.”
Here, trees didn’t need companions with whom to lock roots. But Kaladin, now that he thought to look closer, found the buildings more unusual. This region wasn’t terribly well populated, but he picked out one town, maybe the size of Hearthstone—and several lonely homesteads.
Those buildings seemed so unprotected, practically shouting for the storms to take them. Though they were distant, he thought they were wooden, and appeared flimsy. With flat walls to the east, and windows on those sides as well. He knew people here didn’t have to fight the storms, but those homes unnerved him. Made him think the people must be weak, innocent, in need of protection. Like lost children wandering a battlefield.
“This is wrong,” Szeth said.
“Yeah,” Kaladin said, kneeling beside him in the knee-high grass. “How do people live here?”
“Peacefully, when your kind let them,” Szeth said, his eyes narrowed. He sat somewhat awkwardly, the strange black sword strapped to his back. It was a good example of why one normally summoned a Shardblade, instead of carrying it. The weapon was awkwardly sized: too long to be worn at the waist, but difficult to draw when strapped to the back like that.
Szeth glanced at him and shook his head. “Something is wrong here. Not the things you see with a stonewalker’s perspective, Kaladin. Look. Does that region seem… darker than it should?”
Kaladin followed Szeth’s pointing finger to a rise on the right, along the cliffsides of the mountain. It was darker than the stones and soil around it. But… there was no visible cloud to cause that shadow. Kaladin narrowed his eyes and thought he could see wisps of blackness rising from it.
“What’s over there?” Kaladin asked.
“The monastery,” Szeth said. “We have ten of them. Most are homes of the Honorblades.”
The legendary weapons of the Heralds. Szeth had wielded one when killing old King Gavilar. It, unfortunately, had fallen into other hands… the hands of a man who should have been Kaladin’s brother.
“You keep the Honorblades in monasteries?” Kaladin asked.
“One for each Radiant order, though Talmut’s is missing, of course, as is Nin’s. Ishu has claimed his too, now. Regardless, when a person is elevated as I was in my youth, they travel to each monastery on pilgrimage, training at those that have an Honorblade, mastering each Surge. That one ahead is the first I lived in, but it has no Blade.”
“Which one is it?” Syl asked from the edge of their overlook, gazing straight along the mountainside to that distant fortress on the ridge. “Which Blade should it have held?”
“Talmut’s,” Szeth said. “You call him Talenelat, or Taln. Stonesinew, the Bearer of Agonies.”
“That darkness,” Kaladin said, “reminds me of the darkness around the Kholinar palace. An Unmade lived there. You really met one here, in Shinovar?”
“Yes,” Szeth said softly.
“When was this?” Kaladin said. “After you discovered a rock on your family’s ground?” He hoped to prompt more of the story.
“The meeting was much later,” Szeth said, “but that day with the rock, and the raid… that was the beginning.”
“Do you want to tell me more?” Kaladin asked.
“None of that matters. All that matters is the quest.”
“And the people, your family, the—”
“None of it matters,” Szeth repeated. “We should camp here for the night and visit the monastery in the morning. Unless you want to investigate that place now.”
Kaladin shoved aside his annoyance at Szeth and looked again at the patch of darkness. Then he glanced at the sun, which was getting close to setting. He wasn’t certain how all this connected—Ishar, Dalinar’s request of him, and Szeth’s story. But if there was an Unmade, he didn’t want to risk encountering it at night. Kaladin had faced them at Kholinar, where he’d failed to protect the people. Even the Unmade he’d eventually defeated—when it had worn Amaram’s body—had been extremely dangerous.
“Camping sounds good,” Kaladin said. “But let’s do it farther back and around that bend, to shelter the cookfire.”
“We don’t need a cookfire,” Szeth said. “We have travel rations.”
Kaladin insisted, however. Thankfully Szeth joined him, and offered no further complaint about a cookfire. Because Kaladin needed this man to open up.
It’s November! One more month-ish until the Wind and Truth release! It’s also Monday which means, dearest Sanderfans, that is time for another Wind and Truth read-along discussion! ::fanfare::
Last week we dove into chapters 25 and 26, with Dalinar, Navani, and Wit, and also some thrilling Shallan shenanigans… that girl, always getting mixed up with dangerous secret societies. ::shakes my head:: This week, we’re spending time with young Szeth, picking up where we left off with Shallan, and checking in on the buddy-cop adventure unfolding in Shinovar in chapters 27 and 28. That’s so much happening already, right? But we’ve still got a month to go, friends! And we are loving that we get to share these initial chapters with you, so let’s get to it…
Oh, and be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we’ve spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly (likely) contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 27 is titled “What is Right” and it’s another Szeth flashback. Remember, he’s 11 years old and has just discovered a new rock on his family’s homestead. (Well, Molli the sheep discovered it. I guess her licking it wasn’t desecrating it.) So now, Szeth’s father, Neturo-son-Vallano is inspecting the rock as they wait for Szeth’s mother, Zeenid-daughter-Beth to arrive. Szeth, who’s fearful, asks his father if they’ll have to tell the Stone Shamans about the rock and he doesn’t get a straight answer… His father just tells him that it depends. Wait, what? It depends? On what? And here we see Szeth wishing he hadn’t found the rock, for though it will surely be cause for celebration, it could mean change and he doesn’t want change. He loves his life as it is, and my heart aches for this younger, more innocent Szeth who was capable of love.
Neturo says that the Stone Shamans may decide to close off the area, in case more stones appear. That they would have to tear down their house and possibly move to the town. Szeth doesn’t seem overly fond of the town; he likes how he can see the mountains and smell the sea breeze from their homestead. Szeth’s sister Elid says that she doesn’t want to move, that they shouldn’t be punished for finding a rock. Szeth, however, keeps going back to how they must do what is right. If it’s right that they have to move, then that’s what they’ll do.
Then Zeenid arrives and Szeth is shocked to see her carrying a Soulcast shovel. She says that they’ll relocate the rock a few hundred yards away and Szeth is appalled that she’s going to touch the rock. But she brought gloves! No need to touch any sacred rocks here, son! But Szeth asks his father if they can really do this and he says that it depends on what Szeth thinks, since he found the rock. Oh, great idea… Put the decision in the child’s hands. Well, the child says he’ll do what is right and his father counters with asking if losing their home is right. Dude. So not cool.
Szeth brings up the stonewalkers, stating that they’re hated because of how they treat rocks and his father gently corrects him, saying they just don’t know the right way. Elid pipes up, saying that the stonewalkers raid them and Neturo concedes and says that those men are evil but not because they walk on stone but because of the choices they make. Then he tells Szeth that they can move the rock if that’s what Szeth wants to do. Szeth asks if his father can’t tell him what to do and is told that no, he must make the choice but that Neturo will accept whatever Szeth decides. Szeth says they can move the rock.
All three of them relaxed as he said it, and he felt a sudden—shameful— resentment. His father said Szeth could choose, but they’d all clearly wanted a specific decision. He’d made it not because it was right, but because he had sensed their desires.
Szeth didn’t understand how they could all relax when it wasn’t right to move the rock. He wonders if he is somehow broken and thinks that if that’s what they had all wanted, why hadn’t they just done it instead of making him choose? …You’re killing me, here, Brandon!
So Zeenid digs out the rock, scraping the Soulcast shovel against it several times and each time, Szeth cringes at the sound. She reveals an 8-inch gray rock which Szeth thinks could fit in his hand. As they all stare at the rock, a horn sounds. It’s a raid—stonewalkers have reached the coast. Neturo tells Seth they must move the sheep inland, away from the sea, and Zeenid plucks the rock from the ground and hides it in a nook amongst the roots of a nearby tree.
And then… ha-ha-ha… the chapter ends. I guess we should’ve seen that coming!
Chapter 28 is titled “Obstacle” and we’re back with Shallan, newly discovered by her Ghostblood enemies, as she calls her armor spren to her and pursues Iyatil, summoning Pattern as a blade and Testament as a shield. It’s quite a striking scene if you take the time to picture it: Shallan… Radiant… whoever… resplendent in red Shardplate with a Shardblade and a Shardshield. Damn, girl! Get it!
She pursues Iyatil back into the main room and, of course, Mraize shoots a freaking bolt at her with his handheld ballista. She easily deflects it but wonders what would happen if a bolt containing an anti-Stormlight gem were to hit one of her shards. (What would happen, do you think Sanderfans?) Well, we won’t find out because when Iyatil takes the ballista from Mraize and shoots an anti-Stormlight bolt at Shallan, she dismisses her Plate and both of her spren and just… takes the bolt directly to her side! And it injects anti-Stormlight into her body! Eww. What the crem? Pardon me while I go wash my hands because, gross.
Before she got shot though, Shallan told Mraize and Iyatil that she has seen Mishram and that they would not survive finding her. It was definitely an interesting moment, one that caught Mraize off guard; he was definitely not expecting that reveal.
Iyatil grabs a knife and intends to finish Shallan off, but is interrupted by the ceiling melting. Lo and behold, a Stoneward has made their way into the chamber accompanied by Windrunners… here to save the day. ::more fanfare::
POV shift!
Szeth has just finished telling Kaladin a bit of his childhood (double flashback duty!) and then he goes all shy and quiet and refuses to continue. Typical assassin.
They come to a place where they can see green fields and towns laid out before them… and it’s beautiful. But against the mountains in the distance, they see an unnaturally dark, shadowy place along a rise. Szeth reveals that it’s a monastery, dedicated to Taln the Herald, and it has a Darkness about it. Kaladin worries that an Unmade is housed there and they decide to make camp for the night so they can approach the monastery during daylight.
Kaladin suggests starting a campfire though Szeth resists. But Kaladin feels like Szeth needs a little bit of Bridge Four camaraderie to come out of his shell. Do you think it’ll work, Sanderfans? A campfire, a little stew, and maybe Szeth will just BOOM… open up and accept Kaladin’s therapy? What say you?
Let us know in the comments, where you can share all the juicy theories you now have, or just talk about the feelings these chapters gave you!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
Chapter 27’s chapter arch Herald is Ishi (Ishar), Herald of Luck, patron of the Bondsmiths in all four spaces. His attributes are Pious/Guiding and his role is Priest. It makes a LOT of sense for Ishi to be the Herald of this Szeth POV flashback, as the entire chapter is about piety.
Chapter 28’s Herald of choice for the chapter arch, in all four spaces, is Chana, (Chanarach), Herald of the Common Man and patron of Dustbringers. Her attributes are Brave/Obedient and her role is Guard. Kaladin’s certainly acting the guard in this chapter, and Shallan’s being brave in standing up to the Ghostbloods.
I do not have answers, and there will always be some who denounce me for this decision I made. But let me teach a truth here that is often misunderstood: sometimes, it is not weakness, but strength, to stand up and walk away.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
I honestly don’t have much to say on this one. I don’t think these bits of parable are related to the chapters they precede, so much as that they’re meant to be taken all together. Once we have the full picture, I’ll quote them all together and we’ll see what we can glean from them…
Szeth
Something new meant possible celebration, possible attention, possible change. He preferred quiet days full of languid breezes and bleating sheep.
Poor Szeth. We know, from where he is now, that everything is going to change for him. He’s going to lose his family. His culture. His way of life. His innocence. Everything about his life that he loves as a child will be irrevocably taken from him.
All three of them relaxed as he said it, and he felt a sudden—shameful—resentment. His father said Szeth could choose, but they’d all clearly wanted a specific decision. He’d made it not because it was right, but because he had sensed their desires.
Ah, a difficult ethical dilemma, and a difficult place to be put in for such a young child. Should the will of the people supersede the divine?
As to his abhorrence of making decisions in general… We still see this inclination in Szeth in the present. He prefers to be told what to do. And in a way, who can blame him? If you’re not the one making the decisions, the responsibility for said decisions can’t be laid at your feet.
We show devotion because we choose to. And so, the kind of devotion we make is ours to decide.”
“Don’t the Stone Shamans tell us what to do?”
“They share the teachings of the spren,” Mother said, as she shouldered the shovel. “But we interpret those teachings. What we’re doing here today is reverent enough for me.”
Taking the holy word of your religion and interpreting it how you wish is something that we see in the real world in almost every organized religion. It’s why there are so many variations of Christianity. The very nature of the written (or spoken) word is such that it’s open to interpretation. But of course, this goes against Szeth’s nature. He wants everything to be black and white, to be told what to do, to not have responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. But life is never that simple, and we rarely get what we want.
Szeth trailed off, having told Kaladin a little about his family as they walked through the forest for a few hours. A story of the discovery of a rock, told in fits and starts.
So the flashback we’re seeing is Szeth telling his own story to Kaladin. I’m honestly surprised that Kaladin’s managed to get this level of openness from him so swiftly, but I’m also happy to see it, for Szeth’s sake. He’s kept his trauma and pain bottled up for so long, with no one to listen to him. He needs this. He needs a friend.
Thankfully Szeth joined him, and offered no further complaint about a cookfire. Because Kaladin needed this man to open up.
And he figured he’d try an old standby.
Ah, yes. The good old stew trick, of course. It’s nice to see that Rock’s legacy lives on, regardless of where he is…
Shallan
She would not ask Testament to kill again. Shallan reached her left arm to the side, and Testament appeared as a powerful shield, affixed to her arm, light as a cloth glyphward.
Okay. That’s really cool. I’m also really glad to see Shallan being as sympathetic and understanding as she currently is. She’s really taking the time to think about her actions and how they’re affecting those she cares about.
She almost drew in Stormlight, but forcibly stopped herself.
I’m so impressed with her growth. She’s always been smart, of course, but this cool-headed analysis of the situation and doing the right thing—scientifically—in the heat of the moment is incredibly impressive.
Cultural Analysis
“I always thought there couldn’t be trees outside Shinovar,” Szeth said, Stormlight escaping his lips. “How could they grow in a land with no soil?”
“And I,” Kaladin said, “never imagined you’d have them here. With nothing for their roots to grip.”
I feel like there’s a deeper meaning here. Maybe it’s just the English Major in me looking for symbolism, but the lack of soil in Szeth’s perspective could also be symbolic of his peoples’ view that the Stonewalkers lack virtue. How can goodness “grow” in a land with no adherence to divinity? On Kaladin’s side, the Alethi seem to view the Shin as very wishy-washy, almost childlike. This makes sense, from a culture that holds war and battle in such a high regard, when looking at a pacifist culture. How can their culture “grow” when they have no strength, no bedrock of war upon which to base themselves?
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
While Szeth’s flashbacks have started off relatively slow (when it comes to the magic and lore of the world, at least), things are starting to heat up a tad. It’s helped by the direct connection drawn between the flashback and Szeth’s conversation with Kaladin as they head into Shinovar.
“That darkness,” Kaladin said, “reminds me of the darkness around the Kholinar palace. An Unmade lived there. You really met one here, in Shinovar?”
And so we begin with the Cleansing of Shinovar plotline. Readers have been theorizing about what’s going on in Shinovar for ages now, and the Unmade have always been the leading possibility. But which Unmade are we dealing with here?
A few of them can be crossed off the list straight away: Sja-anat, Ba-Ado-Mishram, and Nergaoul have all been busy elsewhere, as have Re-Shephir, Ashertmarn, and Yelig-nar. That leaves us with three potential culprits: Moelach, Dai-Gonarthis, and Chemoarish.
Moelach is probably another one we can rule out, but it’s not a for-sure thing. Moelach, the Unmade that causes the Death Rattles, is known for moving around—and in fact Szeth notes in both The Way of Kings and Rhythm of War that Death Rattles were at one time common in Shinovar. But this taint on the region seems more permanent than Moelach would be capable of.
Then there’s Chemoarish, the Dustmother. We know basically nothing about her, except that, according to Hessi’s Mythica, she’s not one of the mindless Unmade. This is actually pretty noteworthy, since the three mindless Unmade are all one-word names (Nergaoul, Moelach, and Ashertmarn), and the more aware/sapient of them have hyphenated names (like Sja-anat and Ba-Ado-Mishram). So Chemoarish already holds a strange place in the pantheon of Unmade. I think we should be keeping an eye out for any signs of dustlike phenomena, whether in Shinovar or elsewhere.
The final potential Unmade culprit is Dai-Gonarthis, who according to Hessi may not even be one of the Unmade, but also might be responsible for the Scouring of Aimia. To me, this is a possible red flag waving, as what happened in Shinovar is still such a mystery…but maybe it’s another “Scouring” in progress?
Oh, and another long-lasting mystery? Taln’s Honorblade. Ever since it disappeared en route to the Shattered Plains after the epilogue of The Way of Kings, people have been feverishly guessing about what happened to it. One of the leading theories is that the Shin Stone Shamans figured out that Taln was back and went to get their mitts on it.
“Talmut’s”, Szeth said. “You call him Talenelat, or Taln. Stonesinew, the Bearer of Agonies.”
If the disappearance of the Honorblade was indeed the doing of the Stone Shamans, we’re gonna find out sooner rather than later. If not, one of the most contentious mysteries of The Stormlight Archive will live on!
Meanwhile, back on the Shattered Plains, Shallan is dealing with a new set of problems. Not only are the Ghostbloods (at least some of them) now bonded to Enlightened Radiant spren, but they have one heckuva weapon for taking down Radiants like Shallan, Testament Shardshield or no.
What would happen if anti-Light met a Shardweapon?
Shallan might be wondering about this, but this is a nice bit of dramatic irony. We already know what happens when this stuff comes into contact with a spren, and it’s not pretty. It was a great call to dismiss both Testament and her Plate before the bolt connected, to be honest. I can’t imagine an anti-light mini-ballista would have treated either of those very well. And speaking of great calls by Shallan, it was probably a clutch decision to not give in to either the urge to draw Stormlight to heal or to suck in the anti-Light that punched through her.
Then there’s this:
Then [Mraize], Iyatil, and Lieke—who had been lingering—vanished. The air around them warped with a light tinged black-violet, and they were gone.
There are a few potential possibilities for what this is. Clearly there’s something weird with their Surgebinding, given the Enlightened spren angle. Thus, the black-violet thing, which is reminiscent of Voidlight. But what did they even do? Was this a weird Lightweaving? Or is one of them an Elsecaller? We really haven’t seen much of Transportation, but the epilogue of Words of Radiance does give us one clue.
The air in front of him blurred, as if heated in a ring near the ground. A streak of light spun about the ring, forming a wall five or six feet high. It faded immediately—really, it was just an afterimage, as if something glowing had spun in the circle very quickly.
This doesn’t sound exactly like what Mraize and Iyatil did, but it’s pretty close, yeah? Especially with the differences brought through the Enlightened bond. What do you think? Are the Ghostbloods Lightweaving or Elsecalling here?
This is probably very silly, but I wonder if “Unite Them” is about to happen in another way. I wonder if the three Bondsmiths are about to meet, for the first time in many millennia: Dalinar, bonded to the Stormfather; Navani, bonded to the Sibling; and Ba-ado-Mishram, bonded to the Nightwatcher.
This week’s “Reddit comment that made Lyn crack up” goes to the aptly named laughinglord with this gem: **
I will always have a soft spot for Kelsier. But damn buddy, choose better people in your crew. Mraize is a trigger pull away from becoming a moustache-twirling villain!
Also, before anyone comes across this sentence from the end of chapter 27 and notes it as a typo:
They don’t reverence stone or the spren who live within them.
We assure you, coming right from Dragonsteel, that the wording is intentional.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 29 and 30![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 29: Secret Handshakes
Those who offer blanket condemnation are fools, for each situation deserves its own consideration, and rarely can you simply apply a saying—even one of mine—to a situation without serious weighing of the context.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Shallan’s jaw dropped as she lay on the floor of the Ghostblood hideout. She stared, like an eel gasping for breath, at the space where Mraize and the others had vanished. How? The bizarre impossibility of it made the pain of her wound fade for the moment. That had been…
…them transferring to Shadesmar. Like Jasnah could do. Had Sja-anat saved them? No. One of them was an Elsecaller, or perhaps a Willshaper. A corrupted version of a Radiant.
Renarin doesn’t like us to think of them that way, she thought with a wince, remembering her pain.
Well, it seemed she’d been wrong about the Ghostbloods having no experience with their abilities. Perhaps Iyatil had bonded a spren earlier than she’d assumed? She’d have to ask Sja-anat. For now, she held her bloodied side as Windrunners secured the room, several of them going after the Ghostbloods who had escaped.
“Shallan!” Darcira said, kneeling by her. Shallan hadn’t seen the other Lightweaver enter. “You’re hurt! How? You didn’t summon your armor?”
“Anti-Light,” Shallan said with a grunt. “I couldn’t afford to let it hit the armor—don’t know what it will do to the spren.” She grimaced. “The bolt went in too low to hit my lung, otherwise I’d be coughing blood all over the floor. Grazed between my ribs though—I can feel it.” Shallan braced herself. “Pull it out. It’s injecting anti-Stormlight.”
The other woman did so, and Shallan squeezed her eyes shut against the agony. She breathed in and out, shallow breaths to control the pain, and continued to feel that coldness in her veins. The anti-Light pulsed with a strange, off-key sound. Like the scrape of bone on rock. It faded slowly.
She opened her eyes and could see it evaporating from her skin, along with the painspren crawling around—several the wrong color. The anti-Light wisps soon vanished. Shallan waited a little longer, but she was getting light-headed. So at last she drew in a deep breath, filling herself with Stormlight. The power went to work immediately, and she didn’t explode, which was nice.
“We shouldn’t have sent you in alone,” Darcira said.
“Alone? Darcira, we both know my ego is big enough to count for between two and four people, depending on the day and my mood.” Shallan took a long, ragged breath, and when she breathed out, less Stormlight left her than it normally did. An elevated oath meant everything she did was more efficient: she healed better, Stormlight stayed longer, and she was less… porous to its escape.
Darcira pulled her bloodied handkerchief away from the wound. “At least that’s good conventional armor you have on, for leathers. Seems to have absorbed much of the force. At such close range, I’d have expected the bolt to go straight out the other side, but it barely punctured the armor on your back.”
“Perhaps it got lost,” Shallan said. “Take it from one who lives in here—my insides can be confusing.”
“No, really,” Darcira said. “I don’t think this is hogshide. It’s something else. Probably from… you know…”
Right. She was wearing the carcass of a beast from some other planet, its skin smoother and thicker than that of a hog. Storms. What a surreal realization. Shallan found her feet and wiped her hands on a cloth Jayn provided, as she and the other Lightweavers joined them from the trophy room.
“What took so long?” Shallan asked them. “Feels like forever since I gave the signal.”
“Erinor spoke to the stones,” Darcira said. “Got the impression there was a secret exit down into the chasms. We were just exploring it when you hit the signal—and suddenly people started fleeing that way.”
“We figured we’d grab them as they came out, while sending support to you,” Jayn said. “You must have frightened them something awful, Brightness. They came charging through without checking first!” She grimaced. “Sorry to let you get hit…”
“I took it intentionally,” Shallan said, feeling sturdy, even excited, now that she had Stormlight in her veins. Jayn held up her satchel, the shoulder strap tied haphazardly, the leather dimpled with Pattern, who apparently had followed her instructions and found the others. Shallan slung the satchel over her shoulder.
“Mmm…” Pattern said, moving onto her clothing. “I am very glad you did not get killed while I was not here. I should like to be there when you die. It is a thing friends do for friends.”
Shallan walked to the spot where Mraize and the others had vanished. Could she follow? Her powers had a strange relationship with Shadesmar. She’d always had trouble with this, from the first time she’d experimented in Kharbranth.
Or… no… that hadn’t been the first time…
As the other Radiants continued exploring—Shallan was particularly happy to have captured those trophies for study—she drew on the Stormlight to peek into another world, full of churning spheres and a cold sun. She held herself back and just looked, seeking…
Three people on a small boat pulled by mandras, heading for a nearby platform with massive spren overhead. Mraize, Iyatil, and Lieke. One tall figure, two short. They had planned this special means of escape, and were heading to Urithiru. Their cell here had suffered a terrible blow—but they’d already set something in motion with Dalinar. A plot to find Ba-Ado-Mishram, the Unmade.
She almost tried pulling herself all the way into Shadesmar, something she wasn’t supposed to be able to do with her powers—but which she’d done before regardless. Two bonds. Two spren. Storms, that explained some curious events in her past; instead of her pulling them into her realm, they pulled her somewhat into theirs.
She blinked, dismissing the vision. She shouldn’t face the Ghostbloods alone, but she had an idea about who to go to for help.
* * *
“So,” Lift said, gnawing the last remnants of meat from a bone, “that’s how you build an exploding chamber pot.”
Gavinor—the five-year-old son of King Elhokar, current heir to Alethkar—nodded solemnly. He was small for his age; people often thought he was much younger. Lift didn’t, as she’d known kids like him in orphanages. Kids who had seen too much.
The two of them sat on a table outside the room where Dalinar, Navani, and Wit were explaining something to Sebarial and Aladar. As they’d passed, Dalinar had specifically told her not to try to sneak in.
Storming Dalinar. Storming Wit and his storming stupid secrecy. Lift knew stuff. She coulda been inside, listening to the important talk.
At least nobody in here—the conference room for planning upcoming battles—kicked her out. She was Radiant, first Edgedancer they’d found, thank you very much. But she didn’t lead her order. That was starving Baramaz and her starving perfect teeth and short black hair that had just the right amount of curl. She smiled too much. Granted, Baramaz didn’t fall over as much when she used her powers. But Lift hardly fell over when she used her powers these days.
In a stroke of good luck, Sigzil walked by. She followed him with her eyes, absently lowering the bone from her lips.
“You often stare at that one, mistress,” Wyndle said, forming next to her as a pile of vines. He liked the changes in the tower, because they let him appear to anyone. These days he commonly made a funny-looking face to interact, one like his face on the other side. Full and round, with mustachios and gemstone eyes that looked like spectacles. He didn’t think it was funny-looking, of course. Pigs didn’t know they stank either.
“I don’t stare at him,” Lift said, watching the Azish Windrunner give orders to subordinates. So confident, yet so studious. Not a brute, like so many of the Alethi. He had thoughts. He was smart. Not so tall as to be intimidating, but tall enough to be striking.
“Pardon,” Wyndle said, “but you’re staring right now.”
“Do you think,” Lift said, “he likes poetry?”
“Who doesn’t?” Wyndle said. “Ooh, I’ve written seventeen poems about the delightful nature of Iriali footstools!”
“Shut up,” Lift said. “Gav. Do you think he likes poetry?”
“I… don’t know what that is,” Gav said.
“Yeah,” Lift said, still watching Sigzil. Then she added, “I don’t either.”
“What?” Wyndle said.
“It’s just a term I’ve heard girls say. Somethin’ about words’n’shit, right?”
Wyndle sighed. “Mistress, please don’t use such crude terminology.”
“That sword ardent does it.”
“Zahel is not a role model.” Wyndle drew himself up tall. “You are a Knight Radiant. A beacon of hope for all people. You should not be using vulgarities—besides, you’re not even using that word correctly. It doesn’t make sense in such a linguistic context.”
“That’s how he uses it,” she muttered. He talked strange sometimes. Weird and interesting.
Nobody had seen him since the attack on the tower though. Probably off sleeping somewhere. He was smart, that one. Always seemed to know when someone was gonna make him do something, so he got out of there quick.
Still, Lift probably should be a better role model. “Gav,” she said to the prince, “forget you heard me say that word.”
“Poetry?” he asked.
“Yeah. Sure. That’s the one. Bad word, that.”
Gav nodded solemnly. Yes, that kid was way too serious. She’d actively worked to befriend Gav this last year, after his rescue from Kholinar. Fortunately, he hadn’t been in the tower during the invasion; he’d been with his grandfather on campaign.
He didn’t say much. Lift had learned that sometimes to listen—and really hear people—you also had to be there when they didn’t talk.
Today though, he opened up more than usual. “Lift? Do you think Grampa and Gram… want me? Are they sad they have to take care of me?”
Lift didn’t put her arm around the kid, though she wanted to. He flinched when nonfamily did that, and you had to learn to see stuff like that. Hugs weren’t always for you.
But she did give him a nudge in the side. “They love you. Big folk is always busy, so sometimes they forget that we’re people an’ like to make choices too.”
He nodded, looking at the closed door across the room. “You sneak in where you’re not supposed to be.”
“Yup!”
“That’s wrong. You shouldn’t do that.”
“Gav,” she said, “sometimes you gotta do the things you ain’t supposed to do.”
“Why?”
“This world,” she said, “it’s fulla stuff that people think you ain’t supposed to do, but which is actually okay. It’s also full of stuff you really, really shouldn’t do. Nobody tells you which is which, so you gotta find the difference.”
“That’s hard.”
“Sure is,” she said, and eyed the vents on the wall.
“You gonna try again?” Gav asked. “Despite what he said?”
“Maybe,” Lift said. “You gotta be careful with Dalinar. He’s real old—like, old as mountains and shi… um… stuff. But somehow, he don’t know that there’s things a person should do that everyone says ain’t right. You know?”
Gav looked at her, baffled.
“Just trust me,” Lift said. “Oh! Hey, I remembered. Tower, you there?”
The tower spren appeared beside her as a column of light stretching between discs on the floor and ceiling. The spren liked Lift on account of her being awesome. Really strange that more people didn’t feel the same.
“What?” the Sibling said.
“You found my chicken yet?” Lift asked.
“There is no chicken meeting your description in my halls.”
“It’s here!” Lift said. “Look again. It’s red, and has a beak and feathers. And it says stuff. Like a person.”
“You’ve described it many times, Lift”.
“It was hurt an’ scared. They took it when I was inna cage. You gotta find it, so I can help it.”
The Sibling didn’t respond. Those awful people must have taken the chicken somewhere—that guy with the scar and too many smiles. Lift would find it. Next to her, Wyndle grew a vine and patted her on the back, which was nice.
Better, soon Drehy flew in to give a report. And Damnation, did he need a uniform that tight? Lift leaned to the side, so she could see better when he bent over the table with the maps. Damnation.
“That one?” Wyndle said. “He’s completely the opposite of Sigzil. Why do you stare at that one?”
“If you need to ask,” Lift said, “then you have no sense of taste whatsoever.”
“He’s married, you know.”
“Yeah,” she said, leaning farther to the side. “His husband’s hot too. Seems unfair. You’re hot, you can fly, and you have a hot husband? Windrunners, Wyndle, I’m tellin’ ya. Something’s up with them. You know, I ain’t never seen one o’ them run into a wall? Not even a small wall.”
“Wyndle,” Gav said softly, “do spren have families?”
“Why, yes they do, Your Highness!” Wyndle said. “Though we require only one parent, so many spren do not pair bond. But it’s also not uncommon for us to do so! Why, even formal marriage isn’t unheard of. I have a mother, who is a dear and kind soul who spends her time gardening shoes.”
Gav nodded, knees drawn up against his chest, staring at the ground. “My mother gave me to Voidbringers,” he said softly, “to be tormented and killed.”
Lift winced.
“I think she’s dead now,” Gav continued, his voice even softer. “They won’t tell me straight. I’m too young. But my father is dead. He was killed trying to rescue me…”
“It is…” Wyndle said. “I mean… I’m sorry.”
“He was very brave,” Gav whispered. “I don’t remember what he looked like, but he was very brave. He wanted me. He came to save me. Then he… then he was slain by the traitor, Vyre.”
“Hey,” Lift said, nudging him. “Hey.”
Gav looked at her.
She reached her hand toward him, two fingers out. He slowly did the same, locking his two fingers into hers. Their secret handshake. The secret was that secret handshakes were stupid, but sometimes you used them anyway. Mostly for making scared friends feel like they belonged.
“You’ve got a place now,” she said. “Remember.”
He nodded. He’d need more reminders. Just like she did sometimes.
“Oh, yes!” Wyndle said. “You have grandparents who love you!”
“Grampa was going to play swords with me today,” Gav said, wiping his nose.
“Yes, well,” Wyndle said, “the world is kind of in the middle of ending. Takes precedence, I should imagine.”
“I’m gonna learn,” Gav said, a small angerspren pooling beneath him, like bubbling blood. “How to use a Shardblade. How to fight. Then I’m gonna find everyone who hurt my father, and I’m going to kill them. I’m gonna make their eyes burn out and then, when they’re dead, I’ll chop them to pieces.”
He looked to Lift, then glanced back down, ashamed.
“Yeah, all right,” she said. “I’ll hold them for you. Deal?”
He looked at her again, and finally—for the first time today—smiled. Yeah, revenge wasn’t gonna be as fun as he thought, and he probably needed to let go of it. But he was five. Right now he needed a friend, not someone else telling him to be mature.
Besides. Maturity stank. She resisted the urge to scratch at her wrap, which she wore bound around her chest. Then Sigzil walked past again, and she absently pulled another rib from her pocket and started chewing on it as she watched.
“How can you not want to grow up,” Wyndle said, “and still spend half your days ogling men? Don’t you see the contradiction?”
“No,” she said. “Don’t be stupid.”
“But your interest in men is obviously a manifestation of your advancement toward adulthood. You don’t seem to mind that, but you hate the secondary sex characteristics manifesting—”
“Hey Tower,” Lift said.
Again the little dancing column of light appeared—though she knew it would be invisible to other humans. Lift saw into the other realm a little. Something related to what had happened to her when she’d gone to the Nightwatcher, that lying liar who didn’t keep her promises.
“Yes?” the Sibling said.
“Are all cultivationspren like this?” Lift asked. “Or did I get stuck with the druff?”
“What is a druff?”
“Him.”
“There is great variety in the personalities of all spren, Lift,” the Sibling said. “So I’d have to say you got stuck with a druff. Whatever that is.”
She grunted, eyeing Wyndle.
“I like being a druff,” he said, chin out—though he didn’t really have a body, just vines and a head. “You’re lucky. You think just any spren would put up with your abuse?”
“It ain’t abuse,” Lift muttered. “It’s teasing.”
“You should feel grateful,” the tower said. “Wyndle is correct. Relatively few humans are chosen for the privilege of a Radiant bond.”
“Ah, what do you know?” she said. “You’re a building.”
“And?” the tower said.
“And people fart in you. Like all the time. I bet half the people in this room are doing it right now.”
“You realize,” the tower said, “you are host to millions of life-forms. They exist in your gut, on your skin, all over you.”
“What?” Lift said.
“Oh!” Wyndle said. “I’ve heard of this. Germs, yes! Wisdom of the Heralds. People with very detailed and specific life sense can feel them, I’m told! Millions upon millions of tiny creatures living on the skin of humans.”
“They particularly like the hair follicles,” the tower said. “I can feel them on you, Lift.”
Lift stared at her hands, aghast.
“And yes”, the Sibling added, “they live their entire lives there. Eating your dead skin flakes. Defecating on you. You are a tower like me, Lift. Every human is.”
“That is the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.” She looked to Gav. “Hey Gav. Did you know we have millions of tiny creatures living on us?”
“Gross!”
“I know! Awesome.”
“You were just saying,” the tower told her, “that I’m not worth listening to because I’m filled with things that fart!”
“And?” Lift said.
“And you are too! So nobody should listen to you either!”
“Gav,” Lift said. “Should anyone listen to us when we say things? About important stuff, I mean.”
“Of course not,” Gav said. “We’re kids.”
Lift looked to the glowing column of light and shrugged.
“I honestly have no idea why I started talking to you,” the tower said.
“It’s because you sensed Cultivation’s touch on her,” Wyndle said, completely missing the context of the tower’s complaint. As usual. What a druff.
But… well…
He did put up with her. Storms only knew she wouldn’t want to have to do that.
“Hey,” she said to Wyndle. “Thanks.”
“What for?” he asked, frowning at her.
She put out her hand, two fingers out and crooked, like a claw. He regarded it, then opened his eyes wide in shock. Trembling, he formed a hand from vines and met hers.
“I get the secret handshake?” he whispered.
“Just don’t go sharin’ it,” she said.
“It must remain special,” Gav added.
“I… I’m honored,” Wyndle said.
Finally, at long last, the door into the other room opened. Wit, Dalinar, and Navani strode out—and headed straight for the lifts, determined expressions on their faces. Behind them, Aladar and Sebarial looked seriously disturbed.
Damnation. They’d decided something important.
“Grampa?” Gav said, standing up on the table. “We can play swords?”
Dalinar stopped amid generals and scholars. “There is something more I need to do, son. I’m sorry.”
Gav wilted like a plant with no water. He slumped back down on the table, drawing a long grey streamer of a gloomspren—and bearing the kind of expression no secret handshake could fix.
“You can come in the lift with us, Gav,” Navani said. “Spend a little time together. Come along.”
Eager, the boy hopped down and rushed over. The nursemaid joined them—she’d been helping herself to snacks, falsely assuming she could trust Gav with a Radiant. Lift fished the last pork rib from her pocket, eyeing the group as they left.
“Gram,” Gav said on the way, “what’s ‘shit’ mean?”
Lift winced. Maybe… maybe teaching the crown prince to cuss hadn’t been her smartest move. Secretly deep down, she was a bit of a druff, wasn’t she?
“I’m impressed, mistress,” Wyndle said. “You didn’t demand to go with them!”
“I’m feelin’ kinda grown-up today,” Lift said. “On account of my good manners and full stomach.”
Wyndle nodded, satisfied. He glanced at her. Then he frowned. “You’re… going to follow them, aren’t you?”
“Storming right I am,” Lift said, hopping down. “I mean, I need more snacks, so I was planning to get up anyway…”
Chapter 30: Not Alone
As I fear not the child with a weapon he cannot lift, I will never fear the mind of a man who does not think.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
A part of Renarin missed the way the tower had been before. It was a silly emotion, but he seemed to feel a lot of those. More than other people.
The tower was far better now. Yet out in the fields—which were on large stone wafers that sprouted from the mountainside around the base of the tower—he found himself displeased. The air was humid, soft, and muggy when it had once been chill and sharp. Renarin passed row upon row of lavis polyps. Even after a few days, the transformation was visible; this row was an inch larger than it had been yesterday.
He squatted down. At this rate, the farmers said they’d be able to bring in crops every two months. Suddenly it was clear how the vast tower fed its potentially hundreds of thousands of occupants. The air was so wet he felt he was swimming, his uniform jacket uncomfortable. Yet a dozen yards away, closer to the tower, the air was a steady comfortable temperature.
It all felt… too easy.
Silly thoughts, he told himself again, standing up straight. For a silly man. He looked across the field to Rlain, who was chatting with several human farmers. Rlain had spent months toiling to teach the humans how to use Stormlight and song to grow plants. Suddenly that work was unnecessary.
Three days after defending the tower—and the humans in it, against his own kind—Rlain was back here, checking on the fields. He’d told Renarin that since the Sibling’s awakening, the rhythms became harder to hear the longer he spent inside the tower, so he preferred it out here. Although people side-eyed him, although he’d been called a shellhead, he was here making certain the very people who distrusted him wouldn’t starve.
He stood tall—almost as tall as Kaladin, and several inches taller than Renarin—with black skin marbled with red. He had a thick neck and strong jaw, outlined by a short red-and-black beard. He pointed, encouraging the farmers to grow a line of sugarbark between the lavis and the tubers, which needed standing water to sprout down into. A natural bit of shoring up, should the ponds overflow—plus something to do with the way the cremlings pollinated different crops. These were listener strains, cultivated on the Shattered Plains, and Rlain knew their intricacies.
Rlain suddenly turned and waved toward the sky. Renarin followed the gesture to see a Windrunner approaching. Lanky Drehy landed nearby, and gave Rlain a wave back, though he trotted over to Renarin. “Hey,” he said. “Meeting is on break. Your aunt asked me to bring you a report.”
“Thank you,” Renarin said softly.
Of course she’d send a report. She still hoped, as Dalinar did, that Renarin would change his mind and agree to be king of Urithiru should his father fall. Barring that, they wanted him to be Jasnah’s heir until Gav was of age. Though Jasnah would ensure an elected official took her place, they thought Alethkar should have a monarch, even if they didn’t have absolute power.
Drehy delivered a quick, affable report on the meetings. Renarin found his mind drifting, and he kept glancing at Rlain.
You will need this information, Glys said in his mind. You will pay attention?
I will, Renarin sent. Though not all spren and Radiants could communicate directly by thoughts, he and Glys were increasingly intertwined. Renarin didn’t mind that Glys felt what he did. It was a challenge sometimes, figuring out what people meant or wanted from him—and having another perspective, no matter how alien, was helpful.
After the report, Drehy lingered, and Renarin started to sweat more in his jacket. This was the part of conversations he always had trouble with. He’d already said thank you. Should he try small talk? How should this end? Everyone else seemed to know what to do—they flowed in and out of conversations like eels in a shared current.
Renarin was the rock in that current.
“So,” Drehy said, settling back against one of the stone workstations that were scattered through the fields, “want to talk about it?”
It? Renarin’s panic grew. What “it”? Was he supposed to know what this particular “it” was?
I do not know, Glys said, equally worried. Is it us, maybe? They will always be afraid of us, I fear.
“The way you look at Rlain,” Drehy said in response to Renarin’s apparent confusion.
“Oh, that,” Renarin said, relaxing. It was an embarrassing topic, but at least now he knew what the topic was. “Is it… um… obvious?”
“You learn to watch for guys who watch other guys,” Drehy said, shrugging. “I don’t want to pry. It’s nobody’s business. Just wanted you to know I’m here, should you want to talk.”
“It’s silly,” Renarin said, glancing down, blushing. “He’s not even human.”
“I say it’s better to think of everyone as people. Human. Listener. Spren. All people. Even if some of them glow and are annoying.”
“Point,” Drehy’s spren—Talla—said, appearing between them. She always took the fluttering shape of a blue chicken. “I’m not annoying. I’m habitually right. You simply have serious trouble equating one with the other, Drehy.”
“Point,” Drehy said, “being right can be annoying. Habitual or not. The two are not mutually exclusive.”
Renarin let himself smile, hesitant. Drehy, like the other members of Bridge Four, treated him as one of them, awkward or not. To them, he was… well, he was a person.
“I… don’t know what to do,” Renarin said. “About Rlain. About any of this. Aunt Navani won’t be happy. She wants grandchildren. And… um… likes people to be normal.”
“You are normal,” Drehy said. “Or rather, nobody is normal. Normal doesn’t exist. So if we slavishly try to dress ourselves to imitate it, all we’re really doing is becoming a different kind of abnormal—a miserable kind.”
Renarin looked down.
“What do you want, Renarin?” Drehy asked. “Not what your aunt, or your father, or anyone else wants. What do you want?”
“Maybe what I want,” he said, “is for my aunt, and my father, and everyone else to be happy.”
Drehy shrugged.
Storms. How to interpret that?
“Could you… um…” Renarin said, “just say what you mean, please? I’m confused.”
“Sorry,” Drehy said. “I forget sometimes. Renarin, I’m not going to tell you what to be. I’m not going to tell you when, or if, you have to tell anyone. You live your life how you want. I’ve known some who would prefer to pretend they aren’t different. Doesn’t seem to work often, but it’s their right. All I’m saying is if you have questions, I might have answers. Not ultimate answers. Maybe not even correct answers. Just the answers of one man who’s been in your shoes.”
Renarin felt an odd peace at hearing that—odd because his anxiety did not go away. It never really did, but it was nice to have a sense of peace alongside it. Once in a while.
So… dared he ask?
“Um…” Renarin said. “What if… you know… he…?”
“Prefers women?”
Renarin nodded.
“Then move on,” Drehy said. “Look, I’ll be honest. It happens. Nobody’s sense for these things is perfect, and if you ask, sometimes it embarrasses people. But trust me, in the long run it’s better to ask, and deal with it if you’re wrong.”
“I don’t think I could do that,” Renarin said, blushing.
Drehy took a long, deep breath, but didn’t contradict him. He seemed to mean what he’d said earlier—he wasn’t intending to lecture.
“It’s silly,” Renarin said. “Listeners don’t even court like we do.”
“They often bond, two people for life. They do it differently, but what did I say earlier?”
“There is no such thing as normal.”
“Everyone’s got to figure it out for themselves,” Drehy said. “I’ll tell you this though, Rlain said a few things at stew one night about being in mateform and being hugely embarrassed… I think it’s going to turn out all right, Renarin. If you’re willing to try.”
“I can’t,” Renarin said, his head still down. “I really, really can’t.”
Drehy moved as if to pat Renarin on the shoulder in a way that would have comforted someone else. He paused though, then gave Renarin an encouraging gesture. Bless him, he listened. He knew that Renarin didn’t like to be touched. Though Renarin would have been fine with it in this case—he liked some physical contact on his own terms, but he didn’t like being surprised—the more important thing was that Drehy had listened. He actually cared. Renarin found himself smiling.
“You can do this,” Drehy said. “If you don’t want to, that’s all right. But Renarin, I know you walked onto a battlefield at Thaylen Field determined to make a stand against overwhelming odds all by yourself. I know you struggled with visions of the future and sorted through them, bringing messages to your father. I know you can carry a great weight, my friend. You’ve done it already.” He smiled, then drew in Stormlight and lifted into the air. “Like I said, just one man’s experiences. Bridge Four stew tonight. You coming?”
“Who’s cooking?”
“Does it matter?”
“Determines whether I eat first,” Renarin said, smiling.
“It’s me.”
“Then I’ll come hungry,” Renarin said. “Thank you, Drehy.”
“When you have questions, ask,” he said, and soared back up to rejoin the meeting.
Renarin turned toward Rlain. But then the sky darkened and the air went black as the world became stained glass. Glys pulsed within him.
They had entered a vision of what might come. And this one did not look pleasant.
* * *
Rlain had found his perfect form. Or rather, every form could be perfect for him now.
In the past, workform had been his favorite for its versatility. It also left his mind the clearest—the most him. But it didn’t have the height he’d come to appreciate in warform—nor the strength of arm or the armored carapace. He liked the way he looked in warform, and it felt the most like him on the outside. Unfortunately, it made him a little too… eager to fight and obey. He could counteract both of these emotions, as a form did not control you. But it did subtly change the way you thought.
It turned out that being Radiant let him counteract that even more fully. He held up his finger as an awespren—a floating blue ball—alighted on it. This one was invisible to the human farmers who were discussing his advice. Bonded to Tumi, he felt like himself inside regardless of form.
Tumi thrummed to the Rhythm of Joy within him, and Rlain complemented it with a harmony, attuned but different. Tumi rarely spoke, but it didn’t take words to understand his spren. The rhythms could do it.
Tumi’s rhythm changed to Anxiety. Rlain turned toward Renarin—he hadn’t seen the young man approaching until Drehy had arrived, but it had seemed the two had something to talk about, perhaps politics from above. Rlain had left them alone.
Now Renarin was encased in a shimmering distortion in the air. Was something wrong?
Curiosity from Tumi. Rlain attuned the same, hesitant, and knew Tumi thought the humans wouldn’t see what was happening to Renarin. It took a stronger Connection to the realms.
“A vision,” Rlain said. “That’s one of his visions?”
The awespren swelled, drawing the attention of the farmers, who saw it as a ring of expanding smoke. Rlain let the awespren hop away, then excused himself and walked across rows of plants to Renarin, who appeared to be staring at nothing. Dared he intervene?
Tumi counseled boldness, so Rlain stepped forward. In a snap—like the sudden strike of a drum—he was inside the vision. The sky was black, and darkness surrounded them like one might dim the other lights in a room to inspect a single glowing gemstone. From the ground rose exquisite windows made as if from colorful glass.
“They’re beautiful,” Rlain noted. “Seems like a very human manifestation though. I wonder why Tumi and Glys show us them in this form. Is it their doing, or ours, or some combination?”
Renarin turned to him looking shocked, then excited. “Rlain!” he said. “You can see them?”
Rlain nodded. “I’d hoped I’d be able to see your visions, with my own spren. Is this…” He trailed off.
Renarin was crying.
“Renarin?” he said to Despair. “What’s wrong? Did I intrude? Should I leave?”
He turned to go, but Renarin grabbed his hand. Which was surprising, from Renarin.
“I have spent,” Renarin whispered, “what feels like an eternity alone with these visions. From the days where I crept on the floor and scrawled numbers, to the day when I realized my family’s love could overcome a dark future. To a few days ago, when I heard you’d bonded a spren. Now… I’m not alone.”
Renarin pulled him along the line of stained glass windows, which stood upright with nothing to support them. Rlain followed, genuinely intrigued, but also because Renarin had always tried so hard to make Rlain feel included. Rlain respected the other members of Bridge Four, Kaladin in particular, but there was something special about Renarin. When Rlain had been alone, rejected by the spren, Renarin had been the one to comfort him.
That moment had convinced Rlain that even if it was hard, there could be a place for him among the humans. He had never fit in anywhere until he’d found Bridge Four. They hadn’t always been perfect—far from it—but they’d proved willing to work to make a place for Rlain, Renarin working hardest of all.
“So what do we do?” Rlain asked, joining Renarin at what seemed the first of the windows.
“I don’t know,” Renarin said. “But remember. Remember it can be lies.”
“Why pay attention if it could all be lies?”
“Because truth is just the lie that happened,” Renarin said.
Rlain attuned Skepticism. “That… doesn’t make sense.”
Renarin stepped up to one of the windows, and Glys—his spren—separated from him, floating up in the air by his head in the shape of a shimmering red lattice, with beads of light “dripping” from the top and vanishing into the sky. The window depicted Renarin sitting on a throne. He wore some kind of archaic outfit, a little like the fencing attire people wore on the Alethi training grounds, with the skirts.
“This is Kholinar,” Renarin said, “but it’s not the throne room. That looks like my room. See, those are my models on that shelf.”
“Models?”
“Wooden carvings of creatures,” Renarin explained. “You paint them to be lifelike.” He blushed. “I mostly bought knights instead of animals. I needed something to do with my time when Adolin was training. And here, those are my books. I’d spend a few hours each day having them read to me.”
“Such knowledge,” Rlain said. “So much at your fingertips. No wonder you know so much.”
Renarin blushed again.
“What?” Rlain asked to Reconciliation. Had he said something wrong?
“Those aren’t books full of facts or learning,” Renarin admitted. “They’re adventure stories, the kind written for young women. I had a whole collection, much to Father’s embarrassment.”
“Renarin,” Rlain said, “I have seen how your father treats you. He’s not embarrassed of you.”
“He was when I was young,” Renarin said. “But he was wrong back then, wasn’t he?”
They studied the image a little longer before Rlain picked out the detail that was bothering him. “Renarin, I think that is singer clothing you’re wearing.” He pointed at the folds of cloth, noting how they draped the body. The coloring… the patterns…
“Are you sure?” Renarin asked.
“No,” Rlain said, “but I did see a lot of their clothing in the tower these last few weeks. It looks the same.”
“Lies,” Renarin said softly. “Each picture here shows only one of several likely outcomes. I asked Wit, and he says it’s the way of things—no one actually knows the future, not even the gods.”
“But one possibility will become true,” Rlain said. “That’s what you meant earlier.”
Renarin nodded, always so solemn. Thoughtful. “We should study the other windows before they vanish.”
“Do we know why they appear?” Rlain said. “What determines when we see one of these, and which… possibility is depicted?”
“I haven’t been able to figure that out,” Renarin said. “Not fully. Though Glys says…”
“Swells,” Glys said. “There are swells in the rhythms of Roshar. Currents, and old gods, will watch.”
“Old gods,” Rlain said as Tumi, in his gemheart, changed to the Rhythm of the Lost. “The Unmade?”
“Older,” Glys said. “Older still than Honor, Cultivation, and Odium.”
“What’s older than them?” Rlain asked, glancing at Renarin. “Even the Old Magic, as you call it, is a spren of Cultivation.”
“When Honor and Cultivation came to Roshar,” Glys said, “deep within the days beyond memory, times as dark to history as the depths of the ocean are to light, you—Rlain—were already here. Your people.”
Rlain attuned the Rhythm of the Winds, for something as old as those distant years. Humans had come to Roshar long ago—and brought Odium with them. He had been their god, who had accepted the loyalty of the ancient singers after Honor betrayed them. Rlain hadn’t put together the deeper truth: that even Honor and Cultivation had come to Roshar and found the singers.
“Long ago, before any of them arrived,” Rlain said, “did we have forms? Were there spren?”
“I do not know,” Glys said. “I see ahead, not back. You will seek answers from those more ancient than I. The Bondsmith sees backward. Always, his eyes are toward what happened.”
“Jasnah too,” Renarin said softly. “She knows the past better than any.” He turned along the hallway of windows. “But we look forward…”
Rlain joined him, each of their steps crinkling as if on black glass at their feet, as they continued along the stained glass windows that rose on both sides, making a tunnel of light. The windows were the same on both the right and the left: Renarin on a throne, followed by a dark and building storm. Rlain knew that one. The Everstorm, which passed by every nine days. It was easy to forget about in Urithiru, which was usually above both storms, but others brought reports. Lightning strikes. Thunder. Generally less destruction than the highstorm, but a feeling of malevolence and something watching, biding its time. Preparing.
Why would there be a window depicting the storm? It had already arrived. Rlain hummed to Confusion. And Renarin, strangely, did as well? Or he tried. He glanced at Rlain and tried to imitate his humming. Renarin’s attempt was off-rhythm and too loud, like a child sounding out a word that was too big for them. But… Rlain had never heard a human even try before.
“Any idea why this is here?” Rlain asked him.
“No,” Renarin replied. “Sometimes the windows are just like this—nothing relevant that I can make out at all.”
The next depicted some kind of clifftop overlook, with Dalinar standing in front of a glowing golden figure. In the distance, a city was collapsing into a spreading pit. Though the image was static, he felt motion to it somehow. As if that city were constantly crumbling into that pit.
“I recognize this,” Renarin said. “From my aunt’s notes—when she wrote out my father’s visions. This was… the first vision? Or the last one? He stood on a cliff and watched our homeland crumble.”
“Which… has also already happened,” Rlain said to Consideration. “Are we sure these show the future?”
“They will,” Glys promised. “They will.”
Maybe, Tumi added by a thrumming from within him. Only maybe.
The fourth window was, strangely, a bright green field with distant figures standing in it. The grass didn’t flee from them, so perhaps they’d been standing there a long time. He counted… twelve? He looked to Renarin, who reached up and rested a hand beside the window.
“Peace,” Renarin said. “I feel peace from this one… Who are they, do you suppose?” He tried humming to Confusion, poorly, but Rlain could kind of tell what he meant.
“Humans,” Rlain said. “They’re all human, I think. This one might be a Horneater, and this one Makabaki… And this one—what are those humans with the blue skin?”
“Those are the Natans,” Renarin said. “Unless you’re talking about the Aimians, who aren’t humans, but neither are quite as blue as the woman in this picture.” He hesitated, squinting at the distant woman in a vivid blue skirt, with white hair and blue skin. “Does this mean anything to you?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
Renarin sighed. “They seem to be getting more vague.” He closed his eyes. “Is that last one still there, at the end?”
Rlain gazed past Renarin toward the “end” of their hallway—and was surprised to see a window there, shadowed in the darkness. No light shone through it, so he’d missed it.
“What is that?” Rlain said, walking closer. It depicted only a face. A simple face with intricate patterns, black and red swirling. A singer, femalen, against a black background, etched in glass. Staring at him.
Then it moved.
Rlain jumped. In fits and jumps the image split, multiple versions of the face moving, raging, the eyes going wide, the Rhythm of Agony shaking the frame. Windows around them cracked, but the one in the center kept vibrating. Her face shuddering back and forth, then her hands against the edges of the window, curling, bulging out—as if trying to break free.
Renarin screamed as the windows to the left and right shattered, exposing a dark wasteland. New windows grew up like vines, crystallizing and exploding, leaving jagged stumps—but before they broke, Rlain could pick out images. Burning cities. Broken bodies.
Above it all a rising Rhythm of Agony, with the femalen singer’s words echoing to the sound. I will break it. I will break IT ALL.
Renarin seized him and somehow pulled him out of the darkness. Just one step, and it was gone. They were once more on the fields in the hot air, surrounded by confused farmers.
Rlain fell to his hands and knees, carapace kneecaps grinding stone, sweat pooling under his collar at the edges of his skull carapace and streaming down his face. Renarin collapsed beside him, trembling.
“Is that… how it normally goes?” Rlain asked.
“That was something new. Did you recognize the face?”
“No, but the rhythm was Agony,” Rlain said. He took a deep breath. “It’s one of the new rhythms. That people can only access when they are Regal or Fused.”
Renarin closed his eyes. “Welcome to the fun, I suppose.”
“You said this was something new!” Rlain said to Betrayal. “Implying it’s not like this all the time!”
“Yes, but it’s always something new. So you get used to not being used to anything. Ever again.”
“Delightful,” Rlain said, flopping onto his back, deliberately attuning Peace and counting the movements of the rhythm to calm himself.
“Sorry,” Renarin eventually said, sitting up. “For dragging you into this.”
“I wanted a spren,” Rlain said. “I asked for it.”
“You wanted to fly,” Renarin said. “Like the others.”
“I’m a listener, Renarin,” Rlain said. “I don’t ever do things the way everyone else does.” He took another long, deep breath. “This seems more useful than flying. Assuming we can make any sense of it.”
Renarin nodded, and then smiled. Humans were often overly expressive with their faces, so it might be nothing. But Rlain asked anyway. “Is something funny?”
“Still just happy,” Renarin said, “not to be the only one.”
Rlain hummed to Appreciation before remembering that wouldn’t mean anything to a human. He kept forgetting, even after two years among them. Before he could explain himself, however, a shadow fell on him. He tipped his head back to see Shallan, hands on her hips, wearing some kind of armorlike leather outfit, a white coat, and a matching hat.
“Resting?” she said. “Eight days until the fate of the world is decided, and you two are napping in a field?”
Rlain hummed to Irritation. Sometimes it was good humans didn’t understand, because in singer company, that would have been rude.
“Come on,” she said. “I legitimately need your help.”
“What is the problem?” Renarin said, standing.
“It involves your father,” Shallan said, “the Spiritual Realm, and a group of people who are trying to find the prison of an ancient, evil spren. Ba-Ado-Mishram. You know that one?”
Mishram.
Yes, Rlain did know that name. She had ruled the singers long ago—a spren who had wanted to perpetuate the fighting after the Fused left. The one who had been determined to exterminate humankind, escalating the war.
She was the reason Rlain’s people had abandoned their forms and left. She was the queen of the gods they had forsaken.
And he suspected he’d just seen her face in the vision.
Happy Monday, Sanderfans! It’s time, once more, for another Wind and Truth preview chapter discussion! Last week saw more of Szeth’s flashback! It’s so interesting, and heart-wrenching, to observe young Szeth and how he’s an absolutely different person than the Szeth we know. But it’s kind of cool how the flashbacks are unfolding through Szeth telling Kaladin of his childhood. What do you think of the flashbacks so far, and how they’re being presented, Sanderfans? We also got to witness Shallan charging into a room full of Ghostbloods while wearing Shardplate and wielding both a Shardblade and Shardshield—which is where we pick up the story this week! Today, we’re discussing chapters 29 and 30… so let’s dive in and see what Lyndsey, Drew, and myself have to say about these two chapters!
Oh, and be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly (likely) contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 28 is titled “Secret Handshakes” and opens with Shallan’s POV. She’s laying on the floor in the room that had recently been filled with Ghostbloods, gaping at the sudden disappearance of Mraize and Iyatil. Then she surmises that one of them must be an Elsecaller and they’ve just vanished into Shadesmar. Her crew rushes in; Darcira goes to her and pulls out the bolt at Shallan’s request. Once she feels that all of the anti-Stormlight has left her system, she breathes in some Stormlight and she heals. It’s nice to know that Pattern was happy she didn’t die without him there. He wants to be there when she dies because that’s what friends do for each other. I adore Pattern. He makes me laugh.
She takes a peek into Shadesmar and sees three people in a boat heading toward the Oathgate. Mraize and Iyatil had been prepared to flee, but also had to leave everything in their hideout behind. Shallan is happy to have captured Iyatil’s trophies, at least. She pulls back from looking into Shadesmar and decides not to take on the Ghostbloods alone. Knowing they have Radiant powers is enough to sway her decision. Though she does have an idea of who to ask for help. Maybe Dalinar? Renarin? Who do you think she’s going to go to, Sanderfans?
POV shift!
Next we see Lift and Gavinor, sitting outside the room where Dalinar, Navani, and Wit are meeting with Sebarial and Aladar. Gav is feeling down and Lift does her best to cheer him up. Wyndle is there, of course, and Lift calls to the Sibling to ask them questions, including if they’ve seen her red chicken. They haven’t. Gav asks if his grandparents want him, or are sad that they have to take care of him. ::owie feelings:: Lift ogles first Sigzil and then Drehy. Then she says “shit,” thus teaching Gav to swear. She also comforts him when he talks of his mother giving him to the Voidspren to torture and kill him. ::more owie feelings::
Gav talks of his father, who tried to save him but who was killed by the traitor Vyre. This surprised me… why would Gav know him as Vyre when everyone there refers to him as Moash? He says that he’ll kill everyone who ever hurt his father. He says he’ll kill them with a Shardblade and then cut them into tiny pieces. Lift says she’ll help because she feels as though he just needs someone to commiserate with and not to scold him. Gav is only five and just wants to play swords with Grampa, but I feel like there’s been a little too much swordplay in this little guy’s life. I know he went through hell with his mother, and with watching his father die… but I feel he could use a little Kaladin therapy rather than playing swords!
Dalinar and Navani come out of their meeting and Gav, again, asks to play swords. Dalinar begs off but Navani invites Gav to ride the lift with them. After he goes, Lift gets up and, though she was forbidden to sneak into the meeting, she says she’s going to follow them. Let’s see if she can sneak into another of Dalinar’s meetings!
Chapter 30 is titled “Not Alone” and it’s our first Renarin POV so far! He thinks of how he misses the way the tower used to be before the Sibling awoke. He doesn’t like how humid it is down in the lavis fields, though it’s more temperate nearer to the tower. He’s watching Rlain, who is talking to some humans about the crops and is joined by Drehy, who brings a message from Navani and who notices Renarin’s scrutiny of Rlain.
Drehy asks Renarin if he wants to talk about it, which nearly sends poor Renarin into a panic because he doesn’t know what “it” is. Then Drehy saves him by mentioning the way Renarin looks at Rlain. Renarin asks if it’s obvious and Drehy tells him that you learn to watch for guys who watch other guys, then reassures him that he’s there if Renarin wants to talk about it. It’s incredibly sweet, I think, that Drehy is offering answers to whatever questions that Renarin might have. Renarin is worried that Rlain might prefer women and even says that Rlain isn’t even human. Drehy basically says that he’s still a person and Renarin realizes that, despite his differences, Bridge Four still accepts him as one of them… as a person. It’s quite a touching moment.
Then Drehy departs and Rlain enters an unpleasant vision.
POV shift!
Rlain thinks about how he feels more himself in warform, and with Tumi as his spren, feels even more as he should. Then he notices Renarin “encased in a shimmering distortion in the air.” He realises that the humans won’t see it and asks Tumi if it’s one of Renarin’s visions.
Rlain joins Renarin in the vision, and this seems to make Renarin very happy; he feels he’s no longer alone with the visions if Rlain can see them, too. They study the windows in the vision, which show Renarin on a thrown, surrounded by his childhood possessions. Rlain notes that Renarin appears to be wearing singer clothing in the vision. Renarin reminds him that the visions can lie and Rlain questions their validity at all, if they can lie. One window also depicts the Everstorm, which Rlain finds odd as it had just passed.
Next they see Dalinar, standing at the edge of a cliff in front of a glowing, golden figure, who we must assume is Odium, yes? Renarin recognizes it as the first vision Dalinar was taken into. So I guess, not Odium.
The next window shows a green field where twelve people stand, and Renarin says he feels peace when looking at the scene. Here Renarin tries to hum to Confusion, much as he had tried to do moments before.
Then the last window, which depicts a femalen singer, just her face, and then she moves. Though Rlain and Renarin don’t know it, they’re looking at Mishram, who is furious, as she was when Shallan saw her in the bead ocean. Mishram seems to be trying to come out of the window.
Renarin screamed as the windows to the left and right shattered, exposing a dark wasteland. New windows grew up like vines, crystallizing and exploding, leaving jagged stumps—but before they broke, Rlain could pick out images. Burning cities. Broken bodies.
Above it all a rising Rhythm of Agony, with the femalen singer’s words echoing to the sound. I will break it. I will break IT ALL.
Yeah… that’s not terrifying at all.
Renarin pulls Rlain from the vision and they both collapse onto the ground. Renarin says that was a new thing to see in a vision, but that there is always something new. And that’s how Shallan finds them, seemingly lounging about, taking it easy. She announces she needs help, and that it involves people who are trying to find Ba-ado-Mishram.
Mishram. Yes, Rlain did know that name. She had ruled the singers long ago—a spren who had wanted to perpetuate the fighting after the Fused left. The one who had been determined to exterminate humankind, escalating the war.
She was the reason Rlain’s people had abandoned their forms and left. She was the queen of the gods they had forsaken.
And Rlain realizes that’s who they had probably just seen in the last vision.
Whew… that was an intense chapter, don’t you all think? Mishram is truly terrifying, and everyone just wants to go find her? I’ll pass, thanks! What do you think about the Rlain POV, Sanderfans? I think it’s pretty cool—we don’t get enough of him and it’s nice to see things from his perspective. At the same time, we don’t really see enough from Renarin’s perspective, either, and I wonder if we’ll start seeing more of both going forward… I was quite pleased about the Lift POV, as well, and hope we get to see more of her, too!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
I’ll be saving my comments on the snippets of The Way of Kings for the end of the part, once we see them all and get an idea of how they all fit together.
Chapter 29’s arch Herald is Vedeledev (Vedel), the patron of the Edgedancers. Her attributes are Loving/ Healing and her role is Healer. It’s pretty obvious as to why she’s here, as not only is this chapter primarily a Lift POV, but Lift is acting in accordance to her order’s Ideals to a T.
Chapter 30’s arch is Palah (Paliah), the patron of the Truthwatchers. Her attributes are Learned/Giving and her role is Scholar. Again, this one seems pretty obvious as both Rlain and Renarin are Truthwatchers, and we see an example of their powers in full force.
Shallan
Darcira, we both know my ego is big enough to count for between two and four people, depending on the day and my mood.
You know, it’s really nice to see Shallan’s self-deprecating humor. She recognizes that she has… shall we say issues, and uses them to make light of herself and put others at ease.
Lift
Lift had learned that sometimes to listen—and really hear people—you also had to be there when they didn’t talk.
She’s always been deceptively wise for her age, probably due to the trauma she’s endured. She’s also a very true-to-form Edgedancer. The Third ideal of the Edgedancers is “I will listen to those who have been ignored.”
Better, soon Drehy flew in to give a report. And Damnation, did he need a uniform that tight? Lift leaned to the side, so she could see better when he bent over the table with the maps.
Well, someone’s hit puberty for sure now. It’s nice to see Lift maturing, considering her previous wish to the Nightwatcher in Edgedancer (which, if you don’t recall, was “not to change”).
“You’ve got a place now,” she said. “Remember.”
He nodded. He’d need more reminders. Just like she did sometimes.
My heart absolutely aches for these two.
How can you not want to grow up,” Wyndle said, “and still spend half your days ogling men? Don’t you see the contradiction?
“No,” she said. “Don’t be stupid.”
“But your interest in men is obviously a maifestation of your advancement toward adulthood. You don’t seem to mind that, but you hate the secondary sex characteristics manifesting—”
I don’t think this has anything to do with gender dysphoria and has more to do with her fear of changing. Change is scary, especially to a child, so it makes sense that she’s trying to ignore the physical signs of her puberty while embracing the emotional side. Psychological changes are harder to ignore and suppress, after all.
Gavinor
Do you think Grampa and Gram… want me? Are they sad they have to take care of me?
Speaking of trauma… Oh, this poor, poor child. Not only was he held captive by his mother and tortured by spren for god knows how long, he then had to watch his own father be killed right in front of him (obligatory f*** Moash). I’m glad that he’s found a friend in Lift, because goodness knows this kid could use a friend, and particularly one who’s willing to listen to him and can sympathize with a little of what he’s been through.
I’m gonna find everyone who hurt my father, and I’m going to kill them. I’m gonna make their eyes burn out and then, when they’re dead, I’ll chop them to pieces.
Okay, well… you can’t really blame him. He’s still young enough to not understand the intricacies of warfare, and even if he was mature, there are adults who would say the exact same thing. Grief makes people think and do terrible things, especially when that grief is mixed with justifiable anger.
Rlain
Although people side-eyed him, although he’d been called a shellhead, he was here making certain the very people who distrusted him wouldn’t starve.
Rlain’s too good for the Alethi, I swear.
Renarin
It was a challenge sometimes, figuring out what people meant or wanted from him—and having another perspective, no matter how alien, was helpful.
Let this serve as your reminder that Renarin is on the autistism spectrum, as confirmed by Sanderson.
“The way you look at Rlain,” Drehy said in response to Renarin’s apparent confusion.
“Oh, that,” Renarin said, relaxing. It was an embarrassing topic, but at least now he knew what the topic was. “Is it… um… obvious?”
::confetti:: Yay! The ship has canonically sailed! (Context: Brandon had confirmed this in interviews and such for quite a while, but it’s never truly canon until it appears on the page.) I’m so happy to see this relationship starting in earnest and where it might potentially go. I think these two complement one another nicely, personality-wise. And Drehy’s discussion with Renarin on the subject is utter perfection. He’s being cognizant of Renarin’s needs in terms of both conversation and physicality, he’s providing a listening ear without judgment… the Windrunners really are stepping up into their roles as therapists as a whole. I guess Kaladin’s a good influence on them.
Renarin/Rlain
Rlain respected the other members of Bridge Four, Kaladin in particular, but there was something special about Renarin. When Rlain had been alone, rejected by the spren, Renarin had been the one to comfort him.
OoooooOOooooo he liiiiiiiikes him too!
Rlain hummed to Confusion. And Renarin, strangely, did as well? Or he tried. He glanced at Rlain and tried to imitate his humming. Renarin’s attempt was off-rhythm and too loud, like a child sounding out a word that was too big for them. But… Rlain had never heard a human even try before.
He’s trying to communicate the way Rlain does! A wonderful first step towards possibly initiating a relationship.
“I wanted a spren,” Rlain said. “I asked for it.”
I do love that they have the same kind of spren, so they can bond over this shared experience.
Kaladin/Syl
“I say it’s better to think of everyone as people. Human. Listener. Spren. All people. Even if some of them glow and are annoying.”
I just wanted to point out this little tidbit from Drehy, on the chance that it’s further justification of a potential Kal/Syl pairing.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
That had been […] them transferring to Shadesmar.
To lead off, Shallan identifies the action of Mraize and Iyatil as using Transportation, moving to the Cognitive Realm. This still leaves a question of which one used Transportation, and which Order they belong to—Elsecallers or Willshapers. We know that Sja-anat has Enlightened mistspren in the past, as well as inkspren such as those at the Kholinar Oathgate, so it’s very possible there are more Enlightened inkspren for Mraize and/or Iyatil to have bonded.
Another note of interest here, as Shallan uses her abilities as a Lightweaver to look into Shadesmar. She wonders whether her double bond to Pattern and Testament is what allowed her to fully enter Shadesmar back in The Way of Kings, in Kharbranth—but I’m not certain that timeline really fits. At the time, Pattern was only initially interested in her, not fully bonded. Perhaps, as with Bondsmiths, some of the rules have changed when it comes to Lightweavers.
And if so… Hoid may have just gained the ability to enter Shadesmar at will. I think he’d be very glad to have that particular ability, given his history of worldhopping and how annoyed he’s been at the state of travel between the Realms.
But let’s talk about anti-Light for a second here.
“I couldn’t afford to let it hit the armor—don’t know what it will do to the spren.”
Shallan dismisses her Plate and Cryptics, for fear of what would happen when Iyatil shoots the anti-Stormlight bolt. We’ve obviously seen anti-Light like this kill an honorspren, but it’s worth noting that Phendorana was not physically manifested as a weapon/metal at the time. Similarly, we haven’t seen anti-Light directly interact with Shardplate of any variety.
So: Would the anti-Light bolt have been deflected by either Shallan’s Plate or the Testament shield? If the head of the bolt simply bounced off the Shardplate or shield, would that contact be enough time to fully destroy the spren? I suspect that the state of the Investiture wouldn’t matter, and that the spren would be grievously wounded if not killed outright, depending on what kind of contact occurred.
But moving on to the first POVs of the book for Renarin and Rlain! While there’s a whole bunch of character development stuff here, which Lyn and Paige have already gone over, this scene is also interesting for both Investiture and theory reasons. As all Wheel of Time fans know, any time you have a vision of the future or prophecy at hand, it’s something to pay attention to.
The window depicted Renarin sitting on a throne. He wore some kind of archaic outfit, a little like the fencing attire people wore on the Alethi training grounds, with the skirts.
Given Renarin’s familial duties, and how he starts this chapter thinking about the hopes his family has for him, it’s no surprise that one of the visions indicates he could find himself on a throne. But the singer clothing? And it being in Kholinar, and in his own room? The loophole in the contract with Odium means that territories can change sooner than people assumed—but it would be one heck of a twist if the coalition managed to retake Alethkar before the tenth day.
On the other hand, this could be entirely metaphorical. Renarin is struggling with self-acceptance and understanding, as well as his feelings toward Rlain. Sitting regal on a throne in his childhood room, attired like Rlain’s people, could also indicate self-mastery. The vision is just vague enough to open up all sorts of possibilities.
The next two windows, showing the Everstorm and the vision we know so well from Dalinar, really feel like some Spiritual Realm timey-wimey stuff. They’ve already happened, but they’ll happen again—maybe. And Dalinar is about to head into the Spiritual Realm:
“The Bondsmith sees backward. Always, his eyes are toward what happened.”
This book is promising so many answers to ancient mysteries, to reveal long-held secrets.
The fourth window was, strangely, a bright green field with distant figures standing in it. […] He counted… twelve?
This one, emanating peace, is enticing. The green field sounds like Shinovar, with grass that doesn’t flee. But twelve people? That’s a strange number to be highlighted in a Stormlight book, where nine and ten are the prevailing Important Numbers. Even sixteen would make more sense. And they seem to be representative of many of the different cultures and races across Roshar:
“They’re all human, I think. This one might be a Horneater, and this one Makabaki…And this one—what are those humans with the blue skin?”
Maybe these are the Stone Shamans, with Szeth and Kaladin? Ten, one for each of the monasteries, and recruited from across Roshar? The Shin have been so secretive for all this time, but despite that the Stone Shamans have held a certain aura. Carrying the Honorblades is a big deal, after all.
If Kaladin and Szeth could band together with them all, unravel the insanity of Ishar, and cleanse Shinovar…that could be the peace Renarin and Rlain are feeling.
And finally, most ominously:
A simple face with intricate patterns, black and red swirling. A singer, femalen, against a black background, etched in glass. Staring at him.
It sure seems like Ba-Ado-Mishram is resting unquietly in her prison, eh?
Fan Theories
Not a fully fledged theory, but a comment we got a kick out of: Lofty! on Discord said, “It was a rock that started Szeth’s problems, and hopefully it will be Rock who paves a way to end it.”
Over on Reactor, Lock says, “I wonder if using the capitalised words “Stone”, “Winds”, and “Nights” in the first three paragraphs was intentional or if I’m just going crazy trying to find patterns and foreshadowing” and “the coincidence of using all of them in ways that they gramatically makes sense with capitals within a hundred words? And specifically the three Old Magic spren mentioned together like 5 chapters ago? I am probably insane, but it is weird if it was accidental. (I assume at least the Wind mention is intentional because it’s been associated with Szeth before).”
And Stoneward has theories about both Kaladin and Adolin: “I have a crazy theory that is kind of proved by this whole book so far. When I finished book four, I thought that Kaladin would go to Shinovar and become Honor. I know it is kind of hyping up dalinar, but I do not think it is him. Kaladin fulfills the vessel of honor much better than dalinar. He is called son of tanavast by the stormfather. He is literally sacrificing himself to help save everyone else. That is honorable. Second crazy theory. Adolin is going to be Odium’s champion. His passionate anger shown in the duels against other shardbearers, and his murdering of Sadeas shows his rage. He also in book four was angry at his father, and was rebelling against everyone else. His anger against Dalinar really shows this. He hates his father, up to the point of irrationality. I also think that Dalinar is going to lose the contest to Adolin. Odium was trying to find a person who would cause a big blow morally, and that will be Adolin. I am excited for all of your thoughts.”
Finally, Avlost17 talks about Taln: “I wonder if there could be some link to whatever is darkening Taln’s shaman house and his diminished mental capacity. So we’ve seen small lucid moments from him. Maybe it’s not just from millenia of torture.”
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapters 31 and 32![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 31: Experiment
So think, my dear reader. As a soldier retreats from a battle he cannot win. As a woman rejects a home that shows her only violence. As a family finds hope in walking away from dying fields during a season of too much rain.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Shallan had brought some of the Windrunners from the raiding party, so she, Renarin, and Rlain quickly reached the Oathgates. From there, Shallan sent one Windrunner to find Dalinar and Navani to explain, as she worried her spanreed message hadn’t been received.
She then brought the group into Shadesmar via Oathgate. Mraize and Iyatil were on the move; she needed to be too. On the other side—with Testament and Pattern appearing in full-sized form next to her—Shallan got her first sight of the tower there, after its awakening.
It was brilliant.
Before, the tower had manifested as a shimmer of light, but now that light had coalesced—like false dawn becoming true sunlight. It formed a tower that was a clone of the one in the Physical Realm, but as if created from glowing glass. A sphere infused, but on the scale of a mountain.
Though the light did not overpower her, her eyes watered, trying to take in the entire structure. It glowed with the fractured variety of a thousand colors—an artist’s bounty of effulgent shades. Changing, each moment a different hue, as if the tower were too exuberant, too joyous and alive to be confined to mere color.
It was magnetic, taking not only her breath and attention, but her soul and mind, which longed to just once create something so beautiful. It was the pinnacle of all artistry. This was the height to which creations could rise. This was what you could… could…
Do you need me to take control? Radiant asked.
Please! Shallan said, tears in her eyes.
Radiant took a deep breath, acknowledged the pretty tower, and moved on. Two Windrunners—Isasik and Breteh—waited in here with their spren and their squires. Together, the group was chatting with the Shadesmar guards. Though she’d left the bulk of her strike force to watch the captives, she’d sent these Windrunners on ahead to try to see if they could find Mraize and Iyatil while Shallan fetched Renarin.
They didn’t seem to have learned anything, judging by their postures as they talked with the three guards that were posted on this side just in case. Radiant looked around, hoping for some sign of the Ghostbloods. Here near the tower, the ten Oathgates manifested as tall pillars—each with its own set of lofty inkspren. Ramps ringed each pillar, spiraling down to the beads far below. With the restoration of the Sibling, glowing walkways had appeared connecting the pillars, as well as leading to the tower itself, which now stood upon a large glowing platform of its own.
Seeing nothing amiss, she trotted to the Windrunners on one of the walkways.
“Brightness,” Isasik the Windrunner said. This wasn’t the cartographer, but the other Isasik: a shorter man with an excitable demeanor. Both he and Breteh were former bridgemen from Bridge Thirteen, the group that had become Teft’s squires. She thought that was why they wore red glyphwards on their arms—something about a pact relating to Moash and vengeance.
Radiant appreciated their regard for a fallen companion. Over time, tower soldiers had moved away from wearing Kholin blue, and toward a uniform representing their new kingdom. It appeared white uniforms with gold trim had finally been settled upon, as it was one of the distinctive color combinations that wasn’t associated with an Alethi or Veden princedom.
“We did a sweep of the area and found no sign of the fugitives,” Breteh said, hovering a few feet off the ground. “The guards haven’t seen them either.”
“We’ve been posted here all day,” said a guard with a faint Bavland accent he was obviously trying to mask. “Nobody transferred in until these Windrunners arrived.”
Radiant folded her arms, thoughtful. Around her feet, a collection of beads gathered and bounced up and down. “Other Shallan!” they said. The Windrunners seemed to find that quite amusing.
Had she been wrong? Would Mraize and Iyatil flee, instead of trying to continue their plan? “They entered Shadesmar on the Shattered Plains, thousands of miles away,” she said. “They’d need to have found their way here via Oathgate.”
Could Mraize and Iyatil be waiting before arriving? Would they jump here at the moment Dalinar opened his portal? Making a break for it?
Renarin and Rlain joined her, having overcome their awe. “Radiant,” Renarin said, “could you please explain better what’s going on? I’m still confused.”
“Sorry,” Radiant said. “Shallan is inefficient with words at times. There is a secretive group known as the Ghostbloods, who are seeking to control the balance of power on Roshar.”
“Again?” Rlain asked. “Didn’t you round them up right before the invasion?”
“Those were the Sons of Honor,” Renarin said. “Amaram’s former cohort. You know, I wonder if we ask for this sort of thing. We create this air of Alethi propriety, promising that we’re up-front and honest. No one can say what they really think, because it would be ‘un-Alethi.’ Then our honesty becomes a lie as we turn to scheming…”
“It’s kind of how you all ended up with a kingdom in the first place,” Radiant agreed. “Dalinar, Gavilar, Navani, Sadeas, Ialai… frustrated that they were considered outsiders from the backwaters, they plotted to found an empire. Unfortunately for us, the Ghostbloods are supported by some very powerful individuals from offworld.”
“You mean the Fused?” Rlain asked.
“Further offworld,” Radiant said. “Shallan was recruited by them when she was new to her powers. She kept pretending to be a member, hoping to learn more. It came to a head recently, and she realized she had to stop them from reaching their goals.”
“Well, that’s a storming big secret,” Rlain said to a very pronounced rhythm, which Radiant couldn’t place.
Renarin just met her eyes, then nodded. Damnation. He understood. She now felt infinitely more guilty for finding him weird when they first met.
“They’ve been keenly interested in the Unmade,” Radiant said. “They’ve met with Sja-anat, and… Renarin, I think she’s given them spren to bond. Like she did to you and Rlain.”
Speaking of which… where were their spren? Shouldn’t they have appeared when Pattern, Testament, and her armor had?
“She… plays both sides,” Renarin admitted. “She’s told me as much.”
“Her spren accepted me,” Rlain said, “when none of the honorspren would.”
“That’s unfair,” Breteh’s honorspren said, glowing blue with hands on her hips. “Lots of humans weren’t chosen either, Rlain. It comes down to individual decisions.”
“And yet,” Rlain said, “every single member of Bridge Four now has an honorspren—except me. Curious, how people’s decisions are an individual matter when they’re confronted about them—but those decisions form blatant patterns.”
“Sja-anat,” Radiant said, drawing their attention back to the topic, “cannot be trusted—but she’s also not our enemy. She said her spren have an affinity for the Spiritual Realm. I think the Ghostbloods are planning to use those spren to help them navigate it. I determined I’d have a much better chance of figuring out how they’d do that, or even what the Ghostbloods plan to do, with your help.”
“Spiritual Realm,” Renarin said. “Where you said…”
“A certain thing is hidden,” Radiant continued, not wanting to say too much in front of the guards. Shallan had given this explanation earlier.
Renarin nodded.
“So… your spren,” Radiant said. “Do they have any insights? I’m certain the Ghostbloods are going to show up here, likely right when Dalinar opens the portal. The fugitives might make a dash for it.”
“It would help,” Renarin said, “to know where this portal will be.” He narrowed his eyes, then pointed at the tower.
Radiant had the strangest impression as he did so—that his arm and hand were outlined by a soft red glow while in motion, as if he was overlapping some second version of himself. This light, possibly his spren, moved just before he did. It was an afterimage, in reverse.
“There,” Renarin said. “Can you see them?”
“I can,” Rlain said, pointing as well—and his body had exactly the same precursor image. “They’re in the tower. Both Bondsmiths. Their souls glow powerfully.”
“Spren revolve around Aunt Navani,” Renarin said, “the way winds move through a chasm, sculpted by it. They’re coming down in a lift.”
“So we go to them,” Radiant said. “Because that’s where Mraize and his team will need to be, once the portal opens.”
* * *
It was starting to grow dark outside as Navani finally led the group down a lift, through Urithiru, to find an appropriate place to perform their experiment. Storms. The entire second day had passed that quickly? She didn’t feel tired, a blessing from the Sibling, though she did see some signs of fatigue in Dalinar. The way he clasped his hands behind him, forcing himself to stand tall.
They reached the ground floor, light fading in the sky outside the great atrium window as the sun set on the opposite side of Urithiru. She led them through a swarm of gloryspren to a stairwell, holding Gav’s hand all the way. The boy needed more attention from both of them—and fortunately, he had managed a nap during the many meetings. As they reached the bottom of the steps, entering a long hallway, she trailed her other hand along the wall, layered with strata in lines and patterns.
She could feel the tower thrumming. A thousand different mechanisms working in concert, like the organs of a human body. Dalinar and Wit strode behind her. Behind them were the characteristic host of attendants and guards. Navani could almost ignore them as she walked.
“Gram?” Gav asked softly. “I’m scared.”
She stopped and knelt, letting several of the others pass by. “Why, Gav?”
He looked up toward the gloryspren bobbing around her. Then he cringed.
“Could you back away, please,” Navani said, lifting her head and speaking to the spren.
They did, many of them vanishing and the others moving to the very top of the corridor. Gav relaxed. The spren that had tormented him in the Kholinar palace had been of a completely different variety, but that didn’t matter in the face of trauma.
“Was that it?” she asked.
“Not just that,” he whispered. “The tower… I saw it earlier… and Gram, it’s a spren? The whole thing?”
“The tower is good, Gav,” she said. “It cares for us.”
He nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. So she gently took his hand and held it to the wall.
“Can you feel that?” she asked him.
“I’m not sure,” he said, scrunching up his face.
“Close your eyes,” she said, “and listen.”
He did so. “It’s… humming?”
“That’s right,” she said. “There’s a tunnel nearby where boxes flow along on a belt. They’re carrying laundry from all through the tower down here, where it can be washed. It’s not fully up and running yet—we need many more boxes—but this is one of the ways we know the tower is good.”
“Because… it has boxes?”
“Because it makes everyone’s lives better,” Navani said. “With this mechanism, no one will need to climb stairs with heavy bags of clothing. Beyond this are vast rooms where fresh water is cycled and cleaned, so no one has to carry water. The tower is doing that for us all, not only for kings and queens. It is good, Gav. I promise.”
“I feel it, Gram!” Gav said, his hand beside hers. “I really feel it. The tower is alive…”
“All things are,” she said. “Whether it’s the cup you drink from, the home you live in, or the air you breathe. All of it is part of this world given us by the Almighty, and everything in this world is alive. It is one of the ways we know God loves us.”
And surely He did. Even if the person who had held the power was dead, that was merely an avatar, a Vessel—not God. It was that Vessel Dalinar hoped to replace. If he did, would he then return to conventional belief as she hoped? His new ways, new teachings, weren’t strictly blasphemous, but things about them did make her uncomfortable.
Dalinar and Wit had reached a door at the end of the hallway. They stepped in, then a moment later Dalinar looked out and waved for her. She rose and joined him, and he lifted Gav and handed the boy to his governess, who stood with the guards.
“Nobody enters,” Dalinar said.
“Pardon, Brightlord,” one of the guards asked, “but why are we here? What are we doing?”
“It’s an experiment that could be dangerous,” Dalinar said. “It could take us as long as an hour or so.”
They nodded. Dalinar and Navani shut the thick door behind them, standing in one of the tower’s water cistern rooms. Wit strolled through the room, noting where water poured out of pipes in the walls to crash down into the cistern. He said something, but she couldn’t make it out over the cascading water.
“What was that?” Navani said.
“You didn’t hear?” Wit said, strolling closer. “Excellent. We are unlikely to be overheard, and this place is acceptably remote and secure.”
“Yes, but what did you say?” Navani asked.
Wit smiled, then turned to Dalinar. “You’re certain you want to try this?”
“I am,” Dalinar said.
Wit turned to Navani.
“As am I,” she said.
“Very well,” Wit said, fishing in his pocket. “I’ve thought of the perfect vision for your experiment.” He tossed Navani a small rock, which she caught, frowning.
It wasn’t cremstone, but perhaps a kind of granite. The type you either had to quarry for, or had to Soulcast. She held up the rock for Dalinar.
“And this is?” Dalinar asked.
“Rock from Ashyn,” Wit said lightly. “Like those carried by your ancestors to this world during their migration. They were fragments of a holy site on your homeworld, but stones themselves took on a kind of mystical lore by association. That sort of thing happens when the world undergoes repeated cataclysms and society gets knocked back to the stone age a few dozen times. Some seven thousand years later, everyone in Shinovar worships rocks, and has no idea why.”
Navani gaped at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Have you told them?” she asked. “Shared their heritage, their history with them? Have you written this down?”
“I keep meaning to…” Wit said, and shrugged.
Dalinar turned the rock over in his fingers. “You just have one of these? Did you steal it?”
“Hmm?” Wit said. “No, I picked it out myself, right before the migration.”
“To Roshar,” Navani said.
“Yes.”
“You were there?”
Again Wit shrugged. “Look, I can’t be expected to tell you everything that has happened in the last ten thousand years, all right? Yes, I was there. Can we focus on the experiment?” He pointed at the rock. “We want an easy vision as a test. A particular event chosen by us, not preselected by Honor or the Stormfather.”
“Yes,” Navani said. “That’s correct. We need to observe historical events as they truly happened.”
“Specifically,” Wit said, “you will eventually need to be able to find the history I missed in order to determine what led to Honor’s demise, and see if you can find why the power refuses Vessels now. First, we should start with something familiar to me. Hence the rock.”
“The… rock,” Dalinar said. “Wit, I still don’t follow.”
“I explained this,” he said. “If you go into the Spiritual Realm without some kind of anchor or guide, there’s no telling what you will see. Events that you think about, that are a focus of individual or collective trauma or passion, are most likely—but really it could be anything. You could dip in there and end up being shown an extended vision of a kindly old man feeding his axehounds. For hours.”
Wit pointed at the rock again.
“So…” Navani said, sorting through the flood of information he’d given her. “This rock is an anchor to Connect us to a specific moment, and draw us to that specific vision?”
“That’s correct,” Wit said. “Namely: the arrival of humankind upon Roshar.”
“That’s what we’re going to see?” Dalinar asked softly. “Storms.”
“If it works, yes,” Wit said. “Ideally, only your minds will be taken, your bodies staying here. You’ll witness the migration, then return and tell me about it. Since I was there, I can authenticate that this has worked.”
“A control for the experiment,” Navani said.
“Exactly,” Wit said. “And with Dalinar’s clock already attuned, you shouldn’t get too wildly affected by time dilation. You should avoid coming out having aged twenty years—though be careful, it still might be easy to lose track of the days. With that, you can see how much time is passing here, so keep an eye on it. Enjoy the vision for an hour or so, then I’ll call you back.”
Dalinar nodded firmly.
“Wait,” Navani said. “How do we come back? How do we even initiate this? What are the mechanics?”
“Tether yourselves here with a line of power,” Wit said. “Dalinar, you’ve done it before.”
Navani observed as he drew in Stormlight, then knelt and infused the ground with it. When he stood, a line of light anchored him there. With his coaching she was able to draw strength from the tower, then press it into the ground. Like an experiment with osmosis and diffusion.
“That line of light will act like a rope,” Wit explained. “So you can be pulled back should you slip in too deep. You should be able to see those lines of light in the vision, and pull on them to come back yourselves. In an emergency, I can contact you through them.”
“All right…” Navani said, shivering. “Now what?”
“Now,” Wit said, “you open a perpendicularity, and combine all three realms in a single point. You pass through, sending only your mind.”
“How though?” Dalinar asked.
Wit folded his arms, standing at the edge of the rippling reservoir. Light danced on the ceiling, reflected from the glowing gemstones set in the walls, just beneath the surface. Looking at him, she sensed something primordial about the man. His smile faded, his eyes profound, as if holding the darkness of the cosmere before light sparked.
“I don’t know,” Wit said softly.
“You don’t know?” Dalinar said. “You said—”
Navani laid a hand on his arm, quieting him, and looked to Wit. The deity who insisted he was not.
“Every time I’ve done this,” Wit said, “I’ve been at one of the pools. Wells of power that grow around the presence of gods, a kind of… natural spring, grown of their power. When you step into such a well, you can feel the bond that gods have to the Spiritual Realm. You can see a little into the plane where they exist—where their thoughts move at many times the speed of mortals’. I can feel that place calling me. Perhaps it knows I rejected it once; I am the fish that escaped the hook.
“I can share that feeling, rather than a specific list of instructions, Dalinar. At times I have stepped into that power and have followed the call—emerging into a realm where gods dwell. I do it by instinct, as should work for you. It is not much, but you’ve asked for my help, and I give what I have.” He met their eyes. “I warned you of the danger. There are few paths in this universe I fear to walk. This is one of them.”
Navani met Dalinar’s eyes. He sighed, but then nodded. “Let’s open the perpendicularity,” he said, “and feel it out.”
* * *
At Radiant’s urging, the group flew toward the Bondsmiths. They left Breteh’s three squires behind to watch and give warning if someone came through one of the gateways.
They soared through the halls of Urithiru, and as they did, Radiant reached out to brush the wall. It felt solid. This corridor was populated by hundreds of tiny candle flames hovering in the air: the souls of the people living and working in Urithiru. There were also a great number of spren, which on this side were like wildlife—the fauna that populated Shadesmar, attracted to, perhaps feeding on, the emotions and experiences of the humans on the other side. They were only visible in the Physical Realm when something intense let them manifest.
Perhaps it was the bond that drew them. The bond to people—like Radiant spren, or the spren of her armor, which kept up with them somehow, rolling across the ground and sometimes flying between gaps. There was something to the bond that drew spren, invigorated them. Like cremlings hiding in shalebark, Shallan thought, smiling, remembering drawings she’d done during a more innocent time.
There was so much to be studied about the symbiosis between spren and human. Someday when all this was done, that would be her project. Jasnah thought her a whimsical artist, and that was part of her. But so was the scientist. She dreamed of creating a grand illustrated tome explaining the intricate details of the bond. Shallan’s ultimate triumph in proving that art and science were actually one.
The Windrunners landed them at a stairwell heading down. The Bondsmiths had gone this way—indeed, they shone through the glass floor up ahead. The three guards and one of the Windrunners went first to check the way, leaving Renarin to step over to her and whisper.
“I saw a vision,” he said, “right before you arrived. Rlain thinks it’s Ba-Ado-Mishram. What we’re doing here is dangerous, and I need to talk to Shallan about it.”
So, reluctantly, Radiant stepped back. And hoped they wouldn’t get too distracted by whatever he had to say.
* * *
The tower on this side was overwhelming to Renarin. While Rlain hummed to the place’s beauty, Renarin kept focusing on how many things were moving all at once. The walls of shimmering crystal, light catching on corners like it did on a prism. Then there were the spren. Flocks of them, many the size of minks or even axehounds, scurrying down every hallway, hanging from the ceiling, making shadows that reflected through walls, adding to the visual cacophony.
Though spren looked different on this side, he was pretty sure those many-legged ones were fearspren, like eels with feet and one big bulging eye on the front. Gloryspren flitted around on wings, with glowing spheres for heads. But what were the ones that had six arms and gripped the walls, watching with a large drooping mouth that seemed to have eyes in it? The things that were shaped like anemones? The darker shadows, hulking and threatening, that he kept glimpsing through the glass walls?
Storms. As he pulled Shallan aside, he searched his pockets for something to fiddle with. He came out with a couple of spheres, which he spun in his palm, and he tried to focus on the clicking sound the glass made.
Shallan undid her hair band and fanned out her hair before replacing her hat. Her lips parted as she glanced one way, then the other. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one to find this terrible and overwhelming…
She grinned like a madwoman. “This is amazing,” she said. “I can’t believe I haven’t come in here before!”
“Didn’t you just get back yesterday?”
“I should have made time,” she said, pointing. “Storms! What are those! I should sketch those. The ones with the spines? They don’t look like any spren on our side. Usually there’s some physical clue to what they are.”
Despite her words, she didn’t get out a sketchbook. They started down the steps, a Windrunner and Rlain ahead of them. Renarin kept the spheres in his hand, clicking them together, and went over what he wanted to say. Spelling it out in his mind.
“So, you wanted to talk?” Shallan asked, eyeing another spren above them, through the transparent ceiling.
“Yes,” he said, deliberate. “Ba-Ado-Mishram. Rlain thinks we saw her in a vision.”
“I think I did too,” Shallan said.
“What?”
“Odd things happen with Lightweaving,” she said. “Particularly if you’ve bonded two spren at the same time.”
Two spren. “Wait. That’s not just some… friend of Pattern’s?”
“The deadeye?”
Deadeye? He peered ahead at the other Cryptic. Was that what the bent tines in the head meant? He hadn’t looked closely, as… well… this place was so demanding and exhausting. He simply couldn’t help but see everything.
“Two spren,” he said, fixating on that. “You have two spren. I didn’t even know it was possible. Why would you bond a second on your trip?”
“It’s a long story,” Shallan said.
That seemed like a promise of more, but then she didn’t continue.
“Anyway,” Renarin said eventually—again organizing and focusing his thoughts as a group of strange purple spren rolled down the steps next to them. “You said this Unmade was in the Spiritual Realm. And you said my father is opening a perpendicularity to travel there.”
“Which the Ghostbloods know about,” she said.
“So we tell him not to!”
“I sent messages,” she said, “but it’s a busy day, and he’s been on the move. Besides, Renarin, when has your father ever reconsidered because any of us made an objection?” She focused on the lights ahead. It appeared that his father and Aunt Navani had entered a large chamber at the end of the corridor. “I can finally stop Mraize—for once I know exactly where he’s going to be. I just have to be there watching for him.”
“But this spren,” Renarin said. “Shallan, I think she’s something terrible. Worse than the Unmade that caused the Alethi to hunger to kill each other in battle for centuries. Worse than the one that killed Aesudan and consumed Amaram. Worse than… anything.”
“So we absolutely need to stop the Ghostbloods from getting to her.”
“Or maybe we shouldn’t be involved at all,” Renarin said. “What if by meddling, we lead to her being freed. All the effort we took to lock away the Thrill? Someone took that effort and more to lock Mishram away. If she’s in the Spiritual Realm… maybe your enemies can’t find her, Shallan. Maybe the prison is strong enough.”
“I can’t simply let Mraize do whatever he wants, Renarin.”
“And me?” Renarin said, feeling Glys thrum within him. “Shallan, you specifically fetched me.”
“Because you might be able to spot others who have bonded corrupt… um… reborn? Remade? Sja-anat’s spren.”
“I think you can do that as well as anyone could,” Renarin said. “You told me Mraize had bonded one of Sja-anat’s Enlightened spren because they could guide him in the Spiritual Realm. Then you came to find me. Why, Shallan? Why really?”
She kept her eyes forward. “Mishram’s prison is compromised. The Ghostbloods knew precisely where to send agents to get the information, and have intel on how to reach the Spiritual Realm. And their spren… their Enlightened spren… can lead them through that realm.”
“So you are going to try to find the prison,” Renarin said. “That’s why I’m here. You hope Glys can guide you!”
“I don’t think I thought it through that much,” Shallan said. “I’m working on instinct. Look, we should catch up to the others.”
She quickened her step. Renarin forced himself to keep moving along the short hallway, trying so hard to ignore all the lights, the motion. It was… it was loud. Not loud to the ears, loud to every sense. It made him want to put his hands around his eyes and block out most of the stimuli, to cut down on how much was reaching him.
I will help? Glys said. I will try?
The spren… darkened things. Dampening the lights at the perimeter of Renarin’s sight, like what happened in a vision, where everything went black.
It did help, and he was able to pull himself together and make his way forward after Shallan and the others. But storms. What was he letting her pull him into? Shallan could be a little like a sudden river after a highstorm. A flood that could carry you until it ran out, leaving you stranded. Adolin just went along with it.
Is she right? Renarin asked Glys. Could you help us on the other side, in the Spiritual Realm?
…Yes, Glys said, sounding hesitant as he pulsed. Yes. I think I could. I will.
That was a small comfort, but Shallan did seem frightened of these Ghostbloods. Renarin didn’t think they could do anything to his father—human souls appeared as glowing flames on this side, but there was no way to interact with them. But they didn’t know all the permutations of what anti-Light could do, and…
…and he kept going, despite knowing he was trapped in a Shallan flood. Because if he turned back, then Rlain probably would too, which would mean leaving Shallan completely without access to common sense.
Don’t be unfair, he told himself. She’s done a lot of good for your family. A year of having her as a sister-in-law had shown him she could be a deeply sensitive and caring person, and she loved Adolin with an enthusiasm that none of the other women ever had. Beyond that, she had a remarkable handle on life, considering the way her fragmented mind sometimes presented challenges.
In short, despite first impressions, he had grown fond of her. However, that didn’t mean he liked the way that she worked by instinct. Accidentally joining a secret organization bent on ruling Roshar, then never finding a time to mention it to anyone until it became a crisis? In his experience, that was the most Shallan thing she could have done.
Unfortunately, a glow was building ahead of them at the end of the hallway; his father was preparing the perpendicularity. But… there wasn’t anyone here. The room they reached was a perfect replica of the one in the Physical Realm, only made of the same shimmering glass as everything else. He could make out the souls of Aunt Navani and his father, glowing brightly from their Connections to powerful spren—and another soul, which had to be Wit, shimmering with a great number of odd colors. Glys confirmed it.
Otherwise, the room was empty… Wait. What were those two souls over at the side, in the walls?
Shallan set the three guards at the door and stepped in with the spren, Rlain, and the Windrunners. There, she stood with her hands on her hips. “It seems impregnable. A hallway ending here? Walls we can see through, and no other humans in sight? Did I misjudge?”
“Those two souls over there might be spying on Father and Navani,” Renarin said. “Could that be them?”
Shallan spun to follow his gesture. “Storms, maybe the Ghostbloods slipped past in the Physical Realm? It’s possible they transferred with a group of soldiers on the Shattered Plains.”
“What do these Ghostbloods look like?” Rlain said, inspecting the souls. “Maybe we can identify them.”
“We were expecting three people,” Shallan said. “Two short, one tall. One woman, two men. Two wear strange masks most of the time, and are foreigners. The third is Thaylen, though he dyes his eyebrows and keeps them short. He has scars across his face, and…” She paused, then glanced at Renarin. “They would have spren with them. Maybe hiding within their hosts, as yours do?”
“Tumi says that is likely,” Rlain told her. “Any spren can learn to do it, even on this side.”
“And their powers?” Renarin pushed. “Sja-anat can make any order of Radiant save Bondsmith, assuming the spren are willing. And a lot of them are, Shallan. She offers a different option, a third option. So what powers should we be watching for?”
“Well, one can transfer between Shadesmar and the Physical Realm,” Shallan said. “So they might be waiting on the other side for the perpendicularity to open, then plan to pop in here and enter it from this side.”
“Good,” Rlain said. “That gives us something to prepare for.” He knelt beside the wall. “These two souls… they seem to be hiding in an air duct. And what is that green spot…”
“Mmm…” Pattern said. “Cultivationspren. That is Lift.”
“Spying as usual,” Shallan said, folding her arms. “So maybe that’s not them.”
“What else should we be looking for?” Renarin asked. “Could one of them be a Lightweaver? Could they be disguised?” She glanced at him, then her eyes widened and she looked back through the clear crystalline door. At the three soldiers—two short, one tall—who they’d brought here and posted out front.
Chapter 32: Cords of Light
As a king leaves a people with the gift of his absence, so that they may grow and solve their own problems, without his hand to always guide them.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
A glowing rift tore reality apart before Dalinar, a melding of three realms.
It took the form of a pillar of light emerging from his clasped hands, gloryspren exploding into existence around him. The light soon washed out everything else, and power flowed like water in a mighty river—forming a puncture in reality that defied natural laws… or no, this was an expression of natural laws too. Simply ones that were higher, more fundamental.
“All right,” Dalinar said. “It’s open.”
“Step in,” Wit said, though Dalinar had lost track of him in the omnipresent light. “Both of you. Let the light bathe you, then seek the Spiritual Realm.”
Dalinar moved forward, holding the portal open as one might part drapes at a window.
“Dalinar,” Navani said, joining him, “I can hear the tones of Roshar… They’re familiar to me now. This place… it’s been calling to me for weeks.”
She took Dalinar’s hand in her safehand, then reached out toward the sound with her fingers, which he could see making streaks in the light. He could feel that realm too. Could feel her welcoming it… as they stretched toward another place.
* * *
Panic speared Shallan. Those people outside…
Oh no, Veil thought. Remind me, what do you do when there’s a guard watching for you?
Storms. You became the guard.
Unfortunately, Mraize saw her looking through the wall at him, and knew they’d been spotted. A second later the three Ghostbloods burst through the door, still wearing their false faces—though Mraize had pulled a dagger out. One that glowed and warped the air.
“Protect the spren!” Shallan shouted, pointing. “Those three guards are the enemy!”
The room became chaos. Three Ghostbloods pretending to be common Alethi guards faced two Windrunners and their spren, along with Renarin, Rlain, Radiant, Pattern, and Testament. So many figures suddenly moving, responding, or panicking.
Mraize raised his dagger and stayed back, though when the dagger got too close to his side, it made the Lightweaving spark and rip apart. Iyatil and Lieke leaped for Breteh, perhaps identifying the Windrunner as the strongest.
Radiant moved, shoving past Pattern and trying to get to Breteh, who clashed with Lieke, holding back his dagger. Nearby, Isasik—the other Windrunner—tackled Iyatil.
Storms, no, Radiant thought, pulling to a stop. There was no way Isasik could handle Iyatil. Indeed, the woman spun expertly and grabbed the younger Windrunner by the arm, slashing in a single smooth motion. She tossed him aside, blood spraying from a slit across his neck.
Right then, Dalinar’s perpendicularity opened.
Power thrummed through the room, pulsing with the energy of storms, and Shallan felt it surge through her like hot water in her veins. She gasped in awe, and outside the room spren began to scramble and scratch at the door.
Iyatil jumped for her, knife—fortunately a conventional one—bloody. Radiant separated from Shallan then, fully armored despite being in Shadesmar—formed of Lightweaving given physical weight. Radiant snatched Iyatil straight from the air, then slammed her to the glowing crystalline ground.
Iyatil grunted and slashed at Radiant, the weapon bouncing ineffectively off the Shardplate. It wasn’t real, but was anything real on this side? What had made this entire tower, if not raw Investiture from the Sibling?
Radiant pinned Iyatil down by one arm—but the Ghostblood performed an expert wrestling twist and slipped away. She spun around Radiant—who tried and failed to grab her. The woman’s Lightweaving began to evaporate, letting her mask show through, and her eyes—rimmed by wood—fixated on Shallan.
If she has an anti-Stormlight dagger, Shallan realized, dancing backward by instinct, she’ll use it against me. That kills both me and Radiant, and likely negates Pattern and Testament.
Not that either were very useful. Testament hid behind Pattern, who stood with one hand to his chest, pattern spinning, like a woman whose garden party had just been spoiled by unexpected rain.
As Iyatil struck, Shallan dodged backward, blessing Adolin for his insistence on training her in knife combat. As she had expected though, this was a feint—Iyatil slid another knife from her sheath and kept her hand back as if to hide it. This one warped the air.
Shallan had been wrong about them only having a little bit of anti-Light—there had been one bolt, but at least two daggers. Shallan continued to dodge, passing Isasik, whom Renarin was helping sit up after healing. A second later, Breteh—careening in an uncontrolled Lashing—came crashing past. Iyatil dodged, and Shallan saw her chance, bringing Radiant in to tackle the woman, forcing her to drop the dagger—which went skidding across the floor.
While Iyatil quickly slipped out of Radiant’s grip again, Shallan was able to scoop up the dagger. She glanced up, met Iyatil’s furious gaze, then smiled in triumph.
A second later, Shallan took a blowgun dart to the eye. She stumbled back and barely managed to dodge—through the pain—as Iyatil sent more darts after her. When had the woman gotten out that blowgun? Shallan scrambled away, making illusions of herself to distract, and pulled the dart free.
Puffing, she assessed the situation. Isasik had been healed but still sat on the floor, right hand to his bloodied neck. Lieke was facing Rlain and one of the Windrunner honorspren. The female who had spoken earlier, wearing a uniform and carrying a light dueling sword—which she wielded effectively to force the outsider up against the wall, then run him through.
Shallan nodded in appreciation—so far, Maya and Notum were the sole spren she’d known with the air of soldiers. But it stood to reason there would be others, particularly among the honorspren who had chosen to come and form bonds rather than hide in Lasting Integrity.
The Ghostbloods were losing this fight. They might be better individual warriors, but they faced five Radiants, plus the spren and Shallan’s illusions. Radiant backed Iyatil into a corner, and Lieke—who didn’t appear to have a spren—died in the attack, falling limp and covered in blood. As quickly as the ruckus had begun, it was over.
As Adolin had warned her so many months ago, combat was often short, brutal, and overwhelming. Years of training came down to a few key clashes. Shallan had even missed important parts while fixated on Iyatil; she only now noticed that Mraize was on the ceiling, having apparently been Lashed there by Breteh. The honorspren and Rlain joined Radiant in holding Iyatil at bay, while Shallan and Isasik—regaining his feet—turned weapons on Mraize, trapped on the ceiling.
