The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  None of Sazed’s knowledge gave him comfort. He accepted the religions he knew—believed in their value—but that didn’t give him what he needed. They didn’t assure him that Tindwyl’s spirit still lived. Instead, they made him question. If so many people believed so many different things, how could any one of them—or, even, anything at all—actually be true?

  The skaa called Sazed holy, but at that moment he realized that he was the most profane of men. He was a creature who knew three hundred religions, yet had faith in none of them.

  So, when his tears fell—and nearly began to freeze to his face—they gave him as little comfort as his religions. He moaned, leaning over the frozen corpse.

  My life, he thought, has been a sham.

  55

  Rashek is to try and lead Alendi in the wrong direction, to discourage him, or otherwise foil his quest. Alendi doesn’t know that he has been deceived, that we’ve all been deceived, and he will not listen to me now.

  Straff woke in the cold morning and immediately reached for a leaf of Black Frayn. He was beginning to see the benefits of his addiction. It woke him quickly and easily, making his body feel warm despite the early hour. When he might have once taken an hour to get ready, he was up in minutes, dressed, prepared for the day.

  And glorious that day would be.

  Janarle met him outside his tent, and the two walked through the bustling camp. Straff’s boots cracked on half ice, half snow as he made his way to his horse.

  “The fires are out, my lord,” Janarle explained. “Probably due to the snows. The koloss probably finished their rampaging and took shelter from the cold. Our scouts are afraid to get too close, but they say the city is like a graveyard. Quiet and empty, save for the bodies.”

  “Maybe they actually killed each other off,” Straff said cheerfully, climbing into his saddle, breath puffing in the crisp morning air. Around him, the army was forming up. Fifty thousand soldiers, eager at the prospect of taking the city. Not only was there plundering to be done, but moving into Luthadel would mean roofs and walls for all of them.

  “Perhaps,” Janarle said, mounting.

  Wouldn’t that be convenient, Straff thought with a smile. All of my enemies dead, the city and its riches mine, and no skaa to worry about.

  “My lord!” someone cried.

  Straff looked up. The field between his camp and Luthadel was colored gray and white, the snow stained by ash. And gathering on the other side of that field were koloss.

  “Looks like they are alive after all, my lord,” Janarle said.

  “Indeed,” Straff said, frowning. There were still a lot of the creatures. They piled out of the western gate, not attacking immediately, instead gathering in a large body.

  “Scout counts say there are fewer of them than there were,” Janarle said after a short time. “Perhaps two-thirds their original number, maybe a bit fewer. But, they are koloss….”

  “But they’re abandoning their fortifications,” Straff said, smiling, Black Frayn warming his blood, making him feel like he was burning metals. “And they’re coming to us. Let them charge. This should be over quickly.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Janarle said, sounding a little less certain. He frowned, then, pointing toward the southern section of the city. “My…lord?”

  “What now?”

  “Soldiers, my lord,” Janarle said. “Human ones. Looks to be several thousand of them.”

  Straff frowned. “They should all be dead!”

  The koloss charged. Straff’s horse shuffled slightly as the blue monsters ran across the gray field, the human troops falling into more organized ranks behind.

  “Archers!” Janarle shouted. “Prepare first volley!”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t be at the front, Straff thought suddenly. He turned his horse, then noticed something. An arrow suddenly shot from the midst of the charging koloss.

  But, koloss didn’t use bows. Besides, the monsters were still far away, and that object was far too big to be an arrow anyway. A rock, perhaps? It seemed larger than…

  It began to fall down toward Straff’s army. Straff stared into the sky, riveted by the strange object. It grew more distinct as it fell. It wasn’t an arrow, nor was it a rock.

  It was a person—a person with a flapping mistcloak.

  “No!” Straff yelled. She’s supposed to be gone!

