"You're in an unusually good mood today." Syl zipped around his head in that carefree manner of hers.

"No, I'm not."

They were on their way back to the barracks of Bridge Four after the trainings session with the princeling.

"Yes, you are," Syl stopped flitting about, hovering in the air before him, hands on hips. She always managed to appear bigger than she was when she did that. "Don't try to lie to me, Kaladin." She pointed a finger at him accusatorily.

Kaladin sighed. Syl and his mother would get along splendidly.

"I'm not lying, Syl. I'm always in a better mood when I get to exercise with Stormlight. There is nothing unusual about it."

Syl deflated a little, seeming disappointed. "I suppose that is true." She abandoned her slightly threatening stance and did a slow circle around him. "But you're still in a better mood than usual."

"Perhaps," Kaladin grunted, "I like training with Stormlight and I haven't been able to use it against a Shardblade without needing to hide it. It feels good, not having to hide it."

A pair of guards saluted him from a distance and he gave a brief nod in return. It still felt weird, being greeted by lighteyed soldiers because he outranked them or because they respected him for what he had done for the Kholin house.

"You had fun, training with Adolin."

Kaladin scowled. "It wasn't because of him."

"Kaladin!" Syl sounded exasperated. "Can't you just admit that you were having fun? You didn't play around like that with Rock or Lopen."

Sometimes he wished Syl was some sort of broody spren that didn't stick her nose into everything. Especially not things he didn't want to examine too closely. But he couldn't deny that she was right. It was true that he hadn't fooled around like that with the others. In his defence, neither Rock not Lopen had been down in the chasms with him since he could control his powers better.

Training with Adolin had been fun. Surprisingly so. The princeling hadn't been insufferable at all. It was odd to converse with Adolin without wanting to smack him.

It was a pleasant oddness. And Kaladin had been caught completely off-guard by it.

The princeling had always been so hostile towards him, and Kaladin had responded in kind. It felt a bit weird not disliking the princeling as much anymore. If Adolin had been suspicious of him all this time because there had been something off about him, Kaladin couldn't fault the princeling too much. Suspicion and caution was what kept you alive.

Though that didn't mean Kaladin could just forgive the way Adolin had treated him.

"Yes, training with him was fun," Kaladin finally admitted to Syl who looked pleased with his answer.

"I knew it."

"Knew what?" Kaladin lower his voice as he was striding through the mostly deserted streets of the camp. The occasional group of drunk men could be heard loud and clear in the quiet.

"That Adolin is a good person."

"I never said he wasn't. Just spoiled and insufferable." Those attributes weren't mutually exclusive. You could be a good person and insufferable.

"The two of you are a bit alike. You should trust him more."

"No, Syl," He glanced at her, willing her to understand. "I trusted Amaram. I trusted Dalinar. I won't just trust another lighteyes."

"But he didn't tell Dalinar."

He shook his head. "Not because he respected my wishes. Only because he wants my help." Kaladin knew Adolin was a good man. The soldiers respected him and Adolin treated them well. Bridge Four liked him. He remembered Adolin helping the girl in Sadeas' camp. The princeling had honour. But just because he had honour didn't mean Kaladin could trust him. Dalinar was a good man and had honour – but that hadn't stopped him from dismissing what Kaladin had told him without a second thought.

He couldn't shoulder another crushed hope.

Syl fell silent until they could see the glow of the fireplace outside Bridge Four's barracks.

"You know, Kaladin, I want to see you smile more, even if you can't trust Adolin with everything, it was nice to see you smile."

"I know," Kaladin muttered as Syl zipped over to where Rock was sitting with the others that weren't on duty.

"Kaladin!" Rock greeted in his loud voice when he saw Kaladin approach. The other's looked up, eager faces turned towards him. "Tell! Who won the bet?"

"He took Teft's uniform jacket."

Rock bellowed a laugh. He had bet the princeling would not walk through camp wearing the second-hand outfit one of Lopen's cousins had acquired somewhere.

There was an unhappy murmuring from some of the others that had wagered on the wrong outcome. Kaladin sat down in an empty spot, stretching his legs.

"And? Come on, Kaladin! Tell us something! How was it?"

"Not much to tell. He's just getting familiar with what to expect from someone using Stormlight. It'll take a bit before we can train properly. Though without plate he's at a disadvantage." Syl puffed her cheeks as he spoke, not pleased that he had made it sound so dry. Storms, she couldn't expect him to tell his men it had been fun. After Moash, Rock, Teft and Lopen had tried so often to get him to go drinking with them and have a good time. Kelek knew how they'd tease him with that. Not to mention after him often and loudly declaring how very insufferable he found the princeling.

"No throttling for playing with him for bet?" Rock seemed a bit disappointed when Kaladin denied any throttling.

The warmth of the fire and the voices of his men lulled him into a relaxed state and he nearly dozed off to the sound of Rock's booming laugh, before getting up and heading into his room.

Loud voices startled Kaladin. He sat up and listened. The voices were growing in volume. Coming closer.

There was screaming.

Kaladin sat up in alarm. He knew that voice. It belonged to Syl.

He was out of the bed and by the door in two heartbeats, speer in hand. He ran out. His legs felt sluggish. Not carrying him fast enough.

He tried to suck in Stormlight but no surge of strength came. Instead a surge of panic rushed through him. He hurried onward, not slowing down when a group of people came into view. Pushing his way through the crowd, Kaladin felt sick when he saw a lighteyed man holding Syl in an unforgiving grip.

People seemed to finally notice him as Kaladin shouted for the man to let Syl go. He tried to get to her but the crowd around him would not let him get any further.

His spear was gone. As was his Stormlight.

The feeling of utter helplessness crushed into him like the wall of a Highstorm.

Hands were everywhere, stopping his movement and restraining him. Keeping him away from Syl.

Syl turned towards him. Tears were streaming down her face a he called out to him.

He knew they would find a way to take her away from him. The lighteyes always managed to take important people away from him.

The breath was knocked out of him as his body hit the ground hard. He felt lightheaded and dazed and some part of him wondered if his head had landed on a rock, but there was no pain. There was not much of anything except for the cold fear and panic overwhelming him.

He tried to stand back up but a heavy weight was pushing down on top of him and he was left to lye there.

Powerless.

Useless.

His throat hurt from shouting. And still he could do nothing but watch as Syl was carried away. Away from him.

Leaving him once again to realize that everybody he tried to save or cared about was inevitably taken away from him.

The lighteyes taking Syl grew smaller and smaller as Kaladin felt himself, both body and soul growing weaker, until they disappeared down the road.

He felt numb.

The weight pressing down on his body disappeared but Kaladin couldn't move. It was as if his body was no longer his.

He felt insubstantial.

Broken.

Kaladin woke up shaking and gasping for breath, the broken syllable of Syl a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

Sorry for the long way guys! RL kept annoying me the past few weeks but the worst is over ow and I'll try to get back to my previous routine of updating once a week. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this Kaladin POV interlude! Not sure yet if I'll try to write more of these.