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Chapter Text

Adolin’s calling was duelling. He was good at it, even if it wasn’t something that was officially run anymore, slowly going obsolete. His calling was not war. But he was good at that too.

He liked that he was good at duelling. He didn’t like that he was good at war. Still, that didn’t stop anyone from putting him on the battlefield.

Maya would later scold him for getting lost in deeper thought while practically beheading one Warform over another. Adolin couldn’t help it, all the killing became rote work at some point. It was disturbing, but that was better than relishing in it like the Thrill used to make people do. He could hate it and still be good at it.

And that was exactly why he didn’t notice his Cobalt Guard slowly getting trickled away from him. He caught it exactly as he saw the last remaining members of his Guard be overwhelmed then deliberately chased away until they completely cut off from Adolin—a Shardbearer who was apparently doing enough damage to be paid attention to.

He cursed. Maya cursed even more colourfully.

He became more alert, cutting through enemy lines with precision this time. But they saw the effort he was now making to get back to his men, and redoubled their efforts.

Adolin was fighting several at once now. He ducked under a swing meant to cut his throat, parried a blow from his side before he even straightened, leapt back from a lunge and dodged a stab just in time to get a Warhammer slammed straight into his side.

Even through the Shardplate, the blow knocked the breath out of him, making him stumble several steps back. Oh, that was going to hurt in the morning. A lightning pattern of lines spread outwards and immediately began leaking stormlight at a furious rate.

Sir! Sir! His armourspren called in alarm, trying to repair the damage at an equally furious rate.

To your right! Maya yelled.

Adolin got his sword up in Flamestance just in time to block an overhead blow, metal sliding against metal in a burst of sparks.

The hammer is coming again at your blind side.

Adolin didn’t get to see who she was talking about as he blocked a swipe at his exposed flank with a grunt. A crack of a spear hit the side of his head, snapping his neck in the other direction, dangerously close to his eye slit. More cracks appeared at the side of his vision and he blinked rapidly to chase away the stars in his eyes.

When he swung to the other side, all he got was the view of a massive Warform about to smash his skull in. Adolin rushed to block with his sword—or dodge backwards or roll to the side, not in time for anything.

The blow came but clumsily, like the aim had been thrown off at the last moment. Adolin blocked it, feeling the impact reverberate in his arms. The blow was still so forceful that a few cracks appeared in his vambrace.

After Adolin stabbed clean through another Singer’s gemheart did he manage to turn to see what had saved his life. And found Radiant fighting the Hammer straight on.

She’s good, I have to say, Maya whistled appreciatively.

“Learned from the best,” Adolin panted.

And the most humble.

Adolin didn’t get to help her. Radiant had somehow cut through the lines but they were still getting surrounded and cornered. The Singers quickly congregated to fill the empty spot Radiant had left. Adolin used that weakness. He abandoned his own position to immediately attack the site where Radiant had come through, hoping to find weak spots in a line that hadn’t properly reformed yet.

He cut, he swung, he parried and dodged and blocked, and at one point even physically broke off with his plated hand the carapace of a Warform who had tried to overwhelm him from behind. No matter how many he cut down, more seemed to come from seemingly nowhere.

He didn’t even get the time to see their position in the battlefield, why all the Singers were suddenly interested in beheading them all of a sudden. But he suspected that with a Shardbearer and a Radiant surrounded together, it was too good an opportunity to pass up crowding on them and taking both down at once.

At one point, he saw his Cobalt Guard trying to fight their way in from the outside, but the size of a literal small army between them was too great, and they had to keep fighting enemies from behind as well. Adolin tried to signal to them, but he was too busy keeping his head on his shoulders.

He backed up slowly until he was back to back with Radiant, plate clinking together.

“How’s it holding up on your side?” he asked, panting.

“You can say I took care of the Warhammer,” came Radiant’s stoic voice.

“See any way out?” he asked. Then stepped forward to launch a spear thrown at him away with his sword before she could reply, so he turned to repeat himself.

“Do you-“

“Heavenly One!” Radiant interrupted.

Adolin leapt back with Shardplate enhanced legs just in time for a long lance to bury itself in the ground where his head had been a moment ago. Radiant blocked another lance with two Shardblades crossed together around it, but almost took off to the sky with the Fused when he retracted his lance. Radiant stumbled back, ducked around a Warform’s swing and stabbed him through the shoulder without looking in his direction, eyes still trained on the Fused flying ahead, who was trying to look for an opening to attack from above amongst the clatter of soldiers. It was absolute chaos.

Adolin let Radiant cover his flank.

Ready, Maya, he said.

Then with his eyes locked on the target, breath steady, he slid one foot back for balance and launched his blade in the sky. Maya shot straight through and stabbed the flying Heavenly One in his back, narrowly missing the gemheart but taking him down. Then summoned Maya back just in time to block a sword.

He shifted to Stonestance, bringing his other hand up, ready to—

Something slammed into him from above and tackled him backwards. Adolin rolled several times on the ground, ears ringing as he struggled to determine up from down. Even as old instincts kicked in and he rolled to his knees, head swimming. He looked up to see a Fused flying up, then turning back to attack again, lance held ready. Another one was flying close by, obviously coming to help.

Adolin stood up, this time ready. He fell into stance as the Heavenly One charged straight at him. It was a disconcerting sight, their long robes fluttering behind them, lances twice longer than their bodies. He’d never get used to seeing something like this as normal. Adolin brought his sword up, training against aerial attacks taking over.

The Heavenly One twisted the lance in the air and brought it down to stab at him. Adolin moved to block, ready to dodge the strike of the other one who was coming from behind. He shifted his feet, squared his shoulders, raised Maya and—

The Heavenly One froze in the air inches away from him. A silvery-white spear protruded from his chest, his eyes burned out black. The spear retreated, dropping the Fused like a fly.

Adolin froze momentarily in shock. Then grinned. He didn’t get to catch the sight of him, quickly twisting on the ground to dodge the attack of the other Heavenly One.

He blocked a strike and slashed wildly in the air, but it was difficult to catch an enemy who could just fly back to dodge his attacks. He didn’t have to.

Kaladin swooped from above in a shower of glowing mist. A sharp ring carried in the air as spear met lance, steel met steel. Kaladin took on the Heavenly One Adolin had been struggling against a moment ago, and took on another one that came from behind.

Adolin focused his attention to Radiant, who was fighting against the ground enemies alone. He rushed to cover her blind spots, trusting Kaladin to take care of the sky.

At least they didn’t have to worry about death from above.

Wrong. Adolin looked up. And his stomach dropped as he saw tens of Heavenly Ones flying straight towards Kaladin. He saw other Windrunners rushing to help, stopping a few Fused but most focused their attention to Kaladin, as if he’d personally wronged them somehow.

More Windrunners charged and it was like his personal Damnation unfolding just above him. Windrunners fighting Heavenly Ones a mere few feet up his head. But Adolin kept his attention on the ground, cutting and slicing his way through towards Radiant.

The intervention of the Heavenly Ones might have actually saved them in this case. But it was too early to hope.

There were ten fools of the Almighty. By the time Kaladin would be done with this battle, he’d have invented ten more kinds just based on the series of truly bad decisions he kept making.

He dodged a long slash from a lance by Lashing himself sideways sharply, then twisted out of the way of another spear he felt coming at his back. He barely had time to attack back, dodging and blocking one Fused after another. The Windrunners were trying to help, falling into formation around him naturally, and were perhaps the sole reason he wasn’t already dead. But the Fused were clearly focused on him alone.

Because he was an idiot.

Now, don’t be too hard on yourself, Syl said as he twisted her spear form in the air, blocking a strike from his left then stabbing at a Fused in front—missing narrowly. You’ve certainly done stupider stuff before. So this isn’t even the worse.

Is that supposed to help? he called back, barely having breath to waste to say it out loud.

He took a hit from behind at his shoulder, making him lurch forward in the air. Cracks of white light spread on his armour from the spot but thankfully it wasn’t big enough to have started losing significant stormlight.

I think so, Syl said.

Thanks, then, he said drily. He grunted as he blocked a slash with his spear, a long lance sliding off the length of his weapon, a shriek of metal against metal splitting the air.

You’re welcome, Syl replied primly.

The problem, was that he’d already been engaged with a fight against a group of Heavenly Ones before he’d noticed Singer soldiers surrounding a lone Shardbearer on the ground. Leshwi wasn’t in this battle and he clearly recognised these Fused to not be under her command, but all Heavenly Ones still had a high and mighty sense of honour and pride. So he still tried to uphold some sense of structure with them.

But then the next time he’d glanced off to his right, he found not just a Shardbearer but also a Radiant. Both getting surrounded together this time. And worse, they were his Shardbearer and Radiant.

So Kaladin had done something very foolish.

He’d left his own fight halfway. Obviously the Heavenly Ones didn’t move on to fight someone else other than him immediately. Obviously they didn’t like being ignored. So they chased him to bring the fight to him, now even more enraged than before.

If that wasn’t enough, something even more phenomenal happened.

Kaladin was getting overpowered, and quickly. A few Windrunners came to help. He saw Skar drive a spear through a Fused trying to come at Kaladin from the side. But it still wasn’t enough.

He’d just slashed a Heavenly One’s throat open when one jumped on him from behind, locking their arm around his neck. Kaladin gasped but didn’t let go of his Sylspear. Before he could twist it in the air and drive it back, the Heavenly One slumped and let go, then dropped to the ground.

Kaladin turned back to see Radiant from the ground, summoning her sword back from the dead Fused.

The other Fused liked that even less.

With the Shanay-im, he could predict what would anger them and what ticked them off. Their knowledge was a great source of strategy when preparing for any battle—something he had made sure to tell all the details of to Sigzil once before retiring, even if Sigzil documented everything already. With these Fused however, it was a bit more complicated. They had a sense of honour and a structure and hierarchy he could use, sure. But he could never know what he could suddenly do that would accidentally come across to them as him insulting the blood of their ancestors.

Like this, for instance, Radiant saving his life, but ultimately interrupting a fight between him and a Heavenly One who had obviously decided to go for a kill. In a way, these Fused were both simpler and more complicated.

The other Heavenly Ones immediately focused their attention from him to the ground, suddenly remembering why they’d come here in the first place, something Kaladin had been fighting to avoid this entire time.

He cursed and dove back down, the other Windrunners naturally following.

Kaladin, Syl said.

Kaladin slashed and thrust his spear forward, blocked a spear tip with his left vambrace, distantly noting the sense of alarm at this from his armourspren.

Kaladin.

He tipped his head back, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed in the eyes as he watched the flash of a lance pass inches above him. And used the momentum to Lash himself slightly down and cut through the carapace of his attacker, not doing any damage but knocking the Fused aside for him to focus on another one at his left.

Kaladin! Syl shouted.

“What?” he panted, feeling short of breath despite the stormlight taking his need to breathe away.

“Kaladin! To our West!” Drehy yelled from his side.

Kaladin turned, letting two Windrunners take his place to fight. He squinted his eyes, staring off into the distance. A small hill of stone, beyond which was the rising sun, now hung fully up the sky and—

. . .that wasn’t a hill. The stone moved, shifted, rose.

Glowing red eyes snapped open.

Kaladin cursed. A Thunderclast.

Your situation doesn’t look so good, Syl said.

You don’t say, he replied.

Syl ignored his sarcasm, which truly told him that his situation didn’t look good.

“We can take care of it,” Skar said, hovering at his side. “It’s still far enough from the battlefield.”

Kaladin stared at the huge, moving mound of rock and stone. Large skeletal form, ribs-like protrusions from the chest, up to thirty feet tall. But this one looked smaller, slower.

“We can’t take care of the Thunderclast and the battle both,” Kaladin commented, turning to the other side, staring Eastwards at the mountains beyond. He tilted his face slightly to narrowly avoid a stray lance thrown his way, the steel tip still whizzed past his cheek but stormlight healed the cut before he could even feel it.

“It looks smaller than usual. We can handle the Thunderclast. The Windrunners can focus on it while the ground forces handle the fight.”

Kaladin narrowed his eyes at the hills, the way the ground seemed to slant downwards beyond them. His eyes tracked the mass of soldiers fighting on the ground, to Adolin and Radiant, then back towards those hills. He couldn’t see beyond them, but the mountains seemed to circle around behind them instead.

What are you thinking? Syl asked.

Something foolish, he replied.

Syl seemed to like that a lot, the way her spear form pulsed with light in his hand.

He glanced towards Skar, who was fighting a Fused but clearly waiting on his word. Kaladin wasn’t their Highmarshal anymore. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, fighting. He’d been retired temporarily. But his case was more. . .complicated. He didn’t stay off the field completely, but his responsibilities were not the same as before.

His men would follow any command he gave though. He knew they would. There was not a single doubt about it in his mind.

This fight, he’d joined only because both Shallan and Adolin were joining the campaign. Adolin joined every campaign he could. Kaladin didn’t know why Shallan had joined—something about Radiant wanting battle experience, an excuse he only half believed. Radiant was on par with all of them by now. He looked down at them now, fighting back to back with a familiarity that spoke of hours of coordinated practice. Kaladin had been worried—not that he would ever admit it—but now he didn’t think he was doing any better than they were already handling. Still, they were getting overwhelmed badly. Adolin’s Cobalt Guard had reached him, and they were still having trouble.

He looked to the rest of the battlefield. Death and violence everywhere from both sides. A reminder of why he’d left in the first place. No matter how many Kaladin saved, war made sure the numbers never dropped.

Still, if that Thunderclast made it to the battlefield it would be impossible to drop it without tens of casualties.

He looked Eastward again desperately.

“I know you’re planning something, Kal. But we’re losing a bit of time here. No urgency though,” Skar called to him mid fight.

The Thunderclast was slower because of it’s small size, but it was still making it’s way straight here and it was almost upon them. Kaladin looked to the Windrunners.

He needed to trust his men more. He needed to learn to share responsibility. And he needed to be where he was most needed.

But right now, he was thinking of doing something foolish.

“Yes,” Kaladin said. “You can handle the Thunderclast.”

For all Windrunners combined, it would be pretty easy. All Windrunners except one.

Because when that Thunderclast fell, by-standing soldiers would get caught. That was the bigger problem with those beasts. When one toppled a mountain, it crushed those beneath it. The more reasonable strategy was to drive the Thunderclast away from the population and the mass of soldiers in the battlefield and then kill it—something the Windrunners were perfect for.

But Kaladin saw the way the Heavenly Ones and the Singers had formed a second small battlefield around the soldiers fighting near Adolin and Radiant. The way the Heavenly Ones hovered close despite the few not actually fighting.

And then it clicked.

The Heavenly Ones under Leshwi’s command would have never tried something so dirty—but something so cleverly efficient.

Distract and block the view of the ground troops by crowding Fused, then drop a Thunderclast upon them at the last unsuspecting minute while the Windrunners were busy trying not to get overwhelmed.

It was deceitful, it was conniving and completely unsporting. But it was effective.

He gave one last look to the hills on the opposite side, a plan forming in his head. The path that looked like it cut into a valley.

Well, if the Fused were bringing a Thunderclast to the battlefield. . .

Then Kaladin would just take the battlefield away from them.

Chapter Text

Adolin didn’t know where Shallan was, but he kept fighting. That was not because he couldn’t see her, but on the account of the fact that he could see too many of her. Radiant had finally decided that this wasn’t a battle to be won by traditional fighting methods, and had given the field to Shallan.

Half of the battlefield around him was filled with illusions of people he’d never seen before fighting on his wife’s behalf.

It was ridiculous. And a little bit terrifying, he had to say.

Still, his burden wasn’t lessened that much. The illusions could fight, but that was all they were: illusions. They couldn’t kill—only distract.

A terrifying Warform, crackling with voidlight forced him down on one knee. Adolin kept his sword up, holding his enemy back, grunting with the effort.

A burst of white light fell a few feet away, like a shower of the stars themselves. Adolin blinked, sweat dripping down his brow, and was only able to see a powerful glowing swipe, leaving an afterimage of stormlight in it’s wake. And then the head of the Warform was dropping to the ground sideways with the body following a delayed moment later.

A strong hand hauled him up from the ground by his arm.

“Get up,” Kaladin said, “we’re getting out of this battlefield.”

Adolin panted and pressed his back to Kaladin’s, feeling a strange flux of emotions at having him with him side by side. Kaladin fought in the sky. It had been so long since he and Adolin were back to back like this.

“I don’t think those guys are going to like that,” Adolin said, jutting his chin towards the flying Heavenly Ones circling above them like hoards of cremlings on an already dead body.

He tried to ignore the heat of Kaladin’s body bleeding into his plate somehow. Kaladin’s Shardplate—made of his windspren—had a way of transferring touch that Adolin always found fascinating, thrumming with energy and alive.

Kaladin followed his line of sight and grinned, actually grinned. There was a little something insane about it. Adolin couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Actually, they’re coming with us,” Kaladin said.

Adolin didn’t understand what that meant but found himself grinning back, feeling equally insane.

“It’s your lead,” he said.

Kaladin nodded. “Find Shallan. Tell her to find a path that cuts through those hills, I know there’s a valley beyond. I’m going to do something stupid. When I fly close, dismiss your plate. And stay ready to be airborne.”

With that, Kaladin was gone, leaving only a glowing mist in his wake as he shot to the sky. Adolin’s eyes followed him despite the danger of being distracted in the middle of a fight, trusting Maya to to pull him out of it if needed. He saw Kaladin fly a calculated trajectory, barging through a fighting Windrunner and a Heavenly One, causing the Fused to follow in rage at having gotten interrupted. Then did the same with several others.

The Windrunners were confused but held back when they saw it was Kaladin, letting him do whatever he needed. They quickly regrouped elsewhere, however, flying Westward for some reason towards something Adolin couldn’t see.

