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“To be of use in even a single burst of flame and sound is worth more than a lifetime of achieving nothing.”
Oh, Marasi…
Suddenly he recognized the box right in front of him. It was his own trunk. The one he’d taken with him when first leaving for the Roughs, twenty years ago. The one—now battered and aged—that he’d brought back with him to the City. The one he’d filled with his guns on that night months ago. There was a tassel from a mistcoat hanging out of one side. You’re welcome, the voice whispered.
Thanks, Sazed!
“One day the men of gold and red, bearers of the final metal, will come to you. And you will be ruled by them.”
Gold and red? What?
