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When has any man ever been content with what he has?

“When has any tyrant ever said to himself, ‘This is enough’?” Dalinar whispered, remembering words Gavilar had once spoken.

The Stormfather rumbled.

“The Almighty kept this from his Radiants,” Dalinar said. “When they discovered it, they abandoned their vows.”

It is more than that. My memory of all this is … strange. First, I was not fully awake; I was but the spren of a storm. Then I was like a child. Changed and shaped during the frantic last days of a dying god.

But I do remember. It was not only the truth of humankind’s origin that caused the Recreance. It was the distinct, powerful fear that they would destroy this world, as men like them had destroyed the one before. The Radiants abandoned their vows for that reason, as will you.

“I will not,” Dalinar said. “I won’t let my Radiants retread the fate of their predecessors.”

Won’t you?

Dalinar’s attention was drawn to a solemn group of men leaving the temple below. Bridge Four, spears held on slumped shoulders, heads bowed as they quietly marched down the steps.

Dalinar scrambled out of his villa and ran down the steps to intercept the bridgemen. “Where are you going?” he demanded.

They halted, falling into ranks at attention.

“Sir,” Teft said. “We thought we’d head back to Urithiru. We left some of the men behind, and they deserve to know about this business with the ancient Radiants.”

“What we’ve discovered doesn’t change the fact that we are being invaded,” Dalinar said.

“Invaded by people trying to reclaim their homeland,” Sigzil said. “Storms. I’d be mad too.”

“We’re supposed to be the good guys, you know?” Leyten said. “Fighting for a good cause, for once in our storming lives.”

Echoes of his own thoughts. Dalinar found he couldn’t formulate an argument against that.

“We’ll see what Kal says,” Teft replied. “Sir. All respect, sir. But we’ll see what he says. He knows the right of things, even when the rest of us don’t.”

And if he never returns? Dalinar thought. What if none of them return? It had been four weeks. How long could he keep pretending that Adolin and Elhokar were alive out there somewhere? That pain hid behind the rest, taunting him.

The bridgemen gave Dalinar their unique cross-armed salute, then left without waiting to be dismissed.

In the past, Honor was able to guard against this, the Stormfather told him. He convinced the Radiants they were righteous, even if this land hadn’t originally been theirs. Who cares what your ancestors did, when the enemy is trying to kill you right now?

But in the days leading to the Recreance, Honor was dying. When that generation of knights learned the truth, Honor did not support them. He raved, speaking of the Dawnshards, ancient weapons used to destroy the Tranquiline Halls. Honor … promised that Surgebinders would do the same to Roshar.

“Odium claimed the same thing.”

He can see the future, though only cloudily. Regardless, I … understand now as I never did before. The ancient Radiants didn’t abandon their oaths out of pettiness. They tried to protect the world. I blame them for their weakness, their broken oaths. But I also understand. You have cursed me, human, with this capacity.

The meeting in the temple seemed to be breaking up. The Azish contingent started down the steps.

“Our enemy hasn’t changed,” Dalinar said to them. “The need for a coalition is as strong as ever.”

The young emperor, being carried in a palanquin, didn’t look at him. Oddly, the Azish didn’t make for the Oathgate, instead taking a path down into the city.

Only Vizier Noura idled to speak to him. “Jasnah Kholin might be right,” she said in Azish. “The destruction of our old world, your secret visions, this business with you being highking—it seems too great a coincidence for it all to come at once.”

“Then you can see that we’re being manipulated.”

“Manipulated by the truth, Kholin,” she said, meeting his eyes. “That Oathgate is dangerous. These powers of yours are dangerous. Deny it.”

“I cannot. I will not found this coalition on lies.”

“You already have.”

He drew in a sharp breath.

Noura shook her head. “We will take the scout ships and join the fleet carrying our soldiers. Then we will wait out this storm. After that … we shall see. Taravangian has said we may use his vessels to return to our empire, without needing to use the Oathgates.”

She walked off after the emperor, eschewing the palanquin waiting to carry her.

Others drifted down the steps around him. Veden highprinces, who gave excuses. Thaylen lighteyes from their guild councils, who avoided him. The Alethi highprinces and scribes expressed solidarity—but Alethkar couldn’t do this on its own.

Queen Fen was one of the last to leave the temple.

“Will you leave me too?” Dalinar asked.

She laughed. “To go where, old hound? An army is coming this way. I still need your famous Alethi infantry; I can’t afford to throw you out.”

“Such bitterness.”

“Oh, did it show? I’m going to check on the city’s defenses; if you decide to join us, we’ll be at the walls.”

“I’m sorry, Fen,” Dalinar said, “for betraying your trust.”

She shrugged. “I don’t really think you intend to conquer me, Kholin. But oddly … I can’t help wishing I did have to worry. Best I can tell, you’ve become a good man right in time to bravely sink with this ship. That’s commendable, until I remember that the Blackthorn would have long since murdered everyone trying to sink him.”

Fen and her consort climbed into a palanquin. People continued to trickle past, but eventually Dalinar stood alone before the quiet temple.

“I’m sorry, Dalinar,” Taravangian said softly from behind. Dalinar turned, surprised to find the old man sitting on the steps. “I assumed everyone had the same information, and that it would be best to air it. I didn’t expect all of this.…”

“This isn’t your fault,” Dalinar said.

“And yet…” He stood up, then walked—slowly—down the steps. “I’m sorry, Dalinar. I fear I can no longer fight beside you.”

“Why?” Dalinar said. “Taravangian, you’re the most pragmatic ruler I’ve met! Aren’t you the one who talked to me about the importance of doing what was politically necessary!”

“And that is what I must do now, Dalinar. I wish I could explain. Forgive me.”

He ignored Dalinar’s pleas, limping down the stairs. Moving stiffly, the old man climbed into a palanquin and was carried away.

Dalinar sank down on the steps.

I tried my best to hide this, the Stormfather said.

“So we could continue living a lie?”

It is, in my experience, the thing men do best.

“Don’t insult us.”

What? Is this not what you’ve been doing, these last six years? Pretending that you aren’t a monster? Pretending you didn’t kill her, Dalinar?

Dalinar winced. He made a fist, but there was nothing here he could fight. He dropped his hand to his side, shoulders drooping. Finally, he climbed to his feet and quietly trudged up the stone steps to his villa.


Tags: Brandon Sanderson The Stormlight Archive Fantasy