had consumed clothing and most of the flesh, leaving bits of stone-grey bone.
They think that’s me, Taravangian thought, reading the possible futures. Szeth didn’t see what happened to me spiritually. He doesn’t know Odium was here.
Almost all possible futures agreed. Szeth would confess that he’d gone to kill Taravangian, but somehow Taravangian had drawn Nightblood—and the weapon had consumed him.
They thought him dead. He was free.…
Free to destroy! To burn! To wreak havoc and terror upon those who had doubted him!
No. No, free to plan. To devise a way to save the world from itself. He could see so far! See so much! He needed to think.
To burn!
No, to plot!
To … To …
Taravangian was startled as he became aware of something else. A growing power nearby, visible only to one such as him. A godly power, infinite and verdant.
He was not alone.
* * *
They gave Teft a king’s funeral, Soulcasting him to stone. A sculptor would be commissioned to create a depiction of Phendorana to erect next to him. The Sibling said there was a room, locked away, where the ancient Radiants stood forever as stone sentries. It would feel good to see Teft among them, in uniform and looking at them all with a scowl, despite the embalmer’s best efforts.
It felt right.
All of Bridge Four came, except for Rock. Skar and Drehy had relayed the news after returning to the Shattered Plains—it seemed Kaladin wouldn’t be seeing Rock again.
Together, the men and women of Bridge Four praised Teft, drank to him, and burned prayers for him in turn. Afterward, they sought a tavern to continue celebrating in a way Teft would have loved, even if he wouldn’t have let himself participate.
Kaladin waited as they drifted away. They kept checking on him, of course, worried for his health. Worried about the darkness. He appreciated each and every one of them for it, but he didn’t need that type of help today.
He was kind of all right. A good night’s sleep, and finding peace restored to the tower, had helped. So he sat there, looking at the statue created from Teft’s body. The others finally seemed to sense he needed to be alone. So they left him.
Syl landed beside him fully sized, in a Bridge Four uniform. He could faintly feel her when she rested her head on his shoulder.
“We won’t stop missing him, will we?” she asked softly.
“No. But that’s all right. So long as we cling to the moments we had.”
“I can’t believe you’re taking this better than I am.”
“I thought you said you were recovering.”
“I am,” she said. “This still hurts though.” Once the tower had been restored, she’d mostly returned to herself. Some of what she’d felt had been gloom from what Raboniel had done.
Some of it wasn’t.
“We could ask Dalinar,” Kaladin said. “If maybe there’s something wrong with you. A bond or something unnatural.”
“He won’t find one. I’m merely … alive. And this is part of being alive. So I’m grateful, even if part of it stinks.”
He nodded.
“Really stinks,” she added. Then for good measure, “Stinks like a human after … how long has it been since you had a bath?”
He smiled, and the two of them remained there, looking up at Teft. Kaladin didn’t know if he believed in the Almighty, or in the Tranquiline Halls, or whether people lived after they died. Yes, he’d seen something in a vision. But Dalinar had seen many dead people in his visions, and that didn’t mean they still lived somewhere. He didn’t know why Tien had given the wooden horse to him, as if to prove the vision was real, only for it to immediately vanish.
That seemed to indicate Kaladin’s mind had fabricated the meeting. He didn’t let it prevent him from feeling that he’d accomplished something important. He’d laid down a heavy burden. The pain didn’t go away, but most of the shame … that he let fall behind him.
Eventually, he stood up and embraced Teft’s statue. Then he wiped his eyes and nodded to Syl.
They needed to keep moving forward. And that involved deciding what he was going to do with himself, now that the crisis had ended.
* * *
Taravangian grew more capable by the moment.
The power molded him as he bridled it. He stepped to the edge of infinity, studying endless possibilities as if they were a million rising suns and he were standing on the bank of an eternal ocean. It was beautiful.
A woman stepped up beside him. He recognized her full hair,