The Mistborn Trilogy

by Brandon Sanderson

  Telden snorted. “You set yourself up as emperor.”

  “Because that’s what the people need, Telden,” Elend said. “They don’t want to return to the days of the Lord Ruler—but they would rather do that than live in chaos. Yomen’s success here proves that much. The people want to know that someone is watching over them. They had a god-emperor for a thousand years—now is not the time to leave them without a leader.”

  “You mean to tell me that you’re just a figurehead?” Telden asked, folding his arms.

  “Hardly,” Elend said. “But, eventually, I hope to be. We both know I’m a scholar and not a king.”

  Telden frowned. He didn’t believe Elend. And yet, Elend found that fact didn’t bother him. Something about saying those words, about confronting the skepticism, made him recognize the validity of his own confidence. Telden didn’t understand—he hadn’t lived through what Elend had. The young Elend himself wouldn’t have agreed with what he was now doing. A part of that youth still had a voice inside of Elend’s soul—and he would never quiet it. However, it was time to stop letting it undermine him.

  Elend put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Tell. It took me years to convince you that the Lord Ruler was a terrible emperor. I fully expect it to take the same amount of time to convince you that I’ll be a good one.”

  Telden smiled wanly.

  “Going to tell me that I’ve changed?” Elend asked. “Seems all the rage lately.”

  Telden laughed. “I thought that was obvious. No need to point it out.”

  “What, then?” Elend asked.

  “Well . . .” Telden said. “I was actually going to chide you for not inviting me to your wedding! I’m hurt, El. Truly. I spent the better part of my youth giving you relationship advice, then when you finally pick a girl, you don’t even let me know about the marriage!”

  Elend laughed, turning to follow Telden’s gaze toward Vin. Confident and powerful, yet somehow delicate and graceful. Elend smiled with pride. Even during the glory days of the Luthadel ball scene, he couldn’t remember a woman commanding as much attention as Vin now did. And, unlike Elend, she’d stepped into this ball without knowing a single person.

  “I feel a little like a proud parent,” Telden said, laying a hand on Elend’s shoulder. “There were days I was convinced that you were hopeless, El! I figured you’d someday wander into a library and just disappear completely. We’d find you twenty years later covered with dust, picking through some philosophy text for the seven hundredth time. Yet, here you are, married—and to a woman like that!”

  “Sometimes, I don’t understand either,” Elend said. “I can’t ever come up with any logical reason why she would want to be with me. I just . . . have to trust her judgment.”

  “Either way, you did well.”

  Elend raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember that you once tried to talk me out of spending time with her.”

  Telden flushed. “You have to admit, she was acting very suspiciously when she came to those parties.”

  “Yes,” Elend said. “She seemed too much like a real person to be a noblewoman.” He looked over at Telden, smiling. “However, if you’ll excuse me, I have something I need to do.”

  “Of course, El,” Telden said, bowing slightly as Elend withdrew. The move felt a little odd coming from Telden. They didn’t really know each other anymore. However, they did have memories of friendship.

  I didn’t tell him that I killed Jastes, Elend thought as he made his way through the room, its members parting easily for him. I wonder if he knows.

  Elend’s enhanced hearing picked out a general rise in excitement among the whispered conversations as people realized what he was doing. He’d given Yomen time enough to deal with his surprise; it was time to confront the man. Though part of Elend’s purpose in visiting the ball was to intimidate the local nobility, the main reason was still to speak with their king.

  Yomen watched Elend approach the high table—and, to his credit, the obligator did not look frightened at the prospect of a meeting. His meal still remained uneaten, however. Elend didn’t wait for permission to come to the table, but he did pause and wait as Yomen waved for servants to clear space and set Elend a place directly across the high table from him.

  Elend sat, trusting in Vin—mixed with his own burning steel and tin—to warn him of attacks from behind. He was the only one on this side of the table, and Yomen’s dining companions all retired as Elend seated himself, leaving the two rulers alone. In another situation, the image might have looked ridiculous: two men seated across from each other with empty table wings extending a great distance to either side. The white tablecloth and crystalline dinnerware were pristine, just as it would have been during the Lord Ruler’s day.