Kaladin quickly amassed an army of Heavenly Ones on his tail, looking like he was about to be surrounded at any given moment. Adolin wasn’t sure how he hadn’t already, perhaps because the Fused seemed too enraged and driven crazy by the clear challenge to try working together.

Then Kaladin did something even more mad. What he had clearly meant by “something stupid”.

He cut a sharp turn and began flying straight to the ground, the Heavenly Ones following a delayed moment later. Kaladin landed on the ground, summoned Syl and thrust his spear in the back of an already injured Heavenly One who had been stumbling back up as he healed. The Fused’s eyes burned out and he fell back to the ground.

Adolin actually saw the Heavenly Ones in the air pausing collectively in shock at that. And he clearly didn’t need to see the enraged frenzy that followed to know this was exactly what Kaladin was planning. Why he’d done something so wild was beyond Adolin, but he decided to just go with it.

I have to say, that’s brilliant, Maya said as if just realising it. Insanely foolish. But brilliant.

Adolin didn’t know what Maya meant by that but he said anyway: I’ll let him know you think so highly of him.

You should probably stop ogling like a fish out of water. You’re still in the middle of a fight.

Adolin flushed. He’d completely lost track of everything watching Kaladin fly. He could hardly be blamed. The Heavenly Ones had a graceful flight, but Kaladin darted in the sky like a windspren himself, with crazy speed and complicated manoeuvres that made Adolin dizzy just to watch. He didn’t get to often watch him fight in the sky, too often busy himself.

Right, find Shallan .

He looked around and began running in the vague direction of where he could see her illusions fighting, cutting through Listener forms in the way. His Honour Guard followed a bit of a distance away, keeping him from getting surrounded. But they couldn’t move away too far without getting overwhelmed again.

Adolin didn’t get to see Kaladin again. He just had to hope bridgeboy knew what he was doing. Which Adolin was absolutely sure he did. He still worried though.

He roved his eyes over every version of his wife could see, some so close that he actually ran in the direction of a few before something gave away that they were not real and he redirected his sprint. Almighty, Shallan was good. When did she get this better?

Adolin stopped and looked around.

There.

He smiled. There was his wife. He didn’t know how he knew. He just did. It was a feeling, like a tug in his chest, that made him wonder how anyone could ever mistake her illusions for the real thing.

He ran straight for her, one half of his mind back to Kaladin when he caught sight of where the Windrunners had been going.

Taln’s helm! How had he missed an entire Thunderclast until now? His view had been completely blocked by the Heavenly Ones crowding in the sky that he hadn’t noticed until Kaladin got their attention instead.

It suddenly became clear what Kaladin was doing. He was distracting the Fused so the rest of the Windrunners could fight the Thunderclast instead.

But why go all the way beyond those hills?

He didn’t know. Neither did he care. He trusted Kaladin. Enough to hand his life over to him. He’d have done anything Kaladin asked of him. Something that didn’t surprise him as much as it should logically have.

You’re an absolute goner, aren’t you? Maya said.

Adolin didn’t know what that meant either, but he didn’t have the time to think about it.

Because he caught sight of a Magnified One off in the distance, eyes locked on Shallan where she was fighting. Adolin felt his blood chill. The Fused was only watching yet, making no move of advancing.

Still, Adolin quickened his pace, feeling dreadfully slow despite the miles of distance his plate enhanced legs must be eating up. Everything depended on him being fast enough.

Shallan had started feeling herself wavering, drifting, getting lost when she’d seen Adolin running straight for her. It was like all of her selves saw him at once, but Adolin had been coming for her. The real her.

How had he known? When not even Shallan herself knew sometimes.

No matter. At least not for now. What Adolin had told her to do had immediately taken her attention off the fact that she wanted to pull his helm off and kiss him right there.

Now Radiant waited for Pattern to return, fighting with Testament alone. She hadn’t used Testament alone in a while and she felt her spren pulse in time with her heart. Testament didn’t speak as much as Pattern, but Shallan liked her presence just as much, now that she could hold her without either Shallan or Testament herself go to pieces.

Adolin fought at her back, covering for her. That’s when Radiant caught sight of two things at once. That Thunderclast off in the West and the Windrunners fighting it, distracting it from the main battlefield; and Kaladin flying straight towards them in a stream of light with a small army of Heavenly Ones glowing with purple voidlight at his tail.

It was like damnation being led by the heralds themselves straight towards the two of them.

Shallan panicked, coming at the forefront as Radiant gave way.

Pattern! she called.

Storms, Kaladin was almost upon them. She saw Adolin notice as well, and he dismissed his plate immediately. Shallan did the same. The fighting Warforms were confused by the sudden abandonment of their defence but pounced upon the opportunity with full vigour.

“I found it! Mm, I can lead you there, Shallan,” Pattern buzzed happily at the ground near her. “And it’s only three thousand two hundred and seventy four meters away!”

Shallan heaved a sigh of relief.

Just in time to be snatched from the ground. A very undignified yelp from Adolin thankfully drowned out her own and she held on desperately despite the fact that she knew Kaladin would never drop her.

Kaladin didn’t have time to slow down for them. Usually he did, going only a fraction of his usual speed when travelling with others. Shallan knew this now because she was just realising how fast he could actually go.

She was going to throw up. But she was busy noticing how the world blurred around her at such speed. She was sure she could think of some painting technique that could capture the feeling of everything rushing past her at such a dizzying height.

Keep focused, Radiant reminded her.

“Pattern said there’s two bends around that hill that meet up on the other side,” she yelled above the rush of wind. Well, Pattern didn’t technically say it, but she had ways of communicating what he could perceive.

Kaladin grunted, and somehow even through the roar of wind in her ears, she heard him perfectly over it. She tightened her grip around him, seeing Adolin doing the same. Adolin had his face burrowed in Kaladin’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.

Shallan suddenly felt the urge to do the same. And not just for her fear of heights.

She flushed, but pressed closer around him all the same, feeling not even a taste of shame. If Kaladin noticed or was flustered, he was too busy keeping all three of them alive to show it.

Shallan risked a peep behind and her heart sank in fear. The Fused were just behind them. One of them reached with a hand and Shallan was sure he was going to grab Kaladin’s leg and drag them behind, then tear them all to pieces. But Kaladin must have noticed as well, because he gritted his teeth and went even faster, narrowly missing.

But then a single Fused managed to gain speed, and others followed behind. A few were flying on their direct right, quickly gaining on them. One of them slashed with a blade and Kaladin lurched sideways, barely managing to dodge. Adolin—still gripping tightly to Kaladin—summoned Maya and slashed wildly in the air, managing to catch a few mid swing. But what really made them more cautious to approach again was the way Adolin threw his blade at them. It spun in the air several times and broke their line at the forefront, making them fall back again.

Kaladin bent his head lower and muttered too close to her ear: “make a Lightweaving of us going the opposite direction.”

Shallan jolted slightly, hoped he didn’t notice and immediately began to work. Kaladin changed directions abruptly at the same time and her stomach flipped nauseatingly inside her. She held back a sound, whether a scream or a gag she didn’t know. Storms, how did Kaladin do this all the time?

But it worked. Half of the Heavenly Ones paused and went after the false version of themselves Shallan had conjured up mid flight. She’d been afraid her work wouldn’t be convincing enough considering how distracted she was and also had no way of seeing what they looked like at the moment from an outside perspective. Despite their numbers having broken up, there were still a lot of Fused on their tail. So Shallan did it again.

“No,” Kaladin said, “we still want them distracted by us. They can’t go back to the battlefield.”

That was fair. Because the moment those Heavenly Ones caught up to her Lightweavings and saw they were false, or her illusions just disappeared once they went far enough away from her, the Fused would quickly realise they’d been fooled.

They quickly approached the hills and their speed made Shallan wonder if they’d even be able to turn in time. Her heart picked up again, thudding against her ribs. What if they never stopped? What if they crashed straight into it?

By the surprised yell from Adolin, he’d gotten to the same idea. Still, Kaladin didn’t stop, didn’t slow.

It was too late. They would never be able to—the momentum alone would—

“Kaladin!” Adolin yelled in his ear. “Kal—“

Kaladin made a sharp turn, almost at what Shallan was sure was a ninety degrees angle. Her heart lurched to her throat and she found her vision swimming.

Still, she was conscious enough to know that Kaladin’s technique worked. The Heavenly Ones had millennia of more experience than him, but they weren’t as fast—and they were currently driven up a frenzy to realise any tricks. She also realised that Kaladin hadn’t made for one those bends she’d mentioned to him, but was instead going down.

“Another,” he said, voice strained.

Shallan could barely think through her head spinning sickly but she realised what he meant. She wanted to snap at him and ask if he thought making Lightweavings while holding on for dear life was so easy. But she knew none of them had any other choice, so she gritted through her dizziness and did so. Another version of them, which a few of the Fused started pointing at and following immediately, went the other direction. But Kaladin still kept flying downwards.

Before she could even wonder why or think enough to ask, their feet were already touching hard ground. Kaladin herded them inside a small alcove at the base of the rocky hills. Adolin immediately dropped to his knees, looking dizzy and a bit green. Shallan wobbled a few steps away, did the same, then hurled her stomach contents onto the nearest rockbud.

Kaladin stepped between them, panting puffs of glowing stormlight hard but otherwise not even looking winded. Shallan wanted to punch him for it—or something else. Something she wasn’t going to give voice to because she suddenly wished she had an excuse to hang onto him again. Syl twirled around his form in a ribbon of light.

Pattern tried to swirl curiously towards Shallan but she shooed him back before he could start asking questions about her stomach contents spilled on the ground instead of being where they belonged—that was, her stomach.

“Mm, Shallan. You’ve covered more than three-eighth of the distance, just five-eighth more to go!” Pattern said.

Shallan didn’t reply, because she did not   want to imagine flying like that again, not very good for her nausea. Kaladin looked like he wanted to give them some surgeon tip to help with it but clearly didn’t have time for it.

“You can’t stay here for long. They watched you come somewhere around here,” Syl said.

Kaladin grunted in agreement. “I’m going to catch their attention and go North. You two do the same and go South instead. We just need to hold on until that Thunderclast goes down.”

“And then what?” she snapped.

“Then we do the best we can,” Adolin said, wiping his mouth and getting up unsteadily, one hand braced to the wall.

Kaladin nodded. “We hide until the Windrunners take care of the rest.”

That wasn’t very honour-esque of them but Adolin nodded back. He stepped forward and clasped a hand with Kaladin, then pulled him in for a hug that Kaladin looked very surprised for but returned.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Adolin muttered over his shoulder, “see you on the other side.”

Shallan watched them intently, a half thought forming in her head as they stepped away reluctantly. Adolin’s hand twitched as if wanting to reach forward but then clenched into a fist instead. Kaladin nodded, jaw clenched against something he looked like he wanted to say. Adolin summoned Maya again, then his plate, gave a look to both Kaladin and Shallan and stepped outside, using the rocks to hide his position until he wanted to have it given away.

Shallan moved to follow after him, but then paused, turning back. Kaladin nodded at her to go along.

Shallan stomped up to him instead. Kaladin’s shoulders tightened as if bracing himself for a punch, but he didn’t step back before her. Shallan fisted her hands in his collar and pulled him down.

Kaladin made a surprised sound down his throat. Shallan drowned it out with a kiss.

Kaladin froze beneath her touch.

Everything came crashing back at her, and she realised what she’d just done. Still, she was reluctant to let go. She was about to pull back, think of some clever insult that would stun him into speechlessness, give her just enough time to dash away and leave him confused before she could be made to confront her actions. But then Kaladin’s hands settled onto her shoulders as if he didn’t know where else to place them, as if he didn’t know whether to pull her in or push her away.

Kaladin made another sound, though this time far from surprised and Shallan was deepening the kiss. Kaladin’s hands spasmed on her shoulders, then tightened and pulled her back.

Shallan immediately missed the warmth of his lips and suppressed a protesting whine. Kaladin looked dazed as they parted, watching her with wide eyes and a flush on his cheeks.

Then his expression turned horrified and he looked past her to the entrance of the alcove. Shallan turned back, but no one was there.

“Shallan, you. . .we can’t— I’m sorry, I-“ Kaladin stammered, looking increasingly mortified, finally stepping back slightly.

Shallan’s first response was to make fun of it, live it down, make light of the situation, act as if it was nothing big then pretend nothing ever happened again. It’s what she would have done in the past. It’s what she had done several times in the past with Kaladin, leaving him confused and hurt until he built the distance between them himself, but she’d never gone this far.

This time though, she sucked in a steeling breath.

“Yes we can, we just did,” she said.

“ Adolin—“

“Adolin won’t be mad,” Shallan interrupted him, before he could go down the guilty spiral, ignoring the twist in her own heart. “I’ll tell him the truth, I promise. Trust me, Kaladin. He’ll understand.” She placed a hand over his arm. Kaladin stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“You did nothing wrong. We’ll talk about this later.”

Please, just accept that, she pleaded mentally. Because she didn’t think she could talk about it now. She couldn’t tell him why she did it. She couldn’t tell him what the truth was. She needed time to think about what to say.

Kaladin was still watching her, face cycling through a series of expressions too fast for her to catch up and discern his thoughts before it settled onto something still a little dazed but thoughtful, mostly unreadable.

Radiant, take over! We need to be practical! Shallan panicked when Kaladin took a moment too long to respond. But before Radiant could reply or take over, Kaladin straightened slightly.

He still looked like he wanted to say something, but then he paused and made a slightly disgusted face, wiping his lips.

“You taste. . .not so good,” he said as if just realising it, looking like he was contemplating between touching his lips softly and wiping her taste off of him. She had just vomited on the floor a moment before this. Perhaps not very good timing for her first kiss with him, but she didn’t want to regret it.

Shallan grinned, settling into their usual rhythm easily. “That was revenge for making us fly like that all the way here.” She punched him lightly at his ribs, eliciting an oof from him. “Never do that again, you jerk.”

Kaladin rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.” Then his eyes darted back to the entrance, where Shallan could now hear the Fused from, flying around and calling out for each other, searching. They were close. But it didn’t sound like they’d spotted Adolin yet.

“You should go,” Kaladin said. “Adolin will be waiting.”

Another flash of that guilt passed across his features, but was quickly suppressed. Shallan paused just as she was about to step out and turned back one final time to look at him. Over the din of the enemies and the danger outside, she said: “by the way, that’s a very rude response to a lady as a follow up to a kiss.”

Kaladin huffed, lips twitching up and his shoulders loosened a fraction at her teasings.

“See you on the other side, Shallan,” he said softly.

Shallan didn’t respond, ducked her head and slipped outside, hastily sneaking her way towards the flash of that golden hair.

“Shallan,” Pattern hummed. “Was that mating? Did you break your oaths?”

Her heart twisted slightly, flush deepening at the choice of his words but the determined gait of her steps didn’t falter. “No, Pattern. I didn’t break any oaths,” she said firmly. “Because I intend to. . .revise our oaths a little. I’m sure Adolin would appreciate it, actually.”

Pattern didn’t say anything else, humming thoughtfully. Shallan reached Adolin behind a raised outcropping where he was hiding from a group of Fused up ahead, clearly waiting for her before pulling any bold moves. She knocked gently on the side of his helm until he dismissed it, giving her a smile.

Shallan leaned up and gave him a kiss for good measure, uncaring about anything else. Adolin had a similar response to Kaladin, though he took it in stride, kissing back, smiling at her again as they parted before he summoned his helm back. And if he tasted Kaladin on her, he didn’t say anything.

“I think there’s a Magnified One on our tail, but I can’t be sure,” Adolin said.

“We’ll handle it,” Shallan said with more confidence than she felt.

A Magnified One will be more trouble than you think, Radiant said, especially with the treacherous terrain and the Heavenly Ones above us.

We’ll handle it, Shallan repeated to her, which earned her a disapproving feeling from Radiant but she said nothing else.

Shallan summoned her own plate. Both of their heads darted up as they saw Kaladin’s figure shoot through a narrow opening into the sky, immediately catching the Heavenly Ones’ attention.

“Looks like that’s our cue,” he said as he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his blade.

They both stepped out of their flimsy shelter together.

A few of the Fused noticed them and raised the call to others, stopping a few that were still about to chase behind Kaladin. Shallan hoped they could actually handle it as confidently as she’d spoken.

Because she had a few truths to say to her boys.

Time to get to work.

Chapter Text

In hindsight, Shallan could definitely think of this as her fault. But if she went down that spiral, there were several other things she could think of as her fault. Which was pretty unproductive to do when she was busy holding off a literal Fused in direct combat. And that was exactly why Radiant should have been the one doing the fighting, but Shallan stayed in control, forcing her thoughts to the present.

Still, when she’d caught glimpse of a Shardbearer with his trademark blue plate, separated from his Honor Guard, getting surrounded by a small army of Fused, instead of rushing to make her way over to help and succeeding in getting both of them surrounded together, she should have found additional help from her Lightweavers hanging on the edge of the battle instead.

But this was war. In a battle, no one had time to wait around for incoming aid. And no one had time to provide said aid in the din of fighting either. Except Shallan, of course.

And Kaladin. He’d apparently gotten the same idea as her, and had swooped in from above, forcing the Fused to break formation. Before a few Heavenly Ones had gotten the memo and come to distract him instead and soon it had all dissolved into chaos. Right up until the Thunderclast showed up.

So, Shallan and Adolin had been pressed back to back, their plate clinking, trying their best not to get surrounded. At least they didn’t have to worry about any aerial attacks.

But the problem was, instead of backing off, the presence of one Shardbearer and two Radiants had, for some reason, only encouraged the Fused. Until Shallan was sure they could only survive if they found a place to escape from and quickly.

