[insert witty title here]

“I’m sorry, Kal,” Moash said, stepping forward. “I should have made it quick at the start.”

The Words, Kaladin. That was Syl’s voice. You have to speak the Words!

I FORBID THIS.

YOUR WILL MATTERS NOT! Syl shouted. YOU CANNOT HOLD ME BACK IF HE SPEAKS THE WORDS! THE WORDS, KALADIN! SAY THEM!

“I will protect even those I hate,” Kaladin whispered through bloody lips. “So long as it is right.”

A Shardblade appeared in Moash’s hands.

A distant rumbling. Thunder.

THE WORDS ARE ACCEPTED, the Stormfather said reluctantly.

Brandon Sanderson, Words of Radiance

Prints are here! =) https://www.etsy.com/de-en/shop/JennyDolfenArt

It's alright Dalinar, babe, he got this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- image description: A loosely scribbled and coloured comic page with several panels in four rows of the scene in Words of Radiance in which Kaladin joins the duel in the arena. The background in the panels is painetd very patchily implying the seats of the arena with half roofs offering shadow from the sun above. The first row has two panels, on the left we see an agitaed Dalinar, in his blue uniform with gold and white trimmings, as he leans forward, hands on the wall of the dueling pit in front of him, calling out "What happened to us?", "Where is our honor?". A smaller speechbubble to the side contains the words "Honor is dead". The panel to the right depicts Dalinar looking to the side to see who gave that cynical commentary. Kaladin stands there not far behind him, also in captain's uniform holding his spear and looking very grim. The next row has two smaller and on medium sized panel, they all show Kaladin from the side in profile – as Dalinar would see him. He inhales like he is fortifying himself for what comes next. On the exhale he looks down into the arena with mix of resignation and determination and utters the words "But I'll see what I can do." The speechbubble for it is already in the next panel, in which Kaladin is gazing towards us with a mournful expression as he says "If this goes poorly, take care of my men."

The echo of those same dappled shadows that we paint in our art is genetically coded into a baby’s fur in order to keep her safe. A beautiful thing.

𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑑