The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  She leaned up, looking at his smirking face. “You know, Elend—sometimes it’s bloody difficult to tell when you’re teasing, and when you’re just being dense.”

  “That makes me more mysterious, right?”

  “Something like that,” she said, snuggling up against him again.

  “Now, see, you don’t understand how clever that is of me,” he said. “If people can’t tell when I’m being an idiot and when I’m being a genius, perhaps they’ll assume my blunders are brilliant political maneuverings.”

  “As long as they don’t mistake your actual brilliant moves for blunders.”

  “That shouldn’t be difficult,” Elend said. “I fear I have few enough of those for people to mistake.”

  Vin looked up with concern at the edge in his voice. He, however, smiled, shifting the topic. “So, OreSeur the dog. Will he still be able to go out with you at nights?”

  Vin shrugged. “I guess. I wasn’t really planning on bringing him for a while.”

  “I’d like it if you did take him,” Elend said. “I worry about you out there, every night, pushing yourself so hard.”

  “I can handle it,” Vin said. “Someone needs to watch over you.”

  “Yes,” Elend said, “but who watches over you?”

  Kelsier. Even now, that was still her immediate reaction. She’d known him for less than a year, but that year had been the first in her life that she had felt protected.

  Kelsier was dead. She, like the rest of the world, had to live without him.

  “I know you were hurt when you fought those Allomancers the other night,” Elend said. “It would be really nice for my psyche if I knew someone was with you.”

  “A kandra’s no bodyguard,” Vin said.

  “I know,” Elend said. “But they’re incredibly loyal—I’ve never heard of one breaking Contract. He’ll watch out for you. I worry about you, Vin. You wonder why I stay up so late, scribbling at my proposals? I can’t sleep, knowing that you might be out there fighting—or, worse, lying somewhere in a street, dying because nobody was there to help you.”

  “I take OreSeur with me sometimes.”

  “Yes,” Elend said, “but I know you find excuses to leave him behind. Kelsier bought you the services of an incredibly valuable servant. I can’t understand why you work so hard to avoid him.”

  Vin closed her eyes. “Elend. He ate Kelsier.”

  “So?” Elend asked. “Kelsier was already dead. Besides, he himself gave that order.”

  Vin sighed, opening her eyes. “I just…don’t trust that thing, Elend. The creature is unnatural.”

  “I know,” Elend said. “My father always kept a kandra. But, OreSeur is something, at least. Please. Promise me you’ll take him with you.”

  “All right. But I don’t think he’s going to like the arrangement much either. He and I didn’t get along very well even when he was playing Renoux, and I his niece.”

  Elend shrugged. “He’ll hold to his Contract. That’s what is important.”

  “He holds to the Contract,” Vin said, “but only grudgingly. I swear that he enjoys frustrating me.”

  Elend looked down at her. “Vin, kandra are excellent servants. They don’t do things like that.”

  “No, Elend,” Vin said. “Sazed was an excellent servant. He enjoyed being with people, helping them. I never felt that he resented me. OreSeur may do everything I command, but he doesn’t like me; he never has. I can tell.”

  Elend sighed, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t you think you might be a little irrational? There’s no real reason to hate him so.”

  “Oh?” Vin asked. “Just like there’s no reason you shouldn’t get along with Dockson?”

  Elend paused. Then he sighed. “I guess you have a point,” he said. He continued to rub Vin’s shoulder as he stared upward, toward the ceiling, contemplative.

  “What?” Vin asked.

  “I’m not doing a very good job of this, am I?”

  “Don’t be foolish,” Vin said. “You’re a wonderful king.”

  “I might be a passable king, Vin, but I’m not him.”

  “Who?”

  “Kelsier,” Elend said quietly.

  “Elend, nobody expects you to be Kelsier.”

  “Oh?” he said. “That’s why Dockson doesn’t like me. He hates noblemen; it’s obvious in the way that he talks, the way he acts. I don’t know if I really blame him, considering the life he’s known. Regardless, he doesn’t think I should be king. He thinks that a skaa should be in my place—or, even better, Kelsier. They all think that.”

  “That’s nonsense, Elend.”

  “Really? And if Kelsier still lived, would I be king?”

  Vin paused.

  “You see? They accept me—the people, the merchants, even the noblemen. But in the back of their minds, they wish they had Kelsier instead.”

  “I don’t wish that.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Vin frowned. Then she sat up, turning so that she was kneeling over Elend in the reclined chair, their faces just inches apart. “Don’t you ever wonder that, Elend. Kelsier was my teacher, but I didn’t love him. Not like I love you.”

  Elend stared into her eyes, then nodded. Vin kissed him deeply, then snuggled down beside him again.

  “Why not?” Elend eventually asked.

  “Well, he was old, for one thing.”

  Elend chuckled. “I seem to recall you making fun of my age as well.”

  “That’s different,” Vin said. “You’re only a few years older than me—Kelsier was ancient.”

  “Vin, thirty-eight is not ancient.”

  “Close enough.”

  Elend chuckled again, but she could tell that he wasn’t satisfied. Why had she chosen Elend, rather than Kelsier? Kelsier had been the visionary, the hero, the Mistborn.

  “Kelsier was a great man,” Vin said quietly as Elend began to stroke her hair. “But…there were things about him, Elend. Frightening things. He was intense, reckless, even a little bit cruel. Unforgiving. He’d slaughter people without guilt or concern, just because they upheld the Final Empire or worked for the Lord Ruler.

  “I could love him as a teacher and a friend. But I don’t think I could ever love—not really love—a man like that. I don’t blame him; he was of the streets, like me. When you struggle so hard for life, you grow strong—but you can grow harsh, too. His fault or not, Kelsier reminded me too much of men I…knew when I was younger. Kell was a far better person than they—he really could be kind, and he did sacrifice his life for the skaa. However, he was just so hard.”

  She closed her eyes, feeling Elend’s warmth. “You, Elend Venture, are a good man. A truly good man.”

  “Good men don’t become legends,” he said quietly.

  “Good men don’t need to become legends.” She opened her eyes, looking up at him. “They just do what’s right anyway.”

  Elend smiled. Then he kissed the top of her head and leaned back. They lay there for a time, in a room warm with sunlight, relaxing.

  “He saved my life, once,” Elend finally said.

  “Who?” Vin asked with surprise. “Kelsier?”

  Elend nodded. “That day after Spook and OreSeur were captured, the day Kelsier died. There was a battle in the square when Ham and some soldiers tried to free the captives.”

  “I was there,” Vin said. “Hiding with Breeze and Dox in one of the alleyways.”

  “Really?” Elend said, sounding a bit amused. “Because I came looking for you. I thought that they’d arrested you, along with OreSeur—he was pretending to be your uncle, then. I tried to get to the cages to rescue you.”

  “You did what? Elend, it was a battlefield in that square! There was an Inquisitor there, for the Lord Ruler’s sake!”

  “I know,” Elend said, smiling faintly. “See, that Inquisitor is the one who tried to kill me. It had its axe raised and everything. And then…Kelsier was there. He smashed into the Inquisitor, throwing it to the groun
d.”

  “Probably just a coincidence,” Vin said.

  “No,” Elend said softly. “He meant it, Vin. He looked at me while he struggled with the Inquisitor, and I saw it in his eyes. I’ve always wondered about that moment; everyone tells me that Kelsier hated the nobility even more than Dox does.”

  Vin paused. “He…started to change a little at the end, I think.”

  “Change enough that he’d risk himself to protect a random nobleman?”

  “He knew that I loved you,” Vin said, smiling faintly. “I guess, in the end, that proved stronger than his hatred.”

  “I didn’t realize…” He trailed off as Vin turned, hearing something. Footsteps approaching. She sat up, and a second later, Ham poked his head into the room. He paused when he saw Vin sitting in Elend’s lap, however.

  “Oh,” Ham said. “Sorry.”