Which she had, choosing to fight with Testament alone and dismissing Pattern so his spectral form could lead the way. As if their luck could get any worse, however, instead of finding others in the battlefield to get busy with, the Fused had chosen to follow.

Kaladin’s plan had been good. To use the rocky landscape and hills to try to split the Fused forces. Divide and Conquer. They’d fought their way through. Then met back around the back of the hills after they’d separated.

Which brought the three of them to this plain field of grass that opened up behind a hill, cut off from their own army. But at least so were the handful of Fused that were still on their trail. Maya had informed Adolin that the Thunderclast had been defeated right up until recently. Which had been a breath of relief for all of them, but they were yet to lose the few persistent Fused that didn’t let them escape.

Now, Shallan fought against a Magnified One in direct combat. She was the only one on the ground. Kaladin had Lashed Adolin to the sky at some point, to save him from a swooping Heavenly One and then left him there to fight against him as Kaladin engaged the other two. Adolin, for his part, was doing far better fighting at that dizzying height there than Shallan would have. The Heavenly Ones, with their ability to fly, had been trickier to elude, but at least they’d gotten rid of the several dozens or so Warforms.

A crack of carapace against metal. Shallan gritted her teeth from the effort of holding off the extended blade the Fused had grown from it’s own carapace. She tried to back off instead of pushing with pure force—in terms of physical strength, Magnified Ones were far bigger, bulkier and stronger than other Fused; hence, the name: ‘Magnified Ones’. The Fused didn’t let her though. Still with their blades locked together in a fight for control, he grew the carapace jutting from the back of his wrist to suddenly extend longer, trying to stab her with it. Shallan leapt back just in time to miss it, heart racing.

In direct combat like this, she couldn’t hope to use her illusions effectively except for momentary distractions that didn’t last long—and didn’t last at all against a clever Fused such as this who’d grown careful of her tricks.

He came for her again. Shallan thrust the stormlight raging in her veins into action; a figure of Radiant appeared on the direct right of the Fused, slashing with her sword. The Fused flinched out of instinct. Shallan struck. She managed to slash quite close to the gemheart, but that thick armour of carapace held off even her Shardblade. The Fused howled in pain, red eyes flashing in anger. He kicked her back before she could get another shot. Shallan coughed out blood, stormlight already healing her broken ribcage before she could even feel the impact. Her illusion of Radiant stepped in between her and the enemy, sword raised in challenge.

Instead, the Fused narrowed his eyes.

“You will watch.”

Shallan jolted, the figure of Radiant disappearing in a puff of stormlight in her shock. The Fused’s voice was gravelly and thick, but the accent was near perfect Alethi. She wasn’t expecting him to talk to her. They rarely did, not in their language at least. But at the moment the voice didn’t matter. Only the words did.

A cruel smirk played at his face as he watched Shallan piece it together. The expression felt foreign on that marbled skin of red and black and it brought a chill down Shallan’s spine. Before she could parse what the words meant, the Fused turned. And brought out a long dagger. The blade should have gleamed in the sunlight. Instead it warped the air around it, a chillingly familiar violet glow emanating from it’s length.

Shallan’s heart dropped to her stomach. Pattern hummed nervously in her mind.

Shallan! Be careful. I don’t like this.

She didn’t need to be told that. At first she thought the Fused would come for her again with that blade. Then she followed his line of sight. And her heart stopped.

Adolin was still engaged with a Heavenly One in the air. Kaladin soared towards Adolin to help, twin Heavenly Ones dropping dead in a flutter of long robes from where he’d been fighting himself a moment ago.

Kaladin had made it halfway towards Adolin, Syl flickering around his form, when the Magnified One in front of Shallan brought his hand back in a clear posture to throw the knife.

The world slowed around Shallan, her vision narrowed across that blade cutting through the air.

“No!” she yelled, her own voice muffled in her ears through the roar of blood.

Then she was moving without fully knowing it. The Fused arced his hand as he stepped forward to launch the blade. Shallan roared and slashed at his arm, cutting through carapace with her blade, sword meeting flesh and—

Too late.

The blade shot through the air like an arrow sprung from a bow. Shallan had hoped to at least throw his aim off. But too late, too late, too late— No!

It all happened in a split second, a fraction of a moment. A shrill sound rang in her ears. Her eyes followed the dagger progress through the air with helpless horror. Surely the blade won’t make it that far, that high up. Kaladin would see it. Adolin would see it. They would dodge—they would. They had to.

“Kaladin!” Shallan shouted in alarm, but her voice was stolen by the wind.

Kaladin was still flying rapidly towards Adolin. The Heavenly One left Adolin to go engage with Kaladin instead, soaring to meet him halfway. Kaladin couldn’t make it any further, however. The blade struck.

Shallan could see it. See the sickening moment in which Kaladin lurched sideways, thrown off his route of flying at the impact. See the exact moment his Lashings must have failed him, as his momentum stuttered mid air.

He hung suspended in the air for one breathless moment. Then he began arcing his way down, body going limp.

Adolin followed a few minutes later, arms flailing in the air from shock. Whatever Lashings Kaladin had made that were holding him up there failing as Kaladin’s stormlight fluttered weakly, then died completely.

She ran a few steps forward out of instinct, halting to watch again.

“KALADIN!”

Her own voice cut through the roar in her ears, reality rushing back with sickening clarity, the slowing of time snapping back into focus.

Both of her worlds. Crumbling before her.

Kaladin had almost made it to the ground. The usual graceful Windrunner who commanded gravity now fallen prey to it.

Just as she was sure it was all over, Kaladin’s body jerked slightly in the air, still falling, but rhythm stuttering in an awkward heap. He twisted in the air— still alive!— movements uncoordinated and lacking all his usual grace. Though Shallan wasn’t sure on that alive part for too long.

Then just as the ground was a mere few feet away, Kaladin began arcing his way up in a painfully slow loop.

Shallan released a breath that was half shocked laugh, eyes wide as she watched his progress up in a wobbly parabola. The danger was still not aborted. Adolin was still plummeting. Kaladin was far enough away that there was a chance he wouldn’t reach in time.

Was she wrong? Had the blade not been made of anti-light? Had past fears and experiences made her see the distinctive warp around it when there was none? Kaladin was still flying up. He couldn’t have done that had he been struck by anti-light. It must have been an ordinary blade. She certainly hoped so. They couldn’t—

A flicker from the corner of her eye. Shallan leapt sideways. A line of fire licked along her collarbone, dangerously close to her artery, before she felt the warmth of blood swelling up. Shallan cried out in pain, pressing a hand to her chest, watching her own blood drip down the tip of the blade jutting out from the skin of the Magnified One’s arm as stormlight rushed to heal the long, deep cut.

Radiant forced the stormlight to stop the healing halfway, instead choosing to conserve stormlight. She focused her attention on the enemy in front, forcing herself not to turn and watch Kaladin and Adolin falling through the air, even as her stomach twisted in fear.

She held her blade up. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. The Heavenly One was still up there, but it had halted in shock in the air when Kaladin had been struck. And instead of going for the kill, it had stayed up for some reason, watching them fall. Radiant just had to hope Kaladin would reach Adolin in time. She left that part to him, unable to do anything about it in time.

The Magnified One rushed forward. Radiant moved to meet his attacks.

Kaladin’s world was a blur of pain and Syl screaming in his head. But his mind was locked on one thing. Adolin. He tried to move faster and bit back a cry, failing to do so. Syl’s screaming intensified in his ears. He’d taken out the blade in his side mid fall, ignoring every surgeon instinct within him to never remove an invasive weapon from your body to try to get rid of the chill that had cut through his soul. Wind bit at his skin harshly, cutting through his fluttering cloths. Something felt distinctly wrong.

He didn’t have time for it. He reached Adolin’s flailing form, thrusting an arm forward to try to catch him. But his movements were uncoordinated, clumsy. He wasn’t sure if he was flying under Lashings or falling himself.

Adolin tried to reach his hand but missed completely, yelling something at him Kaladin couldn’t hear. Syl was still screaming.

Kaladin roared, pushing himself forward as he locked his hand around Adolin’s forearm, pulling to wrap his arms firmly around the prince’s body.

He didn’t know if it meant much. They were still plummeting to their deaths, the ground rushing up eagerly to meet them. Kaladin could try twisting in the air so he could take the brunt of the impact but it wouldn’t mean much for Adolin, who would still get significantly injured nonetheless.

With a yell of defiance, Kaladin pushed all the stormlight he could still feel the faint flicker of inside his body to form a single Lashing. They jerked to a halt in the air, the ground mere inches away.

Kaladin felt something snap inside him, something tore at him. He cried out sharply, vision going white as something ripped inside.

The Lashing gave out immediately. They tumbled the rest of the way down, but the brief stop in the air had broken their fall, so it wasn’t life threatening anymore.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Kaladin tightened his grip around Adolin through the haze of his disorientation. He was vaguely aware of hitting the ground together, tumbling across the plains. Kaladin felt more than heard something crack beneath him, but he couldn’t discern in the chaos whether the sound belonged to his own body or not.

They rolled across the ground, momentum tearing them apart from each other. Kaladin spun a few times before coming to a rest on his side, planting a palm on the ground to keep from turning over again, gasping for breath as nausea churned inside him, the wind knocked out of his lungs several times as they burned from exertion.

He turned slowly to lay on his back, panting and shaking, vision greying at the edges as he stared at the sky ahead, watching with mute disconnect as he felt his life drain away from his body.

That Heavenly One was still up there, watching them—

Kaladin tried to reach for stormlight to heal his side, but encountered a strangely firm resistance instead. He panicked slightly, wondering why he couldn’t breathe it in, trying harder. If that Fused came down upon them like this—

Syl hovered above his vision, blocking his view of that Fused, wide eyed with worry as she yelled something at him. The next time he blinked, the Heavenly One was gone.

Kaladin felt a strong sense of relief at her presence, unable to remember why through the haze of his shock. He tried to raise his hand to touch her but his fingers barely twitched on the ground. He tried to pull stormlight again, but from Syl’s vague shouting he got the weird sense that she wanted him not to. So he let out the breath he was holding. It hurt too much to hold it anyway.

His body felt so heavy, like a Lashing was still physically holding him down from the inside.

His eyes felt so heavy too. He blinked slowly, vision tunnelling, and then Adolin was there, kneeling beside him, one hand on his shoulder. Kaladin tried to focus on the feeling of his hand, trying to ground himself. But Adolin’s panicked blue eyes were swimming in front of Kaladin’s vision, going in and out of focus.

“—ay with me. Kaladin, stay with me! Please. . . ”

“. . . on’t close your eyes, Kal. Keep fighting. . .”

He was so tired. He didn’t want to keep fighting. He wanted to let go. But Adolin’s voice was so worried and Syl was still trying to keep him awake. He tried to push through the haze. He really did.

If he could just banish the unnatural coldness spreading through his entire body, the one that had taken over him the moment that blade went in, he could just—

Adolin pressed a shaky hand to the wound in his side—

A white-hot lance of pure agony cut through the fog that spiked through his soul . Kaladin gasped, back arching slightly at the sheer amount of burning pain.

The world went white.

Then darkness. The blessed relief of unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Shallan burst open the door with a kick, her hands occupied with both of her blades. She rushed in, turning to wave Adolin inside. Adolin followed shortly on her heels, practically dragging Kaladin along, who was draped over his shoulder, head lolling against his neck.

“In here, quick,” she gestured as she closed the door behind him once Syl flew in.

“He shouldn’t have—“ Syl gasped, fluttering around in anxious circles. “He shouldn’t— he used stormlight— it should have killed him— it will kill him—“

“Syl, Syl! Calm down!” Shallan hissed, trying to placate the spren through her own spiral of panic. It was disconcerting to see Syl like this. Shallan had never seen her lose control like this before.

“Help me lay him down,” Adolin grunted as he shifted Kaladin in his arms.

Kaladin let out a low groan, tensing slightly at the movement. The sound snapped Syl out of her hysteria and she flew to the side of Kaladin’s pale face, trying to shush him gently with her trembling voice.

“Shh, bridgeboy, I’ve got you,” Adolin muttered. He tried to manoeuvre Kaladin without hurting him further, which proved to be quite difficult. Adolin winced slightly as he shifted him. “Come on, bridgeboy. Work with me here.”

Shallan dismissed both Patternblade and Testamentblade and moved to take half of Kaladin’s weight off of Adolin. She took the legs, while Adolin shifted his hands under Kaladin’s arms and they gently lay him down on the bed. Syl flew in immediately, standing at the bed as a small woman.

Kaladin tensed again, his features twisting in pain as he let out a grunt. Adolin pressed a hand against his torso, beneath his ribs, grimacing at the warmth of his blood as he tried to staunch it.

“Pattern, keep an eye out,” Shallan said as she dug around in her meagre belongings to fish a spanreed out. She twisted the ruby head twice, flashing it. It connected to the trusted members of her Unseen Court. The sequence basically meant to call for whatever help they could, but in this case she made sure to specify she needed reinforcements and rescue—in case there were more Fused around on their tail. She hadn’t gotten the chance to warn them earlier, what with being chased by a literal battalion of enemy soldiers. How’d they’d manage to even lose them at all was beyond her.

Then she went around the other side of the bed to climb up, brushing Kaladin’s hair back from his forehead, where a sheen of sweat made them stick to his skin. She wiped a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with a thumb, but only managed to smudge more on his chin.

“Syl, the anti-light?” Adolin asked, worry evident in his voice. Syl shook her head at him quickly. “It’s not safe yet.”

Adolin cursed, taking off his torn coat in one swift motion—albeit more carefully around his left arm—to tear it’s sleeves into strips and create makeshift bandages. All the while Shallan kept a hand pressed against Kaladin’s stomach, heart lurching at the warmth bubbling beneath her palms. Adolin bundled a bandage up and pressed it against his side instead. Kaladin grunted again at the pressure, which made Shallan wince but she knew they couldn’t afford to let up even if it caused him pain. The bandage became soaked in his blood so alarmingly quick that it made her heart drop.

Kaladin groaned and turned his head into her touch. His jaw was clenched tight, brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut. He was taking shallow breaths through his gritted teeth. Shallan rubbed her thumb near his brow, smiling ruefully as they eased somewhat under her touch.

“Syl, how much longer?” Adolin broke her out of her thoughts. She looked up at the increased fear in his voice and sucked in a sharp breath. His hands were covered in blood, soaked up to his elbows, his shirt stained with so much of it that it was nauseating to see.

Kaladin’s blood.

“I don’t know. The blade was in him for a long time before it was taken out. The anti-light was strong. I still feel it’s effects.” Syl shivered visibly, her translucent form shifting with it. Shallan knew first hand how terrible those weapons felt, like a part of your soul being ripped away.

“Shal, more bandages?” Adolin muttered distractedly.

Shallan got up, handing him more strips of his coat. Then tore the hem of her skirts to produce more cloth. Adolin had both hands pressed against his wound now. One of his arms was notably swelling but Shallan didn’t comment on it. She had her own injuries she was ignoring so she couldn’t chastise Adolin without being a hypocrite. She could understand.

Shallan pressed the clean bandages into his hands without a word, the once pristine cloth stark against the deep red of the blood soaking Adolin’s hand.

“He’ll be fine, he’ll be okay,” Adolin said, though he sounded more like he was reassuring himself instead of her. Shallan nodded wordlessly, brushing his hair out of his eyes, to which Adolin threw her a grateful glance.

“He will be. You know him, stubborn bridgeboy,” she forced a smile, using the name Adolin used for Kaladin so often it stuck to her as well.

“He’s going to spring right back up like always and pretend nothing happened, storm him.” Adolin had a strained smile on his face now as well. They were both mumbling nonsense just to reassure each other and they knew it.

“He’s been through worse. He’ll be fine. I have experience with anti-light. It can— He can—“

Their reassurances were cut off abruptly by a sharp sound from Kaladin himself, a half groan, half whine tearing through his gritted teeth as he turned his head sharply. Shallan tried to soothe him again but he turned his face away from her unconsciously, his body tense and rigid, breaths becoming laboured.

Shallan forced down a sob of frustration, feeling her pouch of spheres in her pockets. All the stormlight in the world and it wouldn’t matter if Kaladin couldn’t take it in before his wound made him bleed to death. She didn’t even know whether it was the wound or the anti-light that would do him in first. She’d thought that she’d been mistaken. But the blade had been made of anti-light after all. How Kaladin had still pushed through was beyond her. But she was convinced that was why he was in his current state of pain. Normally, anti-light didn’t take this long to fade.

They stayed there for what felt like ages but was probably only a few minutes, with Adolin having his hands pressed firmly against his side. Every time he eased up, his arms going sore and numb, the blood would come gushing out again and he’d tense immediately. Syl had settled finally against Kaladin’s shoulder, trying to wake him now—to no avail—after flying nervous circles above him. She’d gone worryingly silent now but Shallan was sure she wasn’t harmed by the anti-light in any physical way whatsoever; or else the effects would have shown by now.

Shallan had gently dragged Kaladin’s head onto her lap, holding him close as he panted hot breaths against her skin, shushing him and soothing him through each wave of pain.

She had never seen Kaladin like this before. She’d seen him at a lot of low points in his life, but Kaladin was a mountain, tough and persistent, standing firm against every highstorm life had ever thrown at him, a whirlwind of thunder and terror and passion . Now he lay, a gasping mess, bleeding out in their arms. A disturbing reminder that even someone like Kaladin was only human. And Shallan was ashamed to think that she’d fallen under the same illusion to think of him as anything more just like everyone else so narrow-mindedly did.

They’d both stopped talking entirely, it took too much of Adolin’s attention and they were both too worried for it anyway.

Finally, after an eternity passing in a few minutes, when Adolin eased up pressure slightly, lifting the bandages to check, the blood didn’t come pouring out.

