Adolin rode silently. Captain Kaladin…Shallan…they were both gone, fallen over the canyon's side when the bridge had collapsed not moments before. Adolin had been too slow to help. He replayed the scene in his head, the way he had run while frantically breathing in Stormlight that wouldn't come as the bridge had sent his friends into the abyss. Dalinor had only been shoved aside at the last moment by Kaladin.

Afterwards, Dalinor had organized the remaining soldiers quickly, and led a silent march back to the war camps. As they rode, he sometimes turned to examine Adolin, as if waiting for a reaction. Adolin, for his part, kept his eyes ahead, even as his emotions rumbled turbulently beneath.

Adolin had lost, dare he say it, two close friends. Kaladin, despite his gruff veneer, was the most noble person Adolin had ever met. And Shallan had been the only woman in the warcamps who didn't mind his mistakes, who he was away from the lights. (He would know, he'd dated almost every one of them). While those deaths hurt the most, he felt the loss of the other fallen as well, the soldiers and scribes he'd memorized the names of. Worst of all, he'd been the one to organize the trip in the first place for Shallan's scholarly pursuits, no matter what the mission had actually been for. It was his fault they'd died, in a way.

Back at camp, Dalinor was quick to debrief the soldiers, then send for Teft. Adolin liked the easy-going, albeit dogmatic, lieutenant. Though, Adolin worried about how he would take the news, or begin to tell Bridge Four.

After the runner had been sent, Adolin said stiffly,"May I be dismissed?"

"I'd like you to stay," Dalinor said in his usual gentle but firm way. He looked troubled, posture held as if only by force of will.

Dalinor conscripted a room in an office building nearby, one with a few chairs and tables officers had gathered around to plan army logistics. Teft arrived shortly after.

"Brightlord, sir," the bridgeman said with a sharp salute. His eyes darted around the room, as if looking for someone.

"At ease," Dalinor said. "I have news you need to hear firsthand."

"Sir?"

"I won't waste time skirting around the topic. Captain Kaladin is presumed dead, fallen into the chasms after an accident.

Teft turned to Adolin for confirmation. The prince shook his head. "I saw him fall…I'm sorry."

Dalinor continued, not unkindly,"Send someone to notify his next of kin. I'll need you to stay here and work out the details of your promotion to captain."

Adolin was embarrassed to admit that he'd never considered Kaladin's family. And he'd considered the man a friend?

"I'm sorry, Brightlord, but I can't accept the position," Teft said as if the matter was settled.

Adolin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why were all of the bridgemen so storming humble? Kaladin wouldn't take the Shardblade Adolin had offered him after the fight. Now Teft wouldn't accept a promotion. What would it take for the darkeyes in this camp to accept a little bit of responsibility, or storms, a gift?

Dalinor took the rejection in stride. "Very well, I understand not everyone enjoys leadership. I expect a nomination for the man to be promoted in your place by the end of the week."

"With all due respect Brightlord, this isn't about the position, or my presumed ability to lead. I don't wish to contradict either of you, but Kaladin has survived far worse than a simple fall. He's alive, sir, you'll see." Such simple and innocent hope colored Teft's glance that Adolin found himself wishing he could also believe the captain was safe.

Adolin butted in to accuse,"Could Kaladin have survived because he's a Radiant?" Strange things were always happening around Kaladin. It took favor from the Almighty to live through a highstorm or the Assassin in White, but to survive both was a skill. As for Shallan, she'd found her way to land after a shipwreck–despite never swimming in the ocean before. Neither of them were ordinary.

(Secretly, Adolin needed a reason to hope for their survival. A chance to absolve himself of their deaths).

"I don't know where you got such a strange idea. All I meant is that Kaladin is made of tougher stuff than the rest of us," Teft said with an air of forced casualness.

"Captain Kaladin was a good man. I only wonder how many more we'll lose before this war ends." Dalinor's facade cracked for a brief moment, a single sorrow spren appearing like a raindrop. Adolin struggled not to stare. Dalinor was always so in control of himself–especially since the war–that it was rare to see any spren around him. It was stranger still to see his father grieving, a man who had lost so many to one conflict or another. What must have Kaladin meant to his father to provoke such a reaction?

As Dalinor's composure returned, the spren quickly melted away. "Regardless Lieutenant, I have an army to run for the time being. I understand your men will need time to grieve, but I expect no one to shirk their duties because of it."

Dalinor and Teft talked for another minute or two about logistics, carefully avoiding the subject of grief.

Afterwards, Dalinor said to Adolin,"I expect you to take the rest of the day off. Don't think I'm not aware of when one of my own sons is putting on a facade. I'll break the news to Aunt Navani." Adolin did not envy his father the task. She would be devastated to learn that her final link to Jasnah had died.

"What about the planning meeting this afternoon?"

"There will be more preparation to do tomorrow. Today, there is time to grieve. Captain Kaladin and Shallan deserve what time we can give them."

Adolin nodded.

"You're dismissed." Dalinor actually smiled. It was uncomfortable, though not unwelcome, for Adolin to see his father try to be empathetic. It was with his typical heavy-handed approach, but it was a reminder that he did care.

Adolin accepted the dismissal without a further word, and took off for the training grounds.