Dalinar- Stormriding

“Show me?” Dalinar asked, causing Szeth—­his omnipresent shadow—to glance at him. “How?”

You can ride the storm with me, the Stormfather said. I have given others this privilege on occasion.

“Ride the storm with you?” Dalinar said.

It is like the visions that Honor instructed me to grant, only it is now. Come. See.

“Martra,” Dalinar said, looking to the scribe who had been assigned to him today. “I might act odd for a short time. Nothing is wrong, but if I am not myself when my next appointment begins, please make them wait.”

“Um … yes, Brightlord,” she said, hugging her ledger, eyes wide. “Should I, um, get you a chair?”

“That would be a good idea,” Dalinar said. He didn’t feel like being closed up inside. He liked the scent of the air, even if it was too muggy here, and the sight of the open sky.

Martra returned with a chair and Dalinar settled himself, facing eastward. Toward the Origin, toward the storms—­though his view was blocked by the large stone stormbreak.

“Stormfather,” he said. “I’m—­”

He became the storm.

Dalinar soared along the front of the stormwall, like a piece of debris. No … like a gust of wind blowing with the advent of the storm. He could see—­comprehend—­far more than when he’d flown under Windrunner power.

Rhythm of War Chapter 71