“Wait,” Isasik said. “Where did that other Knight Radiant come from? And… how did she get Shardplate in Shadesmar?”
Breteh looked at Radiant, then frowned. “Another Lightweaver?” he guessed. “Shallan?”
“Well,” she said. “It’s kind of complicated—”
“You haven’t asked,” Iyatil whispered from the corner, “what happened to the guards whose places we took.”
Isasik turned toward her. “What did you do to them?”
“They’re being held at the base of the pillar where you arrived,” Iyatil said. “As insurance. They will be executed unless I give a signal. Or you get to them first.”
“She’s toying with you, Isasik,” Shallan said. “Don’t let her get inside your head.”
“It’s true,” Mraize said from the ceiling. “You know I wouldn’t lie about this, little knife. You can save them, but you only have a few minutes.”
“Is he lying?” Isasik demanded. “Shallan?”
She gazed up at Mraize. Who smiled. Confident.
Damnation.
“He’s probably not,” she admitted. “But—”
Both Windrunners dashed away, their spren following.
“Windrunners,” Iyatil said dismissively. “So easy to play with.”
“We still have you all,” Shallan said. Mraize on the ceiling, Lieke down, Iyatil trapped in the corner, holding her blowgun but apparently out of darts. “You’re captured. We win.”
“Ah,” Iyatil said softly, “but Mraize still has his dagger.”
Shallan looked up at him, her eyes locking on to the dagger. It was difficult to make anything out as the perpendicularity raged—washing out the room with brilliant white light. Spren in the distance were going haywire, a thousand shadows dancing up on the ground floor. But she could make out that warping. That light that somehow repelled natural light—including that of the perpendicularity—in a bubble around Mraize’s hand. It stood out like a single dot on an otherwise white canvas.
“Mraize,” Shallan said, suddenly filled with dread. “Mraize, what are you doing?”
“Have you ever seen a perpendicularity collapse on itself, little knife?” he asked.
“Mraize…”
“I haven’t either,” he said. “But it’s reportedly spectacular.” He threw the dagger.
Shallan leaped for it, but she was in the wrong position. The anti-Light struck the center of the portal.
The blast that followed shattered the room.
* * *
It was working.
Dalinar could feel the vision begin to form, slowly at first, as if the Spiritual Realm was resisting. He and Navani pushed forward, as through a thick tar, holding hands—trailing cords of light to Connect to the Physical Realm.
Images began to form around him from swirling light. Visions of places, people—ephemeral, winking away in seconds. The tones thrummed through him.
It was working.
He looked at Navani, grinning. Then, behind them, something snapped.
Their Connection to the Physical Realm vanished, and something came rushing toward them: power, wind, and screams.
Greetings and salutations, Sanderfans! Last week, we discussed Wind and Truth preview chapters 29 and 30 with Renarin and Rlain POVs, which we’ve been jonesing for, right? Then Shallan showed up, asking for their help; what kind of shenanigans is she going to get them into? We also caught up with Lift, who’s being a good friend to poor little Gavinor. This week we’re moving on to chapters 31 and 32—and it’s a wild ride!
Be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly (likely) contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 31 is titled “Experiment” and we’re back with Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain who head down to the Oathgates along with some backup muscle to pop over into Shadesmar and, presumably, intercept Mraize and Iyatil. Shallan is overcome by the stunning sight of the awakened tower from the Shadesmar side and asks Radiant to take over.
“Other Shallan!”
::chuckle::
There are three guards in Shadesmar looking after the Oathgate, and the Windrunners Shallan had sent ahead chat with them as Shallan gives way to Radiant. One of the Windrunners tells Radiant that they did a sweep and haven’t seen anyone, and one of the guards states that they’ve been there all day and haven’t seen anybody, either.
Renarin and Rlain join Radiant, asking what’s going on, so she tells them about the Ghostbloods, how they’re “seeking to control the balance of power on Roshar.” Rlain thought that was the group that Shallan had captured at the beginning of Rhythm of War and Renarin explains how that was the Sons of Honor. Radiant says that the Ghostbloods are supported by someone from offworld… further offworld than the Fused. She mentions how long Shallan had been mixed up with them, pretending to be one of them, until she realized that they needed to be stopped.
“Well, that’s a storming big secret,” Rlain said to a very pronounced rhythm, which Radiant couldn’t place.”
I’m guessing it had something to do with irritation? Incredulity? Anyway, Radiant continues, telling them that the Ghostbloods had seemed uninterested in the Unmade but that they had met with Sja-anat and she’d given them some of her spren. Radiant takes a moment to wonder where Renarin’s and Rlain’s spren are, thinking they should have appeared as her two spren and her armor had as soon as they’d entered Shadesmar. Then, back to the conversation, she says that Sja-anat’s spren have an affinity for the Spiritual Realm and that she figured she’d have a better chance of navigating it with Renarin. She expects that the fugitives will show up as Dalinar opens the portal.
Renarin points at the tower and Radiant sees a red glow around his hand and wonders if it’s his spren. Rlain does the same and they say they can see Dalinar and Navani descending a lift. Radiant insists they need to go to them, as that’s where the Ghostbloods will be as soon as Dalinar opens the portal.
POV shift!
Navani is holding Gavinor’s hand as they head to the room where they’ll conduct their experiment with Wit. Gav is afraid and Navani asks him why. He cringes from the gloryspren around her and when she asks them to back away, they move further off. Gav asks if the whole tower is a spren and Navani tries to reassure him that the tower is good, that it’s there to help them.
They arrive at the room Wit had chosen for the experiment and Navani hands Gavinor to his governess. They leave guards outside the door and enter a cistern room. Wit says something that Navani can’t hear due to the sound of the water and when she asks what he said, he neglects to answer, clearly pleased that they won’t be overhead. He asks if they’re ready and they say they are.
Wit tosses a rock to Navani and explains that it came from Ashyn, where the humans came from before their migration to Roshar. He explains that it came from a holy site and was carried to Roshar, and eventually the original association with these stones were lost, and stones themselves were considered mystical… after much time and numerous cataclysms, the Shin now worship rock and don’t know why. Navani seems appalled by this and asks if Wit has ever told them of this history. He says he keeps meaning to…
Oh, my… poor Wit. With so much knowledge and so many memories, even with some of them stored in Breaths, he must have a head just full of information. As someone who deals with racing thoughts, I can certainly empathize with him!
Dalinar asks Wit if he stole the rock and he says that he picked it out himself before the migration. Which leads to a question from Navani:
“You were there?”
Again Wit shrugged. “Look, I can’t be expected to tell you everything that has happened in the last ten thousand years, all right? Yes, I was there. Can we focus on the experiment?”
I kind of adore Wit!
Wit goes on to explain that they need an anchor to direct them to a specific memory and Navani surmises that the rock will take them to a specific moment and Wit confirms that it should take them to the arrival of humans on Roshar. He instructs Dalinar to tether himself to the room, so Dalinar creates a connection with the floor, and a line of light “anchors” him there. Navani does the same and then Wit instructs them to open a perpendicularity and send their minds in. Dalinar asks how to do that and Wit, our wonderful, wonderful Wit, says he doesn’t know either. He explains how he’s done it in the past, though always at a pool, such as we saw in Elantris. And then he says something truly chilling:
“There are few paths in this universe I fear to walk. This is one of them.”
Dun-dun-dunnnnn…
POV shift!
Shallan and company leave three of the Windrunner squires at the Oathgate and, taking the guards that had been at the Oathgate all day, they fly to the tower. They follow the light of Dalinar’s and Navani’s souls toward the room where they’re meeting with Wit.
Renarin tells Radiant he needs to speak with Shallan about his vision and Ba-Ado-Mishram and Radiant gives way to her, hoping they won’t get distracted…
POV shift!
Renarin is overwhelmed by the tower from the Shadesmar side. The light, the “flocks” of spren. It’s overwhelming, like sensory overload. He retrieves two spheres from his pocket and plays with them to distract himself and has to listen to Shallan, who is grinning and freaking out about all of the spren.
Finally, she asks what he wanted to talk about and he says that Rlain thinks they saw Mishram in a vision. Shallan says that she has too, and explains about odd things happening with Lightweaving when you’ve bonded two spren. Which is news to Renarin, who considers Testament as Shallan explains.
Honestly, the whole time I’m here thinking, “Get ON with it, people! They’re down there about to open the perpendicularity! MOVE!”
They don’t listen, though, and keep yammering. Renarin says they should tell Dalinar not to go into the Spiritual Realm and Shallan counters by saying they can’t allow the Ghostbloods to get to Mishram. He asks why she wanted him to come along on this mission and she replies that she thought that he might be able to spot others who have bonded one of Sja-anat’s spren.
Renarin asks Glys if he can help them on the other side; the spren says he thinks he could. That he will.
They arrive at the room and leave the guards outside. They see three souls, Dalinar, Navani, and Wit, who is shimmering with a great number of odd colors. Of course, Wit’s soul is different. Did we think it would be otherwise? Then they see two souls in the wall and Pattern says that one of them is Lift.
Renarin asks what the guards look like so they can keep an eye out for them. Shallan describes them, two men and a woman, two short and one tall, two that wear masks and one, Thaylen, with short eyebrows and scars on his face.
Renarin asks if one of them could be a Lightweaver, if they could be disguised. Then it clicks for Shallan and she looks back through the door, which is like crystal, at the two short and one tall guard they had brought with them from the Oathgate and haven’t vetted at all. Shallan really should have known better, don’t you think, Sanderfans? I’m just over here shaking my head. Literally. And tsking. Lots of tsking.
Chapter 32 is titled “Cords of Light” and Dalinar forms his perpendicularity, joining the three realms. He and Navani step into the light, directed by Wit, and Navani says she hears the tones of Roshar and that this place has been calling to her. For weeks. Weeks? During the occupation?
POV shift!
I’m telling you… it’s like a book-long Sanderlanche.
Shallan panics. And now Veil chimes in.
Oh no, Veil thought. Remind me, what do you do when there’s a guard watching for you?
Storms. You became the guard.
Didn’t Shallan just do that? Like… literally just did that. She became the guard to infiltrate the Ghostblood meeting. Barely a minute ago.
I know, I’m overusing “literally.” Hush.
Then Mraize and the others burst into the room, Mraize with a dagger that glows and warps the air. Shallan screams to protect the spren and chaos ensues. There are two Windrunners and their spren, Renarin, Rlain, and then Shallan and her two spren. And three Ghostbloods. Iyatil slits the throat of one of the Windrunners (worry not, he heals) and then the perpendicularity opens.
Radiant separates from Shallan and forms in full Shardplate, fighting with Iyatil, who avoids her and pulls out an anti-Stormlight dagger. Radiant tackles Iyatil, who drops the dagger and Shallan picks it up. She can only gloat for a moment though, and then Iyatil shoots her in the freaking eye with a blowgun dart. In the eye! Ouch! Lieke, the other Ghostblood, is killed in the fray and then bam, it’s over.
Then Iyatil taunts them by saying that the three guards whose places they took will be killed unless she gives a signal. Shallan knows it’s true and the Windrunners leave, rushing to save them. Mraize, funnily enough, is lashed to the ceiling, but… he still has his anti-Stormlight dagger.
“Have you ever seen a perpendicularity collapse on itself, little knife?” he asked.
“Mraize…”
“I haven’t either,” he said. “But it’s reportedly spectacular.” He threw the dagger.
Shallan leaped for it, but she was in the wrong position. The anti-Light struck the center of the portal.
The blast that followed shattered the room.
POV shift!
Dalinar feels the vision begin to form and then something snaps.
Their Connection to the Physical Realm vanished, and something came rushing toward them: power, wind, and screams.
Aaaaand that’s all for this week, Sanderfans. Wasn’t it exciting?! Except for that whole bit where Shallan doesn’t even suspect the two short guards and one tall guard to be the two short and one tall Ghostbloods she’s looking for. ::shaking my damn head::
So the perpendicularity was collapsed with anti-Stormlight. Dalinar and Navani are trapped in there? I mean, how will they get out without their tethers? And the screaming? Who was screaming? They wouldn’t be able to hear Shallan and the others screaming in Shadesmar. But… the realms were joined, weren’t they? So much to think about! What a cliffhanger for the week! Tell us all your thoughts in the comments!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
We’re nearing the end now, Cosmere Chickens, and things are starting to really heat up. After this week’s read-along, we only have two more chapter drops to go before the Big Release! How many of you will Drew and I be seeing at Dragonsteel Nexus? I may or may not have a few special badge ribbons to hand out, so come and find me! I’ll be in my Bridge Four cosplay most of the time, and can be found on Friday in the Dealer’s Room peddling my own book. Drew will be at his own booth for Inking Out Loud, talking literary analysis alongside The Legendarium. What are you most looking forward to? And did you get anything fun for Light Day?
Okay, enough socializing—let’s dive into this week’s character arc and cultural analysis…
Chapter 31’s Heralds in the arch are the Joker and Battah (Battar), patron of the Elsecallers. Her attributes are Wise/Careful and her role is Counsellor.
The Joker is almost certainly here for Hoid, as usual. He’s very prevalent in this chapter. And Battah… I’d take a guess that she’s here as Hoid himself is serving as a counselor to Dalinar and Navani, giving them advice on how to proceed.
Chapter 32’s arch has Ishi (Ishar), Herald of Luck, patron of the Bondsmiths. His attributes are Pious/Guiding and his role is Priest. Also making an appearance is Jezrien (Jezerezeh), Herald of Kings, patron of the Windrunners. His attributes are Protecting/Leading, and his role is King. Ishi’s appearance is probably due to both Dalinar and Navani being present. Jezrien could be a couple things; first of all, Dalinar is acting in his capacity as ruler of Urithru. Second, we do have some Windrunners being particularly Windrunner-y at the end of the battle with the Ghostbloods. If I were a betting woman, I’d put my spheres on the former, but it could be either or both.
Shallan
It was the pinnacle of all artistry. This was the height to which creations could rise. This was what you could… could…
Interesting that Shallan loses it to the point where Radiant needs to take control here. I’ve been known to appreciate some fine art, but rarely to the point where it’s made me completely lose control. (Notably the only time I can think of was a certain passage in a book, which made me put it down for a while to collect myself.) So Shallan absolutely losing it here is very, very interesting. What is it about the beauty of Urithiru that enthralls her so? Is this foreshadowing of some kind?
Radiant folded her arms, thoughtful. Around her feet, a collection of beads gathered and bounced up and down. “Other Shallan!” they said.
This reminds me of IFS (Internal Family Systems) therapy, in which you learn to identify and relate to different “parts” of your personality. Shallan’s other “parts” manifest quite physically, thanks to the magic of stormlight. But the underlying concept is the same; her Radiant persona is her confident, self-assured, and competent “part.” The fact that the little spren that make up her armor actually recognize this is utterly fascinating.
He understood. She now felt infinitely more guilty for finding him weird when they first met.
Renarin is often treated this way by others, so it’s nice to see this moment of connection between the two of them.
There was so much to be studied about the symbiosis between spren and human. Someday when all this was done, that would be her project. Jasnah thought her a whimsical artist, and that was part of her. But so was the scientist.
I wonder if this is foreshadowing her working alongside Navani down the line, since this is very much Navani’s wheelhouse.
Hoid
There are few paths in this universe I fear to walk. This is one of them.”
Hoo boy. A path that Hoid himself fears to walk? That’s a scary thought, considering how much Investiture and knowledge he has. It’s hard to imagine Hoid being afraid of anything.
Windrunner Squires
Both he and Breteh were former bridgemen from Bridge Thirteen, the group that had become Teft’s squires. She thought that was why they wore red glyphwards on their arms—something about a pact relating to Moash and vengeance.
And rightfully so. I can’t wait to see Moash get his comeuppance. It’s going to be a lovely day. (Unless Sanderson pulls the rug out from under us and gives him a redemptive arc, but that’s the tallest of tall orders at this point. Before Rhythm of War I might have been able to accept it, but now? No. No thanks. Team #NoRedemption all the way for THIS Windrunner.)
Rlain
“…every single member of Bridge Four now has an honorspren—except me. Curious, how people’s decisions are an individual matter when they’re confronted about them—but those decisions form blatant patterns.”
Daaaaaaaaaaamn. Rlain coming in swinging against the inherent racism he sees every day. Good for him.
Renarin
Renarin forced himself to keep moving along the short hallway, trying so hard to ignore all the lights, the motion. It was… it was loud. Not loud to the ears, loud to every sense. It made him want to put his hands around his eyes and block out most of the stimuli, to cut down on how much was reaching him.
Poor Renarin. Overstimulation is incredibly hard to deal with. It’s very cool how Glys finds a way to help him with it. I do find it interesting that their bond hasn’t “healed” Renarin; according to the lore, this would be because Renarin doesn’t think that his autism is “wrong,” but rather that it’s an integral part of him (which is accurate). It does, however, seem to bother him a great deal on many levels. It’s possible that “healing” his autism will become a part of his character arc, but personally speaking, I hope it doesn’t. It’s not a deficiency, just a different way of viewing the world.
Navani
His new ways, new teachings, weren’t strictly blasphemous, but things about them did make her uncomfortable.
This is the first time I can remember Navani showing misgivings or concern about anything regarding Dalinar. I’m happy to see it; it means she’s viewing him as the flawed human that he is, and not some perfect manifestation.
Cultural Observations
We create this air of Alethi propriety, promising that we’re up-front and honest. No one can say what they really think, because it would be ‘un-Alethi.’ Then our honesty becomes a lie as we turn to scheming…”
Hmm. I’m not entirely sure I follow Renarin on this one. If being honest is an Alethi trait, how is not saying what you really think un-Alethi…? I must be missing something on this. Does anyone have any theories?
“Rock from Ashyn,” Wit said lightly. “Like those carried by your ancestors to this world during their migration. They were fragments of a holy site on your homeworld, but stones themselves took on a kind of mystical lore by association.”
Ah hah! This explains the Shin reverence of stones. Makes perfect sense, when explained this way.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
Before we get into the explosive conclusion to this week’s set of chapters, let’s talk about a few intriguing curiosities. There are all sorts of spren hanging around Urithiru in the Cognitive Realm, but what are they?
But what were the ones that had six arms and gripped the walls, watching with a large drooping mouth that seemed to have eyes in it? The things that were shaped like anemones? The darker shadows, hulking and threatening, that he kept glimpsing through the glass walls?
The anemones immediately make me think of anticipationspren, with their “streamers” flowing, but I don’t think I have an immediate idea of the first or third unknown spren listed here. What do you think?
As for a different sort of spren:
Sja-anat can make any order of Radiant save Bondsmith, assuming the spren are willing.
While I don’t think this is necessarily shocking information, it’s at least illuminating. The fact that either Mraize or Iyatil is an Elsecaller is noteworthy enough, since Jasnah is the only other Elsecaller on record at this point. But the potential for Enlightened highspren and honorspren seems a little surprising to me—the highspren have had their own thing going on for so long, carrying forward the Skybreakers under Nale’s watchful eye, and the honorspren are, well… honorspren. None of the honorspren we’ve seen so far have the attitude I’d expect to subject themselves to the influence of an Unmade. Essentially, I think Renarin’s “assuming the spren are willing” is carrying a LOT of weight here.
The other revelation here is that, while either Mraize and Iyatil is an Elsecaller, the other is definitely a Lightweaver. This feels like an almost direct counter to Shallan—and would be right in Mraize’s wheelhouse, with his whole hunter mentality.
Things have certainly gotten crazy, overall, with these two chapters, as Mraize’s thrown anti-Light dagger collapses the perpendicularity. So much for a test run: it seems as if Dalinar and Navani have been fully cast into the Spiritual Realm.
This opens up some serious implications for the rest of the book. For one thing, Hoid stressed how much time works strangely there, and how easily someone can get lost. Dalinar has only eight days until the contest of champions; he doesn’t have any experience with the Spiritual Realm, and he no longer has a Connection to the Physical. Whether or not he can navigate a perpendicularity back from the Spiritual Realm is one question; whether or not he’ll even make the deadline is another.
And the Spiritual Realm is the Realm of the Shards. If he breaks the contract, he’s right in Odium’s proverbial front yard, open to a whole host of potential actions from Taravangian.
Finally, a note on the epigraphs, and a reminder of what sort of foreshadowing Brandon likes to use. The quotes from The Way of Kings used before each chapter of Day Two have all focused on ideas of leaving, of abdicating… and now, right near the end of the day, Dalinar and Navani are forced to leave behind their thrones in Urithiru, cast into the unknowable fathoms of the Spiritual Realm.
Obviously the epigraphs change for each Part (or Day) of a Stormlight Archive book, and Brandon uses them in different ways… but it’s worth keeping an eye on what sort of themes start arising as the book progresses, and new writings pop up in the epigraphs. That said, it’s only a couple weeks from release. The proverbial die has been cast. The story is truly in motion now.
Saddle up.
Fan Theories
Danthemanlee on Reddit (and several others) is convinced that:
[…] Gavinor as child champion is definitely happening. … I went from “aww Lift is helping a traumatized child” to “omg this 5-year-old already has an overwhelming desire to kill people and mutilate their bodies afterwards” in the span of 10 seconds lol
Lyn: That’s a horrible thought. I can see why you’d think it, but BOY do I hope you’re wrong. That poor kid has been through enough!
Drew: I’ve always disliked the Gavinor-as-champion theory, so I can still find plenty of ways to reason around it despite these recent scenes… but I totally get the trepidation from readers. There are a whole lot of red flags waving in the wind, for many different characters, after the preview chapters so far.
A few people are speculating that Lift is going to wind up in the Spiritual Realm, and might be the one to set BAM free. That would certainly fit in with her “I will remember those who have been forgotten” ideal…
This week’s “Reddit quote that made Lyn laugh” award goes to greenfishbluefish for this:
I need someone from Scadrial to check that Lyft isn’t just Wayne in a wig.
Can’t believe Sanderson made his autistic character collect Warhammer. Genuinely hilarious.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with chapter 33![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor is serializing the new book from now until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment will go live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post published so far in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Chapter 33: The Conflux of All Darkness and Sorrow
May you have the courage someday to walk away. And the wisdom to recognize that day when it arrives.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Lift gasped at the sudden flood of light.
She’d been near Dalinar’s perpendicularity before, but the wonder still struck her every time. That powerful illumination shining straight through her, making her transparent. Even hidden in the little air tunnels as she was, it overwhelmed her.
Today, within that light, she saw herself as she could have been. Standing tall and proud, unafraid of the future, because the hand of someone loving rested on her shoulder. In this vision she was dressed in the Iriali clothing of her childhood, where her family had moved when she’d been young.
What if she’d stayed there, in Rall Elorim, instead of… wherever the wind put her? Would she have become that girl—that confident young woman—with gleaming hair, wearing an Iriali short shirt, her shoulders and midriff exposed? As if she didn’t care that people saw she was growing up?
This version of her didn’t seem afraid of anything.
Lift reached for that version of herself, her fingers barely visible in the light, and she thought she felt a comforting song flow through her. And that hand. On the shoulder, with tan skin and painted nails… so familiar. Though the rest of the figure was invisible, Lift knew that hand, so soft despite its calluses.
If she could just hold it one more time…
But there was no substance to this vision. And Lift knew, confronted by this at last, something she’d been lying to herself about. She didn’t believe her mother was dead. Oh, she said it. She said it over and over, the way her great-uncle had always sworn by the name of the god he hated. In case that god was watching, in case fate was checking on her, because if you said it then nobody would ask what was really in your heart.
She didn’t believe; she physically couldn’t. Her mother would hold her again, and life would be warm. But Lift… she couldn’t change. What if Mother returned and didn’t recognize her? What if Mother looked for her and didn’t see her, so found some other little girl to love?
Life had been perfect for a few months. Why couldn’t it have stayed that way?
“Lift?” a trembling voice said from behind her in the shaft. The vision vanished. “I’m scared.”
Wyndle? But no. That was…
She turned sharply, and saw Gavinor in her shadow, gazing past her into the room where Navani and Dalinar were opening their perpendicularity.
From the wall next to her, Wyndle’s vine formed a mouth. “Oh dear. Did you know he was following us?”
“Of course not,” Lift hissed. “Gav! What are you doing!”
“You said,” the boy whispered, “we have to learn when to obey and when to not obey. I saw you sneak in. This is a time to not obey?” He shrank further before that light.
Storms. It was one thing to be caught peeking in on important meetings. It was quite another to be caught corrupting the starvin’ crown prince and grandson of the starvin’ Bondsmiths. They’d string her up. Worse. They’d stop letting her steal their desserts.
She tried to shoo Gav back down the small tunnel, but he was frozen in place. With a sigh, she twisted around so she could push him back before her. She’d miss whatever awesome thing Dalinar and Navani were doing, but whatever. She startled a strange purplish cremling as they crawled. Those things were all over in the air shafts. She wondered what they tasted like boiled, but had never managed to catch one. She also wondered if anyone else suspected what they really were.
She got Gav moving at last, and everything was fine until Navani gave a shout—and the light started to pull them toward it. Lift screamed as she slid backward through the tunnel, pushing hard on the walls to stop herself, but then Gav collided with her, shoving them both out into the room.
“Mistress!” Wyndle cried. “Oh my! Mistress!”
Air rushed around them in a roar, rivaling the sounds of the waterfalls that had made listening in so difficult. With the powerful light blinding her, she lost track of where she was—and Gav slipped from her grip.
They were… they were both being pulled toward that rift. Sliding across the rough ground, bumping over stones. In her panic, she tried something she’d never managed before.
She became un-awesome. Instead of slipping freely, she tried to make herself grind against the ground, maybe stick. Unfortunately, the friction just made her flip upward instead. She flew through the too-bright air straight toward the rift—
—until someone seized her by the arm and held her, a figure that cast a shadow in the wrong direction. A man all in black, grunting, struggling against the powerful rift until finally the perpendicularity vanished.
Lift slumped to the ground, dropping like a kite with no wind. She could barely see anything, just shapes and shadows, though her vision quickly began to return.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“You’re lucky I sensed you watching again,” Wit said. “I almost missed grabbing you from the air. You both owe me.”
She relaxed, and Wyndle came scuttling over.
“Oh! What was that!” Wyndle said. “Master Hoid, what happened?”
“I wish I knew,” Wit said. “Their anchors are gone. And… well, so are they.”
“Wait,” Lift said, opening her eyes. “They went in, like, totally? Bodies too?” Whenever she’d snuck into Dalinar’s visions, she’d left her body behind.
“Yes,” Wit said. “And you? No thanks for the rescue? Figures.”
Lift frowned at that until she saw the cremling from earlier fluttering away on wings that could barely hold it in the air. So when Wit had said “both” of them, he’d meant…
Lift sat bolt upright. “Gav!”
“What?” Wit asked.
“Did you grab Gavinor? He was sneaking through the tunnels behind me!” She leapt to her feet, searching around. “You saved him, right?”
“I didn’t see him,” Wit admitted.
“Why not!” she shouted. “You saw me!”
“Lift, you’re so highly Invested I’m surprised normal people can’t feel it. You glow so brightly to my life sense that you outshine anyone nearby. You’re sure Gavinor was here?”
She nodded, then the two of them looked—slowly—toward the bare portion of stone where the portal had been.
“Well, shit,” Lift said.
“You heard that from Zahel, haven’t you?” Wit said, his eyes growing distant.
“Why do people keep saying that?”
“Rosharans don’t use that particular word as an epithet,” Wit said, his expression still strange as he turned in a slow circle. “You’re only going to confuse people.”
“The best words are the ones most people don’t understand.”
“That is literally the opposite of how language should function.”
“Yeah, ’cuz you make sense all the time. Anyway, what are you doing? Should we be panicking?”
“Design and I are peeking into the Cognitive Realm,” Wit said. “In case we were lucky, and the Bondsmiths dropped into Shadesmar.”
“And?” Lift guessed.
“I see the remnants of one corpse—Malwish, by that broken mask—and a destroyed chamber. That’s curious. But no sign of Gav, Dalinar, or Navani. Unfortunately, it seems they did go into the Spiritual Realm.”
“Which means…?”
Wit focused on her, then drew his lips to a line. “We have to hope that Dalinar finds his way back in the next eight days.”
“And if he doesn’t?” She glanced at Wyndle, who had shrunken into a small pile of vines, whimpering softly. Storms. Gav would be terrified. Could she do anything?
“This complicates everything,” Wit said. “The contract has provisions for Dalinar’s death before the deadline, his stalling for time, or if his arrival is prevented by another. But if he doesn’t show up because of his own choices… I believe that will be a forfeit.”
“Meaning we lose.”
“Worse,” Wit said. “It will be as if Dalinar broke the contract, violating his oath. As Dalinar represents Honor, the power of which is maintaining Odium’s place on this planet… if Dalinar doesn’t show up, that will liberate Odium entirely. He’ll be free to rampage in the cosmere again.”
Storms. Maybe Gav wasn’t the only one in trouble. Except… “Don’t we want Odium to leave?”
“Odium unbound would be terrible,” Wit said, crossing to where the portal had opened. He knelt to press his fingers on the stone. “If he weren’t being held in check by fear of the other Shards, you have no idea the destruction he would cause.”
“Sure, right,” Lift said. “But we’ve had to deal with him for… like forever. Surely someone else can do it.”
Wit didn’t reply.
“Can you do something?” Lift asked, stepping up to him and squatting down. “Bring them back? The times I cheated my way in, I had Dalinar to guide me.”
“I don’t know,” Wit said softly. “I warned them. I will… try to think of something that will help. It might take time.” He looked toward the door. “That was a knock.”
“You can hear that over the rush of the water?”
He nodded, standing.
“Do we… tell them?” Lift asked.
“Depends,” Wit said. “How eager are you to start a massive tower-wide riot? Dalinar and Navani are the glue that holds together the nation and the Radiants. I think the only thing keeping people from full-on panic is the belief that somehow the Blackthorn will handle the upcoming contest. If people find out he’s gone…”
“Right,” she said as another knock came, this time louder. “What do we do, then?”
“We do the smart thing, of course,” Wit said, starting to glow as he drew in Stormlight. “We lie.”
* * *
As night fully took the landscape, Kaladin had to admit defeat. His stew was a disaster. It tasted like crem.
Kaladin had helped Rock dozens of times, though Huio, Lopen, and Dabbid had proven to be the most capable. Still, it shouldn’t have been that hard for him. Just cut everything up and toss it in. Part of the reason he’d brought such a large pack was because he’d requested spices and vegetables.
He squatted by his little cook pot, a poor substitute for Rock’s great cauldron, frustrated. Maybe more pepper? He sprinkled it in and tried the mess, which now tasted like slightly spicier crem. He groaned in frustration and slumped on his rock. First moon was up, illuminating Szeth as he lay on his back on the grass—no bedroll, only a blanket as a pillow. He was munching on a ration bar.
“Not working?” Syl whispered. She sat on a rock nearby, full sized, violet-fringed ko-takama skirt rippling in the wind.
“It just needs to simmer,” Kaladin lied.
“Did you use… chunks of ration bars in that?”
“Needed meat. Ration bars are basically jerky.”
Perhaps that hadn’t been the best choice. But, well, maybe… maybe if it cooked longer? He halfheartedly offered up another pinch of spice to the bubbling pot. But storms, he’d taken so long that Szeth had already eaten his own dinner. The whole point of an evening stew was to draw people in, getting them to open up as they ate something unexpectedly good.
Only Szeth didn’t seem to care about what tasted good.
Try anyway, Kaladin thought at himself. Dalinar asked you.
“So,” Kaladin said, turning away from the fire to face Szeth, “this is your homeland.”
“Obviously,” Szeth said.
“Your house anywhere close?”
“Nearby,” Szeth said.
“Want to visit?”
Szeth shrugged, his eyes now closed. “There is nothing for me there.”
“Still might help.”
“I told you that I need no help.”
Kaladin turned and stirred the stew, mostly to be doing something. “I used to think that too,” he said, loud enough Szeth could hear from behind. “Actually, I used to say it. I always knew I needed help. Part of you does too, Szeth. It’s not weakness to admit it. We can quiet those voices.”
“You misunderstand,” he replied. “When I say I do not need help, it is not because I lack the ability to recognize my faults. It is not normal that I am chased by the voices of the dead. Likewise, I recognize that others are not so daunted by decisions as I am.
“When I say I need no help, it is because this is how I should be. I have murdered many innocents. I chose to follow the broken traditions of a people who were so scared of the Truth, they exiled me rather than face it. Because of this, I deserve suffering. It is right. If you were to heal it, you would do something immoral. Therefore I tell you I do not want your ‘help.’ Leave me alone.”
“It’s not immoral to stop hurting, Szeth,” Kaladin said, looking back again.
Szeth just closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
Damnation. Kaladin gritted his teeth. Then he forced himself to get out the flute and lay Wit’s paper explanations in front of him. He needed something to relax him, and maybe this would help.
He was wrong.
It had been barely a day since Wit had shown him the positionings, but Kaladin fumbled as he tried to replicate them. He first couldn’t make a single sound. Then what followed was a breathy, weak noise, nothing like the beautiful and light music Wit had made.
After a half hour of stubbornly trying to play, Kaladin tossed the flute down—causing it to stick in the soft soil like a knife in wood. He heaved himself off the rock by the fire and stalked out into the night, kicking at the stupid grass as it refused to get out of his way.
Syl stepped up beside him in the moonlit darkness. She was better at being of help than he was, because she knew to stay quiet while he breathed in and out, trying to exhale away his frustrations.
“I can’t do this, Syl,” he said. “The only thing I’ve ever been good at is war. Even when I was forced on leave, I found a way to fight for the tower. I am useless unless I’m killing something.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“But I don’t,” Kaladin snapped. “I’ve always been too good at killing. You recognize that; it’s what drew you to me.”
“I was drawn,” she said, “to willpower, determination, and a desire to protect. Yes, I like the way you dance with the wind when you use a spear, but it’s not the killing, Kaladin. It never was.”
He didn’t respond, staring off into the darkness.
“This is your dark brain talking,” she said. “You weren’t killing when you rescued Bridge Four. You pulled thirty men out of the darkness and the chasms, then you forged them into something wonderful.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I forged them into killers.”
“A family,” Syl said. “Don’t try to distort it. I was there, Kaladin. You did it because you couldn’t stand to let them keep dying. You did it out of love.”
He glanced to the side and saw her staring at him indignantly, full sized, impossible to ignore. Storming woman. She was right.
“Szeth,” she said, “is no more hopeless than they were. You remember how unwilling Rock was at the start?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, thinking back to days that—though excruciating at the time—were now fond to him. Sneaking through the night with Rock and Teft, fetching bundles of knobweed. Hearing Rock laugh for the first time, describing what he’d done to Sadeas’s meal.
They were both gone now. Teft dead. Rock maybe executed by his people. Still, Kaladin forced the dark thoughts behind him and presented good thoughts, like soldiers with spears, to keep them away. Syl was right. He could claim many things about himself, but he couldn’t justify the argument that he was only a killer. And life was good. He had felt it earlier.
It didn’t banish the darkness, but active thoughts, as counters to it, really did help.
“I just don’t know what I am anymore,” Kaladin said softly, more honestly, “or who. If I’m not a soldier, what is there to me? Wit told me to figure it out, but that terrifies me, Syl. I can’t be a surgeon like my father wants. I’m not one for a quiet life seeing patients about their bruised arms and strange coughs.”
“What about their bruised minds,” Syl said, “and strange thoughts?” She looked back toward the small fire.
Remarkably, Szeth had decided to try the stew. Oh, storms. Kaladin went hurrying over with an excuse ready.
Szeth had finished his bowl by the time he arrived. “I would eat this again, if you made it.”
Kaladin frowned. Had… simmering it made it work? He tried a bite, and found it exactly as bad as before. Except, well, it was probably better than field rations. Jerky with mashed-up, dried katfruit wasn’t the most appealing meal either.
Kaladin had been comparing his stew to Rock’s masterpieces. An impossible benchmark. But when the sole competition was field rations…
Szeth stood up, then nodded to the darkness that was the basin of Shinovar. “This is wrong.”
“Wrong? I don’t see anything.”
“There should be candle lights,” Szeth explained. “Fires at the homesteads and villages. I see only darkness. It’s like they’ve all simply vanished…”
Kaladin stepped up beside him, gazing out at the ocean of black.
“I… lied to you earlier,” Szeth admitted. “I do love my people, Kaladin. My exile makes it feel like I don’t care about anything, and sometimes I tell myself I don’t deserve to care. But… the exile was—for so long—my proof that I love them. I want to help my people. That is… more important to me than the quest, though that makes me a bad Skybreaker.”
“We will help them, Szeth,” Kaladin promised.
“Perhaps we will start by visiting my family homestead. To… see if it shows us anything.” Szeth handed back his bowl, then walked off and lay down, pulling his blanket over himself and turning away from Kaladin.
Well, that hadn’t been the laughter over a stewpot Kaladin had wanted, but it was something. He settled down and ate a bowl, finishing off what was left in the pot. He tried not to compare it to Rock’s stew, and it helped.
He didn’t want to get into the habit of lowering his standards, but conversely, never being willing to reassess was just as bad. Maybe he was expecting too much from Szeth too quickly. Kaladin had been patient with Bridge Four. He could show the same patience here, despite the tension of a world close to breaking.
With that in mind, he decided to pick up the flute and give it another go. He walked a distance away to not bother Szeth and forced himself to practice, and felt wind blowing across him as he did. A peaceful wind, of this place, where the grass wasn’t afraid. A wind he found comforting.
“Is that you?” Kaladin asked, lowering the flute.
Yes, the Wind whispered in his ear, causing Syl to perk up where she’d been sitting on the ground nearby. The music the ancient one taught you… it calls to me…
“I’ve done as you asked,” Kaladin said. “I’m here. I’m still not sure why, but I’m here. Can you tell me?”
Odium changes. His goals change. I… can speak now… when it was so hard for years…
“That has to do with Odium?” Syl asked.
He changes. His attention is not on me, the Wind said. The Stones have always had the capacity to speak, but only now started doing so. I am always here… Now I warn. Odium is made anew. This is dangerous.
Stay… Watch. I will watch too. I do not have answers yet, but I feel better that you are here. Together we must preserve a remnant of Honor. Somehow…
Kaladin thought on that as the Wind faded. He found himself again thinking of his friends, fighting without him. Remembering the trauma of Teft’s death. It was a fresh wound. He couldn’t fixate on it, he knew. Not and become a new person, like Wit said.
Eventually he went back to the flute. The Wind didn’t return, and his musical attempts were just as pathetic as they’d been earlier. But storm it, there was one thing that was reliably true about Kaladin Stormblessed. Regardless of his job or his location, even if you took away his ability to fight… he was still the most stubborn fool of a person who ever lived.
So he kept right on blowing awful notes on that flute. Right until he looked up and found the Herald Ishar standing in front of him.
* * *
The tower was strange on the other side. Really strange. And Lopen was, sure, an expert in strange things. He had plenty of strange cousins. He collected them.
So, he could say with authority this place was strange. Non-strange places didn’t glow. It was like an entire building had become Radiant, sucked in some Stormlight, and was now threatening to stick Huio to the wall.
Anticipationspren followed him like a posse as he and the other two Windrunners walked to the site of the explosion. This place was a perfect replica of the tower, only made of glowing glass stuff. The tower said waking it had restored it to its natural state. Which made Lopen wonder why his arm wasn’t made of glowing crystal on this side. That would be much better than the fleshy one. Not that he minded—it was good to have two arms again, as now he could eat chouta and point at things at the same time.
But a glowing crystal arm would be pretty deevy.
“You think,” he asked, “if I thought about it a lot, my arm would turn to crystal?”
Rua, his spren, shrugged. On this side, Rua was around three and a half feet tall—with messy hair, boundless energy, and the proportions of a child. He liked to skip rather than walk, and Lopen had heard that in his home city, Rua could float around all the time. Huio found it fascinating, and was always talking about it.
Thoughts of floating spren and crystal arms evaporated as Lopen reached the site of the blast. “Here, sir,” Isasik said. “We were in here…”
A smoking, broken chamber. All four walls had been cracked, and the one by the hallway had been completely destroyed. The crystalline ground had been blasted open in a pit, and the ceiling was a fractured web.
One broken corpse lay among the destruction.
“You’re certain?” Lopen asked.
“Yes, sir. When I returned to help after rescuing the guards, this is what I found—with that one dead man, who was so broken it made me worry…”
“What?” Lopen said. “That the others ended up as person-mush?”
Isasik looked ill, but nodded.
“There ain’t no person-mush in here,” Lopen said. “This blast was big, but not big enough—sure—to leave us without some kind of sign. Honestly, I expected to encounter some Shallan bits as we walked up that hallway. Pleasant to not find any.”
“So…” Isasik said.
“So, we have to assume they went through the perpendicularity,” Lopen said. “Or otherwise escaped.”
“That would transfer them back into the Physical Realm though,” Isasik said. “None of them are there.”
Lopen didn’t reply. Something was up. Navani wasn’t talking, and so the Sibling wasn’t talking, but he could smell it when something strange had happened. He was an expert in strange. The literal walls had secrets. Important, terrible secrets.
Which was super-okay with Lopen. If important people had it in hand, then he didn’t need to worry!
“I’m going to assume others have it covered,” he told Isasik. “Come on. We need to fly the Mink’s people to Herdaz.”
“But—”
“If they’re dead, can we do anything for them?”
“Well, no,” Isasik said, floating down to check on the dead man, who was very, very dead. Enough remained to tell it wasn’t any of their friends.
“If they escaped,” Lopen continued, “and don’t want anyone to know, will we help them by outing them?”
“No,” he said. “You know how Lightweavers are…”
“If they vanished into another realm, dimension, or place, is there anything we can do for them?”
“No,” Isasik said, floating up again. “That would take a Bondsmith.”
“So we report back,” Lopen said. “We’ve searched to make sure they aren’t being held captive. Now we have to assume it’s all going to work out, because whatever is going on, it’s bigger than we are.”
With that, he started toward the Oathgates. Rua hurried to catch up with him, and the spren—storm him—had a glowing crystal arm now.
“Show-off,” Lopen said, then hesitated and spoke more softly. “What do you think happened to them, naco? Why isn’t Navani more worried? Renarin is her family, and Shallan too. Navani shrugged at the news; she didn’t even put down her chouta. Have you ever seen her shrug before?” He paused. “Have you ever seen her eat chouta before?”
Rua pointed up at the distant sun, just barely visible through the refracting glass of the tower walls on this side.
“The sun?” Lopen said. “No… the realm beyond, where gods live. You think they really went there?”
Rua nodded enthusiastically.
“Well, Damnation,” Lopen said. “I guess, sure, they’re at least in the correct vicinity for some divine help…”
* * *
It was him. Ishar, standing right there in the night, on the grassy hillside. Kaladin hadn’t seen him approach, hadn’t heard anything, but he was there.
Syl gasped, getting up. Ishar turned away from the moon to study them. Kaladin had memorized the descriptions from Dalinar and Sigzil, but he didn’t need them. There was a force to this man, a feeling. Yes, he appeared like a normal person, with that ardentlike beard and bald head. Almost like… like he was a prototype for the religious order that had come after. Blue robes. Golden sash. Heavy bracelets.
But there was more unseen. The way the hairs on Kaladin’s arms stood up. The way the last vestiges of wind had suddenly vanished. The way the man could look at Kaladin and seem to see too much. That air… the very way he stood… reminded Kaladin of Ash, one of the other Heralds.
Ishar stepped toward Syl, his eyes narrowing. She raised her chin and did not grow small, though he suspected she wanted to flee. A part of Kaladin did too—wanted to be away from the gaze of this being who wasn’t entirely human.
But this was why he’d come.
“I do not… know you,” Ishar said, turning to Kaladin. “I know every other piece moving on this board. But you… I thought you were insignificant. Now you are here with the Truthless, bonded to the Ancient Daughter. What is your name?”
“Kaladin,” he replied. “Sometimes called Stormblessed.”
“Stormblessed. I do not remember blessing you.” Ishar frowned. “You are Connected to Dalinar, the false champion. And to Szeth, my servant. How?”
Kaladin steeled himself. “I was sent to help you.”
“What help needs a god?” Ishar asked.
“We all need help sometimes,” Kaladin said. “Do you… sometimes feel overwhelmed? Like you can’t trust your thoughts?” Storms. Did that sound silly?
“Dalinar sent you,” Ishar said. “I see now. He wants to confuse me, convince me I am not a god. I do not need your help, child. Your master has done enough damage already.”
“Damage?” Syl asked.
“Damage,” Ishar said, turning to regard the lightless, rolling Shin hills. “Your Bondsmith pretender attacked me. Changed me. I… saw things I thought I’d forgotten. In that moment, Tezim died, but I need that name no longer. I can be Ishar, who Ascended to the position of the Almighty.”
Dalinar had mentioned this. At the instant Navani had become a Bondsmith, Ishar had seen into the Spiritual Realm and grown lucid for a short time. So… was there an aftereffect here? Was he doing better?
Dalinar had mentioned oaths. If another were sworn near Ishar… perhaps he would return to himself. An unconventional means of therapy, but maybe…
Maybe Kaladin needed to appeal to the Herald, instead of the man. The Herald who had defended humankind for so long.
“Ishar,” Kaladin said. “We need your help.”
“Yes,” he said. “Your enemies crush and outmaneuver you because you haven’t come to me. I have plans to deal with them, and the greater threats beyond. Become my disciple, and I will show you.”
“We can… talk about that,” Kaladin said, glancing at Syl for support. “We have Ash and Taln with us, back at Urithiru. Your friends.”
Ishar sniffed. “Useless. Both of them.” He met Kaladin’s eyes. “Do you know what I do for them, child? I founded the Oathpact, so I can siphon some of their pains onto myself. I bear their darkness. Each of them would be crushed by it, were it not for me. You’ve seen Taln? He is insensate, so in the thrall of the darkness?”
“Yes,” Syl said.
“That is because I do not bear his darkness as I carry the others,” Ishar said. “They would all be as helpless if not for me. I am the conflux of all darkness and sorrow. Their pains are upon me. And still I stand before you. I am a god.”
“I just want to—” Kaladin said.
“I had not foreseen you, but perhaps I should have, considering your spiritweb and Connections.” He nodded toward Szeth in the distance. “Szeth has come to fulfill the task I set for him many years ago. His path will be difficult. If you would have my ear, prove to me that you can be of service.”
“In what way?” Syl asked.
“In helping me prepare for the end,” Ishar said softly. “The Truthless has returned at last. This land needs him.”
“Ishar,” Kaladin said. “I want to talk about the way you feel. Um… I want to—”
“I will speak to you,” Ishar said, “when the pilgrimage is finished. When the task is done.”
“But—”
Ishar’s eyes came alight, glowing as if with Stormlight—but manyfold. Beams of light that blinded Kaladin as he roared. “If you wish further audience with your god, then see his will done, child! This is the privilege of any disciple.”
The light faded, and Ishar was gone.
Storms.
“Great,” Syl said. “That went well.”
“Well?” Kaladin said. “He spouted nonsense at me, refused to listen, then vanished.”
“He also didn’t vaporize us or anything,” Syl said, floating a foot or so up into the air, shining softly in the darkness, hair blowing once more as the breeze returned. “And he’s crazy—so, you know, some nonsense is expected. He noticed you and offered you a chance to talk to him again.”
“He’ll talk to us again,” Kaladin said, “if we help Szeth do… whatever it is he’s supposed to do? We don’t have any idea what that is!” He ran a hand through his hair, but calmed himself. “That said, he seemed… a little better than Sigzil and Dalinar described him. I think.”
“We can help him, Kaladin,” she said, resting incorporeal hands on his arm. “We can try to help them all.”
“Not in time for Dalinar,” Kaladin said. “No telling how long Szeth’s little quest here will take? If Ishar won’t talk to me until it’s over…”
But, well, Wit had warned him. There was a task here that was greater than bringing Ishar to Dalinar—a task the Wind needed him to complete.
Preserve a remnant of Honor…
“What did he mean?” Syl wondered. “He said that Szeth was his servant. How?”
“Who knows,” Kaladin said. “He calls me a disciple and thinks he’s the Almighty.” He took a deep breath and packed up his flute, his music papers, and his gemstone light. “But… I guess you’re right. That could have gone far worse, and we can ask if Szeth has any thoughts tomorrow. For now though, I need some sleep.”
They hiked to the campfire, where Szeth was snoring quietly. Kaladin packed up dinner and banked the fire, absorbed in his thoughts. They tried to turn dark, but he kept battering them back with positive thoughts, like soldiers fighting on his behalf. Reminders that he had succeeded in the past, and could succeed again. Reminders that an idea wasn’t true just because it entered his head.
The darkness was still there and wanted him to believe things would never change, but this little victory proved the opposite. Because while he might never be rid of the thoughts permanently, he was done letting them win.
Hola, Sanderfans! How’s about that cliffhanger last week? We saw Shallan making a huge, huge mistake in not realizing that the three guards at the Oathgate in Shadesmar were the three storming Ghostbloods she was looking for. Come on, girl… do we need Veil to reemerge? Just kidding… just kidding. (We don’t want that to happen—no how, no way.) Then we had Dalinar and Navani preparing to undergo Wit’s experiment of popping into the Spiritual Realm for a spell. Mraize kind of messed that up, in spectacular fashion… This week we’re moving on to chapter 33 and another freakin’ Sanderlanche. Let’s dish about it! (That means “talk about it,” for you young folks.)
Oh, and be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly (likely) contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Chapter 33 is titled “The Conflux of All Darkness and Shadow” and if that doesn’t sound foreboding, I don’t know what does. That feeling is only increased by the fact that the chapter arch is looking more and more cracked and unstable… and this is only Day 2!
The chapter begins with Lift, our fave little Edgedancer, who’s not so little anymore. She’s been hiding and spying on Dalinar, Navani, and Wit with… someone. She watches as Dalinar opens the perpendicularity and she sees a version of herself, if she’d stayed in Iri and grown up unafraid of changing and not caring who noticed. Then she admits to herself that she doesn’t think her mother is dead. And we knew that she’s been afraid of growing up in case her mother didn’t recognize her when she saw Lift again. She’s lamenting the short time during which her life had seemed perfect when she hears someone telling her they’re scared.
We knew that someone else was with her, as Shallan and company had glimpsed two souls lurking. It’s Gavinor, and she is surprised to see him there. He says that she told him that sometimes they needed to disobey and hey, he was just taking the lesson seriously, right? She tries to get hurry him back down the tunnel—taking a moment to notice purple cremlings, and wondering if other people suspect what they really are—and then she hears Navani shout.
Suddenly, Lift is being pulled backward toward the room, but manages to stop herself—until Gav slams into her and they both fall into the room. She loses Gavinor as they’re both pulled toward the light. She tries to increase her friction but that doesn’t help, and then someone grabs her. A man all in black whose shadow goes the wrong way? What?
Then the perpendicularity is gone and Lift slumps to the floor. Wit says they’re lucky he saved them, and they both owe him, but… when she looks around, Gavinor isn’t there. She asks Wit if he grabbed him and he says he hadn’t seen him. They look to the stone where the perpendicularity had been and Lift swears. Wit knows she’s been talking to Zahel because people on Roshar don’t say “shit.” Meanwhile, he peeks into Shadesmar to see if the Bondsmiths happened to drop in there. But no luck, he just sees a dead Malwish man in a demolished room. Wit tells her they’ll have to hope that Dalinar will find his way back in the next eight days; otherwise, the contract will likely be forfeit and Odium would be unbound, and free of Roshar.
Then Wit hears a knock at the door and realizes that they’ll have to lie about the whereabouts of the Bondsmiths because their absence would likely throw the tower into chaos. What a lovely thought.
POV shift!
Kaladin has to admit that he makes terrible stew. He apparently put ration bars in it, which might not have been the best choice, and adding more spices doesn’t help the taste. He is, to say the least, disappointed. Szeth is already eating his own ration bar, which defeats the purpose of Kaladin making stew, which is supposed to “draw people in.” He tries to engage Szeth anyway, asking if his home is nearby and if he’d like to visit it. Szeth says that there’s nothing there for him. Kaladin counters that by saying it might help but Szeth says he doesn’t need help. But he doesn’t mean that there’s nothing wrong with him; rather, he means that he deserves suffering and tells Kaladin flat out to leave him alone.
Kaladin pulls out his flute and tries to play, but he doesn’t do very well. He gets frustrated and throws the flute down and gets up and walks away. Syl follows and Kaladin tells her that he’s not useful unless he’s killing something. Which is so not true. He protects, he helps people, even when he’s not killing. He basically created therapy! That’s helped people, and will help even more people as Kaladin’s efforts are duplicated and the practice spreads to others on Roshar. He’s so not useless! Poor Kaladin. I just wanna hug him.
“This is your dark brain talking,” she said. “You weren’t killing when you rescued Bridge Four. You pulled thirty men out of the darkness and the chasms, then you forged them into something wonderful.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I forged them into killers.”
“A family,” Syl said. “Don’t try to distort it. I was there, Kaladin. You did it because you couldn’t stand to let them keep dying. You did it out of love.”
::sniffle::
Kaladin realizes that Syl is right and that he could drive away the bad thoughts with good. He knows that things have been good lately. Syl says that Szeth is no more stubborn than Rock was, and Kaladin looks back to the fire and sees Szeth eating his stew. He hurries back to the fire as Szeth is finishing his bowl of stew and Szeth says that he would eat it again if Kaladin made it. So Kaladin has a higher expectation of how stew should taste than Szeth does. I find this hilarious. Szeth liked Kaladin’s bad stew! I love it.
Then Szeth announces there’s something wrong, that there should be light from candles and fires at homesteads in the valley. He admits that he cares about his people and wants to help them. Kaladin says they will help them and then Szeth turns in. It wasn’t quite the chat over stew that Kaladin had been hoping for, but it seems like a small breakthrough: Szeth had opened up, if only a bit.
Kaladin tries to practice with the flute again and the Wind speaks to him. It says that Odium is made anew, which is dangerous. You think? It tells Kaladin to watch and says it will watch, too, and that together they must somehow “preserve a remnant of Honor.” Which is really interesting language to use. When Dalinar is searching for honor over in the Spiritual Realm. We assume.
Kaladin continues to practice the flute after the Wind departs, Then he looks up and finds the Herald Ishar before him. What the what?
POV shift!
Lopen is in Shadesmar with Isasik and he tells him that they found the room that way when they returned from rescuing the guards. All of the walls were broken and the wall facing the hallway was completely destroyed. All they found was the “broken” dead man and they had been kind of afraid that Shallan and the others might have been reduced to “person-mush.” A Lopen word, of course. Since there was no person-mush and they weren’t in the Physical Realm, Lopen surmises that they went through the perpendicularity. He thinks about how Navani isn’t talking and therefore, the Sibling isn’t talking.