“The bleeding hasn’t stopped yet but it has slowed considerably,” Adolin said, voice rough, letting out a small sigh of relief.

Though they both knew the work was far from done. As long as Kaladin couldn’t inhale any stormlight, any internal damage he might have would go unnoticed by them. They didn’t have Kaladin’s knowledge and expertise, and what little they knew was not nearly enough to help him.

Shallan got up, taking out a water canteen hanging from her side and offering it to Adolin. She helped him drink it, propping it close to his mouth as his hands were too slick with blood to hold anything.

She used the rest of the water to try to clean Kaladin’s wound. Adolin still had a hand pressed against it slightly, so Shallan worked around it, cleaning the area. She took another bandage out, startling to see how quickly each cloth became soaked through until it became useless. She poured water on it and started dabbing at his skin gently. Kaladin’s skin still twitched at the touch but he was quieter now.

Too quiet.

Shallan didn’t know if she preferred this silence over his earlier noises of pain, though those had been equally heart wrenching to hear but at least they were indication that he was still with them. He was dreafully still now, his chest barely rising and falling a fraction of an inch with small, shallow breaths.

His skin had started going wan. As Shallan cleaned his side, the wound became increasingly more visible under all that blood. It was a bad one, a long cut running horizontally at his abdomen, the skin around it red. The blade had pierced deep.

All of their cloths were torn and covered in blood and grime. She was glad they had Kaladin’s supplies with them, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about rotspren. Shallan silently thanked Kaladin’s insistence at being cautious and packing a supply of antiseptic. Shallan got up, taking out the small vial that Kaladin insisted on keeping on his personnel despite them commenting that they would have stormlight. As far as Shallan knew, all Windrunners were required to keep a basic medical kit on themselves at all times. Their packs were long lost, but at least they had what little they kept on themselves. His prudence might very well now save his own life, though she was sure he did not necessarily have himself in mind when packing.

She uncorked it, pouring it carefully on a relatively clean cloth. Her own hands were now thoroughly covered in blood as well but she didn’t have the time to wash them. She rubbed the antiseptic at his wound. This brought a low hiss from his teeth, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. Shallan held her breath, wondering if the pain would be enough to wake him, but no such luck. His eyes kept firmly closed, his lashes fluttered but didn’t open, eyes darting around beneath his closed lids. She would’ve done anything to have him tell them what to do next. But she worked silently. The memory of his instructions would have to do, filling her mind in his calm, clinical voice.

Keep the wound and the area around it clean. Rotspren take as many people out as the actual wounds do. However, stopping the blood is the first priority.

She had been curious about his instructions and had always paid attention to his more thorough lessons, but it had always been with the knowledge that she would rarely need the information. She already knew as much about the human anatomy from her life sciences textbooks as she needed and in the case of emergencies they had medics around on the battlefield at all times. They weren’t on the battlefield this time, though. They were far from it.

Maya had informed Adolin of a nearby deserted town, that was still closer to them than getting back to their forces would have been. True to Maya’s word, the town was completely empty of any human life, though it showed traces of a hasty escape when the Everstorm must have struck. It was in one of these abandoned homes that they’d taken shelter in, after Radiant had killed the Magnified One. The Heavenly One had retreated then, instead of pressing his advantage.

Shallan didn’t know anything about the code conduct of the Shanay-im or if the Heavenly One they’d been fighting even belonged to that sect but she was grateful for whatever had made him pull back. She wasn’t sure he’d just left to return with reinforcements however. He could easily find them here.

It didn’t matter. They’d deal with it later. Kaladin’s life came first.

Adolin slowly took his hand off his side, flexing his fingers with a grimace. The blood had started drying on him , crusting on his fingers and sleeves. Shallan knew how much of an uncomfortable feeling that was personally. He stretched his arm, rolling his good shoulder in it’s socket.

His eye fell on something as he did so however. Adolin sucked a sharp breath in, reaching out with gentle but quick fingers to ghost along her collarbone.

“You’re injured,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not anti-light. And it’s mostly healed,” she explained calmly. “I was just conserving stormlight for him.” She tipped her chin towards the still form of Kaladin.

“For him to fly us when he’s awake?” Adolin asked.

“For him to. . . survive,” Shallan replied, voice going tight.

Adolin’s expression pinched and he dropped his hand. “Still, we should see to it.”

“I will,” Shallan promised. “Later. It’s not fatal.”

Not as fatal as him. The words went unsaid. By the troubled, almost haunted look that passed Adolin’s features, he heard them anyway.

“You’re one to talk,” Shallan said, eyes purposely taking in the odd angle of Adolin’s left arm, the one he now carefully cradled next to his chest. He must have strained the injury while working on Kaladin. The limb had swollen up around the break and was now purple in a huge bruise.

The funny thing was that Kaladin would have chewed them both out for being so careless.

Well, then maybe he should have been awake for it. So it was really his fault.

“Well. . .it’s not fatal,” Adolin said weakly, echoing her words, giving her a strained smile.

“Kaladin is going to be so mad,” Shallan said, voicing her thoughts.

Adolin just chuckled in agreement, shaking his head slightly. Then he looked at Kaladin himself, brows pinched together. Shallan could tell what he was thinking. She didn’t want to, but her mind already formed the thought without her permission. Too late— just like during the fight —

They’d worry about making him angry if Kaladin ever woke up.

Radiant shook her head, dispelling the unnecessary thoughts and standing up straighter. She caught Adolin’s eyes and nodded at him reassuringly. She could take it from here, monitor Kaladin until he could take in stormlight.

“I think we should—“ Adolin started but got interrupted by Pattern who slipped into their room from the underneath the door.

“Shallan, there’s a group of singers outside. Five malen and four femalen, all Warforms. There might be more coming but no Fused in sight,” he hummed nervously.

No Fused? Radiant had been certain that if any enemy forces came for them, that Heavenly One would be with them. From what little she knew of them, they did not stay behind and order soldiers for tasks they didn’t want to accomplish themselves.

“Odd,” she mused.

“Yes, odd. Hmm because there are nine of them,” Pattern said, spinning faster.

Nine Warforms were still bad odds, considering their current state.

Radiant and Adolin shared a glance, then she was rushing towards the door, summoning both her blades.

“Radiant! Wait,” Adolin caught her arm before she could leave. “Stay with him, I’ll go.”

That brought Shallan right up front. She inhaled sharply, “Adolin—“

“Please. I need to be confident he’ll be safe if they find him. He’s in no condition to run, let alone fight. I can handle it, I entrust him to you.”

She looked into his eyes, finding only firm determination there and a bit of pleading hope and knew there was nothing she could do to make him change his mind. She turned, cursing strong enough to make even Veil blush. She knew Adolin could handle it, she didn’t doubt him for a single moment but she knew his armour was in the worst condition between the three of them. Singers he could probably take, but if any Fused came up. . .

If they were lucky, the Singers weren’t hostile. But considering their recent luck? Shallan cursed again.

It was basically a gamble, a calculated risk. One Adolin was clearly willing to take.

She turned back to him and nodded once tightly. Adolin smiled, far too relieved for a situation such as theirs but it made her smile back anyway, easing the knot of tension in her stomach somewhat. He looked back at the unconscious Kaladin one last time before moving towards the door with a determined step.

She turned at the last moment, hauled him back and kissed him fiercely, taking his jaw in both her hands. He melted into it, reluctantly pulling back when she did. She looked into his eyes again.

“Come back to me alive or else I’ll kill you, Adolin storming Kholin.”

Adolin gave her a loopy smile, eyes slightly dazed before sharpening into focus again. “Promise,” he whispered.

She nodded and let him go, knowing full well what promises meant for him—for all of them these days. He threw her a look behind him one last time before walking out.

Shallan turned back to Kaladin and hoped the two of them would be enough to keep their bridgeboy alive long enough.

“Pattern, go with him. Help him,” she instructed.

“Mm, be careful, Shallan,” Pattern buzzed before sliding out of their room.

Syl flew over to sit at her shoulder and she took comfort in her presence. She couldn’t risk sending Syl out to help Adolin, she needed her to stay close to Kaladin so she could keep an eye on him through their bond. Besides, Pattern could form small illusions of his own, lightweavings she’d already drawn for him before.

It would have to be enough.

Adolin stepped out of the shabby, run-down house and the simple act of walking away from it took more effort than anything he had ever done in his life. Still, he soldiered on. His best friend was fighting for his life in there and his wife was standing guard. Adolin would do what he had to to buy them both time.

He couldn’t afford to lose either of them. It didn’t surprise him how much the thought of losing Kaladin made panic claw at his chest. It shouldn’t have anyway. He knew there was something there. Something he hadn’t been ready to examine for a long time but now with Kal bleeding out in his arms and after saving his life too—

Things set back into perspective in times of dire stress. And this time Adolin didn’t deny the sudden clarity. He didn’t have time to. Not in this war. He just had to make time so he could do things the proper way. Kaladin deserved it.

“Lead the way, Pattern,” he said, hearing the familiar hum of the spren trailing behind until now, when he slid forward in front of him.

There was also the guilt churning nauseatingly in his stomach. Kaladin had forced himself to use stormlight to save Adolin’s life. Despite the consequences he must have known. Adolin would never stop hearing that pained cry Kaladin had shouted in his ear mid fall as they’d lurched to a stop with a Lashing.

It could be that he was doing all of this because of it, but he wasn’t doing it only because of the guilt and he wasn’t doing it for the guilt.

No, he would have chosen to protect those two any time of the day without second thought or reason. Even if it wasn’t a favour to return. He himself would have never managed to get himself out of that circle of an army forming around him, not without both Shallan and Kaladin’s help.

Adolin marched behind Pattern’s spinning form. He didn’t yet summon his armour. The nearly spent thing would do more to hold him down in combat than sustain him. Adolin’s left forearm throbbed dully with the familiar ache of a broken bone. The limb had cracked slightly when they’d landed roughly on the ground back then, under the weight of both himself and Kaladin who was trying to protect him from the fall. They’d landed in an awkward heap, but the only reason Adolin was alive and still standing because Kaladin had managed to pull the impossible and do whatever it is that he’d done—which he was paying the price for at this very moment.

Adolin saw the outlines of the figures Pattern had mentioned off in the distance, breaking through every house one by one as they plundered through. Adolin had hoped that the Singer forms meant they could be talked to, reasoned with, bargained with. But the way they were obviously searching the town meant only one thing.

We’re not getting back without a fight, Maya said. She didn’t sound half sad about it.

Adolin grinned as he summoned her. Good thing only his non dominant arm was broken.

Chapter Text

Shallan was beginning to feel her eyes droop shut. She’d already tied firm bandages around Kaladin’s torso and then she’d begun seeing to her own shoulder. The place where the Magnified One had struck was still slightly raw, the wound red but scabbed over. It wasn’t an anti-light injury, thankfully. She’d just forced herself to keep from healing it, if only to preserve stormlight. Then she’d kept it from healing because she knew Kaladin needed it more, when he could take it, that is.

Wounds inflicted from anti-light ate up more stormlight than any normal one, and Kaladin really seemed like he needed all he could get. If only he could take in any by now.

Now she’d been sitting by his side after having bandaged her chest, when a small gasp from Kaladin snapped her back into attention. His eyes were still closed tight and she half thought he was suffering from some night terror when Kaladin gasped again, curling over on his side towards her, one hand clawing at his ribs where his nails raked upon the freshly bandaged injury.

Shallan’s blood went cold. She rushed to pry his hands away before he could hurt himself and went in for a closer look. Even with the bandages, she could see red, angry lines emerging on the skin from beneath them.

Infection? she thought incredulously. But she’d used the antiseptic. She’d cleaned his wound. She’d done everything right. Even without looking, she could tell there were small, red rotspren hoarding around Kaladin’s wound.

She hurried to unwrap the bandages again as she dug in for that vial. The clear liquid sloshed inside, too little. If she’d used the entirety of it and it hadn’t work, what good would this little amount do?

“Syl! Is this happening because— why is this happening?”

She couldn’t think of a reasonable answer. The anti-light didn’t work in physical ways to have caused the infection.

“I don’t know! Nothing like this has happened before. No one has ever tried using stormlight with anti-light still in,” Syl replied anxiously, flying in circles over Kaladin’s head.

No one who has survived, Shallan thought darkly.

Syl stood at the side of his face and put both hands on the corner of his eye. “Please, Kaladin. Wake up,” she whispered.

Kaladin’s response was a weak, pained groan through gritted teeth, whether conscious or not, Shallan didn’t know.

Instead of pouring the antiseptic on a cloth, she tipped the vial over his side directly, making sure not to waste any. Kaladin didn’t respond except for the tightening of his brow, wrinkling his forehead where sweat beaded on wan skin.

“Could it be that the anti-light weakened him somehow? Made him more. . . I don’t know, susceptible to the rotspren?” she wondered aloud as she worked.

“I don’t know,” Syl whispered, hands still on Kaladin’s temple, still watching him with wide eyes as if it physically hurt her to watch him in pain. Shallan didn’t know if it actually did or not. They were all the luckiest people on Roshar that the blade hadn’t struck Syl, but right now luck wasn’t something Shallan was ready to think about.

Kaladin made another soft sound, his breath hitching. Orange painspren sprouted around him, clawing their way up his body. Shallan cursed colourfully. The antiseptic shooed a few of the rotspren away only for them to start crowding again.

“Syl, we have to give him stormlight,” Shallan said.

Syl just looked at her with panicked eyes, expression reflecting the uncertainty Shallan felt.

“It’s either we give him stormlight or he dies from infection. Theres no time. We don’t have a choice!”

Syl took a shaky breath in, form rippling as she inhaled as if steeling herself.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Kaladin drifted somewhere in a world of pain and coldness. The cold wrapped around his body, piercing through his heart, his mind until it felt like a state of being. He was dying. He was certain of it. He’d come close to it quite a few times but he’d never felt it so surely in his bones as he did now.

In his more wishful days, Kaladin had imagined it as something more comforting. Like putting down a heavy burden he’d been carrying, like coming to the end of a long road he’d been walking.

“. . .please, Kal. Please breathe. . .”

Something wet and warm hit his cheek and slid down his face. Someone had their arms wrapped around him, shaking slightly. When was the last time he’d been held like this? Like someone worth keeping together. He tried to focus through the haze, emerge to consciousness to see who it was.

If it was real or something cruel and comforting conjured up by his mind in his last moments.

But that only brought him pain, so he let go of his efforts. Let go of the world that pressed so heavily down upon him at all times. The guilt of his failures that threatened to crush him underneath it’s weight, the darkness that wrapped so firmly around his mind.

If he let go, he’d be free from all that suffering. If he let go, there will be peace, at last.

Please, Kaladin. Hold on for me. Listen to her words.

The voice cut through the fog in his head like a spear of clarity. But it still took him a moment to process what it said.

Syl.

“You can’t do this to us. You can’t give up yet.” Someone was saying somewhere above him, someone not Syl. “After everything you’re going to let a stupid knife do you in? You went through all of that for this?” she hissed.

It took him several moments to piece the source of that voice to Shallan. He felt strange, disoriented, disconnected from his body. Why was Shallan here? Why was she holding him like this? And what was she talking about? Hadn’t he deserved at least this after everything? To choose to let go? Why did she ask the impossible of him when they both knew it was too late?

“You can’t. . . I won’t let you. . . not like this, not yet. Not when I haven’t even. . .”

He was already slipping. It was too late. It wasn’t his choice anymore.

There was a certain freedom in that revelation.

“I love you, Kaladin,” Shallan sobbed. More tears hit his cheeks. “I love you so much it has terrified me for ages. But I was so scared, such a coward that I pushed it—pushed you away. I can’t—“ she sucked in a shaky breath. “I can’t do this without you. We can’t do this without you. Because I love Adolin but I also love you and I don’t know what that says about me but I’m— I can’t let you go. I’m not ready, please, not yet. Please, Kaladin.”

More sobs. Kaladin’s body shook with the force of it. But that was nothing compared to the shock that took firm hold of his mind, pushing away the darkness if only for a moment.

Kaladin wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he had no control over his own body anymore. He wanted to laugh, or cry, or both. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that she was saying it only out of some sense of pity or desperation. But he couldn’t. Not in the face of those sobs that seemed like they were torn out of her soul. Not when she was talking to him as if swearing an oath of her own.

Kaladin tried to tell himself it wasn’t real. That it was just his body’s desperate attempt to keep him alive. But not even his imagination of Shallan could talk so sweetly to him like this. He’d have never let himself imagine something like this anyway. He never had. Even in the dark hours of the night where he wished for more than he had, he never let himself imagine this.

Nothing compared to the real thing anyway. And this was real.

With more effort than Kaladin had ever managed in his entire life, gritting through pain and nausea and shock and darkness, he opened his eyes like a bridge he was too weak to lift. Instead of finding nothing like he had feared—or hoped, Kaladin saw that familiar face that he’d memorised without intending to. Red hair, bright eyes glassy with tears, lips pulled in a surprised, wet smile to see him awake.

Even through the haze of his pain, Kaladin couldn’t deny the shock he felt at finding out the words were real.

“You. . .” he rasped, throat raw. “You said. . .”

He couldn’t manage more. His head was being cradled in her hands, which was good because he didn’t think he had the effort to lift it on his own to see her. Her hands were so gentle, so warm around him that it made him want to cry.

Shallan was crying. He didn’t understand why. How long had she even been holding him like this? Talking to empty air, words he’d been too far away to hear.

“Yes,” she said immediately, instead of denying it like he’d expected. “Yes, I said it. I said that I love you, Kaladin Stormblessed.”

There was something fierce and determined in her expression, the fire in her that he’d seen only used to cut before, now she used it to heal.

“. . .why?. . .” Kaladin croaked, unable to hold his confusion at bay.

Why now? Why him?

