A younger woman met the limping men. A Radiant? She had the look about her, though she wasn’t armored. It was more her air of confidence, the way she settled them down and took something glowing from the pouch at her belt.
“I remember this,” Dalinar said. “It’s one of those devices I mentioned from another vision. The ones that provide Regrowth, as they call it. Healing.”
Navani’s eyes widened, and she beamed like a child who had been given a plate full of sweets for Middlefest. She gave Dalinar a quick hug, then hurried over to watch. She stepped right up to the side of the group, then waved impatiently for the Radiant to continue.
Jasnah turned to look around the canyon. “I know of no place in our time of this description, Uncle. This seems like the stormlands, from those formations.”
“Maybe it’s lost somewhere in the Unclaimed Hills?”
“That, or it’s been so long the rock formations have weathered away completely.” She narrowed her eyes at a group of people who came through the canyon, carrying water to the soldiers. Last time, Dalinar had stumbled down into the canyon just in time to meet them and get a drink.
You’re needed above, one had told him, pointing up the shallow slope along the side of the canyon opposite where he had been fighting.
“That clothing,” Jasnah said softly. “Those weapons…”
“We’ve gone back to ancient times.”
“Yes, Uncle,” Jasnah said. “But didn’t you tell me this vision comes at the end of the Desolations?”
“From what I remember of it, yes.”
“So the vision with the Midnight Essence happened before this, chronologically. Yet you saw steel, or at least iron, in that one. Remember the poker?”
“I’m not likely to forget.” He rubbed his chin. “Iron and steel then, but men wielding crude weapons here, of copper and bronze. As if they didn’t know how to Soulcast iron, or at least not how to forge it properly, despite it being a later date. Huh. That is odd.”
“This is confirmation of what we’ve been told, but which I could never quite believe. The Desolations were so terrible they destroyed learning and progress and left behind a broken people.”
“The orders of Radiants were supposed to stop that,” Dalinar said. “I learned it in another vision.”
“Yes, I read that one. All of them, actually.” She looked to him then, and smiled.
People were always surprised to see emotion from Jasnah, but Dalinar considered that unfair. She did smile—she merely reserved the expression for when it was most genuine.
“Thank you, Uncle,” she said. “You have given the world a grand gift. A man can be brave in facing down a hundred enemies, but coming into these—and recording them rather than hiding them—was bravery on an entirely different level.”
“It was mere stubbornness. I refused to believe I was mad.”
“Then I bless your stubbornness, Uncle.” Jasnah pursed her lips in thought, then continued more softly. “I’m worried about you, Uncle. What people are saying.”
“You mean my heresy?” Dalinar said.
“I’m less worried about the heresy itself, and more how you’re dealing with the backlash.”
Ahead of them, Navani had somehow bullied the Radiant into letting her look at the fabrial. The day was stretching toward late afternoon, the canyon falling into shadow. But this vision was a long one, and he was content to wait upon Navani. He settled down on a rock.
“I don’t deny God, Jasnah,” he said. “I simply believe that the being we call the Almighty was never actually God.”
“Which is the wise decision to make, considering the accounts of your visions.” Jasnah settled down beside him.
“You must be happy to hear me say that,” he said.
“I’m happy to have someone to talk to, and I’m certainly happy to see you on a journey of discovery. But am I happy to see you in pain? Am I happy to see you forced to abandon something you held dear?” She shook her head. “I don’t mind people believing what works for them, Uncle. That’s something nobody ever seems to understand—I have no stake in their beliefs. I don’t need company to be confident.”
“How do you suffer it, Jasnah?” Dalinar said. “The things people say about you? I see the lies in their eyes before they speak. Or they will tell me, with utter sincerity, things I have reportedly said—even though I deny them. They refuse my own word against the rumors about me!”
Jasnah stared out across the canyon. More men were gathering at the other end, a weak, beleaguered group who were only now discovering they were the victors in this contest. A large column of smoke rose in the distance, though he couldn’t see the source.
“I wish I had answers, Uncle,” Jasnah said softly. “Fighting makes you strong, but also callous. I worry I have learned too much of the latter and not enough of the former. But I can give you a warning.”
He looked toward her, raising his eyebrows.
“They will try,” Jasnah said, “to define you by something you are not. Don’t let them. I can be a scholar, a woman, a historian, a Radiant. People will still try to classify me by the thing that makes me an outsider. They want, ironically, the thing I don’t do or believe to be the prime marker of my identity. I have always rejected that, and will continue to do so.”
She reached over and put her freehand on his arm. “You are not a heretic, Dalinar Kholin. You are a king, a Radiant, and a father. You are a man with complicated beliefs, who does not accept everything you are told. You decide how you are defined. Don’t surrender that to them. They will gleefully take the chance to define you, if you allow it.”
Dalinar nodded slowly.
“Regardless,” Jasnah said, standing. “This is probably not the best occasion for such a conversation. I realize we can replay this vision at will, but the number of storms in which we can do it will be limited. I should be exploring.”
“Last time, I went that way,” Dalinar said, pointing up the slope. “I’d like to see what I saw again.”
“Excellent. We’d best split to cover more ground. I will go in the other direction, then we can meet afterward and compare notes.” She took off down the slope toward the largest gathering of men.
Dalinar stood up and stretched, his earlier exertion still weighing on him. A short time later Navani returned, mumbling explanations of what she’d seen under her breath. Teshav sat with her in the waking world, and Kalami with Jasnah, recording what they said—the only way to take notes in one of these visions.
Navani took his arm in hers and looked after Jasnah, a fond smile on her lips. No, none would think Jasnah emotionless if they’d witnessed that tearful reunion between mother and daughter.
“How did you ever mother that one?” Dalinar asked.
“Mostly without letting her realize she was being mothered,” Navani said. She pulled him close. “That fabrial is wonderful, Dalinar. It’s like a Soulcaster.”
“In what way?”
“In that I have no idea how it works! I think … I think something is wrong with the way we’ve been viewing the ancient fabrials.” He looked to her, and she shook her head. “I can’t explain yet.”