I do not own the Stormlight Archives
Kaladin looked down at the dead shardbearer.
That fact reverberated in his mind a bit. A dead shardbearer. The idea of such a thing was ludicrous. Yet here it was, Kaladin's spearhead jammed through the helmet slot. Kaladin stepped up to the man, carefully extracting the weapon, jiggling it back and forth a bit, before it finally gave with a squelch, like pulling a boot from the mud.
Kaladin looked at the man. The armor was... storms, the only word to possibly describe it was glorious, even with flecks of blood staining it. This set of shards was painted gold, like many of the light eyes he heard of in stories who painted theirs elaborate blues, reds, and oranges. Kaladin found the natural grey look to suit his tastes more than a decorative one. After all, it was a tool of war, not some thing to flaunt and brandish like a nobleman's fine garments.
The shardblade next to it was a simple design compared to some renditions he'd seen in paintings and depictions. It was long, curved, a dangerous and gleaming edge on one side with jagged waving lines on it's inner side. It shone like white silver, mist swirling off it like hot water in the cold. Resting at it's bottom, where the pommel should be, was a gemstone. It's hilt was full metal, a simple cross guard on it with no leather or cloth handle, but instead fully forged. Storms, where these things forged at all and not some gift from the Stormfather himself?
Kaladin picked up the blade like a boy holding a spear for the first time. He was nervous, timid, as though he might accidentally cut his arm off with it on accident. It was heavier than he expected. He'd been told they were weightless, but that appeared to not be true. They were, however, ludicrously light for their size. And the size! It was almost comical! The blade was a good five or six feet long, more comparable to a spear than an actual sword.
He glanced over to the corpse. Across the back of his foe was the sheath, having materialized with the sword after it's owner's death. It was of grey metal, like the blade, with swirling and ornate designs rolling along it's surface like waves. Kaladin gingerly pulled the man's shoulder back, heaving as he did so considering the weight of the armor, and slid the sheath out. He was careful doing it, having a senseless fear that the machine of a man beneath him would somehow come back alive and crush his throat under his gauntleted hand. He pulled the sheath free, letting down the blade against the grass, and sheathed it, looking at it in his hands.
"Rainmaker"
Kaladin turned to see High Lord Amaram standing, looking at Kaladin with wide eyes. A crowd was forming around them now, dark eyes, and a few light eyed officers intermingled, looking at Kaladin in shock.
"Bright Lord?"
"The blade" He said, somewhat mystified. "Many of us memorize which blades are which. The one you hold is Rainmaker, held by Jah Keved for centuries. What in the world is it doing here?" He pondered. Kaladin looked down to the dead man, pulling off his helmet to reveal a Veden man. Though the hole in his face obscured many of his features, the pale skin and red hair were there. Had he been hired as a mercenary? On such a simple border dispute? No, that didn't add up.
"I killed this man" Kaladin said, suddenly. He held up the spearhead, showing the wound. "I fell him. A shardbearer. My squad, I request that it go to the shattered plains, to join in the oath pack against the Parshendi" He said. Amaram opened his mouth, paused, briefly glanced about at the crowd, and then looked to Kaladin.
"Squad?" He said, befuddled, "You...you just killed a shardbearer. Your light eyes now! Storms, your a shardbearer now" He said this with a glance towards the shards on the ground "You'll be leading charges of armies, not leading a squad!" Kaladin looked at him. What were those shifting eyes just a moment ago? He shook his head of those thoughts. They didn't matter. What did matter was that he had this problem to deal with now.
He knew that this made him a light eyes, and he hated that fact. Light eyes caused the death of his squad, save a few scarce men. Light eyes caused his father to be made a pariah. Light eyes ensured that he wouldn't be shipped to the shattered plains, where real men with real honor led squads into battle. Light eyes killed his brother. Indeed, most light eyes were cruel, tyrannical, unfit for the position they had. He would not join them.
"Your name, son?" Amaram asked again. Kaladin blinked. At the very least, Amaram was a good man, what a light eyes should be.
"Sorry, sir. I am Kaladin. Second nahn" He said
"Well..." He said, almost hesitantly "Not anymore, it seems. You're fourth dahn now, with those shards in your possession" Kaladin took a deep breath, rehearsing what he was about to do, asking himself if he really meant to do it. He steeled himself, and then threw the sheathed blade over his shoulder at the corpse. Many in the crowd gasped, as though he'd just spat on the king's cheek.