  “No, wait,” Vin said. Ham poked his head back in, and Vin turned to Elend. “I almost forgot why I came looking for you in the first place. I got a new package from Terion today.”

  “Another one?” Elend asked. “Vin, when are you going to give this up?”

  “I can’t afford to,” she said.

  “It can’t be all that important, can it?” he asked. “I mean, if everybody’s forgotten what that last metal does, then it must not be very powerful.”

  “Either that,” Vin said, “or it was so amazingly powerful that the Ministry worked very hard to keep it a secret.” She slid off of the chair to stand up, then took the pouch and thin bar out of her pocket. She handed the bar to Elend, who sat up in his plush chair.

  Silvery and reflective, the metal—like the aluminum from which it was made—felt too light to be real. Any Allomancer who accidentally burned aluminum had their other metal reserves stripped away from them, leaving them powerless. Aluminum had been kept secret by the Steel Ministry; Vin had only found out about it on the night when she’d been captured by the Inquisitors, the same night she’d killed the Lord Ruler.

  They had never been able to figure out the proper Allomantic alloy of aluminum. Allomantic metals always came in pairs—iron and steel, tin and pewter, copper and bronze, zinc and brass. Aluminum and…something. Something powerful, hopefully. Her atium was gone. She needed an edge.

  Elend sighed, handing back the bar. “The last time you tried to burn one of those it left you sick for two days, Vin. I was terrified.”

  “It can’t kill me,” Vin said. “Kelsier promised that burning a bad alloy would only make me sick.”

  Elend shook his head. “Even Kelsier was wrong on occasion, Vin. Didn’t you say that he misunderstood how bronze worked?”

  Vin paused. Elend’s concern was so genuine that she felt herself being persuaded. However…

  When that army attacks, Elend is going to die. The city’s skaa might survive—no ruler would be foolish enough to slaughter the people of such a productive city. The king, however, would be killed. She couldn’t fight off an entire army, and she could do little to help with preparations.

  She did know Allomancy, however. The better she got at it, the better she’d be able to protect the man she loved.

  “I have to try it, Elend,” she said quietly. “Clubs says that Straff won’t attack for a few days—he’ll need that long to rest his men from the march and scout the city for attack. That means I can’t wait. If this metal does make me sick, I’ll be better in time to help fight—but only if I try it now.”

  Elend’s face grew grim, but he did not forbid her. He had learned better than that. Instead, he stood. “Ham, you think this is a good idea?”

  Ham nodded. He was a warrior; to him, her gamble would make sense. She’d asked him to stay because she’d need someone to carry her back to her bed, should this go wrong.

  “All right,” Elend said, turning back to Vin, looking resigned.

  Vin climbed into the chair, sat back, then took a pinch of the duralumin dust and swallowed it. She closed her eyes, and felt at her Allomantic reserves. The common eight were all there, well stocked. She didn’t have any atium or gold, nor did she have either of their alloys. Even if she’d had atium, it was too precious to use except in an emergency—and the other three had only marginal usefulness.

  A new reserve appeared. Just as one had the four times before. Each time she’d burned an aluminum alloy, she’d immediately felt a blinding headache. You’d think I’d have learned… she thought. Gritting her teeth, she reached inside and burned the new alloy.

  Nothing happened.

  “Have you tried it yet?” Elend asked apprehensively.

  Vin nodded slowly. “No headache. But…I’m not sure if the alloy is doing anything or not.”

  “But it’s burning?” Ham asked.

  Vin nodded. She felt the familiar warmth from within, the tiny fire that told her that a metal was burning. She tried moving about a bit, but couldn’t distinguish any change to her physical self. Finally she just looked up and shrugged.

  Ham frowned. “If it didn’t make you sick, then you’ve found the right alloy. Each metal only has one valid alloy.”

  “Or,” Vin said, “that’s what we’ve always been told.”

  Ham nodded. “What alloy was this?”

  “Aluminum and copper,” Vin said.

  “Interesting,” Ham said. “You don’t feel anything at all?”

  Vin shook her head.

  “You’ll have to practice some more.”