Shallan let out something close to a hysterical laugh, half sob. “Because you’re you, idiot. I don’t know. I love you and— I need you. And we’ll have all the time in the world for me to make a list of reasons for you when you get better, but right now I just need you to believe me. Believe me when I say Adolin would understand how I feel.” Another sob, her shoulders shaking with it, a wet smile forming on her face. “We don’t know, he might even agree with me. So can’t you?”

Kaladin could. He could believe her. He’d thought it would be more difficult. But at the moment, believing her felt like the easiest thing, the only thing he could do. He wished he didn’t. So he could let go and close his eyes and be done with it. But he couldn’t lie to himself. More importantly, he couldn’t lie to her.

“And we’re both broken and we’ve worked it out before so we can do this too. We’ll figure it out together, but you need to stay for that to happen,” Shallan continued, almost pleading now. Kaladin had never heard her plead for anything before, and now she did it for him. It was dizzying and unbelievable.

Kaladin could barely hear her anymore, words blurring in and out, vision swimming. But he’d heard enough to believe her. He wasn’t sure if it was still enough.

He wanted to say something. Wanted to say ‘it’s alright’ to tell her he was okay with something that twisted painfully in his chest if only to stop her pain, or ‘thank you’ for giving him a gift he didn’t deserve . Or laugh at her and say ‘you’re a fool’ or that ‘you shouldn’t’, ‘you’re making a mistake’, ‘you don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Or say something very foolish. Foolish and naive, but oh so true. He wanted to say it back.

Wanted to say: ‘I love you, I always have and I didn’t even know it. I love you and it’s been my undoing and my strength for so long.’

Because he saw not just her but both of their happiness and felt not jealousy or envy or resentment but a longing like a dull pang in his chest that just wished he was part of something he was too broken for. Something he’d accepted he’d never have, never deserved.

He wanted to say all of this and explain his disbelief to her, wanted to pour his heart out and tell her of years of distant yearning in the back of his mind. That he was so happy when he saw them be happy together and he wished nothing but the best for them both. Even if the best for them meant he’d never have what he desired.

He wanted to say all of it. But instead what came out of his mouth, broken and small was: “I’m sorry.”

Because he was still dying, wasn’t he? Was this his punishment then? To finally get the confession of her love only when it was too late? It seemed fitting that he would get something he secretly hated himself for desiring at his own deathbed.

“No,” Shallan sobbed. “No, no, no— you can’t— you can’t. I won’t let you. I’ll never let you! So breathe. You storming—ridiculous, impossible man— breathe, storm you! You think you can pull a stunt like that and leave like this? You think I’ll let you?”

Kaladin felt his eyes flutter shut again, felt the initial shock give way back to the darkness to swoop in and take control. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore, couldn’t feel anything but the fog of unconsciousness pulling at him again, like his body had already passed on but his mind was stubbornly holding on.

But he’d heard enough.

He’d thought he’d done enough already. Saved Bridge Four, made it so they didn’t need him anymore, helped Dalinar, provided him with a cohesive force of soldiers, and then he’d retired temporarily. Shallan and Adolin might care for him, but they hadn’t needed him, not like that. They had each other. He’d done everything he could have. There had been nothing left to hold onto anymore.

But this. . . this could be something he could let himself need. Not just for them , but for himself.

Breathe, she told him.

Kaladin did. At the promise of lasting peace and escape and freedom and everything he had ever desired, Kaladin did the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life. The only thing that felt natural to him.

He breathed.

And it brought him pain.

At first it was that same strange resistance, the one that pushed against him as if in warning. But Kaladin pushed back, trying harder to take in stormlight. Whatever opposition his body had conjured up gave way under his efforts. And it quickly became apparent why it was there in the first place. Kaladin’s whole body burned. Where there was the chilling cold spreading inside before, now it felt as if someone had set his insides on fire.

It wasn’t the familiar warmth of a fever or infection. No, this was worse. This was cruel. Like the stormlight inside him was waging a war against the foreign invader as the anti-light and in the battle between two opposing forces it was his body losing the fight.

The wound in his side was the focus point of that pain, emanating from there in waves. It felt as if someone was slowly turning him inside out. He felt his wound being slowly stitched together. Too slowly. Where stormlight had provided instant healing, too fast to even think of the implications of his body being pulled together from the seams, this gave him all the time to realise it. Realise what a blessing the stormlight used to be for him. What it might never be for him again.

Using stormlight despite the anti-light in his system had broken something fundamental inside him, something he didn’t understand but was still feeling the effects of in a way that went beyond the physical. The stormlight he pulled now was raging to mend that damage, struggling to bring his body back to normal. The healing hurt. Each stitch pulled burned, each organ mended stung, each artery and vein closed scorched.

It’s working! Keep going, Kaladin. Don’t give up. Syl’s voice, gentle but firm in his mind. Fleet kept running, remember?

He didn’t really have enough mind to parse her words, but he appreciated the way her voice pierced through the fog of pain—if only for a moment.

Kaladin was vaguely aware of being cradled in Shallan’s arms like something fragile, his burning face pressed into the crook of her shoulder and neck where he heaved laboured breaths on her skin. The position was distinctly intimate but he couldn’t bring himself to feel shame about it. Unfortunately, neither did he have the mind to appreciate it, afraid it would slip away the moment he stopped needing her support. She was murmuring soft reassurances in his ear that he didn’t quite catch but appreciated anyway.

After what felt like an entire eternity passing, Kaladin felt the stormlight he’d breathed in sputter and be spent up. He didn’t dare breathe in more. His side was still throbbing with each beat of his heart, but the healing had hurt far more than the actual wound. To the point he might actually prefer the injury to the healing, which was. . . dangerous, per se. But he was too tired to think of the negative implications this would have on his body.

Now that the pain had somewhat passed, he felt the bone deep exhaustion settling onto him again. It took him several moments of laboured breathing to calm his heart thudding against his ribs.

Shallan was running her hands through his hair, he realised with a start. The drag of her fingernails on his scalp made his eyes flutter shut again as he slumped bonelessly against her. He slowly opened his eyes again to see Syl behind Shallan, staring at him with open concern.

Kaladin wanted to reassure her that he was okay now, but he could barely manage to keep his eyes open any longer. He managed a barely there smile, a twitch of his lips. Kaladin made a sound in frustration, but Syl smiled back, apparently relieved.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you. Just keep breathing, I’ve got you,” Shallan was muttering near his ear, half sentences and broken reassurances that felt as believable as they were small and relieved.

Kaladin fell asleep like that. Shallan’s arms around him, stronger than they looked but so, so tender. Syl’s light in his mind, gentle but clear. The promise of something more.

It was the most peaceful he had ever been in his life.

Chapter Text

Adolin burst through the door, panting and barely on his feet, swaying slightly where he stood. His shardplate was covered in orange and red blood, cracked and scratched from several places and leaking so much stormlight, it looked like a silvery, glowing hearth fire. His body was a constellation of pain, blood crusted on his cloths and he wasn’t sure how he was still standing.

None of it mattered.

He dismissed Maya with a silent thanks, and she pulsed in his mind comfortingly. His first concern wasn’t his own state anyway, it was two other people.

“I came as fast as I could,” he panted, “how is he?”

He rushed towards the bed. Kaladin was still unconscious, cradled in Shallan’s arms. He kneeled on the floor by the bed, watching them both, eyes darting between them. There were tear tracks on Shallan’s cheeks, face red and eyes smudged. And she looked devastated.

His stomach dropped to the floor.

“He’s okay,” Shallan sniffed before he could jump to any conclusions. She must have seen the fear on his face because she reached over and touched his cheek reassuringly. “We’re okay,” she whispered.

Adolin closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that hit him from those words and let himself be comforted by her touch, relief taking his breath. He opened his eyes and glanced at Kaladin, worry still present despite her words. Kaladin’s face was still tense, but had relatively relaxed as compared to his previously pained expression, features tight with it. There was only a slight furrow in his brow and a tensing of his jaw, and he looked to be in deep sleep rather than actively dying . Adolin wasn’t sure he had ever seen bridgeboy sleep so heavily before.

Shallan retracted her hand and brushed some hair away from Kaladin’s forehead in a shockingly tender gesture, but Adolin didn’t think to comment on it.

“I gave him some stormlight with Syl’s permission, but he can’t handle too much yet. We don’t know what the anti-light did. We can’t tell if any more stormlight would heal or damage.”

She looked over to him then, a strained smile on her face that must have been intended to be reassuring but came out as a grimace instead. Syl was nowhere to be seen, but Adolin intended to talk to her about this as well.

“But at least he’s out of danger,” Shallan said.

There was relief in her eyes now, but Adolin could see the tightening in her expression. He wondered if her tears had been from joy or something much crueler like fear. She sniffed again, pushing her own hair back with a hand and sitting up straighter as if bracing herself.

“He- he came close, though. . .” She looked up, eyes betraying the real pain she must have felt. “Adolin. . . we almost lost him.”

The world came crashing down on him at that instant. He gripped the edge of the bed to steady himself, telling himself that the moment was over. Kaladin was safe. He was alive. They hadn’t lost him.

But they almost had.

He reached forward and took her hand in his gauntleted own, squeezing lightly in comfort, letting himself be grounded by her touch as well. He stood up after a moment, dismissing his armour.

Sir! His armourspren said in his mind in unison.

You did good. He sent praise mentally their way. He’d been completely certain that his plate would be spent up entirely after that last fight, but his armourspren had pulled through somehow by sheer force of Adolin’s will. He wouldn’t have let anything keep him from returning.

He was about to turn away to give Shallan a glass of water when he heard a small groan from Kaladin.

“. . .dolin?”

Both of their heads snapped towards Kaladin at the sound. Adolin rushed back so fast he thought he would get whiplash from it. He scrambled to the side of the bed, sitting on it and taking Kaladin’s hand in both of his, squeezing slightly to let him know of his presence.

“Shh, I’m here,” he muttered, “I’m right here. I’m with you, bridgeboy.”

Kaladin’s lashes fluttered weakly against his cheeks, eyes mere slits when he opened them. The furrow in his brow grew deeper and another groan escaped his lips before he pressed them together. Shallan ran her fingers through his hair gently and Kaladin’s eyes fell on her before sliding away towards Adolin again. They both held their breaths, afraid to let go as if it could shatter this moment somehow.

“You. . .you two safe?” Kaladin mumbled. His words were slurred, voice weak and unsteady. Adolin almost laughed at his question. He’d come so close to dying and this was his first concern?

Shallan did laugh. A wet, broken sound. “We’re fine, Kal. You need to worry about yourself first,” she said.

Kaladin only grunted weakly in return. The fact that he hadn’t even tried to convince them he was fine was concerning, but the weak grunt he’d let out was almost a negative if it didn’t sound so pained.

“Syl?” He said, voice small. His eyes roved around the room and must have fallen on Syl because Adolin visibly saw the tight lines of worry around his eyes loosen somewhat. Adolin couldn’t see her but she must have reassured Kaladin of her presence.

Then his eyes were drooping shut again.

“Hey, hey,” Shallan whispered, palming his cheek. “Come on, don’t close your eyes.”

Kaladin made a valiant attempt at staying awake, opening his eyes again weakly but he was straining to even focus at them.

“Tired,” he mumbled as he closed them shut again, hand falling limp in Adolin’s. Shallan threw Adolin a worried glance. She caressed Kaladin’s skin with the back of her fingers gently and then bridgeboy was sleeping again.

Adolin let out a shaky breath, still holding on to Kaladin’s hand, thumb rubbing circles over his calloused knuckles.

“Syl?” Adolin asked, intending to ask her if they could give Kaladin more stormlight. But she didn’t appear in front of them. That worried him. He had been afraid the anti-light had hurt her in some way as well. But she’d looked like she wasn’t hurt in any physical way.

Adolin didn’t push her to manifest if she was present in the room. Maybe she had gone flying somewhere again. Kaladin did it sometimes to clear his head. Roshar knew they all needed some time after what they’d just endured.

He couldn’t risk giving Kaladin more stormlight without Syl’s permission, so he just sat there, the adrenaline of the fight slowly fading until several different pains made themselves known slowly, scattered over his body; a bruise here, a cut there.

Kaladin was still dreadfully still and it just felt wrong to see him like this. Adolin had to remind himself over and over that he was just sleeping, until he found himself tracking the rise and fall of Kal’s chest with intense focus just to make sure he kept breathing.

Adolin raised a hand and pressed it to Kaladin’s chest, right above his sternum, feeling that now steady thump thump thump of his heart beating beneath his palm, reassuring him of life with each pump. He half wanted to lean over and press his ear in place of his hand instead, to fall asleep right there with the steady promise of Kaladin’s life. But it crossed a line he was now painfully aware of. Too painfully. And Adolin didn’t know how to name what was on the other side of that line. At least not when Kaladin was asleep like this.

Maybe. . .maybe they could name it together if when Kaladin woke up. Maybe Adolin could hope for something beautiful on the other side.

After a while, he reached over with his free arm and wrapped it around Shallan, who slumped into it freely.

And they sat there, forming a strange circle, holding each other up as much as holding on to each other.

Adolin fell asleep for a fitful hour or two. He blinked awake to find himself cooped up in a rickety chair, muscles protesting the odd position. He’d sat down, intending to keep watch on Kaladin but then next thing he knew he’d spent hours asleep.

Someone had his arm in their hands. A sharp sting of pain shot through his shoulder and he cursed, startling fully awake.

“Sorry,” Shallan said. “I don’t have Kaladin’s surgeon hands.”

Adolin blinked the sleep out of his eyes and looked up to see her tying a bandage around his shoulder, where he’d gotten injured earlier in the fight.

“What next?” Shallan asked, but the question wasn’t directed at him. Adolin blinked again, though this time in confusion. The short nap had disoriented him.

“The sling. His arm looks pretty bad, but you set the bone good.”

Adolin startled again, causing Shallan to drop his arm. He followed the source of that tired but fully awake voice and the sight was nearly enough to make him pass out with relief. Kaladin was awake, sitting up slightly, back resting against the headboard of the bed. He looked terrible, exhausted, injured and bloody but he was looking back at Adolin with fully aware eyes, finally, finally awake and talking.

Stormfather. He hadn’t realised how shaken he’d been until this moment when the relief crashed over him.

“Morning,” Kaladin greeted drily, despite the fact that it was late afternoon outside.

Adolin shot to his feet so fast he nearly tipped the chair back, startling Shallan.

“You’re awake!” he declared, quite foolishly, since it was obvious.

Kaladin flushed slightly but ducked his head in affirmative. “Unfortunately,” he said.

The dry sarcasm was so like him that Adolin wanted to laugh himself insane. He hadn’t realised how much he’d feared losing this.

Kaladin was staring at him now with an unreadable expression, and if Adolin wasn’t drinking in his presence at the moment he might have stopped to think of how something almost guilty passed across his features, eyes darting between him and Shallan behind him.

Adolin leaned down and put both hands on his shoulders as if to give himself a physical reassurance that Kaladin was real, he was here, and he was alive.

“You storming man. You scared the crem out of me,” he said, voice coming out rougher than intended.

“I’m—“

Adolin didn’t let him finish. Instead, he did something even more stupid. He surged forward and kissed him.

Kaladin stilled completely, then made a surprised sound as one hand came up to presumably push Adolin away. Instead it settled on his good shoulder. The kiss was barely a firm peck of their lips, but Adolin realised too late what he was doing.

Kaladin’s hand on his shoulder reminded him of what he’d just done. And Adolin pulled back immediately, horrified.

Kaladin was staring at him with a stunned expression, slightly dazed.

Horror and guilt crashed down on Adolin. Ash’s eyes, what had he just done?

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I didn’t— I shouldn’t have— I didn’t even realise— I’m so sorry, Kaladin,” he stammered through a proper response, mind reeling to make up an excuse, to apologise, to smooth it over. But his lips were still warm from the kiss and his mind was still catching up with the fact that Kaladin was alive, and now he’d done this. It was too much for him to process.

Very suave, Adolin , Maya teased, but there was something gentle in her tone, almost cajoling. Adolin could hear the smirk in her voice. His cheeks burned at her words.

He’d kissed Kaladin. He’d kissed Kaladin. And in front of Shallan? Adolin whirled back, eyes darting between the matching stunned expressions on both Kaladin and Shallan, at the shockspren gathering at the floor that seemed like they belonged to all three of them.

“I—“ Kaladin’s voice was strained with something more than just pain when he spoke. “It’s okay, Adolin. It was. . .it was an accident. I mean— you didn’t. . .”

“No, I. . .” Adolin began, feeling like he’d truly lost his mind. “I meant to do that,” he blurted out, heat rising up his cheeks.

Very graceful recovery, Maya said.

Please stop, Adolin replied back, holding back the urge to press his face into his hands in embarrassment, or run out of there and never come back, or maybe lie down dead at the floor. Why had he even returned in the first place?

Kaladin looked surprised for the second time. So much so that the painspren clawing at his side disappeared to give way to more shockspren.

Adolin straightened, courage mounting now that he’d already foolishly taken the plunge.

In for a chip, in for a broam. He’d already jumped into the chasmfiend’s den, now it was time to own up to it. He turned slightly to Shallan again, seeing that the surprised look in her eyes had shifted into something almost calculating.

“I’m sorry, Shallan. I didn’t mean to be. . . unfaithful and I still love you! But, I didn’t lie, I mean, you have every right to be angry with me, or punish me but I can’t lie to you— I don’t regret. . . doing that.” He turned back to Kaladin as he said this. “I’m just sorry for how I did it. You didn’t—I didn’t even give you a warning. I shouldn’t have. . . shouldn’t have imposed myself on you. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

A beat passed. Then another. Kaladin was still looking like he was struggling to catch on, painfully silent.