"I'm sorry sir" He said, hesitant "But I refuse them."
"You... refuse them?" The man looked even more bewildered than before. It was not every day a dark eyes slew a mounted light eyes. It was not every day that he then went on to kill a shardbearer, on a minor border dispute no less. And it was certainly not every day that said man chucked the blade behind him and then refused the shards.
"Yes sir" Kaladin said, a bit more sure this time. "I do not claim them".
"...Why?"
"These light eyes..." he said, taking a breath and trying to calm his hostility in his voice at the phrase, considering the man in front of him "many have ruined my life... killed my brother... I know not all are like that, you sir are a shining example, but..." Kaladin trailed off. This drew a great number of murmurs from the crowd, people talking left and right. One of them shouted "I'll take them" And another shouted the same. Soon, those murmurs turned to shouts laced with a bit of hostility.
"Quiet!" Amaram said, voice booming. The crowd obeyed. Kaladin was grateful. A little more of that, and many of the men would have started darting for the plate and blade, possibly even start fighting. He took a moment to scold himself for forgetting how valuable these were. Nations warred over the things, after all.
"I'm not familiar" Amaram said "with customs on the law for... giving up shards after... killing a shardbearer, but if I am correct, then the shards go to the slayer's choice, and if he does not choose, they go to... the highest commander on the battlefield". Amaram looked away at this. Kaladin didn't blame him. Having to say that you were the rightful bearer of shards after having calmed men who all claimed to be rightful bearers of shards would make Kaladin feel hypocritical, even if the law said such things.
"I'm afraid" A man said, "It will do little good to give up the shards, young man" Kaladin looked over at a graying Ardent, the crowd parting around him. There were usually one or two, sometimes three, at any battle. They usually oversaw them and recorded while they burned prayers, requesting safe passage for those who died. It was a Vorin thing, one Kaladin had never really looked into.
"What do you mean?" Kaladin asked.
"The shards elevate you to fourth dahn, yes, but killing an enemy shardbearer is considered an honor of battle. In the older laws, shards always went to the highest commander of the battle, but some gift needed to be given to ones who slew the shardbearers, even in the rare cases that it happened. It wasn't until two hundred years ago when the convention of Alethi high lords at Kholinar decided that shards were given by right of combat, as detailed in section fifteen of-"
"Get to the point, Dali" Amaram said, a bit more sharply then Kaladin thought necessary.
"Yes, well" Dali said "Honors of battle automatically raise one's social status by a single rank, up to third dahn at most. If you are dark eyes, any honor of battle will automatically raise you to light eyes status. This includes killing an enemy lord or king, committing acts of heroism approved by the current high king, or...
"Killing a shardbearer" Kaladin said, a bit numb.
"Indeed. You can refuse the shards, but you will still be elevated to tenth dahn, with eligibility to further promotions. In this case, it would do you no good to not take them, and proceed to fourth dahn.
"I refuse the promotion" Kaladin said, panic swelling in him. The Ardent only shook his head.
"You cannot. It is law, created by the Sunmaker himself when he united Alethkar. I'm sorry young man, but your position is sealed"
Kaladin looked down at the fire reflecting against his armor while the servants fastened his shoulder pieces to his chest plate. The armor was heavy, far too heavy to put on conventionally, like regular mail or plate. As such, it needed to be assembled from the bottom up, so that the strength-giving properties of the plate would enable the wearer to withstand the weight as the armor was piled on.
Kaladin looked at himself in the mirror. The armor added a good hand-span to his height, and Kaladin was already tall, a little over six feet. He was almost reaching seven feet in the armor, and with the majestic plate on, he found himself trying to battle the fact that he looked like a storming divine-sent herald.
He hated that.
Kaladin hated this armor. He hated wearing it. Somehow, the very thing that he thought would give him his salvation was now shackling him. Oh yes, Kaladin Stormblessed, the one who killed a shardbearer with nothing but a spear and his battle sense! The one who secured Alethkar another invaluable set of shards, the one who was oh so resplendant as he stood like a storming herald! His only flaw was those two brown eyes in his skull, but don't pay attention to that! He was light eyes, of course! No dark eyes could ever hope to be a shardbearer! So we made him light eyes, to help drill in the fact that they're always more important than dark eyes! Why? Just because!
