“It will,” Wit said, “but then it will get better. Then it will get worse again. Then better. This is life, and I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say. That is truth. I promise you, Kaladin: You will be warm again.”

Kaladin nodded in thanks, then turned to the hateful winds. He felt a push against his back as Wit sent him forward—then the light vanished, along with all it contained.

SEVEN YEARS AGO

Eshonai tipped her head back, feeling water stream off her carapace skullplate. Returning to warform after so long in workform felt like revisiting a familiar clearing hidden in the trees, rarely encountered but always waiting for her. She did like this form. She would not see it as a prison.

She met Thude and Rlain as they emerged from hollows in the stone where they too had returned to this form. Many of her friends had never left it. Warform was convenient for many reasons, though Eshonai didn’t like it quite as well as workform. There was something about the aggression this form provoked in her. She worried she would seek excuses to fight.

Thude stretched, humming to Joy. “Feels good,” he said. “I feel alive in this form.”

“Too alive,” Rlain said. “Do the rhythms sound louder to you?”

“Not to me,” Thude said.

Eshonai shook her head. She didn’t hear the rhythms any differently. Indeed, she’d been wondering if—upon adopting this form again—she’d hear the pure tone of Roshar as she did the first time. She hadn’t.

“Shall we?” she asked, gesturing toward the spreading plateaus. Rlain started toward one of the bridges, but Thude sang loudly to Amusement and charged the nearby chasm, leaping and soaring over it with an incredible bound.

Eshonai dashed after him to do the same. Each form brought with it a certain level of instinctual understanding. When she reached the edge, her body knew what to do. She sprang in a powerful leap, the air whistling through the grooves in her carapace and flapping the loose robe she’d worn into the storm.

She landed with a solid crunch, her feet grinding stone as she slid to a stop. The Rhythm of Confidence thrummed in her ears, and she found herself grinning. She had missed that. Rlain landed next to her, a hulking figure with black and red skin patterns forming an intricate marbling. He hummed to Confidence as well.

“Come on!” Thude shouted from nearby. He leaped another chasm.

Attuning Joy, Eshonai ran after him. Together the three of them chased and dashed, climbed and soared—spanning chasms, climbing up and over rock formations, sprinting across plateaus. The Shattered Plains felt like a playground.

This must be what islands and oceans are like, she thought as she surveyed the Plains from up high. She’d heard about them in songs, and she’d always imagined an ocean as a huge network of streams moving between sections of land.

But no, she’d seen Gavilar’s map. In that painting, the bodies of water had seemed as wide as countries. Water … with nothing to see but more water. She attuned Anxiety. And Awe. Complementary emotions, in her experience.

She dropped from the rock formation and landed on the plateau, then bounded after Thude. How far would she have to travel to find those oceans? Judging by the map, only a few weeks to the east. Once such a distance would have been daunting, but now she’d made the trek all the way to Kholinar and back. The trip to the Alethi capital had been one of the sweetest and most exhilarating experiences of her life. So many new places. So many wonderful people. So many strange plants, strange sights, strange foods to taste.

When they’d fled, the same wonders had become threats overnight. The entire trip home had been a blur of marching, sleeping, and foraging in human fields.

Eshonai reached another chasm and leaped, trying to recapture her excitement. She increased her pace, coming up even with Thude and eventually passing him—before the two of them pulled to a halt to wait for Rlain, who had slowed a few plateaus back. He had always been a careful one, and he seemed better able to control the inclinations of the new form.

Her heart racing, Eshonai reached out of habit to wipe her brow—but this form didn’t have sweat on her forehead to drip into her eyes. Instead, the carapace armor trapped air from her forward motion, then pushed it up underneath to cool her skin.

The awesome energy of the form meant she could probably have kept running for hours before feeling any real strain. Perhaps longer. Indeed, the warforms during their flight from Alethkar had carried food for the others and still moved faster than the workforms.

At the same time, Eshonai was getting hungry. She remembered well how much food this form required at each meal.

Thude leaned against a high rock formation as they waited, watching some windspren play in the air. Eshonai wished she’d brought her book for drawing maps of the Plains. She’d found it in the human market of Kholinar—such a small, simple thing. It had been expensive by Alethi standards, but oh so cheap by her standards. An entire book of papers? All for a few little bits of emerald?

She’d seen steel weapons there too. Sitting in the market. For sale. The listeners protected, polished, and revered each weapon they’d found on the Plains—keeping them for generations, passed down from parent to child. The humans had entire stalls of them.

“This is going to go poorly for us, isn’t it?” Thude asked.

Eshonai realized she’d been humming to the Lost. She stopped, but met his eyes and knew that he knew. Together they walked around the stone formation and looked westward, toward the cities that had for centuries been listener homes. Dark smoke filled the air—the Alethi burning wood as they set up enormous cookfires and settled into their camps.

They’d arrived in force. Tens of thousands of them. Swarms of soldiers, with dozens of Shardbearers. Come to exterminate her people.

“Maybe not,” Eshonai said. “In warform, we’re stronger than they are. They have equipment and skill, but we have strength and endurance. If we have to fight them, this terrain will heavily favor us.”

“Did you really have to do it though?” Thude asked to Pleading. “Did you need to have him killed?”

She’d answered this before, but she didn’t avoid the responsibility. She had voted for Gavilar to die. And she’d been the reason for the vote in the first place.

“He was going to bring them back, Thude,” Eshonai said to Reprimand. “Our ancient gods. I heard him say it. He thought I’d be happy to hear of it.”

“So you killed him?” Thude asked, to Agony. “Now they’ll kill us, Eshonai. How is this any better?”

She attuned Tension. Thude, in turn, attuned Reconciliation. He seemed to recognize that bringing this up again and again was accomplishing nothing.

“It is done,” Eshonai said. “So now, we need to hold out. We might not even have to fight them. We can harvest gemstones from the greatshells and speed crop growth. The humans can’t leap these chasms, and so they’ll have trouble ever getting to us. We’ll be safe.”

“We’ll be trapped,” Thude said. “In the center of these Plains. For months, perhaps years. You’re fine with that, Eshonai?”

Rlain finally caught up to them, jogging over and humming to Amusement—perhaps he thought the two of them silly for speeding ahead.