#kaladin

“To think,” Kaladin said softly, “that you have lived millenia and you haven’t learned a simple truth.” He pulled a deep blue cloak from the pack, the tower and the crown emblazoned on the back. “Nobility has nothing to do with blood, Ishar. But it has everything to do with heart.”

“Reforged,” Ishar said. He hesitated a moment, then lifted his arm to gesture toward Kaladin. “Welcome, Kaladin Stormblessed. Herald of Kings. Herald of the Wind. Herald of . . .” “Herald,” Kaladin said, “of Second Chances.”

And so, in the face of the most awful darkness he’d ever felt, Kaladin Stormblessed took a deep breath. Then stood up.

I will protect myself, so that I may continue to protect others.

“It won’t be like that for me,” Kaladin said. “You told me it would get worse.” “It will,” Wit said, “but then it will get better. Then it will get worse again. Then better. This is life, and I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say. That is truth. I promise you, Kaladin: You will be warm again.”

“Ten spears go to battle," he whispered, “and nine shatter. Did the war forge the one that remained? No, Amaram. All the war did was identify the spear that would not break.”

Honor is dead. But I’ll see what I can do.

But if it wasn’t about him - if he wasn’t helping the bridgemen because he loathed failure, or because he feared the pain of watching them die - then it would be about them. About Rock’s affable gibes, about Moash’s intensity, about Teft’s earnest gruffness or Peet’s quiet dependability.

And his father’s voice seemed to whisper a reply. Somebody has to start, son. Somebody has to step forward and do what is right, because it is right. If nobody starts, then others cannot follow.

Dalinar had come to help Kaladin’s men, attacking those archers and saving Bridge Four.

The lighteyes don’t care about life, Lirin had said. So I must. So we must.

So you must….

Life before death.

I’ve failed so often. I’ve been knocked to the ground and trod upon.

Strength before weakness.

This would be death I’d lead my friends to…

Journey before destination.

…death, and what is right.