"Why am I wearing this, again?" Kaladin asked. Brother Pashil, an Ardent that Amaram had given him as a gift of his "new status", looked up from his scroll.
"Bright Lord Kala-"
"Just Kaladin, Pashil" he said for what felt like the hundredth time. Pashil sighed.
"Kaladin" He said with a pointed look, "You are a shardbearer. As much as you may be loathe to admit, you are a symbol now; A symbol of Alethkar's might".
"Were going into a war camp" Kaladin said. "I'm pretty sure the men will have seen their daily dose of Alethkar's might"
"It isn't simply that" Pashil said. "Kaladin, you are a symbol to all the dark eyes, and the light eyes alike. You must realize your position right now. This is the first time in centuries, possibly millennia, that a dark eyes soldier slew a shardbearer and became a light eyes. You are a symbol of hope to all of them. You show them that it is possible to do the impossible, to climb insurmountable obstacles. To them, they look at you and think 'I can become light eyed too'". Kaladin gave a faint growl at this, the fact that some wanted to be light eyes.
"Oh yes" He said sarcastically. "And what of the light eyes, how am I a symbol to them?" Pashil looked around, and lowered his voice.
"Your not so much a symbol, but your arrival must be" He said. Kaladin looked at him, confused. "You are a... threat to many of them, Kaladin. A... proverbial encroachment on their territory. You are a light eyes in name only to many of them. Not many think you are worthy of these shards. Many will try to find a way to strip you of them, to take them, and your titles. You need to prove that you are worthy to wear this" He said, tapping his chest-piece.
"So to combat this, we're making a grand entrance" Kaladin said.
"...Of a kind" Pashil replied. "It's only our first step. Your impressive height certainly helps you cut a more imposing figure. The only other who reaches your height when wearing plate is, I believe, High Prince Aladar". Kaladin blinked at that. He was one of the tallest? He had actually hoped that his height would make the plate a wrong fit, but the storming suit actually formed to the user, growing where it needed to compliment his form.
"I would have thought I'd be one of the shortest among them..."
"It would be easy to think such, but no. Aladar is the tallest high prince, with High Prince Dalinar behind him, and-"
"The kings uncle?" Kaladin half said, half asked.
"Yes. Right now, he is partially your rival"
"What?" Kaladin said, surprised. "I haven't even got in the camp yet, how do I hav-" A figure opened the tent he was in, paused upon seeing Kaladin in his full plate, and then coughed.
"You're expected in one minute, bright lord". Kaladin gave a low grunt at the title, quiet enough that only Pashil heard it, and nodded his head at the man. Pashil turned to look at Kaladin as the man left.
"Well, Lord Dalinar himself isn't directly your rival, but... We'll speak more on this later. Right now, summon your blade".
"Why? I thought I didn't have to hold it anymore since it was bonded".
"A status symbol, Kaladin. We'll put it in the sheath, and you'll wear it at your back. You're making a statement by letting people see it".
Kaladin sighed, holding out his hand as he counted his heartbeats. This was a storming war! He was in a suit made for war, summoning a blade made for war, and yet all these light eyes were concerned with was petty politics and showboating! Why in the world weren't they just sending him to the nearest trainer right away, so he could become a battlefield asset as soon as possible?
The blade formed in his hand, condensation dripping on it's length. One of the servants stepped back, before coming towards him again, and slinging his sheath strap over his shoulder. Kaladin slid the blade in, careful not to knock it into anything as he did so. A servant hefted his helmet, and Kaladin took it in one hand, looking down. The helmet starred back up at him, and he paused, looking at it.
"All the world in a man's hand" He muttered, "Yet he cannot hold a thing..."
He slid the helmet on, sliding the face plate up as he did so. He wanted them to see his face, his commoner's features, and most importantly, his eyes. He wanted to affirm the stories, that he was a dark eyes, not a light eyes. He wanted to let them know that he had succeeded where so many others had failed. Let them gawk and point at the scandal of it all. He wanted them to do so.
