#geared up for wat by cleaning up a bunch of old drafts than paused my queue while reading

[nevertheless-moving]

Stormlight Archive AU 17B: AU where Kaladin's first meeting with Szeth lasts a little longer, and everything spirals out of control from there.

"Are they back? Are they all back?" "Yes," Kaladin said. It seemed like the right answer. The answer that would keep him alive, at least. The assassin stared at him for a moment longer, then turned and fled.

"Wait!" Kaladin shouted. The assassin incredibly, horribly stopped.

Idiot, he thought, mouth dry. What are you doing.

The Shin man turned slowly to face him.

"You shouldn’t have the powers you do," Kaladin said, squaring his shoulders, trying to sound imposing. The last of his stormlight puffed away carelessly, and his vision swam with its passing. He steeled himself. "You have no spren, no honor."

"No." The assassin clasped both hands to his head, expression twisting. "No! I have honor. I obey my master."

His Master? Kaladin’s gut twisted, other questions flitting away as quickly as they had seized him. Was he a slave? But how? How do you control a man with so much power?

"Why do you obey?” Kaladin barked, stepping forward, heart pounding. “You apologized earlier, are you… being coerced somehow?” The thought was absurd.

“I must obey. I am truthless.”

“Why? What does that mean? How does your master control you?" 

The man stared in Kaladin’s direction, eyes large and vacant. “The Oathstone." 

"Oathstone? You mean a literal stone? It, what, it controls you? It forces you to do whatever your master says?" He couldn’t keep the horror from his voice. Some sort of curse from the nightwatcher?

The assassin shook his head, fingernails digging in visibly to his shaved skull. "Why do you torment me?" he whispered, barely audible above the howling winds. "Is your presence not enough?"

Kaladin tightened his grip on the rain slicked dagger hilt. He’s unwell in the mind. Stormfather, what had been done to him? What had turned him into the killer of kings and emperors?

"Is there a way to free you from the stone?" Kaladin asked urgently. "I’m — I’m a radiant. I’ve sworn to protect those who can not protect themselves."

He felt other words churning uneasily beneath his breast, looking at the man who had caused the war that had ruined so many lives. But pity swelled above anger or hatred as the assassin moaned, falling to his knees.

"You know the oaths. You know of spren. The orders are returned — it can not be. They called me a liar. They named me truthless. It cannot be. I must be truthless."

"What does truthless mean?" Kaladin inched toward him cautiously. Perhaps...

"It means — it means —" The assassin fell forward, his pale fingers scrambling at the ground, as if trying to dig through rock. "It means I am cursed to walk this land of wretched stone. That I must do all that the one who holds my oathstone commands."

Kaladin staggered closer, exhaustion making him clumsy.

Oathstone. What’s an Oathstone? Kaladin forced himself to think. If he was telling the truth, then that would mean that the turmoil… the assassinations across Roshar… someone was behind them.

"The Parshendi? Are they your masters?"

"Truthless... I… I am Szeth-son-son-Vallano, truthless of shinovar..."

Kaladin dared to step forward again, masking the movement with fake bravado.

“Kaladin what are you doing?” Syl whispered. She rarely spoke during fights, not when it could distract him. She was terrified of this man. “Kaladin, I told you, there’s something not right about him! Get away!” He must have more, Kaladin thought. If he was planning on escaping after killing Dalinar… the assassin in white always escaped.

"How did you become truthless? Tell me!"

"I said...I told them.."

Kaladin took one last step, then inhaled sharply and — yes, almighty be praised, he was close enough. Stormlight streamed from the inside of Szeth’s robes, racing his direction in wisps and streams. He straightened, exhaustion fleeing before the renewed storm. He readjusted his grip on the knife, but hesitated to make any other moves.

The assassin, Szeth son something, looked up with wild eyes, and screamed at the sight of Kaladin glowing in the rain.

Szeth took on his own radiance again, sliding abruptly backwards, as if down a sharp incline, despite moving across level stone.

