The Well of Ascension (Mistborn, #2)

by Brandon Sanderson

She glanced over at OreSeur, who sat patiently, his chest puffing from exertion. She hadn’t realized that kandra even needed to breathe. He ate Kelsier. “Come on,” Vin said. She jumped from the building, Pushing herself off a coin. She didn’t pause to see if OreSeur followed.

No, they didn’t want to take the safe way out. These were the men who had challenged the Lord Ruler, men who had made their livelihood scamming noblemen. In some ways, they were very careful; they could be precise in their attention to detail, cautious in covering their tracks and protecting their interests. But when it came time to gamble for the big prize, they were often willing. No, not willing. Eager. Great, Elend thought. I’ve filled my inner council with a bunch of thrill-seeking masochists. Even worse, I’ve decided to join them. But, what else could he do? “We could at least consider it,” Breeze said. “It does sound exciting.”

Sazed rose, robes swishing as he stepped to Vin’s chair. He stooped down, placing his head even with hers, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, child. When will you stop worrying and simply let yourself be loved?” Vin shook her head. “It’s not that easy.” “Few things are. Yet, I tell you this, Lady Vin. Love must be allowed to flow both ways—if it is not, then it is not truly love, I think. It is something else. Infatuation, perhaps? Either way, there are some of us who are far too quick to make martyrs of ourselves. We stand at the side, watching, thinking that we do the right thing by inaction. We fear pain—our own, or that of another.

Tindwyl stood outside, arms crossed. “I think I would feel more comfortable in this city,” she said, “if I didn’t know that our Mistborn had the volatile emotions of a teenage girl.” “Lady Vin is more stable than you think,” Sazed said. “Sazed, I’ve raised some fifteen daughters,” Tindwyl said, entering the room. “No teenage girl is stable. Some are just better at hiding it than others.” “Then, be glad she didn’t hear you eavesdropping,” Sazed said. “She is usually rather paranoid about such things.”

“At first glance, the key and the lock it fits may seem very different,” Sazed said. “Different in shape, different in function, different in design. The man who looks at them without knowledge of their true nature might think them opposites, for one is meant to open, and the other to keep closed. Yet, upon closer examination, he might see that without one, the other becomes useless. The wise man then sees that both lock and key were created for the same purpose.”

Sazed nodded. “It is as valid as any witness the obligators could give you, I think. Be warned, the Larsta love oath is binding. They knew no form of divorce in their culture. Do you accept my witness of this event?” Vin nodded. Elend felt himself doing the same. “Then you are married,” Sazed said, tying off his thread, then draping a cloth across Vin’s chest. “Hold this for a bit, Lady Vin, and stanch the rest of the bleeding.” Then he moved on to her cheek.

He tapped pewter. His muscles grew. He drew deeply upon his pewtermind as he dashed forward, taking more strength than he ever had before. He had spent years storing up strength, rarely finding occasion to use it, and now he tapped that reserve. His body changed, weak scholar’s arms transforming into massive, bulky limbs. His chest widened, bulging, and his muscles grew taut with power. Days spent fragile and frail focused on this single moment. He shoved his way through the ranks of soldiers, pulling his robe over his head as it grew too restrictive, leaving himself wearing only a vestigial loincloth. The lead koloss turned to find himself facing a creature nearly his own size. Despite its rage, despite its inhumanness, the beast froze, surprise showing in its beady red eyes. Sazed punched the monster. He hadn’t practiced for war, and knew next to nothing about combat. Yet, at that moment, his lack of skill didn’t matter. The creature’s face folded around his fist, its skull cracking. Sazed turned on thick legs, looking back at the startled soldiers. Say something brave! he told himself. “Fight!” Sazed bellowed, surprised at the sudden deepness and strength of his voice. And, startlingly, they did.

Allrianne paled. “That’s it?” she hissed. “That’s why we returned, so that you can give our kingdom to that monster?” “What else did you expect?” Cett demanded. “You know me, Allrianne. You know that this is the choice I have to make.” “I thought I knew you,” she snapped. “I thought you were a good man, down deep.” Cett shook his head. “The good men are all dead, Allrianne. They died inside that city.”