Happy Monday, Cosmere Chickens, and welcome to this week’s installment of our Wind and Truth reread! In these chapters, we’re digging into some genuinely sweet Adolin and Kaladin sections (including one of the most beautiful and touching moments of the book), as well as Szeth’s showdown against two Honorbearers at once. Thankfully, he’s got Nightblood to lend a… hand? And of course, we’ve got Drew to analyze all those juicy bits of lore in Shadesmar. So buckle up and prepare to dive into that sea of beads, Chickens!
We haven’t been seeing a lot of deep theorizing on the social media channels we monitor lately, so if you’ve got some juicy Cosmere theories you’d like to see us tackle, please bring them to our attention in the comments!
The book has been out long enough that most of you will hopefully have finished, and as such, this series shall now function as a re-read rather than a read-along. That means there will be spoilers for the end of the book (as well as full Cosmere spoilers, so beware if you aren’t caught up on all Cosmere content).
Paige’s Commentary: Plot Arcs
This week, Sanderfans, it’s time to spend time with our boys—the two on their buddy cop quest and the non-Radiant who eschews Oaths! Chapter 52 is titled “A Perfect Moment” and begins with Adolin, who goes to see Yanagawn to let the boy—man—practice with his Shardplate. The young emperor has fun demolishing dummies and flailing about in Adolin’s plate for a time. This will be helpful to him when he becomes an Unoathed, though I can’t help but imagine the rest of them flailing about in that future scene. I’ll laugh about it then!
We see Adolin and Yanagawn sit down to play towers, which marks the beginning of real growth in their relationship, as they become closer throughout the book. Adolin is like a big brother here, though I’ve seen people describing him as a father figure in this book. I rather think that Yanagawn needs a big brother in his life, though—someone to show him the ropes, teach him how to fight, how to maneuver, how to use both his mind and his heart on the battlefield.
Adolin wins their game, of course, but he questions Yanagawn about why he lost, and the young man is surprisingly insightful. He’ll continue to learn under Adolin’s tutelage, but these first steps toward a closer relationship are very touching.
One notable point is their discussion about oaths. Adolin doesn’t care for them. He talks of how his father and the Alethi armies took oaths and did terrible things—and were those oaths supposed to excuse those acts? Because the oaths made them honorable men?
Perhaps this is one reason that Adolin isn’t Radiant. This, and the fact that he won’t abandon Maya. He doesn’t believe in the oaths, and we’ll eventually see that personal promises mean more to him.
Another tidbit to note during Adolin’s POV is the friendly guard he speaks to, the one who seems to be poking fun at him by coming up with bizarre names for different variants of towers. He finds out that this soldier is Commandant Kushkam’s son, and we’ll see more of him later on.
Kaladin’s POV in this chapter is simply lovely. He’s making better stew, he’s learning to play the flute. And he dances a kata with Syl (who initially takes the form of a spear), which develops into an actual dance with Syl. This moment has been captured by artists and even one animator on TikTok—just Google “Kaladin dancing with Syl” to see what’s available.
This is such a touching scene because during the kata/dance, Kaladin realizes that he’s allowed to be happy. He has doubts, but he remembers the thought warriors that he’s told Szeth about, then pushes the negative thoughts away. He thinks that this may be the happiest he’s ever been.
And that’s coming from Kaladin Storming Stormblessed! Think about it: If Kaladin can find happiness, can’t we all? So many people love these books and their message because they can relate to characters like Kaladin and Shallan and Renarin and Navani… and on and on. Brandon has written these wonderful, flawed, broken, strong, and determined characters with attributes and attitudes and maladies that we can all see in ourselves. And to see the “gloomiest” of those characters finding his way toward happiness is kind of amazing, to be honest.
Chapter 53 is titled “Makari Sin” and we’re back in a Szeth POV where we learn that “Makari Sin” is the old Shin name for Shadesmar. Szeth is just sitting there, having some stew, when he inexplicably finds himself in Shadesmar, drowning in beads. Using Stormlight, he manages to exert some control over the beads and rises above the surface to see the Elsecaller shaman, Pozen. Then he’s suddenly ambushed, finding himself under attack by the Edgedancer shaman and engaging in a fierce battle with her before he finds Nightblood, glowing in all of its glory now that it’s in Shadesmar. I won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow account of the battle as you’ve already read it, but I will say that Nightblood was truly glorious.
