"Eventually he stopped completely and stood for a long minute, still as stone. Only then did his composure break. And even with no one there to see, he hid his face in his hands and wept quietly, his body wracked with wave on wave of heavy, silent sobs."


Kvothe gestures to Chronicler, pausing his story telling, and chides Bast for letting his emotions overcome him.

Kvothe goes out to gather firewood for the fire and tells Bast to get two loaves ready to bake.

Bast begins talking to Chronicler and they make peace together, shaking hands once again but with genuine warmth. As Bast extends his arm to shake hands his sleeve pulls back revealing a blossoming bruise around his wrist. Kvothe is stronger than he looks.

As Kvothe loads the barrow with firewood he thinks of the past. His composure finally breaks. He hides his face in his hands and quietly weeps.



It was a mild autumn afternoon rather than the springtime of his story.