He tells Isasik they need to go fly the Mink’s people to Herdaz, but Isasik remains concerned about Shallan. Lopen says that they can’t help the others if they’re dead. And if they escaped and don’t want to be found then it wouldn’t help to out them. Finally, if they’re in some other realm, Lopen says they couldn’t help, anyway. So they need to report back and go about their business.
He does ask his spren, Rua, where he thinks they went and Rua points at the distant sun. Lopen realized that he is indicating the place where the gods reside. He also mentions that Navani seems unconcerned, eating chouta and shrugging. So… who is playing Navani? Wit? A Lightweaver? That is a question for another day, because…
POV shift!
Ishar regards Kaladin and Syl, and says that he doesn’t know Kaladin. That he thought Kaladin was insignificant, but here he was with the Truthless and bonded to the Ancient Daughter. He wants to know Kaladin’s name and when Kaladin mentions that he’s sometimes called “Stormblessed,” Ishar says he didn’t remember blessing him…which almost made me snort laugh, Sanderfans. That right there was funny.
Kaladin says he’s there to help Ishar and asks if he ever feels overwhelmed or like he couldn’t trust his thoughts. And how do we expect Ishar to respond to that? Hmm… I’m going to guess, with disdain. Ah, yes, Ishar realizes that Dalinar had sent Kaladin and says he doesn’t need Kaladin’s help. He states that Dalinar attacked him and he lost the name Tezim but that now he can be Ishar, who Ascended to the position of the Almighty. Yeah. Disdainful and just as arrogant as he had been in Emul.
Kaladin tries appealing to the Herald, saying that they need his help. He tells Ishar that Ash and Taln are back at the tower and Ishar calls them useless. He says that he can “siphon some of their pains” onto him, all of them but Taln. That if he didn’t do so, they’d all be as “insensate” as Taln. Ishar tells Kaladin that if he wants to talk to him then they will speak only when Szeth’s pilgrimage was at an end. Then he disappears.
Syl, always leaning toward levity, says that since he didn’t vaporize them, it went well. Oh, Syl. Never change. Seriously… don’t storming change. ::stern look:: Syl reassures Kaladin that they can help Ishar, but he feels that they can’t do so in time to help Dalinar. But then he remembers Wit’s warning—that whatever he has to do in Shinovar might be more important than Dalinar’s contest.
Syl wonders what Ishar had meant by saying Szeth was his servant and Kaladin pretty much disregards that since Ishar called him a disciple and thinks he’s the Almighty. Kaladin decides to talk to Szeth about it in the morning and packs up his flute and papers. He ponders his feelings and considers his current state of mind:
The darkness was still there and wanted him to believe things would never change, but this little victory proved the opposite. Because while he might never be rid of the thoughts permanently, he was done letting them win.
Wow. I wonder how that would be, not letting the dark thoughts win. Maybe someday, I’ll figure it out, too. ::shops for a flute::
POV sh—
Oh, wait… no more POV shifts! It’s the end of Day 2! And no Dalinar or Navani POV! What happened to them? Where did they go? Are they okay? Is Gavinor okay? And what is Szeth going to do in Shinovar? How is he going to cleanse a whole country? A whole people? Why do I have so many questions? Tell us all of your thoughts and theories, Sanderfans. We truly want to hear them!
Lyndsey’s Commentary
Our chapter arch icons for this week are the Joker & Ishi (Ishar), Herald of Luck, patron of the Bondsmiths. His attributes are Pious/Guiding and his role is Priest. The Joker is likely here due to Wit’s presence in the beginning, and the same goes for Ishar. Seems pretty cut and dried.
So if you’re anything like me, you might have trouble keeping all the excerpts from the beginning of the chapters in mind when reading week by week. In order to help facilitate a deeper analysis, here is the full excerpt from the in-book The Way of Kings presented in its entirety:
As I approached the first crossroads, I met a family seeking a new life. This family did not speak my language, but we could both write glyphs, which proved facilitative in our conversation. As I shared their kindly cookfire, I learned some of their story. They had left behind family and hereditary home, something many would find unconscionable. What I learned from their glyphs scribbled in dust trembled my soul: it was because of me, and the stories they’d heard of my teachings, that they had left. They’d gone to seek a land some told them was mythical. A land where the king was a holy man, and was concerned with the plight of the farmer beyond the appropriation of taxes. I let them pass with two lies. First, I dared not tell them this dusty traveler with whom they shared a meal was in fact that very king they had heard of. The second was that I did not explain that very king had abdicated his throne and walked away from his kingdom. After we parted with affection the next day, I watched their cart roll into the distance, pulled by the father with two children riding in the rear, the mother striding with a pack on her back. Dust blew with them, for dust goes where it wishes, ignoring all borders. Would that men could always do the same—if I could enshrine one law in all further legal codes, it would be this. Let people leave if they wish. The Almighty has given us the limbs to move and the minds to decide. Let no monarch take away what was divinely granted. The Heralds also taught that all should have the sacred right of freedom of movement, to escape a bad situation. Or simply to seek a brighter dawn.
Interesting. I wonder if this is meant to indicate that the only remaining option for some of our characters will be to leave Roshar? With all of the worldhoppers showing up in these later entries, I think this might be a possibility. Does this mean that Dalinar is doomed to failure, and there’s a mass exodus is in our future…? Or perhaps it will only be one or two.
I continued on my way, contemplating dust and the nature of desertion. For I, as king, had walked away from my duties, and it was different for me. Had I not renounced a throne the Almighty had granted, and in so doing, undermined my very own words? Was I abandoning that which was divinely given me? I do not have answers, and there will always be some who denounce me for this decision I made. But let me teach a truth here that is often misunderstood: sometimes, it is not weakness, but strength, to stand up and walk away.
Strength before weakness, eh? I like this subversion of the common interpretation of strength. In most cases, it’s expected that the “strong” thing to do is to stick things out no matter what. To keep trying. Nohadon, however, is presenting another option and asserting that that which is so often attributed to strength can indeed be the opposite. The decision to stand up and walk away is sometimes the right choice. Anyone who’s ever been in a toxic or abusive relationship can relate to and understand this one, I suspect.
Those who offer blanket condemnation are fools, for each situation deserves its own consideration, and rarely can you simply apply a saying—even one of mine—to a situation without serious weighing of the context. As I fear not the child with a weapon he cannot lift, I will never fear the mind of a man who does not think. So think, my dear reader. As a soldier retreats from a battle he cannot win. As a woman rejects a home that shows her only violence. As a family finds hope in walking away from dying fields during a season of too much rain. As a king leaves a people with the gift of his absence, so that they may grow and solve their own problems, without his hand to always guide them. May you have the courage someday to walk away. And the wisdom to recognize that day when it arrives.
—From The Way of Kings, fourth parable
Sanderson never includes these things needlessly and this doesn’t have any other obvious purpose I can see (for instance, I don’t see a character- or setting-related reason for its inclusion), so it must be foreshadowing of something plot-wise. What decision will someone need to walk away from? Will it be Dalinar? Kaladin? Shallan? Szeth?
All of them?
Lift
What if she’d stayed there, in Rall Elorim, instead of . . . wherever the wind put her? Would she have become that girl—that confident young woman—with gleaming hair, wearing an Iriali short shirt, her shoulders and midriff exposed? As if she didn’t care that people saw she was growing up?
This version of her didn’t seem afraid of anything.
I don’t know about you, dear Cosmere Chicken, but I don’t often think of Lift as afraid, because that’s not how she thinks of herself. She presents herself as being so confident that it’s hard to recognize that for what it is: a clever mask she wears to conceal her true nature from the world, and even from herself. She’s the classic case of “fake it till you make it,” but she’s going to need to come to terms with her fear eventually. You can only run from something like that for so long before it eats you away from the inside. She can’t continue pretending that she’s not growing up and changing forever.
But Lift… she couldn’t change. What if Mother returned and didn’t recognize her? What if Mother looked for her and didn’t see her, so found some other little girl to love?
Well, that explains a lot about Lift, doesn’t it? That level of denial isn’t good for anyone, though. Again, she’s going to need to come to terms with not only the fact that she’s growing up and changing, but that her mother is gone.
Unless she’s not…? What if, over the course of the back five set of books (in which Sanderson has said that Lift will be a main POV character), we find out that her mother didn’t die and she finds her again?!
She startled a strange purplish cremling as they crawled. Those things were all over in the air shafts.
Which Dysian Aimian is spying…? (I’m beginning to wonder if the different colors indicate different swarms. We’ve seen this purple variety a few times, but other colors have also been noted.) Well, Hoid saved them, whichever one it was.
Szeth
“When I say I need no help, it is because this is how I should be. I have murdered many innocents. I chose to follow the broken traditions of a people who were so scared of the Truth, they exiled me rather than face it. Because of this, I deserve suffering.
Szeth really is the quintessential emo angst-lord, isn’t he? He reminds me a bit of Angel in Buffy the Vampire Slayer in this respect. Whether the self-flagellation is warranted is debatable, but one person would certainly say it’s not, and that one person is currently trying and failing to make some nice stew over the campfire…
“I do love my people, Kaladin. My exile makes it feel like I don’t care about anything, and sometimes I tell myself I don’t deserve to care. But… the exile was—for so long—my proof that I love them. I want to help my people. That is… more important to me than the quest, though that makes me a bad Skybreaker.”
What’s this?! Szeth opening up and being honest about his emotions?! There really is something special about that stew, whether it tastes like crem or no. In all seriousness, it’s nice to see this. It’s been hard to see anything beyond Szeth’s self-hatred for the entire time we’ve known him, so this admittance of something that he loves is really enlightening.
Kaladin
“The only thing I’ve ever been good at is war. Even when I was forced on leave, I found a way to fight for the tower. I am useless unless I’m killing something.”
Ah, this old chestnut again. I’m actually glad to see this, if only because it’s proof that Kal hasn’t changed overnight. That would be completely unrealistic, in my opinion. He still has these same doubts, that same darkness. The difference is that he’s now actively working to face them and move past them. If we can take no other silver linings from Teft’s death, we can at least take this. I like to think that Teft would be happy to know that, even if he’s gone, Kaladin is starting to be able to claw his way out of depression.
“This is your dark brain talking,” she said. “You weren’t killing when you rescued Bridge Four. You pulled thirty men out of the darkness and the chasms, then you forged them into something wonderful.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I forged them into killers.”
“A family,” Syl said.
Yeah! Way to go, Syl. She’s so good for him, and she’s telling the whole truth here. Yes, Kaladin did teach them to kill. But he also taught them to protect. To heal. To care. To love. And, most importantly, to live. When you’re deep in the throes of depression (and I’m speaking from experience on this one), it can be so, so hard to see the good you put into the world. While Kaladin’s starting to be able to pull himself free, sometimes you still need that helping hand from the outside. And that’s what Syl is.
He could claim many things about himself, but he couldn’t justify the argument that he was only a killer. And life was good. He had felt it earlier.
It didn’t banish the darkness, but active thoughts, as counters to it, really did help.
I find it somewhat amusing that Kaladin’s finally using on himself the same tools and methods he’s spent the entire series teaching others. Giving Bridge Four jobs, giving them purpose, was giving them active thoughts and techniques to combat their depression. Now it’s your turn, Kal ol’ boy!
“I just don’t know what I am anymore,” Kaladin said softly, more honestly, “or who. If I’m not a soldier, what is there to me?
We saw this thought reflected a lot in the last book, too. And Syl’s response is perfect; reminding him of all the varied parts of himself that he tries so hard not to see.
The darkness was still there and wanted him to believe things would never change, but this little victory proved the opposite. Because while he might never be rid of the thoughts permanently, he was done letting them win.
YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAH Kal! I am so here for this new, actively fighting the darkness and depression Kaladin. He’s an inspiration in this regard, and I hope that he helps so many others in the real world to face and overcome their own dark thoughts. (He’s certainly helped me.)
Ishar
I founded the Oathpact, so I can siphon some of their pains onto myself. I bear their darkness. Each of them would be crushed by it, were it not for me. You’ve seen Taln? He is insensate, so in the thrall of the darkness?”
“Yes,” Syl said.
“That is because I do not bear his darkness as I carry the others […]”
Hmm. Interesting parallels here with Odium and Dalinar and the “you cannot have my pain” scene. By removing their pain and darkness, did Odium remove an essential part of their humanity, and hence drive them to madness? Did he actually achieve the opposite of his stated goal? Food for thought.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
And so we come to the end of Day Two.
The stage is set. Armies are in motion. Ishar is watching Kaladin and Szeth. Eight days remain… and the Spiritual Realm awaits.
There isn’t a whole lot of new information in this one chapter, as far as the Invested Arts go, but there is still plenty to speculate about. The first place to start, I think, is with Lift.
“Lift, you’re so highly Invested I’m surprised normal people can’t feel it. You glow so brightly to my life sense that you outshine anyone nearby.”
This is pretty telling here. Hoid himself is blown away by how Invested Lift is—this isn’t like even advanced Knights Radiant like Shallan or Kaladin or Jasnah. Hoid doesn’t go around remarking about how Invested they are, or how he thinks any Joe Schmoshar should be able to sense them.
Lift has been directly touched by Cultivation, and she’s almost certainly unique in her ability to metabolize food into Lifelight. Cultivation doesn’t do things by accident—Lift is being set up for something big. She’s only of the Third Ideal, and doesn’t seem to be particularly close to the Fourth, but she had no problem overcoming the anti-Radiant measures when Raboniel took over Urithiru. Honestly, the sense I get from Hoid is that she might be on the level of Elantrians when it comes to how Invested she is. That’s Big News.
Of course, Lift’s flashbacks will have to wait until Book Six, so it stands to reason that she’s a Chekhov’s Radiant who will mostly remain on the mantel until the second half of the series. I fully expect her unique Lifelight abilities to become a huge deal (perhaps in another instance where regular Radiants are crippled or can’t access Stormlight).
Lift frowned at that until she saw the cremling from earlier fluttering away on wings that could barely hold it in the air.
As usual, there was a Sleepless keeping tabs on interesting things in high places. The way Hoid talks to the hordeling makes me wonder if this isn’t the same Ghostblood Sleepless that was keeping tabs on him in Rhythm of War (though it’s certainly not out of the realm of possibility that Hoid is familiar with several of the Sleepless, and talks to all of them with such snark).
Lift sat bolt upright. “Gav!”
But of course there was a third person spying on Hoid, Dalinar, and Navani, and he didn’t get as lucky as Lift and our friendly neighborhood Sleepless. Gavinor is off to have his own Spiritual Realm adventure, and… well, he’s no Bondsmith. There’s probably a heap of trouble ahead of him, especially since Navani and Dalinar have no clue he was even there. We’ll have to see what lies in store for that poor kid; he’s already been through the wringer once, with Aesudan and all the Voidspren and Unmade in Kholinar.
Let’s take a quick jaunt over to Shinovar before we wrap things up.
Odium changes. His goals change. I… can speak now… when it was so hardfor years…
This, from the Wind, is curious. It seems Rayse was deliberately suppressing the old gods of Roshar, the old spren of Wind, Stone, and Night. But Taravangian either doesn’t have enough knowledge of what they are, exactly, or simply doesn’t have the time to spare for them. Now, on the metaphorical eve of the contest of champions, the Wind has snuck out the back window and gets to have a fun road trip with its best buddy, Kaladin.
Together we must preserve a remnant of Honor.
This line had a neon, blinking arrow pointing at it when I first read through. There are a lot of moving pieces here, with Dalinar trying to discover the truth of Honor’s death and maybe see if he can Ascend, but the Wind doesn’t sound too certain of that being a possibility. In fact, this feels like even more of a doomsday scenario than the contest would at first imply—it’s like the Wind expects Odium to somehow do more damage to Honor than has already been done. I don’t know if a Shard can actually be destroyed, but the Wind isn’t ready to risk it.
Maybe Ishar is going to have something to do with that?
Fan Theories
Karter705 on Reddit has a compelling and believable theory:
A few weeks ago, I jokingly commented that Dalinar would lose the duel by being late and I almost did a whole crempost theory citing all the times that he’s late to appointments (even when Navani started making fabrial watches with freaking alarm bells) as obvious foreshadowing. It was going to conclude with something like “and now Wit is giving him a magic watch and telling him please don’t lose track of time”
After tonight, seriously y’all Dalinar is going to lose the battle of champions because he doesn’t show up on time.
I am convinced we’re going to see Shallan do some amazing things as she powers up in this book. Her breakdown at the start as she talks about the “height to which creations could rise” coupled with how she creates Radiant in the Cognitive Realm is surely teasing something pretty immense.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who choose to wait for the full release. See you next Monday with our last preview discussion article before Wind and Truth arrives, as we dig into Interludes 3 and 4![end-mark]
Brandon Sanderson’s epic Stormlight Archive fantasy series will continue with Wind and Truth, the concluding volume of the first major arc of this ten-book series. A defining pillar of Sanderson’s “Cosmere” fantasy book universe, this newest installment of The Stormlight Archive promises huge developments for the world of Roshar, the struggles of the Knights Radiant (and friends!), and for the Cosmere at large.
Reactor serialized the new book until its release date on December 6, 2024. A new installment went live every Monday at 11 AM ET, along with read-along commentary from Stormlight beta readers and Cosmere experts Lyndsey Luther, Drew McCaffrey, and Paige Vest. You can find every chapter and commentary post in the Wind and Truth index.
Note: Title art is not final and will be updated as soon as the final cover is revealed.
Interlude 3: El
El, who had no title, stepped up to the Kholinar palace vault. Four Regal singers had been placed there as guards—a position of honor. Hopefully they would not fall too far after this.
“You will open the vault for me,” El said to no rhythm.
They didn’t question. That pleased him, as he never liked to kill mortals who served well. Their emotions did them credit. Still, he’d assumed they would know not to obey orders from him. He’d thought the Nine would have made that clear the moment he was reborn, but they were distracted with their war.
So, unwitting, the four Regals hummed to Subservience, unlocked the doors, and opened them for him, bowing. When he entered, their leader—an envoyform—hurried in after.
“I am to accompany all who enter, great one,” the Regal said, bowing again. “Pardon my intrusion.”
“What is your name?” El asked.
“Heshual,” the Regal said.
“One of our names,” El said, strolling through the small chamber—which someone had begun to line with aluminum sheets. “What was your name before?”
“It was… Govi, great one.”
“Do you miss your old name?”
“No?” the Regal said.
“So timid,” El said to no rhythm. “You were passionate enough to become a Regal in this Return?”
“I…” Heshual hummed to Tribute, which was a ridiculous rhythm to use for this exchange.
El picked through the room, ignoring stores of gemstones, seeking a specific item. He stoked his annoyance, cherished it as all emotions should be. He did not channel it at this Regal, however, for El understood the reason for the timidity.
“It is all right,” El said. “I assume one Fused noticed your passion and put you up for elevation—but since then, others have reprimanded you for standing up for yourself. Now you don’t know the proper way, because society is in shambles and my kind refuse to be proper role models.”
The Regal hummed to Craving. A sign of agreement, and wanting more treatment like this. He got that rhythm right.
“My kind wear thin, like shoes walked upon for too many miles,” El said softly. “My honor was stripped in part because I warned of the signs. We cannot rule much longer.”
He found what he was seeking at last, on a shelf near the back of the vault: a specific gemstone, still attached to its dagger. Jezrien’s prison. El took it off the shelf, reverent.
“Be careful, great one,” the Regal said. “That is a dangerous weapon.”
“Oh, I know,” El said, taking one of the new anti-Stormlight gemstones from his pocket. He lifted it up, appreciating Raboniel’s handiwork. Then he touched it to the tip of the dagger, which pulled the anti-Light out and sent it into the gemstone prison.
“Great one!” the Regal said. “That will… That…”
El held up the gemstone, where a Herald’s soul had been trapped. It flashed as anti-Light met Light, and Jezrien was at long last destroyed. Not much of an explosion; barely enough to crack the gemstone. There hadn’t been much of Jezrien left.
Now even that was gone. Forever. “Goodbye, old friend,” El whispered to no rhythm.
Then he looked at the Regal, who gaped at him, horrified, fearspren appearing at his feet.
“That imprisonment,” El said, tossing the dagger away, “is a punishment none deserve. We shame ourselves by trapping, instead of destroying, a Herald.” He held up his anti-Light gemstone, still almost full. “Yes, you were already nearly gone, weren’t you, old friend? The prisons don’t work on humans as well as was thought…”
The poor Regal was cycling through rhythms like a person beset with madness. The soul of a trapped Herald had been by far the most valuable thing in the vault.
“You should run to the Nine right now,” El suggested. “If you are quick, they might not punish you. The fault is theirs for not warning you about me. And perhaps I bear some fault. For being me. Naturally.”
The Regal scrambled away, calling for the other three to watch El and not let him leave. Fortunately for them, he had no wish to depart. He settled down on a bench at the side of the chamber, wondering at the way many had changed names. Was that a glorious recovery of their ancient roots? Or a betrayal of the culture they’d possessed in the absence of the ancients?
Before more guards arrived, he felt a presence overshadow him. Odium.
What have you done, servant? the familiar voice said, vibrating El through his gemheart. An act of treason by one of the Fused?
El did not reply. He considered that voice.
It was almost right.
Well? Odium said.
“I see you,” El replied softly with no rhythm. “I know you for what you are. And what you are not.”
The old Odium had come to hate being challenged. Perhaps that was why the Fused were so erratic—after thousands of years trapped on Braize, unable to fulfill his plans, their god had become erratic first.
The new Odium pondered. Who are you? Ah… I see. Yes, curious. I had not paid enough attention to you, El.
“Do you have his memories, then?” El asked.
I can view them if I desire, though I do not see why you would name Jezrien a friend, yet destroy his spirit.
“In all your divine wisdom,” El said, “you cannot imagine a situation where a friend deserves to die?”
The new Odium laughed. A legitimately joyful-sounding chuckle. Curious. In a blink, he appeared beside El and waved a hand, slamming the vault door to lock out approaching guards. This Odium was human, elderly, and did not care to make himself larger than El to intimidate him.
That was more than curious. That was impressive.
“I have a problem,” Odium said. “Would you help me solve it?”
“As a test?” El asked. “Or a legitimate need?”
“Let it be both,” Odium said, strolling through the vault, studying objects one at a time. He wore the enveloping clothing many humans preferred—covering most of the body, never letting skin or carapace through. A way to display the ornamentation of skilled labor.
“I would hum to Subservience,” El said, “if I had rhythms still.”
“I will accept that,” Odium said. “I have a plan to capture the entire world, and am confident in my ability to secure Thaylenah and Shinovar. As for Azir, my predecessor left an army that had been heading toward Lasting Integrity, which I was able to turn. It lacks Fused, and now lacks surprise, but I think it should be sufficient to claim Azimir. But the Shattered Plains trouble me.”
“I believe,” El said, “you have sent great numbers of Fused to the location.”
“Is that odd of me?” Odium asked, pausing beside a stack of gemstones, each large as a fist, on a shelf.
“I have been told,” El said, “that the term to use with a divinity is not ‘odd,’ but ‘inscrutable.’ ”
Odium smiled again. He tapped each gemstone in turn, and they glowed with Voidlight—soft purple-on-black.
“If you have sent so many Fused,” El continued, “and continue to worry—then I’d ask what is so important about a wasteland. Thaylenah is a trading hub, important for controlling the seas. Azir is the seat of an empire, and of great cultural and scientific development in this era. Both greater prizes. Both facing lesser armies.
“One might guess this is about proximity. For example, getting those Fused to Azimir in time might be impossible. And you are confident in your plan for Thaylenah. So a reasonable person might assume that you sent the Fused to the only remaining location of note.”
“Are you reasonable, El?”
“Rarely.”
Once again Odium smiled. “I would like to bring further forces to support the Shattered Plains. How would you do this?”
“How much of a cost am I to assume I’d be willing to pay?”
“A steep one.”
“Then you already know the answer,” El said. “As the solution is a part of you.”
“Dai-Gonarthis is dangerous to unleash,” Odium said.
“Despite that,” El said, “if you require an Elsegate, she is the sole option—unless you have access to corrupted Elsecallers or a proper Honorblade.”
“I have neither yet,” Odium said as he walked back to El. “You have traveled with the Black Fisher before.”
“Yes,” he said. “Most of the lands you’d want are still protected from her touch, but Natanatan… Perhaps. You would need a strong source of Investiture on either side. And someone to lead your armies.”
Odium studied him. “I see you, El, for what you are not. And for what you are.”
El bowed his head.
“If you serve me,” Odium said, “you may need to kill more of your… former friends.”
“My friends had their chance. When left on this world, they enslaved my people. The Heralds deserve annihilation. It is… a mercy.”
Odium nodded. “I dub you—”
“No titles. Please.”
Odium hesitated, and El saw danger in his expression. So, he was not immune to the rage, and being cut off by someone much lesser crossed a line. A worthy experiment.
“Very well,” Odium said. “I name you ruler, with no title. You will take leadership of my armies to assault the Shattered Plains. Travel to the Peaks via shanay-im, and I shall send Dai-Gonarthis to you. Use her… particular talents to take the garrison at the Peaks, and claim the Shattered Plains in my name. I will pay her price another time.”
This left many things unsaid. Why Odium was so interested in the Shattered Plains. How he knew that there would be enough power to Connect them to the well at the Horneater Peaks.
The solution to both unsaid questions was likely the same. El again bowed his head. “The Nine will not care for my elevation.”
“And what are your thoughts on the Nine?”
“I think of them little, and when I do, I think little of them. Master.”
“Then they report to you, El. Help me claim this world.”
“If I do, can I rule human lands for you?”
“If that is your wish, I will grant it.”
Excellent. El bowed. “I will not fail, lest I be destroyed.”
“El, I do not throw people away for failure, unless it came about by their negligence. Adopt this policy. Even in failure, it is often not the tool, but the wielder, who is at fault.” The god began to fade, evaporating to dark mist. His voice lingered. “We have much work to do. Not just on one world, but many.”
Fascinating. El had walked in here expecting imprisonment, probably execution and forced rebirth. Instead it seemed he was leaving with an army, a promise, and a new god who might at last be able to conquer the entire cosmere.
What an enchanting day. In his head, he began to compose a poem to celebrate this new god he was delighted to worship. Someone who, he suspected, would know the value of what he had—and would let El help humankind finally realize their true passions.
He put Jezrien’s former prison back on the shelf, then tossed his anti-Stormlight gemstone into the air and caught it again while walking to the doorway, enraptured at the thought of how the Nine would react.
Interlude 4: The Wrong Lesson
Taravangian could save them. All of them.
He strode, unseen, through Kholinar, now capital of a growing singer civilization. He could see this whole land, and knew its new leaders were not perfect. In that, they were no worse or better than the humans; while many of their policies were more egalitarian, this was also a people who had been enslaved. He felt their complicated emotions, both wanting to be better than their slavers and being enraged at what had been done to them, sometimes lashing out.
That rage was his greatest resource. With it, he would bring order to the entire cosmere. He held his hands to the sides, feeling the rhythms of the crowds who passed him, unable to see their god. He was still the one divided: a mind that wanted to plan, a heart that fought against that calculating coldness. Right now, the heart wanted to simply accept peace. But it could not abandon Alethkar, not after all the work these singers had done to claim it and build a home.
It was theirs. They deserved it.
That was the logic speaking. People were in pain. He could retreat his singers to Jah Keved, and there be content.
Jah Keved had basically no armies. How would he bring order to the cosmere without armies?
Did he have to?
Yes. He did.
Back and forth, back and forth. He partially wondered if this was the reason Cultivation had positioned him to be elevated—in giving him his curse and boon for so long. To create a person who could legitimately Connect to the power of Odium and take it, but one who would then be made impotent by the two warring sides within.
He thought of her, and she appeared. Cultivation had not given up on him, and would not do so easily. Together they stood in the center of a major thoroughfare—palanquins lumbering past, laborers hurrying by in clumps, tradesmen shouting out wares. Human and singer living together in a delicate balance. Uncertain, like the one inside him.
“Would you like to see?” she said. “What I can show you?”
He calmed his rage at her. Wisdom dictated that if she wished to give him something, he should at least witness it. He nodded.
She led him to gaze upward, toward stars only they could number. He stood rooted on Roshar—he could not visit these places, but he could see them. With her help, he was given a new perspective on how she thought it should be, each Shard in their realm of influence, governing their own lands.
“It does not have to be one god,” she said. “One solution will never work for all. That was part of why we had to do what we did, ten thousand years ago. Let them be, Odium.”
He saw something different from what she wanted him to see. He saw that gods could indeed be afraid. Of him. The power of Odium, with his predecessor, had killed several of them. That version of him had been too brazen, and had left itself wounded in a clash. Taravangian could certainly do better.
“Taravangian,” she said, “do not learn the wrong lesson. See.”
He saw. Gods who turned away from him, content to let the danger stay trapped. Interestingly, they considered all three of the gods of Roshar to be a problem, and were happy to leave them to their conflict.
This was perfect.
Isolated as the others were, he could watch and prepare exactingly how to defeat each one. Only one of them held two Shards of power, but that one was unable to function properly. Odium’s predecessor had never taken a second Shard of power for that reason.
These can be defeated, he thought, seeing the permutations of possibility. They will regret ignoring me.
He kept his thoughts from Cultivation as she tried showing him peaceful nations on many planets. He instead was most curious about the fact that two of the Shards appeared to be missing, completely vanished from interacting with the others. Hidden. One he understood with some effort. But Valor—where had Valor gone, and how did she hide from even his eyes?
The tour over, he and Cultivation pulled their focuses back down to Roshar. The greater cosmere was a part of Taravangian’s ultimate plans, and had to be. But for now, this people here—this world—had to be his everything.
“You worry me, Taravangian,” Cultivation said as they stood unseen among the people of Kholinar. “If I can admit it, you always worried me. I knew what I had to do, but I wish it could have been any other.”
“If there were not something to fear about the person you chose,” he said, “then they could not have taken up Odium.”
“There is a chance, a solid one,” she said, “that you will do what is right. I would not have taken this step otherwise.”
“You are correct,” he agreed. “I will do what is right.”
“Do not be so smug,” she replied. “A part of you knows this path you’ve started on is a terrible one. Listen to that part of you. Give it a chance.”
And…
Despite himself, he did feel it. It was the part of Taravangian that loved his daughter and grandchildren. The part of him that had grieved when forced to manipulate Dalinar while trying to break up the coalition. It was the part of Taravangian that remembered being young, uncertain, dull—yearning to do more to help his people.
That was the Taravangian who had been given the chance to have anything he wanted, and had wished for the capacity to stop the coming calamity. In a moment, Taravangian felt as if… as if he were that same man he’d been long ago.
“Very well,” he said, turning from her. Not in shame—he would not accept that emotion now—but in… compromise. “I will try.”
He was a god divided. What if he let each side rule in turn?
Sanderfans! Guess what? Guess what?!!! Wind and Truth releases in FOUR DAYS! No more waiting a whole week for another morsel, another tantalizing cliffhanger, another revelation-packed POV that you absolutely MUST READ! Now’s the time to finally RAFO, baby! But before you get there… Last week we discussed the events of chapter 33 and the end of Day 2. Frustratingly, we didn’t get to see what happened to Navani, Dalinar, Gavinor, Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain, who are all currently missing. Perhaps we’ll find out in Day 3? This week, in our final discussion before our upcoming full-spoiler review of the full novel, we’re diving into a couple of Interludes, featuring El and Odium. I know a lot of people have been waiting for El to show up and he does not disappoint.
Oh, and be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Note that this post will possibly (likely) contain full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content. And please remember, when posting or commenting about these preview chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Paige’s Summary and Commentary
Interlude 3 is El’s interlude. El… We’ve seen a lot of people jonesing for an El POV and, well, here it is! We see El—“who had no title”—approaching the vault at the Kholinar palace. He has no rhythm as he orders the guards to open the vault and they obey. He enters, accompanied by a Regal. El talks with the Regal as he searches the vault and notices how timid the Regal is. Pardon me for posting a snippet from the interlude you just read, but I feel like revisiting the direct quote is warranted here:
“It is all right,” El said. “I assume one Fused noticed your passion and put you up for elevation—but since then, others have reprimanded you for standing up for yourself. Now you don’t know the proper way, because society is in shambles and my kind refuse to be proper role models.”
The Regal hummed to Craving. A sign of agreement, and wanting more treatment like this. He got that rhythm right.
“My kind wear thin, like shoes walked upon for too many miles,” El said softly. “My honor was stripped in part because I warned of the signs. We cannot rule much longer.”
“Like shoes walked upon for too many miles,” is how he describes the Fused, and not only is that poetic—in my opinion, it’s very accurate. The Fused are wearing out, they’re either giving into madness or already there. And El knows it. It’s funny that he would admit it to a Regal, and a timid one, at that.
Finally El finds what he’s looking for: Jezrien’s prison, the gemstone still attached to the dagger that “killed” Jezrien. The Regal warns him that it’s dangerous but, of course, El knows this. And with no further ado, no grand proclamation, no fanfare, he simply touches an anti-Stormlight gemstone to the tip of the dagger. The anti-Light is pulled out of the gemstone and flows into Jezrien’s prison. There is a tiny explosion, much smaller than the one which killed Navani’s ardents; it’s hardly big enough to crack the gemstone.
And just like that, what’s left of Jezrien is gone and he is truly destroyed. Seems so anticlimatic for the leader of the Heralds to just… poof… crack a gemstone and cease to exist. ::sad face::
The Regal is horrified and draws fearspren. Apparently, Jezrien’s soul, or whatever was left of it, was quite a valuable treasure. El tells the Regal that none deserve the punishment of that imprisonment. He mentions how it was thought that the prisons would hold humans but that they don’t work well. So presumably, they’d hold a Fused, yes?
El tells the Regal to run to the Nine to tell them what happened. He says it’s their fault for not warning the guards about him.
“And perhaps I bear some fault. For being me. Naturally.”
El is so… unusual. He has no rhythms, he’s very critical of the other Fused, and he seems to have nothing but disdain for the Nine.
As El sits to wait for capture, I’m assuming, he’s visited by none other than the voice of Odium, who asks him what he’s done, questioning this apparent “act of treason by one of the Fused”… It’s an interesting moment as El, ignoring Odium, considers the sound of the voice and realizes that it’s not quite right.
He calls Odium out, saying he sees him for what he is, and what he is not. Bold of him to challenge Odium this way, but he knows that the old Odium had hated being challenged. The new Odium, however… He realizes who El is and laments that he hasn’t paid more attention to him.
Odium then appears to El and asks for his help in solving a problem as both a test and a necessity. He talks of capturing the world as he peruses the items in the vault, stating that he is confident that he can secure Thaylenah and Shinovar—wait… Shinovar? How is he going to secure Shinovar? There’s no army of singers heading there, is there? This kind of took me off guard as I don’t recall a great deal of the beta read (it was some time ago, you see). So I’m here wondering how and why Odium is to “capture” Shinovar. What do you think of this proclamation, Sanderfans?
Odium goes on to say that he thinks his army in Shadesmar is sufficient to take Azimir but that he’s troubled by the Shattered Plains. El notes that he’s sent “great numbers of Fused” to the Shattered Plains and Odium wonders if that’s odd. El does wonder what the value in this relative wasteland, compared to Thaylen City and Azimir. Odium hedges and says that he wants to send even greater numbers to the Shattered Plains, asking El how he would handle that. El says Odium already knows the answer and Odium reflects that “Dai-Gonarthis is dangerous to unleash.”
Whosie-whatie?
Let’s visit the Coppermind for a moment. And we are greeted with the one death rattle we’ve seen that mentions the Unmade. Maybe Unmade? There’s apparently some doubt but I’m going to go with, yeah, it’s an Unmade.
“Let me no longer hurt! Let me no longer weep! Dai-Gonarthis! The Black Fisher holds my sorrow and consumes it!”
—Tanatesach 1173, 28 seconds pre-death. A darkeyed female street juggler. Note similarity to sample 1172-89.
In Hessi’s Mythica, she mentions that Dai-Gonarthis may have been involved in the scouring of Aimia. Its name is also mentioned along with other Unmade, so my conclusion is that this is, indeed, an Unmade.
Odium seems hesitant.
“Dai-Gonarthis is dangerous to unleash,” Odium said.
“Despite that,” El said, “if you require an Elsegate, she is the sole option—unless you have access to corrupted Elsecallers or a proper Honorblade.”
“I have neither yet,” Odium said as he walked back to El. “You have traveled with the Black Fisher before.”
“Yes,” he said. “Most of the lands you’d want are still protected from her touch, but Natanatan… Perhaps. You would need a strong source of Investitureon either side. And someone to lead your armies.”
So Odium wants El to lead his army headed to the Shattered Plains. And he’s going to unleash a terrible Unmade, one that El has traveled with before. He warns that if El serves him, he may have to kill more of his former friends and El states that annihilation is a mercy, and what they deserve for enslaving his people.
Odium instructs El to travel to the Horneater Peaks; he will send Dai-Gonarthis to him there.
“Use her… particular talents to take the garrison at the Peaks, and claim the Shattered Plains in my name. I will pay her price another time.”
So El needs to go to the well, but he thinks of what Odium has left unsaid, such as why he is interested in the Shattered Plains and how he knows that there will be enough power to Connect them at the well. “Connect…” with a capital C. So does he need to be Connected to Dai-Gonarthis to control her? Just how scary is this Unmade? And Odium will have to pay her a price for her assistance? I don’t know if I’m more frightened of her or Ba-ado-Mishram at this point.
Before Odium departs, El mentions that the Nine won’t be happy with this situation, with El working for Odium. Odium then states that the Nine will report to El. El has a request: If he helps Odium claim the world, can he can rule the human lands? Odium replies that he will grant that wish.
El is fascinated at the turn the day has taken and feels enraptured at how he thinks the Nine will react.
I don’t know about you, Sanderfans, but an enraptured El is mighty scary. Whew… what an interlude! I absolutely want to hear your all thoughts on this scene… but not yet. First, we have to see what Odium gets up to after this scene…
Interlude 4 is, of course, focused on Odium; it’s titled “The Wrong Lesson” and is rather brief. We see Taravangian strolling through Kholinar, unseen, and he is torn… teetering back and forth between options, trying to decide what to do. He could take his singers to Jah Kaved and just let them exist there. He reasons that he doesn’t have to bring order to the whole cosmere, does he? Then he decides that yes, he does.
He wonders if his dual nature is why Cultivation had chosen him to take up the shard of Odium, if the divide within him is why she gave him this curse and boon.
To create a person who could legitimately Connect to the power of Odium and take it, but one who would then be made impotent by the two warring sides within.
I don’t think he’ll be impotent and unable to act, in the end. I think the rage he speaks of, the sheer emotion that is Odium will win out over whatever humanity Taravangian has left. Which isn’t much, in my opinion. No matter how much he cared about people on his “stupid” days before ascending, that capacity for caring isn’t enough to overcome the emotions of the Shard.
Then Cultivation appears, standing beside him. She asks if he would like to see what she can show him and he has to calm his rage before he nods. They gaze upward and she shows him each Shard and how she thought it should be, each Shard “governing their own lands.” And ideally, that’s how it should be, right? I mean, it makes sense.
She tells Taravangian that there doesn’t have to be one god and implores him to let them be. But Taravangian sees something different; he sees that gods can be afraid… of him. He realizes that the power of Odium as wielded by his predecessor had killed several of them, and believes that he himself can do better.
Cultivation tells him not to learn the wrong lesson and she shows him gods who have turned away from him, content to let his danger stay trapped, happy to leave all three gods of Roshar to themselves and their own conflict. And really, Sanderfans, why should it be any different? The other Shards have their own concerns to tend to, their own worlds and their own peoples. Why should they care for what’s happening on Roshar, since Odium is trapped.
But will he remain trapped? That’s the whole purpose of this book, yes? To find that out?
But Tarvangian—Odium—doesn’t see things that way. He sees these other gods as being isolated and thus easily defeated. He thinks that they will regret ignoring him. He hides those thoughts from Cultivation, though, and takes a moment to wonder why two Shards are missing, hidden. One, he understands why, but he wonders where Valor had gone and how she could hide from him.
I know the very cosmere-aware theorists will have fun with that detail! Be sure to check out Drew’s commentary below!
Back on the ground in Kholinar, Cultivation tells Taravangian that he worries her. You think?
“If I can admit it, you always worried me. I knew what I had to do, but I wish it could have been any other.”
Then why didn’t you choose another? ::crying::
She adds that there is a solid chance that he will do what is right. And he agrees, telling her he will do what is right. She admonishes him not to be smug, and that a part of him knows his path is a terrible one. He feels that, the part of him that loves his family and grieved when he had to manipulate Dalinar, that part of him feels that…
He tells her that he will try. But he is still a god divided and wonders what would happen if he let each side rule in turn.
Yikes, I don’t know about that. Just feels chaotic to me, though Taravangian and Odium are nothing if not chaotic.
So what did you think about our interludes, Sanderfans? Will Sigzil have any hope of facing down armies led by El with a terrifying Unmade on a leash? How? He’s already outnumbered and outclassed, with hordes of Fused and a freaking Thunderclast on their way to the Shattered Plains. Further, why does Odium want the Shattered Plains so badly? What’s there, in Narak, that he wants, and doesn’t know why he wants it?
Lyndsey’s Commentary
Interlude 3: El’s chapter arch icons are Jezrien (Jezerezeh) and Nalan (Nale), Herald of Kings and Herald of Justice, respectively. Jezrien’s presence is pretty obvious; he’s permanently destroyed in this interlude. As for Nale…? Well, I suspect that Nale is here due to his attribute as “Judge.” El is acting as judge, jury, and executioner in this interlude, much as Nale often does.
All four of Interlude 4’s arch icons are taken up by Vedeledev (Vedel), the patron of the Edgedancers. Her attributes are Loving/ Healing and her role is Healer. This is a very interesting choice. My theory is that she’s here because Cultivation is prominent in this chapter, attempting to influence Odium towards a more compassionate and loving stance.
El
Let’s begin with a reminder as to who, exactly, El is: he is a Fused who cannot use rhythms. They were stripped from him as punishment for the crime of admiring humans and wanting to unite humans and Singers. He’s also the one who permanently killed Lezian (the Pursuer), and held the name Vyre before the traitor Moash claimed it. In this interlude, we’re treated to an utterly fascinating glimpse into his mind.
He’s self-confident, perhaps to the point of arrogance. He believes that he knows better than his superiors; however, maybe he does. He notes that the intelligence and sanity of the Fused are wearing thin after so many rebirths, which is a valid observation. And he does seem to possess an acuity and empathy that the others lack. He destroys Jezrien, a former friend, not out of anger or to further some plot, but out of sympathy: A former friend shouldn’t remain trapped within a gemstone, their soul slowly degrading. And he realizes almost immediately that Odium has a new vessel, and plays that knowledge to his advantage. He’s going to be a terrifyingly effective villain, and I’m excited to see what becomes of him.
Odium
Odium’s part in both of these interludes is equally fascinating. He’s got some pretty major plans in motion, clearly, and plays a verbal chess match with El regarding said plans and his motivations. He never really answers the question about why he wants to take the Shattered Plains so badly, but he does slip a bit when El interrupts him. Taravangian’s losing a bit of himself to Odium, but I doubt it will be enough to inhibit his plans for world (and universal) domination. He’s also capable of some real arrogance; but that’s nothing new. Taravangian has always believed himself to be wiser and kinder than everyone else (depending on which side of the empathic coin he’s on), and godhood has only elevated the inclinations that were already there. His desire to dominate in order to bring order is very “Type A” personality; he doesn’t delegate power well or easily. He believes that HE is the only one who can do things right, and finds it hard to trust others to do anything in his stead. But then… at the end of the second interlude, we do get this one moment of true compassion. Is it possible that this new Odium (Toadium is my personal preference for nickname) could not be the villain we’ve assumed him to be? Can he be redeemed? Turned back to the light side of the Force, as it were?
Only time will tell, and time is ticking. Wind and Truth will be released on December 6th, only four days from now. Are you ready to experience the conclusion of the first half of the Stormlight Archive? Questions will be answered, battles fought, lives lost and won, and we’re along for the ride of the century. Hold on tight, my Cosmere Chickens… because you’ve got one storming heck of a ride ahead of you.
A quick note: If you’re attending Dragonsteel Nexus, follow me on social media (Facebook, Bluesky, and Tiktok are the ones I primarily use) to hunt me down for a special Cosmere Chicken badge ribbon! I’ll have a few other fun ones as well, and my own books to sell on Friday in the Exhibitor’s Hall. I love to chat about the Cosmere and am a huge extrovert, so please feel free to visit! I’d love to see you.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
It’s our last set of interludes before the release of Wind and Truth, and Brandon’s given us some intriguing information to chew on over the next couple of days. We kick things off with none other than El!
El has to be one of the most inscrutable characters in all of The Stormlight Archive. Between his ominous “musings” over the Final Ten Days and the one scene at the end of Rhythm of War, he is being set up as a truly intimidating new presence among the Fused. He has no title, no rhythms, but a fearsome reputation even among the named Fused we met in Oathbringer and Rhythm of War.
Not to mention the crazy metal implants he wears instead of carapace.
And now here we see him casually strolling about, ignoring the rules and laws set down by Odium and the Nine, and blithely finishing off what remained of Jezrien like it’s any normal Tuesday afternoon. Oh, and he has a calm chat with Vargodium immediately after, which is what brings us to the really juicy new info:
“Dai-Gonarthis is dangerous to unleash,” Odium said.”
Enter the Black Fisher! One of the most mysterious of the Unmade—so mysterious, in fact, that historians on Roshar weren’t even certain she was among their number. And she can create Elsegates! She apparently comes at a steep price, though it seems El is willing to roll the dice.
You would need a strong source of Investiture on either side.
This is curious as well. Odium’s interest in the Shattered Plains is far more intense than we might expect, as El rightly points out. This isn’t the “reasonable” explanation given of forces being too far away or Odium being confident enough in his other plans. There is a great deal of focus being put on the Shattered Plains, and now we have the implication that Odium has access to a lot of Investiture there—since we know that Dai-Gonarthis is going to be starting this Elsegate at the Horneater Peaks, presumably using Cultivation’s shardpool up there.
(Hmmm, I wonder what Rock is up to these days? Anyway…)
“No titles. Please.”
El doesn’t even want a title. I get the feeling that he enjoys being the odd one out, and likes how it puts the other Fused off-balance. And now he’s been given command of the vast majority of the Fused as they’re sent to do Odium’s bidding on the Shattered Plains. That could make for some internal strife.
Next, we have a doozy of a Vargodium POV, rounding out the preview chapters.
She led him to gaze upward, toward stars only they could number. He stood rooted on Roshar—he could not visit these places, but he could see them. With her help, he was given a new perspective on how she thought it should be, each Shard in their realm of influence, governing their own lands.
And:
He instead was most curious about the fact that two of the Shards appeared to be missing, completely vanished from interacting with the others. One he understood with some effort. But Valor—where had Valor gone, and how did she hide from even his eyes?
Hoo boy. There is a heaping mountain of Cosmere and Shardic geopolitics just dumped on us right here. We’ve known for a while now about the Shardic agreement to leave each other alone (and know that many of them immediately ignored that agreement, heading off to either settle together, as on Sel and Roshar, or even creating new worlds and life, as with Preservation and Ruin on Scadrial).
But the stubborn insistence on leaving Odium stuck on Roshar with Cultivation and Honor, and then ignoring the conflict there, seems to be setting up Vargodium for an extremely dangerous future in the Cosmere. He’s smarter than Rayse, craftier, and less influenced by the Intent of his Shard. I get the impression that most of the original Sixteen are more or less crippled by inertia at this point, simply going along with their individual Intents and happy to leave the problems to others.
Then there are the two mysteries. Valor, totally missing from even Shardic awareness. And this unnamed Shard, which Odium found “with some effort.” Which one of these is the infamous “Survival Shard,” which Brandon has mentioned and been questioned about at length over the years?
Valor is of special note here as well, since she was mentioned in the letters in Rhythm of War. You’d think that their Intent would be more inclined to help deal with the problem of Odium—in fact, hiding like this seems almost diametrically opposed to the Intent. There’s a bigger story here, and I wonder if this isn’t going to be something Brandon ends up writing a Secret Projectabout.
What are your thoughts on Valor? Is she the Survival Shard, or is it this other, unnamed Shard?
That’s a wrap for our preview chapters. It’s going to be a blast seeing all the crazy theories that come out of the rest of this book, some of which we’ll discussing in our upcoming review and digging into as the Wind and Truth reread continues in January.
Also, like Lyn, I’ll be at Dragonsteel Nexus later this week! Swing by booth 221 to say hi, and chat theories!
Fan Theories
Over on Reactor, John says:
Bondsmiths? Trapped in the Spiritual Realm. Kaladin? In Shinovar. Adolin? Extra angsty. Shallan? Fighting her inner and outer conflicts. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together (for an Odium Victory).
Is that where you all fall, Sanderfans? Are you expecting an Odium victory?
Also on Reactor, Fabius Varro says:
Dalinar and Navani can afford to be lost for a few days and Dalinar can prepare himself inside the Spiritual Realm. But only Lord knows how Wit will intervene into this fight. I’m kinda disappointed he didn’t take the Ghostbloods threat seriously.
Isilel has this to say:
So much to unpack. So, the long-standing theories about the roots of stone veneration by the Shin are wrong. It has nothing to do with the humans promising to stay in Shinovar. Too bad that we likely won’t see the scene of their arrival on Roshar now.
Speaking of which—what in cosmere are Mraize and Iyatil thinking?! Will this explosion somehow transfer all those present on both sides into Spiritual Realm? Because otherwise they have just closed their only path in there, as well as doomed the Coalition.
Lift’s presence must be important somehow—either she’ll be swept into Spiritual Realm too and do something there, or she will be instrumental in dragging the others out of it.
Over on Reddit, adjason ponders Odium’s champion…
Jasnah Kal and szeth paper scissors rock as Honors champion
…and Loud_Cheesecake5145 also ponders Lift’s and Gav’s situation:
Hear me out, just a quick theory. Since Gav and Lift are in the room the same time the perpendicularity explodes and probably gets pulled into the Spiritual Realm, likely that Lift might actually age and her purpose will become to take care of Gav, right? Anyhow what if Ba-Ado-Mishram bonds with Gav?!
And thus we have another question: can an Unmade bond with a host? They are spren. But we’ve seen nothing so far that suggests this might be a thing. Does anyone have any insight?
Loud_Cheesecake5145 goes on to provide another Gav theory:
There’s another theory down here that Gav ages in the spiritual realm, becomes angry at Dalinar and becomes Odium’s champion. Which I think is a good one because my issue with the Gav Odium champion theory was the age (would be weird to make an 8 year old a champion).
BornUnderaBlackSun has this thought…
I feel like I’m taking crazy pills. Dalinar is the worst possible choice to become Honor. If he gets the shard and still loses then Todium gets a shard who can leave the system and has to do his bidding
…and boleslaws answers with:
Maybe in the end, Dalinar will manage to combine the shards of Honour and Odium, becoming War, just like Harmony in the Mistborn
Very interesting thoughts to close out our last discussion article before Friday, Sanderfans. We’ll try to visit the comments here and the socials to see what you think about these interludes!
Thus ends our preview chapter discussion articles! We’ll be back with a full-spoiler review/discussion of the book very soon, then we’ll be taking the rest of December off to enjoy the holidays (and let you fine people catch up on the rest of this very, very long book)! Then we’ll be back in January to pick up right where we left of and begin the reread with Day 3. We hope you enjoy the book, and we’ll see you soon for more discussion and theory-swapping![end-mark]
Welcome to the full-on, top-down spoiler review for Wind and Truth, in which beta readers Paige Vest and Drew McCaffrey are here to discuss every single spoilery thing about this book. Or at least most things. If you haven’t finished the book yet, do not continue because, seriously… SPOILERS ABOUND!
The first thing we have to talk about, even before we get into the story itself (and there’s A LOT of story to cover!) is that Wind and Truth follows a completely different structure from the other four installments of The Stormlight Archive! Instead of being divided into five parts, we have a countdown: the Ten Days until Dalinar’s contest of champions against Odium.
It works, you know? The number ten is all over this series: ten Heralds, ten-day weeks, ten Oathgates, ten Radiant orders, ten surges… You get the idea. Buckle up, because there’s almost five hundred thousand words packed into these ten days. Below, we cover the Prologue and Szeth’s flashbacks, then summarize the first two Days (covered in depth in our discussions of the preview chapters). After that, we’ve broken up the discussion to focus on each of the five major plot lines in turn, with our final thoughts at the end.
There’s so much to talk about, so let’s get to it!
The Wind and Truth Prologue is told from Gavilar’s point of view. We’ve seen different versions of the night of his death from four other perspectives, so it’s super interesting to see Gavilar’s thoughts on this night. And for many readers, it cements the fact that the Alethi King is one big piece of storming crem.
We see numerous interactions that Gavilar has with various other characters throughout the night, including Navani, Dalinar, several potential Sons of Honor, Taravangian(!), a couple of Heralds that he doesn’t believe are Heralds at first, and finally, Thaidakar (Kelsier), who appears through a seon.
Kelsier is frustrated that Gavilar hasn’t turned over Restares—whom we now know to be the Herald Kalak, one of Gavilar’s many visitors that night.
And throughout all of these conversations, the Stormfather is hanging around! Gavilar is hard at work, trying to become a Herald himself—to become immortal, mostly, with the Herald stuff as an incidental side effect. He struggles to find the right words (or rather, Words) and the Stormfather is getting increasingly frustrated with him.
Oh, yeah, and a little something happens over on Braize: A Herald is killed on this night of all nights, and travels back to be tortured under the Oathpact.
Of course that’s not all that happens during the feast, though. Word arrives of the Assassin in White, using strange powers and tearing through guards with an Honorblade. Gavilar and Sadeas hatch their decoy plan, Szeth fails to fall for it, and the rest is history.
…Well, maybe not all history. We’re left with one final tidbit, as we learn that Gavilar is speaking to the Stormfather, not Szeth, in his final moments. And oh so curiously, the Stormfather swears he’s finished with the Kholin family.
So that was a lie.
Flashbacks: Szeth
Szeth’s flashbacks begin as a story he’s relating to Kaladin about his childhood. It’s a really cool way of relaying the information, as Kaladin learns along with us. He talks of dancing around a sacred rock on his family’s homestead while his older sister Elid played the flute. It’s a nice, yet melancholy glimpse of a young, innocent Szeth who hasn’t had terrible things happen to him. Though it won’t be long, unfortunately, before things take a turn.