What wasn’t glorious was Szeth’s spren. Szeth was expecting the spren, an ancient warrior, to assist him with his fight, and desperately asks the spren to locate a weapon. After first claiming that it shouldn’t interfere, the only contribution the spren makes is to retrieve the bead of a spoon for Szeth to fight with. Instead, Szeth throws it at the spren. (It was actually pretty funny, despite the dire situation.)
But, as Szeth says to the spren at the end of the chapter, when you’re living an illusion, be careful not to spoil it—because once it’s spoiled, it’s difficult to convince people again. I feel as if this is the beginning of the spren becoming more humble. It totally failed to come through in Shadesmar when Szeth needed it the most, and it will now take a step toward being the awesome spren that we meet in The Sunlit Man. Sorry you were so useless Shademar, though, Aux!
Lyndsey’s Commentary: Character Arcs and Maps
Chapter 52 begins with Jezrien and Vedel in the chapter arch. Jezrien could be here to represent Kaladin, and also Adolin, who’s teaching Yanagawn about battle tactics. His attributes are protecting and leading, and Adolin is teaching the young emperor how to lead on the battlefield. As for Vedel, she is also likely pulling double duty on this one. She’s often representative of Adolin, whose Shardblade was that of an Edgedancer. But Kaladin is also exemplifying her attributes of loving and healing. He’s learning to love himself, and healing himself just as much as he’s healing Szeth.
Chapter 53’s arch is a three-fer; we’ve got Nale (suitable for a Szeth POV), Vedel of the Edgedancers, and Battah of the Elsecallers. All of these are pretty self-explanatory; Nale we already explained, and Szeth’s fighting the Edgedancer and Elsecaller Honorbearers.
Adolin
Once, he could always count on Renarin being nearby—but now he was Radiant, and although he wasn’t a Windrunner, he was learning to fly. While Adolin just kept going as he always had. Same old Adolin.
[…]
“Thank you,” Yanagawn said, standing up. “For all of it, Adolin.” He paused. “How is it you’re not Radiant?”
Adolin covered a wince. That question.
That storming question.
Here we’re seeing Adolin getting down on himself for his “failings” again. If only he knew how important this supposed “failure” will be at the end of this book! He and his Unoathed are set up to be the only superpowered humans left when the Radiants’ powers fall.
Adolin’s discussion with Yanagawn about oaths later on is very interesting as well, considering where Adolin winds up. He says:
“My father made oaths, and so did all the highprinces, before the Radiants were refounded—back when they were all burning down villages and slaughtering people. Their actions were considered honorable because they kept their storming oaths. Who cares about the suffering they caused, right? Everyone was honorable! That’s what matters!”
He has a very good point. Adolin, even though he’s a nearly perfect soldier, is surprisingly self-reliant and individualistic. He’s not one to just take an order that he’s morally against without thinking it through. And the idea that an oath is sacrosanct simply doesn’t make sense to him, as he goes on to explain:
You know what I’d admire? A man who gave an oath, then realized it was storming stupid and broke it—apologized—and moved on with his life, determined not to make that kind of mistake again.”
“Some might call that hypocrisy.”
“No, it would just be—”
Adolin cut off. Sometimes a hypocrite is just a man in the process of changing. Storming Dalinar Kholin had written that in his storming book. People quoted it all the time.
Dalinar was always there, everywhere Adolin looked.
Oh, Adolin. Poor Adolin. He may not be carrying quite as much baggage as Shallan or Kaladin, but let’s face it, that’s a HIGH bar. He’s got a lot going on between questioning his own self-worth and his warring opinions of his father.
Yanagawn
“That is,” Yanagawn said, his voice echoing in his helm, “the single most satisfying thing I’ve ever done.”
Speaking of poor kids, Yanagawn’s barely had a single moment of pure, unadulterated fun in his life since he got promoted to Emperor. But now Big Brother Adolin’s here to shake things up and not only let him cut loose a little, but in the same breath teach him skills that may keep him alive should he need to use the Shardplate to defend himself.
“He… isn’t allowed to talk to me,” Yanagawn admitted.
Oh, right. “Is that hard?”
“The hardest part, Adolin. Harder than being a spectacle. Harder by far than my lessons. It’s the only thing I truly miss from the old days.”
