Shallan - Plate

All of it together reminded her how alien Shadesmar had been. And how strange the human mind was, to have briefly found it natural. She lifted her arms to the sides, breathing it in—and out of nowhere a suit of red armor locked around her, forming out of mist. It crumpled—and even tore in places—her long coat. It encased her arms, pushed her satchel painfully into her ribs, and locked her head in a helmet, pressing her hair against her scalp and pulling at some of the strands.

Shallan gasped, suddenly constricted by the tight armor, and a part of her mind panicked, misinterpreting this as some kind of attack. Faintly, she heard the pieces speaking.

Shallan!

Shallan!

Shallan!

Gleeful, excited voices. So, one of those truths she’d spoken in there had done the trick. She had obtained the Fourth Ideal, likely when she’d confronted Veil—or when she’d spoken the Words earlier, to accompany those revelations. Adolin’s eyes went wide, then he grinned like a schoolboy, joyspren appearing around him in a swirl of blue leaves. Great. Of course he would love this.

Thankfully, Radiant came to her aid. “Can you do something,” Radiant said to the armor, “about the hair and the satchel?”

The armor sent back consternation. It was … new. These spren had never been armor before, and had only vague impressions of how to proceed. Radiant was forced to send a distinct mental image, which made the gorget loosen, then the helmet vanished so Radiant could pull her hair out and let it drape around her shoulders. The armor wasn’t as intelligent as Pattern, but it was eager to please—so with proper visualization, she got the armor to vanish and reappear in a way that left the satchel on the outside.

Unfortunately, the strap immediately snapped. As she grabbed it, the armor seemed thoughtful. Then one section fuzzed again, making a kind of side holster out of metal that would hold the satchel.

Shallan! the armor said, voices of the pieces overlapping, sounding proud of itself.

Well, that would do. If only Shallan would wear her hair in a utilitarian braid. It took so long to prepare it in the morning. Perhaps Shallan would agree to cut it down to an inch long …

The immediate horror from Shallan made Radiant back away from the idea.

“This is well,” Radiant said, looking to Adolin. “Though I will need training in its usage, I believe.”

“Yeah,” Adolin said. “Um … Radiant?”

She nodded.

“Don’t try to hold hands with anyone with that on. Or pick up anything. Or … well, just be careful.”

She dismissed the armor and fell an inch or so to the ground. Then she summoned it again as practice, further ripping the coat—and making Shallan cringe. Perhaps they could coach the spren on that. The helmet appeared and fit into place, leaving space at her neck for her hair to spill out the back, which … didn’t seem the most intimidating image.

Wind and Truth Chapter 13