  Vin screamed down from her duralumin-fueled Steeljump, massive koloss sword light in her hands. She hit Straff directly in the head with the sword, then continued on downward, slamming into the ground, throwing up snow and frozen dirt with the power of her impact.

  The horse fell into two pieces, front and back. What remained of the former king slid to the ground with the equine corpse. She looked at the remnants, smiled grimly, and bid Straff farewell.

  Elend had, after all, warned him what would happen if he attacked the city.

  Straff’s generals and attendants stood around her in a stunned circle. Behind her, the koloss army barreled forward, confusion in Straff’s ranks making the archer volleys ragged and less effective.

  Vin kept a tight hold on her sword, then Pushed outward with a duralumin-enhanced Steelpush. Riders were thrown, their beasts tripped by their shoes, and soldiers sprayed backward from her in a circle of several dozen yards. Men screamed.

  She downed another vial, restoring both steel and pewter. Then she jumped up, seeking out generals and other officers to attack. As she moved, her koloss troops hit the front ranks of Straff’s army, and the real carnage began.

  “What are they doing?” Cett asked, hurriedly throwing on his cloak as he was placed and tied into his saddle.

  “Attacking, apparently,” said Bahmen, one of his aides. “Look! They’re working with the koloss.”

  Cett frowned, doing up his cloak clasp. “A treaty?”

  “With koloss?” Bahmen asked.

  Cett shrugged. “Who’s going to win?”

  “No way to tell, my lord,” the man said. “Koloss are—”

  “What is this!” Allrianne demanded, riding up the snowy incline, accompanied by a couple of abashed guards. Cett had, of course, ordered them to keep her in the camp—but he had also, of course, expected that she’d get past them eventually.

  At least I can count on her to be slowed down by getting ready in the morning, he thought with amusement. She wore one of her dresses, immaculately arranged, her hair done. If a building were burning down, Allrianne would still pause to do her makeup before escaping.

  “Looks like the battle has begun,” Cett said, nodding toward the fighting.

  “Outside the city?” Allrianne asked, riding up next to him. Then she brightened. “They’re attacking Straff’s position!”

  “Yes,” Cett said. “And that leaves the city—”

  “We have to help them, Father!”

  Cett rolled his eyes. “You know we’re going to do nothing of the sort. We’ll see who wins. If they’re weak enough—which I hope they will be—we’ll attack them. I didn’t bring all of my forces back with me, but maybe…”

  He trailed off as he noticed the look in Allrianne’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, she kicked her horse into motion.

  Her guards cursed, dashing forward—too late—to try and grab her reins. Cett sat, stunned. This was a little insane, even for her. She wouldn’t dare…

  She galloped down the hill toward the battle. Then she paused, as he had expected. She turned, looking back at him.

  “If you want to protect me, Father,” she yelled, “you’d better charge!”

  With that, she turned and started galloping again, her horse throwing up puffs of snow.

  Cett didn’t move.

  “My lord,” Bahmen said. “Those forces look almost evenly matched. Fifty thousand men against a force of some twelve thousand koloss and about five thousand men. If we were to add our strength to either side…”

  Damn fool girl! he thought, watching Allrianne gallop away.


  “My lord?” Bahmen asked.

  Why did I come to Luthadel in the first place? Was it because I really thought I could take the city? Without Allomancers, with my homeland in revolt? Or, was it because I was looking for something? A confirmation of the stories. A power like I saw on that night, when the Heir almost killed me.

  How exactly did they get the koloss to fight with them, anyway?

  “Gather our forces!” Cett commanded. “We’re marching to the defense of Luthadel. And somebody send riders after that fool daughter of mine!”

  Sazed rode quietly, his horse moving slowly in the snow. Ahead of him, the battle raged, but he was far enough behind it to be out of danger. He’d left the city behind, where Luthadel’s surviving women and elderly watched from the walls. Vin had saved them from the koloss. The real miracle would be to see if she could save them from the other two armies.