Being held in such high regard that no one is allowed to talk to you, much less befriend you, is a hell of a lonely way to go through life. Everything is duty, and responsibility. There’s no room for individuality.
Until Adolin shows up, anyway.
Battle Tactics
“So… you would retreat if you want to preserve your cards for the next fight. Or if you think the risk is too high to try for victory?” Yanagawn hesitated. “But you never retreat when there is only one battle, and all is already wagered. […]”
I really love how Sanderson uses towers to illustrate and teach in-world battle strategy. It’s genius, really. I believe it was in one of the early episodes of Writing Excuses that he talked about how much he loved the names of the fighting stances in The Wheel of Time, and how each one managed to evoke an image of what the stance was without needing to resort to a bunch of descriptive language. I think he was trying to accomplish something similar here, though admittedly some of the battle tactic names are more easily grasped than others.
Kaladin
“I always wondered why he told me that story. The story about a people who followed a king who was, in the top of his tower, dead. About a people who learned their actions were their own responsibility. Seems odd, doesn’t it? I already knew that the lighteyes weren’t as valorous as they claimed, and that my actions were my own.”
“Maybe it wasn’t about the lighteyes,” she said, “but other forces you let steer you.”
We’re getting awful deep into the psyche on this one. What forces do we think those could be? Kaladin’s own depression?
When I learned to play it not with my lips, but with my heart. I can’t fathom what that might mean.
As someone who’s played flute (for fun, not professionally) for about twenty years, I relate a lot to Kaladin’s musical journey here. Learning the fingering, the notes, the embouchure… That’s the first half of the battle. Once you manage to get the muscle memory for those things, a whole new journey begins, where you can begin to feel the music and play improvisationally. It requires a certain mindset, where you have to sort of… let go of control and just let the music flow through you. And letting go of the things that Kaladin’s been clinging to is very much the point of his character arc for this book.
Something had… loosened in Kaladin when he’d let go of Tien’s death, and Teft’s death as well.
Kaladin’s journey of acceptance has certainly been a long one.
I had this…mental need to help, so when I failed, it broke me. Even more than the loss of a dear friend should have, because I was so defined by the idea of protecting others.” He finished writing and changed the paper, in case a message came for them. “Still, I genuinely want to help.”
“Rough,” Syl said quietly. “Because, like me, the problem you and the real you are all mixed up together.”
Rough indeed, Syl. Perhaps what Kal really needs is the ability to determine when to help, and when to let go.
If he could be doing anything at that moment, what would it be? What would make him happy? He let himself answer truthfully.
He wanted to go dancing with Syl.
And so begins one of the most beautiful and touching scenes in the entire series so far, as least in my opinion. This dance is hauntingly beautiful, and perfectly expresses the deep connection between Kaladin and Syl. The fact that they can share in this moment of mutual joy and beauty really shows just how far they’ve both come.
Tonight, his dance wasn’t about killing, or even about training. It was about the kata, and his love for what he’d learned.
Excuse me while I tear up a little. Much like with the flute (which also comes into play a little later), Kaladin’s learning to let go of all the trauma that’s controlled his life so far and just enjoy living,
He danced through it, and Syl danced with him, both riding the eddies of the Wind. And if he’d ever known a perfect moment in his life—crystallized joy, like light made into something you could hold—this was it.
When I read through this for the first time, I was convinced by this point that Kaladin was doomed. I’m so happy that that prediction turned out to be (mostly, technically) false.
Szeth
Starting off Szeth’s chapter here with a little map to show his and Kaladin’s progress. They won’t be needing to go to the Edgedancer monastery, as the Honorbearer gets taken out in the ambush in this chapter.
“Why?” Szeth shouted. “Tell me why!”
Once, he had never asked why. Strange, how he should be so insistent now. He’d changed, hadn’t he.
Kaladin’s lessons are having an impact.
Here the whispers were louder. In this realm, was he closer to the souls he’d killed?
I often wonder whether these voices are real or just a manifestation of Szeth’s guilt and trauma. In this series, it could easily be either.
“I shouldn’t interfere…” the spren said.
“Then I will die, and you will have no squire,” Szeth snapped, letting go and allowing the flowing beads to separate them. He perhaps should not have spoken so demandingly. Strangely, his reverence for his spren had begun to wane.
