Words of Radiance

As to the other orders that were inferior in this visiting of the far realm of spren, the Elsecallers were prodigiously benevolent, allowing others as auxiliary to their visits and interactions; though they did never relinquish their place as prime liaisons with the great ones of the spren; and the Lightweavers and Willshapers both also had an affinity to the same, though neither were the true masters of that realm.

From Words of Radiance, chapter 6, page 2

Adolin slapped away Elit’s Shardblade with his forearm. Shardbearers didn’t use shields—each section of Plate was stronger than stone.

He swept in, using Windstance as he moved across the sand of the arena.

Win Shards for me, son.

Adolin flowed through the stance’s strikes, one direction then the other, forcing Elit away. The man scrambled, Plate leaking from a dozen places where Adolin had struck him.

Any hope for a peaceful end to the war on the Shattered Plains was gone. Done for. He knew how much his father had wanted that end, and the Parshendi arrogance made him angry. Frustrated.

He kept that down. He could not be consumed by it. He moved smoothly through the stance, careful, maintaining a calm serenity.

Elit had apparently expected Adolin to be reckless, as in his first duel for Shards. Elit kept backing up, waiting for that moment of recklessness. Adolin didn’t give it to him.

Today, he fought with precision—exacting form and stance, nothing out of place. Downplaying his ability in his previous duel had not coaxed anyone powerful into agreeing to a bout. Adolin had barely persuaded Elit.

Time for a different tactic.

Adolin passed where Sadeas, Aladar, and Ruthar watched. The core of the coalition against Father. By now, each of them had gone on plateau runs illicitly, getting to the plateau and stealing the gemheart before those assigned could arrive. Each time, they paid the fines Dalinar levied for their disobedience. Dalinar couldn’t do anything more to them without risking open war.

But Adolin could punish them in other ways.

Elit stumbled back, wary, as Adolin swept in. The man tested forward, and Adolin slapped the Blade away, then brought in a backhand and clipped Elit’s forearm. It, too, started to leak Stormlight.

The crowd murmured, conversations rising over the arena. Elit came in again, and Adolin slapped away his strikes, but did not counterattack.

Ideal form. Each step in place. The Thrill rose within him, but he shoved it down. He was disgusted by the highprinces and their squabbling, but today he would not show them that fury. Instead, he’d show them perfection.

“He’s trying to wear you down, Elit!” Ruthar’s voice from the stands nearby. In his younger years, he’d been something of a duelist himself, though nowhere near as good as Dalinar or Aladar. “Don’t let him!”

Adolin smiled inside his helm as Elit nodded and dashed forward in Smokestance, thrusting with his Blade. A gamble. Most contests against Plate were won by breaking sections, but at times you could drive the point of your Blade through a joint between plates, cracking them and scoring a hit.

It was also a way to try to wound your opponent, more than just defeat him.

Adolin calmly stepped back and used the proper Windstance sweeps for parrying a thrust. Elit’s weapon clanged away, and the crowd grumbled further. First, Adolin had given them a brutal show, which had annoyed them. Then, he’d given them a close fight, with plenty of excitement.

This time, he did something opposite of both, refusing the exciting clashes that were often so much a part of a duel.

He stepped to the side and swung to score a slight hit on Elit’s helm. It leaked from a small crack. Not as much as it should, however.

Excellent.

Elit growled audibly from within his helm, then came in with another thrust. Right at Adolin’s faceplate.

Trying to kill me, are you? Adolin thought, taking one hand from his Blade and raising it just under Elit’s oncoming Blade, letting it slide between his thumb and forefinger.

Elit’s Blade ground along Adolin’s hand as he lifted upward and to the right. It was a move that you could never perform without Plate—you’d end with your hand sliced in half if you tried that on a regular sword, worse if you tried it on a Shardblade.

With Plate, he easily guided the thrust up past his head, then swept in with his other hand, slamming his Blade against Elit’s side.