  “Looks like I’m lucky,” Vin said, extinguishing the duralumin. “Terion came up with forty different alloys he thought we could try, once we had enough aluminum. This was only the fifth.”

  “Forty?” Elend asked incredulously. “I wasn’t aware that there were so many metals you could make an alloy from!”

  “You don’t have to have two metals to make an alloy,” Vin said absently. “Just one metal and something else. Look at steel—it’s iron and carbon.”

  “Forty…” Elend repeated. “And you would have tried them all?”

  Vin shrugged. “Seemed like a good place to start.”

  Elend looked concerned at that thought, but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he turned to Ham. “Anyway, Ham, was there something you wanted to see us about?”

  “Nothing important,” Ham said. “I just wanted to see if Vin was up for some sparring. That army has me feeling antsy, and I figure Vin could still use some practice with the staff.”

  Vin shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  “You want to come, El?” Ham asked. “Get in some practice?”

  Elend laughed. “And face one of you two? I’ve got my royal dignity to think of!”

  Vin frowned slightly, looking up at him. “You really should practice more, Elend. You barely know how to hold a sword, and you’re terrible with a dueling cane.”

  “Now, see, why would I worry about that when I have you to protect me?”

  Vin’s concern deepened. “We can’t always be around you, Elend. I’d worry a lot less if you were better at defending yourself.”

  He just smiled and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll get to it eventually, I promise. But, not today—I’ve got too much to think about right now. How about if I just come watch you two? Perhaps I’ll pick up something by observation—which is, by the way, the preferable method of weapons training, since it doesn’t involve me getting beaten up by a girl.”

  Vin sighed, but didn’t press the point further.

  6

  I write this record now, pounding it into a metal slab, because I am afraid. Afraid for myself, yes—I admit to being human. If Alendi does return from the Well of Ascension, I am certain that my death will be one of his first objectives. He is not an evil man, but he is a ruthless one. That is, I think, a product of what he has been through.

  Elend leaned down against the railing, looking in at the sparring yard. Part of him did wish to go out and practice with Vin and Ham. However, the larger part of him just didn’t see the point.

  Any assassin likely to come a
fter me will be an Allomancer, he thought. I could train ten years and be no match for one of them.

  In the yard itself, Ham took a few swings with his staff, then nodded. Vin stepped up, holding her own staff, which was a good foot taller than she was. Watching the two of them, Elend couldn’t help remarking on the disparity. Ham had the firm muscles and powerful build of a warrior. Vin looked even thinner than usual, wearing only a tight buttoned shirt and a pair of trousers, with no cloak to mask her size.

  The inequality was enhanced by Ham’s next words. “We’re practicing with the staff, not practicing Pushing and Pulling. Don’t use anything but pewter, all right?”

  Vin nodded.

  It was the way they often sparred. Ham claimed that there was no substitute for training and practice, no matter how powerful an Allomancer one was. He let Vin use pewter, however, because he said the enhanced strength and dexterity was disorienting unless one was accustomed to it.

  The sparring field was like a courtyard. Situated in the palace barracks, it had an open-sided hallway built around it. Elend stood in this, roof overhead keeping the red sun out of his eyes. That was nice, for a light ashfall had begun, and occasional flakes of ash floated down from the sky. Elend crossed his arms on the railing. Soldiers passed occasionally in the hallway behind, bustling with activity. Some, however, paused to watch; Vin and Ham’s sparring sessions were something of a welcome diversion to the palace guards.

  I should be working on my proposal, Elend thought. Not standing here watching Vin fight.

  But…the tension of the last few days had been so pressing that he was finding it difficult to get up the motivation to do yet another read-through of the speech. What he really needed was to just spend a few moments thinking.

  So, he simply watched. Vin approached Ham warily, staff held in a firm, two-handed stance. Once, Elend probably would have found trousers and shirt on a lady to be inappropriate, but he’d been around Vin too long to still be bothered by that. Ball gowns and dresses were beautiful—but there was something right about Vin in simple garb. She wore it more comfortably.