Pashil walked behind him as Kaladin ripped aside the caravan tent's flap, light flooding his eyes. Beside him stood a horse, stout and firm with a large saddle on its back. Kaladin looked over to Pashil, who nodded. He looked back and sighed, before he slipped his foot into the stirrup, and hoisted himself onto the beast. He'd worried that the horse wouldn't be able to hold him, but it merely gave a harsh breath, before standing firm under his weight.
Kaladin made sure to gently squeeze with his leg on the horse's side, still trying to get used to his strength in the plate, as he pushed forward on the saddle, urging the beast on. It began a light walk, as Kaladin's caravan, save the ones currently dissembling his tent, continued behind him, Pashil directly behind and to the right of his horse. He looked down from the hill they were on.
The war camps were sprawled in a long row below him, trailing off in the distance, standing on the edge of the plains. To the east, he could see miles and miles of ravines and crevasses, zigzagging through the earth. On some plateaus were bridges, though these were only on the ones immediately by the camps.
They were currently heading towards the Kholin war camp. Though he belonged to Sadeas' army since he was under Amaram, he was to see the king first, who, being a Kholin himself, resided with the Kholins. Ironically, Kaladin found himself not so much anticipating the meeting as he did possibly seeing Dalinar Kholin. The Black Thorn was a legendary figure. Storms, the man was one of two people who united Alethkar!
And apparently he'd somehow gotten on his bad side enough to make him a rival.
Kaladin rode into camp, his entourage following him. They passed by a set of blue flags, the Kholin house symbol on them, as they came in. Everyone paused at seeing him. Some soldiers gave him a glance, before looking back down. Those ones had seen shardbearers before. Then, one of them slapped his friend on the thigh, and pointed to him. Specifically his face.
Kaladin rode passed the people, who all stopped what they were doing, looking at him. One of them dropped a bucket of water, letting it splash against the ground. Kaladin took this all in stride, looking straight forward as he rode. The people of the camp began to whisper. Before long, everyone was flooding the dirt street of the camp, coming to see him.
They all stood in silence, looking at him. Though he didn't let it show, Kaladin felt uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being the center of attention. The only experience he had was being captain of his squad, but that was different. Now, when everyone was looking at him in disbelief, some with awe and some with anger, he found that he had no clue what to do. He was just about to look over to Pashil for some form of support. Then, something odd happened.
As Kaladin rode through the shocked silence, hoping he was going towards... wherever the king was, he was stopped by a young dark eyed boy. The boy stood in front of his horse, a good couple yards away. What was a child doing in the war camps? He supposed families were here, but where were his parents? Kaladin halted his horse, looking back at Pashil, who looked at him, just as curious. Kaladin looked back at the boy, who was... was he crying?
Kaladin got off the horse, thudding to the ground. He approached the young boy, as the crowd watched him. The young lad had dropped his teddy bear into the puddle as he cried. Kaladin knelt beside him, picking up the bear as he did so.
"Why are you crying, young man?" Kaladin asked.
"M-m-mama said you wasn't real" He said "She said there wasn't no way a dark eyes became a shardbearer. You're just a dream, just..." Kaladin's eyes turned soft, as he gently smiled at the boy. The boy was voicing almost all the crowd's emotions. They all didn't believe it. Disbelief was dangerous. It could turn to jealousy, and anger very quickly. But if he did things right, it just might turn to amazement.
"What's your name" He asked.
"Wenth, sir" He said, holding up his arm to his eyes. Kaladin, very gently, lowered the boys arm, and made him look up at him.
"Wenth," He said "My name is Kaladin Stormblessed, and I am no dream" He said with a smile, as he handed the boy his stuffed bear. "Do you know why I'm in this camp?"
"Your helping with the war?" Wenth asked.
"Yes sir, young man. I'm here to kill those who took our king's life. But what about right now? What do you think I'm doing currently?"
"You're... gonna see the king?" Kaladin smiled.
"Good guess, young man. Yes, I'm seeing the king. And I already saw him" Wenth looked up at him "I saw him as I was coming in the camp. I saw him with a group of soldiers. I saw him with a woman who dropped a water bucket. I saw him a good hundred times now" Kaladin reached up, brushing aside the child's hair, and pointing at his eyes.