“That is. . .” Adolin continued, face burning. “If you don’t want me to, of course.”

Shallan burst into laughter behind him. Both men startled at the sound.

“I’m sorry,” Shallan wheezed. “This is so hilarious. We really need to stop doing that. We’re going to scare him.”

Adolin didn’t know what was so funny about it. He still felt a little horrified, and mostly embarrassed, but there was still a warm flutter in his stomach from the phantom warmth of Kaladin’s lips that mortified him. But he was relieved that at least she wasn’t upset.

Kaladin flushed deeply, looking between Adolin and her. That same guilt passed across his features and he was having trouble looking into either of their eyes.

Adolin suppressed a groan. He’d truly blown this over. He didn’t understand what Kaladin was guilty about anyway. It was Adolin who should’ve been guilty, and he was. But Kaladin was just like that. Too good to blame Adolin.

“It’s like we share a brain or something. And I know all about sharing brains. We’re total disasters, aren’t we?” Shallan said once she finished up laughing.

Syl appeared in the middle of the room, startling everyone. Storms they were doing a lot of that, weren’t they?

“I agree,” Syl declared. “ Complete disasters. Humans are so stupid.”

“I. . . I don’t understand,” Adolin said, confusion making him pause for the first time since he’d woken up.

It was Shallan’s turn to flush. She threw a glance to Kaladin, then both turned their heads away quickly.

“Listen, Adolin,” Kaladin began, hands fisting in the bed slightly. “It wasn’t your fault. I. . .”

“I might have—“ Shallan interrupted. “—declared a love confession- to Kaladin while- you were. . .out.”

Adolin stared at her. Her words were halted and awkward and the blush on her face was deep enough to be seen even in the dim lighting.

“I thought he was dying. I said what I needed to. I told him I love him. And if there was some truth in it then. . .” she trailed off, something disturbed passing across her eyes. But she jutted her chin, almost in defiance.

Pattern hummed as he slid up Adolin’s chair. “It was an oath given. Hmm, unfortunate. That I wasn’t there to witness it. Mm, promises are the most delicious truths.”

“I was!” Syl declared, seeming cheerful now. Any other time Adolin would have been glad to see her back to her normal self after what she just endured, but now the sudden change seemed worrying. “It was very romantic. What you did was pretty close too though,” she said to Adolin.

“Syl, stop,” Kaladin said, voice strained, rubbing at his face in embarrassment.

Adolin sat back down slowly, Pattern sliding away from his chair to give him room. His exhaustion and injuries and blood loss were already enough, but the shock of the past few hours was catching up to him now. And there was the possibility, that truly made him dizzy with the thought. The possibility that he hadn’t ruined everything. That there was a chance to have something he hadn’t even allowed himself to realise he wanted. Shallan loved Kaladin. And. . .Adolin apparently liked him. But what about Kaladin?

You’ve wanted this since forever, Adolin. You just never admitted it to yourself, Maya said.

The truth in her words was deterring, because no one knew him as good as she did. Even before she’d began talking to him, she’d always been there to listen.

So maybe he could listen to her now in return.

“Well,” Adolin said. “I meant what I did, I know that much.”

Shallan hesitated, red hair bleeding into blonde at the roots. But then she looked up into Kaladin’s eyes, the red reasserting itself quickly. “I did too. I have for a long time,” Shallan agreed. Pattern hummed again, confirming their statements.

“And it only took you to almost die for me to say it too. You should have done that earlier.” Kaladin huffed but didn’t reply, shaking his head slightly, still looking a bit dizzy.

“Aren’t you. . .mad?” Kaladin asked uncertainly, but he looked to both of them so it was unclear who he was asking this question.

“I don’t really have the right to after what I did, I guess,” Shallan replied.

“Likewise. I’m not mad either,” Adolin agreed.

“The only thing I’m angry at is that you kissed him and you didn’t even have the taste of vomit in your mouth,” Shallan said, reaching over to punch Adolin lightly on his uninjured arm.

“Ow,” Adolin said anyway, rubbing the spot. Storms, Shallan could punch. “What? What does that even mean?”

“You opportunist,” Shallan smirked instead of replying, flushing deeply again.

Adolin groaned. “Don’t make it sound like that. I feel like a creep.” He flushed. That had been rather nice, despite the way it happened. Shallan gave him a significant look. Adolin flushed deeper.

Stormfather! it looked like the woman had known about Adolin’s. . .admiration. Or at least suspected. Of course, Adolin had known about her attraction towards the Windrunner but he hadn’t ever blamed her for it so he didn’t bring it up.

It was. . . quickly becoming apparent why Adolin had never faulted his wife for liking another man. Especially when that man was Kaladin.

Adolin and Shallan both looked at each other, an understanding passing between them. Adolin gave her a hesitant smile and Shallan returned it. Then they both turned to look at Kaladin, whose eyes were darting back and forth between them.

“Wait, hold on a minute, will you?” he said. “Slow down, both of you. I don’t— this is. . . I don’t understand.”

His voice cracked slightly at the end and he ran a hand through his hair tiredly with a wince, then dropped his hand entirely. He looked suddenly overwhelmed, eyes tight with more than just pain. Syl flew over to sit on his side, patting his arm in sympathy.

Adolin felt immediately guilty for everything. For Almighty’s sake, Kaladin had just followed them into battle, gotten surrounded, escaped from Fused, gotten mortally wounded, almost died and been badly hurt and still looked to be in severe pain and exhaustion. And now they’d just dropped this on him so suddenly. Adolin shouldn’t have lost control of himself. Kaladin deserved better then to have just been dropped this onto out of nowhere.

Because this was Kaladin. He wasn’t the kind of man who you courted for fun or flirted with on a whim. Kaladin was like gravity, steady and inescapable. He was a stormwall, purposeful and sweeping everyone along its way like a leaf caught in the greater wind. So Adolin had stepped back, out of the way, content to be just close enough but not too much. Not because he was afraid of committing but because he didn’t know he wanted to.

But then, Adolin had thought there had been something there between them for a long time. Something neither of them had ever seemed like they wanted to acknowledge. Adolin had been okay with that. Okay with the fate he’d chosen for himself. With the distance from Kaladin that always felt charged with something more than just the possibility of proximity. He’d been okay with just having Kaladin as a friend, the man he trusted, the man he respected. Nothing more.

Until the possibility of losing Kaladin had become suddenly more real than ever and all of his past excuses had tasted like crem on his mouth. And then he’d known even without realising it to himself that he couldn’t waste the chance again if Kaladin survived.

This was war. How had he ever made himself believe that he had time? To ignore his feelings, to bury them. How did he ever stop reminding himself that every battle they stepped out to fight, joking and teasing and laughing with each other, could be their last together? The regret would have killed him. If Kaladin hadn’t survived, the regret and guilt would have made it difficult for Adolin to do so as well.

Still, he should have been less hasty, given Kaladin time to recover, done this the proper way. With a confession and a date, in the safety of their home and the time to consider and think.

For Kaladin, of course. Adolin didn’t need time to think about it.

Not anymore.

Now, Adolin was willing to be pulled by his gravity, to be swept off his feet in the storm.

Kaladin was looking at them now with an unreadable expression, his mouth parted slightly like he was about to say something. He hesitated again.

“How long?” he whispered.

He needn’t clarify. They both understood what he asked. Adolin found the answer to that question wasn’t so simple however. He couldn’t really think of an exact moment where he’d stopped and known he loved Kaladin. He just had.

He did love Kaladin. The realisation should have been as surprising as when he’d kissed him. Instead it felt like witnessing a dawn after a highstorm, slow and natural and inevitable. Like ice slowly melting, revealing the clarity of his thoughts. Thinking that he loved Kaladin—equally as much as Shallan and in the same way—didn’t even seem as something new to him. It felt like giving name to something that had always been there.

If he had to answer his question though, he’d think of a range between just now as I kissed you to ever since I laid my eyes upon you for the first time.

Maya interrupted in Adolin’s mind before he could say anything at all, though.

I just checked; the battle is over. Adolin. . . something is wrong. The Heavenly Ones retreated too quickly.

Adolin sat up straighter, ignoring the protest from his body. Both Kaladin and Shallan came alert from his expression immediately.

“What is it?” Kaladin asked.

Our forces are on alert, but the fighting is finished. The enemy is going to pass over this town in the process. You’re in an exposed place. It’s better if you get back to that rocky terrain.

“Our vacation is getting interrupted,” Adolin said, standing. Shallan stood up with him. Kaladin struggled to slide his feet onto the floor but managed. “The battle is over. If that Heavenly One still wants to finish us off, this town is going to be first place they search since it’s technically away from the battlefield. We need to get out of these plains.”

“He would have killed us when he had the chance. The fact that he went back to the battlefield means he’s not coming back,” Kaladin said.

Adolin didn’t doubt Kaladin’s word. He knew the Heavenly Ones and their method of fighting best out of all of them.

“It’s still best to be careful,” he said anyway. Kaladin nodded slowly at that.

“We’ll be exposed out there,” Shallan pointed out, but really Adolin thought she was worried about Kaladin, with the way she was eyeing him up.

Kaladin clenched his jaw and sat up straighter. “And safer in here?” he asked.

Neither had an argument against that. Shallan glared at Kaladin—who returned it—but nodded, accepting defeat.

A red light flashed rapidly on her side. Shallan took out her spanreed quickly and twisted it in response.

“Help is coming,” she said. “I got through to my Lightweavers.”

“That’s good,” Adolin nodded. “We’ll signal to them once it’s safe to.”

“Our luck is truly wonderful today,” she said in response.

Adolin grinned. “Let’s not jinx it.”

“I’m going out to keep watch. Syl, come with me to look out for Heavenly Ones?” Shallan said. Adolin didn’t think she actually needed her around, but perhaps Shallan wanted to talk to Syl, about everything. Adolin was relieved. He’d been planning on talking to her himself. He was as worried about her as he was about Kaladin.

Syl looked to Kaladin, who nodded at her once. She patted Kaladin’s cheek with her ephemeral hand.

“Stay alive,” she said, which was the most they could ask of any of them at the moment.

Syl gave Kaladin the Bridge Four salute, wrists crossed. Kaladin returned it tiredly, but with a small smile. Then she was flying out with Shallan who gave them one last significant look. The one that said: this goes out for both of you.

Scary woman. Adolin was more afraid of what Shallan would do if she found out anything had happened to either of them. It’s why Adolin loved her.

He looked to Kaladin, who was slipping an arm through his bloody, torn shirt with a grimace and a hiss through his teeth.

And not just her, either.

Adolin kneeled in front of Kaladin on the edge of the bed, hands going up to pry Kaladin’s trembling fingers away from his shirt buttons, which he was currently struggling with. Kaladin let his hands drop to the bed, watching Adolin instead. Adolin ducked his head but didn’t look up to meet his eyes. He didn’t know what he might do again if he did.

Instead he focused on the task at hand, deftly buttoning Kaladin’s shirt. His fingers brushed against Kaladin’s bare chest underneath with every other button, careful to be gentle so as to not to hurt. It said a lot that Kaladin just let him, hands clenching on the edge of the bed as he supported himself on them. Adolin wished he would support himself on him instead.

He could feel Kaladin’s eyes on him, the warmth of him radiating from his body, so wonderfully awake and alive. He’d been so still, so cold before that it had scared Adolin more than he wanted to admit. Kaladin was a man who was always seen in action. It had been just wrong to see him down like this.

Adolin suppressed a shiver under the focus of that intense gaze. No doubt he was currently being assessed, seen right through, each part flayed apart and analysed by Kaladin’s eyes right now. He didn’t need to look to know what they would entail. He’d memorised those eyes, after all.

He did anyway. He was right. Kaladin’s eyes were currently blue from the stormlight, piercing clear. There was something appraising in his expression, but also a hint of confused and hesitant. It was always so storming difficult to read his expression. Kaladin was just a private man, closed off and reserved. But sometimes his eyes displayed such clear emotion that it was hard not to get swept up in them.

Adolin finished buttoning his shirt, not bothering to go all the way down, and patted his knee with a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Adolin said once again.

Kaladin flushed slightly but he ducked his head. “I. . .didn’t mind all that much,” he said.

Adolin blinked.

“I-“ —His voice cracked slightly— “meant, you used stormlight to save my life,” he said, voice sobering at the end. So did Kaladin’s expression.

“I was falling too,” he said gently.

“Still,” Adolin insisted. A dozen arguments fell on his tongue, but he held them. He would have done the same in Kaladin’s position. Still, he wished Kaladin hadn’t. Did that make him a hypocrite? Kaladin didn’t reply, perhaps already reading Adolin’s thoughts and choosing not to disagree.

They didn’t have time for this anyway.

“Can you walk?” Adolin asked, still kneeling.

Kaladin’s hand fell on his shoulder for support, tight with pain. “Let’s find out.”

Adolin shifted to wrap an arm around Kaladin’s waist, careful not to jostle his injured side, draped his arm around his own good shoulder, and stood up as he took Kaladin’s weight, as slowly as he could.

Kaladin still couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped his lips, stumbling slightly despite Adolin’s support, one hand reaching forward to blindly twist into Adolin’s shirt over his heart as he held himself up. Adolin gave him a few moments, watching with an increasingly disturbed expression as Kaladin heaved laboured breaths, bracing his other arm around his torso.

“Do you need more stormlight?” he asked, unable to help himself, needing any way to help Kaladin relieve his pain instead of just standing there and watching.

“No,” Kaladin denied immediately.

That honestly got his concern further up.

“I should. . . probably only take it in a more secure setting,” Kaladin explained as he caught the look on Adolin’s face. “Just to be safe. The wound itself is almost healed anyway.”

Adolin didn’t miss the way he didn’t mention the pain at all. But he chose to let it go. Kaladin limped along with him out the house, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes from the fading sunlight, blinking up at it. They were losing daylight quickly. They had to make it back soon.

They made slow progress out of the town. They hadn’t managed to get too further in in the first place, not with Kaladin bleeding out all the way through. Shallan caught up to them once they were a few feet away from the buildings. She went to Kaladin’s other side to try to help Adolin in supporting him, but quickly dropped Kaladin’s arm when he grunted in pain at the movement from his tender side. She patted his arm instead. Syl, who was in the air a few feet away came over once she spotted them.

“Kaladin, I don’t like this. These plains don’t offer any hiding spot at all. Our only hope is that they don’t march around the valley we came through,” Syl said as she flew over to Kaladin, looking marginally better than before.

Kaladin, still leaning heavily on Adolin, looking like death warmed over, said: “I could try to fly us back before they do.”

“Absolutely not.” “Are you insane?” said Adolin and Shallan respectively.

Adolin was mortified Kaladin had even suggested the idea. Kaladin at least had the decency to accept their immediate denial in grace, ducking his head instead of replying.

“That is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said in your life,” Syl said, “and you’ve said some stupid things, Kaladin.”

“Alright, I get it,” Kaladin replied, sliding his arm off Adolin’s shoulder with a grimace. He still braced his side with an arm but stood straighter on his own.

Adolin let him, although he watched  intently. “You okay?” he still couldn’t help asking, placing himself close. Just in case.

“I’m fine,” Kaladin said automatically, rather casually for someone who’d almost died a few minutes ago. But Adolin had been expecting the dismissive response, so he sighed, nodding in acceptance.

His own injuries were screaming at him to pay attention to them but survival won out. They had to get out of here first.

Shallan walked ahead a few steps, looking northward, and then the next time she turned it was Radiant standing there, blond hair and tall posture.

“Let’s go,” she said. “We can’t afford to waste any more time.”

“Agreed,” Kaladin replied.

And then they were moving.

Chapter Text

Kaladin didn’t know how any of them managed to hold out long enough to reach the alcove. By the time they slipped inside the rocky shelter by the hills, all three of them were pale and panting. The small alcove didn’t provide much for aerial cover, but it was far less exposed compared to the plain fields.

Kaladin immediately leaned against the wall, trying to catch his heaving breaths and to calm his racing heart from the short sprint.

“You’re bleeding again,” Shallan said, pointing at him.

Kaladin looked down. Sure enough, fresh blood was not only seeping through the bandages but also through his already torn and bloody shirt. He must have reopened the wound during the running.

“So are you,” Kaladin said, tipping his head towards Shallan’s shoulder, though his voice came out winded and breathless. He pressed a hand at his side, grimacing slightly at the warmth.

“My injury doesn’t make me look as terrible as you,” Shallan quipped, taking a few spheres out in her palm and extending them towards him.

Kaladin hesitated.

“Can’t you just share?” Adolin asked, not wanting either of them to stay injured for the other’s sake.

“I’m not so injured that it’s going to come in the way of our escape,” Shallan said, giving Kaladin a look.

And clearly you are, that look said.

“At least one of us should be at our best. I’m not going to heal all the way anyway,” Kaladin retorted.

“And is that the only reason?” Shallan replied.

Storm it, she had him now. But was it really his fault if he didn’t want to go through that pain again? And somewhere so virtually exposed that he couldn’t afford to be debilitated in case they needed to fight.

“What’s going on?” Adolin said, looking between the two of them. “Why won’t you take stormlight?”

Kaladin exhaled softly and took the spheres from Shallan.

“I guess we’ll see soon enough,” he said.

He hesitated only a beat longer, then breathed the stormlight in.

And immediately crumpled to his knees with a gasp. He planted a hand to the ground to keep from falling flat on his face, still gasping, wrapping an arm around his side as if he could physically hold back the throes of agony. Painspren doubled in existence around him, and Kaladin saw agonyspren rushing around him, feasting on his pain.

Adolin made a surprised sound, rushing over to his side to kneel half in front of him. He gripped Kaladin by both arms at the biceps, his broken arm grasping awkwardly, holding him up.

