Nightblood - Surges

Kaladin set down the black sword—but noticed, as he did, that a line of darkness remained attached to his hand. His Stormlight continued to drain, vanishing, as if he were expending it on some great task.

I have learned from the other swords, Nightblood said in his mind. I know the Surges. I will Connect to you. You will feed me!

“Nightblood,” Kaladin whispered, “let go.”

It is time. We will destroy. Wield me!

Storms. Well, he’d heard he had to put the sword back in its sheath. As he reached for the silvery scabbard, the sword spoke again in his mind—the tone possessing an uncharacteristic forcefulness.

No. It is time. Give me to Szeth. I will draw from you, not him, but he needs me and we must DESTROY!

Kaladin glanced toward the rising Honorbearers. If there was fighting to be finished today, Szeth needed to do it. So Kaladin tossed the black sword to him—and that line of darkness connecting him to the weapon stretched. Feeding from Kaladin’s Stormlight, and not from Szeth’s soul.
Szeth lifted the weapon high. Kaladin, in turn, helped Syl rise.

“Kaladin,” she whispered, “what have you done?”

“Figured myself out, finally,” he said, with a smile. He looked toward Szeth. “We need to leave this next part to him.”

...

Neturo wept openly as he gripped his Blade. “I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “Szeth, I’m so sorry.”

He seemed to think that six against one was unfair odds. The one, however, was Szeth. “Sword-nimi,” he whispered. “You have created a bond to Kaladin. Does this mean you have been learning Surges from the Honorblades? Can you return to me my Lashings?”

Yes, the sword said. I can restore your Lashings. Those are easy. Even a spren can give those. Now we fight? We finally FIGHT?

Szeth felt a distinct chill in his right palm. Hopefully Kaladin’s Stormlight would hold, for otherwise the sword would consume them both. For now, Szeth had what he needed. His Lashings, and more. How long had it been since he’d been able to give his heart entirely to a fight? Not with the Skybreakers, not while puppeted by Taravangian’s strings, not even at the Battle of Thaylen Field.

It had been since he’d first picked up a Blade, and found it a dance. “Yes,” he whispered to Nightblood. “Now we fight.”

Wind and Truth Chapter 140