  Elend had sold all such finery he owned, struggling to feed his people during the last few winters.

  Yomen laced his fingers on the table in front of him—his meal taken away by silent servants—and studied Elend, his cautious eyes framed by intricate tattoos. Yomen wore no crown, but he did wear a single bead of metal tied so that it hung in the center of his forehead.

  Atium.

  “There is a saying in the Steel Ministry,” Yomen finally said. “ ‘Sit down to dine with evil, and you will ingest it with your meal.’ ”

  “It’s a good thing we’re not eating, then,” Elend said, smiling slightly.

  Yomen did not smile back.

  “Yomen,” Elend said, growing more serious. “I come to you now, not as an emperor seeking for new lands to control, but as a desperate king seeking allies. The world has become a dangerous place—the land itself seems to be fighting us, or at least falling apart beneath us. Accept my hand of friendship, and let us be done with wars.”

  Yomen didn’t reply. He just sat, fingers laced, studying Elend.

  “You doubt my sincerity,” Elend said. “I can’t say that I blame you, since I marched my army up to your doorstep. Is there a way that I can persuade you? Would you be willing to enter into talks or parley?”

  Again, no answer. So, this time, Elend just waited. The room around them felt still.

  Yomen finally spoke. “You are a flagrant and garish man, Elend Venture.”

  Elend bristled at that. Perhaps it was the ball setting, perhaps it was the way Yomen so flippantly ignored his offer. However, Elend found himself responding to the comment in a way he might have years before, when he hadn’t been a king at war. “It’s a bad habit I’ve always had,” Elend said. “I’m afraid that the years of rule—and of being trained in propriety—haven’t changed one fact: I’m a terribly rude man. Bad breeding would be my guess.”

  “You find this a game,” the obligator said, eyes hard. “You come to my city to slaughter my people, then you dance into my ball hoping to frighten the nobility to the point of hysteria.”

  “No,” Elend said. “No, Yomen, this is no game. The world seems near to ending, and I’m just doing my best to help as many people survive as possible.”

  “And doing your best includes conquering my city?”

  Elend shook his head. “I’m not good at lying, Yomen. So, I’ll be truthful with you. I don’t want to kill anyone—as I said, I’d rather we simply made a truce and were done with it. Give me the information I seek, pool your resources with mine, and I will not force you to give up your city. Deny me, and things will grow more difficult.”

  Yomen sat quietly for a moment, music still being played softly in the background, vibrating over the hum of a hundred polite conversations.

  “Do you know why I dislike men like you, Venture?” Yomen finally asked.

  “My insufferable charm and wit?” Elend asked. “I doubt it’s my good looks—but, compared to that of an obligator, I suppose even my face could be enviable.”

  Yomen’s expression darkened. “How did a man like you ever end up at a table of negotiation?”

  “I was trained by a surly Mistborn, a sarcastic Terrisman, and a group of disrespect
ful thieves,” Elend said, sighing. “Plus, on top of that, I was a fairly insufferable person to begin with. But, kindly continue with your insult—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “I don’t like you,” Yomen continued, “because you have the gall to believe that you deserve to take this city.”

  “I do,” Elend said. “It belonged to Cett; half the soldiers I brought with me on this march once served him, and this is their homeland. We’ve come to liberate, not conquer.”

  “Do these people look to you like they need liberation?” Yomen said, nodding to the dancing couples.

  “Yes, actually,” Elend said. “Yomen, you’re the upstart here—not me. You have no right to this city, and you know it.”

  “I have the right given me by the Lord Ruler.”

  “We don’t accept the Lord Ruler’s right to rule,” Elend said. “That’s why we killed him. Instead, we look to the people’s right to rule.”