After he dances, Szeth’s loveable old sheep, Molli, licks the ground until a new rock is revealed. It’s a small rock compared to the larger one that Szeth had been dancing around, but it’s a rock, and the Shin revere rocks. The kids fetch their father, who sends for their mother. When she arrives, she has a shovel and plans to dig up the rock and move it; otherwise, the Farmer would likely make the family leave their homestead and move to the town. Szeth objects to this plan, thinking they should do the right thing and inform the Farmer. So his father gives him the option to either tell the Farmer or relocate the rock. Szeth is only 11 years old in this flashback and, frankly, it’s a crem thing to do to make him decide on a course of action that would affect the fate of his entire family.
He chooses to let them move the rock, not because he felt it was the right thing to do, but because he felt that was the choice they all wanted him to make. So his mother digs up the rock, which isn’t very large. Then a horn sounds and they realize that they’re under attack by the stonewalkers. Szeth’s mother picks up the rock, with gloves on, and hides it amongst the roots of a nearby tree. Then they plan to head toward the mountains to avoid the marauders.
As many homesteaders gather with their flocks in the foothills of the mountain, they prepare food to try to calm people. Szeth helps but then takes food for himself and Elid, and she tells him that they’re missing three sheep, Molli among them. Szeth searches the other flocks, looking for her, to no avail. Then, with the light of burning homesteads in the distance, he heads toward his own home to search for Molli.
Szeth finds three men at his homestead, sitting on the sacred rock in front of a fire, where they’d cooked a meal. Szeth realizes that they are Shin and that they were likely a patrol of the Farmer’s soldiers. But something is wrong. They’re drinking his father’s wine and—though he has a hard time facing the truth—he knows that they’ve killed and cooked Molli. He gets angry, tells them they need to go because they subtract.
He’s thrown to the ground by one of the soldiers and he falls beside the stone his mother had dug out of the ground earlier. As the soldier chokes him, he picks the rock up with his bare hand. Filled with rage at what the soldiers had done to Molli, he smashes the rock into the soldier’s head again and again. He’s found by his family the next morning, covered in blood and clutching Molli’s pelt.
The Farmer tells Neturo and Zeenid that Szeth must go train to be a soldier because he subtracted, using a rock. He does defend his actions, because the soldier was choking Szeth at the time, but he said that when one shows talent at subtracting, then that talent needs to be utilized. Neturo announces that he will also go and be taught how to subtract, that he won’t let his son go alone. Zeenid says that they’ll all go. Szeth is much relieved upon hearing this as he lies in bed listening to his parents speak with the Farmer.
Szeth and his family go to the monastery of the Stonewards, where Szeth is to be trained. He hears a voice speaking in his mind helping him decide what to do. And listening to it, he shows restraint and wisdom. The trainer thinks he might do better in officer training.
After three years in training, Szeth is clearly the best; he even beats an instructor. His father is the aide-de-camp to the General and takes him to see a couple of Honorbearers that visit the monastery which, of course, has no Honorbearer. It is Taln’s monastery; he is the lost Herald. One of the Honorbearers bids Szeth spend time in the slaughterhouse learning how to kill, and instructs the General to send Szeth on the next raid so as to teach him his purpose.
Five years later, a 19-year-old Szeth leads a mission to drive raiders away from the shore. He takes it upon himself to burn the three ships that come to raid. Only two of them burn, and when Szeth tries to rescue his men who have been captured on the third ship, he gets stabbed in the gut, a life-ending wound. But the Voice in his head heals him! Back on shore, the General shows up with Neturo, and Szeth is chastised for not simply driving the raiders away.
A tribunal consisting of the General, his father, three Honorbearers, and the Farmer meet to decide on Szeth’s punishment (or so he thinks). The Farmer wants to send him to a solitary watchpost in the mountains, but then the Voice returns and speaks to the Honorbearers about Szeth, though they won’t tell Szeth who or what the Voice was. Then they decide that he must be trained as a shaman acolyte with an Honorbearer, specifically at Pozen’s monastery, where Pozen has the Elsecaller Honorblade. Neturo decides to go with Szeth, though he’s discouraged until it’s pointed out that the city near the monastery where Szeth will be training is in need of an administrator. Szeth’s sister, Elid, isn’t bothered by the move, but Zeenid refuses to go. She abandons them, and Elid decides to proceed with Szeth and their father.
Two years later, 21-year-old Szeth has become good enough at the sword to defeat the sitting swordmaster and take his place. He is now next in line to bear the Honorblade. Pozen mentions his inadequacy at Elsecalling, but sets him to another task, which Szeth gladly accepts. He heads out to find Pozen’s first clue, which leads him to another Honorbearer, Sivi, who holds the Willshaper honorblade. Szeth agrees to go on a pilgrimage during which he’ll visit each monastery to train, eventually challenging the Windrunner Honorbearer for his honorblade. Oh, and Sivi is apparently in a relationship with Neturo. Scandalous! When Szeth leaves for the Willshaper monastery, Neturo goes with him but Elid stays; the last words she speaks to him are that she hates him.
Years later, we’ve frankly lost count, Szeth defeats the Windrunner Honorbearer, killing him in combat. Before he dies, he warns Szeth that they’re just using him. Several of the current Honorbearers were chosen by the Elsecaller Honorbearer, Pozen, but Szeth doesn’t understand what the warning is all about. He now must face each of the other Honorbearers, though defeat doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t gain the Windrunner Blade. Then Pozen tells him that he won’t actually have to fight each Honorbearer, that it’s just a formality. Sivi tells him he can go meet the Voice after his second pilgrimage.
Szeth visits the Bondsmith monastery and thinks of how Talmut—Taln—stayed in damnation alone and is inspired, believing that it had been his choice. Which, of course, it hadn’t been. Very interesting how the teachings had been wrong in Shinovar for Szeth to believe this version of the story. The Voice guides him to a cavern where he finds spren nailed to the walls. He’s horrified and, as the Voice continues to speak to him, he realizes that it’s one of the Unmade. He flees. When he returns to the Windrunner monastery, he tells the acolytes there what’s happening and why his predecessor was going to rebel. He states that he might get one or two other Honorbearers to support them. He declares that the Desolation has begun and that the Voidbringers had returned. The day of Truth is here and it’s time to fight.
Szeth begins recruiting troops and sends word to two other Honorbearers, Sivi among them. Then he goes to kill Pozen and finds Sivi there, willingly serving the Unmade. He tells her the Return has begun and that they must fight. She begins to question herself, wondering if she’s wrong. Then Pozen arrives and rather than fighting him, Szeth retreats.
He leads his soldiers to fight the troops of the other Honorbearers and is then betrayed by the troops at his old monastery, where he was first stationed as a child. Then his father appears, with the Bondsmith honorblade. The Voice has spoken to Neturo and his father assures Szeth that he is not a Voidbringer. Szeth breaks and says he’ll do whatever Neturo tells him to do.
Szeth waits while the other Honorbearers decide his fate. From their conversation he gathers that his father had known about the Voice for some time. They decide to name him Truthless and banish him. He accepts this fate as it will allow him to abstain from making any decisions, especially wrong decisions. Pozen gives Seth an Oathstone, and the Voice tells the Honorbearers to leave the Windrunner blade with Szeth. Neturo weeps as he says goodbye and tells Szeth that he can’t go with him this time.
Seeing Szeth transform from a happy, carefree child into a killer was… difficult. We meet him in The Way of Kings as that killer, the Assassin in White. And then, of course, he goes on a killing spree. Many readers have strong opinions about him, but all Szeth ever tried to do was the right thing. No matter what situation he was in, he just wanted to do what was right. We hope these flashbacks will change the minds of some fans who feel he doesn’t deserve peace and happiness.
Days One and Two: Urithiru
Day One starts with Kaladin and Shallan in the aftermath of Rhythm of War. Shallan and Adolin are still in Lasting Integrity, where they witness the departure of those willing honorspren to help the Radiant war effort. Shallan speaks with Kalak, who gives her more insight into Ba-Ado-Mishram and the Spiritual Realm.
A group of Windrunners arrives to fly them back to the Azimir Oathgate and from there return to Urithiru—but they’re attacked en route by a group of Heavenly Ones, including the formidable Abidi the Monarch. Shallan speaks yet another truth, unlocking her Shardplate and possibly a new Lightweaving ability (substantiation, anyone?) before Adolin takes down Abidi.
They make it to the Oathgate, at last, with terrible new information: A huge singer army is approaching Azimir through Shadesmar, and the Azimir Oathgate spren have been corrupted by Sja-anat. The Radiants are about to lose control of the Oathgate entirely.
Kaladin, meanwhile, is preparing for the upcoming journey to Shinovar. He begins saying goodbye to those closest to him: his family, his friends in Bridge Four, Shallan and Adolin, Wit and Dalinar. He gets some typically sage advice (and a few lessons with the flute) from Hoid before meeting with Dalinar, who offers to make Kaladin his heir in Urithiru. Kaladin refuses, but Dalinar asks him think about it. And all the while, Syl is working on making herself more manifest in the Physical Realm, hoping to become a scribe for Kaladin.
Day Two dawns with numerous people not sleeping, and their wakefulness being interrupted by the news that Adolin and Shallan have brought from Shadesmar about the impending invasion. Not gonna lie, the best POV was Queen Fen’s, and how her nakedness freaked out the guard. Oh, my… so funny. Though that could be rivaled by Shallan and Adolin’s sexy time in the shower. ::ahem:: Moving on…
The monarchs gather at Urithiru to discuss the impending attack. Fen informs them that there’s a fleet of singer ships heading to Thaylen City and wants reinforcements. Yanagawn also wants military assistance for Azir, since the Azimir Oathgate is located in the heart of the city.
They also learn that a massive singer army is headed to the Shattered Plains, including the majority of the Fused. The forces of Odium are set to invade and possibly conquer the three seats of power left to the Coalition. In doing so, Odium would gain total control of Alethkar, no matter the result of the contest of champions.
Of course everybody wants troops, but there are only so many to go around. Then the Mink pipes up to hold Dalinar to his promise to reclaim Herdaz. Though everyone is against funneling their precious resources to Herdaz, Dalinar abides by his oath and agrees to send Windrunners to assist. Yanagawn is disappointed at receiving hardly any troops—though they’re some of the best, led by Adolin, no less—because the Coalition army that was fighting in Emul is on its way to Azimir. Fen has very few ships and demands assistance on her battlefront; she gets Jasnah and what she deems too few troops. That leaves the Shattered Plains, and Dalinar assigns Sigzil to lead the troops there. Sigzil hedges but Dalinar is insistent, and Sig’s spren encourages him, so he accepts.
Dalinar and Navani slip into a private meeting with Jasnah and Wit and talk about finding the shard of Honor. Wit’s wary of Dalinar visiting the Spiritual Realm, as even he is afraid of going there. However, thanks to the intervention of Cultivation herself, Dalinar is insistent. The three of them head down into a secluded part of Urithiru to run a test, searching for a moment in Roshar’s deep past. Wit sets up the experiment and prepares Navani and Dalinar, giving them instructions to find their way to the arrival of humanity on Roshar in the Spiritual Realm and then back to the Physical.
While all of this is happening, Shallan is infiltrating a secret meeting of Ghostbloods. While undercover as a Malwish Ghostblood, she sees Sja-anat (who, amazingly, doesn’t give her away) and who draws the attention of the Malwish, including Iyatil. All the while, Mraize is playing with a crossbow loaded with anti-Stormlight bolts.
But Iyatil discovers Shallan’s ruse, and she is forced to summon her Shardplate—along with Pattern as a Shardblade and Testament as a Shardshield! But once Iyatil brings anti-Light into play, Shallan instinctively sends her spren away for fear of their destruction. (Shallan might get a lot of hate, but she’s a badass.)
Shallan tries to appeal to Mraize as she waits for reinforcements, to no avail, and he disappears into Shadesmar along with Iyatil and another of the Malwish mask-wearers.
Back at Urithiru, Renarin goes in search of Rlain, who is working with the farmers who are now very easily growing crops. Drehy drops in, notes the way Renarin is looking at Rlain, and offers to listen if Renarin ever wants to talk. It’s a very sweet moment and we’re glad that Renarin still has friends from Bridge Four that he can depend on. Then Renarin has a vision and Rlain can see it, too, so he joins Renarin. As they navigate the vision, the furious, terrifying face of a singer appears in one of the windows; Rlain is sure that it was Ba-ado-Mishram.
Then Shallan shows up to whisk the pair of them off to an Oathgate platform where some Windrunners are waiting, speaking to the three guards that have been at that post all day. They say they haven’t seen anyone, and as Shallan speaks with Renarin and Rlain about Dalinar and his plan, they decide to go to the tower on the Shadesmar side to see if they can find the three Ghostbloods they’re looking for…
They arrive right as Dalinar is opening the perpendicularity, and the Ghostbloods spring their attack—they’ve been masquerading as the three guards all along. Come on, Shallan… rookie mistake.
Though Shallan and the other Radiants defeat Mraize and his crew, Mraize uses his anti-Light dagger to collapse Dalinar’s perpendicularity. Big bada boom.
After the dust settles in the Physical Realm, Wit has saved Lift and a curious purple cremling from being sucked into the Spiritual Realm, but missed Lift’s buddy: Gavinor is now gone, along with Dalinar and Navani. When the Windrunners return to the room in Shadesmar and find everyone gone but the dead Malwish Ghostblood, Lopen decides there’s nothing they can do about the situation since Navani, who’s too busy eating, seems to shrug off the issue as no big deal. Wit did a decent job Lightweaving Navani onto Lift, but he apparently couldn’t get the voice right.
Plot Alpha: Spiritual Realm, Ba-Ado-Mishram, and the Contest of Champions
Dalinar loses a whole day, according to his wrist clock, while floating in the Spiritual Realm. Whenever he opens his eyes, he sees visions from his past. He realizes that something has gone wrong and that his Connection to the tower has been severed. Then he concentrates on the rock, trying to go to the moment the humans arrived on Roshar.
Dalinar appears in the body of a singer, oddly named Moash, and after a while, Navani shows up. She says there’s someone else in there with them and Dalinar wonders if Wit got pulled in. The Wind speaks to them and knows them for travelers, knows who they are, and mentions Szeth and Kaladin. As they talk, Dalinar insists that he needs “to know why Honor’s power abandoned mankind.” He says he has to take up the power and the Wind laughs at him.
The Wind tells them it’s time to see… and then a portal opens to a world on fire.
Then we see Shallan, floating in colors which occasionally bleed into glimpses of her past. A room forms around her, a child’s room with toy soldiers on the floor. The door opens and Pattern comes in, calling out to the others that she’s there. Renarin enters along with Glys, whom Shallan can finally see, and Rlain and his spren. They talk about finding Mraize and Iyatil and surmise that they’re likely trying to follow Dalinar through the Spiritual Realm.
Renarin remarks that finding Mishram’s prison isn’t really necessary, that they just have to stop the Ghostbloods. Pattern proclaims how good Shallan is at murder and once Renarin and Glys find that Dalinar is in a vision and they plan to go find the Ghostbloods, Pattern is very excited at the prospect of more murder.
Navani and Dalinar move onward through the history of Roshar, using first Shalash’s ribbon as a Connection to the founding of the Oathpact, and then an Honorblade to Connect with Aharietiam.
At the founding of the Oathpact, Dalinar discovers that Taln was a late addition to avoid the number nine (and that Taln tried to kill Cultivation at some point). But the Ghostbloods are still getting involved, and Mraize takes the form of Tanavast before attacking Shallan yet again.
Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain are cast back into their memories, with Shallan still struggling to face elements of her own past.
But Dalinar arrives at Aharietiam and sees in detail the broken state of the Heralds. How desperate they were, how they actually planned to abandon Taln even before the final battle, hoping he would die while the rest of them avoided combat as much as possible. They make a deal with Honor, abandon their Honorblades, and try to walk away from their duty in the Oathpact.
However, Dalinar is still missing key information in his quest to take up the mantle of Honor—and he’s missing a touchstone to continue progressing through Roshar’s history. He once again forces the issue with the Stormfather, using him to bring Navani, Gavinor, and himself to the years before the Recreance. They witness the final days of Urithiru, as the Sibling is going into hibernation, the Skybreakers split off from the rest of the Radiants, and the False Desolation erupts under Ba-Ado-Mishram’s direction.
And at long last, we discover the truth of the Recreance! The leader of the Windrunners has been working with a singer to end the war between them—and not just plotting for peace, but they’re actually in a romantic relationship! As they draw out Ba-Ado-Mishram to witness this groundbreaking bond between human and singer, however, Melishi betrays them. He traps Mishram in a perfect gem and sends both Mishram and himself into the Spiritual Realm, leaving the betrayed Radiants and slaveform singers behind, and ravaging the very identity of Roshar itself.
But now Odium is taking a direct interest in things, and he swoops in to mess up everyone’s day. Our heroes are sent into visions of their past, each to relive horrible moments, each to be subject to Odium’s breaking.
Dalinar fights his way through the worst moments of the Blackthorn, but finds himself in Elhokar’s body on the day Dalinar beat up Elhokar in the warcamps. He realizes that Gavinor is also in the vision, witnessing his Grampa beating his father to a pulp. Low blow, Odium. Low blow.
Shallan on the other hand, is sent back to the fateful day of her mother’s death—and it’s finally time to confront the truth. Shallan’s mother was none other than the Herald Chanarach, and Shallan’s actions sent her back to Braize, to be tortured once again.
The world ended, and Shallan was to blame.
From there, Shallan goes to her wedding day, which we finally get to see in detail! Everyone who was angry at Brandon for excluding it in Oathbringer? Yeah, there was a good reason for that. Take a deep breath and try to hold in the tears from Shallan’s powerful moments with Chana, forgiving her mother.
Navani, of course, is resourceful as always. She figures out what Odium is doing and manipulates the visions into bringing her and Gavinor to Kholinar, where she will have access to an Oathgate. She flees the scene of Elhokar’s death, taking Gav to the Oathgate and Connecting with the Sibling to transfer them back to Urithiru.
But Dalinar isn’t finished. Oh no, not by a long shot. He makes the ultimate discovery, witnessing the truth behind the truth, as the Stormfather—Tanavast himself!—brings Dalinar through the history of Roshar from Honor’s point of view. Dalinar sees how Tanavast battled with the Shard of Honor, how he continually betrayed his oaths even as he fought to save Roshar from Odium, how Honor abandoned Tanavast and left the Radiants with potentially unfettered access to the Surges. How Tanavast died at Odium’s hand, but Honor remained splintered.
Armed with this knowledge, Dalinar returns to Urithiru on the day of the contest of champions.
Rlain, Renarin, and Shallan are still in the Spiritual Realm, however. They start piecing together the meaning of Mishram’s appearances in their visions, and collectively they Connect to her. They discover her prison, in Melishi’s childhoom room, but they bring company as well: Mraize is here for the final showdown.
Shallan stands her ground, blocking Mraize while Renarin and Rlain approach Mishram’s gemstone prison. But Shallan isn’t alone—Formless, who has been haunting her this whole time, appears to torment her one more time. Shallan faces down Mraize and realizes that Iyatil has been curiously absent… or has she?
Shallan surprises Iyatil, hiding behind the mask of Formless, and kills her with the anti-Light knife she stole from Mraize back at the arrival of humanity on Roshar. She tries one last time to convince Mraize to come over to the right side of things, but Mraize refuses. With some quick Lightweaving and quick hands, Shallan tricks Mraize into thinking he has the last anti-Light knife—but Shallan actually does, and she kills Mraize.
All the while, Renarin and Rlain are confronted by the fury of Ba-Ado-Mishram. They realize that they must risk her wrath for the good of Roshar and, together, they break her prison. She is eager to destroy them, but they present a united human-singer front, convincing her that there is hope after all for the inhabitants of Roshar.
They are transferred to Shadesmar outside of Urithiru.
While Renarin and Rlain are freeing Mishram, however, the contest of champions begins. Dalinar gets one last story from Wit as he heads to the top of Urithiru and is confronted by Taravangian, who opens a portal to the Spiritual Realm and reveals his champion.
It’s Gavinor.
That’s right, folks, it’s Gavinor. The “suckling child” Death Rattle was foreshadowing this all along. Well… maybe.
Because it’s Gavinor, but it’s an adult Gavinor, who has spent 20 years learning to hate Dalinar in the Spiritual Realm, manipulated and molded by Odium for precisely this moment. Dalinar is crippled by indecision, dodging and fending off Gavinor’s attacks but refusing to kill his grandnephew.
He wars with himself as well as with Odium, finally understanding what Honor wants. In the moment of Mishram’s liberation, Dalinar Ascends—but still cannot defeat Odium, because to directly fight and destroy him would be to destroy Roshar itself. Dalinar enters another vision, has a slice of tasty bread with Nohadon, and realizes he must gamble if he is to save Roshar and the Cosmere itself.
He returns to Urithiru and renounces his oaths. He abandons Honor’s power once again, severs his bond with the Stormfather, and dies protecting Gavinor from the fury of Retribution.
Yup, you read that right. Retribution, not Odium. Taravangian cannot help himself and takes up the power of Honor, creating a truly horrific new Shard and drawing the attention of all the rest of the Shards. He vaporizes Wit (who survives anyway, because it’s Hoid), forges himself a new general from the spren of the Blackthorn, and reshapes Roshar under the Night of Sorrows, the true Desolation, the real Everstorm.
The Heralds and the Oathpact
There is for sure much more to discover still about the Heralds—thousands of years were skipped over as Dalinar and company jumped to the major moments of Roshar’s history—but we still got a heap of new revelations about our favorite (maybe not-so-favorite, in some cases) servants of the Almighty during the Spiritual Realm Adventure. Taln was just as awesome as expected, being the only non-noble Herald… and honestly, he was even better than expected! Who just says “You know what? I’m gonna try to kill a Shard” like that? What an absolute boss. It was a delight that he was an outcast and brought back in to be an alternate voice amongst all the kings and judges and scholars and nobles among the Heralds.
Gavinor
This poor kid.
Seriously, what did little Gav ever do to deserve this life? First he gets tortured by spren while his corrupted mother looks on, then he gets ripped from his father’s arms and has to watch him get murdered from mere inches away, then he gets cast into the Spiritual Realm in a total accident… and it only gets worse from there.
Odium’s plan to use Gav as his pawn in the contest of champions is among the most utterly evil things we’ve seen a character do in these books. TWENTY YEARS of reliving the worst of Dalinar’s actions, of seeing his family torn apart in violence, and then treated as a puppet atop Urithiru.
At least he lived, and perhaps he’ll have a chance to truly rehabilitate himself over the coming years.
Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain
It felt like a bit of expedience on Brandon’s part to pull these three into Dalinar’s Spiritual Realm shenanigans. We absolutely needed to get the rest of Shallan’s story, so that worked very nicely through these visions of her past. Her conversation with her mother after the wedding was beautifully done, a truly heart-wrenching moment of pain and forgiveness.
Then, of course, she has her big final battle with the Rosharan Ghostbloods—but not all of them! Who expected Shallan to end this book stuck in Shadesmar, pregnant (!), and having a conversation with Kelsier himself while Mistborn Era 2 happens in the background?
Final Thoughts on Plot Alpha
When we were trying to figure out how structure this whole thing, this section was tricky, because in a lot of ways, what we’ve labeled “Plot Alpha” is really two separate, major plot lines that happen to share some of the same space. It’s crazy to think about how streamlined (hah) The Way of Kings was in its character and plot arcs compared to what we’re now seeing with the interwoven stories of Dalinar, Navani, Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain here in Wind and Truth.
But finally getting to see the history of Roshar was a cathartic experience, no matter how it was structured. So many mysteries were answered, so many theories were confirmed or debunked (Chana’s identity and Gavinor’s fate chief among them). The shocking level of candor from Tanavast’s chapters in Day Nine was pure Cosmere hype—we have all sixteen Shards named now! More dragons! More Sho Del!—and of course the incredible spectacle of the final contest.
There has been a lot of concern over the years about whether Brandon would have Dalinar Ascend to Honor and whether the “Main Character Becomes a Shard” conclusion would start to feel stale. We think it’s safe to say that Brandon did a fantastic job of both meeting and subverting expectations with Retribution and the contest in general.
If we were going to mention any nitpicks for this plot arc, it’s likely that things in the Spiritual Realm can feel a bit undirected at times, as the characters are all sort of just trying to figure out what’s going and how things work. But Brandon cleverly brings it all back together in a neat way, and arranges events so that all of the various characters inform the conclusion in substantial ways.
Plot Beta: The Scouring of the Shire… erm, of Shinovar
Szeth absolutely does not want to hear whatever Kaladin has to say to him in order to address his mental and emotional issues. But that doesn’t stop Kaladin from trying; he’s nothing if not determined. They visit Szeth’s long-abandoned homestead, Syl says she feels something coming, and they find a small, terrified spren. The Wind speaks, saying that the spren fear what could be the end of all spren. Syl mentions that Wind, Stone, and Night have been there since before humans arrived on Roshar and that while few spren remember them, there are things older than the gods in Shinovar.
Despite Kaladin’s best efforts (including stew), Szeth remains determined that he deserves the torments he experiences. After a brief chat with Ishar, they head first to the Stoneward monastery, where (surprise!) the Honorbearer Rit awaits them, Taln’s Honorblade in hand.
Szeth wins the Blade in single combat, unlocking his Division Surgebinding along the way. The pilgrimage is officially underway, and the Willshaper Blade is next. This one belongs to Sivi, once Szeth’s mentor… and they find her dead when they arrive at the next monastery. She refused to succumb to the corruption, writing “I will not bow to him” as her final words.
The next challenge is an unexpected one, however, as Szeth finds himself transported into Shadesmar, where the Elsecaller and Edgedancer Honorbearers ambush him. He survives, thanks to the help of Nightblood, and defeats them both. That’s three Honorblades in Szeth’s pack, now, with six more to go.
Kaladin and Szeth notice that, after each Honorbearer is defeated, it’s like a shadow is lifted from the lands around the monasteries. They worry about which Unmade is corrupting Shinovar, but know that they have to complete the pilgrimage in order to get all of their answers.
Szeth continues his stellar work, defeating Honorbearers one by one, but he needs the timely help of both Syl and Kaladin along the way—especially during the tricky Lightweaver showdown, where Syl helps Szeth solve an illusion puzzle.
Soon enough, only two Honorbearers remain: Nale and Ishar. Szeth, finally beginning to understand Kaladin’s advice regarding his mental health, chooses not to fight—even though Nale reveals that this entire pilgrimage is to prepare Szeth for inclusion among the Heralds. Disgusted, Nale moves in for the kill… but Kaladin steps in as Szeth’s champion and fights the Herald of the Skybreakers.
But it’s for naught. Nale is too strong, too powerful, even without Stormlight. He reveals that the Heralds can tap into the primal forces of Roshar itself, moving with superhuman speed and skill. He breaks Kaladin’s armor, but Kaladin’s last-ditch attempt to tell the story of Derethil and the Wandersail pays dividends: The Wind itself brings the song to Nale, breaking through his madness and allowing him to truly remember and understand all he’s done.
Nale, broken, joins Kaladin and Szeth for their final challenge against the mad Bondsmith, Ishar. There, Szeth finds the Honorbearers reborn (except for the Edgedancer, whom he killed with Nightblood) thanks to Ishar, turning them into a new kind of Fused. Indeed, Ishar himself is the corrupting force in Shinovar, and not an Unmade at all. He had tapped into Odium’s perpendicularity in an effort to make of himself a replacement for the Almighty, as well as taking upon himself much of the pain from the other Heralds.
Kaladin tries to talk Ishar down while Szeth gets pummeled by the Honorbearers in a fight meant to simply humble him (because a Herald must be accomplished, but not arrogant). Ishar scoffs at Kaladin, but all is not lost! Szeth skips the Fourth Ideal entirely, swearing the Fifth, Nightblood pipes up and lets Szeth know that he can grant all ten Surges, and Szeth takes the fight to the Honorbearers. Ishar is forced to step in directly and Connects to Kaladin, Syl, and Szeth, forcing them to feel all the pain he bears… but now it’s Kaladin’s turn.
He swears the Fifth Ideal as well, snapping Ishar out of his madness. It’s time for a new Oathpact to be made, but Szeth is crippled by Nightblood. Kaladin sees what he can do and offers himself instead, replacing Jezrien and joining the Heralds in their defense of the spren after Retribution’s birth.
Kaladin, Syl, and the Flute
Kaladin spends a lot of this book working on not fighting, avoiding violence where he can. He replaces it with a new practice, thanks to Wit: playing the flute. It’s charming, in a way, to see Kaladin stumble through the beginning stages of doing something he’s not excellent at (as he was with a spear).
This also brings up an unavoidable topic—Kaladin and Syl as a couple. Syl spent the entire book gaining greater and greater presence in the Physical Realm, and there are a whole bunch of relationship flags popping up around these two characters. This is a contentious possibility, to say the least, with readers sharply divided among those who hate the idea of Kal and Syl being romantically involved, and those who absolutely love it.
While nothing for sure happens here in Wind and Truth, it’s noteworthy that Kaladin replaces the King of the Heralds and Syl gains a crown, herself, at the end.
Szeth’s Spren
Poor 12124. It’s frankly shocking how quickly Brandon managed to make this stuffy, stuck-up spren into a sympathetic figure by the end of the book. Once he drops the lordly highspren act and reveals his vulnerability and inexperience to Szeth, he becomes a good partner for him. But in the end, Szeth makes the critical choice to release 12124 from his bond (boy, that happened a lot in this book, didn’t it?), sending him into exile in Shadesmar.
Where, yep, he meets Sigzil in an Iriali caravan. I wonder what hijinks they’ll get up together? One can only imagine…
Final Thoughts on Plot Beta
So many wild, interesting things happened in Shinovar. Seeing Kaladin becoming a Herald was something a great number of readers predicted would happen, so it won’t have been a surprise to them. Unfortunately, he’s no longer “with us,” so to speak, and that will displease a lot of fans. But King of the Heralds? Come on, that’s cool.
Szeth skipping right over the Fourth Ideal to speak the Fifth was epic. And we got to see Kaladin’s Fifth, too. Radiants leveling up is always thrilling, and Brandon didn’t disappoint with these two characters!
Plot Gamma: The Shattered Plains Battlefront
One of the three major battlefronts during the final ten days, the Shattered Plains once again get their time in the sun. Er, well… under the storm.
Sigzil, now leading the Windrunners, is given command of the Narak stronghold. He works with Dalinar’s generals to develop an unorthodox plan, strategically and deliberately ceding ground to the hundreds of Fused Odium has gathered to retake the Plains.
Day-by-day, the plan works… but they’re running out of Stormlight, thanks to Dalinar’s sudden absence. They’re also understaffed, with half the Windrunners busy ferrying the Mink and his men to Herdaz.
To make matters worse, the enigmatic El is now in command of Odium’s forces, and he has the services of Dai-Gonarthis to ferry in huge numbers of troops from the Horneater Peaks. Not only that, but Moash is back and scarier than ever, transformed into a Rosharan Inquisitor thanks to crystal spikes through his eyes.
In Moash’s first clash with the Windrunners, he kills Leyten. His final moments reveal that Moelach is present with a Death Rattle prophesying Sigzil’s death at the hands of Moash.
While all this chaos is underway, Venli is busy trying to figure out how to save the Listener nation. She listens to the stones, which tell her to take a small group to the heart of the Shattered Plains. There, she discovers Odium’s perpendicularity, sealed away far below Narak. But Odium’s forces discover them, and she and Leshwi are taken before El.
She strikes a deal, but has an ace up her sleeve. She also makes a deal with Sigzil and Jasnah, and when the time comes for Sigzil’s forces to retreat to Urithiru, Venli and her Listeners are left alone on Narak—securing control of the Shattered Plains for themselves, thanks to the contract between Odium and Dalinar.
But things are never too easy. As Sigzil prepares to leave the Shattered Plains, Moash has one more ambush in store. He takes Sig down with an Surgebinding-negating fabrial and moves in for the kill on Sigzil’s spren, Vienta. Desperate, Sigzil renounces his oaths and saves her, before Bridge Four moves in and chases off Moash.
Sigzil the Leader
The driving theme of Sigzil’s character arc here is his reluctance to step up and take responsibility for the Windrunners. He’s never been a leader before, and he carries with him the guilt of failing Hoid’s tutelage. It’s nice to see him grow, thanks in large part to the support of his friends in Bridge Four. Kaladin really built a team with them, and they know how to support each other no matter who’s “in charge.”
Moash
Well, huh. We sure weren’t expecting this out of Moash. The Rosharan Hemalurgy was a really cool touch, and he’s back to being downright scary… but that’s it? We get a couple scenes of him going after Bridge Four, then he just nopes out and we never see him again?
It seems a bit underwhelming, after all that’s been built up around him over the past 5000+ pages. We guess Brandon must be saving something special for him in the back half of the series…
El
So El is still a huge mystery, isn’t he? Even with another POV from him in the interludes. We still don’t know what brand of Fused he is. Apparently he has a Shardblade? What kind? Is it a deadeye Blade (and will it start to awaken)? Does he somehow have a Radiant bond? Is this a new type of Shardblade entirely? Cuz that seems like something El would be interested in making happen…
Final Thoughts on Plot Gamma
While this battlefront didn’t get the same pagetime as Adolin in Azimir, it did a lot of work to really set the tone for this book. The desperate battle under perpetual stormclouds, the death of the highstorm as it hit the Everstorm, the knowledge from the start that it was a losing battle… yeah, this was some dark stuff.
And despite that, Brandon managed to give it a silver lining. The Listeners get their independence! (And they have chasmfiends that are basically just giant golden retrievers—just try to tell us that Thundercloud isn’t a Good Boy. We dare you.)
Plot Delta: Azimir Battlefront
Adolin arrives in Azimir and inspects the dome that is built around the Oathgate. It’s about 200 yards across, with the Oathgate measuring about 25 feet across. He surveys the platform where archers are already in position, and the bags of oil hanging from the ceiling that can be set on fire, which would cause them to lose the dome. He thinks of how those won’t be as effective against the singers or Fused as the Azish might think they will be, and that they’ll need boots on the ground inside the dome to keep the singers from taking it, which would give them a staging ground right in the middle of the city.
The awakening of the Sibling and the tower seems to have had a positive effect on Maya. She can see through Adolin’s eyes and they can communicate; she speaks right into his mind now and their connection is stronger. She’s interested in the defense of the Oathgate; she and Adolin talk about it, with him telling her how singers fight differently than humans and how they’re harder to kill. Maya actually displays some knowledge of military tactics; Adolin is impressed with how much she has to say. He can even think his thoughts at her and carry on a conversation mentally. Though it’s a struggle for her, she keeps trying. That’s our Maya. Colot talks with Adolin about the battle arena and tells Adolin he should take control of the Azish forces, though Adolin declines.
We learn that Gallant is there, too. Because, of course he is. And then we learn that Adolin is wearing a cape with his uniform. Because, of course he is.
They exit the dome area to see Azish troops and meet the leader of the city’s Imperial Guard—Commandant Supreme Kushkam, who Adolin has heard is good at the card game called towers. The Commandant thinks Adolin has come to take over the defense of his city and Adolin says he’s just there to help… with all of two thousand troops. Which is almost as much as Kushkam’s three thousand troops. Not much of a defense and many days to go before the troops coming from Emul arrive. Then they see the palanquin of the Emperor approaching and Adolin takes Gallant for a spin around the dome while they wait and while Alethi soldiers emerge from the dome. He thinks of his mother and how she taught him to fight for something and he thinks of how he’ll protect Azimir, whatever it takes.
Adolin meets with Yanagawn and Noura along with Kushkam, who still has a chip on his shoulder when it comes to Adolin. No matter what Adolin says, Kushkam doesn’t like it so Adolin apologizes and relays that he’ll follow Kushkam’s guidance. They had mentioned playing towers and Yanagawn asks Adolin what that is. Adolin is surprised that he doesn’t already know, then promises that he’ll teach him the game.
Once they’re dismissed, Adolin and Colot meet with the Scribes that have been sent to assist him. Highprince Aladar’s daughter May is among them, which might be a bit awkward as Adolin kind of dated her once. But though she seems cold, she’s all business and sets to the tasks assigned to her. Talking to her father, Adolin promises to do his best to keep her safe, and reminds him that she’s quite the accomplished archer, before Aladar heads to the Oathgate to transfer to Urithiru before they’re no longer able to use the Oathgate. Then Adolin heads off to meet with his armorers as he expects battle within the hour.
Adolin doffs his cape and dons his Shards as Maya watches the singers and Fused approaching the Oathgate in Shadesmar. Adolin directs May, the head scribe, to get her bow. She’s an archer and he wants her on the balcony. He directs Colot to have two of their archers report to her and places her in command of twenty of their best archers. Then he heads to the catwalk to observe the Oathgate.
Voidspren enter first, to scout the Oathgate platform and the surrounding area. They then transfer back to Shadesmar to report. Adolin sends a suggestion to Kushkam, who had a thousand men inside the dome and who ignores Adolin’s suggestion. Then the Oathgate control room flashes, admitting the enemy. The assault on Azimir has begun.
Adolin watches from the catwalk until it seems that singers will breach the ring of Azish soldiers. He leaps to the floor of the dome below and does his thing, laying about with his Mayablade, which he summoned instantly. His guard rushes in to protect him from being surrounded Then several Heavenly Ones appear, Abidi the Monarch among them. He can’t seem to use the surge of Gravitation and Adolin wonders if he damaged the Fused’s gemheart when they fought in Shadesmar. As they fight, Abidi calls the retreat and the singers return to Shadesmar. The first advance has been rebuffed.
Outside the dome, he sees Kushkam approaching Yanagawn and he intercedes, saying how great the Azish soldiers had been and praising Kushkam. He wants to make nice with the general, and succeeds. Then Adolin speaks with Yanagawn, offering to give him lessons with the sword. Yanagawn asks if Adolin will also teach him the game of towers, and that sets up Yanagawn’s arc nicely.
As the fighting continues, Adolin receives word that the army coming from Emul has met with resistance, causing them to be delayed. He rests while one of his backups takes his yard plate. Adeline senses that the Plate is resistant, but he touches the breastplate and tells it to go and protect the other bearer as it protected him. This was super interesting because of course it’s not living Plate.
During a visit to the wounded, Adolin sees Shalash sitting by a bed which contains Taln, seeming to be asleep but muttering as he usually does. He hadn’t known they were in as Azimir. When his one healer, a Truthwatcher scribe, asks if she should try to heal him, Adolin tells her that her healing wouldn’t be able to do anything for him.
Adolin takes his Plate and visits with Yanagawn. The young emperor has the Plate strapped on and takes some time to practice just wearing it and doing simple tasks. Then he begins teaching him the game of towers. He is later stopped by Noura, one of Yanagawn’s viziers, who tells him to back off. She thinks he’ll corrupt the Emperor, perhaps encouraging him to give up his throne. Adolin insists that the boy needs a friend and that he doesn’t want anything from Yanagawn. Adolin really is the best boy.
During one fight, Adolin is trying to keep from getting surrounded by Direforms when he hears a voice telling him that the Azish Shardbearer is down on the other side of the control room and the enemy fortifications that surround it. Adolin can’t fight through the Direforms flanking him so he charges forward, through the enemy fortifications and uses a storming Direform to beat back the other Regals. They break leaving one Fused, Abidi the Monarch, who calls Adolin Radiant and basically announces he’s going to bathe in Adolin’s blood, and then retreats. Then Adolin turns to the spren who had helped him, it was Notum. The honorspren says he came to help but that he would not bond a human; Adolin names him a Captain and assigned him to run messages.
Later, after sparring with Yanagawn and playing towers, Adolin learns that the armies from Emul and Tashikk were the ones harrying the Alethi army. It seems Odium made a deal with them and they were working to delay the military support that Adolin was waiting for. They were going to get no help.
Colot takes Adolin to the top of one of the buildings in Azimir and shows him a pair of binoculars. Through them, Adolin sees four Heavenly Ones approaching. He expects something to happen soon. He speaks with Commandant Kushkam, who also expects a large-scale attack. Adolin hears Maya saying that help is coming but he worries that it will be too little, too late.
Adolin summons Notum who sees the soul of a Thunderclast in Shadesmar. Adolin rushes from the dome, sounding the alarm, as the great stone behemoth rises from the ground outside the city walls. Adolin reveals an aluminum chain to be used to trip the Thunderclast and is joined by the Azish Shardbearer, who summons his Blade. Adolin sends a thought to Maya, letting her know that he may need to summon her. She asks him not to, stating that she’s close.
Try as he might to wrap the chain around the Thunderclast’s feet, Adolin is unsuccessful. He’s dealt a blow that damages his Plate and then the Thunderclast smashes the Azish Shardbearer into tiny pieces. The Dome has failed and Kushkan orders the firebombs.
Adolin feels worthless and defeated… for a moment. Then he calls to Gallant, mounts, and chases after the Thunderclast. Adolin gets ahead of the Thunderclast and climbs a watchtower. He leaps onto the monster’s back and tries to stab it in the neck. The thing shakes itself, trying to throw Adolin off. Finally he’s able to sink the Azish Shardbearer’s Blade into the creature’s neck. It freezes… and then falls on top of him.
Adolin survives, but his right leg below the knee was crushed by the Thunderclast, and he loses it. As his guard helps him get back to the dome, they find hundreds of singers and Fused dead, first scattered then culminating in a pile. Atop the pile they find Taln, dead. He has numerous spears piercing his body and he died while sitting. Adolin finds Ash behind him and she also dies, after saying that Taln won’t be alone this time. It’s rather heartbreaking and I wish we’d been able to see Taln fighting onscreen.
Adolin is healed… but not fully. The budding Truthwatcher doesn’t have full mastery of Regrowth, so Adolin is fitted with a peg.
He is forced to take on a new role, leading from behind the lines and continuing his tutelage of Yanagawn in the game of towers. It’s particularly difficult for Adolin to handle, as the fighting is growing ever more desperate. They could really use a consummate Shardbearer like him to hold back the tide, but they have to give his Plate to another soldier instead.
Indeed, on the ninth day, the replacement Shardbearer falls. Adolin is forced to join the lines as a last resort, peg leg notwithstanding, and he witnesses none other than Abidi the Monarch step forth from the ruined dome, wearing Adolin’s old Shardplate and wielding the Azish Shardblade.
Adolin resolves to die in a final stand, but is rescued by Colot and Yanagawn. They hide in the safe room as Azimir finally falls.
But what’s that? Hope is not all lost? Thanks to Yanagawn’s knowledge from his less-scrupulous childhood, they hatch a plan to sneak into the palace and seize the throne room before the deadline, which would leave them in control of Azir on a technicality. With Maya on the way, promising reinforcements soon, Adolin, Yanagawn, Colot, May, and the rest steal across the city and into the palace.
But it’s a trap. Of course it’s a trap.
Abidi seals Adolin inside the aluminum-lined throne room while Yanagawn and the rest are surrounded in the hall outside by Fused and Regals.
At last, Abidi gets his big showdown with Adolin. Using an aluminum candelabra, Adolin desperately fends off Abidi’s Shardblade and stumbles around the room on his peg leg. Even after stabbing Abidi in the eye, however, Adolin can’t overcome the Fused. He’s driven to the floor and has no chance of survival… except for one factor he hadn’t foreseen. His Shardplate, newly awakened, forsakes Abidi and returns to Adolin. Abidi’s blow is blocked, and the tables are turned.
Maya arrives with a host of deadeyes, who manifest as Shardblades and Plate for Adolin’s cohort in the hallway. A huge brawl breaks out, with the new Unoathed wielding Shards against Odium’s forces. Even Notum gets his own set of Shardplate! Adolin, with Maya, kills Abidi. The day is won in Azimir, and the deadline comes with Noura holding the throne.
Unfortunately for Adolin, however, the results of Dalinar’s showdown mean that Azimir is totally cut off from Urithiru. Despite being the one place on Roshar with a break in the perpetual storm, the one ray of light in the Night of Sorrows, Adolin must do without Regrowth for his leg. He and the other Unoathed prepare for uncertain tomorrows with the support of their new spren.
Mayalaran
After the first advance by the singers is rebuffed, Maya tells Adolin that she might be able to get more honorspren to come help. Adolin tells her she can go; she bids him not summon her as she’ll have to start the journey over. Adolin knows there are some warhammers that he can use while wearing his Plate, so he plans on doing that rather than utilizing his Mayablade.
As the last stand in Azimir begins to falter, Maya sends a thought to Adolin, letting him know that she is coming. Later, as Adolin and the others hide in the safe room, she reassures him that his life isn’t meaningless. She’s come so far since she first told him her name in Oathbringer, it’s quite moving to see her mentally holding conversations with Adolin. He’s not Radiant but they do have a unique and special bond.
The best part about Maya leaving to get help was that she brought deadeyes back with her. Honor love that spren!
Yanagawn
Gawx is just a great kid, isn’t he?
His earnest desire to be more than a figurehead underscores this entire plotline. From the moments of him struggling against the rigid, bureaucratic social bonds of the Azish to the quiet and enthusiastic games of towers with Adolin, it’s easy to remember the awkward kid who helped Lift’s crew break into the palace way back in Words of Radiance.
But despite that familiarity, he grows so much in this book. It’s truly satisfying to see him step up and personally help Adolin in the final, desperate moments of the ninth day. And it’s maybe even better when he sheds his Imperial Robes and resumes his role as street thief to get them into the palace for their final play—the scene with the guard refusing to believe he’s the Prime Aqasix was low-key hilarious.
He also gets to continue growing into his throne, too, which is wonderful. We hope Yanagawn and Azir get to play a big role in the back half of the series!
Taln and Ash
Ash sits beside Taln in the makeshift hospital when she hears it go quiet outside. Then, voices. She sees Abidi the Monarch, who she knows, enter the hall where he orders all of the wounded to be killed. Ash is ready to give up, but Taln? It seems as if that threat, to kill the broken, woke him and made him lucid. And he was ready to fight.
That moment was one of the most purely adrenaline-fueled in the entire book. Brandon refusing to show Taln in action was a bold choice, but one that works—it allows us as readers to imagine all the incredibly cool things he did in taking on a wave of Fused barehanded while simultaneously maintaining the mystique and awe of this most dangerous of warriors.
Adolin finding Taln, with Shalash cradled against him, was a tremendous, bittersweet moment (one of Drew’s favorite in the whole book, in fact). Ash’s last words, showing her resolve to be better as a Herald, were the literary cherry on top. Brandon nailed it with this one.
Final Thoughts on Plot Delta
This whole plot line just oozes the grim weariness of war. Adolin is forced to confront several problems within himself, just as he must problem-solve for the problems facing Azir. First, he has to wrestle with his feelings of increasing worthlessness in a world of Radiants; second, he still hasn’t forgiven his father for… well, anything.
Adolin does get his moments of apotheosis, though they come at a tremendous cost. He becomes the first of the Unoathed, his empathy and generosity paying off through the awakening of the deadeyes. While he may be missing a leg, he now has a set of supremely helpful Shardplate that accommodates his injury.
But when it comes to Dalinar, Adolin had a harder time. It was only in what he thought were his last moments when he finally brought himself to let go of his resentment, his anger toward his father. We wonder if Dalinar’s sacrifice will carry forward with Adolin, or if his renewed lease on life will bring with it more lingering effects in the back five books.
Plot Epsilon: Thaylen City Battlefront
Jasnah
Jasnah arrives in Thaylen City with her reinforcements and meets with Queen Fen. She’s distracted and out of sorts, thinking about all that’s to come, all that’s happened up to this point. Then we get a peek at how she wrote a letter to break up with Wit. A letter? Come on, Jasnah. She and Fen talk about defenses while the generals head off with Kmakl to decide where to integrate the Alethi troops.
After the strategy meeting, Jasnah is feeling that she is missing something. Ivory tells her that maybe they need a scholar right now. She goes to the temple of Taln, which Dalinar had restored in Oathbringer, and tries to think logically. After exploring every pathway to discover why Odium was attacking the city yet again, she comes to the conclusion that there are no troops on the ships heading their way. She needs Windrunners to get close to those ships.
The Windrunners that scouted the fleet heading to Thaylen City confirm Jasnah’s theory; the holds of the ships were full of stone and the singers on the decks were likely there to give the impression that there was no room below. The Windrunners also suspect that the singers are mere laborers and not soldiers. Fen is skeptical but Jasnah insists that they need to send reinforcements to the Shattered Plains, as that Oathgate has spren that haven’t yet been enlightened by Sja-anat. Fen leaves to speak with the Council and Jasnah begins to draw up orders.
Unfortunately, Jasnah has to compromise with Fen. She sends the Radiants to the Shattered Plains but leaves the troops in Thaylen City, just in case. She regrets not being able to send Radiants to Adolin, as she knows about his dire situation. Wit has also been in contact so she’s aware that Dalinar and Navani aren’t around. With Ivory spying on one of Fen’s meetings, Odium appears to Jasnah, complimenting her on her discovery that there were no troops in the ships. Then he appears to her as Taravangian and says that by the following evening, Thaylen City will fall and that he’s come to see to it personally. This is incredibly unsettling, and it’s worrisome that he’s so confident that he’ll take the city.
Jasnah meets with Fen and Taravangian, who tries to say that Jasnah has been working for him—for Odium—her entire life. He tries to convince Fen to follow him, promising to spare her city. If she doesn’t follow him, he says he’ll destroy her city. Fen is adamant about staying in the Coalition. Then Odium brings up what Jasnah did in Kharbranth the night she took Shallan out into the city and killed the cutpurses. Finally, he pulls out the contract Jasnah had made to have her sister-in-law, Aesudan, assassinated. Then Odium pulls up a vision of Jasnah, Wit, Dalinar, and Navani meeting in Urithiru—in which Jasnah said that sometimes you have to think about yourself first. Jasnah sits in shock as Fen and Taravangian negotiate and, in the end, Fen agrees that Thaylenah will switch sides to join Odium.
Odium visits Jasnah again as she’s trying to figure out where she went wrong. He tells her she has always been his servant. Then he proposes that she rule Roshar as he turns his attention to the Cosmere. He says he will make her Fused and she proclaims that she would never do that. But… she does consider the offer. Then she learns that the Thaylen Central Council has voted to accept Odium’s offer.
Queen Fen
It’s pretty shocking to think about the huge swing in tone Queen Fen gets in this book. From the opening scene on Day Two, almost slapstick in its use of nudity and awkwardness for humor, to the crushing loss of Thaylen City, a choice made of Fen’s own volition… wow. Talk about a powerful arc.
Brandon handled it neatly, too. Fen has always been the skeptic, one of the first to challenge Dalinar and Navani and Jasnah. She’s shrewd and self-interested, even as she works to secure the best for her people. With the debate hinging on the flaws of utilitarianism (a very flawed outlook, as any freshman ethics or philosophy class will reveal), it’s no wonder Fen was willing to leave Jasnah and the Urithiru coalition. Odium played his cards well with her.
And now Thaylen fleets and shipwrights will be working for Retribution’s forces in the back half, with all the ports of the world under their control. If Azimir is a bright spot in the geopolitical landscape, Thaylenah reminds us that there’s still an overwhelming amount of darkness yet to come.
Final Thoughts on Plot Epsilon
We can’t completely fault Fen for doing as she did; she was looking out for her people. Though she essentially made the same deal with Odium that Taravangian had made when looking to preserve Kharbranth, she’s not as loathsome as he was, following his Diagram and sending Szeth to slaughter scores of people. It’s still so sad to us that Urithiru is essentially cut off from the entirety of the continent.
Seeing Jasnah broken is hard. Storming hard. She’s always been so stalwart, so sure and confident. Seeing how Taravangian used her own words against her to turn Fen was absolutely heart-wrenching. Still, we look forward to her flashbacks… eventually.
Welp—We Weren’t Expecting That!
AKA, wait… What just happened?
One word: Retribution. Need we say more?
Or how about Cosmere Blackthorn? No more Stormlight? The Night of Sorrows, eternal darkness across Roshar (except for Urithiru, which is totally isolated, and Azimir)? The sheer amount of insanity during those final chapters was just blow after blow.
Hoid had the Dawnshard all along, and had to give it to Sigzil at the last second, to avoid Retribution becoming even more dangerous… and then we get scenes with Hoid on Scadrial, of all places! We didn’t expect Mistborn to literally show up so suddenly in The Stormlight Archive, that’s for sure.
And again, Moash. To add to the (very little) bit about his appearance on the Shattered Plains mentioned above… why is he still alive, Brandon? I know a lot of fans will be disappointed that he didn’t get his comeuppance—Paige, at least, is extremely disappointed… but maybe we’ll see something spectacular from him in the back five.
Oh, and how about Lift going toe-to-toe with a full Feruchemist and breaking her legs. Now we’ve got Lift/Vasher buddy adventures in store, and we’re sure THAT is gonna be a wild ride!
There were many theories about who Odium’s champion would be, and an aged-up Gavinor was a popular theory, but we were taken aback by it. At least Paige was. It was just horrible, what Odium put that child through. Though not wholly unexpected that he would do something horrible. This is Taravangian holding Odium’s Shard, after all.
Epigraphs
Without getting too far into the weeds here, because there is a veritable thicket of weeds, the epigraphs were a solid mix of revisiting old eponymous epigraph texts and bringing in the new spice that we’ve all come to expect.
The first thing that stands out is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the structure of the epigraphs. This is, after all, The Stormlight Archive. Three of Sixteen may have once ruled, but structure still reigns.
(Just kidding, the Broken One definitely reigns now.)
Anyway, Day One leads off with Knights of Wind and Truth, which fits nicely. However, Days Two, Four, Six, Eight, and Ten correspond with the in-world texts for books one through five. We expect Brandon had a nice little chuckle when he realized he could do that.
Of the other epigraph sets, two stand out. In Day Five, we have the return of the Cosmere Postal Service with a letter from Endowment to Hoid. In some ways, this is old hat—it’s Endowment telling Hoid to knock it off and mind his own business, to stop trying to convince the Shards to break their agreement of isolation.
But in others… hoo buddy, it’s shiny new. Valor is in hiding, and once had a unique relationship with Hoid. Moreover, Endowment calls out Hoid’s own motives, which he seems to be keeping quiet from most of the Shards, and notes that he keeps going to worlds “where legends abound of the dead being raised.”
Well, that’s ominous, isn’t it?
And then there’s Day Seven, which is an unaddressed and unsigned letter of apology. It positively drips the sense of deep lore, making us wonder if this is a letter between Shards, or perhaps another letter from Hoid to a Shard (maybe Valor, after Endowment chastised him so harshly?).
We can only hope that this trend of letters exchanged among the oldest beings in the Cosmere continues in the back half of the series!
Epilogues
We have two relatively short epilogues here (well, one epilogue and a storming postlude). The first is our standard Hoid monologue, this time holding forth about improvisation in the creation of art as he goes about his day on Scadrial, getting a job as a coachman for a certain *cough* character *cough* in Elendel.
But lastly is the Postlude to the Stormlight Archive. In an appropriate bit of symmetry, the POV is once again Kalak as he approaches a gathering of the Heralds. He’s in a grassy field, with beautiful clear skies and no pain at all, thanks to Ishar and Kaladin. His fear is still present, his indecision still plaguing him… but Kaladin extends a hand in friendship, and says they can work on it.
