Welcome back to the Words of Radiance Reread on Tor.com! Last week, we saw Stormform Eshonai sorting her people into stormform-wannabees and everyone else, leaving us to wonder whether the real Eshonai was somehow trying to protect the remnant. This week, we rejoin Kaladin in his cell for story-time with Wit. Bafflement ahoy!
This reread will contain spoilers for The Way of Kings, Words of Radiance, and any other Cosmere book that becomes relevant to the discussion. The index for this reread can be found here, and more Stormlight Archive goodies are indexed here.
Click on through to join the discussion!
Chapter 59: Fleet
Point of View: Kaladin
Setting: Kholin warcamp prison
Symbology: Spears, Nalan, Joker
IN WHICH Kaladin complains about his too-nice prison cell; he hears a lot of unintelligible shouting down the hall; he considers trying to draw Stormlight from the lamp outside his cell; he also considers the possibility of breaking out; he argues with Syl about Dalinar, Elhokar, and Syl’s statement that it would be different this time; Wit makes snarky remarks from a bench outside the cell; Kaladin is surly about it; Wit begins playing his strange musical instrument, asking Kaladin what he sees; Kaladin finally responds, and Wit builds the story of Fleet around Kaladin’s responses; the interpretation is unclear; Wit leaves.
Quote of the Week
“Dalinar can go rot. He let this happen.”
“He tried to—”
“He let it happen!” Kaladin snapped, turning and slamming his hands against the bars. Another storming cage. He was right back where he’d begun! “He’s the same as the others,” Kaladin growled.
Syl zipped over to him, coming to rest between the bars, hands on hips. “Say that again.”
“He…” Kaladin turned away. Lying to her was hard. “All right, fine. He’s not. But the king is. Admit it, Syl. Elhokar is a terrible king. At first he lauded me for trying to protect him. Now, at the snap of his fingers, he’s willing to execute me. He’s a child.”
“Kaladin, you’re scaring me.”
“Am I? You told me to trust you, Syl. When I jumped down into the arena, you said this time things would be different. How is this different?”
She looked away, seeming suddenly very small.
“Even Dalinar admitted that the king had made a big mistake in letting Sadeas wiggle out of the challenge,” Kaladin said. “Moash and his friends are right. This kingdom would be better off without Elhokar.”
Syl dropped to the floor, head bowed.
It’s impossible, now, not to see the beginnings of the broken bond in this argument. ::sniffle::
Also: Kaladin, if things aren’t any different this time, it’s your own storming fault. Quit blaming everyone else—especially Syl—for the results of your impetuous behavior. Sure, Elhokar did something stupid. But you did something stupid first, setting up the situation. Stop playing I’m Just A Victim Here, and admit your own culpability.
Question: Why doesn’t Syl point this out to him? Does she not see it? Or is she not allowed?
Commentary
Thus begins Part Four: The Approach. While the title may have many other implications, the most transparent is that this entire Part is leading up to the march on Narak and the Everstorm. The last chapter in Part Four includes the final bit of decision-making, and the first chapter in Part Five is the staging of the combined armies.
For now, though… here sits Kaladin, sulking in his cell, convinced that everything is someone else’s fault—the lighteyes, the king, the spren, anyone but himself. He’s a bitter, bitter man right now, and that bitterness is already beginning to work its way out in all manner of downward-spiraling ways. It’s not only making him miserable, it’s making Syl miserable, and it’s eating away at their bond. He’s letting it interfere with the truths he knows about Dalinar, and blocking his ability to see new truth as it is presented. I’m actually surprised that Wit managed to get through to him at all, in this state. I guess there’s something to be said for a captive audience.
(Okay, groan. Yes, I know. I did it on purpose.)
The thing that’s really bugging me is that, in general, I like Kaladin, and I like all he’s set up to become. He’s a natural leader in many ways, and he’s all about protecting those he considers his responsibility. That’s great, and it suits a Windrunner very well. What I dislike is that he thinks he wants to be a team player—but he wants to do it on his own terms. It doesn’t work that way—especially when you aren’t qualified to be the coach.
Moving on… I had to snicker a bit at Wit’s appearance.
Kaladin scrambled up to his feet. Wit sat on a bench by the far wall, outside the cell and under the spheres, tuning some kind of strange instrument on his lap made of taut strings and polished wood. He hadn’t been there a moment ago. Storms… had the bench even been there before?
It’s a good question. Heh.