Then he rose in the air, hovering. "I — I WAS RIGHT! I TOLD THEM! I TOLD THEM!"

His voice broke on the scream, and his head jerked down to face Kaladin, eyes blazing sapphire and wild. “You.” He grinned, teeth clenched in a rictus grin. “You. Yes. You, you will kill me, Radiant. This is right.” Szeth shot forward, feet aimed for his chest. Kaladin barely dodged in time, slicing quickly at the assassin's leg as it passed. An artery, he knew he caught an artery. Blood shone for a moment, nearly black in the low light. Then it healed, of course it healed, and the assassin didn’t bother waiting for his feet to touch the ground to turn around, launching himself at Kaladin again with asnarling.

Kaladin ducked a shardblade swipe. Storms he had already summoned it? Rain fell around them and the wind bit at exposed skin as the assassin lunged again and again, swinging wildly with the blade, his movements less measured than earlier, but fast. Impossibly fast.

Still. This was a dance Kaladin knew.

He inhaled as the assassin’s sword passed a hairsbreath from his shoulder. Light raced toward him again, and the tempest inside grew to almost painful intensity as he tried to steal every last gleam from the assassin’s pockets He gasped again, dodging another swing, pulling like he never had, until he thought his skin would catch fire. In a few moments the flow slowed to a trickle, then stopped. The assassin grinned, pulling back, face almost painful to gaze upon. He had drawn in the rest, faster than Kaladin it seemed like. His whole form blazed white in the dark air, and mist curled off him as the rain hit. “Kill me radiant!” he screamed, glittering clouds escaping with each word. “Kill me as you should have done long ago!” Can I outlast him? He stopped breathing, focusing instead on keeping what he taken. Stormlight raged against his ribcage, more than he had ever tried to hold. His chest burned, lightning crackling in his lungs. He didn’t dare glance at his hands but he was certain the light pouring off him was as blinding as his opponent.

The assassin had to run out eventually. 

Kaladin dodged another swipe, storms he didn’t want to test what would happen if he took a blade to the neck. 

“You should be better,” the Szeth hissed, Stormlight spilling out his his mouth in uneven bursts. “You, of all beings, should be able to end my suffering.” Several more lunges at Kaladin; he didn’t bother trying to retaliate with his knife. It wasn’t worth it, not yet.

But he didn’t need to attack, fast as he was moving. The wind with him, he could dodge forever. Raindrops slowed in the air, crackling and hissing into steam where it touched skin, as the shard blade flashed again and again. The assassin moved in strange ways, whole body lurching sideways and forward, but his hands swiped with less and less control the longer they fought.

Szeth howled with frustration. “Kill me! Kill me or Die!” he screamed, Stormlight streaming out with each furious breaths. 

He stopped, hacking wildly at the ground as Kaladin fought the urge to catch his breath. He’s dimmer than before, isn’t he? He has to be, right?

The assassin threw himself down, and light passed from his body into the shard broken rocks at his feet. In a blink, assassin and stones alike were in the air, above Kaladin's head, out of sight.

That's not good.

Kaladin dove to the side without thinking, a projectile slamming into rock where his feet had been a moment ago. He jerked backwards as light and sound erupted around him. It was the highstorm come again.

Except personally aimed at killing him, specifically.

He threw himself forward, catching the ground with one hand then using the momentum to spring to the side, upright again. Moving, moving, everything was slower than Kaladin right now, the rain was slower, but still there was too much, from too many sides.

Pain sliced through his left, a knife edge of rock. Another piece came from behind, punching through his knee in a flash of agony that sent him sprawling. Light escaped his lips as he let out a gasp, but he clenched his jaw shut, biting his cheek to hold the rest in. The tempest inside him eased as it raced to sooth his wounds. The assassin must be almost out, he thought desperately, even as he rolled. He’s been shouting, flying, lashing rocks. He has to be nearly finished.

Still more blazes of rock and light came, as he got one hand on the ground and threw himself to his feet. 