"And I see them right here" Kaladin said. "Today, these are king". The boy smiled at him, tears in his eyes as Kaladin rose and turned, striding towards his horse. Glory spren, like golden streaks, started floating among the dark eyes, among the crowd, and among Kaladin. As he got on his horse, one soldier started to clap. Then another.
And then the camp erupted in roars applause, as the dark eyes chanted Kaladin's name.
They rode on as men and women of the camp thundered with applause for Kaladin. A few light eyed officers looked at him in shock, but most of the crowd were dark eyed. He looked back at Pashil. He usually hated being the center of attention, but he found himself smiling at the Ardent nonetheless. The man simply smiled back, shaking his head.
"A bit on the flashy side, no Kaladin?" He said. Kaladin smiled in reply.
Kaladin crested the hill of the war camp minutes later, the roar of applause still lingering behind him. The hill was topped with a small palace, nothing impressive, but certainly a sight in this place. Outside of it, flanked by a few Alethi and tailed by some guards, was a somewhat short man wearing a crown, walking towards the entryway.
"I say" He said "What is all that racket in the camp? Wha-" He stopped as one of the guards tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed at Kaladin.
The king spotted him, and stopped, taking a nervous glance to the side as a few of the guards put there hands on their blades. That was more a token gesture than a real threat. Swords weren't all that useful against shardplate. The real threat was... yes, there. A man in blue, with what looked like his sons trailing him, was holding out his hand at his side, eyes narrowed, ready to summon his blade.
Kaladin stopped his horse, dismounting, and sending a few cracks through the stone as he landed. He confidently strode up to the king, as other in the group held their hands out as well, though that man's second son, and another man in red notably did not. Kaladin stopped, surprising them, and knelt, taking off his helmet.
"Your majesty" Kaladin said, eyes down "My name is Kaladin, the Stormblessed. I have come by your request to aid you in this vengeance pact, and bring justice upon the Parshendi for their crimes. I offer you myself as your blade, ready to use as you wish, and your shield, ready to defend you from any foe. My strength is now yours." He waited a bit through the silence, noticing some of the, what he assumed were, shardbearers look to the king, still at the ready.
"Ah!" the king said, eyes lighting up. "You must be that shardbearer that Amaram told me about over the span reed!". Kaladin blinked at the... informality with which he spoke. King Elhokar stepped up to him, motioning him up as he did so. Kaladin hesitantly rose, taking a glance towards the group behind the king.
"Oh yes indeed, he is dark eyed, Uncle! My, a dark eyed shardbearer!" The king said, shaking his head and smiling. "Who'd have thought it possible! But I suppose the world is full of wonders, is it not? And I also suppose you're a light eyes now!" He looked back at the group. The man in blue was smiling at him. He might be Sadeas.
"You'll have to tell me the story at some point!" The king said. "Killing a shardbearer with but a spear! I'm not even sure any of my high lords could do that!"
"Umm... Not much to the story, your majesty... I'm sure a lot of it was luck..." Kaladin said. The king waved him off.
"Oh, you're going to have to learn to embellish things if you want to survive the world of the light eyes! What's your name, again?"
"...Um, my name is Kaladin... Your majesty" The king shook his gauntleted hand.
"A pleasure, Kaladin!" He said, as the rest of the group stepped up. Kaladin, not really knowing what to do, saluted the high lords. The man in blue saluted back, as did the man in red after a moment's pause, some mirth on his wrinkled features. If he had to guess, that one would be Dalinar, his new rival.
"Not often do you hear stories of common soldiers killing a shardbearer" the man in blue said, "And then find proof of it right in front of your face" He held out a hand for Kaladin to shake.
"We get a lot of stories in the infantry, but nothing true. It's a pleasure to meet you, high prince. I am Kaladin"
"And I am Dalinar Kholin" He said. Kaladin jumped a bit at that. He was...? Well, the family resemblance to Elhokar was there, but the man's kindness surprised him. Wasn't this his supposed rival?
"Um... Kaladin..." He said. Dalinar chuckled.
"You have said such" He said.
"Sorry, bright lord" Kaladin said, looking for an excuse, "It's just that... storms, you're the Black Thorn! When I was a kid, me and my friends fought over who got to pretend to be you when we played war! Seeing you in person is..." He shook his head, as Dalinar laughed, clapping him on the back.
