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Men like you preach change, but I wonder. Is this a battle we can really fight?” “You’re fighting it already, Goodman Mennis. You’re just losing horribly.”
Sometimes Kelsier felt that a skaa Misting’s life wasn’t so much about surviving as it was about picking the right time to die.
He didn’t realize he was observing his old custom this night until he glanced to the side, expecting Mare to be there next to him, as she always had been. Instead he found only the empty air. Lonely. Silent. The mists had replaced her. Poorly.
“Ah,” Kelsier said, “but being an annoyance is something that I am very good at. In fact, I’m far more than a mild annoyance—people tell me I can be downright frustrating. Might as well use this talent for the cause of good, eh?”
She wasn’t a bad person. She simply believed that everybody else was.