  Sazed didn’t ride into the fight. His metalminds were mostly empty, and his body was nearly as tired as his mind. He simply brought his horse to a halt, its breath puffing in the cold as he sat alone on the snowy plain.

  He didn’t know how to deal with Tindwyl’s death. He felt…hollow. He wished that he could just stop feeling. He wished that he could go back and defend her gate, instead of his own. Why hadn’t he gone in search of her when he’d heard of the northern gate’s fall? She’d still been alive then. He might have been able to protect her….

  Why did he even care anymore? Why bother?

  But, the ones who had faith were right, he thought. Vin came back to defend the city. I lost hope, but they never did.

  He started his horse forward again. The sounds of battle came in the distance. He tried to focus on anything but Tindwyl, but his thoughts kept returning to things he had studied with her. The facts and stories became more precious, for they were a link to her. A painful link, but one he couldn’t bear to discard.

  The Hero of Ages was not simply to be a warrior, he thought, still riding slowly toward the battlefield. He was a person who united others, who brought them together. A leader.

  He knew that Vin thought she was the Hero. But Tindwyl was right: it was too much of a coincidence. And, he wasn’t even certain what he believed anymore. If anything.

  The Hero of Ages was removed from the Terris people, he thought, watching the koloss attack. He was not royalty himself, but came to it eventually.

  Sazed pulled his horse up, pausing in the center of the open, empty field. Arrows stuck from the snow around him, and the ground was thoroughly trampled. In the distance, he heard a drum. He turned, watching as an army of men marched over a rise to the west. They flew Cett’s banner.

  He commanded the forces of the world. Kings rode to his aid.

  Cett’s forces joined the battle against Straff. There was a crash of metal against metal, bodies grunting, as a new front came under attack. Sazed sat on the field between the city and the armies. Vin’s forces were still outnumbered, but as Sazed watched, Straff’s army began to pull back. It broke into pieces, its members fighting without direction. Their movements bespoke terror.

  She’s killing their generals, he thought.

  Cett was a clever man. He himself rode to battle, but he stayed near the back of his ranks—his infirmities requiring him to remain tied into his saddle and making it difficult for him to fight. Still, by joining the battle, he ensured that Vin would not turn her koloss on him.

  For there was really no doubt in Sazed’s mind who would win this conflict. Indeed, before even an hour had passed, Straff’s troops began to surrender in large groups. The sounds of battle died down, and Sazed kicked his horse forward.

  Holy First Witness, he thought. I don’t know that I believe that. But, either way, I should be there for what happens next.

  The koloss stopped fighting, standing silently. They parted for Sazed as he rode up through their ranks. Eventually, he found Vin standing, bloodied, her massive koloss sword held on one shoulder. Some koloss pulled a man forward—a lord in rich clothing and a silvery breastplate. They dropped him before Vin.

  From behind, Penrod approached with an honor guard, led by a koloss. Nobody spoke. Eventually, the koloss parted again, and this time a suspicious Cett rode forward, surrounded by a large group of soldiers and led by a single koloss.

  Cett eyed Vin, then scratched his chin. “Not much of a battle,” he said.

  “Straff’s soldiers were afraid,” Vin said. “They’re cold, and they have no desire to fight koloss.”

  “And their leaders?” Cett asked.

  “I killed them,” Vin said. “Except this one. Your name?”

  “Lord Janarle,” said Straff’s man. His leg appeared broken, and koloss held him by either arm, supporting him.

  “Straff is dead,” Vin said. “You control this army now.”

  The nobleman bowed his head. “No, I don’t. You do.”

  Vin nodded. “On your knees,” she said.

  The koloss dropped Janarle. He grunted in pain, but then bowed forward. “I swear my army to you,” he whispered.

  “No,” Vin said sharply. “Not to me—to the rightful heir of House Venture. He is your lord now.”

  Janarle paused. “Very well,” he said. “Whatever you wish. I swear loyalty to Straff’s son, Elend Venture.”