"Don't let all the stories sway you! Many are fake, anyway. I'm a man, same as you!" He said. Kaladin just shook his head, as the man in red stepped up to him.
"And I trust I was one of the positions fought over in the war games as well?" He said with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. Kaladin took a moment to look him over, trying to discern his identity, before spotting the Sadeas crest on his shoulder. Of course. The red should have been a dead giveaway.
"Of course, Bright Lord Sadeas! Being the first ally to the king when he conquered Alethkar cemented that!" He said with a smile of his own, shaking his hand. Kaladin neglected to tell the man that his position was often the third or fourth one picked, only after the good ones had gone. He didn't think the man would care much, but then again, he didn't know his personal Lord's attitude.
"You are under my jurisdiction, yes? We'll speak more on your position in my army later" Kaladin nodded, as Dalinar's son stepped up behind him, as did a younger man with the same resemblance.
"Personally, I'm just glad to have another shardbearer on the battlefield. Adolin Kholin" He said simply. Kaladin nodded at him, glad that at least someone was a little passed the pleasantries and wanted to get the war over with. His brother said nothing, simply nodding at him as he passed, and following the king as he beckoned Kaladin over.
"Come, Kaladin!" King Elhokar said. "Slaying any shardbearer demands a feast! And a feast you will have!"
Kaladin felt relieved to finally be out of his plate. Wearing it certainly made you feel like you could take the world, but after a while, it got hot and claustrophobic. Added to that, he had a drumming headache from the infinite amount of high lords and "important" light eyes that he'd met at the feast. After all, when one became a shard bearer, it was imperative that they meet the sister in law of the woman who's married to the second greatest sculptor in Alethkar.
Vital stuff, that is.
Kaladin sighed, laying down on his bed. He'd have to drop by his squad's barracks tomorrow morning. Or rather, his old squad. Now that he was fourth dahn, he was a second in command to a battalion commander in Sadeas' army, who's name was Laksal. He was one of the few light eyes he actually made a note of to remember when he was introduced. Though he didn't have Amaram's charisma and kindness, Laksal was just as professional and orderly as his old commander, if not more so. Kaladin supposed that was all he could ask for in a commander.
"Feeling overwhelmed?". Kaladin looked up, seeing Pashil leaning on the doorway.
"Over-tested on my patience, maybe" Pashil raised an eyebrow at him.
"Why's that".
"Because I should be nursing practice bruises right now, not a headache. That whole feast was just one fake smile after another. Of all the people I met tonight, not one of them was someone who would be teaching me how to swing a shardblade".
"You're eager to get into battle, are you?"
"No. I'm eager to actually fulfill the roll that I'm meant to do here. So far, all I've done of note here was see a king more interesting in celebrating than he was-" Kaladin stopped himself.
"Go ahead".
"No. Sorry, insulting the king is bordering on treason. I shouldn't speak like that".
"The Almighty values truth more than men's egos, Kaladin. Even king's egos. You're frustrated that the King isn't focusing on fulfilling the oath pact?" Kaladin didn't reply, but Pashil could see the point hitting home.
"When I was in Amaram's army" Kaladin said. "There was no time for feasts, or meeting important people. A man in a war was a tool of war. We were taught that was the case for all people, whether a light eyed officer, or a dark eyed grunt. But everyone here is more focused on pettiness than fulfilling their use as a tool of war to the best of their abilities. I mean, storms, I saw at least fifty officers at that feast drunk! Isn't that violation of the Codes of War?"
"And how frustrated do you think this must make the actual officers?" Pashil said. "The actual generals here looking to win the war? You're not the only one done with this all, Kaladin"
"And who else is?"
"Dalinar Kholin, for one I would think..." He said. Kaladin perked up at this "He's already stopped going on plateau runs due to the frivolity of them"
"Plateau runs?"
"Competitions, basically. A scramble to see who can retrieve large gemstones that grow in chasm fiend's chests. They pupate around these areas, which makes it easy for our armies to harvest them. The runs are more for wealth than winning the war, yet most of the battles with Parshendi occur over these runs".
"So were wasting our time securing gemstones instead of ending this war? Why not defeat the Parshendi, and then we can harvest as many gems as we want with no danger!" Pashil simply shrugged.