This is the most important character moment in this chapter, I think. Most of it’s taken up by action, but this one moment where Szeth gets fed up with his spren’s bullshit is a great bit of forward momentum. Part of learning to think for oneself is recognizing when the orders you’re being given are coming from an unreliable source, and Szeth’s starting to realize that his spren isn’t necessarily something to worship.
Yes, Szeth did find something to do with the spoon. He threw it at the spren, hitting him square in the forehead.
I just had to point this one out, as it made me laugh out loud.
Drew’s Commentary: Invested Arts & Theories
All right, we’re back with something interesting in the epigraphs!
It is to this end that I have identified and made particular note of three distinct factions of Skybreakers, even during Nale’Elin’s days of direct leadership, and this is to be found in my third coda.
Three distinct factions, eh? We know of Nale’s, obviously, and later we hear about Billid and the Skybreakers who followed him under “old Skybreaker oaths.” The impression I got from the text is that Billid’s group were more along the lines of “spirit of the law” people rather than Nale’s “letter of the law” philosophy. But who is this third faction, and what separates them from Nale and Billid?
The second epigraph this week is also interesting, especially given the context of discussion around the Skybreakers:
I wish not to engage to the reader their faults, rather to make it clear that an order so determined to care for the unwanted, the unguarded, and the disenfranchised would obviously have passionate disagreement in how to best attend to the needs of the lowly and disregarded.
This reads a lot more like the writer of Words of Radiance has suddenly switched to talking about the Edgedancers (though the epigraph for chapter 54, next week, throws a wrench in that). Certainly, this mindset doesn’t fit at all with Nale’s current incarnation of the Skybreakers, who really couldn’t seem to care less about “the unwanted, the unguarded, and the disenfranchised” or looking after the small people of Roshar.
Perhaps this is the third faction, to go with Billid’s “spirit of the law” Skybreakers and Nale’s hardliners. A group that could easily work hand-in-hand with Edgedancers. If Billid’s Skybreakers are the lawyers, and Nale’s are the SWAT teams, maybe these Skybreakers are the community service officers.
Meanwhile, over in Shinovar, Kaladin practices the flute for a while, and talks to Syl about the Wandersail:
“I always wondered why he told me that story. The story about a people who followed a king who was, in the top of his tower, dead. About a people who learned their actions were their own responsibility. Seems odd, doesn’t it? I already knew that the lighteyes weren’t as valorous as they claimed, and that my actions were my own.”
I’ve always thought that the story of the Wandersail and the revelation at the end of The Way of Kings was one of Brandon’s cleverest bits of writing. I know not everyone pays attention to chapter titles (especially in books like these, with over 100 chapters per book), but the chapter where Dalinar goes back into the Stormfather’s vision and is told that Honor is dead is titled “In the Top Room”… and that is such a perfect full circle with Hoid’s story.
Here, Kaladin is searching for meaning in the story despite already knowing the meaning—but it’s not the meaning he thinks it is. Or, rather, the meaning he thinks about is only one of many meanings, and he’s missing the forest for the trees.
And while Kaladin is busy pondering stories and dancing with Syl, Szeth is getting abducted into Shadesmar for one of the very best fight scenes in the book—maybe the best.
Something exploded from the beads to Szeth’s left. A younger Shin woman in grey robes, a bow strapped to her back. She bore the Edgedancer Honorblade: a narrow sword almost six feet long, with a curved crossguard.
Szeth, with no immediate weapon, against both Elsecaller and Edgedancer Honorbearers. It’s a great scene with some excellent action.
But it’s also a great scene for something else.
Szeth? I’m here! Use me!
Fans have been speculating about Nightblood’s appearance in the Cognitive Realm for years. Pretty much since the moment it showed up in Words of Radiance, in fact. And Brandon has remained resolutely tight-lipped about it until now.
In that hand he held not a jet-black sword, but a blazing, radiant line of golden light. Glowing like the sun itself, so bright it made the Edgedancer gasp and stumble back, shading her eyes with her left hand.
Nightblood literally and figuratively shines in this sequence, revealing to Szeth that it has been “chatting” with the Honorblades he’s collected, and thought it would be able to give Szeth further Radiant abilities. As we see later on in the book, Nightblood isn’t wrong—it was just jumping the gun a bit.
And one last comment on a fascinating moment:
Szeth stabbed into the air. His hand grew cold as the Honorblade drew Stormlight from him in a rush, and the weapon’s tip sliced through reality itself, cutting a slit like in the stomach of an enemy, maybe four feet across. It bowed outward, a hole just big enough for him to pass through.