  “Is that so?” Yomen said, hands still laced before him. “Because, as I recall, the people of your city chose Ferson Penrod to be their king.”

  Good point, that one, Elend had to admit.

  Yomen leaned forward. “This is the reason I don’t like you, Venture. You’re a hypocrite of the worst kind. You pretended to let the people be in charge—but when they ousted you and picked another, you had your Mistborn conquer the city back for you. You rule by force, not by common consent, so don’t talk to me about rights.”

  “There were . . . circumstances in Luthadel, Yomen. Penrod was working with our enemies, and he bought himself the throne through manipulating the assembly.”

  “That sounds like a flaw in the system,” Yomen said. “A system that you set up—a system replacing the one of order that existed before it. A people depend on stability in their government; they need someone to look to. A leader that they can trust, a leader with true authority. Only a man chosen by the Lord Ruler has that claim on authority.”

  Elend studied the obligator. The frustrating thing was, he almost agreed with the man. Yomen said things that Elend himself had said, even if they were twisted a bit by his perspective as an obligator.

  “Only a man chosen by the Lord Ruler has that claim on authority . . .” Elend said, frowning. The phrase sounded familiar. “That’s from Durton, isn’t it? Calling of Trust?”

  Yomen paused. “Yes.”

  “I prefer Gallingskaw, when it comes to divine right.”

  Yomen made a curt gesture. “Gallingskaw was a heretic.”

  “That makes his theories invalid?” Elend asked.

  “No,” Yomen said. “It shows that he lacked the ability to reason soundly—otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten himself executed. That affects the validity of his theories. Besides, there is no divine mandate in the common man, as he proposed.”

  “The Lord Ruler was a common man before he took his throne,” Elend said.

  “Yes,” Yomen said, “but the Lord Ruler touched divinity at the Well of Ascension. That imprinted the Sliver of Infinity upon him, and gave him the Right of Inference.”

  “Vin, my wife, touched that same divinity.”

  “I don’t accept that story,” Yomen said. “As it has been said, the Sliver of Infinity was unique, unplanned, uncreated.”

  “Don’t bring Urdree into this,” Elend said, raising a finger. “We both know he was more a poet than a real philosopher—he ignored convention, and never gave proper attributions. At least give me the benefit of the doubt and quote Hardren. He’d give you a much better foundation.”

  Yomen opened his mouth, then stopped, frowning. “This is pointless,” he said. “Arguing philosophy will not remove the fact that you have an army camped outside my city, nor change the fact that I find you a hypocrite, Elend Venture.”

  Elend sighed. For a moment, he’d thought that they might be able to respect one another as scholars. There was one problem, however. Elend saw true loathing in Yomen’s eyes. And, Elend suspected that there was a deeper reason for it than Elend’s alleged hypocrisy. After all, Elend had married the woman who had killed Yomen’s god.

  “Yomen,” Elend said, leaning in. “I realize we have differences. However, one thing seems clear—we both care about the people of this empire. We both took the time to study political theory, and we both apparently focused on the texts that held the good of the people up as the prime reason for rule. We should be able to make this work.

  “I want to offer you a deal. Accept kingship under me—you’d be able to stay in control, with very few changes in your government. I will need access to the city and its resources, and we will need to discuss setting up a parliamentary council. Other than that, you may continue as you wish—you can even keep throwing your parties and teaching about the Lord Ruler. I will trust your judgment.”

  Yomen did not scoff at the offer, but Elend could tell that he also didn’t give it much weight. He had likely already known what Elend would say.

  “You mistake one thing, Elend Venture,” Yomen said.

  “And that is?”

  “That I can be intimidated, bribed, or influenced.”

  “You’re no fool, Yomen,” Elend said. “Sometimes, fighting isn’t worth its cost. We both know that you can’t beat me.”

  “That is debatable,” Yomen said. “Regardless, I do not respond well to threats. Perhaps if you didn’t have an army camped on my doorstep, I could see my way to an alliance.”