"Most of the high lords are dragging it out. The gems will start going to the court after this war is done, when there won't be a need for the high lords to secure them. They're getting as many as they can".
"Why doesn't the king simply order them to do the jobs they were sent to do?" Pashil looked at him, and just shrugged. Kaladin found himself getting angry. "And all the high lords do this? Even my current one, Sadeas?"
"He's actually the most notorious for this. But for your former question, and like I was saying before, Dalinar Kholin has recently stopped doing this, and not merely out of a lack of ability like some of the smaller high lords"
"Kholin..." Kaladin said. "You said you were going to explain how he's my rival right now. He seemed a good man when we spoke" Pashil sighed.
"It's... a bit complicated. You're not his rival directly, but Sadeas is his rival. And that means, by extension, you".
"He didn't seem to have ill will towards me"
"No, I doubt he will. But many under him will make an enemy of you out of devotion to their high lord. They automatically associate you with Sadeas, and therefor, a foe" He paused. "In fact, I would watch specifically his son, Adolin. The young boy is an accomplished duelist, and being a shardbearer with no knowledge of how to use them makes you a prime target for a duel"
"A duel?"
"To win shards" Pashil said. "Looser of the duel relinquishes their shards to winner, and you are quite vulnerable to that right now. However, Dalinar has strictly enforced the codes of war upon those under him, Adolin being one of them. One of the tenants is to avoid needless duels. Unless you bring some insult upon their house, then he won't have a way to win your shards"
"I expected people to try and take them from me" Kaladin said.
"I will warn you now. This will be taxing. You will receive not a few amount of insults day in and day out in an attempt to rile you. They want a response, Kaladin. They want you to insult them, so they can have a justified reason to duel you, where you cannot say no. As long as you hold your tongue, be respectful, and don't take any hostile action, then there will be no reason for you to accept duels from anyone, until you are competent in them. You will get requests from many nonetheless, but you can refuse them with little consequence"
"Anything else I should know?"
"One more thing" Pashil said "I don't think he'll pull anything overt, but... Sadeas... might try to go for your blade" Kaladin openly gawked at the man.
"My blade" He said to a nod "The high lord is petty enough to go for one of his lieutenant's blades?"
"I said he might go for it" Pashil said. "Sadeas has plate, but through all of his conquests, he's never had a blade. Normally, if he had an underling with a blade, he'd make no moves for it. But with you being a dark eyes..."
"Everyone would pretty well turn a blind eye to it" Kaladin said. Pashil hesitated, but then slowly nodded.
"He'd get a lot of insults, a lot of pressure, but if he laid low on the political game for a while afterwards, he'd probably get away with it" Kaladin sat in silence for a moment.
"Storms, could I just move my allegiance to another high prince?"
"You'd need to own land in their domain, or have a just cause for switching. Usually, this would involve you having a political rivalry with your current lord, or him taking some kind of malicious act against you. I doubt Sadeas will ever give you enough reason to legally do this, though. A shard bearer under his control is far too valuable". Kaladin simply shook his head.
"I'm too valuable to him, yet he seeks my blade" He thought for a moment. "What sort of logic is that"
"One that requires him, and you, to balance a lot of variables. You're mere existence has brought many problems on Sadeas' head. For one, you have incredibly boosted his army's value and prowess just by being in it. On the other, you have damaged him politically by breaking the norm while under his rule.".
"Sound's like they're his problems"
"And yours, by association. Kaladin" Pashil said, looking directly at him, "You are playing a great balancing act right now, where you have to maneuver to leave Sadeas, while also moving to prove to Sadeas that you're worth something. Or else"
"Worst he can do is take my blade. What'll he do, kill me?"
"..."
"He'd actually do that?"
"It... would save him a lot of trouble" He said. "If you had an... accident... then your blade and plate would go to him, since you have no legal heir. It would get rid of his political stress, while also maintaining the shards in his possession, and most importantly, it would grant him a shard blade" He pointed straight at Kaladin. "Your only options right now are either to become a masterful politician-"
"No"
"Then your only path" Pashil said "is to become a warrior so mighty, an asset so valuable, that you're worth more than the blade to him. You need to become another Sunmaker, another Blackthorn. You already have a grand namesake" Pashil said, taking a breath.
"Now you must make men tremble when they hear the name Stormblessed".