  The separate groups stood in the cold. Sazed turned as Vin did, looking at Penrod. Vin pointed at the ground. Penrod quietly dismounted, then bowed himself to the ground.

  “I swear as well,” he said. “I give my loyalty to Elend Venture.”

  Vin turned to Lord Cett.

  “You expect this of me?” the bearded man said, amused.

  “Yes,” Vin said quietly.

  “And if I refuse?” Cett asked.

  “Then I’ll kill you,” Vin said quietly. “You brought armies to attack my city. You threatened my people. I won’t slaughter your soldiers, make them pay for what you did, but I will kill you, Cett.”

  Silence. Sazed turned, looking back at the lines of immobile koloss, standing in the bloodied snow.

  “That is a threat, you know,” Cett said. “Your own Elend would never stand for such a thing.”

  “He’s not here,” Vin said.

  “And what do you think he’d say?” Cett asked. “He’d tell me not to give in to such a demand—the honorable Elend Venture would never give in simply because someone threatened his life.”

  “You’re not the man that Elend is,” Vin said. “And you know it.”

  Cett paused, then smiled. “No. No, I’m not.” He turned to his aides. “Help me down.”

  Vin watched quietly as the guards undid Cett’s legs, then lifted him down to the snowy ground. He bowed. “Very well, then. I swear myself to Elend Venture. He’s welcome to my kingdom…assuming he can take it back from that damn obligator who now controls it.”

  Vin nodded, turning to Sazed. “I need your help, Sazed.”

  “Whatever you command, Mistress,” Sazed said quietly.

  Vin paused. “Please don’t call me that.”

  “As you wish,” Sazed said.

  “You’re the only one here I trust, Sazed,” Vin said, ignoring the three kneeling men. “With Ham wounded and Breeze…”

  “I will do my best,” Sazed said, bowing his head. “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Secure Luthadel,” Vin said. “Make certain the people are sheltered, and send for supplies from Straff’s storehouses. Get these armies situated so that they won’t kill each other, then send a squad to fetch Elend. He’ll be coming south on the canal highway.”

  Sazed nodded, and Vin turned to the three kneeling kings. “Sazed is my second. You will obey him as you would Elend or myself.”

  They each nodded in turn.

  “But, where will you be?” Penrod asked, looking up.

  Vin sighed, suddenly looking terribly weak. “Sleeping,” she said, and dropped her sword. Then she Pushed against it, shooting backward into the sky, toward Luthadel.

  He left ruin i
n his wake, but it was forgotten, Sazed thought, turning to watch her fly. He created kingdoms, and then destroyed them as he made the world anew.

  We had the wrong gender all along.

  THE END OF PART FIVE

  Part Six

  Words in Steel

  56

  If Rashek fails to lead Alendi astray, then I have instructed the lad to kill Alendi.

  How can Vin stand this? Elend wondered. He could barely see twenty feet in the mists. Trees appeared as apparitions around him as he walked, their branches curling around the road. The mist almost seemed to live: it moved, swirled, and blew in the cold night air. It snatched up his puffs of breath, as if drawing a piece of him into it.

  He shivered and kept walking. The snow had melted patchily over the last few days, leaving heaps in shadowed areas. The canal road, thankfully, was mostly clear.

  He walked with a pack over his shoulder, carrying only the necessities. At Spook’s suggestion, they’d traded their horses at a village several days back. They’d rode the creatures hard the last few days, and it was Spook’s estimation that trying to keep them fed—and alive—for the last leg of their trip to Luthadel wouldn’t be worth the effort.

  Besides, whatever was going to happen at the city had likely already occurred. So Elend walked, alone, in the darkness. Despite the eeriness, he kept his word and traveled only at night. Not only was it Vin’s will, but Spook claimed that night was safer. Few travelers braved the mists. Therefore, most bandits didn’t bother watching roadways at night.