Final Thoughts on Wind and Truth
This book is… a lot.
There’s no doubting that. It’s one of the longest fantasy books ever published; the longest in The Stormlight Archive by almost 50,000 words (or ~9% longer than Rhythm of War). It features a frankly insane number of major plotlines—just look back at how long this review got!
It also had a lot of weight on its shoulders. Brandon has always been clear about how he views The Stormlight Archive as his magnum opus, and the unique split-arc structure meant that this book needed to carry off a major climax. And… it did.
The landscape has changed, both literally and metaphorically. Retribution is here, the Night of Sorrows is here. Stormlight is gone from Roshar, Dalinar is dead, Navani is in a magical coma, Kaladin is a Herald (but thought dead among the survivors on Roshar). Things can simply never be the same again.
Looking Ahead to the Second Arc
What We Know
Well, we know what Brandon’s plan is for the flashback characters, at least. In order: Lift, Renarin, Shalash, Taln, and Jasnah. Brandon has also spoken about having the main characters from the front five become more side characters, with others stepping into more important roles.
What We Want
More than anything, Drew would like to see Brandon lean all the way into the huge change on Roshar. There’s no more Stormlight… so let’s call the back five The Warlight Archive or The Voidlight Archive! Heck, we even got a “Postlude to The Stormlight Archive” in this book. That sure sounds like something that should happen after The Stormlight Archive is over, right?
What We Expect
We expect Lift to become a much bigger deal. She’ll have had a decade or so to continue growing up, but she’s still has the proverbial gun above the mantel, flashing a giant neon sign saying CULTIVATION HAS A ROLE FOR YOU. There’s no way she doesn’t become a central figure in the next five books.
Similarly, the Heralds. Yeah, we got some answers here, but we’re getting Herald flashbacks in books 8 and 9. That’s got to be a warning sign that there are still big secrets hiding in their pasts. And besides, Taln went absolutely bananas on the Fused in Azimir, but we never got to actually see it. We demand an epic Taln scene in the back five, Brandon!
We hope you’ve enjoyed our whirlwind of spoilers for Wind and Truth. And if you’ve already read the book—and we certainly hope you have—we hope you enjoyed it. Leave your thoughts in the comments! Tell us what we missed, tell us what we got right, and wrong. We want to see it!
Paige, Drew, and Lyndsey will be back in mid-January to bring you reread articles starting with chapter 34. We hope you join us for those, to discuss the book in a little more depth.
Greetings and welcome back to the Wind and Truth Reread, Cosmere chickens! Drew, Paige, and I are back from our holiday hiatus, and we’re hankering for some hefty discussions of Brandon Sanderson’s epic conclusion of the first arc of The Stormlight Archive. If you were following our analysis during the preview chapters, you may have noticed that we were playing coy about overarching themes and theories; now, however, the gloves are off. The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a reread rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content). Please remember, though, when posting or commenting about these chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Please note: We do ask that you remain cordial to your fellow fans. Discussion and criticism of the work (and this article) are allowed and encouraged, but let’s keep the conversation constructive and be respectful of others, as always. Now, with that out of the way…
If you’re joining us for the first time, welcome! These articles are meant to serve as supplementary discussions to a read-through of the book—you can find our discussions of the first section of the novel (covering Days 1 and 2) here. We’ll be discussing the overarching plot (Paige), character arcs, fashion, and battle strategies (Lyn), and Cosmere theories and lore (Drew). If there are other topics you’d like to see us delve into, please feel free to let us know in the comments, and be sure to check out the social media section at the end of each week’s article to see if we spotlighted one of your comments!
Lyn: I’m so psyched to start in on the defense of Azimir section. Adolin’s progression in this book was one of my favorite parts.
Drew: I admit that I have some mixed emotions about Adolin’s chapters in this book. For me, they range from among the best of the book to some of the most eye-rolling. But for Day Three, it’s a welcome breath of fresh air to finally settle into his conflict in Azimir. Kushkam and Yanagawn have some great moments with him—one of which happens right away in chapter 34!
P: I’ve got to say that Adolin’s arc in Azimir is definitely one of my favorite parts of the book. He really evolves quite a bit, from a talented duelist to something far, far more during these days of battle.
L: That’s okay, Drew, it’s fine to be wrong about how awesome Adolin’s parts are ;) How about Cosmere stuff? Do we have any interesting things you’re excited to sink your teeth into for these chapters?
D: The epigraphs are always among the most exciting elements of Stormlight books, in my mind… and the Day Three epigraphs are from the Sleepless! They’re such a mysterious (and honestly kinda threatening) group, lurking in the shadows. Brandon must have some fun plans for them in the future.
P: It’s always fun spotting one of those little critters!
L: Ooooh, the Sleepless! (The creepy cremling-swarm people, for those who may not remember.) I’d been wondering who the epigraph was from this time around. We didn’t get epigraphs for the beta read, so this is all new for me.
P: The epigraphs in Day 1 were some of the most interesting to me. Trying to figure out who was writing them during the preview chapter releases was a great fun since, as you said Lyndsey, we didn’t get to see them during the beta.
D: It has definitely been an interesting experience, reading the beta draft first (out of order, with no interludes or epigraphs) and now finally getting to read the completed version. Reading the epigraphs was the very first thing I did when I got my hands on the book!
L: Don’t get me started on the out-of-order thing. What a dismal experience that was. On a happier note, there’s a fair bit about Nightblood in chapter 35, which must be exciting. Anytime there’s a major Cosmere cross-over, it’s fun to dig into.
D: Oh, yes. Yes indeed. The Kaladin/Szeth chapters have a nice leavening of outright lore drops, plus a few tidbits that might need a little more digging to unearth.
P: I’m jazzed for Nightblood stuff during this reread. Let’s get to digging!
L: Without further ado, let’s start analyzing, shall we?
Paige’s Commentary
Hey, Sanderfans! My sections are going to take a different approach as we progress with this reread: You don’t need a summary as you’ve already read the book, so rather than summarizing the beat-by-beat action of the chapters each week, I’ll focus more on what’s going on in each respective story arc and discuss that in relation to the characters’ surroundings and other goings on in each chapter. We’re kind of in test mode here so let me know your thoughts!
Adolin arriving in Azimir ahead of his 2,000 elite troops in chapter 34, “For the Good of All Roshar,” marks the real beginning of his glorious arc in Wind and Truth. He’ll spend the subsequent days assisting with the defense of the city from singers and Fused who plan to infiltrate via Shadesmar, using the Azimir Oathgate and aided by the Oathgate spren.
The opening of Adolin’s arc sees him inspecting the defenses and discussing them with Maya; at first he speaks to her out loud while she’s in his head, but then he tries speaking to her with his thoughts and is successful. And so we see another change in their relationship. She’s also a lot more verbal, thanks to the awakening of the tower, it seems. We’ll see how their connection grows, and is tested, in coming chapters.
Adolin is met by Azimir’s Commandant Kushkam, who commands the city’s army and who clearly thinks Adolin is there to take over. This initial resistance shapes Adolin’s arc even further as he denies wanting to take over Azimir’s defense and thinks about his reasons for coming to the city—he pledges to himself to do as his mother had taught him… to fight for something.
His fighting prowess on the Shattered Plains and again in Shadesmar in Rhythm of War aside, Adolin is still often seen as something of a fop, with his fashion sense and taste for elaborate outfits. I mean, he arrives in Azimir wearing a cape with his uniform… Very Lando Calrissian, Highprince Kholin.
But despite all of his battle experience, we rarely get to be in his head while he’s actually fighting. In many ways, he’s been very much a side character up to this point, but in this book, Brandon pushes him to the fore and gives him a great spotlight in Azimir. He’ll deal with Kushkam, with Yanagawn, with the enemy forces… He’s got a lot of great scenes coming up and I can’t wait to discuss them!
Szeth’s arc has already started by the time we see him in chapter 35, “Memories Like Wine.” We’ve seen the budding buddy cop duo start off a little shakily, with Kaladin haltingly trying to make a connection with Szeth, who is patently not interested. He’s there to cleanse Shinovar, whatever that might mean, and that’s his sole focus. So we know his planned arc, but we don’t know exactly what it will entail at this point.
I think it’s appropriate here to point out a notable thought he has as he’s searching for his parents’ homestead as the chapter opens:
The trick was to find the killers among you, those who subtract, and keep them properly contained and channeled.
Szeth thinks he himself needs to be properly contained and channeled. Basically, he thinks he needs to be told what to do. That didn’t work out so well for him when he carried his Oathstone, did it? But this line of thinking really shows us how he could use Dalinar as someone to follow and obey when leveling up in Oathbringer. He doesn’t trust himself (as he’s one who subtracts), so he must follow someone else who can direct his actions.
It seems that Szeth doesn’t exactly know what his quest in Shinovar will entail, and his nameless spren won’t tell him. Part of his arc, then, is to learn what he’s supposed to do to cleanse his homeland, and hope that it won’t involve killing anyone.
Part of his arc will also include, it would seem, repeated attempts by Kaladin to get Szeth to rethink some aspects of how he sees himself. Kaladin wants him to stop punishing himself for things that were out of his control, for instance. Szeth feels that those things should have been under his control and insists he’s still guilty. He’s going to give Kaladin quite the run for his money if Kaladin thinks that his therapy is going to do any good.
We get to see Nightblood talking a lot in this chapter, and it seems as if the sword who only wants to destroy evil is worried about having killed people that weren’t evil. It’s interesting to see Nightblood branching out in his conversations, and we find that he’s spoken to both Syl and Adolin in the past. I almost feel as if the sword is on the verge of having an existential crisis about having killed people so often.
I don’t want to kill, Szeth. It doesn’t feel like me.
Maybe Kaladin can be Nightblood’s therapist, too.
At this early stage of his own arc, Kaladin is trying to figure out how to help Szeth, how to help Ishar… all while not being involved in the fighting of the last days before the contest of champions. Syl is on a similar journey, trying to accept her new role and realize her desire to become a scribe.
Kaladin has tried to encourage Szeth to open up in different ways and tries again, here, by pointing out similarities between them. Szeth rejects the suggestion that they’re the same because Kaladin chose to be a killer, while becoming a killer was forced onto Szeth. And so we see just how difficult Kaladin’s task is going to be in trying to help Szeth, given his mental state. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, after all.
As we head into a flashback, “Correct Answers,” we pick up with young Szeth in the past once again, as he and the other shepherds of the valley are taking refuge at the base of the mountains, hoping to escape the raiders who had appeared that day.
We haven’t gotten more than a quick taste of Szeth’s flashbacks up to this point: He’s 11 years old, just trying to figure out how to determine what is right. At the end of the flashback he makes a conscious, deliberate choice to go find his sheep, Molli, who was missing from their flock. That choice, which is what the Farmer tells him separates people from animals, will set him on a new path.
Lyndsey’s Commentary
It’s pretty obvious that Taln, Herald of War, is here because this chapter has to do with soldiers and defending Azimir. Similarly, Jezrien’s presence can be explained by his protecting and leading attributes. It is also worthwhile to note the beginning of the deterioration of the chapter arches, which continues throughout the novel. What an incredible touch… It was so subtle that I didn’t even notice it during the preview chapters!
This one seems pretty cut and dried: Nale and Jezrien are here to represent their respective Radiants (Szeth and Kaladin).
Interesting choice of Heralds for this Szeth flashback chapter. Battah (Battar) is patron of the Elsecallers. Her attributes are Wise/Careful and her role is Counsellor. The Farmer is acting in this role for Szeth, but what are we to make of the inclusion of Ishi (Ishar), Herald of Luck, patron of the Bondsmiths? His attributes are Pious/Guiding and his role is Priest. Are we already seeing his influence in the background?
I’m including this artwork of the Oathgate Dome, as the layout will become rather important later in the book. As the reread goes on, I plan on adding some sketches to overlay it, in order to help visualize troop placements.
I don’t have much to note here on Colot, save to highlight his appearance as it relates to the beginning of his character arc. We’ve seen Colot before; most notably in Oathbringer, when he’s sent to join Bridge Four. As a lighteyes, Kaladin was initially disinclined to accept him. He is rejected as a Windrunner, but as we see in this book, he eventually finds a calling as one of Adolin’s Unoathed.
Maya
She had been changing quickly, ever since their visit to the tower. A living Urithiru appeared to have invigorated her, and had also somehow strengthened whatever was happening between them.
It’s nice to see an explanation (one might even say a lampshade) from the author as to Maya’s swift “regeneration.” I’m happy to see it, as her quest over the course of this book pays off with high dividends.
Adolin
Okay, first of all, I have to say… Adolin! In the immortal words of Edna Mode, NO CAPES! (But seriously keep wearing that cape, you fabulous fashionista, you.) I’m always happy, as a cosplayer, to see these little touches. They really help us to create more intricate and fun outfits, so thanks for that, Brandon. Adolin’s insistence on being well-dressed and fashionable is a thing I love about him. He’s actively subverting so many of the tropes associated with toxic masculinity, both in our own real-life culture and in Alethi culture. Interested in clothes and fashion? Check. Kind to his subjects and soldiers under his command? Check. Accepting and supportive of neurodivergent personality types, like Renarin and Kaladin? Check. Supportive and trusting of his wife and her wild plans, to the point of stepping back and supporting her decision to put herself in danger as she sees fit? Check.
I’ll be very interested to see if his eventual trauma and disability changes any of this about him, after the time skip.
…he couldn’t help but remember another grand city full of history and beauty. One he’d last seen from its Oathgate platform—witnessing as the palace fell, the walls crumbled, and the people screamed to him for help. He could still hear the soldiers shouting as they carried their wounded to join Adolin…
He’d abandoned his own troops.
[…]
It wasn’t merely victory that Adolin sought here, but redemption as well.
Oh, Adolin. It’s been fascinating to watch his character progression from The Way of Kings onward. The once-simple playboy soldier has gained so much depth and character complexity. Between this deeply felt guilt and his issues with his father, I’d say he now ranks up there with the Main Five in terms of depth.
It was something she’d whispered to him, even as he trained, even as Dalinar insisted Adolin become a soldier. Don’t just fight. Fight for something—something worthy of your heart.
This is probably part of why he and Kaladin get along so well. They have similar worldviews and personalities in this respect. Adolin cares so deeply for those around him, even those whom others might view as “lesser,” which puts him in a very similar boat as Kal.
Szeth
Szeth has always been a deep thinker, as we’re beginning to see in the flashback chapters. He has a tendency to sit and think very hard about societal expectations and how to act, and is uncomfortable with making decisions because he’s afraid of how they’ll be perceived. I wonder if we’re meant to see him as being on the autism spectrum like Renarin is. I don’t have a psychology degree so I’d be disinclined to try to diagnose him (especially without a Word of Brandon to corroborate), but some of his behaviors do seem to trend in that direction, especially in his flashbacks. If anyone would like to weigh in on this in the comments, I’d welcome some discussion on it!
I love that Szeth’s flashback ends with him making a choice that’s completely out of character for him. He does it out of love for Molli, and I’d wager that any of us with a beloved pet would do the same.
“Dancing doesn’t make anything or feed anyone.”
“Ah, you are young yet,” he said, “if you think that to sweeten a person’s life is not a form of feeding them.”
This is a really beautiful way of looking at art and what it can bring to a person’s life: Nourishment of the soul, rather than just nourishment of the body.
Nightblood
I don’t want to kill, Szeth. It doesn’t feel like me.
“Sword-nimi,” Szeth said, “you are, um, a sword.”
Adolin says swords don’t have to kill. They can just be beautiful works of art.
I have to say, Nightblood’s character progression was not something I expected coming into this novel, but I’m here for it. I love to see him questioning his creation and his role in the world, and seeing the beginnings of guilt come into play. When we first met him in Warbreaker, I never imagined he’d be anything other than a fun “thing,” without a varied and deep personality. As usual, Brandon’s thrown those expectations into the blender.
Kal and Syl
We’ve both spent far too much of our lives living for other people.”
“Me for the bridgemen. And you…for me, right?”
She nodded.
[…]
What did Kaladin want that was for him? The same challenge could be given to Syl.
I really love seeing this growth for them both. Living for others can be a good thing when you’re deep in a depressive state; it can help keep suicidal thoughts at bay, to live for something else. But once the curtain of depression begins to recede, you have to find your own path. And it’s fascinating to see both Kaladin and Syl coming at the same problem from different angles. Kaladin obviously was suffering from depression, but Syl? She had based her whole life around Kal out of necessity. He was the thing that drew her from the darkness, and so she clung to him, naturally. He was providing her with the link that led her to her sapience. But now that she’s reached the full depth of her personality, what is her reason for living?
Notes on Fashion
Ah, my favorite Stormlight subject! As a cosplayer of over 20 years and a historical costumer for Renaissance Faires, I adore seeing how Brandon utilizes fashion to broaden his world, and how he pulls inspiration from our own world in order to do so. My focus is primarily in Scottish, Irish, and British historical fashion so I can’t comment with authority on other cultures, but if you have knowledge in that area and would like to chime in in the comments, I’d love to learn more!
Two examples I noted this week—first, from chapter 34:
Their helms were marked with different patterns. Seemed to be family affiliations, judging by how each was different from his neighbor’s. But… knowing the Azish, this could also be a mark of how well they did in specific essays or tests to join the military.
Using patterns of fabric to designate tribes or families is certainly not a new concept, though usually it’s a bit more utilitarian. Tartan in Scotland, for instance, didn’t become markers of clans until the 19th century. Rather, the weavers in certain areas made specific designs, and the people who lived around that weaver all wore that same design, so it was a bit of a misunderstanding that the designs were linked to the clans themselves. (If you’re interested in the history of tartan, you can learn more here.)
I absolutely love the idea that the patterns might be tied to the Azish adherence to paperwork and tests, though. I hope that’s the case, because that would be an amazing bit of worldbuilding!
And then this, from Szeth’s flashback:
The girthy woman was dressed all in color, with a red skirt, blue sash, and yellow blouse. Dark, curly hair up in twin buns on her head, skirt parted at the front to show off another splash of yellow underneath.
I rather like this touch of allowing splashes of color to show through, as this is something that we see quite often in historical European fashion trends (look at the slashes in doublets in Henrician and Elizabethan fashion for a good example of this).
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts and Theories
You thought we were getting juicy lore in those preview chapters, didn’t you? Well buckle up, because there’s so much more to dig into on this reread!
Day Three opens with, of course, a new set of epigraphs:
The time has at last come for our stewardship to end.
Obviously, the passing of the Dawnshard was the first indication that this event was near. However, we find many other signs.
These seem to be written by the Sleepless, given their attitudes in the text that appears on the back cover of each Stormlight book, plus of course the insight we got in Dawnshard.
The Sleepless remain a bit of an enigma in these books. They’re certainly secretive, seem to be quite powerful—or at least quite capable—and have ulterior motives that we cannot yet fathom. They view Roshar through a sort of proprietary lens, and work to prevent the Dawnshards from becoming bigger problems for the Cosmere. But we still don’t know much of anything beyond that. One of them joined the Ghostbloods. There are factions. But what do all of these factions want? Where did they come from?
Hopefully some answers await in the coming epigraphs.
She had been changing quickly, ever since their visit to the tower. A living Urithiru appeared to have invigorated her, and had also somehow strengthened whatever was happening between them. She said the Light of the tower made her feel refreshed, and he felt her in his mind stronger now.
This is a potentially interesting tidbit, looking ahead to the events of Day Ten. Urithiru is still alive, but it’s isolated and locked down. I wonder if this obvious Connection with Maya and the other Unoathed spren will have any effect in the back half of the series.
If a human can’t judge good and evil though, Nightblood said, then how can a sword?
Let’s take a step back here. My job in these read-alongs is to talk about the lore of the magic, the theories, the way Investiture interacts with the story. This is a big character moment for Nightblood, but it’s also an indicator of a larger, magical, universal phenomenon in the Cosmere.
Investiture is the power, the fuel, of the many magics we see throughout the Cosmere. It’s also a potential conglomeration of entities, capable of developing sentience, thought, and volition. Investiture is flavored, and left alone for long enough, and in large enough quantities, it will develop its own personality and intelligence.
We’ve seen the beginnings of this on Sel, with the Dor. We’ve seen it more immediately here on Roshar, with the spren. But Nightblood is something different, right? Nightblood was created, was shaped by the hands and minds of Shashara and Vasher, given a Command and Intent: Destroy Evil.
But guess what? Nightblood has been doing its thing for a long time now. And Nightblood is really Invested. That Investiture has been, in its own way, growing and learning. Developing greater intelligence.
This isn’t just a character growth moment—it’s Sanderson telling us to keep an eye on the evolution of Investiture itself. Things as we know them may not be staying static as we move through hundreds of years into the future of the Cosmere.
See, like I said, Nightblood told them. He’d get along great with Vivenna!
Shipping counts as theorizing, right?
The end, the Wind whispered, blowing in the window. It fears… what could be… the end of all spren…
Upon rereading, these little moments with the Wind take on a much greater sense of doom. Roshar really won’t be the same again after Day Ten. The shape and form of Roshar—physically, cognitively, and spiritually—are fundamentally changed now. What will Shadesmar look like in Book Six?
“Wind, Stone, and Night,” Syl said. “From before humans arrived on Roshar. Few spren remember them, but there are old things here in Shinovar. Older than the gods themselves…”
There was a pretty big change in how we’re supposed to view the Invested Arts of Roshar, and even the gods, in Wind and Truth. For the longest time, it was Voidbinding from Odium, Surgebinding from Honor, and the Old Magic from Cultivation. The Parshendi had their old gods, but those were not these. The Wind, the Night, the Stone all predated the Shattering. Cultivation co-opted the Night to create the Nightwatcher and utilize the Old Magic.
(Which raises an interesting question, given what we know about Shards and Investiture: Why isn’t the color red associated with the Nightwatcher and the Old Magic? Was the Night Cultivation-flavored at the moment of the Shattering, so it was less co-opting/corrupting and more just laying claim to what was already hers?)
There’s not much of note in Szeth’s flashback chapter this week when it comes to Invested Arts, but that’s about to change soon. We have a whole new world opening up to us in Shinovar in the coming chapters.
Fan theories via Social Media
Nothing to see this first week, of course, but leave us lots of comments and theories that we can feature here next week!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media. See you next Monday with our next discussion article on chapters 37 to 39![end-mark]
Greetings and storming salutations, Cosmere Chickens! Welcome to this week’s installment of the Wind and Truth reread and discussion, in which we’ll be visiting Azimir to see how Adolin’s faring with his preparations ahead of the invasion, and also going back in time with Szeth to witness the traumatic event which started him down this path of murder and heartache.
Lyn: As usual, I’m psyched to see more Adolin chapters. The Azimir sections really carried the whole book for me.
Paige: I am here for every Adolin moment. He shot from, “Okay, I like this character now, I’ll grant him best boy status,” to “OMG, when do we get back to an Adolin POV, he’s amazing!” Brandon knocked his story out of the park in this book!
Drew: Meanwhile, I’m over here poring over every single word of these Sleepless epigraphs, again and again…
L: Oh, don’t act like you hate it. We know you’re just lapping up every bit of Sleepless lore you can get ahold of!
P: Sadly, though, we also get to the start of Szeth’s journey to becoming Truthless and the Assassin in White. It saddens me. Seeing him as a joyful little boy dancing to his sister’s flute playing was just lovely and gave me a great feeling of empathy for the adult he’s turned into. Having that backstory sure can change one’s perspective!
D: Szeth’s flashbacks definitely pack an unexpected punch. This week’s is just the tip of the iceberg (and there’s a ton of magic lore and history to unearth in these, too)!
L: Yeah, Szeth’s chapter is rough… Let’s be honest though. This is a Stormlight book. At this point it would be a surprise to have a main character who didn’t have an awful traumatic past. And on that pleasant note…
Since this is a reread (picking up where we left off in our read-along of the early chapters), there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content). And please remember, when posting or commenting about these chapters on social media, follow your platform’s spoiler rules. Your comments here, however, don’t need to be spoiler-tagged, so feel free to comment as you will down below!
Please note: We do ask that you remain cordial to your fellow fans. Discussion and criticism of the work (and this article) are allowed and encouraged, but let’s keep the conversation constructive and be respectful of others, as always. Now, with that out of the way…
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs and Assorted Thoughts
In chapter 37, “People Who Build,” we head back to Azimir where Adolin speaks with Yanagawn. We observe the easy conversation between the two of them; the strategy card game known as towers is brought up, of course, as Adolin is trying to guide the Emperor’s Commandant in how he would defend the Dome. Kushkam argues with him, of course, and realizing he’s embarrassed Kushkam in front of Yanagawn, Adolin apologizes and bows to the Commandant’s expertise. Yanagawn goes ahead with Kushkam’s plan for defense.
This shows a lot of growth on Adolin’s part, I feel. He could have pushed for his plan and, as Yanagawn tells him, the Emperor would have backed him. He could have insisted on having his way, thus demonstrating to Kushkam that he was nothing but an Alethi bully. But Adolin is only there to assist Azir with the defense of its capital city, so he defers to the Commandant. But being as smart as he is, he asks Yanagawn to prepare the defense he wanted, just in case.
Adolin also agrees to teach Yanagawn how to play towers, so that will be something for us to watch going forward.
We meet May Aladar in this chapter; she’s the daughter of Highprince Aladar as well as an expert archer, and one of Adolin’s former love interests… kind of. She’ll be serving as his aide-de-camp and her crew of scribes will assist with messages and more throughout the rest of the book. What’s fun about this scene is that we see more of Maya when she asks Adolin if he’s “a slut” after she finds out he dated a lot before meeting Shallan. I know this language took a lot of people out of the story, and I can understand why, to an extent. We’ve seen Brandon using some modern language, like “awesome,” and even swears like “shit” and “ass.” Given the way it’s used here, in a well-meaning, good-natured way, “slut” shouldn’t have made much of a difference, in my opinion.
Then we see Adolin head off to prepare for battle, which is imminent.
We get another Szeth flashback at the start of chapter 38, “Those Who Subtract,” and here we see young Szeth in his last moments of innocence. Searching for his beloved sheep, he arrives back at his homestead and finds three men drinking his father’s wine and eating… well, eating Molli. Angered, he tells them to leave. They proceed to lecture him drunkenly; reeling, he angrily picks up the rock his mother had dug up, planning to hit the man that stayed behind when the other two stumbled off. Then he stops himself… until the man grabs him by the throat. Then Szeth subtracts for the first time. It’s the act that sets his feet on the path that will take him to the Oathstone and to becoming the Assassin in White, his innocence stripped away in a desperate attempt to survive.
Chapter 39 is titled “Between Two Realms” and here, Adolin is donning his Plate—rather, his armorers are putting it on him. He engages in some administrative maneuvering, putting some of his old fighting comrades to be in charge of troops and reassigning May, his new aide-de-camp, to man the interior wall with her bow and her own troops. With that done, he needs a new new aide-de-camp, to whom he gives a string of orders.
Here we can see Adolin taking the lead in a way he never did on the Shattered Plains. There, he was always following, always in his father’s shadow. Now is his chance to do things his way and not someone else’s. He begins to doubt himself again, thinking how he’s not much compared to a Radiant, but in the end, he buckles down with some help from Maya.
Maya tells Adolin she can see into Shadesmar and that the singer troops have arrived. Adolin has a moment where he thinks how much he hates battle since he and his father and their troops had been abandoned at the Tower. But as we’ll see, he’s still an efficient killing machine. Voidspren emerge from the Oathgate, scouting the terrain and the Azish defenses, then returning to Shadesmar to advise the singers and Fused on their positions… and then the battle is upon them.
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
As usual in the Adolin/Azimir chapters, we see Jezrien (Herald of Kings, patron of the Windrunners) show up in the chapter arch, certainly because Adolin is representing his attributes as a leader. Kalak, patron of the Willshapers (attributes: Resolute/Builder and role: Maker) is probably here because our golden boy is attempting to build a solid defense.
Well, I have to say, the presence of Shalash (Herald of Beauty, patron of the Lightweavers) in this chapter arch is a mystery to me. Ishi seems to show up on most of Szeth’s flashback chapters, most likely because of his influence on the region. But Shalash? I can’t see anything that has to do with art, beauty, or creativity here… anyone have thoughts?
Jezrien’s here again (Adolin, leader, blah blah blah) but this chapter also features Chana, Herald of the Common Man and patron of Dustbringers. Her attributes are Brave/Obedient and her role is Guard. This is an appropriate choice for an Adolin chapter, as he’s orchestrating the defense of Azimir.
Adolin
A great deal of both of these chapters is spent setting up Adolin’s ability to lead. This obviously becomes a major part of his arc, considering the Unoathed. Adolin is an unconventional leader by Alethi standards; he befriends his men, he treats them almost as equals, and he has an uncanny knack for identifying a soldier’s strengths and effectively assigning them to the role/position where those strengths will be most useful. He’s also adept at reading the room when it comes to military commanders; he immediately realizes when he’s crossed a line with Kushkam (and, almost as importantly, why that line was there to begin with) and attempts to remedy it in as subtle a manner as possible. He may think that he’s a subpar commander, but that’s just because he’s humble. In reality, he’s an incredible commander. His view of himself is just colored by what he knows, which is the “normal” Alethi style of command.
“I might not be here,” Adolin said, “if someone hadn’t stood up for me when it wasn’t their fight.
Ah, the influence of the good old Bridgeboy carrying over to other characters! Always nice to see the way that characters can inspire one another to be better people (or inspire them to be worse ones, as we see with Moash).
She’d explained how to isolate his thoughts for privacy, but he saw no reason to do so—and instead felt a little thrill. He knew that even some Radiant bonds didn’t allow the two to read one another’s minds; it was nice to have something that not all of them could do.
One of the aspects of Adolin I enjoy the most is his “everyman” nature. He’s far from an ordinary person, of course, but when surrounded by Radiants on every side, even the extraordinary can seem unremarkable. He joins a long list of characters who serve to show us that a protagonist does not require superpowers to display heroism. (Other examples; Black Widow from The Avengers. Arthur Dent in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Xander from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Almost every Doctor Who companion.) All this said (and the reason for the above quote), I do like that he gets some cool stuff the other characters don’t. While he may not have the awesome abilities of a Radiant, he still gets some of the perks. And, at the end of this book, he gets quite a lot more! Can we really say that the Unoathed are “normal” humans, as of the end of Wind and Truth? I don’t think so. Now if only Adolin himself could realize his own remarkableness!
“Better to be wherever the Kholin is,” Gerenor said, with a wink. “That’s where the fun happens.”
I don’t remember what happens to these guys, but I’m sure it’s a grisly death based purely on this happy-go-lucky introduction on the eve of battle.
Colot
Colot nodded. “It comes around, I guess. Centuries of treating the darkeyes badly; when that turns on its head, it’s hard to complain. No one’s going to weep for me, the poor highborn boy who didn’t get what he wanted.
In a way, I’m glad that Colot is wise enough to see this and doesn’t just play by the usual privileged playbook of “oh, woe is me because I’m not getting as much as I used to.” He recognizes that his lot sucks, but others have had it far worse. Good for him.
Szeth
The drunk man chuckled and picked at a piece of meat, and Szeth knew. He knew. But he didn’t want to accept it.
The death of a beloved pet is bad enough, but to be forced to watch that pet’s killers EATING it? Ugh.
Tell me: if you pay a man to kill, does that make you any less guilty? You subtract, little shepherd. You just do it the cowardly way.”
Way to completely upend a child’s entire worldview, random Shin soldier. Thanks for being a d***. (Granted, he’s right and the way his society treats him isn’t fair either, but still.) In the moment, this doesn’t seem like it affects Szeth all that much. But it clearly lingers in the back of his mind and plays a part in all that is to come.
Until he stopped, gazing at the pathetic man by the trough. A person. A terrible person that Szeth hated, but still. He had never hurt another by intent.
He would not do so today.
The worst part of this whole thing is that Szeth’s first murder was done purely in self-defense. He considers committing an act of violence in retribution for Molli’s murder, but doesn’t carry through until his own life is threatened. Even for pacifistic cultures, you’d think that self-defense would be the notable exception to the rule! And yet, this one act—completely understandable—is the one that drives Szeth onto the road which leads him straight into hell. What a choice for such a young child to have to make: suffer a horrible painful death, or betray his culture’s most holy tradition. Does he realize, in this awful moment in which he acted without thinking, what the repercussions would be? I don’t think so. I think (and the text supports) that he acted on pure instinct, the instinct that underlies almost every decision that a person makes…to SURVIVE.
And having done so, his family and society reviles him.
Culture Note:
Per tradition, they bowed for ten seconds…
This HAS to be a callback to the length of time it takes to summon a Shardblade.
Military Placements:
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
Let’s kick things off with more Sleepless epigraphs, why don’t we?
The impending events in Iri are another sign. The age of transitions has arrived.
These two, simple sentences are packed with information and allure. We know now that “the impending events in Iri” are referring to the migration of the Iriali—along with Demoux, Baon, and Galladon—via perpendicularity. We’ll get more into the details of that particular scene later in the book, but it’s fascinating that the Sleepless knew that perpendicularity was going to open. They’re not the only ones—again, there’s our friends of the Seventeenth Shard—but it adds more weight to the idea of the Sleepless as these all-knowing, all-seeing, vaguely-protective-but-also-super-creepy beings, watching from the shadows. I can’t wait to get more information about them in future Cosmere books.
I believe, sincerely, that the winds blowing in from the future indicate this will be the final confrontation of Honor and Odium.
Nailed it.
“Can you transform all the air inside the control building to bronze?” Adolin asked.
I know this is well into the realm of the theoretical, since the ensuing conversation itself is around theoretical strategies, but it strikes me that it’s strange there’s so much focus on the air inside the control room. As Adolin points out, Oathgates function by swapping the contents of the platforms between locations. A better question to ask, I think, would have been whether the Azish Soulcaster could turn the air around the platform to bronze.
Similarly, Kushkam talks about flooding the control room and turning the water to bronze, but that’s ultimately useless. How about building a temporary retaining room around the platform, filling it with water, and doing the same? So now Odium’s forces transfer through… and then they’re stuck inside a big bronze container, with limited air and no egress. Yeah, they could eventually get out, but buying time is what this is all about. Would have been a much more effective strategy, if a labor-intensive one.
Anyway, enough hypotheticals.
Szeth barely registered the man’s erratic behavior—speaking to nobody. Instead Szeth felt a building rage. A blinding, terrible heat.
Ooookay. So this is an interesting little thing, here. We know now that there never was an Unmade corrupting Shinovar—it was Ishar the whole time—but this reads an awful lot like the Thrill. Maybe Nergaoul was hanging around there… but the scene also implies that this is the result of the Voice (Ishar). Brandon was certainly running some serious misdirection with this whole plotline, making us wonder which Unmade it could be.
Ishar was corrupted a bit himself, having taken up some of Odium’s power from the Well of Control, so the easy way to explain it is just that he took on some elements of multiple different Unmade, Nergaoul included.
Here now, what are you?
This, meanwhile, is a perfectly creepy and foreboding way to end the flashback chapter. The first time through, it provides a clear signpost about which Unmade Shinovar might be dealing with—not all of them are intelligent or talk—but now, reading as Ishar’s voice, the entire context is changed.
In the few moments and encounters with him up till now, Ishar does have an aggressively proprietary attitude. This condescending tone, using “what” instead of “who,” is perfectly in-character. We’ll be watching the coming flashbacks carefully to see if there are any other, maybe newer, insights we can gain into Ishar.
Again, not a ton of magic stuff to dig into in these chapters, since Adolin’s Azimir plotline is so heavily military-focused, pretty much sticks to the established understanding of the Invested Arts, and Adolin’s magical resources are cripplingly limited. Spren scouting isn’t anything new, and he only has one rookie Radiant at his disposal. That will become more relevant later, of course, with some fun story implications to explore… but for now, it’s the calm before the storm.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t caught up yet. See you next Monday with our next discussion article on chapters 40 and 41![end-mark]
Happy Monday Sanderfans, and welcome back to another Wind and Truth reread discussion! This week we’re diving into chapters 40 and 41, jumping back and forth between Szeth POVs as he embarks upon a new pilgrimage, and Adolin’s storyline as he begins the defense of Azimir in earnest.
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content). Be sure to check out the social media section at the end of the article to as we highlight talking points and interesting tidbits we’ve noticed in the comments and elsewhere!
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
Chapter 40 is titled “Stuko Stem” and begins with Szeth, Kaladin, and Syl arriving at the Monastery of Talmut, or Taln as he’s commonly referred to outside of Shinovar. This is where Szeth’s quest really takes shape and comes into focus.
Kaladin and Syl fear that an Unmade has influence over the land after finding farmers hiding in the barracks where soldiers would normally be. The troops have gone north and the farmers insist they must tend the land at night or else it will swallow them up. Kaladin mentions how the Midnight Mother was found in Urithiru and had to be driven out and suggests the same thing may be happening in Shinovar.
Szeth still doesn’t really know exactly what his quest to cleanse his homeland entails and says that perhaps his people themselves must be destroyed, or that they deserve the punishment. When he states that his quest is about this decision, his spren responds positively, saying that Szeth sees and grows.
Szeth also relays to Kaladin and Syl that the Shin always knew that the enemy hadn’t been defeated and that the Heralds were living among them. We learn of the Sacred Truth of the Heralds, which is the knowledge that the enemy would someday return if Talmut broke. Then the Shin would be needed to fight, and they were ready—but when the enemy finally returned, they did not believe it.
As Szeth finds a shaman inside the monastery, one bearing Talmut’s Honorblade, he tells her that Talmut should have his weapon and prepares to fight her. So this is to be Szeth’s pilgrimage, going from monastery to monastery, fighting the shaman and reclaiming Honorblades. So much for being done killing.
We then check in on Adolin as the assault in Azimir begins. The transfers of stormform, direform, and warform Regals happens more quickly than Adolin had anticipated, so he joins the fray and heads to where the singers are trying to punch through the Azish lines, which are holding for the moment. But the soldiers make way for him and he summons Maya immediately, laying into the singers.
Summons Maya immediately. Oh, yeah… I mean, we all know he can at this point, but it’s still super exciting, don’t you think? He won’t be a Radiant, but the bond he’s somehow created with Maya is still amazing in itself and a wholly new development for deadeye spren. We’ll see how that plays out but for now… battle!
There are only two sets of Shardplate in this battle: Adolin’s, and one owned by Yanagawn which will be utilized by Azish soldiers. Adolin will also have a second, of course, so that the Plate doesn’t sit idle while Adolin is resting. With so little Plate available, it’s imperative that it’s in use constantly to shore up the Azish and Alethi defense.
When Heavenly Ones join the battle, Adolin retreats. We learn that Maya can only see in the direction he’s facing, so that’s an interesting tidbit—she can’t see behind him to locate his support squad. As the Heavenly Ones disengage to go after the archers who’ve started harrying them, Adolin’s support squad shows up and he dives back into the fighting.
Even Fused would have a hard time bringing down a Shardbearer with trained support troops to bolster their defense and watch their back. We saw lots of fighting with Shardbearers on the Shattered Plains, but I don’t think we were ever in Adolin’s head while he fought with Plate and Blade. This time around, it’s super interesting to see his thoughts and his reasoning for what he does. This line hit me in the feels:
Each strike felt like a blow in the name of Kholinar, the city he’d lost, the soldiers he’d abandoned.
Fight for something, his mother had taught him. And so Adolin does, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t move me to tears.
We get to learn about a fun (har-har) maneuver the Alethi troops call “the Heavenly One protocols” wherein they douse the Fused with oil and then shoot them with flaming arrows. It’s quite a stunning visual if you take a moment to imagine it, especially with those long garments they like to wear.
Okay, here’s another super cool thing insight into Maya and Adolin’s bond:
Adolin spun toward something he’d barely seen at the corner of his vision. He struck by instinct, and his Blade became longer by a few inches and speared straight through another flying Heavenly One—this one not on fire—her lance scraping across his armor and deflecting off.
MAYA GREW LONGER! It excites me very much that she’s behaving as Syl would do and changing mid-fight in response to what Adolin needs. Super cool, right? I mean, Adolin won’t be a Radiant, but as Unoathed, he and Maya are pretty badass, I think.
Before the end of the chapter, Adolin is set upon by another Fused—it’s none other than Abidi the Monarch, come for revenge.
Chapter 41 is “Skybreaker,” and we see Szeth battle the shaman Rit-daughter-Clutio. His spren confirms that this is his path and when Szeth hints at using both of his surges, he is still not granted use of Division. It irks me that his spren won’t allow him to use a surge which would assist him in his quest, in his fight. It’s like the spren is tying one of Szeth’s hands behind his back. Especially when Rit has use of both Stoneward surges, Cohesion and Tension, which Szeth has never faced (since they didn’t have possession of Talmut’s Blade when Szeth was training in his youth).
Rit is quite skilled; when Szeth whispers that she’s amazing, his spren tells him to destroy her, and so he does, but not easily. He manages to avoid the stone that she manipulates masterfully and is amazed that she hasn’t run out of Stormlight. He thinks of how he could only affect an area a few feet wide when training with the Willshaper Blade. So how is Rit so powerful? Is Ishar somehow affecting this fight? If so, will he be able to offer an advantage to the other shaman that Szeth must face?
At his spren’s instruction, Szeth allows himself to be captured by the stone. He is suffocating before the spren allows him to use Division. Ripping himself from the stone, he skewers Rit with his Blade.
And so he is victorious and acquires Talmut’s Honorblade. He hears what seems to be a whisper from her after she is already dead:
“Your family awaits you, pilgrim.”
That’s interesting. His parents? His sister? Is that who awaits him? Will he have to battle his father, as well, if he even lives? Ishar said Neturo was dead. I know we’ll see him again, but I don’t remember many details… What do you think about this proclamation that his family awaits him, Sanderfans?
Back to Adolin, as Abidi, the Fused, and singers attempt to bring him down. They succeed, but Adolin is able to get back up with the protection of his support squad. Our attention is drawn to a Thaylen in his squad that Adolin doesn’t recognize; we’ll learn later that Adolin had saved his son in Oathbringer, at the battle in Thaylen City. It’s moving that the man is here now to see to Adolin’s support and protection himself.
Then Abidi recognizes Adolin and starts making grand pronouncements about who he is and how he’s going to conquer Azimir. Thanks to this little speech, Adolin has time to get set. He quickly realizes that Abidi’s maces are lined in aluminum, as he’s unable to slice one with his Blade. However, Abidi isn’t flying, so Adolin wonders if he might have nicked his gemheart in Shadesmar. Not that it matters, as Abidi is quite deadly enough without flying. Adolin retreats and Abidi doesn’t follow. They’ll have other chances to face off later on.
When Abidi calls the singers to retreat, they actually go into Shadesmar, likely to revise their assault plan, and Adolin goes to put the next part of his own plans into motion. He needs the Azish and his own troops to be unified and fighting together, so he leaves Maya with his troops to celebrate and seeks out Yanagawn and Kushkam. We’ll see the results of that conversation next week! But for now, Adolin’s first chance to defend the city has been successful.
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Chapter 40 features Talenelat (Talenel, Taln), Herald of War, the patron of the Stonewards. And understandably so, as it’s his monastery Kaladin and Szeth enter first. Taln also might be representing Adolin here, in his attribute of dependability and his role of soldier. Interestingly, we also have Vedeledev (the patron of the Edgedancers) represented. Her attributes are Loving/ Healing and her role is Healer. I’m not entirely sure why she’s here, to be honest…
In chapter 41 we see Nale portrayed twice, Taln once, and Kalak once. It’s a little unusual to have three (or four) heralds portrayed, so this bears noting. Nale is probably here because Szeth is, and because so much Skybreaking is going on. Taln most likely represents Adolin again, in his role as the dependable soldier. And Kalak? Well, Szeth is facing off against a Willshaper, so that tracks.
Szeth
“Or perhaps this punishment is what my people deserve.”
You know… I can’t really blame Szeth for experiencing a little schadenfreude in regards to his people. They did exile him for telling the truth about the Voidbringers, after all, in addition to this whole Unmade business. Still, it’s a bit much to feel any joy over the torture of an entire people, innocents included.
In regards to Szeth’s relationship with his spren, 12124… gotta say, I hate it. 12124 is so manipulative, and poor traumatized Szeth doesn’t realize it. It’s using praise like an abusive partner would, imbuing a false sense of security and love, only to force Szeth to do things that put him in harm’s way. If Szeth could have used his surge of Division at any time in the battle, he could have ended it quicker. But 12124 held him back from using it. We know that this bond isn’t meant to last, as Szeth breaks it at the end of the book, and good for him, but it’s painful to see the beginning of this arc.
Adolin
“Yes, sir!” Kaminah said as he tossed back the spyglass. “Sir? Where will you be waiting for them?”
“Waiting?” Adolin said, pulling on his helmet. Then he threw himself off the balcony.
Yet another example to chalk up on the “Adolin’s the storming best” board. Throughout these two chapters he displays his usual characteristics of martial skill and wisdom in regards to tactics, but what I’d like to take a moment to note is his growing relationship with Maya. They’re working in concert so well, with her pointing out things in his blind spots and morphing her shape to better aid him in battle. It’s great to see, and yet another portent of their eventual bond (note the lack of capital B) when they become Unoathed.
Tactics
In these chapters, we see the Azish pull their innermost ring of soldiers back to create a thicker line of defense as the Singer forces begin spilling out of the gate. Several Heavenly Ones and Direforms join the fray, and Adolin jumps in to square off against them, ordering the archers to fire from the outskirts.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts and Theories
You know the deal by now. It’s time to check in with the Sleepless.
The Heralds are essentially no more. They are rejected by their Blades.
It’s easy to read this and go “Oh yep, makes sense” and move right on by. I did so the first time I read the epigraphs. But on a reread (when I’m not blazing through all the epigraphs in one go, since my first time reading Wind and Truth didn’t include them) this gave me pause. “The Heralds are no more”—sure, that makes sense. They’ve been slacking for millennia at this point, insane and ineffective. Only Nale and Ishar have their Honorblades.
But what’s up with “They are rejected by their Blades”???? Is this just the Sleepless being dramatic, or is there actually some metaphysical interaction at work here? Are Ishar and Nale not getting the full use of their Honorblades? Is this a result of Honor’s growing independence (and recalcitrance)? It would be fascinating to find out that the reason Nale bonded a highspren and seems to mostly use his sprenblade, rather than the Honorblade, is because of the fallout post-Aharietiam and the Honorblade becoming more difficult to work with after the death of Tanavast.
And then there’s this doozy:
We must travel to the Well of Control, within the shroud of the fragments of the dead moon.
That dang fourth moon, huh?
Obviously “Well of Control” refers to Odium’s perpendicularity (well, now it’s Retribution’s) but the dead moon… This feels like the sort of mystery that’s going to torment Cosmere theorists until late in this series. Let’s be honest: Who actually expects Brandon to explain that mystery right away in Book Six? I sure don’t.
But it’s a tantalizing mystery for more reasons than just that. The three moons of Roshar are so clearly symbolically tied to the three Shards in residence—violet Salas for Odium, blue Nomon for Honor, and green Mishim for Cultivation.
This fourth moon crashed into Roshar before the arrival of Honor and Cultivation. Does that mean it crashed before the Shattering? Maybe soon afterward, or even at the moment of Adonalsium’s demise?
The Rosharan system was constructed in a deliberate manner by Adonalsium for reasons that remain shrouded. Did Adonalsium know of the eventual Shattering and custom-make a system for those three Shards? Perhaps it was an imperfect vision of the future, and a fourth Shard was supposed to join them but didn’t, and the moon crashed when that fate was sealed?
Or maybe the moon was Connected directly to Adonalsium, and thus found its ruin at the moment of the Shattering…
There are so many wild possibilities at work here. Do you have a pet theory? Share it in the comments!
“All this time the Shin knew that the enemy hadn’t been defeated? That the Heralds were among us?”
This is played as a pretty big revelation, but I have a hard time grappling with it. At the scale we’re talking about—millions of Shin, if not tens of millions, over a span of 4500 years—it seems absolutely unbelievable that this information never got out into the wider world of Roshar. It makes me wonder if Ishar (or more probably Nale, given his whole Law thing) was taking an active hand in suppressing the information outside of Shinovar. I could see them keeping an eye on any known subversives who didn’t toe the party/religion line and stepping in to silence them if they looked like they might be spreading the knowledge east of the mountains.
A Stoneward would have two Surges, and he’d never faced this combination before. […] The flowing control of stone echoed a Willshaper, mixed with some limited access to the strange abilities of a Bondsmith.
While fan reception to the Pokémon Gym Leader-style Shinovar sequence has been mixed, I think we can all agree that this first duel, at least, is cool as hell. As Szeth points out, the Stoneward Honorblade has been lost for 4500 years, so he’s unfamiliar with the particular interplay between Cohesion and Tension. It’s a pretty darn awesome fight, though I admit I’m left a little wanting in terms of range of abilities.
We mostly see the Willshaper/stoneshaping stuff going on here, which is visually very interesting, but I don’t see much in this duel that could speak to the unique resonance between Cohesion and Tension. It feels like Brandon is really trying to save some of this stuff for some big set pieces in the back half of the series… and yes, we’ll talk about this again later, when we get to THAT Taln scene.
That said, Szeth finally unlocks Division here. Whooo boy, was that a good moment.
He set the very air alight as he moved.
Talk about visually interesting. There are a handful of moments in this book that stand out to me as things where Brandon had a very clear mental image of what it’d look like on the big screen; this is one of them.
He stumped back then, as the body disintegrated. Becoming black smoke, leaving only empty clothing behind.
This phenomenon was a great mystery the first time through, wondering what the heck was up with the Stone Shamans and which Unmade was at work in Shinovar. With the knowledge of a reread, we know that they’re a sort of homemade Fused, created by Ishar, allowing for rebirth and construction of new bodies. It’s another great visual, and creepy to consider. Cognitive Shadows all have various issues with their minds—whether it’s the long abrasion of time eroding their sanity, their need for memory storage, or the amnesia of the Returned—but for some reason this instance of it strikes me as more aggressively damaging. Rit can’t have been a Cognitive Shadow for very long, but she seems almost unhinged in the way she speaks to Szeth, ignoring some things he says, becoming incensed at others, and abruptly changing the subject when it suits her whims.
As usual, there isn’t much to say about Adolin’s sequences, at least from a theory or magic angle. We do get this, about Abidi’s inability to fly:
A crack can interfere with their powers. Normally they die and are reborn.
The Fused are a handful, if limited by a few different factors. Being able to crack a gemheart and remove their Surgebinding seems like a relatively minor thing, but maybe there’s a route forward, with better technology in Roshar’s future, to use sound waves to do so. That would be a neat new weapon to emerge from Urithiru with, maybe fifteen or twenty years down the line.
Anyway, that’s my cue to wrap things up. Lots of interesting possibilities in these two chapters, including one of the biggest new Cosmere mysteries for us to gnaw on over the next decade as we wait for more from Roshar!
In Closing:
Paige: I have to crow again about Adolin’s and Maya’s bond. While it’s not a Radiant bond, it does allow him to summon her instantly and to change her length, and I bet her shape, if Adolin wished it. I am very excited to see how they’re working together so far in this book! Of course, we know Maya will leave on her quest, but for now, I’m loving their dynamic.
Drew: You and Lyn are having your fun with the non-Radiant duo in Azimir, but I’m never going to shut up about these Sleepless epigraphs. The fourth moon! And how about Division in action!
Lyn: I’m glad one of us had a ton to chew over in these chapters, because with all that action happening, we didn’t have much room for fun character moments! But that’s okay, because there were some great tactics going on, and as Paige mentioned, the Adolin/Maya dynamic is just so great.
D: Yeah… This book has a lot of these action-heavy sequences. Some of them have plenty to dig into, but sometimes Brandon just wants to write his Hollywood-blockbuster moments where we get to sit back and enjoy the ride!
Fan Theories and Discussion Highlights:
L: In last week’s comments, RogerPavelle politely disagreed with me on Adolin’s motivations. I said that I thought he was humble, while Roger thinks he suffers from an inferiority complex. Thanks for the great insight, Roger! I really sat here and thought this one over, and I think you’re right. Adolin does absolutely have a lot of inferiority complex going on, and who can blame him, when you look at his father and all the Radiants surrounding him, as you pointed out? My first inclination was to say that his mom also taught him to be humble, but we don’t see much of that in him in The Way of Kings (before everyone around him starts to become super-powered and his dad’s secrets come out), do we? He’s never full of himself, but he is very self-assured. So I grant you this point, 100%.
Roger also asks this excellent question, which I’ll serve over to you, Drew, to answer:
BTW, do we know how specific numbers became associated with each Shard? Was it the order in which the Shard was taken up or something else entirely?
D: We don’t! Shard numerology has been a big topic of theories over the years, though. We do know that while many Shards have an affinity for a certain number or other, not all do. What makes that the case remains shrouded in mystery; I suspect we’ll have to wait until the Dragonsteel trilogy to get a solid answer.
L: I’d also like to draw some attention to this cool post over on Reddit discussing the women’s script. If you’re interested in languages and how they work, you might find it fascinating. (I sure did!)
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t finished the book yet.
Next Monday we’re off due to the holiday weekend here in the U.S, but we’ll be back on Monday, February 24th with our discussion of chapter 42 and interludes 5 and 6![end-mark]
Happy Reread Monday, Cosmere Chickens! We’ve got a doozy for you this week, as we reach the end of Day 3 and dive into a couple of lore-heavy interludes that are sure to set Cosmere Scholars drooling. First, we catch up with Szeth and Kaladin in the aftermath of Szeth’s victory over his first shaman, and then follow Adolin as he celebrates with his men and comes to an understanding with Azish Commandant Kushkam. In the interludes, we see the long-awaited return of Axies the Collector and get another glimpse into the mind of Taravangian.
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
Chapter 42 is titled “Celebrations,” and we pick up where we left off when Szeth turned the Stoneward Honorbearer Rit to dust. Yes, his spren has finally allowed him to use Division and says he can continue to do so until told otherwise. And here Szeth touches on what happened when Taln returned from Braize—or rather what happened to his Blade. As we all remember from Words of Radiance, the Blade that Taln returned with was replaced with another. Szeth now surmises that his people must have retrieved it. He wonders how they found Taln (or Talmut, as they call him) so quickly, but we get no further insight there.
And here Szeth wonders if he must go on a full pilgrimage of Truth and visit each monastery in turn. He explains to Kaladin what this pilgrimage entailed when he was a youth, when he won Jezrien’s Blade before being exiled. Kaladin relays Ishar’s message about how he’d speak to Kaladin once Szeth’s pilgrimage was finished.
