The Story of Fleet

In the driest part of the brightest day, the man set off from the eastern sea. And where he went or why he ran, the answer comes from you to me.

The man was Fleet, whose name you know; he's spoken of in song and lore. The fastest man e'er known to live. The surest feet e'er known to roam. In time long past, in times I've known, he raced the Herald Chan-a-rach. He won that race, as he did each one, but now the time for defeat had come.

For Fleet so sure, and Fleet the quick, to all that heard he yelled his goal: to beat the wind, and race a storm. A claim so brash, a claim too bold. To race the wind? It can't be done. Undaunted, Fleet was set to run. So to the east, there went our Fleet. Upon the shore his mark was set.

The storm grew strong, the storm grew wild. Who was this man all set to dash? No man should tempt the God of Storms. No fool had ever been so rash.

O'er rock and grass, our Fleet did run! He leaped the stones and dodged the trees, his feet a blur, his soul a sun! The storm so grand, it raged and spun, but away from it our Fleet did run! The lead was his, the wind behind, did man now prove that storms could lose?

Through land he ran so quick and sure, and Alethkar he left behind. But now the test he saw ahead, for mountains he would have to climb. The storm surged on, released a howl; it saw its chance might now approach.

To the highest mounts and the coldest peaks, our hero Fleet did make his way. The slopes were steep and paths unsure. Would he maintain his mighty lead?

No! The storm grew close, 'til it chewed his heels. Upon his neck, Fleet felt its chill. Its breath of ice was all around, a mouth of night and wings of frost. Its voice was of the breaking rocks; its song was of the crashing rain.

Then the tip he reached! The point he found! Fleet climbed no more; he crossed the peak. And down the side, his speed returned! Outside the storm, Fleet found the sun. Azir's plains were now his path. He sprinted west, more broad his stride.

Yet soon the race its toll did claim. His feet like bricks, his legs like cloth. In gasps our runner drew his breath. The end approached, the storm outdone, but slowly did our hero run.

A final challenge raised its head, a final shadow to his dread. The land did rise up once again, the Misted Mountains guarding Shin. To leave the storming winds behind, our Fleet again began to climb.

The storm caught up.

The storms again came to his back, the winds again did spin around! The time was short, the ending near, as through those mounts our Fleet did dash.

It was right upon him. Even going down the other side of the mountains, he was unable to stay very far ahead.

He crossed the peaks, but lost his lead. The last paths lay before his feet, but strength he'd spent and might he'd lost. Each step was toil, each breath in pain. A sunken land he crossed with grief, the grass so dead it did not move.

But here the storm, it too did wilt, with thunder lost and lightning spent. The drops slipped down, now weak as wet. For Shin is not a place for them.

Ahead the sea, the race's end. Fleet stayed ahead, his muscles raw. Eyes barely saw, legs barely walked, but on he went to destiny. The end you know, the end will live, a shock for men to me you'll give.

Upon that land of dirt and soil, our hero fell and did not stir! His body spent, his strength undone, Fleet the hero was no more.

The storm approached and found him there. It stilled and stopped upon its course! The rains they fell, the winds they blew, but forward they could not progress.

For glory lit, and life alive, for goals unreached and aims to strive. All men must try, the wind did see. It is the test, it is the dream.

So in that land of dirt and soil, our hero stopped the storm itself. And while the rain came down like tears, our Fleet refused to end this race. His body dead, but not his will, within those winds his soul did rise.

It flew upon the day's last song, to win the race and claim the dawn. Past the sea and past the waves, our Fleet no longer lost his breath. Forever strong, forever fast, forever free to race the wind.

- From "Words of Radiance" by Brandon Sanderson