I love the way Wit goads Kaladin into making suggestions about the story: he plays his harp (or whatever it is—electric guitar?) and waits for Kaladin to tell him what the music provokes in his imagination. Each time Kaladin makes a statement, Wit turns it into a versified chant, expanding on it and explaining the a background for the suggestion, never actually going beyond what Kaladin said. Then he waits until Kaladin moves the story forward again. So in large part, it’s a story about Kaladin, or at least about Kaladin’s frame of mind.
Essentially, it’s a story about a legendary runner named Fleet, who could outrun anything, even the Herald Chanarach. Eventually, with no one left to challenge, he challenged the highstorm itself, running before the storm across the entire continent. It almost caught him in the central mountains, but then he reached the divide and gained ground. Again, it almost caught him in the mountains guarding Shinovar, but he managed to stay ahead of it, if only just. His strength finally failed and he collapsed… but the storm was spent as well, and could not pass the point where he fell.
Even though it was (at least in one sense) his own bad-tempered statement that ended the story there, Kaladin is shocked that Wit agrees with him, that Fleet died. But… the story isn’t over.
“Upon that land of dirt and soil,” Wit shouted, “our hero fell and did not stir! His body spent, his strength undone, Fleet the hero was no more.
“The storm approached and found him there. It stilled and stopped upon its course! The rains they fell, the winds they blew, but forward they could not progress.
“For glory lit, and life alive, for goals unreached and aims to strive. All men must try, the wind did see. It is the test, it is the dream.”
Kaladin stepped slowly up to the bars. Even with eyes open, he could see it. Imagine it.
“So in that land of dirt and soil, our hero stopped the storm itself. And while the rain came down like tears, our Fleet refused to end this race. His body dead, but not his will, within those winds his soul did rise.
“It flew upon the day’s last song, to win the race and claim the dawn. Past the sea and past the waves, our Fleet no longer lost his breath. Forever strong, forever fast, forever free to race the wind.”
Kaladin (and perhaps the reader) is left wondering what it means, because stories have meaning. But when he asks Wit, the answer is merely that since it’s Kaladin’s story, he must decide what it meant.
“The storm caught him,” Kaladin said.
“The storm catches everyone, eventually. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good.” Wit tipped his sword up toward his forehead, as if in respect. “Then you have something to think about.”
He left.
I love that ending. And I should probably have ended with it, but I have to comment. (Hey, it’s my job, right?) It’s an amazing story for a developing Windrunner, one who can indeed race the wind and win (as long as he doesn’t run out of Stormlight). Sadly, Kaladin is too lost in his own personal frustrations to see the connection, and we have no evidence he actually spent any time thinking further about it.
Stormwatch
This chapter takes place on Kaladin’s third day in prison—the first being the day of the duel—so there are now 26 days left in the countdown.
Sprenspotting
Oh, my poor dear Sylphrena. Watching her droop in this chapter is painful, especially now that we know where this attitude of Kaladin’s is leading. *sigh*
There are a couple of other interesting notes, though. One odd tidbit I noticed was that part of Kaladin’s complaint about his cell was the lack of exposure; he missed the wind. The solitude wasn’t an issue, the lack of wind was. Is this significant of his connection to windspren through his honorspren? Or is it just a general lack-of-fresh-air problem?
Another (though it seems “old news” by now, we were pretty enthusiastic when we first saw it) was this one:
She lifted her chin. “I’m no highspren. Laws don’t matter; what’s right matters.”
Highspren have, I believe, been confirmed as the Skybreaker-spren; this highlights a major difference between honorspren & highspren—and therefore, between Windrunners and Skybreakers—and one that we should all be cognizant of, even for ourselves. There is sometimes a distinction between what is legal and what is moral; there is even, sometimes, a case where moral conduct requires opposition to an unjust law. Even more than real life (for most of us), Roshar seems to have plenty of these cases, from Alethkar to Shinovar. Realistic worldbuilding FTW?
It does make me wonder: in the old days, was there frequent conflict between Skybreakers who judged guilt or innocence solely according to law, and Windrunners who judged action according to moral values rather than legal? Where did the other Orders fit along this spectrum, or did they care?
Back to the chapter…
Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?
Well, hello, Hoid. Lightweaving, or just personal insight and clever storytelling?
Also, this little Easter egg regarding other places he’s been and things he’s done:
Wit leaned down to tune his instrument, one leg crossed over the other. He hummed softly to himself and nodded. “Perfect pitch,” Wit said, “makes this all so much easier than it once was….”
I think we can take it as a given that he holds at least 200 Breaths, just in case you were curious. I suppose it’s possible there are other ways he could have acquired perfect pitch, but this is the sort of thing Brandon throws in for the obsessive overly detail-oriented very thorough among us to find and squee over.