So now we expect to follow Szeth, with Kaladin and Syl in tow, as he completes the abbreviated pilgrimage of his youth and obtains all of the honorblades. Well, all but Jezrien’s, held by Moash, and Nale’s, held by the Herald himself. Kaladin balks, and I love how Szeth knows that Kaladin doesn’t like the fact that they’re being manipulated, but Szeth points out that they need to visit at least one more monastery to investigate and either the shaman would speak to him or attack him. Kaladin reluctantly agrees that it’s the best way forward, and Szeth thinks that perhaps Kaladin’s smarts are what make him so annoying. These two truly crack me up.
Next, we pop over to Azimir to check in on Adolin and the singer assault. The first day has been a good one for the Azish and the Alethi. The singers retreated and Maya wants to be a part of the celebration, so Adolin summons the Blade and passes it to his troops, allowing them the honor of holding her, beginning with the new Thaylen in his personal guard. Colot asks if Adolin is worried that someone might steal the Blade, but Adolin isn’t. He tells him that “they’re our best,” and then adds “You are our best, my friend.” Colot has a moment of remembered frustration, it seems, and says that he’s glad that someone wants him; Adolin comforts him, reassuring him that the Windrunners will regret not having him someday.
Then Adolin asks about the Thaylen man; Colot says he doesn’t speak Alethi but that he seems specifically loyal to Adolin. Of course, as will be revealed soon, we know that the man’s son was saved by Adolin during the battle in Thaylen City in Oathbringer, and the soldier, Hmask, joined Adolin’s mission out of gratitude. Adolin wants him in a Cobalt Guard uniform after seeing the way he faced off with a Heavenly One. Colot mentions that once the fighting started, Yanagawn refused to move to safety; he also thinks Kushkam is livid about how things played out, so Adolin sends Colot off to check on Maya and goes to soothe Kushkam’s ruffled feathers.
Adolin interrupts Kushkam right in the middle of the Commandant’s shameful admission that his tactics were faulty, cutting him off to express his admiration for the Azish military and their impressive ability to pivot in the midst of battle. He talks about how Kushkam adapted to meeting the Regals and Fused and held the line. A sincerityspren appears beside him as he tells Yanagawn that it’s an honor to serve with Kushkam and his troops.
That done, they go on to discuss how the singers might try to wear down the coalition forces with constant assaults. They certainly have the troop numbers to do it. He and Kushkam agree to talk about how to counter that approach but before they do…
“I’ll be camping out here on this square, near where my men are barracked. Need to be close, as the enemy will attack at night to test us. Want to do the same?”
Yanagawn blinked. “You’re… inviting me to a campout?”
“We call them bivouacs in the military,” Adolin replied with a grin.
And this is how Adolin comes to teach Yawnagan how to play towers in the coming chapters. And continue with sword lessons. And give Yanagawn some time in Shardplate, to learn how to move in it. This is one of my very favorites arcs in this book and I am excited to read through it again with you!
Noura, of course, is not a fan of this plan, but Adolin out-talks her and Yanagawn settles it by agreeing to the campout.
Then, Adolin speaks privately with Kushkam, who wants to know what he did wrong. Adolin simply points out that a few soldiers were never going to be a match for the same number of Regals and Fused. They discuss how to frame the defense going forward. The commandant apologizes to Adolin for being intimidated and Adolin apologizes to him for putting him on the spot… and Kushkam introduces himself as Zarb. They shake hands, Zarb invites Adolin to dinner, and all is well.
Except… Adolin knows how brutal the coming days will be, as they wait for the rest of the armies to arrive (which we know isn’t going to happen). Maya reaches out mentally and remarks that he feels sad, uncertain. They chat a bit and again we see that Adolin feels that, while he used to be the best, he’s no longer enough. As in, he’s not Radiant. We’ll talk more about Unoathed and promises over Oaths later, though… for now I just want to note how thoroughly I enjoy Maya and Adolin chatting like they do.
Adolin brings up the spren who departed Lasting Integrity at the same time their party was leaving, and Maya offers to go talk to them—only he’s thinking of honorspren and she’s thinking of deadeyes. Adolin decides that he doesn’t necessarily need a Blade and that he could utilize one of Azimir’s Shardhammers in battle while Maya goes to talk to the honorspren. Instead of asking her to go or asking her to stay, he says he’ll support whatever decision she makes. And of course, she decides to go.
…But the chapter’s not over yet! Back to Shinovar we go, as Kaladin wonders about the Stoneward’s immense strength, and what was powering the shaman in her battle with Szeth. As Kaladin marvels at the powers she had wielded, Nightblood perks up and insists that he could do better than Taln’s Honorblade. Little foreshadowing there, hmm? I love when Nightblood joins the conversation, especially when Syl is around!
They return to the encampment below the monastery to find thousands of people emerging from barracks, looking as if they’d just woken up, reverently thanking Szeth. He’s nearly overwhelmed by the attention until Kaladin calms him. Szeth allows the people to thank him but he doesn’t know how to respond and Kaladin tells him that the gratitude, the joy of the people, is what they fight for. Not laws, not Ideals, but the people.
Then the Wind speaks to Kaladin, assuring him that what he’s doing here is far more important than what his friends fight for. And so they head toward the Willshaper monastery, and Day Three comes to a close.
Interlude 5 follows Baxil, strolling through Azimir, wrapped head to toe in crimson cloths. He visits a tea shop and finds Axies the Collector who calls him “Crimson Memory.” We learn that he can’t physically taste tea, but with effort, and with many people around him thinking about it, he can summon up the taste, the concept of the tea. He mentions a blessing and a curse.
Axies provides a bundle of bandages, “red wraps prepared in the most special of ways, as Baxil needed.” He pays Axies with a spren in a gemstone Then Axies tells Baxil that his old employer is in Azimir—and, of course, he means Shalash. Baxil thinks about visiting her but decides not to, not in his current state. He tells Axies to get out of the city, though he knows Axies won’t leave, and he departs to continue on his quest.
Interlude 6 is a Taravagian interlude titled “The Weight of Information.” The god divided has decided to let each side rule in turn; first, we see him use intellect. He feels that he’s more balanced as a god when letting each side take turns. He reflects on how Cultivation wanted him to end the fighting early, but decides it’s not in his best interest. He knows that Odium would prefer Ba-Ado-Mishram over him and that he must be cautious, so that the power doesn’t leave him as it left Rayse. I find this extremely interesting: Why would the power of Odium prefer Mishram?
Taravangian understands that while Odium is all about passion, it’s not necessarily interested in more subtle emotions.
The passion of fiery lust, yes. But genuine love? Things such as love and contentment felt like the purview of other gods.
Odium liked anger most of all, Taravangian learns. He takes it all in and learns from it, something that the power either can’t or won’t do. His ultimate conquest is the cosmere but he can withstand being trapped on Roshar for a time. In wondering how to prepare, he realizes he needs a command staff. He thinks of El, in particular.
Then he appears at Kharbranth to speak with Dova, or Battah the Herald, the corrupt Herald who was a member of the Diagram. He asks her about the art of using crystal spikes to restore sight, and how it would allow one to see Investiture. This is something that will be used for Moash, of course. But Battah knows that Taravangian just wants to bring her into his new organization and as long as the pay is good, this corrupt Herald is in.
He tells her that he can get her a planet eventually, a small one, and promises he’ll get her off Roshar so that she can visit it. Smiling, she rises to gather her things.
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Ooooh, another three-herald arch for chapter 42! This week we’ve got Nale, Jezrien, and Vedeledev, patron of the Edgedancers.
Nale and Jezrien could be indicative of Szeth and Kaladin (respectively), and Vedeledev for Maya, who chooses to go off to find the other deadeye spren. But if we were to attempt to dig a little deeper…
Vedel is also the Herald of loving and healing. We’re seeing some healing here in Szeth, who is experiencing gratitude from his people for the first time. We’re also seeing Adolin showing love and companionship towards his men, by allowing them to pass around Maya in celebration. Szeth and Adolin are both protecting their people (Jezrien), and Adolin is being quite confident as usual (Nale).
The Baxil interlude has three as well: Shalash times two, Chana, and Palah. Shalash tracks, as Baxil traveled with Ash for a while and is infatuated with her. I think a case could be made for Chana portraying her attribute of being of the common man here, as Baxil—while an extraordinary being—was once pretty ordinary. I can’t think of any other reason for her to be here; no one is being particularly brave or obedient, nor are either of our characters guarding anything. Well… Maybe Axies is guarding knowledge, but that’s a stretch. Palah makes perfect sense at least, as her attributes are primarily about learning. Axies is nothing if not the quintessential scholar!
Taravangian/Odium (just a reminder, here, that I like to call him Toadium and will henceforth refer to him as such) has two Heralds portrayed on his chapter arch; Battah, patron of the Elsecallers (wise/careful/the counselor) and Vedel, patron of the Edgedancers (loving/healing). This is the perfect representation of his dual nature. His constant battle of keeping the balance between emotion and intelligence is on full display in this interlude in particular. ALSO, Battah physically shows up in this chapter.
Szeth
Szeth shows a lot of growth in this chapter. We start off with him admitting to Kaladin that he was exiled at the end of his pilgrimage, then we see him reacting to his peoples’ gratitude:
Their postures were universally reverent, but his eyes began to dart from side to side. He was feeling boxed in. […] Kaladin didn’t understand the words, but he’d seen those postures before, those eyes holding back tears. He’d been there. Szeth, it appeared, never had. He took the kindness with an air of bemusement.
Poor Szeth doesn’t feel like he deserves their praise. He points out that his culture was demonizing him for so long for being “one who subtracts” that he’s completely internalized that negativity. He hates himself just as much as his people once hated him, so their gratitude and love is a foreign concept. He doesn’t know how to respond, and it makes him feel uncomfortable. By the end of the chapter, however, it does begin to affect him positively.
As he turned to Kaladin and Syl at the end, he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “I… I do not know how to respond. Please forgive me.”
Szeth’s healing is depicted as a very gradual process, as it should be. Decades of trauma cannot be wiped clean in a matter of a couple days. But Kaladin’s determined to keep trying, and by the end of the book, we do see Szeth beginning to accept that he can love himself.
Adolin
His father would have given a fine speech. Adolin ripped his helmet off, held it high in one hand with his Shardblade in the other, and bellowed a vibrant yell of triumph, exploding with gloryspren. His soldiers shouted their enthusiasm in a roar, raising weapons.
Yet another example of the intrinsic difference between Dalinar and his son. Neither approach is wrong, they just have different ways of inspiring the men they lead. I would say that Adolin’s method is more personable and puts him closer to the men, whereas Dalinar’s speeches elevate him and keep him distant while still inspiring. It’s the difference between leading your men into battle yourself versus directing them from a high vantage point. Neither approach is wrong; they each have their own inherent flaws and benefits. And Adolin, with all his daddy issues, is happy to be the opposite of his father in this respect. I don’t really think that he does it specifically to put himself at odds with Dalinar (because he’s always acted this way with his men even before his troubles with his dad), but did he always do it subconsciously? Most likely. And now he’s making those choices deliberately, recognizing how they set him apart.
Morale wasn’t just about official commendations or even about increased rations or pay after a victory. It was about the soldiers knowing that Adolin personally was proud of them.
I think the biggest downside to Adolin’s approach is that, should he fall, the men’s loyalty won’t necessarily transfer to the next man in command. By fostering such a close personal connection with them, he inspires their unwavering loyalty to HIM, not to the command structure as a whole. Dalinar’s approach creates a bit of distance between him and the men, inspiring their loyalty to the army and not just to the king himself.
“You were right and he was wrong.”
“And on other battlefields, I’ve been wrong,” Adolin said. “Look, Kushkam isn’t used to how Fused and Regals fight, and that got us into trouble today. But he adapted.
Another wonderful example of being a good leader here: lifting up your colleagues and helping them to succeed, in the hopes that they do the same for you. The rising tide lifts all ships. Competition can spur people to be better, but within a military context it can also breed discontent, as we saw with Sadeas.
“I’m nothing more than a man with a sword and armor. That used to be enough.” Once, he’d been the best. Now that didn’t matter.
Here we see again poor Adolin’s inferiority complex rearing its ugly head. This is something that he and Colot share, though in slightly different contexts. Colot tried to become a Radiant and was rejected; Adolin never even made it that far.
“You are our best, my friend. You executed those maneuvers perfectly.”
“Well, I’m glad someone wants me,” he said.
“Those Windrunners will someday realize what they missed out on,” Adolin said…
I’m glad to see them bonding over this. At least they each have someone who understands and can commiserate about it. And, as we see by the end, Colot and Adolin both become something incredible in their own right—the Unoathed. In a world when the Radiants have lost their Stormlight, the Unoathed will be the superhuman ones now.
How many men had given up their Shardblade like that? […] All of the Radiants did it once, he thought. And there was one other.My father. Adolin considered that, filled with complex emotions…
Adolin doesn’t go into detail about those complex emotions, but he doesn’t need to. We know what they are. He used to respect and idolize his father for those noble ideals, and he still recognizes Dalinar’s noble actions as such. But that doesn’t change the fact that his father killed his mother (accidentally, but still). It doesn’t change the fact that Dalinar practically ignored him in an alcoholic haze for years. It doesn’t change the fact that Dalinar seems to value everyone else more than his own sons. And therein lies the complexity.
Baxil
I’m leaving all the lore-stuff to Drew on this one, but BOY is Baxil a fascinating mystery on a whole bunch of levels! It’s hard to say much about his character arc, as we didn’t see much of him the last time. He was helping Shalash to destroy artwork waaaaaay back in The Way of Kings, and had mentioned something about wanting to go to the Nightwatcher to gain confidence. It’s pretty clear that he did get to her, but did his boon give him what he wanted? No way to tell so far, and this is the last we see of him in this book.
Taravangian
The more interludes we get from Taravangian’s POV, the more fascinating I find him as a character. He’s one of the most multi-faceted villains I’ve ever come across in fantasy. In this interlude, we see him giving in to his intellectual side, while still understanding that emotion is integral to logic. When he was mortal, he had no such compunctions and allowed his intellect to override his moral compass. He is wholly devoted to his goal, which is to use this newfound power he’s acquired to save as many as possible. However…
Is he controlling the power, or is it controlling him? Drew and I will discuss this a bit more in depth in the Odium section below.
Dova/Battah
Each of these Heralds was suffering under a cloud of mind and soul, and this was how hers manifested. The wise counselor, known for her wisdom for millennia, had become corrupt.
“I can likely get you a planet eventually. A small one, at least. I’ll try to find a way to get you off Roshar to visit it.” She hesitated, her eyes widening, inspecting him to see if he was serious.
Tactics and Battlefields
A note: I’ve finally figured out a method to more easily draw on the maps (thanks, trusty new iPad!) so I won’t have to tediously draw arrows and manipulate them in Photoshop anymore! I’m also including the map of Shinovar from later chapters, with arrows to show Kaladin and Szeth’s route.
We form solid pike walls farther back, and force them to come to us—make them spread their Regals out, so they can’t pit a hundred of them against a hundred humans. They have to instead pit a hundred Regals plus nine hundred regular soldiers against a thousand of mine.”
“Exactly,” Adolin said. “Plus, you will have archer support, and the time—during their advance—to position our Shardbearers wherever the enemy sends most of their elite troops. And anything that slows their advance gives us more time to try to bring Regals down from a distance.”
“Hence the suggestion that we throw furniture in the way,” Kushkam said.”
A historical note on “pike walls.” I can’t find any extant references to pike walls, but I can find a lot of instances of pike SQUARES and SHIELD walls. Pikemen were usually situated in 10 x 10 squares, but it looks like Sanderson is combining the two tactics into one. As such, I’ll be portraying the pike walls as concentric circles within the dome.
Though it should have been all emotions—and his predecessor had insisted that was his purview—the power did not like subtle emotions. It liked loud ones. The passion of fiery lust, yes. But genuine love? Things such as love and contentment felt like the purview of other gods. They had taken some slices of its…portfolio, so to speak, during the Shattering.
L: Interesting that Odium only represents strong emotion and not the more subtle ones. Is there one Shard in particular which controls such emotions, Drew? Or do you think those emotions are split between the other Shards?
D: It does seem like Mercy and Devotion, at least, would cover a range of other emotions. Perhaps Valor as well?
P: As long as they’re strong emotions, I think Odium is down. When people in the books would say things about passions, I always took it to mean any emotions but it seems that Odium just likes the heavy-duty stuff.
D: Odium has been on board with lying where it suits him. This has always struck me as one area where he wants people to think he has more of a purview than he really does.
So, carefully, he fed emotion to the power. He promised it conquests in the sky, worlds to bend to their will—passion, fury, anger, and pain. All the most powerful emotions that it desired. It fed on that, simmering, while he considered his plans.
L: Who’s really controlling who here? Clearly Taravangian feels as if he’s in control, but he’s dealing with a piece of a god. I have to wonder if he’s not being misled in turn.
P: I feel that Taravangian is underestimating Odium here. He seems to be treating it too… simply, I guess. I mean, it’s a freaking Shard. And as much as Taravangian thinks he’s got the upper hand here, he is a baby god and he should use his intellect a bit more wisely.
D: Yeah, this is a pretty crazy new look at how Shards work. More to come in my section below…
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
Unfortunately, we only have one more Sleepless epigraph. And it’s fairly straightforward:
There, we will find our destiny. We cannot stop him from destroying us. It is time.
The Sleepless are exiting stage right because they know what bad things Taravangian can do to them. Fair enough, I suppose. They seem to have a finger on the pulse of the deeper workings of the Cosmere, and they certainly wouldn’t want to be a well of information for Taravangian to plumb while he’s busy roasting cremling legs.
I have a bit more to say about the Sleepless and their exodus from Roshar, but I’ll save that for a later chapter (interlude). More to come!
“How did they find him so quickly? Why leave him with a different Blade as a ruse?”
Good questions, Szeth. In fact, I’m not sure either of these got answered in a satisfactory fashion (or even at all). I suppose we can assume that Ishar directed them to Taln, via whatever Connection the Heralds share. It would make sense that he might have an even more direct Connection, as the facilitator of the Oathpact and the Bondsmith of the group, though we know he doesn’t have the Connection with Taln that he does with the others, through holding some of their torment.
But leaving the dead Shardblade in its place? That is a mystery. The simplest answer is that they just don’t want anyone going hunting for a missing Honorblade, though why they’d worry about it overmuch is beyond me. It’s not like Stone Shamanism is widespread knowledge. It almost feels to me more like a red herring that Brandon put in to make us wonder about possible culprits and not immediately think “Oh, well obviously the Stone Shamans took it,” rather than provide some real in-world thread to pick at.
You may use the power until I tell you otherwise.
The relationship between Skybreaker and highspren really is strange. I like how, the more we discover about each Order, the more we realize that there isn’t some shared “normal” for the Knights Radiant. Each Order seems to have some notable element of the bond between Knight and spren, of the progression through Ideals, that stands unique. For the Lightweavers, it’s Truths instead of Oaths. For the Bondsmiths, it’s a limited number of supercharged spren. For the Skybreakers, it’s spren who view themselves as knights and act as overt benefactors for their Radiants.
There’s already unique strangeness to Lift as an Edgedancer, and our principle Truthwatcher POV is bonded to an “Enlightened” spren. I wonder what weirdness awaits us with the Dustbringers, the Elsecallers, the Stonewards?
“Name is Hmask. He’s got skill, so I used him to plug a hole in your personal guard. He seems specifically loyal to you for some reason, but he doesn’t speak a lick of Alethi so I haven’t been able to ask.”
Back to Adolin and Azimir, we have another mystery: Hmask. Later in the book, it’s explained that Adolin saved Hmask’s son during the Battle of Thaylen Field, and he has dedicated himself to protecting Adolin as a result.
But look, who here actually buys that story on its face? This guy is suspicious, and that explanation is suspiciously simple. He’s some random Thaylen dude who also happens to be martially talented? During my first read-through of Wind and Truth, I was certain Hmask was actually a Ghostblood agent, placed close to Adolin as insurance against Shallan’s indiscretions.
And you know what? I still think that. I wonder if Hmask is the proverbial gun hanging above the mantel, long eyebrows dangling over the fireplace. Shallan killed Mraize and Iyatil before they could communicate with the Physical Realm and the rest of the Ghostbloods. The Rosharan branch is almost surely in a great deal of turmoil after losing their foremost leaders, but once they get their business back in order? Maybe Hmask gets an order to be a knife in the dark.
Or maybe he doesn’t, and the Ghostbloods simply assume that Mraize and Iyatil were lost in the Spiritual Realm. Maybe Hmask is uncovered some other way, and a new wrinkle is added to the Shallan-Ghostblood relationship.
I could learn that, the sword said.
So yeah. Nightblood lays the first stepping stones for becoming even more terrifying. We’ll talk more later about its on-page feats when we get further into the book, but this one line has a whole lot of implication buried within it. If Nightblood can learn to grant Surges from the Honorblades—not even really sapient beings of Investiture like spren—what can it learn from actual spren? From seons? From… well, any Invested being?
Is Nightblood, like the fabled Moon Scepter in The Emperor’s Soul, another Investiture Rosetta Stone? Or is it limited to Rosharan Invested Arts, due to its inspiration? I lean toward the former; after all, it’s just like Brandon to drop a big surprise on us as a way to let our guard down, and then hit us with an even bigger surprise later.
But while we’re leaving behind our precious Sleepless epigraphs, we at least go out with a bang in the interludes before Day Four. We begin with an old friend: the criminal Baxil.
These days, people could only see Baxil if they were looking for him. And he could only touch them if they were trying to kill him.
Somebody has been to see the Nightwatcher.
This boon makes sense: Baxil was a thief and crook, so asking to be undetectable is right in line. And in return, it seems the Nightwatcher limited his ability to inflict harm while going unseen. Good trade-off. Very responsible spren, the Nightwatcher.
(Assuming these are gifts of the Nightwatcher and not Cultivation herself, though I lean toward it being the former.)
And he’s meeting another old interlude friend: Axies the Collector! I know at least one person was thrilled to see our blue-skinned buddy show up here (hey, Mark!). They have a short but fascinating interaction, with Baxil providing Axies with a new spren and Axies providing Baxil with some mysterious bandages.
Because maybe that curse isn’t the curse after all. Maybe the inflicting harm part of the arrangement is a standard side effect of the being undetectable boon, and the curse is the lack of a corporeal body, so that he needs “wraps prepared in the most special of ways” just to cling to his existence.
I expect we’ll see more of both Baxil and Axies in the future.
Her name was Ba-Ado-Mishram, and if Taravangian was not cautious, the power might leave him for her, as it had left Rayse for him.
There’s more to explore later, with Honor, but boy did Wind and Truth throw a wrench in our understanding of Shardic mechanics. We’ve seen the phenomenon on Scadrial, with Sazed struggling to interpret the combined Ruin and Preservation as Harmony rather than Discord, but there wasn’t any indication there that the Shard could just up and abandon the Vessel.
Now, Taravangian is openly musing about Odium’s agency as an emotional entity, and its ability to say “nope” and go find somebody new. It sheds new light on Ati’s actions as Ruin, too—he was, according to Hoid, “kindhearted” and took up Ruin to help rein in its potential for destruction… and we all saw how that turned out.
Was Ati perhaps still working against Ruin, even at the end, but just making concessions where necessary to keep his role as Vessel? It would make sense, in fact. We see here in Wind and Truth that Shards can cause some serious destruction in a short amount of time—heck, even in Mistborn, when Vin briefly Ascended and inadvertently ravaged large swaths of Scadrial. The slow-burn death of the world via the ashmounts could be a great stalling tactic on Ati’s part, assuaging the urges of Ruin while limiting the catastrophic fallout.
But one more note on Taravangian and Roshar before I wrap up: Dova is confirmed to be the Herald Battar (aka Battah). Her particular insanity has manifested as an intensely mercenary attitude, the need to accumulate wealth by selling her services. We don’t get to see much more of her in this book, but that’s something I’ll be keeping an eye on when we move into the Voidlight back half of the Stormlight Archive.
This Week’s Highlights:
Lyn: I haven’t seen many new theories I’d like to highlight in the last two weeks, but I did take note of this awesome copy of The Way of Kings, which has been customized by hand-painting the edges!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday for our discussion of chapters 43, 44, and 45![end-mark]
Greetings and salutations, Cosmere Chickens—this week we’re digging into the beginning of Day Four! Dalinar and Navani are continuing on their quest through the Spiritual Realm, and after some time to regroup, so are Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain. Kaladin and Szeth are on a quest as well… a quest of enlightenment and self-awareness! Well… They’re on an actual quest too, but the therapy aspect takes center stage this week. Join us as we delve into the plot, characters, revelations and theories!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
Chapter 43 is titled “The Origin of Songs” and we finally get to the Spiritual Realm story arc! If you recall, Dalinar, Navani, Shallan, Rlain, Renarin, and little Gavinor got sucked into the Spiritual Realm, along with Mraize and Iyatil, when Mraize struck the Perpendicularity with an anti-Light dagger at the end of Part 1. We’ve waited a whole “day,” and now we get to see what has befallen everyone!
Dalinar is floating comfortably in nothingness… unless he opens his eyes; then he sees bits of memory, chaotic and jarring. He thinks to use Wit’s rock to anchor him and demands, then begs, to be able to see, but a voice responds, first telling him that seeing will destroy him and then that it will destroy “us.” Still, he’s pulled—or pulls himself—into a vision where he’s a singer in a small group pursuing chull rustlers. Eventually he feels a tug, and Navani appears. She’s used him as an anchor, just as he used the rock as an anchor. She says she thinks there are others in there with them.
Then a strange current sweeps past them and a voice… more like a chorus of voices, greeting them and noting that they must be there to witness “the arrival.” We’re told that they’re talking to the Wind, only it refers to itself as many instead of one. The Wind that Kaladin speaks to seems to speak as a singular entity. This Wind speaking to Dalinar and Navani talks of seeing the past, the present, and into the Physical Realm… and they tell the Bondsmiths that the soldier and the assassin are where they stand now, but in another time.
Dalinar asks how to get Honor to accept him and is told he can’t persuade it. Then… the arrival.
Thus begins the Bondsmiths’ quest to learn more of their past, and Dalinar’s quest to hopefully take up the shard of Honor. We’ll spend a lot of time with them in the Spiritual Realm and visit many visions, so we’ll get to learn along with them. And isn’t it going to be cool to see the Heralds before they were Heralds?
Chapter 44 is titled “A Semblance of Reality” and begins with Shallan, floating just as Dalinar had been doing. Then a room appears around her and Pattern, Testament, Renarin, and Rlain show up. Renarin explains that Glys created the room from his memories and that they can use it as a staging area until they decide what to do next. Shallan actually apologizes for getting them into this mess; Renarin is quite relaxed about it, as least outwardly. He says that if Mraize is hunting for Mishram, then it’s just as well that they’re in there, too.
Shallan wants to find Dalinar and Navani but Glys and Rlain’s spren both react violently, stating that if they’re seen, they’ll be destroyed. They say that they must go in secret, using illusions to protect them. Renarin wonders if they even need to find Mishram’s prison and says that they could just find Mraize and Iyatil and stop them. Pattern pipes up about how great Shallan is at murder and though she balks, he’s not really wrong. So Renarin and Rlain sit down and concentrate on finding the Bondsmiths while Shallan experiences a moment of hesitation at the thought of killing Mraize and tells Radiant that she may have to step in when the time comes; Radiant replies that’s why she exists.
Looking around at the toys scattered around the room, Shallan, Pattern, and Testament share a touching moment, as the spren speak mournfully of Shallan’s painful childhood; she reassures them that it wasn’t all terrible, and that she’d had some happy times too. Pattern and Testament, squeezing her hand, promise to stay close. Renarin announces that they’ve located Dalinar, and thus the three friends (are they friends?) and the four spren embark on their quest to find Mraize and Iyatil to stop them from finding Mishram’s prison.
Chapter 45 is titled “Self-Mastery and Control” and we’re back with Kaladin, Syl, and Szeth. And Nightblood! Can’t forget about him. Her. It. We follow Kaladin’s POV as they encounter a wall around the town in front of their destination, the Willshaper monastery. As they continue toward the gates, Kaladin engages with Szeth, edging into therapy again. Szeth is afraid that if he allows himself to feel emotion, his anger and passion will rule him. Kaladin thinks that’s partly the fault of the Shin society that punishes a young boy for defending himself. Kaladin speaks about his own struggles, the progress he’s made, and how he’s worked to change his own thinking. Eventually, Szeth asks how he could approach thinking a different way, and isn’t impressed with Kaladin’s explanation of using good thoughts to fight off bad thoughts.
Then Kaladin asks Szeth how he feels and Szeth admits that he feels awful all the time. He asks Kaladin the same and Kaladin honestly says that he feels better lately. Then Szeth reconsiders the strategy of having “warrior thoughts” ready to counter the dark thoughts when they attack. It’s better than outright rejection, I suppose. And so Kaladin begins to chip away at Szeth’s barriers…
We switch to Szeth’s POV now, as his spren interjects, telling him that while it’s good for Szeth to hear the words of the Windrunner, he must not heed them. Sneaksy spren, filling Szeth’s head and directly counteracting the good Kaladin is trying to do.
Both Kal and Szeth had noticed that this settlement didn’t feel corrupt, unlike the first one they’d visited. Upon speaking to the townspeople, they learn that other towns have attacked them over the last few years, and that they were the only ones who weren’t somehow different… “dark.” The monastery is boarded up, so Szeth creates an opening in the roof using Division. Inside, they find a dead shaman, Sivi-daughter-Sivi, holding the Willshaper Honorblade. Written in the stone beside her are the words “I will not bow to him.”
Szeth informs Kaladin that he must now visit each of the monasteries and essentially free them from the darkness that has taken the land. Szeth’s spren questions this planned course of action, but Szeth offers up some strong arguments and the spren relents, though he states that Szeth doesn’t have all of the facts. Of course, he won’t divulge what Szeth doesn’t know, insisting that the information must be earned.
Then Szeth uses a “thought soldier!” He hears the whispers in the shadows and the thought soldier declares that Szeth has a purpose, and is capable of making his own decisions. Szeth actually tries Kaladin’s suggestion, and it works! I truly love this moment, as it shows that he is willing to listen to, and to heed, Kaladin’s words. Way to go, Szeth!
Aaand then he thinks about how, once he cleanses Shinovar, he can finally end himself. One step forward, two steps back.
And so Szeth’s mission continues with the cleansing of Shinovar, and Kaladin’s continues with him trying to provide Szeth with therapy that he doesn’t actually want. Nobody said it would be easy!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs
Taln and Ishi are the heralds in this chapter’s arch. Ishi certainly makes sense, as this takes place in Shinovar where he’s currently (in the present time and place) camped out. Taln, though, requires a bit more thought. Neither his title (Herald of War) nor his associated Radiant order (Stonewards) have any bearing on this chapter, so we can only assume that his attributes are what are linking him to the narrative. Dalinar is having to be resourceful as he attempts to get answers from the Singers, and he IS a soldier… If we want to get a little more esoteric, his soulcasting properties are “rock and stone,” and Shinovar reveres stone. That’s really reaching, though.
We’re beginning to see more of the arch deterioration with this chapter, and I find the fact that Chana’s eyes are worn away on a Shallan chapter to be VERY interesting. Knowing what we know about Chana’s real identity, and how Shallan feels about her… this is pretty fascinating. Shalash is probably here since we’re seeing Shallan (a Lightweaver).
In this chapter arch, we have—once again—Chana, with her eyes “closed.” I’m curious to see if the position of the damage remains constant, or if there might be more clues that we can glean, in terms of symbolism, based on the damage that is done to the arches as the book continues on. Anyway, Chana is likely here because Szeth uses a Dustbringer power. Kalak is the patron Herald of the Willshapers, whose monastery they’re liberating in this chapter.
Dalinar
In a flash it was his wedding night with Evi, where he performed inadequately in a drunken stupor.
Ooof. Aside from the (ahem) embarrassing nature of that vision, I find it interesting that he was already drinking at this point. For some reason I had always assumed that his alcoholism hadn’t really kicked into gear until after the Rift, but this would indicate that his struggles with alcohol started far earlier.
He was a youth, angry at being mocked by well-dressed men from Kholinar.
Well, that explains a bit more about Dalinar’s annoyance at Adolin’s love of fashion.
Renarin and Shallan
We see a lot of interesting growth in both Renarin and in Shallan in chapter 44. Renarin is standing up for himself and being far more confident! Well… Maybe not FAR more, but he’s absolutely displaying more of a backbone than he has in the past. Maybe taking down that thunderclast back at the end of Oathbringer is helping to boost his self-esteem. As for Shallan, she’s made peace with all the different aspects of her personality, allowing them to step forward and help her when needed. But she’s needing that less and less these days.
Kaladin and Szeth
Meanwhile, I’m 100% here for the burgeoning buddy-comedy between Szeth and Kaladin. There’s some really, really beautiful movement here, not only in Szeth’s understanding of himself, but in their relationship. Kaladin’s efforts are really beginning to bear fruit, as Szeth is listening to him rather than immediately discounting everything he says out of hand, and even uses one of Kaladin’s methods at the end of the chapter! We’re even seeing a little friendly banter between the two of them.
“No,” Szeth said, “but the Skybreakers teach that if my emotions rule me, I will leave corpses in my wake.”
“You haven’t done so anyway?” Kaladin said.
Point: Kaladin.
Notes on Color Theory
Cyan, magenta, yellow, she thought, remembering her color theory lessons.
(Puts on my rarely-needed “I minored in Studio Art in college” hat…) Well, that’s fascinating. These three colors are the primary colors of the CMYK model—the model used for printing, as opposed to RGB (used primarily for digital screens). CMYK is a subtractive model, as opposed to an additive one. In CMYK, each pigment absorbs all the light except for the spectrum of the pigment itself. As you combine colors, more light is absorbed. The conclusion to this is that a combination of all colors absorbs all light and gives you black.
In RGB, each color adds to the spectrum, creating a rainbow (white—which is why you see a rainbow when light is divided through a prism).
What can we glean from the fact that we are seeing subtractive light in the Spiritual Realm? Any thoughts, Drew?
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
And we’re off to Day Four!
Let’s start with Lyn’s point from above. I definitely don’t have the art or color theory background she does, but this is an interesting point. It reminds me of the inversion of shadows in the Cognitive Realm, a little bit. A signpost that things don’t work the same way here.
That said, it also feels like an opportunity to get a little meta and review Sanderson’s Laws of Magic. If you haven’t read the FAQ there, it’s a nice glimpse into his philosophy around creating magic systems and how to use them in relation to narrative conflict. In many ways, this theory is what spawned the idea of “hard” and “soft” magic.
These three laws can be found all over Sanderson’s books. But there’s a hidden, fourth law… or perhaps zeroth law: “When in doubt, err on the side of awesome.” If it’s cool, Brandon says, go for it. And, in my opinion, using CMYK here feels cooler than RGB.
But we do have to loop back around to my regularly scheduled epigraph programming. Sadly, Day Four’s epigraphs are a great deal less fun than Day Three’s. We’re revisiting Words of Radiance—not that one, the other one.
These first three deal with the differences between and within the different Orders of Knights Radiant, specifically calling out the Willshapers and Skybreakers:
While Willshapers embraced this very sense of contrarity, an attitude that will come as no great surprise to any conversant with their predilections, and indeed might be found unexpected in its absence, the presence of such strife among Skybreakers is a source of no small stupefaction to many.
Carving through the excessively flowery syntax and language, we understand that Willshapers are often different from one another, and this makes sense—they’re all about independence, personal freedom, unique expression—but the strict, law-abiding Skybreakers also had variance with their ranks. This is mentioned again later in the book, though not in any substantial manner. It feels like something being set up for the back five, to be honest—a Chekhov’s Gun where we weren’t expecting one at all.
But it’s all right that the epigraphs in Day Four aren’t as interesting as those words from the Sleepless, because Day Four brings with it one of the most baffling elements in all of the Cosmere: the Spiritual Realm.
When he made the mistake of peeking, chaos reigned, trying to tear him from the warmth.
Dalinar and Navani have been cast into this most nebulous of Realms, and they have to figure out what the heck is going on and how the heck to manage it. And along the way, they hope to get clues as to the true nature of Honor and the history of Roshar.
That’s a lot.
Our first tableau is a pretty fascinating moment, too: the arrival of humanity on Roshar. There has certainly been speculation about this over the years (with theories as farfetched as humanity flying from Ashyn to Roshar via Spaceship Urithiru), but here we see something (relatively) more mundane. It was an Elsegate.
There, in the near distance, a light split the sky—and a portal opened to another world.
But it was an Elsegate opened by none other than everyone’s favorite Herald Bondsmith, Ishar. Surgebinding sure worked differently back then, eh?
To be honest, this is the beginning of what is a bit of a nightmare for the hardcore lore section of the fandom. The Spiritual Realm, lore about the Wind (and the Stone and the Night)… At this stage of the game, at least, this all feels quite a bit further down the Soft/Hard Magic scale than is typical for the Cosmere. A lot of it just sort of… happens, because reasons. We’ll be circling back to this throughout the book, trying to make heads or tails of any deeper logic.
And of course, Dalinar and Navani aren’t the only ones who were cast into the ever-shifting chaos of the Spiritual Realm. Shallan, Renarin, Rlain, and their spren were collateral damage as well, and they find themselves working together to navigate this new Realm… but in a slightly different manner.
Luckily for them, Enlightened spren like Glys and Tumi have an affinity for the Spiritual Realm, and they quickly find Shallan. With their help, Shallan and company start developing a plan to find Ba-Ado-Mishram’s prison, and it starts by tracking Dalinar’s vision—and affirming their goal of stopping the Ghostbloods by any means necessary.
Again, this feels a bit softer than usual. Why are spren touched by Sja-anat more attuned to the Spiritual Realm? All spren are made of Investiture, after all, and the Spiritual Realm is the Realm of Investiture. Is it because Odium’s distinct flavor of Investiture has better future sight than Honor’s, and future sight is tied to the Spiritual Realm? Possibly, but Radiant spren are (mostly) a blend of both Honor and Cultivation… and Cultivation is particularly adept at seeing the future.
And lastly, we return to Kaladin and Szeth in chapter 45. This is mostly a wind-down chapter after the fireworks of Szeth’s duel with Rit, but it does offer another interesting tease:
The corpse belonged to Sivi-daughter-Sivi, a woman he had once known very well.
At the end of the book, during Szeth’s final battle against Ishar, Sivi is not represented among the Stone Shaman/Fused/Cognitive Shadows. The physical corpse here is a nice tease—with a touch of the macabre—as to what is really going on with the Honorbearers.
It’s wild to think that we’re already nearly 450 pages into this book, and we’re just getting started on the craziness of the Spiritual Realm. More secrets lie ahead!
Highlights/Fan Theories:
We wanted to highlight some interesting thoughts from the comment section of our previous discussion, in case you missed them!
RogerPavelle has an interesting view on Lyndsey and Drew’s discussion last week about Taravangium and Odium manipulating each other. Go check out his comment.
Then AndrewHB chimed in:
Lyndsey. I have a different take than you as to why Chana was on the arches in Interlude 5. I had initially thought that Chana’s personality that would be affected due to the breaking of the Oathpact was her element of bravery. I thought that modern day Chana would be cowardice. Instead, Brandon went with the other aspect of her personality. Instead of being a warrior first and foremost (a shield for Jezrien), she became a homemaker.
Finally, Jeff McClung (Aeon Dork) asked:
Regarding Dovah/Battah—at the end, she’s off Oathpact’ing with Kal and the gang, right? But is she still a Retribution double-agent at that point? I need book 6 like, tomorrow. LOL
…and we can certainly all relate to that!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!
We’re actually going to be off next week, but we’ll see you the following week on Monday, March 17th with our discussion of chapters 46, 47, and 48![end-mark]
Happy reread Monday, Cosmere Chickens! We hope that you had a nice, restful week off without us, but now we’re back for more analysis of Wind and Truth! We’ve got quite a lot to dig into this week, from battle strategies on two different fronts, touching family sacrifices, and—of course—Cosmere analysis, theories, and questions about the Skybreakers and the future of the Radiants, the always mysterious Hoid, and the exodus from Ashyn!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
Chapter 46 is titled “Alaswha” and we’re back with Dalinar and Navani, who have found each other in the vision inside the Spiritual Realm. They watch as Ishar opens a portal from Ashyn to Roshar, and our Bondsmiths see the other world burning, so much so that the very sky seems to be on fire.
Wanting to learn some of the history of the arrival of humans in an effort to convince Honor to allow Dalinar to take up its shard, they venture forth to engage the humans. Of course, Dalinar and Navani both look like singers, so when they see Jezrien (who’s with Chana and Ash), and Navani speaks his name, he is understandably defensive, holding a spear with an obsidian head and speaking in a language they don’t understand. Dalinar tries to touch him in hopes of “learning” his language but Jezrien isn’t having it. Of course, they’re actually there in the vision, not just watching it, so they need to take care not to get stabbed by Jezrien (though as Navani points out at the end of the chapter, there’s sufficient Stormlight around to heal themselves).
Then they see Wit emerge from the portal and Dalinar does succeed in touching him, but he only speaks the language of the singers that Dalinar and Navani are speaking. He’s quite dazed, completely out of it, and wanders away, rambling. Dalinar thinks he sees the Stormfather, so he heads off to speak with him while Navani goes to see what she can learn from the refugees.
Of course, we know that they’ll adapt to the vision and learn much, but we’ll get to that next week. For now, I can’t imagine how frustrating it would be to witness this incredibly important historic event as it happened and not be able to speak to anyone there about their experience.
Chapter 47 is titled “Failure Points” and we’re back with Adolin as he uses a Shardhammer (since Mia has gone to enlist help) to help ward off the eleventh attack since the previous day. Of course, the singers greatly outnumber the Azish and Alethi soldiers, so they can send wave after wave of fresh troops through the Oathgate from Shadesmar while the defenders are already beginning to tire.
We know that they’re just trying to hold out until the coalition army from Emul begins to arrive, but we also know that that army is not going to make it, so seeing Adolin so tired already is heart-wrenching.
Yet he continues to fight, despite his fatigue. The singers have laid a trap for the humans in this chapter. Their assault is all in one place, ensuring that both Shardbearers will be there to assist the regular troops. When the singers retreat, the Shardbearers charge forward—only to find that the dome of furniture the humans had been using to slow down the singers has largely been soulcast to bronze. Stormforms appear, driving back the human forces; Adolin and the Azish Shardbearer must retreat.
It seems that the singers aren’t just throwing volleys of troops at the humans—they’re adjusting their battle strategy to try to gain an advantage, and they’re trying to capture Shardbearers.
Leaving Adolin to get some much-needed rest, the narrative switches over to Sigzil as he arrives at the Shattered Plains. We get to meet his spren, Vienta, who is delightful, and it’s sad to see the amicable relationship they have considering what will happen later. She estimates that the everstorm will arrive in three hours; they head toward it to assess the situation, along with several others. Skybreakers are with the Heavenly Ones, and Sigzil guesses that it’s the entire force of Skybreakers. They also estimate something like eight or nine hundred Fused.
Sigzil heads to a meeting of generals and slightly upends their plans, setting the battlefield up on four plateaus, two of which they cannot lose: Narak Prime and Narak Two, which holds the Oathgate. Narak Prime is akin to the Azish throne; as long as they hold it until the contest of champions, they’ll hold the whole Shattered Planes. So that’s Sigzil’s plan: to put up a bit of a fight on Narak Three and Narak Four in order to draw attacks there, keeping the enemy forces busy in the hopes of holding out for the next six days.
The coalition forces must defend Narak with only three hundred Radiants. Though they also have ground forces and a dozen Shardbearers, they are still outnumbered.
I’ve got to say, it’s nice to see Sigzil feeling so confident and sure of himself. He initially questioned Dalinar’s decision to have him lead the forces at Narak, but he’s accepted that vote of confidence—embraced it, even. And he’s ready to lead.
Chapter 48 is titled “A Talent” and it’s a Szeth flashback, taking place immediately after he killed the soldier with the rock. His sister’s been sent away for a few days; he lies alone in bed, listening to his parents speak with the Farmer, who says that they need to train Szeth as a soldier. He is already beating himself up, our young assassin-to-be; he berates himself for hitting and killing another person and thinks that the spren will never speak to him.
But then a voice does speak to him, the same one he heard before, telling him that they watch him and are curious. He’s shocked to hear it, but then he hears his father telling the Farmer that if he’s going to send Szeth away to teach him to subtract, then he would go with him and also learn. Then Zeenid says they’ll all go. Szeth is so relieved to know that he won’t be alone.
And so young Szeth’s journey to becoming an assassin is set, and we’ll watch as he learns to fight, learns to kill, learns about a great many things… Stay tuned!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Interesting choice of Heralds for the chapter 46 arch. The two instances of the Wild Card are pretty self-explanatory, as Wit plays a relatively large role in the chapter. Chana also shows up in person, so she makes sense, as does Ash. But we also see Jezrien and Ishar in the vision. Is there another reason we’re seeing Ash and Chana represented, but not Jezrien and Ishar? Do they play a more important role, somehow, than we’re seeing on the surface? Perhaps Chana is here in her attribute as patron of the common man, symbolic of the refugees flooding through the gate. As for Ash… I can’t say. We don’t see any Lightweavers, her attributes of “creative and honest” don’t seem to be coming into play, nor does her role as an artist, so… I’m at a loss.
Chapter 47’s arch features Jezrien and Kalak. Both Adolin and Sigzil are showing attributes of both of these Heralds in this chapter: Resolute. Protecting. Leading. So it’s not much of a surprise to see them both heading the arch. Jezrien is most likely also here due to the Windrunners in Sigzil’s chapter.
I’d also like to take a moment to note what appears to be a new character icon. I haven’t been paying as much attention to them in these articles as most haven’t changed from previous books, and they’re primarily just an indicator of whose POV we’re in, but this one’s really cool: The pen and the spear, inverted. I’m assuming that it’s meant to portray Sigzil, who is both an administrator and a soldier. A man divided, but whose dual attributes support one another rather than contrast. And he’s just now beginning to realize how effective that can be.
Finally, we have chapter 48, in which we see Nale (no surprise) and Vedel. Vedel’s the interesting one; I believe that she’s here to represent the love of Szeth’s family.
Navani
I love seeing Navani acting here as a tempering agent for Dalinar’s more aggressive tendencies. She has a more reasoned, logical approach to… well, everything, whereas Dalinar tends to bash his way into things without thinking. She serves as such a great foil, with the relationship between the two of them making each character stronger.
Vision!Wit
I find it fascinating that Wit has the presence of mind to realize that he’s in a vision. It must be terrifying, to know that you’re not real, and puts me in mind of philosopher René Descartes and his famous principle: “I think, therefore I am.” In this instance, Wit can think, but he knows on a deep level that he’s not real. How awful, to know that you are nothing more than a figment of someone else’s mind, unable to do anything, cursed to cease existing at their whim, and with no agency or free will.
Adolin
He knew he was killing good people who were fighting for a world where humans could never enslave them again. Fortunately, Adolin hated this part already.
Nice to see Adolin thinking this way. Not that I ever doubted for a moment that he did, but we’re more used to seeing Kaladin struggling with this than Adolin. And while it took almost a whole book (and an Oath) for poor Kal to come to terms with it, Adolin, the career soldier, seems to have grasped the concept long ago and knows that he has to do what he has to do.
Sigzil and Vienta
Seeing the relationship these two have is pretty beautiful. Sigzil is supportive of Vienta’s “not strictly honorsprenlike” mind and talents, and in return Vienta helps bolster Sig’s self-esteem.
He waited, his heart racing, for their objections. The obvious ones: That he had never been in command of a battlefield like this before. That his scientific thinking was something to be mocked—among soldiers, it made him so odd.
He’s never felt as if he were good enough; we’ve seen it time and time again throughout the first four books. But now, finally, Sigzil’s beginning to believe that he’s worth the trust that Dalinar and Kaladin placed in him.
Szeth
“He had nail marks on his throat, Neturo,” the Farmer said, his voice kindly. Like a flute. “The soldier attacked him. Beyond that, they robbed you.”
“I know,” Father said. “But… my little boy…”
Clear case of self-defense, and I’m so glad to see that all the adults recognize that. So often stories fall back on the “no one else was there! It must have been COLD-BLOODED MURDER” trope so it’s refreshing to see this subversion of that. The adults all know exactly what happened; but unfortunately, that knowledge doesn’t change the result.
“This is a talent,” the Farmer said. “The Stone Shamans teach that it is. Your son should be sent for training.”
“In how to kill?” Father asked, his voice cracking.
I’m seeing some really intriguing similarities here between Kal/Lirin and Szeth/Neturo. Both Kal and Szeth are children who were forced into war, and have fathers who don’t approve of their violence. The difference, of course, is that in this case, the father chooses to go with the son to protect him however he can. If Lirin had done the same, how different would things have turned out? Would it have been possible at all? It didn’t seem like the administrator who took Tien and Kaladin would have allowed Lirin to go, but who knows. It’s an interesting thought experiment, at the least.
“We are a family. My son will not step into the darkness alone.
These pieces of artwork are really cool. I love the inclusion of the shash glyph (the same one that used to be branded on Kaladin’s forehead, marking him as dangerous) and that they give us a concrete mental image of how utterly alien and yet… human these Fused are.
Tactics
Lots going on tactically in chapter 47, as we see the Singers beginning to take a foothold in the Azimir dome. They’ve managed to take some of the broken debris that the Azish scattered around (meant to act as hurdles for the incoming enemy troops) and have constructed a 100’ diameter roofed fort, from which they’re concentrating attacks at one specific part of the line of defenders. Thankfully, that concentration means that the two Shardbearers are able to focus their defense on that one specific area. They’ve also soulcast the wood of that fort into bronze, so burning it won’t help. Adolin’s forces are beginning to see some casualties; the Alethi started with about 2,000 men and 21 were killed in this attack, with another 60 injured.
Art @Dragonsteel
Meanwhile, over on the Shattered Plains, Sigzil begins setting up the defense of Narak. They’re facing some pretty daunting odds; Heavenly Ones, Skybreakers (traitors!), as well as ground troops. Ka notes that this is roughly half of Odium’s Invested force, arrayed against them on this one battlefield. Hundreds of Skybreakers. Almost a thousand Fused. When Sigzil arrives, the generals are focusing their defense on Narak Prime (losing it will result in them losing their stake on the Shattered Plains) and Narak Two (the Oathgate). Sigzil, however, puts forward the plan to send troops to fortify all four plateaus. Narak Three and Four will act as sacrificial lambs, meant to waste the enemy’s time as they run out the clock to the contest of champions.
Art @Dragonsteel
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
Well, this week’s epigraphs don’t give us much in terms of theory fodder. It’s more about the Skybreakers and the various arguments about why someone should or should not have seen a split in their ranks as an inevitability.
Irid adjudges this reasoning spurious, given the Skybreaker air of exactitude, that dissention is inevitable, as they turn finer points of argument against one another.
Maybe there’s something to extrapolate from this? It’s hard to say, since this is so specific to the Skybreakers, but it could be as simple as foreshadowing further splits in the Orders in the back half. It’d certainly be a fascinating development to have, say, the Unseen Court end up at odds with another group of Lightweavers, or the Bridge Four tradition of Windrunners facing off against Windrunners who cropped up in Retribution-controlled territories.
Honestly, I’d be pretty on board with some internecine Radiant warfare. That would be a brilliant way to complicate the geopolitical landscape of Roshar—say, in book 8, after we’ve gotten used to the literal new landscape of the planet.
In chapter 46, we return to the arrival of humanity on Roshar. It’s sort of amusing, on reread, because the first time through these chapters carried a sense of excitement, of discovery. But now, knowing that the real story still waits in Tanavast’s flashbacks, this chapter feels a little… hollow. Dalinar and Navani don’t know what’s going on, but we as readers do.
None of them are me. I’m… power… trying to imitate him…
Really wish Brandon would’ve thrown us a bone here and at least given some Hoid True Name theory material. He has had so many names across the published Cosmere—Dust, Wit, Cephandrius, Midius, Hoid—and I feel like this would’ve been a good chance to give us some details about Midius.
We know that the Heralds know him as Midius, and extratextually we know that Midius was the name of the main character in The Liar of Partinel—whose master, named Hoid, died in chapter one. There is a lot of circumstantial evidence for Midius being Hoid’s real name, since we know that Frost asked if he was “no longer [hiding] behind the name of your old master?”
But who knows how much Brandon has changed in the canon of Hoid’s history since scrapping The Liar of Partinel? Midius might now just be a name he used on Ashyn, and there’s some entirely new appellation attached to him in the planned Dragonsteeltrilogy.
One storm. The worst one.
Not much to theorize about here, but this made me laugh. Leyton has a rough go of things in this storm, to be sure, but the true Everstorm is yet to come…
“Do you know the stories of the Knights Radiant?” the Farmer asked. “They had a philosophy. They called it… watchers at the rim. They went to fight, and be changed, so we might live.”
This imagery is one of the things that has stuck out to me from Wind and Truth. It’s vivid, this idea of a line of sentinels standing around the rim of a bowl-shaped landscape, looking down upon the horrors within.
Of course, all of those details aren’t necessarily present on the pages of Wind and Truth, but it’s the impression given. And it’s such a strong one that I wonder how far Sanderson intends to stretch it. There’s the obvious connection to the Radiants and the Voidbringers, the millennia-long war between Honor’s Knights and the Fused… but might there be more to it?
The interior-facing imagery that pops into my mind actually brings me back to the Words of Radiance epilogues before the Day Four chapters. The Skybreakers splintered, and they were the most fastidious of the Orders. If there is indeed a coming fracture among the Radiants, suddenly “watchers at the rim” could take on several layers of meaning.
Watchers to safeguard humanity from Retribution. Watchers to uphold unity among the Orders. Watchers to uphold unity within each Order. Each individual Radiant, a watcher given charge over his or her own mental, emotional, and honorable internal landscape.
This is just the sort of foreshadowing that Brandon Sanderson loves to inject into his stories.
And hey, it’s also perfectly apt for Szeth’s flashbacks and the themes of internal problems plaguing Shinovar. Multi-duty symbolism!
Highlights/Fan Theories:
On our last reread article, kilobravo commented on Reactor:
It was interesting to see how the Rhythms of Roshar pop up—in the vision of the arrival on Roshar, we hear both “hummed to a rhythm Dalinar couldn’t pick out” and “the others hummed in what seemed disagreement”, as well as Dalinar calling out when the singers’ rhythms are changing. And in chapter 44 Renarin responds to Rlain’s humming (which in Shallan’s POV is just “Rlain hummed something”) with “yes, it is curious.” So we are seeing signs that Dalinar and Renarin are both Connected enough to start to hear the tones of Roshar. I’ll add that to my list of things to keep an eye out for as we progress in the reread.
