Mistborn Trilogy - Brandon Sanderson [572]
“Then it is decided,” Sazed said, standing. “You two should try to rest well tonight, despite the recent change in your relationship. Can you walk, Lady Vin?”
“No need,” Elend said, leaning down and picking her up. She wrapped her arms around him, though her grip was not tight, and he could see that her eyes were already drooping again.
He smiled. Suddenly, the world seemed a much simpler place. He would take some time and spend it on what was really important; then, once he and Vin had sought help from the North, they could return. He actually looked forward to coming back and tackling their problems with renewed vigor.
He held Vin tight, nodding good night to Sazed, then walking out toward his rooms. It seemed that everything had worked out fine in the end.
Sazed stood slowly, watching the two leave. He wondered what they would think of him, when they heard of Luthadel’s fall. At least they would have each other for support.
His wedding blessing was the last gift he could give them—that, and their lives. How will history judge me for my lies? he wondered. What will it think of the Terrisman who took such a hand in politics, the Terrisman who would fabricate mythology to save the lives of his friends? The things he’d said about the Well were, of course, falsehoods. If there was such a power, he had no idea where it was, nor what it would do.
How history judged him would probably depend on what Elend and Vin did with their lives. Sazed could only hope that he had done the right thing. Watching them go, knowing that their youthful love would be spared, he couldn’t help but smile at his decision.
With a sigh, he stooped down and gathered up his medical items; then he retreated to his rooms to fabricate the map he had promised Vin and Elend.
THE END OF PART FOUR
Part Five
Snow and Ash
49
He is accustomed to giving up his own will before the greater good, as he sees it.
“You are a fool, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl snapped, arms folded, eyes wide with displeasure.
Elend pulled a strap tight on his saddle. Part of the wardrobe Tindwyl had made for him included a black and silver riding uniform, and he wore this now, fingers snug within the leather gloves, and a dark cloak to keep off the ash.
“Are you listening to me?” Tindwyl demanded. “You can’t leave. Not now! Not when your people are in such danger!”
“I’ll protect them in another way,” he said, checking on the packhorses.
They were in the keep’s covered way, used for arrivals and departures. Vin sat on her own horse, enveloped almost completely in her cloak, hands holding her reins tensely. She had very little experience riding, but Elend refused to let her run. Pewter or no pewter, the wounds from her fight at the Assembly still hadn’t healed completely, not to mention the damage she’d taken the night before.
“Another way?” Tindwyl asked. “You should be with them. You’re their king!”
“No, I’m not,” Elend snapped, turning toward the Terriswoman. “They rejected me, Tindwyl. Now I have to worry about more important events on a larger stage. They wanted a traditional king? Well, let them have my father. When I return from Terris, perhaps they will have realized what they lost.”
Tindwyl shook her head and stepped forward, speaking in a quiet voice. “Terris, Elend? You go north. For her. You know why she wants to go there, don’t you?”
He paused.
“Ah, so you do know,” Tindwyl said. “What do you think of it, Elend? Don’t tell me you believe these delusions. She thinks she’s the Hero of Ages. She supposes that she’ll find something in the mountains up there—some power, or perhaps some revelation, that will transform her into a divinity.”
Elend glanced at Vin. She looked down at the ground, hood down, still sitting quietly on her horse.
“She’s trying to follow her master, Elend,” Tindwyl whispered. “The Survivor became a god to these people, so she thinks she has to do the same.”
Elend turned to Tindwyl. “If that is what she truly believes, then I support her.”
“You support her madness?” Tindwyl demanded.
“Do not speak