  “We both know that without an army on your doorstep, you wouldn’t even have listened to me,” Elend said. “You refused every messenger I sent, even before I marched here.”

  Yomen just shook his head. “You seem more reasonable than I would have thought, Elend Venture, but that doesn’t change facts. You already have a large empire of your own. In coming here, you betray your arrogance. Why did you need my dominance? Wasn’t what you already had enough?”

  “Firstly,” Elend said, raising a finger, “I feel that I need to remind you again that you stole this kingdom from an ally of mine. I had to come here eventually, if only to make good on promises I gave Cett. However, there’s something much larger at play here.” Elend hesitated, then made a gamble. “I need to know what is in your storage cavern.”

  Elend was rewarded with a slight look of surprise on Yomen’s face, and that was all the confirmation Elend needed. Yomen did know about the cavern. Vin was right. And considering that atium displayed so prominently on his forehead, perhaps she was right about what was contained in the cavern.

  “Look, Yomen,” Elend said, speaking quickly. “I don’t care about the atium—it’s barely of any value anymore. I need to know what instructions the Lord Ruler left in that cavern. What information is there for us? What supplies did he find necessary for our survival?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Yomen said flatly. He wasn’t a particularly good liar.

  “You asked me why I came here,” Elend said. “Yomen, it’s not about conquering or taking this land from you. I realize you may find that hard to believe, but it’s the truth. The Final Empire is dying. Surely you’ve seen that. Mankind needs to band together, pool its resources—and you have vital clues we need. Don’t force me to break down your gates to get them. Work with me.”

  Yomen shook his head. “There is your mistake again, Venture. You see, I don’t care if you attack me.” He met Elend’s eyes. “It would be better for my people to fight and to die than to be ruled by the man who overthrew our god and destroyed our religion.”

  Elend held those eyes, and saw determination in them.

  “That’s how it has to be?” Elend said.

  “It is,” Yomen said. “I can expect an attack in the morning, then?”

  “Of course not,” Elend said, standing. “Your soldiers aren’t starved yet. I’ll get back to you in a few months.” Maybe then you’ll be more willing to deal.

  Elend turned to go, then hesitated. “Nice party, by the way,” he said, glancing back at Yomen. “Regardless of what I believe,
I do think that your god would be pleased with what you’ve done here. I think you should reconsider your prejudices. The Lord Ruler probably isn’t fond of Vin and me, but I’d say that he’d rather that your people live than get themselves killed.”

  Elend nodded in respect, then left the high table, feeling more frustrated than he showed. It felt like Yomen and he had been so close, and yet at the same time, an alliance seemed impossible. Not while the obligator had such hatred of Elend and Vin.

  He forced himself to relax, walking. There was little he could do about the situation at the moment—it would take the siege to make Yomen rethink his position. I’m at a ball, Elend thought, wandering. I should enjoy what I can of it, letting myself be seen by the nobility here, intimidating them and making them think about helping us instead of Yomen. . . .

  A thought occurred to him. He glanced at Vin, then waved a servant over to him.

  “My lord?” the man asked.

  “I need you to fetch something for me,” Elend said.

  Vin was the center of attention. Women pandered to her, hung on her words, and looked to her as a model. They wanted to know news from Luthadel, to hear about fashion, politics, and events from the great city. They didn’t reject her, or even seem to resent her.

  The instant acceptance was the strangest thing Vin had ever experienced. She stood amid the women in their gowns and finery, and was foremost among them. She knew that it was just because of her power—yet, the women of this city seemed almost desperate to have someone to look to. An empress.

  And Vin found herself enjoying it. There was a part of her that had craved this acceptance since the first day she’d attended a ball. She’d spent that year being mistreated by most of the women of court—some had let her join with their company, but she’d always been an insignificant country noblewoman with no connections or significance. It was a shallow thing, this acceptance, but sometimes even shallow things feel important. Plus, there was something else about it. As she smiled toward a newcomer—a young niece that one of the women wanted to meet Vin—Vin realized what it was.