Staging Note: the epigraphs of Part Four form a letter which responds to the letter of the TWoK Part Two epigraphs. Feel free to comment on them as we go, particularly if you notice a connection between the epigraph and the chapter content. I, however, will be dealing with them in total as a separate post at the end of Part Four, just before the next set of Interludes. Just so you know.
Heraldic Symbolism
Nalan, Judge, Herald of Justice and patron of the Skybreakers. Because Kaladin deserves to be in prison? Because he doesn’t? Because Syl mentions the highspren? The Joker, wild card, jester, Wit. Because Wit.
Well. That was cheery. Let’s go hit the comment thread, and then come back next week for a much more positive chapter—at long last—as Shallan starts out practicing Scholarship and ends up practicing Lightweaving.
Alice Arneson is a long-time Tor.com commenter and Sanderson beta-reader. Back when she started all this fandom business, though, it was with the Wheel of Time and Leigh Butler’s famous WoT Reread. It’s suitable, then, that she went out as Cadsuane last night to acquire a signed copy of the final release: the Wheel of Time Companion. Yes, of course Cadsuane.
Alice, you wrote: “It’s impossible, now, not to see the beginnings of the broken bond in this argument.” If you are suggesting that the nahel bond can be broken over an elongated period of time, I disagree. Based upon what we saw in Dalinar’s vision, I think the break is instantaneous. I agree that Kaldin’s action (both before and after this scene) took him down a path where he came dangerously close to breaking the bond. Perhaps his attitude weakens the bond (which may explain later that Syl appears to act more childish than usual). As with a ligament, there is a point in time where the bond just snaps. At this point it is broken and (from the text we have seen so far and opinion of the Spren) non repairable. Had Kaladin’s bond with Syl been broken, it would not have been possible for him to say the 3rd Oath later in the book.
Thanks for reading my musings
AndrewHB
aka the musespren
Kaladin does think about the story of Fleet. He mentions it latter on when interacting with Ekhokar in a rather climactic scene.
I believe that Hoid intended the story to impart a life’s message to Kaladin not to be diverted or discouraged by the ‘slings and arrows of outrageous fortune’ , but to pursue and expand his protective mission. I also believe that the Fleet tale is an important hint at Kaladin’s future. It seems clear that Fleet is Kaladin, the Windrunner who is energized by the wind and storm, and the race against the Highstorm is the impossible mission that Kaladin will assume. That mission will cost him his life, but his cause will have prevailed. Kaladin keeps this story in mind and uses it to bolster his resolve to protect Elhokar despite being mortally wounded by his erstwhile friend, Moash. That action saves him, restores his bond with Syl, and allows him to progress to full Knighthood.
The imprisonment and Kaladin’s resulting dour mood leaves Syl dejected, as well. She knew Kaladin’s obsession with vengeance towards Amaram, yet she neglected to warn him about guarding his tongue after achieving a remarkable victory. Of course, her priority was to encourage Kaladin’s need to protect those under his care, and she couldn’t know that Kaladin was going to demand a vengeance duel against Amaram, yet she somehow feels responsible. She may also feel that Kaladin will not accept the responsibility for his rash words in his current mood. All in all, a sad chapter. Yet there is promise due to Hoid’s ministrations which somehow come at important junctures in the lives of our protagonists.
I think the story about Fleet rather fitting as Kaladin will “race” the storm later in the story when he’s fighting Szeth. I know it’s not really looked at as a race against the storm at that point, but I couldn’t help comparing the two.
I honestly think this was my favorite chapter from the book.
So many things to consider, first and most importantly is Hoid telling the story or is Kaladin telling it. Is it like Skarpi says in another book by another author all “just one story” and Hoid can tell pieces of it. Like the Worldship story in book 1, did this actually happen?
Or am I reading more into this than there is, maybe Hoid is just so insightful that he lead Kaladin towards a story that fits his mood and has the right lesson.
And about that, I’m not really sure what the lesson is: it’s the effort that counts and what you accomplish in life because in the end we all die – aka journey before destination. Seems a bit hypocritical coming from the immortal Hoid :)
The next thing that I love is the talk between Kaladin and Syl, and here I’m going to disagree with Alice (and other readers) that Kaladin brought this on himself. Well, technically he did, but Syl was insistent he’d do it, that this time will be different, and it’s really not. Where’s the Honor in how dark-eyes are treated? Why is it fine to fight with weapons against the dishonor of unequal combat but it’s wrong to fight with words by requesting same privileges as a light-eyes against the dishonor of racial profiling? He’s perfectly justified in being mad with her and she’s right feeling ashamed (which is how I interpreted it).