“Just a little longer,” Syl said as he stumbled, something in his arm snapping with the impact of another rock. “He’s almost out of Stormlight, Kaladin, you can do it, he’s nearly done! Now!”

A large shape came at him fast, barely visible in the rain. A man, glowing faintly, heading his direction. Falling his direction. Kaladin’s heart leapt as he dove to the side. There was the distinct sound of bone breaking against stone, and a pained grunt. Szeth’s gauzy white silhouette faded to a dun whimper.

Kaladin approached cautiously, passing the knife back to his good hand, which ached, but felt nearly normal again. Szeth was still. Kaladin took another step. Szeth lunged, sword sweeping for Kaladin’s feet. He leapt over the blow, higher than any normal man could manage, but no, they could both do the impossible. Szeth had risen off the ground too.

Agony flashed through Kaladin’s lower legs, followed quickly by emptiness, and he swallowed a scream as he crumpled to the ground. The next swipe came for his chest but even through the fading flash of pain he could see it was slower, almost laughably so. 

Kaladin rolled to the side, getting his knees under him while the assassin's arm was still falling down. He tracked the swing, and as it reached the lowest point he snapped forward, jamming his knife into the pale flesh of his opponent's wrist. 

The blade dropped to the ground with a clatter, not turning to mist for some reason. Kaladin didn’t give him the chance to seize it again, grabbing the hilt with his off hand and throwing it into the darkness to his side.

Ten heartbeats, he thought. Ten heartbeats.

He pulled the knife free, blood pulsing out in its wake. Not an artery, but enough veins.

Nine heartbeats? Eight?

A faint wisp of light sparked at the wound, but it didn’t close.

Six?

Kaladin dropped a knee on the injured arm, then plunged the dagger into the center of Szeth’s chest, not wasting time to aim. The shock would make it harder for him to summon his blade. The assassin’s other hand came up, but it was moving slowly, as if through water. Kaladin caught it with ease.

Four? He grimaced. Two sets of training, two men Kaladin was and had been, warred in the crystalized moment. Soldier and Surgeon.

Three?

The soldier won.

He pulled the blade out, meeting the man’s eyes. There were tears. Storms, he was smiling, not the horrific bloodthirsty thing of earlier, but something fragile and soft. Hope?

How many heartbeats?

“Thank you,” the assassin in white rasped. No wisps of light accompanied the words. 

Kaladin pressed his lips together, hesitating, even as the soldier's voice screamed to finish the enemy. He pressed the dagger to Szeth's throat. The storm was quieter inside him now, but still present. Comforting. His own hand glittered inhumanly, frosted over and steaming at his enemy’s throat.

A slave’s throat, somehow. He said he didn’t want to do this, at the start of the fight.

“Can I free you?” Kaladin whispered, light spilling out to softly illuminate the space between them. “You could still live, if —”

The man’s expression grew animalistic and he growled, starting to struggle anew. Kaladin was stronger by far, stormlight still burning, the assassin gone dun. Kaladin twisted, planting a knee in the center of his chest and bearing down. 

“I will never stop,” Szeth snarled. “I hate more than any man has ever hated. Let me live and I will kill you, radiant. All I know is to kill. The killing will not stop until I am dead.” His hands convulsed in Kaladin’s grip. 

Ten heartbeats.

Kaladin swallowed, then struck before the man could have time to watch it coming.

Szeth’s eyes widened as a dagger sunk into his throat.

“Be free,” Kaladin Stormblessed whispered, pulling the blade out.

Tears filled the Szeth-son-son-Vallano's eyes and his lips formed words again.

“Thank you,” he said soundlessly. 

“I’m sorry,” Kaladin said.

Kaladin watched as the last light drained from Szeth’s eyes. He spasmed beneath Kaladin's hands. His eyes were dark green now. Empty. Kaladin shuffled off him, falling to the rock, everything below mid calf numb. 

“I’m sorry,” Kaladin said again, then breathed out the last of his light and collapsed in a heap.