Wit stands in a Kholinar bread line, musing that great art must risk hatred. To perfect his disguise, he provokes a Thaylen man into punching him and knocking out a tooth. He suppresses his healing to keep the wound, embracing grime and dishevelment as he moves among the city’s suffering.

He visits Kheni, a grieving woman rocking an empty cradle, and her husband Cob. Nearby, he finds a little girl hiding in rubble beside the skeletal remains of her mother. Wit crafts a rag doll, whispers to it, and animates it; the walking toy coaxes the child into the light. He carries the girl to the square and persuades Kheni to take her in, deciding that if art must be for someone, one saved life is enough.

Committing to leave the city, Wit adopts a twitching, muttering beggar’s act and approaches the palace. He slips past the airborne Fused sentry, Vatwha, and into an area the Fused obsessively clear. Harried by singer guards, he stumbles against a surviving wall and whispers to whatever hides within, offering truths and urging it to flee with him rather than be captured.

A rippling Pattern slides from a crack, crossing onto Wit’s palm as the guards throw him back among the beggars. The spren trembles on his skin. Wit soothes it with, “Life before death, little one,” and departs, having denied the Fused their quarry and secured a secret companion.