Kaladin looked down. "Why couldn't I protect him?" he thought, looking at Tien, remembering his brother's laugh. His innocence, his smile, his excitement at exploring the hills outside Hearthstone.
Please. Please let me protect him. Make me strong enough.
He felt so weak. Blood loss. He found himself slumping to the side, and with tired hands, he tied off his wound. And then, feeling terribly vacant inside, he lay down beside Tien and pulled the body close.
"Don't worry," Kaladin whispered. When had he started to cry? "I'll bring you home. I'll protect you, Tien. I'll bring you back. ..."
He held the body into the evening, long past the end of the battle, clinging to it as it slowly grew cold.