“Ouch,” Kaladin muttered in a low voice, in perhaps what was the biggest understatement of the century. The pain was significantly less than before, but it was still so much that it blurred his vision.

Adolin made a wounded sound, as if physically sick. Shallan—who had already experienced this once before—gave less of a reaction, but when Kaladin looked up through his blurring vision, he saw it was Radiant standing instead, purposely avoiding looking at him as she busied herself keeping an eye out from their hiding place. He appreciated her practicality. They couldn’t afford being taken by surprise.

“What’s going on? Why are you hurting?” Adolin looked between Kaladin’s crumpled form to Radiant, his voice confused and concerned.

Kaladin didn’t reply. Couldn’t really. And not just because he had no idea either why he was hurting. He could guess though. He didn’t know if Radiant replied or not. It was difficult to focus when he was trying hard not to breathe too deep so as to not aggravate his pain. It didn’t help, of course. He didn’t even think the pain was something physical anymore.

Syl flew in front of him in her full form, matching Adolin’s posture to kneel on the ground as she tried to swipe the sweat off his face with her translucent hands. He didn’t know if it worked or not but he was grateful for the coolness of her ephemeral touch on his skin, like a refreshing breeze fluttering on his face. He fluttered his eyes shut, letting Adolin take on more of his weight.

“Are you okay?” Adolin asked, shifting to grip him better.

There was still something fearful in his voice, expertly concealed. Kaladin nodded tightly—or he thought he did. It was difficult to tell through the pain.

“Okay, okay,” Adolin muttered close to his ear. “Take your time. Just— it’ll be okay.”

Kaladin made a vague sound in acknowledgment. He felt Adolin shift his position and the next thing Kaladin knew his forehead was resting on Adolin’s shoulder, one of Adolin’s large hands holding the back of his head and the curve of his neck. Kaladin gripped the front of Adolin’s shirt to ground himself, twisting his fingers tightly, distantly feeling the rapid flutter of Adolin’s heart beneath his touch.

It was nice. A reminder of Adolin’s life. His safety. That Kaladin wasn’t alone. At least he’d managed to save him back then. That made the pain worth it. Kaladin regretted nothing.

Again, slowly, as the stormlight flickered and came close to dying out, the pain ebbed. Kaladin had been expecting it this time, but it was still enough to knock the breath out of his lungs. The spell was brief this time; he had taken only a small portion of stormlight now that this time he wasn’t rocking on the verge of death, and he was expecting the pain. He moved slightly, struggling to take a bit of his own weight upon himself, still gripping Adolin tight just to conjure up the effort to lift his head.

Adolin let him, but kept his hands close as if to catch him if he fell. The concern in his startled blue eyes was almost too much for Kaladin to bear. Was that always there? The concern, the casual intimacy that went beyond friendship, the familiarity that didn’t feel uncomfortable. Was it something new or was Kaladin just letting himself acknowledge it was present? It still felt like the past few hours had been a hallucination his mind had conjured. It was too much—too good— to believe that the two most important people in his life could love him.

Shallan loved him. Loved him. Loved him. No matter how many times he said it in his head, it didn’t sound any less unreal.

If Kaladin thought about it much longer, he would think himself down a spiral and— worse, he would make himself believe that wanting them wasn’t a good idea. So he tried not to think about it at all. It wasn’t very easy, not when Adolin’s lips were right there in front of him, so close, so promising with the memory of something Kaladin hadn’t been able to appreciate properly the first time.

Kaladin realised he was staring blankly at Adolin, faces still close to each other, half in each others’ arms. He found himself leaning forward, feeling an echo of that warmth that had fluttered in his chest at the press of Adolin’s lips against his own. Before Adolin had pulled back, too quick for Kaladin to do something foolish—like kiss him back—looking guilty and mortified and Kaladin’s heart had dropped to his stomach, realising it was just a mistake, probably an impulse, born out of adrenaline and stress and relief—nothing more.

But then. . . Adolin had confirmed it. Confirmed what Kaladin had feared and secretly been hoping for.

Take the chance, Kaladin, Syl said, just to him, in his mind. Let yourself have this.

He heard Adolin’s breath hitch, eyes going slightly wide as Kaladin leaned forward. He didn’t pull back, keeping completely still as their mouths came so close that their breaths mingled together. Kaladin was still panting slightly, his breath taking some time to go back to normal.

He felt dizzy and insane, heady with pain and exhaustion that stripped him away of his usual restraint, making him want to take that plunge. A part of him registered that he would have never allowed this to himself was he currently not struggling to wade through the thick crem that was his thoughts at the moment.

But Adolin had done it first and he’d meant it.

So Kaladin could mean it too.

He saw Adolin’s eyes flutter shut, in acceptance or anticipation, he didn’t know. But he closed his own eyes, tilting his head, feeling the featherlight brush of that warmth and softness.

The pain spiked as the stormlight sputtered in a last attempt to heal as much as it could before it went out. Kaladin hissed, lips drawing back in a grimace against Adolin.

And just like that, the illusion shattered itself entirely. The world came rushing back. Kaladin was still injured. They were all still in danger and hiding. Adolin was still married and Kaladin was still broken.

And he was still wanted.

He could see it, in the way Adolin pulled back in apology but didn’t let go of him. In the guilt clear in his eyes but also something softer, looking as dazed as Kaladin felt. His pupils were blown slightly wider and there was a single anticipationspren popping out of existence beside Adolin’s head.

Kaladin pulled back, feeling shame at having let himself get distracted, and something else, something warm in his chest that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

“You good?” Adolin asked, voice slightly rough.

When Kaladin looked at him, Adolin gave him a reluctant smile. The one that said this was okay, that they would talk later. Kaladin released a breath. He hadn’t realised how afraid he’d been of ruining this by his own want. But Adolin’s smile made it clear that he hadn’t blown everything over.

“Yeah,” Kaladin said tiredly, leaning back to take his arms out of Adolin’s. “At least this means the wound is healing.”

He pulled the hem of his shirt up and pried the bloody bandages aside to take a look. Sure enough, he could see the telltale white glow of stormlight healing on his skin, like a small silver candle flame, before it fluttered weakly and disappeared, leaving his wound still red but less raw than before, scabbed over and slightly purple at the edges but significantly better. The agonyspren disappeared now that his pain wasn’t so intense, but a few orange painspren still clawed at his side. He saw Adolin trying to shoo them away and it was almost amusing to see his annoyance when they came back immediately.

A scrape of rock against stone. Both Kaladin and Adolin looked up to find Shallan standing off to the side, near the small entrance, staring at them. She startled slightly as if caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing, eyes flickering off to the side, a flush evident on her face. She cleared her throat, drowning off Pattern’s hum that Kaladin could swear sounded curious or. . . amused? Had she been. . .watching them? Kaladin felt less horrified at being seen by Shallan as he almost kissed her husband than he should have been. Besides, she’d done it too. That must be what had brought Shallan forth from Radiant anyway. Insane woman.

At least it wasn’t Radiant watching the two of them. She opened her mouth. Kaladin steeled himself against whatever clever joke she was going to make at their expense.

“How do you feel?” she asked instead, voice strained.

Kaladin blinked. “Like I got stabbed?” he ventured slowly. He felt Adolin’s good hand tighten around his arm at that, but Shallan cracked a smirk. Oh, now she was going to say something—

“Kaladin, you’re not going to believe this,” Syl said, “but you did.”

Kaladin gave her a sort of blank stare, but then couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips as she returned his stare. Then he winced, shifting slightly to find a better position.

“Ow,” he said, though he was still smiling. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry,” Syl replied, looking slightly guilty, but she was smiling too. Kaladin was so relieved to see her okay, and smiling again. He still couldn’t help ask though.

“Syl, truly, are you okay?”

Syl tilted her head, actually considering the question. “I think so,” she said finally. “Nothing feels wrong except. . .I don’t feel good when you take in stormlight.” Her voice softened at the end.

Kaladin shuddered slightly. “Me neither,” he said, voice haunted.

He didn’t know what that meant for his future as a Windrunner. He didn’t want to lose Syl, but what if using stormlight too much hurt her somehow?

Questions to be asked later.

He gave Syl another appraising look, felt Adolin giving the same look to him, but the two chose to remain silent.

“Tell me the truth, Syl,” Kaladin whispered, worry still not ebbing even at her reassurances.

“I’m fine, really! I just. . . I think I felt myself disappear for a moment back when you used stormlight in the air? And that hurt a lot. But I don’t think our bond is damaged because I can still feel you through it.”

The fact that she worded it like a question as if she wasn’t sure and so casually greatly disturbed Kaladin. He didn’t think Syl was lying or intentionally downplaying anything though. She didn’t have the same bad habits as him. He just didn’t want to—

A whoosh of air passed above their shelter. A shadow fell across the ground outside. Shallan came alert immediately, turning to peer outside. She cursed, turning back in.

“I’m assuming that’s not our help coming?” Adolin asked, standing slowly along with Kaladin, arms still hovering around him as if to brace him if needed. The world tilted and swayed dangerously beneath his feet and Kaladin had to scramble to grip Adolin’s shoulder with a hand to ground himself before he stumbled again, his other arm braced tightly around his throbbing side.

“Heavenly Ones,” Shallan said, pressing herself further in so as to not give away their location. “A group of them passing by. They must be returning from the battle.”

More shadows passing by, a rush of air so close Kaladin thought they were right above them.

“If they find us here there’s no escape,” Adolin said. “Either we get out now and risk being seen or get cornered in here.”

“I can keep moving,” Kaladin stated before either of them could turn to give him those poorly hidden concerned looks again.

“I have a feeling we should wait,” Syl said, “let them pass by.”

They looked at each other, each clearly trying to think of the right decision.

“Let’s just—“

A larger shadow fell across their entrance, shrouding them in darkness. Shallan leapt further in the alcove in alarm, whirling back to face the front. Kaladin sucked in a sharp breath—

A single Heavenly One hovered in the air right in front of them. Purple voidlight cracking in the air around it, eyes glowing faintly red, locking onto them with precision. All blades got summoned in their hands immediately. Shallan summoned both Pattern and Testament—something she only did when she had to. For a fraction of a moment, all of them stood very still. Then Kaladin pushed himself forward. He lifted his Sylspear horizontally in front of him, ignoring the sharp intake of breath that came from his side.

Shallan hissed at him to get back. Kaladin ignored it. All Heavenly Ones followed a general honour code, even if those that didn’t belong to Leshwi’s group weren’t so firm in upkeeping that rule. Leshwi hadn’t been here at this battle, or she never would have allowed her Heavenly Ones to chase them out of the battlefield the way they had done in the first place. But Kaladin suspected— hoped— that this Heavenly One would recognise his challenge of a one-on-one duel.

He floated in the air, silent, long robes fluttering behind him. Shadows kept passing them by behind him. All it would take, was one signal, just a small shout, any passing Heavenly One to notice this one hovering here, and they would have an army to deal with. It was death.

Kaladin extended his raised spear further, breath held in fear, ignoring the pain and the nausea and the exhaustion that threatened to pull him under any time now, hoping against hope that the Fused would accept his challenge, and not call for help from his companions.

It was basically a plea for mercy.

Adolin and Shallan stood equally still beside him, looking ready to jump in at any given instance. If the Heavenly One accepted his challenge, Kaladin would have to hold up to their deal as well. He’d have to fight alone.

Do you think you can do it? Syl asked.

I don’t know. But I have to try.

His side wasn’t nearly fully healed, but he wasn’t on the verge of death anymore. He felt weak and exhausted, but he could take in a single Heavenly One, couldn’t he?

Yes. Most likely. Maybe.

Then he remembered that he couldn’t use stormlight without dissolving into a shaking mess of pain.

Definitely not. But he’d try his chances.

“Kaladin, no.” Adolin’s voice behind him, as he must have just realised what Kaladin was doing.

Kaladin didn’t move, didn’t dismiss his blade and didn’t breathe. His muscles were locked together, each one pulled taut in anticipation.

The Heavenly One gave him an appraising look, humming a curious rhythm. He raised his blade in front of him, matching Kaladin’s posture. He heard Shallan inhale sharply beside him.

Kaladin didn’t react. He’d declared the challenge. He would accept it. Whatever it would entail. Even if it—

The Heavenly One dropped his blade.

Kaladin straightened in surprise, dropping his own Sylspear, which disappeared into a shimmer of air and then Syl was flying beside him. Shockspren popped into existence near his head.

A trick? Something to take his guard off? But no, the Heavenly One gave one last look to all three of them, something like indignation on his expression—but not directed at them, then he turned away. And flew ahead to meet his companions.

They all passed by their position without ever stopping, or giving any indication of knowing they were there. All three of them stood still for several minutes after they had passed by, still waiting for some Fused to turn back, to raise the alarm, to attack and kill.

None did.

It was as if some string had been cut. All three crumpled from their stances. Kaladin leaned against the wall and slid down heavily until he was sitting. Shallan dismissed her blades and Adolin knelt with both hands resting on his knees.

“That was intense,” he said, a sheen of sweat on his face.

Kaladin didn’t reply, mind still locked onto that Heavenly One. Why let them go? He basically had the kill guaranteed. Even if he had accepted the challenge, he would have at least succeeded in killing Kaladin.

Twice, they were allowed to escape. . .

“It was the same one,” he found himself saying, the realisation still settling inside his mind as the words left his mouth.

“What?” Shallan asked.

“It was the same one you were fighting, Adolin. The same one who left instead of killing us in the plains.”

He thought back to the fight. To the blade hitting his side and Adolin falling along with him. The Heavenly One hadn’t chased after that, despite the fact that it had been fighting them with deadly skill a moment ago.

Because the Magnified One broke the code. He attacked Kaladin in the middle of fighting Shallan. But that Heavenly One hadn’t even been under Leshwi’s command, and it still upheld a stricter code than Kaladin would have expected it to. Did that mean there was still hope for turning most over? If only to have them join Leshwi’s command?

“Someone else is coming,” Syl said in warning.

Kaladin stood up again. He’d think about the grand scale of the war later. Immediate survival first.

This time they didn’t wait inside. They slipped out of the alcove, sneaking around the rocks. This was why this place was so much more safer than the fields; it provided great cover. They just had to pass around this valley, and they’d be close enough to the battlefield to signal for help.

“Wait!” Syl said, freezing all three of them.

Three shadows fell over them, making them look up. Kaladin released a relieved breath.

Skar, Drehy and Lyn landed in front of them. “A crazy old man told us you needed help,” Skar said before he even landed, looking a little bewildered as he did so.

“That would be Red,” Shallan said. “He likes to make his illusions over the top.”

“You should be glad we even—“ Skar stopped short, looking at them then whistled appreciatively.

“Did you three decide to go join a fashion show in the middle of a battle?” Drehy asked, sarcasm dripping in his amused voice.

They all looked at each other, then down at themselves. They were covered in both red and orange blood but the red was definitely drowning out the orange, their cloths were torn and no doubt their faces were just as much of a mess. Skar threw an infused garnet at Kaladin, who caught it out of reflex but grimaced at the movement. He tossed it to Shallan instead, who took it without a word and began breathing in the stormlight, immediately looking better. Lyn frowned at Kaladin but didn’t say anything. She moved as if to throw another sphere for him but Kaladin gestured at her not to do it, holding up a hand slightly. She frowned again, but complied.

“We all followed him wherever he went,” Kaladin said, pointing a thumb at Adolin.

“I wanted a field break,” Adolin said.

“You could have just asked,” Shallan replied, walking over to the three Windrunners. “All right, I’ve had enough of these boys. Let’s go home where I can take a bath.” She extended a hand towards Lyn, who flushed slightly but took it.

“I think all of us need one,” she replied. The three of them didn’t look much better, having come directly from the battle.

“I don’t understand how humans deal with dirt. What’s the point of washing it all off when you’re going to go roll around in the crem again?” Syl asked, making Skar’s spren roll her eyes.

“I’d prefer not rolling around in the crem again at all actually,” Adolin said.

“Sorry we couldn’t arrange an Edgedancer. The battlefield is packed and we were expecting a fight here too,” Lyn said apologetically.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Kaladin grunted.

“We should go straight to Urithiru,” Adolin said, the only one who could hope to benefit from immediate Edgedancer healing. He didn’t look too good. Pale and barely on his feet and the swelling on his arm looked worse.

“Alright, a palanquin trip for three sodden riders coming up,” Skar said.

Kaladin was vaguely aware of being held close by someone during the flight—maybe Adolin, judging by the protective firmness in his grip. It felt strange to fly under someone else’s Lashings.

Kaladin wondered if he could ever fly on his own again. Syl fluttered around him comfortingly and Kaladin relished in her presence. He’d been too afraid the anti-light had hurt her somehow.

By the time they landed, Kaladin was barely able to keep straight on his own two feet. He dazedly registered being directed through the halls of Urithiru, too tired to summon any sense of pride at being seen as so weak. He waved in reassurance to any passing members of Bridge Four who startled to see him, throwing questions and panicked looks, crowding around him.

At one point he thought he saw Teft—or Dallet maybe, giving him that sergeant stare that somehow conveyed both disappointment and concern. Kaladin almost called out to him, to tell him that he was fine.

Then he remembered. And shook his head with a rueful smile. He hadn’t joined Teft yet after all. Kaladin was still here.

The next time he blinked, someone was pushing his shoulders down and his knees buckled until he sat down heavily on a bed. He looked down to find Shallan kneeling in front of him, asking him something. Kaladin watched mutely as he dimly noticed her hands gesturing towards him.

Oh, his cloths. Right, he was still covered in blood. But what was Shallan doing in his room? He felt too tired to be mortified about anything anymore.

He nodded slowly. Or he thought he did, because then he was laying down, and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Syl’s light flickered in front of his closed eyelids.

Stay? he tried to mumble, but he didn’t think he managed to form the thought.

