Chapter Text
Adolin decided to stop by the ardentia. He had to admit, when he heard that Urithiru had been invaded he had been worried about a certain grouchy swordsman. He knew that Zahel could take care of himself but still . . .
He also had something very important he wanted to tell him. Lately, he had trouble being around his father without getting into a shouting match, and he had come to rely on Zahel’s advice, not just about swordsmanship, but about life in general.
Darkeyed workers lined the edges of the streets, repairing the broken cobblestones. Adolin smiled at them gratefully, and they bowed respectfully as he passed. He wanted to tell them that they didn’t have to, that they were probably more useful and important in the war effort than he was, but he also didn’t know how they would react to a prince whining about that.
Finally, Adolin reached Vasher’s room. Hesitantly, he knocked.
“Colors, it’s still early in the morning. Come in if you must.”
Zahel often said weird phrases like that. Did he find colors to be an insult? Personally, Adolin loved bright colors.
“Good Morning, Zahel.”
“Waddya want?” he groaned. He was probably hungover. Despite being an ardent, Zahel made it a habit to get as intoxicated as possible on a regular basis. Strangely enough, it never seemed to have long lasting help implications.
“I just wanted to ask you for advice about a few things. The first one is about Shardblades, and the second is . . . a more personal matter.”
Shallan hesitantly knocked on Jasnah’s door before pushing it open. The scholar was bent over her desk, scribbling furiously.
Shallan cleared her throat. “Hello Brightness.” When she first figured it out, she knew that she wanted to tell Jasnah first, before anyone.
Jasnah looked up at her, and was it her imagination, or did her violet eyes seem to settle on her stomach. “Is everything alright?”
Shallan beamed. “Everything’s fine. Everything’s more than fine! I’m pregnant.”
Jasnah blinked. “You and Adolin are having a baby?”
Shallan nodded vigorously.
“I see . . .” She walked over to her bookshelves and pulled a heavy tome onto her desk. It landed with a soft thud, and a cloud of dust erupted. It must have been a book Jasnah hadn’t read in a while.
She pulled three more books off the shelf and handed the stack to Shallan. “Read these four books and write a ten-page summary. The first one is a medical text on childbirth and the next three are on different philosophies for raising children.”
“Thank you, brightness?”
“And Shallan?” she added.
“Yes.”
“Congratulations. I know that you and Adolin will make great parents.”
“Thank you! You will get to be an Aunt!”
“I look forward to it,” Jasnah said, smiling softly before she returned to her research.
“So you haven’t tried to summon your Shardblade since your trip to Shadesmar.”
“No.” Adolin looked at the floor. “I don’t want to hurt Maya anymore than I already have.”
There was so much kindness in the boy. It always amazed Zahel that after all the wars Adolin had fought in, using knowledge that Zahel himself had taught him, he still had so much compassion.
It would probably be his downfall.
Still, Zahel wouldn’t tell him that. He had adopted a no-meddling policy ever since he returned to Roshar. He would let the events play out. Whenever he tried to help, he usually ended up making everything worse.
He thought of a young woman he had met, who had tried so hard to do what was best, but ended up making everything so much worse. At the time, he had thought himself so much smarter than her. Still, now the tables had turned. Vivenna had done some growing up, and it was painfully obvious that he was the immature one.
Anyway, he shouldn’t get distracted. When people asked Zahel questions, he usually answered. He didn’t play coy like Hoid. He said things like they were.
“This is an unprecedented situation. I have never seen anything like it before. My advice would be to go back into Shadesmar, when you have the chance, and ask Maya what she would like you to do.”
“I’ll try, but she doesn’t always talk to me.”
“I know, son. You’ll have to be patient. When somebody starts the process of healing, you need to give them space and the freedom to make their own decisions.”
“You're right.”
Zahel grunted.
“So . . . the other thing I wanted to tell you is . . .” Adolin shifted from side to side awkwardly.
“Spit it out boy.”
“Well, Shallan is pregnant, and I wanted to ask you for advice.”
Zahel was briefly dumbfounded. He hadn’t expected that. Why would the boy come to him of all people for fatherly advice?
“I don’t know if you have any children, but you have always been a father figure to me and Renarin. Sometimes you mysteriously disappear, but you never ignore people who come to you for help. Sometimes when my father would be in a very bad mood, I would come to practice dueling, because I knew that I would be safe here, with you.”
That was touching, but also a little concerning. It wasn’t a good sign when people came to rely on Zahel too much, he usually ended up betraying the people who trusted him.
Still, the boy was right. He didn’t ignore people when they asked him for help with something.
“I think that you need to raise your child to have strong morals. Not to follow a specific code, like Dalinar preaches,” he added, when he saw Adolin’s expression sour a bit, “but to be able to tell the difference between good and evil, and always try to do good in the world.”
Adolin nodded. He bowed. “Thank you, Zahel.”
“Eww. Don’t do that.” Zahel muttered, but Adolin pretended not to hear him.
“I know that I can always count on you.”
“Get out, I need to sleep.”
Adolin smiled and left, chuckling to himself.
True to his word, Zahel laid on his cot and closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. He found his thoughts drifting back to his past, to things better left forgotten.
He had a wife and child once. Things hadn’t exactly worked out well between them. He really hoped Adolin had enough sense not to screw this up.