We’ve seen Elsegates a couple times now, though we’ve never seen one from the point of view of its creation. Hoid witnesses Jasnah’s arrival at the end of Words of Radiance, and Dalinar’s crew just recently saw the arrival of humanity on Roshar. Neither of those Elsegates seemed to be as… primal… as this one. The visual of Szeth literally slicing reality with the Honorblade is admittedly very cool, but it also makes me wonder if there are simply different kinds of Elsecalling at work, just as there are different kinds of Lightweaving in the Cosmere and different kinds of healing. Ishar certainly didn’t have a Blade of any kind to open the gate from Ashyn to Roshar, after all.
What do you think? Is this just a cool visual, or is Szeth genuinely doing something different from previous forms of Elsecalling?
Next week, we reach the end of another Day, and we get one of the most intensely Cosmere interludes in the whole series. Stay tuned!
We’ll be keeping an eye on the comment sections of posts about this article on various social media platforms and may include some of your comments/speculation (with attribution) on future weeks’ articles! Keep the conversation going, and PLEASE remember to spoiler-tag your comments on social media to help preserve the surprise for those who haven’t read the book yet.
See you next Monday with our discussion of chapter 54 and Interludes 7 and 8!
I had one real complaint about the dancing scene, which was that Szeth was left out. So much was made of his dancing in his first flashbacks that his absence here, even as an observer, was significant.
I also find it interesting how Adolin’s feelings about oaths presages the Tanavast chapters later. And it is also reflected in the epigraphs where the Skybreakers are split into Letter of the Law (Oath), Spirit of the Law (Promise), and, I believe, Reason For the Law (Act with Honor regardless of the Law/Do the Right Thing).
I wonder if Books 6-10 will rely heavily on the dichotomy between oaths and personal promises (at least with the distinction that Brandon has written between them). I would not be surprised as we have Honor seems to begin to grow/evolve at the end of WaT. If Honor is able to have less of black and white dichotomy regarding the keeping of Oaths, that could have negative effects on TOdium. I suppose this is Dalinar’s end game.
We will most likely see Billid and the dissenting Skybreakers in Books 6-10. No way Brandon introduced them to only have them not appear in future books. Same with Stormwall. I think he will be a key secondary character. Perhaps elevate to the status of Navani (starting out as secondary who supports a primary character’s arc but eventually over the series becomes a primary character).
That begs the question. Will the Skybreakers and other Knights Radiant who fought for Odium be able to use Retribution’s Light? Or will they have no access to Surges any more
We know those KR’s in Urithiru still have access to their surges. But I doubt they will be able to access them if they are able to leave. Perhaps they will. The same way Navani was able to access they Rhythm of Honor before bonding the Sibling (when she and Rabionel created the Rhythm of War and Navani was able to generate Tower Light with the help of the Sibling). As long as the Sibling and/or humans remember the songs of Cultivation and Honor, then perhaps they can produce such sounds and have access to those Surges. Doubtful. We will have to see.
I wonder if exposing Warlight (?) to the right rhythms can split it into Voidlight and Stormlight for containment in spheres.
I have nothing deep and profound to say, but I do have a few reactions/emotions.
I love how Adolin has taken Gawx under his wing and is letting him learn about leadership, tactics, and yes, also Shardplates. Poor Gawx needed somebody with whom he could be just himself, and I love watching their bond grow deeper and deeper. Gawx is just such a perfect little brother substitute to Adolin who might need it as much as Yanagawn.
Szeth’s fight was just epic. Alone and practically armless against two honorbearers? And he did not only hold his own, but beat them. His reputation was more than deserved. And of course, storming brilliant Nightblood! So lovely to see it as bright as it sees itself (feels wrong to write “it”). Nightblood is simply the best. And I join in the club of those laughing out loud when Szeth threw 12124 with the spoon; even copied that section to a friend who has never read the SA (but I’m working on it).
Regarding Kaladin and Syl’s dance … sigh. It was just so beautiful. It is one of my very-very favourite scenes in the book and the whole series. To see these two share this moment, to see Kal realize he deserves happiness, to see them just DANCE and feel the joy, feel their connection to each other, letting everything else go… I might have become a bit, or more than a bit teary-eyed there. A perfect moment indeed.