Lastly, right and wrong, like laws, are also subject to interpretation. What Syl considers right, I’m sure Odium will consider wrong, and even more what us as readers from Earth consider right might be even more erroneous to someone from Roshar. Ethics are taught, and even “natural” rights and wrongs (if you believe they exist) will probably change from planet to planet, “nature” to “nature”
I don’t think this is entirely fair. Kaladin’s a guy with a strong spirit and a lot of potential, but the deck of Alethi society is stacked against him. Many of his thoughts about the unfairness and abuse in Alethkar are correct. We should expect a man who has had Kaladin’s experience with lighteyes to come away bitter and determined to change things. He lacks the social graces of someone raised in the upper class and he’s had to fight for everything he’s received in the series to this point.
Yes, his behavior at the duel can be seen as impetuous, but this is where there’s a disconnect between us as readers and Kaladin as a character. If we’d lived Kaladin’s life, we’d probably do the things Kaladin has done, hold the attitudes he holds, and be justified in doing so. Because we want so badly for Kaladin to be better than those who oppress him, he comes in for a lot of criticism when he fails to meet those lofty standards.
It’s not really fair to expect him to be the better man in every circumstance, to take the slights and the prejudices against him without losing his composure. But that’s what Knights Radiant are, they’re the people who do things above and beyond what we expect from normal people.
He’s just not there yet. Kaladin has to go through these growing pains to transition from a normal person to a more virtuous one. That’s why it’s hard for me to fault him too much for this. He’s a very believable person, tasked with doing something almost impossible. The stumbling is part of the journey. We can’t always apply the expectations for the end of the journey to someone who has just taken his first steps.
The Fleet story reads like an origin story for the way the storms work on Roshar. It’s not quite the same, but it has a lot of aspects of a myth attempting to explain natural phenomena.
Quick comment re: Sprenspotting –
Alice, you asked whether there was frequent conflict between the Windrunners and Skybreakers in the old days.
In the epigraph of Chapter 54 we are almost assured that there was:
Pretty straight forward that they didn’t see eye to eye, there (I wonder what constitutes a “great debate” between Knights Radiant)?
I also think it’s noteworthy that Syl makes the distinction between the two orders and/or their spren multiple times in WoR. In Chapter 22, Syl straight up rebukes Kaladin with the: “You’re not a Skybreaker, Kaladin,” when he talks about finding his own justice.
I guess the comparison/contrast of Windrunner/Skybreaker could be seen as one of the themes for Words of Radiance, as we have the contrast of Kaladin (Windrunner) doing what he feels is right, and Szeth (Skybreaker) doing what he believes (whether the reader agrees with it or not) he should according to his word, or the word of the law he follows (even Nalan comments on Szeth’s dedication to it in Chapter 88).
@several – Oh, I find Kaladin a totally believable character. I still get mad at him – and anyone else who does it – for blaming everything on someone else and refusing to acknowledge his own responsibility. We all do it sometimes, and some people do it more than others. Sure, there’s rationale for his attitudes, and the social rules are unfair. That’s pretty much always true. But despite all that: if Kaladin had played by the team plan and kept his mouth shut, or at least waited until the team goal was accomplished to get mouthy, things would have turned out very differently.
NONE of it is Syl’s fault, and blaming her because he got cocky is indefensible. Blame Elhokar for his response. Blame Adolin for leaving the loophole. Blame Dalinar, and Navani, and Shallan, and Renarin, and all of Team Kholin, for not noticing the loophole, or not making sure they knew exactly what was said, or whatever. Blame Sadeas and Ialai for pushing everyone to try to destroy the Kholins. Blame Elit for being a lame loser. Blame Relis for escalating hostilities. Blame Jakamav and Abrobadar for going along with the scheme. Blame Sadeas for taking advantage of the chaos to slip away. They all bear some part of the blame for the way things went down. But along with all that, blame Kaladin for shoving his size 10s into the opportunity they had worked so hard to achieve, without considering anything beyond his own personal chance for vengeance.
@8: Thank you Alice for stating it out loud. Kaladin spends an annoying amount of time, in book, playing at being a victim and blaming the entire world for his own false-comings.
This chapter is just another example of why Kaladin isn’t my favorite character, even though he ought to be. I love the fact that he’s a healer, I love that he’s a spearman when swordsmen are more valued, I love that he’s a dark eyes in a world run by bright eyes, and I love what he did with his bridge crew. He’s just so damned mopey and self-pitying, even when it seems like he’s past that, and I just can’t love him.
I do love Wit, though. And yes, Alice, I assumed his perfect pitch was thanks to Breaths. After all, we’ve seen at least one character from Nalthis in this book elsewhere (Vasher, of course, as Zahel, not to mention Nightblood at the end…)