Sleep, Syl replied anyway. I’ll be here.

Kaladin woke slowly, and where it was the pain that had made him so disoriented earlier it was now the lack of it that threw him off. When he opened his eyes, the room was thrown in a comfortable shade of darkness and the sheets were soft and warm beneath him.

“You’re awake,” Syl said first thing as he opened his eyes. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

“I’m hearing that a lot recently,” Kaladin rasped, suddenly realising how parched his throat was.

“Well, maybe because people are happy to see you awake,” Syl replied.

“People,” Kaladin echoed.

He knew she meant herself, and Adolin and Shallan. Or maybe she only meant herself and Kaladin couldn’t stop thinking about Adolin and Shallan. Really, what else was he supposed to do? After what they’d just done to him.

“You scared me, Kal,” Syl brought him out of his thoughts.

Kaladin exhaled slowly through his nose, closing his eyes again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“I. . .I felt you slipping away,” Syl continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. Her voice wavered slightly. She looked as if she had been thinking about this a long time during his sleep. “And this time I couldn’t do anything to reach you.”

“You did reach me though. I’m here because you did.”

“Shallan did,” Syl insisted, “if she hadn’t been there. . .” She shivered, looking away from him.

“I guess I owe both of you my life then,” Kaladin muttered.

Syl smiled slightly, throwing him a glance. Kaladin returned it tiredly.

“You can make up for it by never doing that again.”

“No promises.” Kaladin smiled, then frowned slightly. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

Syl shook slightly, as if taking in a shaky breath. “Not in any physical way, no. If you had me summoned as a blade then I guess it would have gone differently.”

Kaladin shook slightly just thinking of it. The memory of that ice seeping into his heart echoed in his bones and left him haunted. In a way, that cold was so much worse than the burning pain. And he swore he’d felt the connection tearing when he’d used stormlight. He’d thought for sure that saving Adolin would mean he would lose Syl. The person he cared for the most in exchange for the other half of his soul, and Kaladin had known he wouldn’t have survived losing any of them.

But Syl was here, Adolin was here, so was Shallan. And the only thing the anti-light broke was Kaladin himself. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” Kaladin mumbled, surprisingly finding the vulnerable words easier to say than they would have been any other time.

Syl smiled again, a small, sad thing. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

Huh.

Kaladin hadn’t ever thought the feeling could have gone both ways. He’d known, of course. How could he not? But. . .the realisation had never felt so physical until several people had made him understand recently that it was mutual. Looking at Syl now, it was obvious how upset she was. Not because she was disturbed or hurt by the anti-light but because Kaladin was.

He wanted to take that hurt away, tell her he was fine, that he would be fine. But he didn’t know if he was going to be, and he couldn’t lie to her. And he didn’t know how to help her any other way.

Because Kaladin wasn’t Syl, with her mischievous eyes and sly pranks. He wasn’t Adolin, with his sincere smile and honest charm. He wasn’t Shallan with her clever, sharp eyes and witty words.

But Kaladin wasn’t going to pity himself for being himself either. Because the pity, the self hate, it was the easy way out of trying hard enough. And he’d learned long ago that he always eventually took the hard way, so it was better to not resist it.

He raised a weak, shaky hand, movements feeling clumsy and uncoordinated, like his limbs didn’t belong to himself fully. His fingers passed through Syl’s ephemeral form instead but Syl flew around his hand and stood on it anyway. He brought his hand lower and Syl sat on his chest so he could see her clearly without straining himself.

So then Kaladin said the only thing he could think of saying, promise her the only thing he could do for her. He said: “I guess that means we should both try harder to not get ourselves killed. For each other.”

Whatever it was in his words, it worked. Syl’s smile grew wider, more real, less sad and it immediately hurt less to see it.

“That is the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” she said, her usual amusement trickling into her voice.

“Don’t get used to it,” Kaladin returned.

“But it’s not just for me, of course,” Syl continued, “you have other people to take care of yourself for too.”

Kaladin groaned at the tease in her tone. Syl laughed, so maybe the embarrassment was worth it. She patted him twice. “It’s okay. You’ve always had more people than you thought, Kaladin. You’re just realising it now. And. . .it wasn’t really your fault. You couldn’t have helped what happened.”

Kaladin’s throat went tight at the sombreness in her voice again, like she’d already forgiven him for something he hadn’t even apologised for yet.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, words coming out choked.

“You didn’t,” Syl said, soft and tender. “I don’t blame you for saving Adolin, Kal. And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he continued. “I don’t know how to choose.”

“You don’t have to choose. Not anymore, remember?”

Kaladin looked at her through his blurred vision, though this time he found it was because of the tears.

“You don’t have to be lonely, Kaladin. You don’t deserve it. No matter what you believe.”

He knew she was talking about something else now. Of confessions made in desperation then oaths given by choice. Of realisations about himself and disbelief when he found they went both ways.

“Do you think they meant it?” he found himself asking, eyes already getting heavy again from the weight of everything that had happened and everything that was yet to happen.

“I think they care more than you realise, Kal. And I know a sincere oath when I hear one.”

Kaladin didn’t reply for a long moment, parsing through the weight of possibility her words implied. It was a lot to take in. Before yesterday, Kaladin hadn’t even known the fact about himself that he liked both Adolin and Shallan. But then they’d both cracked him open in different ways and left warmth to bleed in his cold heart.

He never could have imagined before the day ending like it did, but now. . .it felt possible, only natural.

Syl let him think in peace as Kaladin’s thoughts became slower and heavier with sleep and exhaustion.

“I wasn’t lonely,” he said finally, voice soft. The one last truth that was absolutely important for him to say. “I had you.”

“You still do, Kaladin.”

And that was the last thing he heard before he drifted off again, content to at least believe Syl’s judgement if not his own.

Adolin had never seen Kaladin sleep this heavily before, and never for this long. He checked on him several times, each time expecting him to be finally awake, each time finding him deeply asleep. Adolin had taken a nap on the couch for a few hours after his wounds were healed and he washed himself, reported about the details of the battle and was now still waiting. And he was not anxious.

You’re drilling a hole in the carpet. You’re anxious , Maya said.

Adolin winced but didn’t stop. Kaladin didn’t look to be in pain. But Adolin was more anxious about what he’d say when he woke up. They hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk about everything that had happened. Kaladin had been dead on his feet when they returned as Adolin had directed him to the room. Adolin had half expected him to protest against it, and then had felt distinctly disturbed when Kaladin had said nothing, barely even replying to his questions.

Would Kaladin be angry when he woke up? Worse, would he be guilty or uncomfortable? Would he even want to be friends anymore after what Adolin had done?

He felt a sudden sense of panic at the prospect of losing Kaladin entirely, his company and his friendship, because of Adolin’s pursuit for more. Because this was. . .this was Kaladin. Adolin needed him, more than he’d ever realised. He’d kissed him on an impulse, but he’d immediately known that this wasn’t something influenced by the adrenaline of war or getting caught up in the moment. Especially not when the prospect of Kaladin’s rejection scared him less than the possibility of losing him entirely. Adolin needed him in. . .everything. In his life.

At first he’d been afraid he’d hurt Kaladin somehow by kissing him without warning, without permission. Adolin hadn’t even realised how much he’d wanted to kiss Kaladin for so long until he’d actually gone ahead and done it. His stomach still flipped when he thought of the warm peck of those lips. And he’d been queasy with nerves ever since, but then, Kaladin had almost. . .

Adolin hadn’t imagined that. There had been something soft and dazed in Kaladin’s eyes—and not just from the pain, something had flickered across Kaladin’s expression and it had made Adolin’s breath catch, made him lean in, made his heart soar and his skin tingle from anticipation. And then he’d hated himself for expecting more, for seeing things that weren’t there when Kaladin was obviously fighting through gut wrenching pain just to stay awake.

Because what if he’d imagined it? Kaladin and Shallan wanted each other. That much was obvious. Adolin could see it clear as the sky after a highstorm. But what if he was just coming in their way?

Shallan had fallen asleep some time ago as well, or she would have soothed away his worries by a quick clever word or two that made far more sense than his anxious mind would have liked. She had a way of reasoning with him that somehow both went above his head and made perfect sense.

You’re not going to lose him, Maya interrupted his spiral . You’re practically smitten with each other. I can’t believe it took you so long.

“I should check on him,” Adolin said in order to try not to think about Maya’s words.

For the tenth time. Maya almost sounded amused now.

Adolin blushed, but wasn’t deterred. “I’m just being careful,” he said as he opened the door.

Just in time to see Kaladin waking slowly, sleepily blinking his eyes open, then turning over with a yawn. Adolin saw him freeze as Kaladin came face to face with an asleep Shallan, watched him parse through confusion and shock as he visibly tried to piece two and two together, looking around the room to find it not his own but theirs.

Adolin had been surprised when Kaladin hadn’t even commented on the fact that they’d taken him to their rooms instead. Now he knew it was because he hadn’t even realised it.

Adolin stood frozen for some reason, watching Kaladin watch Shallan with something unreadable in his expression. Kaladin raised a hand—and Almighty it was still trembling slightly—hesitated, twirled a finger in one of Shallan’s curls then dropped his hand without touching her face, although it looked like that was what he wanted to do.

Oh, bridgeboy, Adolin thought, smiling slightly, feeling a pang of sudden affection in his heart.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Adolin said as he walked slowly in.

Kaladin’s head snapped towards him. His eyes darted once between himself and Shallan but at least he didn’t look guilty this time.

Kaladin grunted in response, voice rough with disuse, as he turned the other way to face Adolin. His eyes landed on something Adolin couldn’t see—presumably Syl by the way they followed nothing in the air. Adolin couldn’t see her but Kaladin waved tiredly towards the windowsill and grunted at something Adolin didn’t hear. Then his eyes searched the room past Adolin with a furrow in his brow, as if just registering where he was.

“How are you feeling?” Adolin asked instead of bringing attention to it.

Kaladin grunted again, scrubbing a hand at his face.

“I need an answer, Kal. Just—a yes or no. Are you alright?” he said, the memory of Kaladin crumpling in his arms and being debilitated with pain suddenly piercing his mind.

Something in his tone made Kaladin look up and Adolin hoped his expression was doing a better job hiding that fear in his veins than he suspected. Whatever Kaladin saw in Adolin’s face, his own expressions didn’t give away.

“Yeah,” Kaladin croaked, then cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m feeling better.” He tilted his head. “ Much better, actually.” He accompanied his words with a slight stretch of his body, arms going above his head and he looked surprised by the apparent lack of pain. Adolin found himself eyeing the lines of his body as each muscle stretched and strained deliciously, then slumped.

“That would be Renarin’s credit,” he said in explanation. “We got him on you as soon as we arrived. Looks like it worked.”

“How did the battle go?” Kaladin asked.

Before Adolin could reply however, Shallan made a noise of protest in her sleep, stretched—Adolin was really getting a good view today—then rolled over and propped her chin on Kaladin’s chest.

Kaladin balked from the sudden closeness but didn’t pull away.

“It’s criminal to talk about work this early,” Shallan said, poking a finger at Kaladin’s shoulder without opening her eyes. “Adolin, haven’t you told him the house rules?”

“I was just getting to that, dear.”

“It’s not my fault I don’t know the rules. I just got here, and without my knowing by the way.” Kaladin scowled at Shallan, who didn’t see it with her closed eyes, but popped her tongue out at him anyway.

“You didn’t just get here. You’ve been here for hours. You sleep like the dead, you know that?” Shallan said.

“What am I even doing here?” Kaladin asked.

“Where else would you be,” Adolin said, voice coming out softer than intended.

Kaladin looked at him, surprise flickering in his eyes, quickly concealed.

Kaladin didn’t reply, instead his eyes flicked over to the shrouded sphere bowl and Adolin saw the calculation in his mind.

“Shallan, can you knick me real quick?” Kaladin said, offering his palm to Shallan distractedly.

Shallan raised her head slightly and bit his hand.

“Ow!” Kaladin exclaimed, more in surprise than pain. “Storming— insane woman—did you just bite me?”

“You were the one who asked,” Shallan said. Adolin saw the moment her eyes showed she was thinking of something dirty to say, and he grinned himself, practically hearing it without her ever saying anything. But Shallan held herself back, perhaps just as nervous as Adolin felt about all this. Because this was somehow simultaneously familiar and new ground. The banter, the teasing, the jokes. But there was also a weight around them, as if the air had absorbed all the words they were dancing around and now it wouldn’t be cleared until they were said.

By the look that passed across Kaladin’s features, he got it too, because he looked simultaneously flustered and unwell.

Before Adolin could scramble to think of a way to smooth it over, Kaladin stretched an arm above Shallan’s head and pulled the cloth away from the spheres, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

Kaladin closed his eyes, as if steeling himself. Adolin suddenly felt weak in the knees to imagine that pain in Kaladin’s body again. Renarin had healed Kaladin fully after long, torturous hours of work, and had confirmed the anti-light wasn’t in his system anymore. But. . .what if using stormlight at that critical moment meant Kaladin could never use it again?

Adolin felt sick in the stomach from guilt and fear. He saw Shallan squeezing Kaladin’s tricep in support, giving Adolin a look that said she understood exactly what he was thinking right now.

Kaladin’s eyes locked with something above him. Adolin still couldn’t see Syl but apparently she was here. He looked in her general direction according to Kaladin’s line of sight and gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

“One way to find out,” Kaladin said in response to something from Syl they couldn’t hear but understood. His expression became resolute, and he breathed in. Silvery-white stormlight pulled towards Kaladin immediately.

A beat passed. Then another. And another. Kaladin gave no indication of anything happening. Adolin thought his heart was going to rip out of his chest by how fast it was thudding against his ribs. He’d never felt so afraid for any battle in his life.

Kaladin opened his eyes, disbelieving and shocked. “That. . .didn’t hurt.” His voice was slow and careful, as if he was still waiting for the pain to hit.

It never did.

Adolin released a heavy breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His legs felt weak from relief and he practically fell on a chair behind him. He saw Syl finally, drifting down to bury her face into Kaladin’s neck and Kal brought a hand up to cup around her form.

“Well, of course it didn’t hurt,” Shallan said, breaking the heavy, relieved silence with a voice that sounded shaky despite the humorous tone. “My teeth aren’t made out of anti-light.”

Adolin huffed in response to that, still feeling on edge from the nerves.

Kaladin paused for a moment. “I hate that I can actually imagine you trying to do something like that.”

“That’s a good idea actually,” Shallan said. “No one would expect my teeth to be my ultimate weapon.”

“And you bite hard enough for it to work,” Kaladin grumbled, rubbing the spot on his palm despite the stormlight having healed it already. Of course, Shallan had needed to bite hard enough so the stormlight had something to heal in the first place.

“You hurt yourself on purpose despite not being sure if the healing worked?” Adolin asked, feeling a little sick as he said it. He’d let Kaladin do it, so he didn’t really have a say in this but still.

“That was kind of the point, Adolin,” Kaladin said. “I’d really thought. . .” he trailed off, face going haunted with words unexplained. He didn’t need to. They’d all feared the worst. Kaladin scrubbed a hand over his face. Adolin squeezed his shoulder, making him look up at him.

Something flickered in his expression again before it shuttered slightly.

“You two have a few things to explain,” Kaladin said, looking at Shallan. He took a deep breath. “And. . .as do I.”

Kaladin placed a hand on top of Adolin’s, intertwining their fingers. Syl flew on top of their conjoined hands and gave Adolin a very clear wink that didn’t leave much for interpretation. Still, Adolin’s breath left his lungs when Kaladin gave him the look. The one that was soft and intense and promising and uncertain all at once. The one that made all of Adolin’s doubts fly away instantly like windspren shooed away by a passing breeze, that told him that his uncertainty had been for nothing, fears of an idle mind.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Kaladin display his emotions so freely as he did now. And it told Adolin everything he needed to know.

Kaladin took another breath, and looked to Shallan, who was watching them with slightly wide eyes and caught breath, looking as overwhelmed and delighted as Adolin felt, despite the fact that it was him currently trying not to lose it at the feeling of Kaladin’s hand around his own, warm and firm.

Kaladin waited until Shallan met his eyes, then his lips quirked up in a quiet, amused smile. He yanked suddenly at Adolin’s arm, drawing a surprised yell from him as he tumbled onto the bed along with them. Shallan shrieked in surprised, half surprised-half delighted. Adolin was afraid of accidentally aggravating Kaladin’s injury, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to hurt him, he settled onto the bed with them, getting comfortable, maybe even thinking of taking a nap again.

Right up until Kaladin yanked him closer and pressed their lips together. Adolin let out a surprised sound, which quickly dissolved into a groan as he kissed back, mind still catching up with the present and it was quickly turning into mush for him to do anything other than part his lips wantonly. Kaladin was pulling away far earlier than Adolin would have liked but when he blinked his eyes open—when had he even closed them?—he was breathing heavily, his own eyes wide and mouth still parted expectantly. When he shook his thoughts into starting again reluctantly, he found Kaladin giving him an uncharacteristically vulnerable look, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.

Adolin felt his heart soar in his chest, like a baby Windrunner taking flight for the first time, as he realised what had just happened. And what it meant.

It must have shown on his face because Kaladin gave him an amused look, something mischievous dancing behind his eyes at having caught Adolin off guard.

“I think I get to do that now,” he said, the tease in his voice clear.

Oh, Adolin was going to kiss him senseless later for that.

Kaladin looked back to Shallan, unaware of the turn Adolin’s thoughts had taken.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Shallan said, something teasing but breathless in her voice. “I’m enjoying quite the view.”

“Not so fast. You have a few things to explain as well, young lady,” Kaladin replied.

“For one thing. . .” he said, “where’s that list I was promised?”

Shallan grinned, propping herself up on him better. And kissed him in return for it.