Then Knut Bernstein said:
Cyan and magenta were the colors of the Hion lines of Komashi (Yumi and the Nightmare Painter).
A short comment on soft and hard magic:
The vaunted hard magic systems are an attribute of the cosmere worlds typically accompanied by a Shard (dead or alive). But that means, they are literally designed and powered by Whimsy. So if we enter the realm of the Shards, the rules must of necessity become softer and more indefinite. Either because the(y) are less fix(ed) or because noone is there, not even Hoid, to teach our heroes the rules (and that means us.). Which one? Well let us Read and Find out!”
Finally, RogerPavelle said:
Drew wondered why Enlightened spren are better able to navigate the Spiritual Realm. I have two thoughts that are tangentially related.
First, because their Spirit Web was changed by Sja-Anat, they may have a better sense of their spiritual self than others.
Second, I wonder if they actually are more attuned to the Spiritual Realm or less. Since they were changed, maybe they are able to see it from more of an outsider’s perspective, giving a broader view of whatever landmarks or beacons might be found.
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday with our discussion of Chapters 49, 50, and 51![end-mark]
Hello, and happy Monday, Sanderfans! Welcome back to the Wind and Truth Reread! We hope you’re enjoying Day Four so far—can you believe we’re almost through it? We’ve got Spiritual Realm shenanigans for you, a peek in on Adolin, and another Szeth flashback to get to, so without further ado, let’s dive in!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a reread rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
Chapter 49 is titled “A Realm of Possibilities” and we check in on Shallan, Renarin, Rlain, and Dalinar. We really start to see the various arcs in the Spiritual Realm taking shape in this chapter. Arriving in the vision, Shallan and the boys find themselves in the bodies of singers and approach the humans arriving on Roshar from Ashyn. They can see Dalinar and Navani (who appear as themselves), but realize that Mraize and Iyatil will be in disguise, as they are; Shallan says they need to remain unobtrusive and watch out for anyone who might be staying too close to the Bondsmiths. Then Shallan whips up a Lightweaving to make herself look like one of the human refugees she’d seen in the crowd. No drawing, just voilà! And she’s a new person! Radiant takes note of this, and Drew will dig into this development in his section below…
Then our sweet, ditzy Shallan tries to blend in by helping some people get an animal out of the mud. Of course, it’s Mraize and Iyatil, but just as with their previous encounter at the Tower, Shallan takes far too long to realize this. She realizes she’ll never had a better chance to kill Mraize but hesitates… then Radiant takes over and goes in for the kill. But alas, she is unsuccessful, and Shallan escapes by pretending to be set upon by the man Mraize is impersonating, shrieking so that the crowd intervenes, pulling him away.
Then we witness something truly creepy: Formless shows up and kind of… takes a form? It’s a figure dressed exactly like Shallan’s Lightweaving, but in place of a head there’s just gray smoke. It repeatedly encourages Shallan to kill Mraize, taunting her by saying “[i]t’s what we are” and “[i]t’s what we need to become.” Shallan kind of breaks down, screaming, until she’s pulled from the vision to find Pattern holding her. Of course, as Drew mentions below, we now know that this is Iyatil—thought it’s interesting that’s she’s not taking a more direct approach and simply sliding a knife between Shallan’s ribs. She’s just… trying to make Shallan lose it? Which she obviously did, in the moment—poor Shallan!
Dalinar, meanwhile, is speaking with the Stormfather, who is his usually cantankerous self. He doesn’t divulge much as he kind of rambles about dogs and rats and minks… and birds. Dalinar tries to get information from the Stormfather about Honor and why he won’t let anyone take up his shard, but the Stormfather refuses to enlighten him. The Stormfather says he’ll take them back to the Physical Realm but it must be now. Dalinar refuses; he wants to learn more, and he thinks that finding out what happened to Honor will help him, once he finds the power.
The Stormfather goes ALL CAPS on Dalinar to no effect (even mentioning Gavilar, at one point, which makes Dalinar suspicious…). The Blackthorn remains on his course and the spren storms off angrily.
Chapter 50 is titled “The Price of Peace” and we start with a Navani POV. She feels as if there’s someone in the Spiritual Realm watching her, and I figure it’s Gavinor. Poor little pawn. Then the queen inspects the Elsegate and Wit (who now appears with no face) speaks with her. He knows who she is and knows that Dalinar rejected the Stormfather’s offer to get them out. She tries to approach Jezrien and Shalash and is successful, twining hands with the teenage Ash. The Wind gives her a hint at what she might use as an anchor to find Ash again at the forging of the Oathpact and Navani gestures to her own hair and then to Ash’s. Ash gives Navani her ribbon and the vision ends.
Next, we look in on our wonderful Highprince Adolin, fighting the good fight in Azimir. He learns that the Azish reserve forces have been delayed by an enemy force and that they are at least two days out. Of course, we know they’ll never make it, but every mention of it, and every time Adolin thinks he just needs to hold out until reinforcements arrive, is like a punch to the gut. He’s just trying to hold the enemy back, buying enough time for the larger force to ride in and annihilate them, and that’s just not going to happen.
There’s no assault at the moment, so he heads to visit the injured at the hospital. He makes his rounds, talking with soldiers and providing a positive presence. When he’s seen to everyone, he notices Ash and Taln and goes to speak with Ash. She is perturbed, per usual, and she asks, “Are you worth it?” Of course, she means the torment that Taln experienced alone on Braize. That question makes me think of the movie Saving Private Ryan when—spoiler alert—Tom Hanks’ character tells Matt Damon’s character, “Earn this.” And the older character asks his wife if he was a good man as they stand at the cemetery—he wants to be sure that he’s truly earned it. Adolin, when asked if the humans of Roshar are worth Taln’s sacrifice, simply answers that he doesn’t know.
He gets a message from Commandant Kushkam about the singer attacks and his prediction of their next move, which Adolin agrees with. Then, not expecting the next attack for an hour or two, he heads off to visit Yanagawn.
Chapter 51 is a Szeth flashback chapter titled “Test.” Szeth and his family are just arriving at the training yard near the Stoneward monastery. Elid, his sister, has apparently told him that this was all his fault—that they’ve had to leave their home, that they now have to step on stone, that they had to abandon their old life. He’s hesitant to follow but then his mother gives him a small sheep made of wool. She made it from Molli’s wool, and it was SO damn touching to read this part for the first time. It makes Zeenid leaving the family later on that much more painful, I feel.
But the Molli wool makes Szeth feel better and he steps onto the stone. They’re approached by a man called Betheth-son-Vetor, the captain of recruitment and discipline, who briefs them on what they’ll be doing. He sends Zeenid and Elid to their quarters while he takes Szeth, accompanied by his father, for his initial assessment.
The Voice that had spoken to him before speaks to him again, telling him how to perform during the assessment. It tells Szeth that it’s the spren of the stone that he discovered and that it’s been watching over his family. This seems to help Szeth calm his nerves and he steps forward and approaches the test as he’s been instructed, following the Voice’s guidance. The captain questions him and the Voice tells Szeth what to say. Then Betheth announces that Szeth might be more suited to officer training.
So now Szeth is set on his path to become the Assassin in White. He’ll learn how to subtract and, with his family, learn to navigate his new life among the soldiers. He’ll be quite different by the time we see young Szeth again and it’s so sad to me to say good-bye to this boy who was once so innocent and happy. Farewell, little guy.
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Chapter 49 features Ishar, Palah, and Shalash twice. Shalash is here twice since a good portion of this chapter is from Shallan’s POV. Ishar is patron of the Bondsmiths, since Dalinar also makes an appearance. As for Palah? Renarin and Rlain are here, too. This seems to be one of those straightforward examples where the chapter arch icons are simply showing us who’s present in the chapter, without much more nuance.
In chapter 50, we have Shalash and Palah again, only Palah shows up twice this time around. Taln also makes an appearance, but that’s almost certainly because he himself shows up in the Adolin section. As for Shalash and the double Palah… Palah is the Herald of scholars, and who could be a better representative for Navani than that? Shalash is a little trickier to figure out. I’d guess that he’s here because we often see her linked with Adolin, thanks to his deep connection with Maya (an Edgedancer blade).
Chapter 51 features Ishar and Chana. We can safely assume that Ishar’s here because he’s hanging out in Shinovar talking to Szeth as The Voice. As for Chana? She’s the herald of the common man, and is probably symbolic of Szeth’s family.
Renarin/Rlain
“You sound like your father,” Rlain said. “In the best of ways.”
Renarin glanced at the ground, and she sensed a blush in his posture—which she found very curious, especially given how he looked back up toward Rlain in an admiring way. Could it be… these two?
I love how observant of human nature Shallan’s become. It makes perfect sense; she needs to study others in order to better create new personalities, and to mimic people around her. In order to do so realistically, she has had to become a master of psychology.
Shallan
The first arrival of humans on Roshar. What a thing to witness. However, Veil coached her quietly—helping her keep her mind on the job at hand, reminding her of the skills she’d been practicing since childhood. When you had an abusive father and an insane mother, you learned to act.
We’re seeing time and again how well Shallan’s disparate personalities are blending and working together to help her. It’s definitely a huge step forward for her.
Storms, Shallan, Radiant thought.
What?
You didn’t need a drawing first. You just did it.
Not only is she making progress with her various other personalities, she’s making progress on her Lightweaving skills as well. The two are most likely linked, as Surgebinding skills almost always are intrinsically linked to the psychological states of their users, but Drew covers that a bit in his section below…
She could kill Mraize. As she’d killed every other mentor in her life so far and—
Do you need me? Radiant asked.
No, Shallan said[…]
Here we see more of that progress. She’s managing to control her own PTSD responses, to push them to the back of her mind until she’s ready to deal with them.
“Kill him,” a soft voice said from beside her.
Shallan’s voice.
Shallan spun and saw a figure dressed identically to her—but with a head made all of curling grey smoke. Spiraling, shifting, mesmerizing. “It’s what we are, Shallan,” the figure said. “It’s what we need to become. You cannot reject me forever. I am you.”
“Can you?” Formless asked, and all else seemed to fade. “You are what you were made into, Shallan. You are what was done to you. That is me. I am your future.”
I like the lampshading on the part of the author here. Shallan’s saying what we’re all thinking; what the heck? This was supposed to have been RESOLVED! Why is Formless still here?!
But Veil’s still around, isn’t she? Just in a different way. It’s not really that surprising that Formless would still be hanging around, too—although we re-readers know that’s not actually the case, and all will be revealed in time.
Dalinar
Dalinar stopped in front of the spren, studying him. Today, he thought he could even catch some shape to the shimmering—one that matched the image he’d seen of the dead god, Honor, also named Tanavast.
The Stormfather was an echo of the Almighty.
Oh, Dalinar. You were SO CLOSE to figuring it out…
“It is too late for me, Dalinar. You … should not try so hard with me. I am but a spren.”
Uh huh. Methinks the lady doth protest too much, as they say. It’s a shame that Dalinar doesn’t see it.
Navani
She doubted she had enough understanding of these kinds of physics to draw conclusions. Best to memorize her observations, then present them to her team when she returned.
Is Navani underestimating herself, or is she recognizing her limitations and delegating appropriately? She does have a tendency to think too low of herself (thanks in no small part to the emotional abuse she dealt with from Gavilar), but I think in this case she’s correct. This level of analysis is beyond the scope of her expertise.
Hoid
“Me?” the faceless Wit said. “Oh, I’m fine. Just a big mess of existential crisis! Me, who is not me, knowing that I’ll puff away back to nothing the moment this vision ends.
Goodness. I wonder if Fake!Wit also listens to a bunch of emo rock. I can understand why he’s so dramatic and over-the-top (knowing that you’re a construct of someone else’s mind must be a heck of a trip) but it’s still pretty funny to watch, from our perspective.
Battle Tactics
Not a lot here this week in terms of things that I can chart out and diagram, as we’re in a lull between battles. But there were two things I wanted to take note of…
The Azish reserve forces had been delayed. An enemy force of some sort had raided them, a mystery troop that baffled their generals.
This is definitely bad news.
“Castle Down?” “Move from towers,” Adolin said. “He thinks the enemy has been too regular with their assaults—on purpose, to make us expect a rhythm. The next attack will come later than expected, he thinks, as that will give us just enough time to start resting.”
A wise move. Pulling your enemy into a false sense of…not so much security, but expectation. Then flipping the script to catch them off guard.
Adolin
He gave needed reassurances—that a wound was a price sometimes paid for protecting one’s fellows. He reassured each that they weren’t letting anyone down by being out of action, and promised that if Rahel had extra strength, he’d allow her to do further healings to get men back on their feet.
As he went, anxietyspren began to fade from the room one by one.
As usual, Adolin proving what a wonderful commander (and man) he is. Taking the time not only to go and visit the wounded, but to remember all their names and offer them solace, reassurance, and sympathy isn’t something that everyone would do—especially not when they’re also dealing with their own battle exhaustion. But Adolin does it, and is happy to do so.
Szeth
As Szeth hung back, holding to his mother, she took something from her pouch. A small sheep made of wool. It smelled … of Molli?
He touched it, then glanced up at his mother. No words passed between them, though Mother wiped tears from her eyes.
Regardless of what happens later with his mother, this moment is a really touching one that shows how much she loves him.
Father’s job had always been to herd shepherds as shepherds herded sheep. Szeth didn’t know much about that, but if these soldiers had been sheep, he would have called them a poorly watched flock.
I like the characterization we see of Neturo in these flashback chapters. He has something that he’s very good at, and the minute he steps into an environment that’s disorganized, he starts formulating plans on how to make it more efficient. (Honestly, I relate to him in this respect.)
He felt so lacking in control, so frustrated by the apparent nonexistence of answers. Everyone talked about him, but they didn’t ask what he wanted.
Poor Szeth. His whole life is characterized by a lack of control. Thankfully he’s got Kaladin with him to help him see that he can make his own decisions now.
Szeth glanced back at his father, who stood with his arms folded, lost in thought as he stared at the camp. Neturo had found a problem to solve.
Oh yeah. I relate hard to this man.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
Sadly, we are once again left with little to say about the epigraphs in these chapters. It’s a lot of fancy words to communicate that people are good at arguing their points, but not a lot of actual substance. But the focus of the first two chapters is on the Spiritual Realm, Shallan, Dalinar, and Navani. Let’s see what good stuff we can dig into!
*Shallan had been moving in this direction, but had she ever fully created a Lightweaving without any kind of drawing? It was… well, it was about time.
Shallan has certainly been making some big strides since her truth at the end of Rhythm of War—first with her work against Abidi in Shadesmar, and again here with her Lightweaving. It still remains to be seen what’s going on with her peculiar struggles with Soulcasting; she’s got some really strange circumstances at work with the double bond, but she has Shardplate and it feels, at least to me, that she should be pretty close to Fifth Ideal level at this point. And yet, even as she starts doing stuff not seen for thousands of years—if ever—she can’t properly utilize one of the two Surges at her disposal.
Then there’s the reappearance of “Formless” (though we now know that it’s actually Iyatil) as Shallan is fighting Mraize. My first time through, this was an extremely frustrating moment. Shallan’s sections were often a bit of a slog in Rhythm of War, as she was in such a terrible mental place, and her breakthrough at long last was much-needed. To have things seem as if she’d so quickly backslid in Wind and Truth was rough, even if it may have served as an explanation for her ongoing issues with Transformation.
Honestly, I wonder if her double bond means she simply won’t ever get access to Soulcasting in the traditional sense. It might be interesting if her Transformation is a more robust version of the Spiritual Connection she has exhibited at points since Words of Radiance.
“There are pieces of the god who made the planet,” the Stormfather said. “No longer relevant, as humans—poorly adapted to this land—began to fear the storm above all else. And so it took on life… became an Adversary. A new demigod for Roshar.”
The three gods of Roshar, even on reread, remain nebulous and tough to understand in a mechanical sense. This is about the closest we get to a real answer, I think—the Wind, Stone, and Night are spren, fragments of Adonalsium. But they seem to work so differently from other spren, even the major spren like the Unmade and the Bondsmith spren, that they take on this nebulous sense of mythology. We get some more info about the Night later on, but the Wind and the Stone seem to be almost all-encompassing when it comes to Roshar, seemingly able to communicate with Kaladin and Venli wherever they are.
I have to wonder whether Sanderson intends to more fully explore these primal forces of Roshar in the back five books of the series. There isn’t the same sense that he’s promising answers as there was in, say, The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance with the Stormfather and the Nightwatcher. I hope we do get follow-through on this at some point, though.
Speaking of things that demand further explanation in the back five:
At this point, Navani thought, he might not be a Bondsmith, since this looks like an Elsecalling. So, some of the Heralds were practiced in different Surges from the ones they would one day take up as Heralds.
The function of Surgebinding on Ashyn, and the Heralds’ lives before the Oathpact, will almost undoubtedly get more attention in the later books. The fact that Ash and Taln are slated for flashbacks in books 8 and 9 is promising, but I hope we don’t have to wait until then for at least some answers around how this all worked.
Ashyn post-apocalypse apparently has a disease-based magic system, where infected people demonstrate powers—so long as they remain sick. But nothing in these early chapters indicates that anything like that is going on here; most likely it’s a new evolution of the Invested Arts after the departure of Odium. Instead, we just know that the Surges didn’t have acceptable strictures on their capabilities, and unfettered use during the conflict between Honor and Odium led to the destruction of Ashyn’s surface.
It will be fascinating to see what Taln’s past was like, and Ash’s.
Meanwhile, there’s not much new to say about Szeth’s flashback (though I like the chapter). This line did give me a chuckle, however, given my earlier note about the Wind, Night, and Stone:
I am the spren of the stone you discovered, the Voice said.
Good ol’ Ishar, lying through his proverbial teeth.
Not a lot of theories and comments to highlight this week, but last week Polygon picked up on Brandon’s recent list of his top ten favorite video games and speculated about the possible connections between the games and his fiction. You can check out the original list here—let us know if you have any thoughts on the games that made the top ten and/or how they might relate to Sanderson’s style, worldbuilding, magic systems, or any other aspect of his work!
As always, we’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday with our next discussion article on Chapters 52 and 53![end-mark]
Happy Monday, Cosmere Chickens, and welcome to this week’s installment of our Wind and Truth reread! In these chapters, we’re digging into some genuinely sweet Adolin and Kaladin sections (including one of the most beautiful and touching moments of the book), as well as Szeth’s showdown against two Honorbearers at once. Thankfully, he’s got Nightblood to lend a… hand? And of course, we’ve got Drew to analyze all those juicy bits of lore in Shadesmar. So buckle up and prepare to dive into that sea of beads, Chickens!
We haven’t been seeing a lot of deep theorizing on the social media channels we monitor lately, so if you’ve got some juicy Cosmere theories you’d like to see us tackle, please bring them to our attention in the comments!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
This week, Sanderfans, it’s time to spend time with our boys—the two on their buddy cop quest and the non-Radiant who eschews Oaths! Chapter 52 is titled “A Perfect Moment” and begins with Adolin, who goes to see Yanagawn to let the boy—man—practice with his Shardplate. The young emperor has fun demolishing dummies and flailing about in Adolin’s plate for a time. This will be helpful to him when he becomes an Unoathed, though I can’t help but imagine the rest of them flailing about in that future scene. I’ll laugh about it then!
We see Adolin and Yanagawn sit down to play towers, which marks the beginning of real growth in their relationship, as they become closer throughout the book. Adolin is like a big brother here, though I’ve seen people describing him as a father figure in this book. I rather think that Yanagawn needs a big brother in his life, though—someone to show him the ropes, teach him how to fight, how to maneuver, how to use both his mind and his heart on the battlefield.
Adolin wins their game, of course, but he questions Yanagawn about why he lost, and the young man is surprisingly insightful. He’ll continue to learn under Adolin’s tutelage, but these first steps toward a closer relationship are very touching.
One notable point is their discussion about oaths. Adolin doesn’t care for them. He talks of how his father and the Alethi armies took oaths and did terrible things—and were those oaths supposed to excuse those acts? Because the oaths made them honorable men?
Perhaps this is one reason that Adolin isn’t Radiant. This, and the fact that he won’t abandon Maya. He doesn’t believe in the oaths, and we’ll eventually see that personal promises mean more to him.
Another tidbit to note during Adolin’s POV is the friendly guard he speaks to, the one who seems to be poking fun at him by coming up with bizarre names for different variants of towers. He finds out that this soldier is Commandant Kushkam’s son, and we’ll see more of him later on.
Kaladin’s POV in this chapter is simply lovely. He’s making better stew, he’s learning to play the flute. And he dances a kata with Syl (who initially takes the form of a spear), which develops into an actual dance with Syl. This moment has been captured by artists and even one animator on TikTok—just Google “Kaladin dancing with Syl” to see what’s available.
This is such a touching scene because during the kata/dance, Kaladin realizes that he’s allowed to be happy. He has doubts, but he remembers the thought warriors that he’s told Szeth about, then pushes the negative thoughts away. He thinks that this may be the happiest he’s ever been.
And that’s coming from Kaladin Storming Stormblessed! Think about it: If Kaladin can find happiness, can’t we all? So many people love these books and their message because they can relate to characters like Kaladin and Shallan and Renarin and Navani… and on and on. Brandon has written these wonderful, flawed, broken, strong, and determined characters with attributes and attitudes and maladies that we can all see in ourselves. And to see the “gloomiest” of those characters finding his way toward happiness is kind of amazing, to be honest.
Chapter 53 is titled “Makari Sin” and we’re back in a Szeth POV where we learn that “Makari Sin” is the old Shin name for Shadesmar. Szeth is just sitting there, having some stew, when he inexplicably finds himself in Shadesmar, drowning in beads. Using Stormlight, he manages to exert some control over the beads and rises above the surface to see the Elsecaller shaman, Pozen. Then he’s suddenly ambushed, finding himself under attack by the Edgedancer shaman and engaging in a fierce battle with her before he finds Nightblood, glowing in all of its glory now that it’s in Shadesmar. I won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow account of the battle as you’ve already read it, but I will say that Nightblood was truly glorious.
What wasn’t glorious was Szeth’s spren. Szeth was expecting the spren, an ancient warrior, to assist him with his fight, and desperately asks the spren to locate a weapon. After first claiming that it shouldn’t interfere, the only contribution the spren makes is to retrieve the bead of a spoon for Szeth to fight with. Instead, Szeth throws it at the spren. (It was actually pretty funny, despite the dire situation.)
But, as Szeth says to the spren at the end of the chapter, when you’re living an illusion, be careful not to spoil it—because once it’s spoiled, it’s difficult to convince people again. I feel as if this is the beginning of the spren becoming more humble. It totally failed to come through in Shadesmar when Szeth needed it the most, and it will now take a step toward being the awesome spren that we meet in The Sunlit Man. Sorry you were so useless Shademar, though, Aux!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Chapter 52 begins with Jezrien and Vedel in the chapter arch. Jezrien could be here to represent Kaladin, and also Adolin, who’s teaching Yanagawn about battle tactics. His attributes are protecting and leading, and Adolin is teaching the young emperor how to lead on the battlefield. As for Vedel, she is also likely pulling double duty on this one. She’s often representative of Adolin, whose Shardblade was that of an Edgedancer. But Kaladin is also exemplifying her attributes of loving and healing. He’s learning to love himself, and healing himself just as much as he’s healing Szeth.
Chapter 53’s arch is a three-fer; we’ve got Nale (suitable for a Szeth POV), Vedel of the Edgedancers, and Battah of the Elsecallers. All of these are pretty self-explanatory; Nale we already explained, and Szeth’s fighting the Edgedancer and Elsecaller Honorbearers.
Adolin
Once, he could always count on Renarin being nearby—but now he was Radiant, and although he wasn’t a Windrunner, he was learning to fly. While Adolin just kept going as he always had. Same old Adolin.
[…]
“Thank you,” Yanagawn said, standing up. “For all of it, Adolin.” He paused. “How is it you’re not Radiant?”
Adolin covered a wince. That question.
That storming question.
Here we’re seeing Adolin getting down on himself for his “failings” again. If only he knew how important this supposed “failure” will be at the end of this book! He and his Unoathed are set up to be the only superpowered humans left when the Radiants’ powers fall.
Adolin’s discussion with Yanagawn about oaths later on is very interesting as well, considering where Adolin winds up. He says:
“My father made oaths, and so did all the highprinces, before the Radiants were refounded—back when they were all burning down villages and slaughtering people. Their actions were considered honorable because they kept their storming oaths. Who cares about the suffering they caused, right? Everyone was honorable! That’s what matters!”
He has a very good point. Adolin, even though he’s a nearly perfect soldier, is surprisingly self-reliant and individualistic. He’s not one to just take an order that he’s morally against without thinking it through. And the idea that an oath is sacrosanct simply doesn’t make sense to him, as he goes on to explain:
You know what I’d admire? A man who gave an oath, then realized it was storming stupid and broke it—apologized—and moved on with his life, determined not to make that kind of mistake again.”
“Some might call that hypocrisy.”
“No, it would just be—”
Adolin cut off. Sometimes a hypocrite is just a man in the process of changing. Storming Dalinar Kholin had written that in his storming book. People quoted it all the time.
Dalinar was always there, everywhere Adolin looked.
Oh, Adolin. Poor Adolin. He may not be carrying quite as much baggage as Shallan or Kaladin, but let’s face it, that’s a HIGH bar. He’s got a lot going on between questioning his own self-worth and his warring opinions of his father.
Yanagawn
“That is,” Yanagawn said, his voice echoing in his helm, “the single most satisfying thing I’ve ever done.”
Speaking of poor kids, Yanagawn’s barely had a single moment of pure, unadulterated fun in his life since he got promoted to Emperor. But now Big Brother Adolin’s here to shake things up and not only let him cut loose a little, but in the same breath teach him skills that may keep him alive should he need to use the Shardplate to defend himself.
“He… isn’t allowed to talk to me,” Yanagawn admitted.
Oh, right. “Is that hard?”
“The hardest part, Adolin. Harder than being a spectacle. Harder by far than my lessons. It’s the only thing I truly miss from the old days.”
Being held in such high regard that no one is allowed to talk to you, much less befriend you, is a hell of a lonely way to go through life. Everything is duty, and responsibility. There’s no room for individuality.
Until Adolin shows up, anyway.
Battle Tactics
“So… you would retreat if you want to preserve your cards for the next fight. Or if you think the risk is too high to try for victory?” Yanagawn hesitated. “But you never retreat when there is only one battle, and all is already wagered. […]”
I really love how Sanderson uses towers to illustrate and teach in-world battle strategy. It’s genius, really. I believe it was in one of the early episodes of Writing Excuses that he talked about how much he loved the names of the fighting stances in The Wheel of Time, and how each one managed to evoke an image of what the stance was without needing to resort to a bunch of descriptive language. I think he was trying to accomplish something similar here, though admittedly some of the battle tactic names are more easily grasped than others.
Kaladin
“I always wondered why he told me that story. The story about a people who followed a king who was, in the top of his tower, dead. About a people who learned their actions were their own responsibility. Seems odd, doesn’t it? I already knew that the lighteyes weren’t as valorous as they claimed, and that my actions were my own.”
“Maybe it wasn’t about the lighteyes,” she said, “but other forces you let steer you.”
We’re getting awful deep into the psyche on this one. What forces do we think those could be? Kaladin’s own depression?
When I learned to play it not with my lips, but with my heart. I can’t fathom what that might mean.
As someone who’s played flute (for fun, not professionally) for about twenty years, I relate a lot to Kaladin’s musical journey here. Learning the fingering, the notes, the embouchure… That’s the first half of the battle. Once you manage to get the muscle memory for those things, a whole new journey begins, where you can begin to feel the music and play improvisationally. It requires a certain mindset, where you have to sort of… let go of control and just let the music flow through you. And letting go of the things that Kaladin’s been clinging to is very much the point of his character arc for this book.
Something had… loosened in Kaladin when he’d let go of Tien’s death, and Teft’s death as well.
Kaladin’s journey of acceptance has certainly been a long one.
I had this…mental need to help, so when I failed, it broke me. Even more than the loss of a dear friend should have, because I was so defined by the idea of protecting others.” He finished writing and changed the paper, in case a message came for them. “Still, I genuinely want to help.”
“Rough,” Syl said quietly. “Because, like me, the problem you and the real you are all mixed up together.”
Rough indeed, Syl. Perhaps what Kal really needs is the ability to determine when to help, and when to let go.
If he could be doing anything at that moment, what would it be? What would make him happy? He let himself answer truthfully.
He wanted to go dancing with Syl.
And so begins one of the most beautiful and touching scenes in the entire series so far, as least in my opinion. This dance is hauntingly beautiful, and perfectly expresses the deep connection between Kaladin and Syl. The fact that they can share in this moment of mutual joy and beauty really shows just how far they’ve both come.
Tonight, his dance wasn’t about killing, or even about training. It was about the kata, and his love for what he’d learned.
Excuse me while I tear up a little. Much like with the flute (which also comes into play a little later), Kaladin’s learning to let go of all the trauma that’s controlled his life so far and just enjoy living,
He danced through it, and Syl danced with him, both riding the eddies of the Wind. And if he’d ever known a perfect moment in his life—crystallized joy, like light made into something you could hold—this was it.
When I read through this for the first time, I was convinced by this point that Kaladin was doomed. I’m so happy that that prediction turned out to be (mostly, technically) false.
Szeth
Starting off Szeth’s chapter here with a little map to show his and Kaladin’s progress. They won’t be needing to go to the Edgedancer monastery, as the Honorbearer gets taken out in the ambush in this chapter.
“Why?” Szeth shouted. “Tell me why!”
Once, he had never asked why. Strange, how he should be so insistent now. He’d changed, hadn’t he.
Kaladin’s lessons are having an impact.
Here the whispers were louder. In this realm, was he closer to the souls he’d killed?
I often wonder whether these voices are real or just a manifestation of Szeth’s guilt and trauma. In this series, it could easily be either.
“I shouldn’t interfere…” the spren said.
“Then I will die, and you will have no squire,” Szeth snapped, letting go and allowing the flowing beads to separate them. He perhaps should not have spoken so demandingly. Strangely, his reverence for his spren had begun to wane.
This is the most important character moment in this chapter, I think. Most of it’s taken up by action, but this one moment where Szeth gets fed up with his spren’s bullshit is a great bit of forward momentum. Part of learning to think for oneself is recognizing when the orders you’re being given are coming from an unreliable source, and Szeth’s starting to realize that his spren isn’t necessarily something to worship.
Yes, Szeth did find something to do with the spoon. He threw it at the spren, hitting him square in the forehead.
I just had to point this one out, as it made me laugh out loud.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
All right, we’re back with something interesting in the epigraphs!
It is to this end that I have identified and made particular note of three distinct factions of Skybreakers, even during Nale’Elin’s days of direct leadership, and this is to be found in my third coda.
Three distinct factions, eh? We know of Nale’s, obviously, and later we hear about Billid and the Skybreakers who followed him under “old Skybreaker oaths.” The impression I got from the text is that Billid’s group were more along the lines of “spirit of the law” people rather than Nale’s “letter of the law” philosophy. But who is this third faction, and what separates them from Nale and Billid?
The second epigraph this week is also interesting, especially given the context of discussion around the Skybreakers:
I wish not to engage to the reader their faults, rather to make it clear that an order so determined to care for the unwanted, the unguarded, and the disenfranchised would obviously have passionate disagreement in how to best attend to the needs of the lowly and disregarded.
This reads a lot more like the writer of Words of Radiance has suddenly switched to talking about the Edgedancers (though the epigraph for chapter 54, next week, throws a wrench in that). Certainly, this mindset doesn’t fit at all with Nale’s current incarnation of the Skybreakers, who really couldn’t seem to care less about “the unwanted, the unguarded, and the disenfranchised” or looking after the small people of Roshar.
Perhaps this is the third faction, to go with Billid’s “spirit of the law” Skybreakers and Nale’s hardliners. A group that could easily work hand-in-hand with Edgedancers. If Billid’s Skybreakers are the lawyers, and Nale’s are the SWAT teams, maybe these Skybreakers are the community service officers.
Meanwhile, over in Shinovar, Kaladin practices the flute for a while, and talks to Syl about the Wandersail:
“I always wondered why he told me that story. The story about a people who followed a king who was, in the top of his tower, dead. About a people who learned their actions were their own responsibility. Seems odd, doesn’t it? I already knew that the lighteyes weren’t as valorous as they claimed, and that my actions were my own.”
I’ve always thought that the story of the Wandersail and the revelation at the end of The Way of Kings was one of Brandon’s cleverest bits of writing. I know not everyone pays attention to chapter titles (especially in books like these, with over 100 chapters per book), but the chapter where Dalinar goes back into the Stormfather’s vision and is told that Honor is dead is titled “In the Top Room”… and that is such a perfect full circle with Hoid’s story.
Here, Kaladin is searching for meaning in the story despite already knowing the meaning—but it’s not the meaning he thinks it is. Or, rather, the meaning he thinks about is only one of many meanings, and he’s missing the forest for the trees.
And while Kaladin is busy pondering stories and dancing with Syl, Szeth is getting abducted into Shadesmar for one of the very best fight scenes in the book—maybe the best.
Something exploded from the beads to Szeth’s left. A younger Shin woman in grey robes, a bow strapped to her back. She bore the Edgedancer Honorblade: a narrow sword almost six feet long, with a curved crossguard.
Szeth, with no immediate weapon, against both Elsecaller and Edgedancer Honorbearers. It’s a great scene with some excellent action.
But it’s also a great scene for something else.
Szeth? I’m here! Use me!
Fans have been speculating about Nightblood’s appearance in the Cognitive Realm for years. Pretty much since the moment it showed up in Words of Radiance, in fact. And Brandon has remained resolutely tight-lipped about it until now.
In that hand he held not a jet-black sword, but a blazing, radiant line of golden light. Glowing like the sun itself, so bright it made the Edgedancer gasp and stumble back, shading her eyes with her left hand.
Nightblood literally and figuratively shines in this sequence, revealing to Szeth that it has been “chatting” with the Honorblades he’s collected, and thought it would be able to give Szeth further Radiant abilities. As we see later on in the book, Nightblood isn’t wrong—it was just jumping the gun a bit.
And one last comment on a fascinating moment:
Szeth stabbed into the air. His hand grew cold as the Honorblade drew Stormlight from him in a rush, and the weapon’s tip sliced through reality itself, cutting a slit like in the stomach of an enemy, maybe four feet across. It bowed outward, a hole just big enough for him to pass through.
We’ve seen Elsegates a couple times now, though we’ve never seen one from the point of view of its creation. Hoid witnesses Jasnah’s arrival at the end of Words of Radiance, and Dalinar’s crew just recently saw the arrival of humanity on Roshar. Neither of those Elsegates seemed to be as… primal… as this one. The visual of Szeth literally slicing reality with the Honorblade is admittedly very cool, but it also makes me wonder if there are simply different kinds of Elsecalling at work, just as there are different kinds of Lightweaving in the Cosmere and different kinds of healing. Ishar certainly didn’t have a Blade of any kind to open the gate from Ashyn to Roshar, after all.
What do you think? Is this just a cool visual, or is Szeth genuinely doing something different from previous forms of Elsecalling?
Next week, we reach the end of another Day, and we get one of the most intensely Cosmere interludes in the whole series. Stay tuned!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday with our discussion of chapter 54 and Interludes 7 and 8![end-mark]
Hello, dear Sanderfans. It’s time for another deep dive into the Wind and Truth Reread! So quit groaning about it being Monday and let’s discuss our thoughts on chapter 54, featuring Shallan and Adolin POVs, and Interludes 7 and 8, featuring Moash ::retch:: and Odium. We’ll explore Shallan’s reaction to seeing Formless, Adolin’s good-boy wonderfulness, and… bleh… Moash. Plus some genuinely fascinating visions and a weird new twist on Hemalurgy, so let’s get to it!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
This week, Sanderfans, we close out Day 4 and peek in on Shallan, Adolin, Moash (*mutters under breath*), and Odium. Chapter 54, the final chapter of this day, is titled, “A Friend.” It opens with Shallan thinking about Adolin and watching skyeels, taking a respite from the visions. This time, she, Rlain, and Renarin are in one of Rlain’s memories, of his childhood home, where he’d raised axehounds and spent so much time on his own.
It’s kind of a peaceful little break—or would be if Shallan weren’t busy having a bit of a freakout with Pattern over her recent encounter with Formless. I guess the seon that Shallan had all through Rhythm of War is who told Mraize and Iyatil about Formless. That, or the seon told Felt and he relayed that information. Clever of the Ghostbloods to hit her somewhere she’s most vulnerable. Clever, but cruel. But what else should we expect from that lot?
I enjoy this section of the chapter because Pattern is being so awesome and supportive of Shallan during her self-doubt and concern over the possibility of never getting better. When she thanks Pattern and he declares, “I am very good at this!” I have to laugh because while it’s quite touching, it’s also genuinely funny. I do adore Pattern and anyone who says that Brandon can’t write humor is reading different books than I’m reading. I also adore him for reminding Shallan of what Wit told her—that what was done to her wasn’t her fault and that she doesn’t deserve the pain. He’s a smart little Cryptic, he is.
Another reason this break isn’t as peaceful as it could be is that Mishram’s angry face keeps showing up. In the sky, in the rocks near Renarin and Rlain where they were sitting at the edge of a chasm, in the little house that was Rlain’s when he was young. She’s not letting the team forget that she’s storming angry with humans. And Brandon’s not letting us forget that Mishram’s the reason Shallan entered the Spiritual Realm.
Discussing the matter, the three agree that they must make another attempt to stop Mraize and Iyatil from finding Mishram’s prison. Shallan has the anti-Light dagger and Renarin and Rlain will just have to find something to use as weapons once they’re in the next vision. The three of them agree to head into another vision as soon as they can, and to stick together. It’s the three of them versus two Ghostbloods. They totally have the advantage, right? Right?
Next we peek in on Adolin, who is feeling exhausted. The onslaught continues, but he has a moment of peace and reflection, thinking of Shallan. It’s rather sweet that they’re each thinking of each other at the same time. It’s one of the book’s “Awww!” moments—at least, I hope more people feel that way than not.
But while Adolin is taking in the air, Noura approaches him. And she asks him, to no one’s surprise, to stop corrupting the Prime. We also all know how Adolin will react to such a request. He doesn’t argue, necessarily; instead, he talks to Noura about how Yanagawn needs a friend, someone who doesn’t bow to him or avoid his eyes, someone who doesn’t want or need anything that Yanagawn has to offer as an Emperor and the leader of an entire people.
Adolin wants nothing from the young man, so he reasons that he’s the perfect person to be that friend. Noura tries and fails to make her wishes a reality, though she also demonstrates that she truly cares about Yanagawn not just as the Prime, but as a person. It’s a nice insight into the character and her motivations; she may not approve of Adolin’s teaching of war or its tactics, but she is looking out for Yanagawn and that’s good to see. She does question Adolin about why he walked away from becoming the king of Alethkar and he guesses that she’s afraid that he’ll talk Yanagawn into doing the same. He seems to set her mind at ease about that, makes her realize that he’s been there, too… and he bids her a good night, thinking “that was a battle won, or at least fought to a stalemate.”
And that’s the end of Day Four! Let’s jump into the interludes!
Interlude 7 is a Moash POV. Growl, grumble, grouch, and grump. I loathe this human being almost as much as I loathe Dolores Umbridge. But his eyes were burned out when Navani leveled up and Moash is left with the memory of her surrounded by a halo of light, and what’s more, he thought he saw Teft’s spirit in that moment, as well.
Oh, and did I mention that he feels guilty? He feels everything and he begs Odium to take away his pain. But Rayse is no longer Odium, Taravangian holds that shard and he has a bit of a different approach. He doesn’t take away the pain, doesn’t take away the emotions.
“Your passion is what makes you live, Vyre. What god of passions am I if I do not celebrate emotion in my followers?”
Moash is unmoved, clawing at his eyeless face and feeling generally sorry for himself. ::yawn::
Then Taravangian, who I loathe almost as much as loathe Moash, tells the blind man that if a man must die for his choices, then it’s better to be killed by a friend. Which, I’m sorry, is just a sick point of view. Taravangian and Moash are just the worst.
The new god then tells Moash… ::deep, calming breaths:: …that he’s not a monster because he doesn’t love killing. And, oh, it gets better: He calls Moash a storming hero because it’s caused him agony to kill.
Taravangian gives Moash a vision.
Glorious forces marching to war, across a hundred worlds, bringing peace and order to so many.
He tells Moash that he will right every wrong and that Moash can decide how that happens and who is rewarded. THEN… Oh my Honor, then Taravangian has the nerve, the unbelievable, um, cremlings… to tell Moash that he will have to face his friends, and that they never stop being friends even if they name him a traitor.
Yes, Taravangian. Yes, Moash. They did stop being your friends. The moment you tried to kill Kaladin as he stood in front of Elhokar, injured and without Stormlight, facing you down with naught but a spear while you wore Shardplate and sported a storming Blade… in that moment, you became an enemy. You’re not still a friend. To any of them. Storm off.
::ahem::
Where was I? Oh yes… Taravangian brings someone to see Moash. To help him see again. Battar the Herald hammers some crystal spikes into Moash’s eye sockets, causing him, to the pleasure of a certain subset of readers, immense pain. Pobrecito.
And so Moash is granted sight again, though it’s quite different from regular sight. He now sees investiture. And we all know how badly this will go for the forces on the Shattered Plains later, but it’s kinda cool.Or, it would be if it wasn’t Moash. ::still grumbling::
It also makes me wonder if I’m… I mean, if we’re going to get the satisfaction of seeing the end of Moash in the back five or if he’s going to live to take the fight to the Cosmere. No, no, no, no, no. Put those words back into my brain. I am not inviting those thoughts! Nope… lalala, I can’t hear you!
Interlude 8 is titled “The Only Way” and it’s an Odium POV. Wow, has Taravangian gone off his rocker, or what? He lets his intellect be ruled by emotions and, to make a short interlude even shorter, decides that war is definitely the answer. He will control everything and everyone, and that’s the only way to protect everyone. Sure. Seems legit.
I’m not going to go further into Odium’s POV as it’s pretty straightforward. Rage, hate, war. Voilà. Moving on!
That’s all for this week, Sanderfans! Check out what Lyndsey and Drew have to say below!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Chapter 54’s chapter arch features Vedel in two places, which is fitting considering how prevalent Adolin is, and how strongly he’s exhibiting the Herald’s attributes of loving and healing. Vedel is often used in Adolin chapters since Maya was an Edgedancer blade, but he’s also displaying a lot of care towards Yanagawn here. Shalash is probably here for Shallan, and Palah? Well, Shallan’s sharing her chapter with Renarin and Rlain, so that makes sense. Pretty straightforward, and not a lot of analysis needed!
Moash’s interlude features Vedel and Ishar. I hate to type this, but Vedel is likely here because Moash sees himself as…
As…
Ugh. Do I have to type it?
::sigh:: He sees himself as healing the world.
(I feel ill.)
Both Moash and Taravangian see themselves as martyrs, sacrificing their morality in order to serve the greater good.
Now, as for Ishar… one of his attributes is “guiding.” Toadium definitely sees himself as guiding all of reality towards peace, so I guess this one makes sense too.
Finally, we get to Taravangian’s interlude. This one has Vedel and Palah as its chapter arch headers. The attributes of these Heralds are loving/healing and learned/giving, and in addition Palah’s role is the scholar. This is a pretty clear outward symbolism of the duality of Taravangian’s mind; the emotion on one side, and the logic on the other.
Shallan
“Is this what it will be like?” Shallan asked. “For the rest of my life? Knowing that my mind could—at any moment—backslide?”
This brings us to one of the biggest and most frequent complaints I see about Wind and Truth in various places online: that the characters “don’t get better” when it comes to their various traumas or neurodivergencies.
Those complaining do have a point in regards to character arc and general story structure so we can’t dismiss this complaint out of hand. A “pleasing” character arc, generally speaking, is one in which the character learns and changes throughout the story. So I can see why some people might view this bucking of the trend as off-putting. They’re used to their characters following a set path in regards to trauma; we learn what it is, they struggle with it (usually going through a few try/fail cycles) before they come to terms with the event and mostly move on, having learned something about themselves and grown as a person. These traumas can pop back up from time to time—the first two examples that jump to mind are Rand al’Thor from The Wheel of Timeand Claire from the Outlander series, though I could probably find one in every fiction novel if I thought about it. In both of these stories, we see the characters return to their respective traumas from time to time, but rarely as extensively and profoundly as Stormlight characters do. It’s usually a passing thought or directly related to a specific triggering event, but it’s portrayed as no longer being as important or affecting to the character as it was before their realization/event that “healed the trauma.”
While it’s true that Sanderson’s characters tendency to return again and again to their traumas goes against general story-telling structure, I personally really like this aspect of his character work, because it’s true to life. In real life, traumas are not so easily packed up and placed on a shelf. They return to us, affecting us in ways that aren’t always obvious, and the healing process is rarely as quick and straightforward as it’s presented in most fiction. Sanderson is using his work to open the eyes of people who may not have experienced these things themselves, and to speak to those who have. We see this exemplified pretty clearly in the comment sections of posts complaining about the characters dealing with their issues; one faction annoyed by these recurring struggles dragging the story down, and the other exultant at finally being seen and having their realities presented so faithfully.
Rlain/Renarin
“You get used to being alone,” Rlain said. “Sometimes a little too used to it, you know?”
“I do,” Renarin said. “Trust me.”
These two continuously charm me. They’re so sweet and vulnerable with one another. They’re open about their fears and insecurities, and I’m so glad that they’ve found one another to lean on.
“Because the truth can be painful,” Renarin said.
“So you’d rather not know it?” Rlain asked, his rhythm changing.
I wish we knew what rhythm Rlain was using here. Confusion? Frustration? Anger? If I were to guess based on the context of the scene and Rlain’s general personality, I’d say genuine curiosity. He’s trying to get to know Renarin, and finding these areas of common interest and learning how they view things the same or differently is a big part of these chapters.
Adolin
Storms, he’d been trying to relax, but it felt like he was carrying an incredible weight all of a sudden. Memories. He’d failed many times in his life, but Kholinar was different. Everyone made mistakes. But not everyone left their city to the enemy.
Poor golden boy. He’s going to be carrying that failure for a long time, I think… probably his whole life. Despite his success in defending Azir at the end of this book, it won’t bring back all those Alethi who died in Alethkar. And, as I pointed out above, Sanderson’s not one for having characters conveniently overcome their traumas for the sake of what’s commonly thought of as “good” storytelling.
“Noura, I’ve lived that life, worrying which of my friends are only there because they want something from me. That loneliness can destroy a person, and I’m grateful for those I was able to trust.
This is a new wrinkle in the beautiful tapestry that is Adolin! Perhaps this is why he reaches out to so many around him, and tries to make everyone feel included. He spent so much of his life feeling lonely and looking in from the outside that he doesn’t want others to feel that way too.
[…]any man, anywhere, should have the right to pick up the spear or sword and fight for what he believes in.
I don’t have a reason for quoting this one other than the fact that I really love it. No reason.
Nope.
None at all.
Give Yanagawn a little freedom, Noura, and he’ll soar. Hold him down, and he’ll start looking for exits lower to the ground.”
Adolin is just startlingly good at reading other people most times.
Once again, we get an incredible piece of artwork featuring the Regals by Ben McSweeney and Audrey Hotte. I love Direform’s tower shield, that’s an awesome design with the spikey bits at the top and bottom. It looks as if the shield and the… poleaxe? Mace?—are grown from the Direform’s own carapace, which is just insanely cool.
Our Stormform buddy’s got an awesome carapace-crown thing going on, along with the lightning sparking off of him.
Engage with extreme caution, indeed! I sure wouldn’t want to be fighting either of these guys!
Moash
Just starting this off by saying… great. A Moash POV. Exactly what I always wanted. (Insert eyeroll here.)
Moash was done.
If only.
To kill with agony, like a surgeon who must bring pain … those are the actions of a hero, Vyre.”
DAMN IT, SANDERSON! Don’t you DARE give him a redemption arc!
In all seriousness, I do appreciate this. Aubree Pham and I debated quite a lot in earlier rereads about Moash’s character and how he views himself, and I do still think that, were the story told from Moash’s POV entirely, he’d be the hero of his own story: A selfless martyr, sacrificing his own ethics and morality on the altar of the greater good. Turning on even his closest friends, in order to seek vengeance and justice for those who were destroyed by a system of government that doesn’t care about the common man…
He saw peace, serenity, a thousand wrongs righted. Kings cast down, and the families of working people—like those who ran the caravans—given, at long last, true retribution for the crimes committed against them.
And now, to be given the chance to have that sacrifice extend to ALL OF REALITY? Peace across all the universe, not just one country, or continent, or even planet?
Of course he sees himself as the hero. How could he not?
…I still don’t want him to be redeemed though.
Odium/Taravangian
Your passion is what makes you live, Vyre. What god of passion am I if I do not celebrate emotion in my followers?”
This is a pretty fascinating take. The previous Odium was happy to take away Moash’s emotions in order to easily create a tool he could use to further his own ambitions. Toadium, on the other hand, is taking the harder road and convincing Moash to embrace his pain.
In his POV section, we get more about what Toadium’s planning, and it’s bordering on some Minority Report-style justice. (If you’re unfamiliar, in Minority Report, the police force can look into the future and see crimes before they’re committed, then arrest the prospective criminals before they even commit the crimes.) That’s essentially what Taravangian’s considering… stopping all crime and unjust behaviors before they ever have a chance to occur. If he controls everyone in the universe, then he preemptively stops all crime and violence. But—and here’s where his intentions cross over into murky morality—this is also removing free will. Is a good action actually good, without the choice which leads to it? Or is it just mass slavery on a psychic level?
His family would never be safe unless everything everywhere was under his control.
Only then would he never have to fear.
Ah, so all of this is based in fear and lack of control. I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with that.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
A schism arose among them, as all evidence presents, but not of this nature. The Skybreakers, who have always quietly cared for those the law forgets, do still exist, as previously accounted; they merely exist in multiple forms.
Last week I mentioned how the epigraphs almost sounded as if they’d taken a hard left into discussing the Edgedancers, but here we see that they are indeed still referring to the Skybreakers.
I think it’s very likely that this sort of mentality—the community service officer Skybreaker, to use my analogy from last week—would have been pretty tough for the increasingly hardline and mentally unstable Nale to get along with. This schism could pretty easily account for a third faction, assuming it’s not the Billid group.
But that brings us to the end of the Day Four epigraphs. Not quite as tantalizing a bunch as the previous set from the Sleepless, but there’s still a good amount to ponder as we finish rereading Wind and Truth and head into the long break between installments in this series.
Shallan, meanwhile, is busy in the Spiritual Realm. Well, maybe not busy so much, but she’s hanging out there and looking at the clouds.
The face of Ba-Ado-Mishram. Glaring down at her malevolently. Shallan’s breath caught, and she glanced at Testament, who had been staring in that direction all this time. She wasn’t watching the skyeels, but that face in the clouds.
And:
“Face,” Renarin said, pointing to where he’d been sitting. “In the patterns of the stone on the ground.”
There’s no real theory or mystery here—Ba-Ado-Mishram is and will continue to be spying on them. But this image, of the Invested entity’s face in the clouds, is extraordinarily reminiscent of White Sand. Bavadin has a penchant for hanging out and watching the events of that story, usually via a face in the clouds or hidden among the rocks. I actually wonder how much that will be called out when Brandon revises and finally releases the novel version of White Sand, because the faces were an addition to the graphic novels; they weren’t present at all in the old rough draft version of the book.
And then we get to one of the crazier sequences in the whole book: Moash’s interlude.
And Moash saw. Or… imagined. Glorious forces marching to war, across a hundred worlds, bringing peace and order to so many. He saw peace, serenity, a thousand wrongs righted. Kings cast down, and the families of working people—like those who ran the caravans—given, at long last, true retribution for the crimes committed against them.
Oh boy. So. These visions are obviously temptations for Moash, but Brandon gets a little clever here as well. The use of “retribution” is too on-the-nose not to be deliberate. But he’s not finished with the cute stuff…
He saw unity. Forged beneath the banner of an eternal, immortal army led by a man in black Shardplate, eyes glowing red.
The Blackthorn. Oh, in this vision, at this stage of the story, we’re given to understand this is simply a teaser for Moash’s edification and a bit of Odium’s wishful thinking for getting Dalinar on his side.
But with hindsight after finishing the book? There may be more truth here than we thought. Again, the use of “unity” is pretty darn telling, especially right alongside a vision of Dalinar. And of course the Blackthorn itself, the spren that Retribution fashions into a general for his plans of conquest down the line, means that this vision is a whole lot more likely than we were given to expect at the ~40% mark of the book.
We’re not even done with this interlude, either.
They took mallets and pounded spikes of light through his skull.
Hooooookay.
So Moash was just turned into a Crystal Inquisitor, for lack of a better term, in the very first instance of on-page, cross-world Hemalurgy.
Now, we’ve known since The Hero of Ages came out that Hemalurgy had broad application potential across the Cosmere and Invested Arts. But it was always with the impression that it’d be metal spikes used—more specifically, the four Spiritual metals of chromium, nicrosil, aluminum, and duralumin. Nicrosil in particular has been the subject of much theorization, since it can steal Investiture.
But crystal? And how? Hemalurgy works through the application of blood, and the traditional method of creating Inquisitors isn’t used here. There was obviously no screaming, writhing person laid over top of Moash to have a spike driven through.
Outlines of light, the people specifically, and… gemstones, infused. Living things. No color, but… spren.
He sees more or less the same way as Inquisitors do, though there’s more focus here on Investiture rather than metal. On the surface, this seems natural; Roshar as a whole doesn’t do the whole metal thing like Scadrial, and gems and Lights are the big focus instead.
But seriously, how does this work? Perhaps the crystal spikes were prepared earlier and stored in blood, then pulled out for implantation in Moash. But that feels like the sort of thing that Brandon would’ve found a way to point at, especially with how clearly the crossovers are happening at this stage of the Cosmere. And if so, what attributes were stolen? There’s certainly nothing on the Hemalurgic table diagram from back in the day that talks about gemstone spikes.
The paucity of Moash in this book is, to be quite honest, one of my bigger complaints. He is not only a glaring, hanging plot thread that wasn’t even remotely resolved from the first four books, but now exists as a new kind of Chekhov’s Gun waiting to be pulled down from the mantel in the back half.
And because there’s just the one scene from his point of view, we don’t even know what kind of gun it is. Is he gonna start Gempushing around or something?
That’s all I have for this week, since Odium’s interlude was so short, and basically just featured him once again arriving at the conclusion that war is good. Don’t worry too much, though, since there’s a lot more Odium still to come!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday for the start of Day Five and our discussion of Chapters 55 and 56![end-mark]
